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actuallysaiyan · 1 month

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Send Me An Angel(Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader x Higuruma Hiromi)

warnings: smut, exhibitionist, oral sex(both fem and male receiving), drinking, smoking, drugs, candaulism, panty/pussy sniffing, creampie finish/unprotected sex, swearing, nipple play, pervertedness, pet names, just lots of lewd themes, threesomes word count: 4.6k!!! pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader x Higuruma Hiromi summary: you meet Hiromi at the bar, and you two bond over your love of 80s music. Despite Kento being a protective husband, he always wants to see you happy...even if it means to fuck you in front of the loser lawyer a/n: HERE IT IS!!! Omg I have been dreaming and planning and thinking about this fic FOREVER!!!!! I want to give a very special shoutout to both @beneathstarryskies and @seireiteihellbutterflyfor helping me out with this beauty! taglist: @sparklynightm4re, @buttercupbitches(sorry tried to tag you but Tumblr won't let me!)

You sit at the bar, drink in hand. Your head starts bobbing to the music, and you instantly recognize the song. A presence sits near you, someone of average build and average height. You look over at them, your smile spreading on your face. He smiles shyly at you and then orders a drink from the bartender. After he receives his drink and pays, he then scoots a little closer to you.

"I love this song," he comments, looking at you curiously. You smile, "Me too! Nobody likes the classics anymore!"

There's a sudden chemistry between you and the man with the long nose. His tired eyes remind you of someone very dear to you. Between sips of your cocktails, you and the man you've come to know as Hiromi become acquainted. You two are deep in your conversation about post-punk music and synthpop when you feel a familiar presence near you.

His strong arms wrap around you, his head resting on your shoulder before he leans in to kiss your cheek brazenly in front of Hiromi. The lawyer's eyes widen as he gets a good look at the salaryman who's making his presence quite known.

"And who's this, darling?" His voice is deep and gravelly, almost filled with a need. You giggle, "This is my new friend. Hiromi Higuruma. He's a lawyer."

Kento's eyes narrow at the man sitting very close to you. He's not sure he likes the way Hiromi is looking at you, and he's certainly sure he doesn't like the way you and he keep giggling and talking like you've been friends for years.

"Higuruma-san, was it?" Kento asks, extending his hand out to Hiromi. "Nanami Kento." Hiromi shakes his hand, "A pleasure to meet you. This must be your pretty girlfriend." "Wife." Kento corrects watchfully. "Wife, hm? Lucky guy, you are."

Hiromi is beginning to sense he's no longer wanted, but you extend your hand to grab onto his wrist. Kento watches you carefully, but he thinks he understands what's going on now. When Hiromi faces you, you're pouting.

"Wait, you're not going to leave, right? I thought we were having a nice conversation, Hiromi." He smiles, looking down at his drink, "Well, I guess I can stay. That alright with you, Nanami-san?" Kento's eyes dart towards the tired lawyer, "As long as you keep your hands to yourself."

This causes you to playfully slap Kento's chest. You chastise him for chasing away so many people this way, but Kento can't help it if he wants to keep you locked away from the world. If it were up to him, he'd keep you at home at all times of the day and the night. It's always you who insists on going out and socializing with others.

You and Hiromi begin discussing the song that's playing, which puts Kento's mind at ease. Despite the spectacle he had seen earlier of you and Hiromi chatting and flirting like a pair of high school reunion lovebirds, Kento knows that you're just being kind. Sure, you flirt from time to time, but Kento knows that when he goes home, you're the one coming with him and only him. He's the one who's going to have your face down in the pillows, begging for a break from the violent pounding he'll give you.

"So you like 80s music then, Higuruma-san?" Kento asks, taking his pack of cigarettes from his suit pocket. He places one between your lips and then one between his before he procures a lighter to light them both.

Hiromi watches enviously as Kento pulls you closer, the tips of your cigarettes almost touching. The scene was sensual in its own right; images of fiery kisses are evoked from the sight of Kento lighting both of your cigarettes at once.

Hiromi clears his throat, grabbing his drink to wet his mouth. Then he turns to see you awaiting his reply so eagerly.

"Yes, I love 80s music." He finally concludes. Kento smirks at him, "Funny, so does my wife. No wonder she took a liking to you."

Hiromi smiles nervously. He knows the kind of game Kento is playing at, but it's you he can't really read. Despite your drop-dead gorgeous husband right by your side, you continue to flirt and be eager to talk to Hiromi. If you were trying to get him killed, then he wouldn't be surprised at all.

You and Kento smoke your cigarettes, enjoying a conversation that's just between the two of you. Hiromi can't help but listen in; something about what you'll be having for dinner tomorrow night, and something about having to pick up Kento's dry cleaning tomorrow morning.

Hiromi blanks out for a few moments. His mind is filled with a sweet wife of his own. The kind of girl that he would be proud to bring home to his parents. In his mind, he sees such a sweet face and such a loving smile. The voice that comes from those lips is like warm, dripping honey. Hiromi is enjoying his little fantasy so much, it takes something else to pull him out of the thought.

"Hiromi," you coo softly. "You okay?"

Hiromi smiles sheepishly, looking down at his hand holding his drink. He downs the rest of it within seconds, hoping it'll soothe his nerves. Kento continues to watch him from his position behind you. He looks like he'd snap Hiromi's neck with ease if given the chance.

"Y-yeah, I'm alright. Just thinking."

You giggle softly. Kento grumbles in your ear, a soft warning to you. But he knows what your plan is, and he's not very fond of where this is going. Despite this, he'll more than likely entertain your idea.

"Are you imagining my wife in your little fantasies?" Kento asks, his eyes dark. Hiromi blushes, "Come on…don't say that. She's a fine lady, but she's yours." Kento smirks, "Oh? Is she not good enough for you?"

You slap Kento's chest playfully again, telling him to quit it. This is when Kento cups your cheek, planting a passionate kiss on those pretty, plump lips of yours. Hiromi would be lying if he said that just watching you two kiss didn't turn him on.

"That's enough! Don't embarrass me in front of my new friend," you whine and pout.

Kento chuckles darkly, moving some hair from your neck to place a kiss there too. Hiromi swallows hard, wishing he had another drink to keep him occupied. He's not even really sure where to look, but he knows he wants to keep looking at you. You, this ethereal being, that's just popped into his life. Something bright and beautiful to take the edge off the tiring monotony of his life.

"I think it's time we head home," Kento whispers in your ear. You nod, "Yes, I suppose it's time."

Kento heads over to the bartender to pay off your tab. You know he'll probably pay off Hiromi's tab as a way to show that he's the breadwinner in your relationship. While he's busy doing that, you find a pen and a pad of paper in your purse. You jot down your number, handing it to Hiromi. He looks at you like you've just signed his death wish. Your fingers brush against each other as you pass him the little piece of paper.

"Text me sometime, yeah? We can continue our conversation."

And with that, you're leaving with Kento. Hiromi gets one last glance at you as Kento slips his jacket onto your shoulders. And within a blink of his eyes, you two have disappeared out the door.

The night air feels so good on your skin. It's almost sobering you up. You lean against Kento, and he keeps a tight hold on your waist. You two walk in sync, your home only a few blocks away from your favorite bar. Kento lights up another cigarette; this one's for you to share.

"So, what do you think?" You ask him, looking up at him. Kento scoffs, "What? Him? You can't be serious, darling."

This causes you to pout and you know pouting is Kento's kryptonite. He's groaning as he watches you smoke the cigarette solemnly. You're just too precious to say no to.

"He's perfect! Just the type of guy I was looking for." You confess. "Him? He's just some pussywhipped loser. You can do better than that. He wouldn't even have the guts to ask you to fuck him." You giggle before passing the cigarette back to your husband. "That's the thing…" Kento cocks an eyebrow, "What is it this time?" "I don't want him to fuck me. I want him to watch us fuck."

Kento isn't that surprised, but his cock twitches to life. It's the thought of putting that damn loser in his place while he fucks you properly. That Higuruma-san probably hasn't fucked many women in his life. He's probably the type to pop within seconds of being in a hot, tight pussy.

"If you're sure about this," Kento starts. "I think it could be a little cruel to have such passionate sex in front of a man who looks like he hasn't gotten laid in years."

Your eyes widen. Did Hiromi really seem that pathetic in Kento's eyes? Something about this was turning you on in a way you couldn't quite describe. It was like you were the perfect trophy wife to be shown off. The kind of woman that most men have intense sexual fantasies about.

"Well, I gave him my number. Maybe he'll text me,"

But neither of you is truly convinced that Hiromi will come through with texting you. He's probably going to head home himself and fall asleep in his clothes like he does most nights. You begin to hope and pray that Hiromi would have the balls to actually contact you.

It's only when you and Kento are in front of the warm fireplace, snuggled on the white fur rug that your phone vibrates. You and Kento share excited glances. The more he thought about it, the more he found himself excited about the prospect of fucking his gorgeous wife in front of such a loser.

"It's him!" You giggle like an excited schoolgirl. "Answer him. Get him here now."

Hiromi's text is a pretty drunken one. He babbles about needing a place to crash, so you quickly give him the coordinates to Kento's penthouse suite. Then you and your husband wait with excitement flowing through your veins.

It's only about fifteen minutes later that you hear the buzzer. Kento goes to answer and grants entrance to your private home to the lawyer. Your heart is pounding your chest as the reality of the situation is finally dawning on you. This was actually going to happen. Your panties were a little wet already from your arousal.

There's a gentle knock on the door and you fling it open. Hiromi looks a bit disheveled and he smells like booze. You grab his wrist gently and you pull him into the penthouse. He looks around, his eyes widening at the luxury of your home.

"You found our place okay? You're doing alright?" you ask, wrapping your arm around his shoulder to lead him into the living room. Hiromi moans, "Yeah, I'm alright. Could use some water."

You help guide him to the couch, and you sit yourself right next to him. Your knees are touching. Kento comes in from the kitchen, a bottle of mineral water handed to the long-nosed man.

"Ahh, thank you." Hiromi slurs, opening the bottle and taking very greedy gulps of it. "Slow down, sweetie."

Your term of endearment nearly makes him spit out the water. He focuses on swallowing, then he turns to you. He's carefully assessing the situation. Shivers run down his spine when you begin to rub his thigh.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Hiromi questions, his cock twitching in his pants. "Nothing, just having a little fun. You like to have fun right?" You ask, a mischievous look in your eyes.

Kento then sits on the other side of Hiromi. Suddenly the lawyer feels very boxed in. If he wasn't completely sauced off his ass, he'd probably make a beeline for the door. But your soft touches and sweet perfume seem to soothe him more than he'd like to admit.

"I saw how you were looking at my wife," Kento begins. Hiromi throws his hands up in the air in defense, "Hey, come on. She's smoking hot. Can you blame me?" You caress his cheek, "Shhh…it's okay, Hiromi honey."

He shudders at your sweet touches. His cock grows harder the more you're teasing him. Kento keeps a watchful eye on both of you, but he's letting you have your fun.

"Let's lay down some ground rules," Kento finally pipes up. Hiromi looks over at your husband, "R-rules?" You nod, "Yeah if you want to have a little fun with us, Hiromi honey, you need to accept our rules."

And without warning, you reach over to squeeze his hard cock through his pants. His eyes shut and he lets out a pathetic moan. He has to focus on not cumming in his pants.

"Rule number one, we're calling the shots here. You have to listen to what we say and do what we tell you to do," Kento's voice sounds a million miles away as you continue to palm at Hiromi's cock. Hiromi nods his head, "G-got it." "Rule number two, we've got a safeword! It's bread, and if at any point any of us want to opt out, we can say this word. This includes you, Hiromi honey."

Hiromi moans, nodding his head once more. Kento taps his cheek, and the lawyer's eyes snap open. Kento asks for confirmation that he heard you, and Hiromi confirms.

"Rule number three consists of one thing. We can touch you as much as we want, but you are to always ask permission to touch either of us." Hiromi whines, "Fine, fine. That's fine with me."

You begin to unzip his pants and unbuckle his belt to give him a little more relief. His hips buck up involuntarily to the stimulation you're providing. Hiromi's head leans back against the cool leather of the sofa. You gently graze your nails against his cheek before you pull him in for a kiss.

"Rule number four," you whisper on his lips. "Is that we all have fun."

Kento watches as you kiss the pathetic man who sits right next to him. He knows that he'll be fucking your brains out sooner rather than later, but he's growing impatient watching you play with your latest prey. It takes no time before you pull down the straps of your dress and you're straddling Hiromi's lap.

Kento helps you pull down your dress, exposing your breasts to both men. The black-haired man groans as your nipples are so close to his face, and he's wanting to suck on them so bad.

"Don't forget rule three," Kento warns him. "C-can I touch you? C-can I suck on your nipples?"

You nod your head, leaning in closer to let Hiromi have a taste of your soft skin. A sweet moan erupts from your parted lips as his lips wrap around one of your pert nipples. Kento surveils you both, his eyes dark with lust. It's been quite some time since you've picked out a third party for your nightly games.

"Doesn't she taste so sweet?" Kento asks, leaning in to begin kissing your neck. "Fuck yeah," Hiromi moans as he continues suckling on your tits. "Like…strawberries." Kento chuckles, "Just wait til you taste her pussy…well, that is if she lets you."

Hiromi is in a daze. This is all too much. He thinks to himself that even if he can't fuck either of you or even get to touch you more than this, he'll consider this night a success. He's enjoying himself as he sucks and nips at your nipples. Your fingers are carding through his hair.

"How does it feel, darling?" Kento inquires, pressing a kiss to your temple. "So good, baby. He's got such a soft tongue."

After a few minutes, you get off Hiromi's lap. Then you extend your hand out to him, which he gratefully takes after asking you if it's okay. You begin leading him into the master bedroom. Kento's following close behind. Once inside the bedroom, you show Hiromi the comfortable sofa that's in the corner of the room. He sits down on it, noticing the side table is filled with all kinds of paraphernalia. Things ranging from glass pipes used to smoke marijuana, lots of different packs of cigarettes, and condoms of every variety. He even spots some smaller baggies with various pills inside.

"Help yourself to anything you like," you offer to him as you walk over to the expensive-looking stereo system. Some upbeat synthpop music begins to play softly.

Hiromi thanks you, but his eyes dart towards the door. Kento is beginning to undress, and his mouth is growing dry as he admires the man. He's so well-built. His muscles flex as he continues removing more of his clothing. Hiromi has never seen such a specimen of man before. Kento realizes he's being admired.

"So you're into men too, huh?" Hiromi blushes, "Well…uh…yeah, I guess."

You come over to both of them, and you sit on Hiromi's lap. You beckon Kento to come closer, and you begin to unbutton his pants and unbuckle his belt. You can feel Hiromi's erection poking you in the ass. Moving your hips to the rhythm of the song, you feel him twitching and throbbing with every move you make.

"She's a little temptress, hm?" Kento questions. "Mmm y-yeah, she sure is."

You continue to grind down against him, finally helping Kento out of his pants. He's only in his boxer briefs now, his cock straining against the material. Then you look up at him, begging him to take the lead on the next part of this.

He gathers you up in his arms, kissing you longingly and sloppily. Your tongues wrestle together, swapping spit together in such a lewd manner that Hiromi just cannot tear his eyes away from you both. He's going to enjoy watching you two make love.

Kento places you on the bed, his calloused hands rubbing and caressing all your erogenous zones. You moan softly as his fingers pinch and pull on your sensitive nipples. Then his head dips down to capture one of them into his mouth as his hands continue to undress you. Once your dress is pulled off, he turns to face the lawyer sitting in the corner.

"Wanna come see if she smells as good as she tastes?" Kento goads him on.

Within seconds, Hiromi is up and off the sofa and he's on his hands and knees at the foot of the large bed. Kento spreads your legs, showing the wet patch on your pretty little panties. Hiromi is practically salivating as he begins to get closer.

You shudder as Kento pulls your panties off so slowly, exposing you to the lawyer who is ready to worship you both body and soul. Then he turns to face Hiromi and he gives the man your soiled panties.

"Have those, she's got lots more."

The black-haired man holds the soiled material to his nose and takes a greedy inhale. He shudders at the sweet and musky scent of your arousal. His tongue darts out pathetically to lick up a bit of the nectar.

"Look at him," Kento draws your attention towards Hiromi. "Pussywhipped loser."

Something about watching the way Hiromi is licking your panties really drives you wild. With your pussy exposed, Kento begins teasing your clit with slow circles. You buck up to meet his hand, which earns you a scoff from your beautiful blond lover. When your eyes meet, you can see the warning in them to be a bit more patient.

Without warning, Hiromi brings himself closer to your pussy and his face is inches away from it. His pupils have all but turned into hearts when he looks at your cute little cunt. He's just about to lean in when Kento pushes him off the bed.

"Did you forget rule three already?! You can't just do whatever you want." Kento growls.

Hiromi apologizes profusely, his heart racing. The thought of Kento hurting him to lay claim to you is turning him on. Maybe he is just a pathetic, desperate sex fiend. A pervert who hasn't gotten laid in so long. He sits up on his knees, watching you both.

"You wanna know what it's like to not have to ask for permission? Watch closely,"

With those words, Kento sinks himself into your dribbling hole. You cry out, clinging to your husband. He begins drilling himself into you, making you moan just for him. Hiromi's eyes widen, watching the scene unfold in front of him.

"You like that, huh? Fucking loser, you love watching my wife take my cock, don't you?"

Kento's words are hitting him hard. Hiromi has to begin palming himself through his slacks, the precum making a stain in his boxers. You look at the lawyer, moaning loudly as Kento keeps hitting your sweet spot dead on. Hiromi brings your panties to his nose as he begins to unbuckle his belt and take his leaking cock out of his boxers.

"Look at him," Kento goads, "look how much he's so desperate."

Your eyes are practically rolled back in your skull, and anyone can see you're much too preoccupied with the pleasure to even think about looking at the desperate man who is now jerking off at the edge of your bed. Kento chuckles darkly.

"See that? That's what a woman in the throes of pleasure looks like. Something I'm sure you've barely ever seen in your life."

Hiromi grunts as he picks up the pace of stroking his cock. His fist is a blur as he jerks himself off; your panties are still pressed to his nose. Your sweet moans and cries of love make his cock dribble out even more precum.

"K-Ken…I'm gonna cum!"

Kento growls sensually before picking up his own pace. He's slamming into you, making sure to angle his hips so that the tip of his cock continues to ram against that sweet spot deep inside of you that makes you see stars. Waves of electricity course through your body, making the muscles in your groin begin to tense as your orgasm builds more and more. The flame in your belly is burning hot, and the coil snaps. Your nails dig into the muscles of his back, and your plump lips part to cry out his name.

"Fuck, she's milking my cock so good!" Kento grunts, his own orgasm imminent.

Hiromi feels his balls drawing up fast, and he can't keep his eyes off the lewd scene in front of him. He moans as he fucks his fist a little faster, squeezing as if it was your pussy milking him as well. Then with a loud grunt, he's cumming so hard. Spurts of his cum begin to shoot out and cover his fist and the edge of the bed.

"Hah, I knew you'd blow your load first!" Kento brags. "I could keep going, but I suppose I shouldn't overstimulate my wife too much. I think she's had too much excitement for one night,"

Hiromi is slack-jawed as he watches Kento plow himself into you. His cock throbs with every thrust, and Hiromi has the front-row seat to watch as the man fucking your brains out is about to cum. The long-nosed man is very mesmerized by the blond's movements.

"Shit, such a fucking good pussy! Fuck I'm gonna cum!" Kento cries out. "Watch Hiromi-san, this is how you breed a pretty little wife!"

With a loud roar, Kento's hips stutter as the pleasure hits him hard. Shot after shot of his potent and sticky cum begins to fill your pussy. You whine from the overstimulation, but he's quick to hush you with sweet words of praise and love. Then slowly, he settles onto your tits and begins sucking on them.

"Hiromi honey," you call out to the lawyer. He looks up at you, a blush on his cheeks. "Yeah?" You smirk, "Come here, honey."

Hiromi crawls onto the bed. Kento pulls out, and both men watch as the cum begins to leak out of your abused hole. The lawyer is salivating at the sight of your puffy cunt. Kento beckons him closer, spreading your thighs a little bit.

"Have a taste," Kento instructs. "You've been a pretty good boy. I think you deserve it. But…" Hiromi looks up at him, "But what?" "You've got to clean us both up. Not just her, you better be sucking me cleaning too."

Hiromi feels his cock springing back to life at the chance to taste you both. First, he leans in to take a big whiff of your pussy. It's taken on a more musky scent with Kento's seed mixing in, but it's definitely still making him dizzy. He tentatively licks your folds before moaning. He's in heaven as he begins to lap at you like you are his last meal.

"Heh, you still think she tastes like strawberries?" Kento asks him.

Hiromi looks up at him, his eyes glazed over with lust. He moans his response, not caring that Kento's seed is mixing with your arousal. To the lawyer, you both taste so heavenly. A flavor he doesn't want to soon forget.

Kento reaches over, gripping Hiromi's black hair. He pulls him away from your oversensitive cunt, and he pushes him towards his half-hard leaking cock. Hiromi is quick to open his mouth, savoring the taste of your pussy on Kento's cock. The black-haired man moans as he begins to take even more of your husband's dick in his mouth.

"Fuck, darling…do you see just how much of a pervert he is?"

With that, Kento pushes him off and lets you all catch your breath. You watch through half-lidded eyes as your husband dons his favorite robe and heads into the kitchen. Hiromi stays put on the ground, unsure of what to do. You pat the spot next to you, and he sits near you.

"Hiromi honey, did you enjoy yourself?" you turn around and grab the sheet to cover your body.

He finds it adorable that you're choosing to be more modest right now. The vulnerability in that one little move really makes his chest feel warm. Suddenly he feels like he's actually looking into your private life.

Kento returns with a few bottles of mineral water for all of you. He also has a warm washcloth for you and Hiromi. Hiromi blushes as he turns away from both of you and cleans off his cock and his hands. Kento sits on the bed and wipes up the cum from your puffy, red pussy.

Once everyone is decent and cleaned up, you all take a moment to drink the water. Kento lights up a cigarette and as a sign of good faith, he hands one to the lawyer who gratefully accepts it. You three sit on the bed with the window cracked open, smoking your cigarettes.

"Still need a place to crash?" Kento asks Hiromi. "Yeah, I'd love that."

You lean back against the pillows, beckoning the lawyer over. He strips down to his boxers and he crawls under the covers. There's a warmth that comes from you as you wrap your arms around him and allow him to snuggle against your breasts. What surprises Hiromi is when Kento settles behind the man and wraps a protective arm around him.

"Sleep tight," you coo softly. "Love you, Ken." "Love you too, sweetie. Sleep well."

And the three of you fall into a deep sleep…

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faithshouseofchaos · 2 months

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idk if u already wrote something similar BUT hear me out, for the lestappen x reader could you write something about how the world found out about it? I think it would be hella interesting if during a gp weekend Charles is too needy and can’t wait until they are to the hotel so he kinda like kisses and make out with reader thinking they’re good hidden but someone spots them, takes and posts the pictures?

And then just them having to explain no one is cheating on anyone

Secrets out— Lestappen x reader

Tagged- @ashy-kit @astraeaworld @67-angelofthelordme-67 @amatswimming @alwayzbeenale @a-casual-romantic @bblouifford @badassturtle13 @bbtoni @barcelonaloverf1life @charlesf1leclerc @crashingwavesofeuphoria @clowngirlsstuff @dark-night-sky-99 @dudenhaaa27 @eugene-emt-roe @embrosegraves @faithsotherhouseofchaos @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @formulas-bitch @hangmandruigandmav @hollie911 @hrts4scarr @ironcowboycopnickel @jeffs77 @lightdragonrayne @lollypop90907 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @moss-on-tmblr @natailiatulls07 @norrisleclercf1 @oconswrld @omgsuperstarg @otako5811 @purplephantomwolf @scotlynaurora @toasttt11 @uluvjay @vellicora @venusisnothere @vivwritesfics

You Max and Charles were all in a secret relationship but only you and Max were publicly dating each other. You and Max would love to be able to go out publicly with Charles but it’s not possible. So the three of you would have to settle for the secret meetings and the security of the hotel room.

“Max I need to go” you giggled prying yourself out of Max's hold.

“Go where?” He asked

“To see Charles he hasn’t stopped texting me” you tell him.

“He’s so Spoiled and needy” Max grumbles letting you go.

“I wonder why he’s so spoiled and needy” you retorted “but seriously I got to go see him before he loses it” you said giving Max one last kiss.

“Tell him I said to behave” max said as you left his drivers room to meet with Charles.

When you saw Charles he gave you one of his infamous shy smiles. He pulled you in for a hug and you squeezed him tightly as you pulled away.

“Hi Charles” you smiled kissing him on his forehead

“Max hopes you’ve been behaving” you said joking

“I always behave” he mumbled

“Max seems to think differently” you said “he also said that you’re spoiled and needy” you added as Charles backed you up to the wall.

Charles grinned slightly pushing you gently against the wall but being careful not to push you too far as he didn't want to hurt you. He chuckled slightly at the comment about being spoiled and kissed the side of your neck.

"I can't help it if both him and you spoil me"

"Besides" Charles said pulling you closer to him "aren't you just a tiny bit spoiled too?"

“I'm spoiled , I think you have the wrong girl,” you say.

His eyes narrowed in amusement as he looked at you. Then he smiled. "Oh you're definitely the correct girl... and you are definitely spoiled. Don't deny it."

"You love the attention and the affection you get from both me and Max" he said placing his hands on your waist

"Let's both be honest about that"

His words made your cheeks blush slightly and you looked down shyly from his gaze. Your silence told Charles that the statement was true as he chuckled softly at your reaction.

"I know I'm being a bit teasing but it's true" he whispered into your ear.

“I can’t deny it at all” you grinned “Max is so attentive and makes me feel loved and I do like the attention and affection from you as well it makes me feel special and safe” you confessed your cheeks still red from embarrassment at the teasing.

Charles smirked seeing that you agreed he was correct in his assumptions about you “You like the attention you get from us both don’t you?” He said softly, his breath tickling your ear.

“Can you blame I’m dating two of the hottest f1 drivers anyone would the attention from the both of you” you admitted

“So you are also needy and spoiled and what did you mean by telling me to behave?" He asked as he moved his hand to the back of your head and pulled you into a passionate kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you. His lips were soft and tender and the kiss felt like it would never end. You let your mind wander for a moment, enjoying the moment and the feeling of Charles's body pressed against yours.

“Max wanted to make sure you didn’t start texting or calling me with demands or to pout that we hadn’t given you attention” you tell Charles knowing that he knows all too well how Charles has acted when he feels he doesn’t have his fair share of attention.

“But clearly Max was right in his assumption” you say as Charles pulls you fully into his embrace to kiss you. You kiss back eagerly but pull away “we have to keep our distance in public, you don’t want me to start acting inappropriate here in the alley do you?”

The kiss slowly ended with Charles pulling away from you. His breath heaved slightly and you could see how much he enjoyed the kiss too. His eyes were fixated on your lips as he looked at you.

“I think it’s your turn to behave now” he whispered as he leaned in to kiss you gently on your forehead. The soft kiss made you blush and you felt like you had just melted into Charles's arms.

“I could kiss you all day” Charles sighed placing another tender kiss on your forehead

“But I have to go” he added pulling away from you

“I’ll text later”

You nodded as you watched Charles leave. His words made your mind race as it reminded of how much you wanted to continue your relationship with Charles. All of the texts, the late night meets, and the kisses made up for the fact that you couldn’t be publicly together like you could be with Max.

Going public with Charles was one of the many things that you and the boys talked about. In reality it was an untenable dream. You and Max already get so much hate Max’s hate comes from constantly whining and albeit drive to survive didn’t help the situation. Your hate started when you publicly started dating Max. People called you a gold digging whore and the hate would only get worse if fans found out about your secret relationship with Charles so your and Max's relationship with him would have to stay secret for now.

what you and Charles failed to notice during your intimate moment in the alley and someone took pictures and said pictures would be spreaded all over the internet now.

A couple hours later the boys along with a few other fellow drivers were attending a drivers press briefing.

“And if for Max, who I would like to apologize to real quick, how do you feel about the cheating scandal that your Girlfriend is a part of?” An interviewer asked

“What cheating scandal?” Max asked, confused, glancing at Charles.

“Well not too long ago there were pictures leaked of Charles Leclerc and Y/n l/n having a pretty intimate moment” the same interviewer replied.

Max and Charles shared a look that said fuck it let the world know.

“It isn’t cheating if we’re all dating” Max says with a shrug.

“So what you’re saying is that all three of you are in a relationship?” Another one asked.

“Yes that is correct” Max said

“Why may I ask you to keep this relationship a secret and how long has it been going on for?”

“We’ve been together for a year now and we kept it a secret because fans are known to be quite viscous to drives girlfriends” Max says

“Well Max and Charles I wish you the very best”

“Thank you”

Later that night you were laying in bed In between the boys talking about today.

“So the world of F1 knows now?” You asked

“Yes the world of Formula One knows” max said

“And thank god for that because now I get to have my good luck charm in the garage” Charles says holding onto you.

“No she’s my good luck charm” Max says, flicking Charles on the forehead.

“Ow what was that for?” Charles whined

“For conspiracy of stealing MY good luck charm”

“Oh come on max you had her for all of the 2023 season and won it’s my turn” Charles said

“Nope still mine”

“Boys behave” you say

“Tell max to share”

“No Charles I don’t know want to share”

“If you two don’t don’t stop arguing now I’ll be in Papaya orange for the rest of the season” you say

“I can share” Max says

“Me too”

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jellyfishandry · 3 months

Text

W/ a drop-dead gorgeous s/o

(^ From this post)

Characters: Shota Aizawa, Toshinori Yagi

CW: gn or fem reader, reader is described as sweet + other things, you're married to Shota cause I said so, insecurities, slight Toshi angst, giving them flowers, uhh lmk if I missed anything

A/N: This kind of thing is like my favorite thing to write. Also I couldn't resist adding a ship dynamic picture for Toshi's. (Tags: @nnnyxie, @bingewatchintilldawn)

Shota Aizawa

No one knows how he managed to catch your attention. He had a messy appearance, and he could be harsh at times. But you were absolutely stunning. Not to mention you were incredibly polite and sweet. The first time you met his class, almost everyone was shocked. You had probably brought him flowers after the USJ attack to hopefully cheer him up. Just about everyone knew he was married, as he wore a ring, but they did not expect someone so utterly gorgeous and kind to be his partner Hizashi and Nemuri were the only ones you had met, as they had gone to your guys' wedding. But his students are a bit flabbergasted, and are mainly the ones who don’t understand why you married him. But it doesn’t mean they don’t like you, in fact, they love it when you drop by. Mainly because you’re just nice, but also because Shota relaxes more around you, and they have a lower chance of being scolded… Or higher, depending on how you look at it But Shota is very thankful that you don’t mind the way he looks. He was initially surprised when he found out you liked him, but he quickly accepted it. Though he will admit he was slightly skeptical at first, wondering if you had an ulterior motive. But you truly just loved him for who he was. And he did eventually understand that you just had pure, innocent intentions.

Toshinori Yagi

He himself has no idea how he pulled you. He doesn’t have a great self image, so he doesn’t understand why you of all people would be interested in him. At the start of your relationship (also when he was crushing) he could barely breathe around you. And early in your relationship people warned him that you might be using him, or something like that, and using your attractiveness to your advantage. He tells them that he knows you would never do that, and he’s correct. It just might take some time for other people to see that. But as your relationship progressed, he became less flustered around you. He’ll occasionally have doubts, and say stuff like “You should be dating someone who still has their life ahead of them.” He was at the point where he was having a hard time comprehending how he could keep living without saving people But you reassure him that he’s the one you want, and that nothing is going to change that After he fought AFO, you brought him some flowers to put on his desk. But you wanted to surprise him, so you didn’t tell him you were coming So when you’re directed to the teachers lounge, there’s some awkward silence before he stands up and goes towards you. “You brought me flowers.?” He seriously didn’t expect you to get him anything, much less a bouquet of flowers He’s very grateful for the flowers, and he’ll keep them and then press them when they dry out (they’re sunflowers.) He wants to kiss you, but he feels that doing it in front of the other staff members (specifically Present Mic) wouldn’t be the best idea. And out of the students, Izuku is the first to find out, as he’s known Toshinori the longest. You probably end up calling him when he’s training him, and Izuku is able to tell reasonably quickly that whoever he’s talking to is very special to him. But he ends up meeting you when the other students do. And when you are introduced to them, you both receive a lot of questions. But in the end everyone likes having you around, and Toshinori is thankful for you and loves you very much.

This is the vibe you and Toshi give off

(The tweet is not mine)

|| Navigation ||

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angelrari · 9 months

Text

emotional bruises · pt. iv

lando norris / carlos sainz x singer!reader

faceclaim: emilia mernes

a/n; hello! i just wanted to tell you i'm travelling so i'll try to update as much as i can, but somedays i won't have access to wifi. i left this part scheduled so i'm sorry if i didn't tag somebody. also there's such a big written part here and i just hope my english is fine! and once again tysm for the comments and reading this! it makes my heart full ❤

ps. carlos is coming i promise!!

prev | next

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yourusername

liked by jennierubyjane, francisca.cgomes and 1,893,071 others

yourusername hi barbie! 💗

view all 16,280 comments

jennierubyjane gonna miss you like crazy

yourusername i'm gonna keep calling you until you get tired of me

jennierubyjane never!!

username she's so unbothered exactly

· · · · ·

"i don't think lando is a bad guy". you said and jennie quickly raised her gaze. "a terrible boyfriend, but a good person overall".

"y/n, you know there has to be a reason why he decided to say that on tv. and i do agree that he's a nice person to everyone else, but he wasn't to you, at least not during the last months of your relationship".

"i know, but-"

"look. i think there are two- three reasons why he said what he said. one, his pr team are tired and decided to try to save his reputation. two, he's very aware that you two are gonna be in the same city soon and he's gonna hit you up. three, he's trying to get inside your head now you said you're doing well. if there wasn't a reason behind this, he'd skipped the question".

"do you think he wasn't honest then?"

"y/n, has he texted you since that day? when you broke up?" she asked and you quickly shook you head. "then no, he's not being honest. what would've you done if it was the other way around? if it was you and it truly was a mistake?"

"it depends on how he would've reacted, but i've probably tried to save the relationship somehow".

"right. he hasn't. we both know he gave up on this relationship way before that happened. one day you were the love of his life and the next day he didn't remember to text you back. y/n, enough is enough".

· · · · ·

yourusername

liked by rosalia.vt, lilymhe and 1,541,971 others

yourusername had a tiny break before going to singapore (don't worry i'm getting on a plane now). i have a feeling this weekend we're gonna have so much fun ️‍❤️‍🩹

view all 15,937 comments

username don't ask me the color of anything

username i bet lando is throwing a fit rn

lilymhe can't waitttt for our date👯

username what about alex?

lilymhe y/n first!!

yourusername

liked by francisca.cgomes, lilymhe and 1,122,829 others

yourusername i think i'm gonna regret posting these pics tomorrow but i missed these girls so much ️‍❤️‍🩹

view all 12,139 comments

username omg the wags are reunited???????

username shut up i'm gonna cry

danielricciardo i'm gonna have to pick heidi up right?

username correct!! (and me too)

danielricciardo then i'm not going! (i'll be there in 30 mins)

username you're the besttttttttt

danielricciardo please stop drinking

· · · · ·

a girl's night out was exactly what you needed (or at least that's what lily thought). so she planned a gorgeous dinner at a fancy restaurant on the rooftop of a huge building and invited kika, heidi and carmen. laughter filled most part of the night (except when your ex was brought up), the bartender kept bringing new cocktails to the table and you swore you hadn't felt this happy in a while.

earlier heidi had figured out you were staying at the same hotel as her (and daniel), so she offered you to join them on their way back as he would be picking her up.

daniel couldn't stop joking about how drunk the both of you were. he adored you, you were always kind and caring, and he always loved your friendship with heidi. so when he realized that you didn't know that lando and you would be staying at the same hotel he decided to keep his mouth shut, knowing it would ruin the night for you.

at the hotel, you hugged your friends as you wished them good night, since they were staying in a different part. you took the elevator and waited until it reached your floor. your heart felt so full because you'd just spent such a wonderful night. but when door's opened and you saw the face of the man you once loved you couldn't stop yourself from saying out loud:

"fuck".

· · · · ·

taglist: @roseseraj��@katcontrreras @boiohboii @eugene-emt-roe @inesven @jjsprobablywrong @nooshytushie @willowpains @shessthunderstoms @thecubanator2 @black-swan-blog27 @sltwins @peachiicherries @ietss @elliegrey2803 @be-your-coffee-pot @leclercloml @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @nooshytushie @incoherenciass

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neoarchipelago · 1 year

Text

And they were Roommates (part 7)

A/N; Alright, fristly, thank you all so much for the love you're giving this fic. Seriously it warms my heart. This tag list is huge and it makes me want to cry. Also, i couldn't tag on the post cuz i had reached the word limit TT0TT I hope it works anyway

I'm getting more and more anxious to fail you guys, i just hope i'm not gonna fuck this up...

Again thank you for all your ideas and headcanons you guys are amazing!

Warnings: cursing?

The first month. You were in denial. You spent it overworking yourself, avoiding anything that could remind you of him. You had even put his stupid plush in his room, closing the door and keeping it closed. Laswell kept a close eye on you, you knew that.

You'd spend most of your time on base, only going home to sleep. And then. You were put on time off. Forcefully.

Laswell asked you to take a week off and to stay home. You had strongly fought over it but to no avail. So around the first week to the second month, your time off began. You thought you might go insane. But you received visits from your new neighbor who you learnt was named Peter. Peter was a nice guy, a bit shy. He'd pass by sometimes to drop one of your packages. You'd have small talk or conversations.

It made you feel less alone. Because not only did you miss… Simon. You also missed the rest of the squad. The house felt dead..during that week, your mind had started going downhill. By Thursday you had gone back to his room to fetch the little reaper. Now you'd spend your days on your couch, cuddling the damn thing.

Laswell had ordered you to work from home for the rest of the month. She passed by often. To check on you. She'd get in, not bothering to knock because you couldn't care anymore.

Once she walked in on you, sitting on the bathroom floor in front of the washing machine, eating chips, watching the plush inside spin around.

"What are you doing?"

"Reaper is taking a bath." You had answered with very little emotion.

During that month, Peter had spent a bit more time with you. He'd pass by to share some food, or to watch a movie. He seemed to have taken pity on you. Even though he picked up Reaper once and you had thrown him a murderous glare.

And then Laswell had passed by. A serious look on her face.

"The mission isn't going as planned. They're not coming home yet."

You had felt yourself break a bit more.

"Are they ok?"

"From our intel, they're ok."

You had sighed with relief. This was the third month they'd been gone. You didn't think you'd ever feel this type of sadness in your life. There was no point denying it. In such little time, Simon had managed to get his way through your heart and nest there.

Your recent coping mechanism was putting on his hoodie, and sleeping in his bed with Reaper. He'd be so pissed if he knew. You were hoping he'd come back so he could be pissed with you. At least he'd be here.

You'd spend your days at the base, this time your schedule was closely being watched by Laswell, and then you'd go home, absolutely hating it, trying not to cry.

A heart wrenching thought kept stammering your brain. What if he never came back… the last things you would have said to each other would have been said in anger. You didn't think you could live through that.

When the 4th month started, you had become unbearable for Laswell. You wanted to know everything about the mission. She kept refusing, reminding you it was a highly classified mission, as you replied you couldn't give a shit about classified or not.

You wanted squad 141 back. Or as you had almost screamed once 'your team'. You had seen Laswell wanting to correct you that it wasn't your team but she refrained, understanding how you were feeling.

She couldn't tell you about the mission but she made sure to keep you updated. They're fine. They've managed to get to the location. They've been ambushed but made it out.

You were torn in between hating her updates and feeling relieved. To keep you busy and from having a nervous breakdown she put you up on a mission. Some drug lord that used the dark web to sell and buy his merchandise. You were definitely not into it. But if you could pass your anger on that asshole you would.

You had easily infiltrated his little circle, managed to dismantle various locations, though he kept slipping through your fingers.

You had gone back home that night, around the middle of the fourth month, absolutely frustrated from everything.

"It's so fucking frustrating you know? It's like he's always a tiny step away."

You explained as you were unpacking your food order.

"He seems to know there's someone after his ass and I can't fucking get to him." You continued. "And Laswell is not letting me get onto the file for the mission the boys are on. GOD I could just … throw something on fire!"

You groaned looking straight in the eyes of your friend. The plush looked at you without moving.

You sighed. "I've been talking to an inanimate object." You said, putting your face in your hands. You dropped them on the table again.

"No offense Reaper." You apologized, turning your attention back to the food, the TV in the background filling up the silence a bit.

You kept munching on your food.

After you were done, you grabbed Reaper and sat on the couch, a blanket over you. You squished the fluffy death spawn in your hands. You missed him. You FUCKING missed him.

You didn't even know how you'd react when he'd be back. You were still furious at him. Deeply hurt. But you were also so worried, and so sad.

You groaned. You wanted him to be back. Even if it was to yell at him that he was an asshole.

A knock at the door was heard. You rolled your eyes. You got up, Reaper still in your arms as you went to open the door.

"Hey!"

You stared at Peter.

"Hi Peter." You replied without a single emotion on your face.

"Ah… bad day?"

"Bad existence."

He laughed. You walked inside, knowing he'd follow you.

"I came to check to see if you wanted to watch a movie."

You let yourself fall back down on the couch.

"Not really into it tonight. Sorry."

"Nah no problem I get it." He said sitting at the other end of the couch. "Is there something I can do to cheer you up?" .

You looked at him for a little minute. You shook your head. "Alright. Want a beer?"

"I hate beer."

"Fine. A shot of vodka?" He proposed.

You nodded.

That guy was a lightweight. 5 shots of vodka and he couldn't properly form a sentence. You had walked him back to his apartment, making sure he was in bed and locking his door. You were a bit drunk too but not enough to erase your thoughts.

You sighed. Walking into the hallway you stopped, looking right and left. You wanted to sleep in his bed again… you shouldn't. But you wanted to. You walked into the room looking at the bed. You remembered waking up in it, his body warm against yours. His morning voice was deeper. You liked it. You closed your eyes for a second before turning around and walking into your room.

The alcohol helped as you closed your eyes, you fell fast asleep.

The day after had been the same. And the day after as well. But the next was a bit different. You were concerned by something during your work. It seemed that the drug lord had also a hacker in his ranks. And not a bad one. You could probably outsmart him or her but you had been neglectful. Your mind had been more worried about another mission that wasn't yours.

You headed home after the day. You were exhausted. The fourth month was coming to an end. You didn't feel like eating. You didn't feel like anything. As you got home, you showered, drying your hair afterwards, slipping into one of Simon's black hoodies. You took Reaper with you, slipping under the covers of your bed. This time, you couldn't stop the tears from falling. You hugged the round fluffy thing against you, wishing he was there instead.

And it was with the tears that the Sandman took you away.

Around 6 am, your phone rang. You blinked your eyes open. Without checking, which had become a habit, you answered.

"Hello..?" You answered.

"Y/N."

"Laswell ? Kate… it's 6 am."

"We have news from squad 141."

You sat up in your bed.

"What is it…"

"They've completed their mission. The extraction was successful."

You closed your eyes, a shaky breath leaving your lips.

"They'll be back in a little over 24h."

"Thank you… really."

"No problem. Go back to sleep."

You chuckled. She hung up. You let yourself fall back into bed. They were ok. He was ok… you looked up at the ceiling. Now that you knew he was coming back, that he was safe. The worry, the anxiety had vanished. Pain and anger taking their place. How was he going to react? Will you be strangers? How will you react? One thing was for sure. You wouldn't be the one to give in. You wanted to… god you wanted to. You wanted to feel him near you. To hug him. But the way he left was printed in your memory. The way you felt when you got home, in an empty house. With not a single word from him.

Pushed by a rise of determination, you got out of bed, grabbing each hoodie you could find that was his. You took off the one you were wearing, and walked to the bathroom, throwing them all in the washing machine. You put it to wash. He wants his hoodies back? Fine. He'll have them. Brand New. Without any trace that you wore them.

And with that thought in mind you climbed back into bed.

You had flung yourself back into work the next day, trying to suppress the new anxiety that grew in you. You were still trying to figure out who the hacker working for the drug lord was. He seemed to be good at cleaning any trace of himself. You didn't want to go home. You glanced at your phone. 2 am. You were still at the base. You were surprised Laswell hadn't come to drag you home herself as she sat not too far from you.

You had been sitting here for the entire day, trying to figure out your little con's next move. It was infuriating. Driving you insane. You blinked.

Hi birdie.

You froze. What? No. It was a coincidence. You checked that your location or anything that could be used to track you down was locked away and secure.

You kept browsing the website deep in the dark web, shaking the odd feeling away. But this time, it was a whole sentence that made you frown.

On a little branch was a little bird. The little sparrow, unaware of the cat lurking by, sang its heart away.

You were sure. It was meant for you. That Goddamn hacker was taunting you.

"Laswell." You called.

"Yes?" She answered, stepping towards you.

You pointed at the screen, highlighting the little text with your mouse.

"Shit." She cursed. "what does it mean?"

You shrugged.

"It can mean various things. Obviously they know it's the Sparrow they are facing. But I've made sure my real identity was safe so I don't think they have that. My location is safe too, there was no hack attempt. These are just little messages scattered around the websites we're checking for their little trades." You explained.

"So what? They're threatening you?"

"I don't think so. It seems like they're trying to get on my nerves. Probably to distract me from something. Just got to find out what." You said with a sigh.

"Alright. If you have anything new, call me. Now go home." She said a little tap on your back.

You eyed the screen in front of you. This was interesting. If they truly were trying to distract you, it was a bit silly. You took a mental note to be more careful from now on.

You had scanned all the little messages around the web sites, trying to find something that would link them. Clearly, they were all aimed at you. Whoever it was kept calling you birdie. And it was highly annoying. You were growing tired yet you felt so giddy. You felt nervous. You closed your eyes, sighing. It was time to head home.

The night had been short. You were exhausted. You rolled around in bed. You closed your eyes. Silence.

Silence… and a laugh? You frowned.

You got up, taking Reaper in your arms. You slowly opened the door, peeking out. There were definitely voices whispering. You opened the door wider, stepping out and tip-toeing your way to the end of the hallway.

You looked around the corner and froze.

"God fucking damn it!" You cursed out loud.

You fully came into view now taking in the sight before you.

"Sparrow!!"

The man jumped, running to you and swaying you in his arms.

"God soap! You're squishing me and Reaper!" You complained.

"Who?" Gaz asked.

After putting you down you looked at soap, extending your arms to his face so he could be eye to eye with the plush.

"Oh. Alright. Sorry Reaper." He said with a wide smile.

You smiled jumping on him this time. They were back. They were safe!

"Hahaha!" He laughed.

He put you down again. Stepping aside to let you greet the rest of the team.

You hugged gaz. Then Price took you in his arms, staying like that for a little moment.

"Missed you dad" you whispered jokingly.

"Missed you sweety." He whispered in the same tone.

And then came his turn. Standing in front of each other, eye to eye. You wanted to run and hug him. Fuck you wanted to touch him to make sure this was real. Unfortunately for the both of you, the pain was deeper than anything else. He didn't move, no expression. Did he regret? Did he care? Had he already put aside anything feeling or affection you had towards each other? With a lump in your throat you spoke first.

"Lieutenant." You greeted.

He frowned.

"Sparrow." He answered.

Nothing else was said. It broke your heart. You could feel it. You turned around looking at the guys again, clearly sensing their discomfort.

"You were supposed to arrive a bit later, what happened?" You asked sitting down on the couch, the boys mimicking you. Ghost remained up, glancing at you from afar.

"We managed to wrap it up and we jumped on the plane back. We've been told someone has been worried about us." Gaz answered, sending you a knowing look.

"Really? Wonder who could it be…" you feigned innocence.

"Yes, it's odd, Laswell said she was pestered for weeks. " Price added.

"Truly curious." You added an innocent look and batted your lashes, making the men laugh.

"What about you? How's it going?" Soap asked.

"I'm fine." You lied.

"You look tired." Price noted.

Suddenly you felt watched.. Everyone was staring at you. Ghost looked more tense than the others.

"I've been working on a mission and it's been a bit complicated. I stayed at the base until pretty late- with Laswell." You looked at Price.

He smirked.

"What's complicated about it?" Gaz asked.

"It's… it was easy at first. But it seems that I'm facing someone like me…" you tried to explain without giving any details as the mission was confidential. "And he, or she, seems to always be a step ahead. And… mostly. It's been acting weird."

You frowned, losing yourself a bit in your own mind.

"Hey, Sparrow" soap called.

You looked at him.

"You got this."

You smiled at him. Nodding off.

"We brought breakfast. Ghost said you like muffins!" Price chimed.

You glanced at the man again, still glancing at you. If he thought it'd be that easy he was wrong.

You ate breakfast with the team, so thrilled to have them back. You felt as if life had been brought back into the apartment. The only thing that took away some of that happiness was the tension between you and Ghost.

After helping you clean out they offered to take you to base, and you accepted. You excused yourself to go get dressed quickly. Once you were ready, you opened your door falling face to face with a skull mask.

You stared at each other. You did your best to show an emotionless facade.

"You washed the hoodies."

"Yes."

"And you put them in my room."

"Correct."

Silence.

"Are you giving them back?"

"Affirmative."

"Fuck…" he cursed frowning. "Y/N-"

"Sparrow." You corrected.

He looked hurt for a second.

"Why?" He asked.

"A beg your pardon?" You asked frowning too.

"Why are you doing this?" He questioned. You could feel the frustration.

"Doing what? Isn't this what you wanted, Lieutenant? You wanted to erase everything and you wanted your hoodies back."

"Stop…"

"Stop what?"

He didn't answer. Your heart was beating so fast. It was torture not giving in. But this time you wouldn't let him get away with it. He couldn't just play with your feelings like this. He sighed, straightening up. He looked… embarrassed? For a second.

"Did… did you have to wash them?" He asked.

First you were confused. And then you remembered what he had said once.

"Everytime I take back one of my hoodies there's your scent on it…"

"What? I smell bad?" You laughed.

"Quite the opposite…"

You smirked. Walking out of your room slowly and closing your door behind you. You looked up at him.

"I wouldn't give you the pleasure of leaving my scent on it. You've lost that privilege." You finished with an innocent smile before turning away and walking away from him.

You very distinctly heard him curse. You smirked. If he wanted you back, he'd have to fight for it. And if he didn't… then you'd be settled on his feelings.

You had driven to the base with the squad. After getting out of the cars, you had all gathered.

"It feels good to be back! See Sparrow? We're all good! We can come back to annoy you in your apartment!" Soap joked.

"Don't you dare." Ghost had growled.

"It will be my pleasure." You countered, sending a side glance to Ghost as he frowned again. Soap was thrilled.

It was on a light note that you separated, the boys going their way to meet and start on the mission report, as you went back to your drug dealer.

Walking in the big room, you sat down at one of the tables facing an enormous screen. Various setups with their own screens were scattered around the room, where people worked. You greeted everyone. You received smiles and little good mornings.

You opened your laptop freezing on the spot. You blinked and gasped at the black screen. 'encrypted'.

"No..nonononoo…"

Laswell had immediately come to you.

"What's wrong?"

"My laptop is encrypted. Fuck!" You checked your phone. Also encrypted.

"What does it mean?"

"It means. Someone tried to get in. As a defense mechanism it encrypts itself, and the rest of the devices linked to it. It blocks anything or anyone from touching the data."

You tried to explain, already trying to decrypt your device.

"When did it happen?"

"I don't know, recently. My phone was fine 20 mins ago." You explained.

"Guys!" You called, gaining everyone's attention. "Any attack? Anything?"

"No ma'am. We did find three other sentences on websites that were not on our radar. We managed to find 3 domains where the trades were active." The boy explained.

"What…?" You were confused now.

"He flagged these websites? He literally showed them to us?" Laswell interrogated.

You looked at your screen as it slowly booted back into your home screen.

"Sparrow. What's going on."

You were still in shock. The words written in a small window opened on the home's screen seemed to laugh at you.

"Sparrow?" Laswell called again.

You turned the screen to her. She frowned.

"He served us these tips on a silver platter. And it wasn't to make a diversion on something big. Because he's not working with the drug lord. Not anymore."

You couldn't believe you were once again in this situation. Laswell sighed.

"It's official. You're his target."

You turned back to the screen, taking a deep breath rereading the words one last time.

You're mine birdie.

Laswell had driven you home that evening. She had walked you to your door and walked you inside. There she was again. The mama bear.

You sighed, dropping your bag on the floor, not even shocked to see the whole squad in the living room. You glared at soap.

"Put down Reaper." You ordered.

He immediately put it back on the couch, noticing your awful mood. Price had noted too, and had mostly noticed how Laswell was tense.

"What's going on?" He asked, turning to Laswell.

Before she could answer you chimed in, as you walked to grab a glass of water.

"A mission going south. Nothing unusual in our field." You said, throwing a knowing look at Laswell.

She looked pissed for a moment but brushed it off.

"Y/N." She said seriously. You choked on the water. She had just spoken your real name in front of everyone. Everyone went silent looking at you and Kate.

"You are not allowed to leave the base." She started.

"I'm already not allowed to leave the base." You protested.

"You are to be accompanied by someone each time you leave your apartment."

You opened your mouth in shock, wait. This was going too far. The boys had turned serious.

"You'll be closely watched by squad 141."

"Oh come on! They've just come back from a mission!" You debated again.

"No arguing." She ordered.

"You are overreacting Kate." You answered in the same tone.

"Hey hey. Intel." Price interupted, standing up.

"No! No. Absolutely not." You snapped. "You are overreacting Kate. It wasn't even a threat. I'll get to him before he can even guess the continent I'm in." You started.

"This isn't the first time Y/N! I'm not taking any chances." She tried to explain.

"There's no need to take a chance. I'm literally at the base. I go nowhere else. I haven't gone into a civilian zone since… I don't even remember!" You debated.

She crossed her arms.

"Kate. Do you think I'm unsafe here, at the base?" You asked.

"No." She was forced to admit.

"Then no problem. No close security, no babysitters." You asked.

She seemed to ponder. Then she sighed, relaxing a bit.

"I still want to know." Price asked again.

You rolled your eyes. You felt like you were being scolded by your parents. And God knows it hadn't happened in a very very long while.

"I'm working on a mission. I had a target and it was being helped by a skillful fucker. Turns out, that fucker betrayed the target and seems a lot more interested in me."

"Did he threaten you?" Soap asked. You had never seen him this serious.

"No-"

"Yes." Laswell interrupted. You rolled your eyes.

"Not. Really." You added. Glancing at Laswell. "It was some cryptic message. But he did try to hack me personally." You finally said sitting down at the counter. You sighed. You had to make sure to find him before Laswell and now, by the looks of it, Price, had a nervous breakdown.

"No need for the squad."

A shiver ran down your spine. You slowly turned to look at Simon.

"I'm not going anywhere."

You wanted to throw something at his face.

This bitch. You had looked at him in utter shock and disapproval. You were pacing around in your room. This was all too much. Your mind was a mix of so many things, emotions, thoughts. A soup. Your mind was soup. Wait. What?

You closed your eyes. You were going to go insane.

A knock on the door was heard. You rolled your eyes for what seemed to be the hundredth time today.

"Yes?"

You had that funny feeling again as you saw him walk into your room, closing the door behind him.

Does he have any idea the hold he had on you? You glanced at his hand. You wanted to smile but bit your lip to avoid it. He had one of his hoodies in his hand.

"Do you want it?"

"You want me to wear it now? " You ask.

"Never said you couldn't. Just want them back."

"No thank you." You answered with a fake forced smile because clearly he was so cute.

He looked away with what seemed to be a smirk under his mask.

"Are you going to be mad forever?"

He asked.

The question made your blood boil, turning your mood back to something very sour.

"Why? This what you wanted no? Didn't think about the consequences when you'd be back?" You asked, stepping closer to him. "You put a single thought into what would happen if you'd be back? Or maybe you just thought I'd jump into your arms as if you hadn't broke me and stepped all over my FUCKING heart?" You finished, a few inches from him.

You blushed slightly. Your lips had moved faster than your brain. But you had been honest with him. He looked hurt for a second. Like he had the right to.

"Y/N. I'm sorry…" he said.

You bit your lip. No. Not so easily.

"Simon. Sorry isn't going to fix this…" you answered.

"What is then? Tell me." His voice lowered.

"You're going to have to make up your mind Simon. Do you want me in your life or not? I can't keep being hurt each time you feel like pushing me away." You said honestly.

He frowned. His fingers lifting up to your waist. The touch gave you goosebumps. You hadn't felt his touch since he arrived. And you craved it. For some reason, while looking into his eyes, you knew he did too. He just seemed afraid to scare you away. He leant down letting his forehead touch yours. The mask felt cold against your skin. His other hand joined your waist this time, more confidently. He wrapped his arms more tightly around you pulling you flushed against him. Your breath had quickened.

"Simon…" you whispered.

"I've been wanting to hold you since I arrived…" he growled.

"S-simon…" you tried, softly pushing on his chest with your hands.

"To touch you … fuck… you smell so good…"

"Is this what you really wanted… to hold me so your shirt smells like me…" you smirked.

He chuckled.

"Are you going to wear my hoodies…?"

"No…" you whispered.

He held you tighter.

You felt so warm, god you had missed him. There was still something in the back of your mind just repeating to you that he hurt you.

"You're not going to make it that easily Simon… you need to make up your mind.." you broke.

He stared into your eyes, so God damn close to you.

Knock knock knock.

"Hey guys! We're leaving, come say bye bye!"

You laughed at Soap's voice.

You separated with a curse.

"God damn it johnny…" Ghost said.

You cleared your throat.

"Seems like we have places to be." You said.

He grabbed your wrist, marking you look into his eyes.

"I'll apologize properly. I promise."

"Try to figure out what you want first..." you said, a heavy weight on your heart.

Once in the living room you hugged everyone goodbye. Laswell and Price were the first to leave. A bit later you and Ghost walked gaz and soap to the door.

"See you tomorrow then!" Soap cheered.

"Absolutely not." Ghost answered.

"It'll be lovely Soap." You countered. "Get home safely."

"Lose yourself on the way." Ghost added.

You smiled and rolled your eyes.

Behind Soap, a silhouette appeared.

"Hey Sparrow! Got you some-"

The squad turned to stare at the new arrival. You smirked, feeling Ghost lean closer to you.

"Hey Peter." You greeted.

"Hum…hi… so… you want the muffins?"

"We have muffins." You heard Ghost next to you.

"It will be lovely Peter, thank you." You smiled as you walked to him, grabbing the bag. He smiled at you sheepishly.

"Let me present to you the squad" you said, turning back to them.

"Ah… i-its not necessary… squad 141 is famous… especially… Humm.."

"Me." Ghost said. His voice had gotten darker.

You noticed how Peter seemed to be scared of Ghost.

"So… hum, which one is your roommate?" He asked, turning to you with a smile.

You smiled apologetically to him.

"Me." Ghost said again, this time grabbing the back of your pants and pulling you back closer to him. You gasped. What the…? (t

Soap and Gaz were trying not to laugh and Peter… had changed expression.

"Oh, Nice. Hum, I'm gonna go guys. Nice seeing you, Sparrow." He smiled at you.

Then he glanced up. If it wasn't for a tiny second you would have missed it. The cold and dark gaze Ghost and Peter sent each other.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost smut #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #gaz cod #john price #price cod #captain price #fanfics #fanfiction #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare

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xpao-bearx · 1 year

Text

"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 1 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

Read Part 4 HERE

NOTES: Y'ALL the way my jaw literally DROPPED when not even H A L F a minute after I posted the first part, you guys were already exploding my notifs which I wasn't expecting AT ALL I swear Oscar Isaac's really got us sluts in a chokehold O_o

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOUUU!!! 😭❤️❤️❤️ This is truly wonderful and encourages me a lot, especially since this is my first ever Moon Knight fic AND the first time a story of mine blew up this much! This is also great cuz I've been terribly sick, but of course ✨️priorities✨️ I gotta shower our Moon Boys with some much deserved lovin' and it's just so fucking nice to see that it's paying off! \(^o^)/ I was so happy and inspired that I couldn't resist and just HAD to write this second part ASAP!

Dissociative identity disorder is also briefly mentioned here and if I made any mistakes, then I apologize and please kindly correct me. And I feel like the ending may be a bit rushed, but it's the best my tiny brain could think of!

I'll shut up now and I'm very proud and excited to present... PART 2!!! 🥳 And if you'd like to be tagged for any of the next parts, feel free to tell me!

Also Marc does something very asshole-y here oop

TAGS: @autismsupermusicalassassin @ungracefularchimedes @pimosworld @ababynova @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @anapnovo-blog @am-3-thyst @harrys-tittie @zukoisbabee @wiltedwonderland

Part 2: You made me feel I've nothing to hide

After work, instead of heading home, you rushed straight to the nearest boutique to buy yourself a new dress for tomorrow night. The butterflies in your stomach were doing somersaults and you felt as if you could spontaneously burst into song like in those cheesy musicals your former college roommate was so obsessed with.

You knew the employees were all looking at you oddly as you constantly giggled to yourself like some lovesick schoolgirl while you perused through endless racks of the latest fashion. Of course you knew you were acting ridiculous--crazy--but wasn't that what attraction or, dare you say, love did to you?

Besides, you wanted tomorrow to go perfectly. In your eyes, Steven Grant was already perfect--perfectly imperfect or imperfectly perfect, you didn't know or care which was which. You just knew that you liked him. A lot.

And it relieved and pleased you to the moon and back that he actually felt the same! So, who cares what anyone else thought?

You just hoped that after tomorrow, Steven would like you enough to go on another date. And another. Then another...

Maybe you were looking--wishing--too far into the future, but you swore you could almost hear wedding bells chiming in the distance.

God, is this what happens after being a total virgin for twenty-something years? There was absolutely nothing wrong with being a virgin, but your insecurity bugged you. What if you weren't at all what Steven expected?

But another part of you, a positive ray of sunshine, clobbered all your doubts. For once, you were going to be brave! You were going to take a leap of faith! You were going to control your life!

Because, in the end...it was worth it. Steven was worth it. Sure, you've experienced various crushes throughout your life, but not like this. Not with Steven. This felt more...serious. Adult.

It felt as if right from the get-go crossing fates with "Steven with a V", your life was about to change--for the better.

Of course you were afraid, and yet you've also never been more sure of something in your entire existence. You've been waiting this long and you're glad you did, and now you were ready to jump head first (and head over heels) into whatever adventure was in store for you--with Steven.

You then squealed excitedly when you spotted the perfect dress, ignoring the judgmental stares other customers shot you as you hurriedly grabbed it like a child in a toy store.

Yes, tomorrow was going to be a dream come true.

♡•••🌙•••♡

You arrived at the restaurant thirty minutes early. It was totally embarrassing how eager you were, but you couldn't help yourself. Though at least with how early you were, you snagged a good table overlooking the restaurant's beautiful back garden strung with fairy lights and you can have some time to calm down before Steven came.

And you looked stunning. Your hair tumbled down in elegant waves, light makeup adoring your face and donning the contact lenses you rarely used. And the dress you bought fit like a glove; it was the shortest dress you now owned, stopping around your thighs. It was baby blue and had an off-the-shoulder style with some frills, and it hugged your figure just right.

You felt very self-conscious. You've always fancied clothes like this, but never actually had the guts to wear them--until now. Did it really suit you? But you couldn't deny that you were happy and, truly, isn't that all that mattered?

"Shall I get you started, ma'am?" A waitress snapped you back to reality and you shook your head.

"Not yet, thank you. I'm still waiting for my...date." The word made you blush furiously, as if sharing a dirty little secret.

The waitress smiled and nodded, leaving you by yourself once more as you sighed wistfully.

You took out your phone from your purse, checking the time. 6:45 p.m. Alright, not too long now. And you double checked that the address you texted Steven was correct, which it is.

You settled back in your chair, peering over the garden and giggling softly.

"I'm right here for you, Steven."

♡•••🌙•••♡

"It's about time, innit?" Steven murmured, glancing over anxiously at his wristwatch for the umpteenth time. It was already eight p.m., a whole hour past your meeting time (not to mention he arrived embarrassingly early). And he was just informed by one of the servers that the restaurant was closing in thirty minutes, to which a pitiful look was also casted to him.

"It's not 'about time', Steven. It's late." Marc gruffly pointed out, Steven seeing Marc's reflection glaring back at him from the shiny silver flower vase set in the middle of the table. "Face it: she's NOT coming."

"Don't you dare say that." Steven's voice was barely above a whisper, but there was a certain edge to it that one would normally not hear from the soft man. "Y/N would never do that. Not her. She's just running late, I'm sure. Traffic and all."

"Oh, please, we both know that even the traffic here doesn't take this long." Marc scoffed. "Stop kidding yourself, Steven. She's. NOT. Coming."

Steven frowned, and with a shaky hand he pulled out his phone. He should've called you since way earlier. It was the logical thing to do, after all. But he was...scared. Scared that, maybe, a terrifying maybe, Marc was right.

He found your number and called you, pressing his phone to his ear as it began to ring. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until you finally picked up, voice groggy.

"Hello..?"

"Y/N..." Steven heaved a relieved exhale. "Hey, uh, I'm at the restaurant. Guess you got stuck in traffic?" He chuckled halfheartedly.

A long, dreadful pause. And then:

"Fucking EXCUSE me?"

Steven's eyes widened, having never heard you swear before. He was just about to ask what was wrong when you continued without skipping a beat.

"Are you playing with me, Steven? Is this what it is?!" You definitely sounded angry, but he didn't miss the faint sniffles coming from you. Shit, were you crying? What the hell was happening?

"How can you be such a...such a DICK?!" You shouted, causing him to jerk his phone a few inches away from his ear. "I fucking waited for you like a total idiot until closing time, you prick! You never showed and you never answered my calls! What the fuck can you POSSIBLY gain from toying with me, huh?!"

"W-Wait, I don't understand!" Steven was nearly hyperventilating, all the colour draining from his face and his mind running a mile a minute. "I-I'm here! Right now! D-Didn't we agree? Friday night, seven p.m.?"

You were dead silent. Steven was going to check if the call was still connected when you beat him to it.

"Steven... It's Sunday."

Steven froze. Then his eyes landed on Marc's reflection, refusing to meet his gaze and it clicked.

"Y/N." Steven said slowly, steadily, despite feeling like crying himself. His eyes were still on Marc, cold and pissed. "Please. I promise I have an explanation. I just... God, can we meet? Y/N, please, I'll come to you."

"No need." Tears threatened to spill from Steven's despondent eyes at your flat response, before you suddenly added: "I'll come to you. You said you were at the restaurant, right? Stay there."

You ended the call, and Steven flared at Marc--no longer caring if other people perceived him as a lunatic fighting with himself.

"Why the fuck would you do that, Marc?"

"Steven..." Marc struggled to find the right words, and the asshole actually had the audacity to look ashamed. "Listen, she's nothing but a distraction--"

"You always think you know better, yeah?" Steven laughed humourlessly. "A distraction? YOU stop kidding yourself, Marc. This is not just your life, but mine. And it's about fucking time you stop being such a selfish bastard!"

"Um, sir?" Steven winced, greeted by a baffled waiter. "We'll be closing soon, so I'm gonna have to ask you to leave if you're not ordering anything."

Humiliated and repeatedly babbling apologies, Steven abruptly sprang out of his chair and dashed outside. He sighed deeply and collapsed listlessly on the ground, finally allowing the tears to fall.

He vaguely heard footsteps approaching until he saw a pair of worn bunny slippers in front of him. His eyes heavily dragged upwards, finding you staring back at him with an unreadable expression and breaths coming out in ragged pants.

"Y/N!" Steven jumped up, surprised you actually came despite the way he--the way Marc--treated you. Your bloodshot eyes and the dried tears on your cheeks only made him feel even shittier, much more fucked up than any beating he suffers on a mission.

Because at least with those, he can be confident that he and the boys would win no matter the challenge. But with you?

He had everything to lose.

Your hair was a total mess; glasses slightly crooked and you were in your pyjamas, a matching set of a purple tank top and shorts with stars and moons. The only thing you had covering you was a purple silk robe, drawing it closer to your chilly body as your eyes narrowed at Steven.

You should be mad at him, and you were. Still, despite everything, you hopped on to the first bus you saw and scrambled the rest of the way here as fast as you could.

But now that you were here...what in Khonshu's name were you going to do? You could scream at him with all the pain you haven't had the pleasure to release like you did on the phone, but you'd just be wasting your breath. Then again, he wasn't lying. He really is here. And it confused you more than anything.

And seeing him like this, looking so...sad. Well, it made you sad. Him miserably clenching onto a heart shaped chocolate box, fat globs of tears cascading down his cheeks as he gawked at you with his pretty doe brown eyes.

You raised your hand, and Steven shut his eyes as he braced himself for the slap he very much deserved--only to be met with your soft palm, wiping away his tears tenderly.

"Explain to me, Steven."

♡•••🌙•••♡

The travel to Steven's apartment was spent in deafening silence, but it brought upon a strange sort of comfort. Unconsciously, you hugged Steven's black jacket that he had offered you earlier even closer to your much smaller frame. It soothed your nerves, being completely enveloped in his smell; fresh soap with a hint of musky cologne.

Once you reached his unit, you couldn't help but smile. It was just so...Steven. It was a bit messy, but a good kind of messy. You didn't really know how to describe it, but it warmed your heart especially when you saw a giant fish tank with only one goldfish.

"Cuppa tea?" Steven asked to which you shook your head, facing him fully.

"No. I'm a 'get over it' kinda girl so whatever your explanation is, I'd rather we just nip it in the bud." You huffed before you halted, biting your lip. "Oh, uh, sorry... Of course, if you wanna have tea, you can. It's your home, after all."

Steven laughed, his first real laugh that entire day. "Are you always this nice to blokes you should be mad at?"

"Only if they are really into Egyptology and have beautiful brown eyes and gorgeous curls." You rolled your eyes though you couldn't suppress your grin before you cleared your throat, getting a hold of your stupid giddy self. "Now, explain."

Steven's demeanour instantly shifted, serious now and quite uneasy. But he nodded and gestured towards the couch. You walked over and plopped down, Steven sitting next to you and keeping a respectful couple inches between the two of you.

He looked down at the ground, carefully considering his words before meeting your gaze solemnly. "Have you ever heard of dissociative identity disorder?" You nodded, previously learning about it in Psychology class and researching about it due to personal interest. "That's...what I have. I'm an alter within a system, and there are two others--Marc Spector and Jake Lockley."

"Am I correct to assume that when you asked me out...it wasn't actually you?"

Steven blinked, rather startled that you were taking this so well. "Yes. Jake was the one who asked you out."

"Was he also the one who didn't show up for the date?"

"No, that would be Marc." He grumbled. "And listen, I'm truly sorry about him. He's a right twit. It may not have been me who didn't show up, but that absolutely doesn't excuse the hurt it caused you. I am so, so sorry, Y/N."

Your brows furrowed, mulling over this new revelation. But...you believed him, especially when it explained all those times you secretly caught Steven muttering incoherently to himself or staring at his reflection and quietly reacting to something. You were curious about more, of course, but Steven didn't have any reason to lie about such a serious matter. And if he was lying, there were plenty of other things he could say. But the way he acted, and just the look in his eyes--he knew the risks of opening up to you, but he did it anyway.

You clasped his hands in yours, sighing. "I know I look calm right now, but trust me, I'm freaking the fuck out." You chuckled, and Steven felt safe enough to join you. "But... I trust you, Steven. And I believe you. Tell me one thing, though. Are you...into me? Like, at all?"

"Of course I am!" He replied in a flash, making you both pause before erupting into easy laughter. "Why would you even have to ask that, love?"

"It's just... Well, if Jake was the one who asked me out, it made me wonder if you really did like me." You mumbled, looking away.

Steven gently grasped your chin, tipping your face back towards him. "I've liked you since the day we met, Y/N. In your pink skirt and the cute little pigtails you had." He smiled, eyes so amorous and gleaming with sincerity. "Truth is, I've wanted to ask you out since forever. I'm just not as...forward as Jake is."

"And that's fine. But hey, we gotta thank him 'cause Lord knows I'd just spiral into a panic attack if I ever made the first move." You chuckled. But it gradually died down as Steven continued to stare at you, and you never thought you would ever have someone look at you the way Steven did; as if you were precious treasure hidden within a sacred tomb.

Slowly, ever so slowly, your body started moving of its own accord. You were leaning closer, closer, closer--a mere breath away from his lips before he piped up.

"I'm also Khonshu's Avatar!"

"Say what?"

"Um, well, you see--" He stammered, mentally slapping himself.

'Don't say anything, Steven.' Marc warned, and it took all of Marc's willpower not to seize control and actually slap Steven.

But it was too late now. Steven already said too much, but he wanted to be honest with you. Utterly so. And since you wanted to nip this in the bud, now was the best time more than anything.

"Erm... You've seen the news, yeah?" He didn't grant you the chance to respond as he rambled. "Masked vigilantes... Moon Knight and Mr. Knight? They're actually...Marc and I."

"Steven, this is--"

"I'll show you, Y/N. I'll summon the suit."

"Summon the soup? What is happening--"

Steven stood up, and a split second later there was a whirl of white. And sure enough, there was none other than one half of the mysterious heroes you've been seeing a lot on the news recently; his glowing white eyes locked with yours, crisp ivory suit and batons clutched tightly in his hands.

"Look, I know this is a lot to take in--"

"Handsome..." You blurted out before you can restrain yourself.

"Huh?" Steven blushed underneath the mask, and you were the same as your cheeks tinted crimson. Then you rose from the couch, closing the gap between you two and removing his mask.

His curls stuck every which way and his eyes were as wide as the full moon, making you giggle. "You're so handsome, Steven. And yeah, this is a fucking lot to take in. To be honest, a part of me is still wondering if this is all just a dream." You reached up, caressing the side of his face sweetly and smiling. "But...thank you. Thank you for being honest with me."

His batons dropped to the floor, trembling hands hesitantly settling on your hips. You noticed his Adam's apple bob as he looked down at you, tears once again glistening in his eyes. Happiness, relief, adoration--how can so many exhilarating emotions crash over him all at once?

"Can I be more honest?" He whispered, resting his forehead against yours as he gazed deeply into your eyes. "I...want you to stay with me."

Your cheeks hurt from how impossibly wide your smile has stretched, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling his nose with yours.

"I'm staying whether you like it or not, Steven with a V."

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hunterwritings · 10 months

Note

i saw ur post about smartass! and clingy!reader and that would literally be me ldfnakjf so i am now requesting hc's for this <33 ty ily

YESS FEED INTO MY OBSESSION

miguel with a smartass & clingy reader

summary: miguel seems to tolerate you much more than everyone else

warnings: none | wc: 799

notes: literally speed wrote this because I'm obsessed

tags: @heythere525

you were very comfortable around miguel, almost too comfortable

the other spider people saw the way you hung around him and were in shock when you wouldn't get an arm ripped off when pissing him off

but miguel loved you; everyone knew that

you will almost always burst into his space whenever he's trying to do work and ask him the most absurd questions just to annoy him

sometimes it's just to try and engage conversation with him because you knew he couldn't resist giving a witty comeback

"what's your stupid long name for the spider verse again?"

"It's not stupid, it's factually correct." He shakes his head

"Uh-huh, and it's super easy to say. Y'know, you should get little business cards that say, 'I work in the Spider Society to protect the Arachno Humanoid Poly Multiverse.' I'm sure villains' would get a real kick out a' that." You smirk, hanging upside down from a web attached to your foot.

"Y'know, intelligence is supposed to be a common trait among spider people, but I guess it missed you, huh?" He raises an eyebrow and smirks as he turns around to face you hanging upside down.

"So is humor & charm, but I guess they don't like you." You smiled, crossing your arms upside down.

"You're so stupid." He just groans before turning his back to you once again and returning to staring at his holographic screens.

you laugh before pulling yourself up and jumping to land sitting on top of his shoulders, thighs on each side of his head.

"Oh, you love me." You say with a smug as you reach both of your arms down to hold onto his head.

Miguel didn't move or ask you to get off of him, he just accepted it.

normally, you'd just lay your head against his back and wrap your arms around his body as you hug him closely while he does work; he doesn't mind it as long as you don't interfere with his work.

if you're tired or extra clingy, you'll jump up onto his back and wrap your legs around his body and wrap your arms around his neck.

you like to lay your head against his muscular back and hear his heartbeat, it can almost put you to sleep.

if you are tired or falling asleep while on his back, he'll reach his arms down to hold your legs from falling onto the ground

you love talking to miguel, even if most of the time he won't talk back

even though this man doesn't have spider sense, he knows when something is wrong with you

on days when you are upset or something happened, there will be no snarky comment from you or messing with miguel

you just walk in and jump up onto his back and squeeze him tight

when he notices it's you and you're quiet, he already knows something is wrong and is ready to stop everything he's doing to find out what

he hates it whenever you get injured on missions and you continue to make stupid jokes

You groaned out in pain from the metal that pierced your side. "Heh, that armored suit is looking real good right now." You hissed in pain.

Miguel kneeled down next to you and applied pressure to the gauge in your abdomen

"Hey Miguel, I guess it's still better than your suit huh? One wrong malfunction to your suit and you're naked." You laughed.

"Oh my god, you are the stupidest person I know." Miguel shakes his head.

"Ouch, that's hurts more than the wound." You fake being upset and then smirk at him.

"You're literally bleeding out!" Miguel snaps, whispering Spanish curse words under his breath.

Miguel would be lying if he said he didn't like your company

He definitely doesn't watch the tracker on your watch almost everywhere you go if you are even one minute late

let's be honest, miguel is touch starved

once he sees how much of a touchy person you are after getting comfortable with him, he's not a fan of it

at first, he was one to push you away from him and hate the idea of physical affection towards him

it wasn't until one day when you were help fix him up from after a rough fight and you had your hands holding his head in place. Your hand lied on his cheek and he never realized how nice it felt for someone to hold his face so softly. It was the first time you felt him lean into your touch.

Now he he let's you do almost anything you want to him, even with spider people around.

sometimes, he'll even initiate affection when he really needs and you are more than happy to give it to him

#— hunterwritings #hunterwritings #atsv #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel x you #spiderman 2099 #spider verse #across the spider verse #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n

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n4rval · 4 months

Note

hi I just wanted to say your tags on the gaster poll posts are so correct yessss (always enjoy your takes just in general). thank you for being one of the seemingly very few people out there who also believes there's no way the timeline works for gaster and alphys to have been colleagues. however, him haunting her benevolently is something I'm 1000% here for <3 (also I hope your finals went well and you get to have a nice relaxing break!)

HII HELLO HI im glad you like them!!! knowing you read these motivates me to keep being Absolutely Very Normal About Him on the internet

personally it's less of a believing thing and more of a come on it's written right there thing, but since we're here.

behold! dingus timeline. (and the hottest of takes with freshly baked personal headcanons otherwise what am i doing)

Not a skeleton?

Isn't 201X too early?

Indeed, not a skeleton, but rather, some guy. Something about how monster's bodies are manifestations of their SOUL, and him oddly resembling a strange looking man does well to represent his insatiable curiosity and love for creating. (things humans are known for in a better light)

On the other hand, you will be pleased with how fascinated he is by "FLESHLINGS AND THEIR CALCIUM DEPOSITS".

And then they fucking died.

201X is the year the first human fell into the underground, and shortly after, the royal family has moved to New Home. This means some decent exploration of the cavern has already been made. Scientists could very well already have been working on optimizing life underground, with special attention to the large and ever growing new capital.

My idea? As this idiot has been aiding exploration with his antics, Gerson was the one to appoint him to Asgore. Something about his talent with turning garbage into non-garbage. With a little patience and getting familiar with his odd manerisms, it was not too long until he got to be the prince's weird godfather.

Cracking already?

And everyone was devastated, mainly the close family. Not only that, but amidst your mourning, the one couple responsible for your unrealistically high standards for romance just divorced. Is love even real anymore. You eat ants with your cereal and your work consists mainly of convenience improvements and absolutely nothing groundbreaking. What's the point of breaking that pesky barrier again? Child murder? Come on.

That's the Wingdings PATIENCE and BRAVERY encountered in their adventure. Dear god, you're lame. Aren't you some kind of genius? Get yourself together! And together he got his self, now, he has children to look after. Surely there must be some other way. He must stop coming up with new flavours for chips and find some other way.

... Dear god, the King is going to kill them.

BONES and DT

Listen. He's old. You got your wrinkles, he's got his cracking. What? You meant to point out some major event of injury must have been responsible for his current state of deformity? Well, he's old AND heartbroken. That's a direct blow to the SOUL, okay.

Jokes aside (kind of), doing any lasting damage to a monster is quite difficult given their magic forms can easily be healed through, well, magic. They can, however, eventually "fall" (wink wink) and dust away with age - which cannot, however, be fixed with magic.

With a little determination however ...

Something about the anomaly.

He found it, the other way. It was the bones all along, the so needed sustainance for channelling such a high concentration of that power. Well, not necessarily, but a boney structure will endure much more and last much longer than a meaty one. Also, it looks so cool.

You know this guy, he gets first dibs on any and all dubious substances that might or might not deal the last hit to the nail on his coffin dust urn(?). And when it all works out (dubious), he might as well play a little. What kind of things can he make? With the material properties of these calcified remains infused with his own magic, animated with determination.

Some new, powerful magic tricks?

A new kind of monster, maybe?

DARK, DARKER, YET DARKER.

There is a lot of interesting things one can do with isolated DT, aside from making bones rattle with life - for example, peeking onto the complex layers and ramifications of what composes reality. This is when the already kooky scientist grows a little mad; manic, if you will. This is the Wingdings sans was familiar with.

Time travel this, resets that, blah blah blah alpha timeline, the anomaly, the angel, the anomaly again, all things that only make sense to him and his illegible mess on the black board. The lack of detail is killing him, he needs to know what it is - what it does, why it does, how it does. Not to stop it, no, there is no stopping it.

Rather, an overwhelming need to understand it.

He falls somewhere in recent history, details of it left ambiguous. The shattering, combined with the amount of DT running in his magical... mathematical physiology, rendered all of his self but an espectator of his reality; confined to the code and unable to do anything but watch, powerless before the nature of his very being, like a corrupted program.

It is all rather frustrating, besides the burden that is coming to terms with simply not existing anymore, watching was pretty much all this research was and now ever will be. That is, until something interacts with him. It is different from the tragic prince, whom no matter how much DT he's accumulated, he is just as confined to this world's rules as other elements. Not this one, not the force from beyond. Not "YOU".

He makes it a mission to reach out, despite the limits of the code, to give away bits and pieces of him and see if you bite. But not too much, he's seen how you tend to exhaust a world for knowledge, something he can oddly sympathize with. I mean, what will you do once you find everything? One cannot fully know a person.

Maybe in another world, prophetized by a cute, little white dog. A much better world for everyone, without so much as war or disease, his greatest creation yet. And he could invite you to it, to experience bewilderment, to be reminded of wonder. If it could even help you, wherever you are, to deem your own world worth of partaking ... then the experiment was a success.

#artwork #inbox #freakbullet #gaster #wd gaster #undertale #deltarune #character design is my passion #not so much graphic design i suck at this #WIPES SWEAT #happy new year!! i've been writing this since christmas!!!!!#sorry if you have to squint at my handwriting its a big canvas #just zoom in #also sorry if my writing lacks extensive details if you were looking for any #im one for visual narrative #so i tried my best to convey everything in the simplest structure i could #and cut short a lot of specifics that are not relevant for a timeline dissection #things like complex feelings and worldbuilding related shenanigans #i will definitely cover these in the future perhaps in the form of comics #this just isnt the place #this is all you need to get a grasp on the character :pray:#there is a lot of proportion inconsistencies on post tragedy old man dont point them out #its just that i've redrawn him like thrice and i was like. you know what? it doesnt have to be perfect #he'll make a cameo when i post fallen humans art

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jinnie-ret · 7 months

Note

hii, its the anon who asked about lgbtq+ readers.

what i had in mind was a nonbinary 9th member who uses they/them pronouns and interviewers and talk how hosts etc keep misgendering them and using the wrong pronouns, saying how theyre the only female member. the boys are the one to keep adamantly correcting them, no matter how many times they have to do it. the reader would be annoyed at the interviewers but glad the boys had their back, maybe the boys reassuring them at the end.

obviously only write it if you feel comfortable, thank you for answering my original ask!! your writing is great and a big comfort, i honestly think youd be great at writing it but this is your blog and only write what you feel comfy writing <333

who I am

stray kids x ninth member non-binary!reader (platonic)

genre: angst, fluff

content warnings: ignorant interviewer, misgendering

word count: 1.4k

summary: the boys support y/n for who they are, and show them that they truly have their back when a podcast goes wrong.

Thank you so much! Ok! I finally wrote it! I hope that this brings you great comfort like my other fics do too! And please give me feedback that this was written okay because I would never want to misrepresent anyone or their feelings in my writing.

As always, like, reblog if you enjoyed, and my asks are open for any requests you may have. And let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

"Welcome back to the podcast! Today we have a special guest, or guests, should I say, Stray Kids! Everyone give it up for Stray Kids!" the interviewer, Oscar, introduces us, the camera panning to us all sat in a cosy studio setting. We were currently in LA promoting our new album.

"Thank you inviting us!" Bang Chan says bashfully. We all knew of the podcast, well, us English speakers did, and we were so excited to be on the show.

"So, let's get right into it, you're here to talk about your new album, right?" Oscar smiles, looking down at his notes before asking us the question.

"Yeah, we've just released our new album 5STAR, and we hope that our fans enjoy it, and, yeah!" Felix begins to explain, smiling as he trails off, not knowing what else to add on. You give him a rub on the shoulder, letting him know that he was doing a good job. That's what you loved about being in Stray Kids, no matter who you were, you had each other's backs.

"It really is so cool to have you all here, and may I say, this really is a unique bunch of members you have here," Oscar waves his hands as he explains.

"Well, we like to think that we all bring something different to the table haha," you laugh along politely.

"Well, that's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about, Y/N," Oscar turns his body towards you slightly.

The others go 'ohhh', making you blush slightly.

"You want to ask me?" you brush your hair back, your newly cut black mullet, which went down a treat with stays.

"Yes, the reason I say you're in quite a unique situation, is because, well, it's so rare to see 8 guys and a girl in one group together!" Oscar smiles.

Oh.

Your smile dropped.

Maybe you had gotten your hopes up, thinking he'd be talking about your input on the fashion of the group, considering it was quite well known, especially with the group's growing popularity that you created many of the pieces that yourself and the boys would wear.

But no. Somehow you didn't think that this topic would be brought up once again.

"Stray Kids is family, no matter what," Hyunjin spoke up, communicating as best he could in English that gender didn't matter.

The boys could sense your discomfort at Oscar blatantly calling you a girl. Surely he's done enough research that he knows you identify differently?

Even the less confident English speakers, Lee Know and Jeongin seemed to catch on what was happening.

"And what an interesting family you are indeed," Oscar didn't notice your unease or the slightly more defensive stances that the boys acquired from their seats.

"I also wanted to comment that I think Y/N is my bias, you guys!"

Seeming to think there was a more lighter mood in the room, Y/N themself to relax a bit and laugh along.

"Come on boys, don't be jealous, I just think she's got this special quality about her," Oscar continued, thinking the frowns on your members' faces were playfully jealous of his comment.

"They are very special to us, we feel lucky to have them in our group," Han spoke up, subtlely linking his pinkie with yours as a form of comfort. The boys knew that such situations like this still hurt you, because of how you struggled to understand why you felt different and finally knew why, it was frustrating when other people, who were clearly in a position to do some research, didn't know.

Of course you'd give the benefit of the doubt, maybe he didn't know and he might be apologetic, in which case it would all smooth over.

But it wasn't in this case.

"Actually, Oscar, Y/N is non-binary," Chan began, looking towards you to see if you wanted to continue.

"Yes, I use they/them pronouns and don't identify as either male or female, I'm just, me," you shrug it off and say casually, because that's how you felt it should be. It wasn't a big deal,.it was just who you are.

"Oh wow, that's quite interesting, so you don't look at it like she's your younger sister? Or you don't think that as a boyband you have a disadvantage having a female member?" Oscar furrowed his brows.

"We don't feel the need to recognise our member by a gender," Seungmin grabbed the mic provided by the studio and calmly spoke into it, it almost fully calmed you down, his soft voice as he spoke in English filling the room.

"It doesn't matter. We are a group. Just a group of people who like making music and entertaining our stays, and that's how they like it, so..." Felix's knee bobbed up and down, and you couldn't tell if the ray of sunshine was slowly turning into a thundercloud or if he was nervous to speak his mind. You were thankful either way.

"Right... I mean, it's funny, it must be weird, like having her as a novelty to the group, almost?" Oscar said genuinely, like he didn't see an issue in how he was conducting himself.

"They are best," Jeongin threw a cheeky smile your way, making the weight on your shoulders feel just a little bit lighter.

"We're a unit. A team. I mean, it's funny, we don't feel the need to separate ourselves based on gender," Chan passive aggressively said, using the man's previous words to show he would not take anymore ignorance to how his member was being treated.

"Look, I don't expect people to understand straight away, but I can appreciate them looking at me not just for what I believe is a socially constructed view, one that I don't align with, but for my talent," you slowly explained, nerves filling your body as you hoped the way that you had explained yourself had made sense and would get a message across to the interviewer.

"See, that's something I think would bring even more attention to your success! Y/N do you think that creating this facade has brought you more fans?" Oscar questioned, his kind intentions slipping away.

"Excuse me?" you were taken aback. Facade? He thought that you were pretending?

"Hyung? We can go now? Yeah, ok, great. We'll be leaving now, thank you for your time, I think," Chan sarcastically smiled at Oscar after getting the green light from their manager that they could leave.

"So, that wraps up our interview with Stray Kids today..."

You sighed as you all got into the van, leaving the studio all together. You sat in the back with Lee Know and Changbin.

"What did he say at the end?" Lee Know questioned, rubbing your knee soothingly.

"That I'm a fake," you scrunch your face, looking at the ceiling of the car to trap your tears and avoid them from escaping.

"He has no idea what he's talking about, Y/Nnie," Changbin turned to you as best he could at the back of the van.

"I just wish I could feel normal, but sometimes it's things like this that just alienate me from everyone else, you know?" you sigh, tapping your leg with your fingers to distract yourself.

"You're far from an alien, Y/N. We don't care about what other people say, you're a part of us. Chan hyung was right, we're a unit, and we'll stay as one forever," Hyunjin reassured you.

"Plus, if anyone is an alien, it's Hannie," Seungmin savagely chuckled.

"I'M AN ALIEN ON THIS EARTH!!!" Han took that as his cue to sing his song loudly, causing you to groan and cover your ears.

"Someone help him return to his home planet," you giggled, making the other boys laugh along with you.

"Seriously though, we've got you, hm? Stupid interviewers like that have no respect..." Jeongin shook his head, feeling irritated.

"He was nice at the start..." you trailed off, thinking about Oscar's bright personality which was for sure what brought in viewers and listeners of the podcast.

"But then he showed his true colours, he was rude, you didn't deserve the disrespect, end of," Chan said from the front of the car, making his voice a little louder than normal so everyone could hear.

"Thanks, Channie," you smiled, the two boys in the back of the car with you letting you relax against them as the stress seemed to leave your body.

They had your back, always.

tagged: @skz-streamer @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @kiraisastay

#skz #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz fluff #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fic #stray kids imagines #non binary reader #skz x non binary reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz x oc #stray kids x non binary reader

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cerezzzita · 7 months

Note

Hi, i saw you have your request open so here i go, requesting some hcs for Dante, Vergil and Trish having a short sweet-toothed s/o who also loves to bake.

notes: heeey there, anon! In advance sorry for the waiting, it took long enough but at least here we are! I hope you like it, because I surely did loved writing these headcanons, and with Trish being included? Better than ever!

Enjoy the reading and thanks for requesting! <3

⠀🍓 ˖ . ᵎᵎ Dante, Vergil & Trish with a short sweet-toothed S/O

♡ tags: gender-neutral reader, no use of pronouns (you/yours only), no description of reader's appearance, short!reader, use of petnames, three devils being soft af, Vergil and Trish might have been sorta ooc pardon in advance.

ⓘ gif's not mine!!

Dante

Perfect match, to be honest.

Calls you "shortcake" or "shortie" most of the time and if you're annoyed by that… he'll keep doing it, sorry. He loves you enough to annoy you as well.

Being as sweet-toothed as he is, no wonder he'll ask you constantly to make some desserts with strawberries or red fruits in general such as raspberries or cherries.

And please don't let Dante get one inch near the kitchen, this man will eat as many of the berries plus he's catastrophic at cooking.

At least let him add some of the ingredients and mix them together here and there, he'll be satisfied and happy enough.

He'll eat the batter when you're not looking, by the way.

Still on the ingredients topic, doesn't this bitch (affectionately) loves when you ask him for help to reach something you can't? He's all smugly smirks, towering you with that huge figure of his and in the best of the cases, lifting you so you can reach it by yourself.

Dante's personal favorite dessert made by you became The Devil's Cake, but instead of being fulfilled of chocolate only, there's lots and lots of strawberry jam and fresh strawberries on top of it.

Late night munchies are a must! You two can and will be watching whatever series or movies while cuddling and devouring almost all of a whole damn bakery because Dante has a black hole instead of a regular stomach.

Saw a recipe for dessert pizza once, got obsessed with it, asked you to make it, you made it, he's even more in love with you.

"Babe, you're a sweetheartie. A candy angel, I love you so much," said Dante, mouth full of sweet pizza and eyes full of tears of joy and passion.

ⓘ gif's not mine!!

Vergil

Vergil strikes me as a cinnamon roll enjoyer. That's it, that's the post.

But really, I don't think he has a sweet-tooth or enjoys sugary foods that much. He likes it, sure, but at moderate bits.

Unlike Dante, he does not make fun of your height… Yet he finds it quite endearing.

Calls you "little bird". Let me have him be affectionate and lovely for a sec, okay?

Vergil also gets worried by the amount of sugar you consume.

"You'll get plenty of cavities if you keep eating desserts at that level."

He helps you with your recipes too. I'm kinda sure that Vergil knows a thing or two in the cooking field, correct me if I'm wrong (I am wrong).

As previously said, he likes more, hm, refined flavors, such as cinnamon and vanilla and if you're baking cinnamon rolls, count him on it!

Don't ask Vergil to chop the ingredients unless you want him to put on a show about it.

If you like drinking tea, you better prepare a bunch of sweet treats because you're having regular, calm silent tea evenings ft. Vergil and his poetry book.

ⓘ gif's not mine!!

Trish

Oh my, what can I say about Trish?

She's not a sugary-sweet person. Instead, she's mostly on sour candies and neutral fruits field.

With that being said, I hope you're ready to constantly bake lemon pies and banana cakes.

Trish does not know how to cook for her dear life, she prefers watching you instead and maybe teasing you along with it.

"Trish, I could use a little hand." "Pardon me if I can't help but think you're all cute on your own, sugar."

Speaking of teasing, this devil surely knows how to make you fluster with her little comments about your height, but of course, always keeping it comfortable enough to not get you mad or sad.

"Need some help there, honeypie?" "My, if you ever get trouble reaching that shelf, you need to wear some of my heels."

And although Trish is not your sous chef, she is certainly your personal tasting critic, which is an advantage mostly to her.

"So, what do you think?" "Hm, I liked the caramel on top of the fruit, and it's sour just in the way I love. It's a ten out of ten, honey."

Brought you some silly clothes like sweaters and shirts with some candy motif and oh, sure, fruity flavored lip gloss.

Anything for her honeybun~

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 1 month

Text

03/15/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Cast & Crew; Samba; Guz; Lube As A Crew; GLAAD Awards; Fan Spotlight; Ari Azure's Renew As A Crew (Act Of Grace); Big Gay Energy Podcast; Cast Cards; SchadenFreude; Watch Parties; In Soup Now; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika;

== Cast & Crew Sightings ==

== Samba Schutte BTS ==

Samba was kind enough to grace us with more BTS today. Some pictures and a lot of videos!

CW: Fake Blood and Gore

Video 1: Vico Freaking out over the outfittings

Video 2: Cursed Ship On Deck

Video 3: Revenge Crew Jumping On Deck from Back

Video 4: Bloody

Video 5: Geo-met-ery

Video 6: More On Deck

== Guz Khan ==

Guz Khan's got some upcoming shows! If you're in NYC or LA, feel free to check him out this April! Tickets

== Final Lube As A Crew ==

It was a fun and sad day with our crewmates over at @astroglideofficial. The Social Media conductor was having a lovely time, but obviously was bittersweet with it ending. Here's some highlights from the watch party. To see more visit their twitter. If I get some time this weekend i'll try to put all the lube as a crew stuff together on the repo so you can see it all, just not gonna get to it tonight. I tried to get the timeline in order.. if not, apologies!

== GLAADforOFMD==

So in case it comes up.. there was some drama with some other fandoms regarding GLAAD today on Twitter. The TLDR; version is, some tweets went out regarding how disappointed we were about Ted Lasso winning out over Our Flag Means Death for Outstanding Comedy Series. Somehow, Yellowjackets fandom, who won a different category Outstanding Drama Series somehow got the idea that OFMD fans were complaining about Yellowjackets winning. It was corrected multiple times by multiple people but they kept coming. So yeah, twitter being twitter, not a great time. Sending love to @koneko_army and any other crewmates who had to deal with it.

If you wanna see the GlaadWinners visit The Hollywood Reporter

If you really wanna see the whole thread, you can visit Koneko's Twitter but honestly I don't recommend it, I wasn't even part of it and it stresses me out reading it.

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Ari Azure's Renew As A Crew =

Ari Azure's Renew As A Crew (Act of Grace) song came out today!

Tumblr Post

= Big Gay Energy Podcast =

New Big Gay Energy Podcast dropped!

youtube

= Cast Cards =

Our crewmate @melvisik has spotlighted one of our dearest friends Dominic Burgess this time! Starting to round out the collection! Thanks hon!

== Schaden Freude ==

Still trending downward! Great job fam!

== Watch Parties ==

Mar 17th: The Boat That Rocked AKA Pirate Radio Watch Party

7:30 pm GMT / 3:30 pm EST / 1:30 pm CST

Watch Party Hashtags:

PirateRadio

AdoptOurCrew

SaveOFMD

OurFlagMeansWatchAlong

Mar 18 - Mar 22: Wrecked Season 3

Season 3 watch from March 18th to March 22nd.

Times will be 10pm GMT / 5pm EST / 4pm CST / 2pm PST. Watch two episodes per day. Episodes are 21-22 minutes each. Use the following Saturday for the tags/watch if interested but not able to make this time.

Hashtags:

#WreckedPirates

#SaveOFMD

#RhysDarbyFaction

== In Soup Now ==

In Soup Now is back! Post your soups/stews/recipes with!

#InSoupNow

#SaveOFMD

#LongLiveOFMD

== Love Notes ==

Hey there lovelies. Another week has passed. I really hope it wasn't too hard on you-- and if you're off to work tomorrow too, that you get some semblance of rest soon. Sometimes it feels like we're too small to make a difference, or we don't know enough, or we're not pretty enough, or we're not strong enough. Or we're not enough of something, whatever it happens to be. But you know what? You do plenty. You are plenty. You are plenty beautiful, and plenty strong, and plenty full of life, and plenty knowledgeable, and you make plenty of a difference. You make a difference every day, in our lives, and the lives around you. I hope you get some rest and tomorrow you get to see even a glimpse of awesome you truly are. Take care lovelies <3

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Tonight's theme is DRINKIES!

Darby Gif Courtesy of @fandomsmeantheworldtome

Taika Gif Courtesy of @caribbean1989

#daily ofmd recap #daily ofmd recaps #ofmd daily recap #ofmd daily recaps #ofmd #our flag means death #rhys darby #taika waititi #samba schutte #guz khan #big gay energy podcast #Ari Azure #Youtube

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luvhughes43 · 1 year

Text

your boy can't read ! | trevor zegras x author!reader

luvhughes43 masterlist🌷

ynoffical

Liked by trevorzegras, jackbenedwards, and others

ynofficial my weekend☕️📖💐

load more comments

stephbohrer ❤️❤️

fan01 writing your next book right?😁

fan02 we want something happy this time !

fan01 no.

jackbenedwards lets go book shopping once you're back in nyc

ynoffical of course! ill text u💗

trevorzegras yaba daba doo☕️

liked by ynoffical

fan03 whatever the hell that means

trevorzegras

Liked by ynofficial, jamie.drysdale, and others

trevorzegras coolest place in the world⚡️

load more comments

_quinnhughes who wrote your caption? why does it actually make sense for once

trevorzegras i take offence to that.

fan04 the fact that the caption is so simple and quinns saying that😭😭

fan05 i'm going to be honest i never have any idea what trev is talking about liked by ynoffical

jackhughes interesting... 🤔

jamie.drysdale what happened to cereal being your ideal meal?

trevorzegras i'm a changed man🫡

ynoffical cute house!

liked by trevorzegras

ynfan now hold on...🧐

ynoffical

liked by jackhughes, trevorzegras, and others

ynoffical had some time off🌞🎨

load more comments

fan05 WHO IS THAT???

fan06 why are a bunch of nhl players liking..🧐

jackhughes im still so confused about this whole thing

ynofficial confused ? were in love😁🙏💗

jackhughes you know he can't read right?

ynofficial i know😞💔

trevorzegras you know i was just thinking and i think your bf is an excellent reader... like hes probably so good its shocking

ynoffical no i was actually just thinking that he can't

fan07 STAY FOCUSED ON THE BOOK QUEENIE DON'T LET THE BOYS DISTRACT U💪🔥‼️

trevorzegras

liked by ynoffical, masonmctavish23, and others

trevorzegras reading very seriously.

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jackhughes no i dont think you are

liked by ynoffical

trevorzegras WTF STOP??

ynoffical happy to see you're finally learning how to read❤️

trevorzegras what if this was my last straw?

fan08 you're the lea michelle of hockey babes its okay! not everybody has to know how to read❤️

anaheimducks so proud of our Z🧡

hockeyfan: nawww even his team is setting him up😭

oldman get ur ass back on the ice you do NOT need to be reading.

ynoffical

liked by trevorzegras, uncarley, and others

ynoffical totally normal weekly update

tagged trevorzegras

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fan09 HOLD ON????

trevorzegras 🤔🤔

jackhughes the last slide says: 👁❤️🫵 (I love Trevor Zegras) hope this helps❤️ liked by ynoffical

trevorzegras 😐

stepbroher you're really living out the hockey romance fantasy wow

ynoffical waiting for u to release your own hockey book🙏

fan10 does this mean the next book is a romance?😁

ynoffical 🤭🤭

trevorzegras i love you too

ynoffical i love u so much its crazy

trevorzegras i love you so much i read a book

jackhughes correction: he learnt how to read

trevorzegras STOP GO AWAY!

trevorzegras

liked by ynoffical, jackhughes, and others

trevorzegras you make it so easy to love 🧡🧡

tagged ynoffical

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ynoffical 💗💗

liked by trevorzegras

jackhughes so glad ynoffical can speak emojis! otherwise you guys wouldn't be able to text each other

trevorzegras jackhughes you make me sick.

fan11 z baby look at me this isn't you...

colecaufield u guys look great💤

jamie.drysdale i'm actually surprised and i've known this whole time

masonmctavish23 i didn't think he had it in him

fan12 NOOOO THIS CANT BE HAPPPENING TO ME😭🙏

ynoffical just posted a story!

caption: lover boy🫂🤍 (aka the love of my life)

jackhughes replied: if only trevvy could read that😪❤️

trevorzegras replied: calling u in 5 🧡🧡 love you

#trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #jamie drysdale x reader #mason mctavish x reader #cole caufield x reader #insta edit #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl blurb

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kiwisbell · 8 months

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The Hitman's Guide to Getting the Girl: Chapter 1 [dave york x f!reader]

It's just another job, until Dave York decides to kidnap an enemy’s wiseass daughter. It’s just another job, until he falls in love.

series masterlist

status: complete

chapter 1 summary: Underestimating the power of a good omelette.

pairing: dave york x f!reader

rating: 18+ (mdni)

tags and warnings for entire fic: kidnapping, murder, violence, the world being horrible to women, reader having a very terrible sense of self-preservation, unprotected piv, oral sex (m and f receiving), dave york finding his second calling as a pussy-eating god, pining, possessive sex, jealousy, daddy issues, (stockholm syndrome?), dirty talk, actually filthy talk, hitmen and politicians, revenge, scary man with a soft spot for his woman, philosophical foreplay, tramp stamp worship (you'll see), a little sprinkle of breeding kink if you look hard enough, obsessive behaviour, anal fingering, anal sex, implied age gap, light dom/sub vibes, light bondage

tags and warnings for this chapter: kidnapping, violence, pretentious allusions, breaking and entering, self-reflection

word count: ~ 5k

this will be the first fic i've ever cross-posted to tumblr (yay me!); this means, however, that i am still learning and will likely make some silly mistakes. nonetheless, i have to apologise for my long hibernation and hope that bringing y'all a new miniseries will initiate my journey to forgiveness. please let me know what you think so far! chapter 2 will be posted soon.

PREFACE

“‘If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive, lo, here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword; which if thou please to hide in this true breast, and let the soul forth that adoreth thee, I lay it naked to the deadly stroke, and humbly beg the death upon my knee.’” — Richard III, I.II

chapter 1: when i first saw you, the end was soon

JANUARY

Dave York likes a clean job.

The interior of the home presents a good start. He enters through the garage door, briefly sweeping the Range Rover’s interior for any surprises. Finding none, he gives the signal to Resnik, who moves around to the front door. He will maintain a holding position until Dave radios his all-clear. There’s only one objective tonight.

It’s hardly your average suburb. The house is a goddamn mansion, with a winding driveway and no neighbours for four miles. It’s nighttime, dead silent, and nobody ever drives up here unless they’ve taken a wrong turn, but Dave is careful. He wore all black from his boots to his head, which was shrouded by a black hat. He brought one vehicle, three men, one weapon each. He does not intend to start a fight.

Well, not yet.

The foyer is clear, too. Two coats are hung up on the iron hooks: a sky-blue peacoat and a leather jacket. They look like they both belong to a woman. So do the shoes, which vary from a pair of cosy slippers to multiple sets of high heels (the physics of which he couldn’t hope to comprehend if he tried). It’s dark here, but a lone light illuminates the hallway ahead, shining from a room to the left. The kitchen, if his blueprints were correct.

His finger feathers near the trigger of his .45 Auto, his back up against the adjacent wall as he creeps toward the source of the light. Kovac’s voice crackles in his earpiece (“Clear upstairs”) as Dave takes a slow, deep breath and crosses the threshold into the kitchen, his firearm sweeping every corner before his eyes can.

The small hanging lights are on above the generous island, and a woman tends to a steaming cup of coffee behind it.

You look up and smile politely at Dave. “Hi.”

He had dealt with plenty of curveballs in his life. Avoiding IEDs, taking out a target from half a mile out, all the bullshit that came with building a business. Dave York knows how to take the shit and roll with it.

But you're… smiling.

Dave’s lips part but no sound comes out. You continue, stirring sugar into your coffee. “You don’t need to use that gun, do you?”

He licks his bottom lip and continues to stare.

Your smile turns sheepish. “I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

Stunned, Dave actually lowers the weapon a fraction.

You don’t hold yourself like you’re paralysed by fear. There is no tension in your shoulders; you look wholly at ease in your own home, your hands warmed by the cup of coffee on its little pink coaster. Dave expected terror, pleading, scratching and kicking and screaming.

“Boss? You clear?” comes Resnik’s voice in his ear.

“Do you mind if I finish my coffee?” you ask, indicating that your mug is still half-full.

Dave cannot physically produce the noises necessary for speech. He finds himself inclining his head in a vague nod, allowing you to lift the coffee cup to your mouth and purse your lips as you blow the steam away. It curls toward Dave and evaporates like a silvery ghost.

What kind of captive goes willingly to their own prison?

One who knows their bed is made.

“Hold,” he finally says to his team. “Apprehending target.”

“Ask them if they’d like a coffee before they go,” you offer. “I’ve got plenty to go around.”

He cannot bring himself to repeat those words to his men. He’s having enough trouble wrapping his head around you as it is.

You introduce yourself, and Dave assesses you as he shifts around the island. Sweeping his gaze from your slippered feet up to your slip of a nightgown, he finds nothing of note save for a pretty woman who knows she’s about to be taken forcibly from her home. A woman who’s seemingly prepared so well for this exact situation that she made a coffee at midnight and prepared some for her uninvited guests, too.

For the first time in his entire illicit career, Dave does not know what to think, do, or say.

“I’m sorry if I’ve made this difficult,” you tell him. “Do they usually struggle?”

Dave swallows thickly and finds his mouth completely dry. “Uh. Yeah.”

You smile indulgently, and it knocks his insides askew. “I can scream if you want.”

Dave winces. “No, that’s—that’s not necessary.”

“Well. You should probably frisk me. They usually frisk first.” You shrug one shoulder. “I don’t have a weapon on me, but if it makes you feel more comfortable…”

He’s holding a weapon in his hands and he’s never felt more disarmed.

They usually frisk first.

Who are they?

Dave frowns. “This has happened before?”

You wave a dismissive hand. “My father has made a lot of people angry.”

He feels the tension in his jaw when his teeth begin to ache from grinding them together. “Your father—”

“Let me guess. Screwed you over on a business deal.” You pin Dave with a powerful look, one whose meaning he cannot place. “Last I heard, he was in Zurich. You may be waiting a while if you intend to keep me until he returns. He’s nowhere as efficient as you seem to be.”

A deliberate choice of words, equal parts compliment and warning. Code for, If you want to travel anywhere in the next little while, you’ll have to take your little hostage with you.

Code for, I’m going to be more trouble than I’m worth.

He could have told you that the second he walked into the kitchen.

Dave moves behind you and watches you lift your arms before he can ask. The slight movement sends a waft of sweet, dark vanilla perfume toward him. He inhales, fascinated by the bombardment of sensations as he puts his hands on your body. The frisking is clinical—left arm, right arm, waist, hips, thighs, Jesus Christ— and ultimately fruitless. But your hair is soft and smells freshly of shampoo, your ears glisten with expensive diamonds, and your eyes glimmer with new colours he could not see from afar. You’re a picture of wealth and beauty and he’s entranced by the straightness of your spine, the incisive look in your eye.

You turn your head slightly to look at him, and Dave surprises himself when he maintains eye contact. “What’s your name?” you ask, your voice soft. He feels a cool puff of air brush his cheek when you speak.

His hands are still on your waist. As if struck by lightning, Dave jolts away. You don’t evade his eye, sipping the rest of your coffee. It’s so far beyond being in his best interests to give you his name, especially since he plans to keep you alive.

“Dave,” he says, fucking his best interests right in the ass.

You hum in appraisal. He feels more like the prospective captive with the way you look at him. “Pleasure to meet you, Dave. I’m finished with my coffee if you want to go now.”

“Okay,” he says, his voice gravelly.

“Where are you taking me?”

“My house,” he says shortly. “I’m not giving you the address, so don't ask.”

“I wouldn’t ask for your address. I would dig it out.”

He has no fucking doubt.

“Won't your family be suspicious of a bound woman locked up in your home?”

“I don’t have a family. No one will see you.”

He realises his mistake the instant he says it. “No more digging. No more questions.”

“Will you blindfold me?”

“Yes.”

“Am I allowed to pack a bag?”

“We’ll come back for your things another time. I’ve stayed here too long already.”

“I don't know if you’ve noticed, Dave, but there isn't another soul for miles.”

“People could always be following.”

Your face sets in a ponderous frown. “You're a paranoid man. Paranoid and proactive. Those are dangerous together, you know.”

“You aren't my therapist,” says Dave. “And I told you not to ask questions.”

He's never considered it. Taking preventative measures has always availed him, but what happens when he decides to take those measures against someone who never planned to take action? He's never taken an innocent life, but who gets to decide who’s innocent, anyway?

Your vanilla perfume and your expensive pyjamas and your blinding smile telegraph wealthy naïveté, but as far as Dave is concerned, you're proving to be lethal.

“I’m not asking questions,” you say nonchalantly. He’s irritated by how little your talking annoys him. He should be itching to shut you up himself. Maybe it's the tired, soft drawl of your voice. Different from the gruff male sounds he's used to hearing every day at work. “I’m making observations. While I have time.”

“Time for what?” Now who's the one asking questions?

Your mouth twists. “Making observations.”

He vaguely shakes his head. “Why won’t you fight me?”

“Why won’t you?”

Dave blinks.

Your perfect posture makes him feel like he’s being surveyed. “You didn’t walk in here with the intention to shoot me. Your finger wasn’t on the trigger. And because you have no reason to kill me, I have no reason to fight. I certainly can’t overpower you when I’m weaponless and you have backup. This is only a home. I’ll come back to it someday.”

It feels like fire licking against water. Relentless optimism meets unwavering cynicism. A pretty face and sharp tongue meet a man willing to do anything for a heap of cash. “Why won’t you fight me, Dave?” you ask him again. “It looks to me like you’d rather do anything than force me into the backseat of your car.”

“It’s a job,” he says plainly.

“Kidnapping me, or pissing off my father?”

“You’re insurance.”

“Have you ever heard of the myth of Sisyphus, Dave?”

He grunts, finally tearing his gaze away from you. He already regrets giving you his name.

You take his silence as assent. “And how is your relationship with your parents?”

“Okay. No more talking,” Dave snaps. He tucks his gun into his waistband and demands, with less bite than he intends, “Hands.”

You comply easily, hold your wrists together in front of you. You remain there as Dave directs his attention to his team. “Kovac, meet me in the kitchen. Target apprehended.”

“Roger.”

“Will you kill me if I keep talking?” you ask.

He pins you with a glare. “Maybe I will.”

You give him a knowing, clever smile, and Dave feels some of the tension in his shoulders loosen when Kovac enters the room, gun pointed in your direction. You lift your hands in the air and give Kovac a little wave. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Kovac. Dave and I have already made arrangements in here, so no need to shoot.”

He flashes Dave a questioning glance that gets no satisfaction, but lowers his weapon. “Yeah. Nice to meet you, too.”

Dave takes you by the arm, Kovac the other, and they lead you outside together. Resnik follows to the car, plucking his zip ties out of his pocket while Dave winds around to the driver’s side. “Don’t make any stops on the way back,” he tells Ari, “and don’t let her talk to you.”

“She a witch or something?” laughs the driver.

“Yeah. Something.”

A faint noise of protest perks Dave’s ears. “You don’t need to tie them so tight,” you tell Resnik, wincing at the pinching pain of the ties around your wrists.

“Shut up,” is all he says in reply.

“You know, the best way for a hostage to escape zip ties is getting their hands cut off.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Resnik tugs on your bound hands.

“I’m not going to run. But I will complain about chafing the entire trip if you don’t—”

“And I will sew your pretty little goddamn mouth shut if you don’t shut it.” Resnik shoves you hard into the backseat with Kovac and shuts the door. “Jesus, York. Did you have to pick such a complainer?”

Dave flicks out a switchblade and presses it into Resnik’s palm. “Cut them off and do it again. Not as tight.”

Resnik scoffs. “That's funny, man.”

Dave just stares. “Not as tight this time, sergeant.”

Resnik blinks, affronted. “Did you just pull rank on me?”

“You got a problem with that?”

The man sniffs haughtily. “No, sir.”

“Good.” Dave opens the passenger door and slips inside. He puts his gun, safety on, in the glove box. “Nobody touches her or threatens her. You answer to me if she gets hurt, and you won't be happy with my answer. Clear?”

Echoes of “clear” and “roger” echo through the car. Then, your sweet voice, piping up with a “Thanks, Dave.”

He ignores you, but catching a glimpse of you wedged between Kovac and Resnik, Dave’s chest settles a little at the sight of the zip ties around your wrists, much looser than before.

They make a stop on the way back, after all. But only because Dave has to piss.

And you're exhausted.

“Come on out,” he says. “Stretch your legs.”

You take his hand gratefully, shimmying out of the car. Dave crowds you so nobody sees your bound hands or the blindfold around your eyes. The sky is still pitch-black, but the 24/7 service centre still has vehicles parked outside.

“The stars are beautiful this far out,” you say wistfully, looking upward even though you cannot see the sky. “Sometimes I like to take a drive out and sit on the roof of my car in a parking lot. I like to watch the stars. They remind me I’m small.”

Dave tilts his head to the side. “You like feeling small?”

He can't relate to that. He wants to be the biggest person in the room, even if not a single other person knows it. He likes knowing he’s the one wielding the power. He doesn't understand how you can be so content with your hands bound and your eyes blinded.

“I like knowing there are bigger things out there,” you tell him. “Makes me feel protected.”

He has free reign to look at you when you can't pierce him with that keen stare. Your body shifts in a given space with the grace of water. You were raised like a princess, no doubt. A lifetime of behaving primly and properly under the care of a nanny while your father flitted off to fuck-knows and screwed over his business associates for more power. You know how to wave and smile. Dave didn't expect you to know how to wiggle your way into a person’s brain.

“Something tells me you don't stargaze.”

“Don’t have time for shit like that,” he says with a mirthless laugh. “Busy being a murderous sociopath.”

“I never used those words, Dave,” you say gently, “and I don't think you believe that.”

“Says my captive.”

“Willing captive,” you clarify.

“That doesn't make a difference.”

“It may not for me,” you say, “but it does for you. If I thought you were going to kill me, I would have made a valiant effort to kick your ass.”

Dave snorts. “You a fighter?”

“I’m a talker. Same thing.”

“Yeah, I’ll give you that.”

“And I’m deeply sorry to offend you, Dave”—you feel around for his arm until you find his bicep over his leather jacket—“but you don't frighten me.”

He still feels the touch of your hand when it's gone. Dave makes for the service centre to take a piss, leaving you under Ari’s supervision. Kovac and Resnik are in the empty men’s room, too, talking idly about the choice of fast food joints in the service centre. “Hey, man,” says Kovac, leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. “The girl's hungry. You gonna feed her?”

Dave rolls his eyes. “Of course I’m going to feed her.”

“I can feed her something,” Resnik utters under his breath. Kovac slaps him square in the chest as a warning.

Dave’s jaw ticks. “Guess I wasn't clear earlier. Nobody—”

“Touches her. Yeah, I heard. Why, man, you want dibs? I didn't think we were in middle school.”

Dave has known his guys since their Army days. He knows they're capable of some crass talk, but he’s an expert at ignoring them. This time, he can't seem to shake the crude words.

“She came with us willingly, Resnik. She put out her hands and offered you all coffee. If you want to get your dick wet that badly, fuck your hand.”

When he gets back to the car, he helps you into the passenger’s seat. “Is everything okay?” you ask him.

“I just kidnapped you,” he grumbles, fumbling with your seatbelt, “and you're asking me if everything’s okay.”

“Well, you do seem tense.”

“Yeah. A little.” He's leaning over your body to buckle the belt, and he can smell your perfume, your hair, your freshly-laundered pyjamas.

You offer him a conciliatory smile. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Nice try,” chuckles Dave, even though the urge itches him under the skin. “You comfortable?”

“I’m okay. Are you?”

“Stop doing that.”

“Stop doing what?” You lift a challenging brow.

Dave only says, “Making me want to talk.”

Beside you, Ari laughs. “I’ll talk to you if you want.”

You give Dave your best pointed look through the blindfold. “Thank you, Ari.”

It's dawn by the time the car pulls into Dave’s driveway. He helps you out, letting you stretch your legs before he guides you into the house. He gently urges the blindfold over your head and you blink in the harsh light. “You okay?” he asks.

You briefly cover your eyes with your bound hands. “A little blind. It’s all right. I’m sure you have a lovely home.”

Dave chuckles. “Thanks.”

You grasp for his arm and wrap your hands around it, your eyes still closed. “Okay. Guide me to the basement. I’ll try not to slip.”

He frowns down at you. “Why the basement?”

“What, you don’t have a concrete prison for me?” You crack your eyes open and squint at Dave. “A cell with iron bars?”

“Uh. No. I was going to give you the guest bedroom.”

You release his arm. “Oh.”

Dave doesn't pause to ruminate on your past experience with kidnappings. Your eyes finally adjust and you follow him upstairs to the bedroom across the hall, already made-up with fresh linens.

Your mouth falls open. “This is the nicest jail cell I’ve ever seen.”

“No bars, I’m afraid,” Dave says mirthlessly. “Just a lock on the outside. Sorry.”

“Just protocol,” you say breezily.

The walls are a soothing off-white, the queen-sized bedding white and plush with a flower-patterned comforter atop it. You lift your brows at the sight of the flowers on the nightstand: freshly watered and thriving, not just a leftover decoration. There's a dresser and a plush ottoman at the foot of the bed.

“Did you do all this?” you ask with a sly smile.

Dave checks his watch. You assess the movement: quick and calculated, no time wasted, a quick flick of his wrist so his sleeve no longer obscures the hands. “If you're asking whether I picked the comforter, no.”

“Long shot.” You shrug. “In any case, it looks great.”

“You aren't supposed to sound grateful.” Dave folds his arms over his chest, watching you as you make your way around the room. You have a delicate way of touching things. Your perfectly manicured nails trace gently around the shapes of objects, like you're not so much feeling as reading their auras.

“You could have locked me in a concrete basement,” you point out, opening the top drawer. “Lots of space for a girl with no clothes.”

“I told you,” says Dave, walking up to your side and closing the drawer, “we’ll go back for your things. Tomorrow, okay? For now, you need to eat. You must be hungry.”

“I’ve been hungry since I saw your car outside my window.”

“Right. Well.” Dave wipes his hands on his slacks, hoping you don't notice and accuse him of having an unfulfilled relationship with his father or some shit. “I’ll bring up some food for you. You vegetarian?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Why would I lie about that?”

“Because I…” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don't know.”

You point toward the door on your right. “Ensuite?”

It's such a tactically-posed question that his old instincts almost have him saying, Affirmative. Instead, Dave manages a tight “Yes” and backs out of the room before the rest of the air can escape in the whirlpool you create. “Wash up, if you'd like. No one’s going to bother you.”

“You made that clear.” You give him a wry look and leave for the bathroom.

He has his head cook make you an omelette. Kovac and Resnik munch happily on their takeout food at Dave's dinner table and only clean up after themselves because their boss will wrong their necks if they don’t. Dave sits in his office and checks some boxes on the Post-it note he'd left for himself:

Kidnap rich daughter.

Send ransom.

Piss Daddy off.

Check one. Two more to go.

Dave rubs the slope of his nose and stretches out his back. He wonders if you feel as cramped as he does after being stuck inside an armoured car all night. He wonders why he's wondering about you at all. He hears the shower running upstairs and clutches his pen a little harder.

He has a fucking hostage in his own home, using his facilities. He's heard the word stupid uttered idly tonight, his men thinking he's foolish for keeping you so close. The pretty, young, silver-tongued princess who makes coffee for her captors. He hasn't locked the windows. He hasn't removed every sharp item from the room. You can escape if you want. You can try to attack them. But you know better.

Dave feels a bizarre surge of dread. He doesn't know how to deal with a person who shows no fear when Dave York enters their home. He knows how to cooperate through violence and intimidation. The fact that you respond to neither is not just a lack of leverage. It's a lack of power.

Dave stands abruptly from his desk and finds his head cook, Barry, in the kitchen, sprinkling chives onto what is possibly the most beautiful omelette Dave has ever seen. “Jesus,” he mutters. “She get to you, too?”

Barry chuckles. “No, sir. Just doing my job.”

“Yeah, that's what I keep telling myself, too.” Dave folds his arms over his chest. “This looks great. She’ll appreciate it.”

Barry eyes him subtly before returning to his presentation, but Dave notices the glance. Nothing is subtle when you're a soldier. “What's on your mind, chef?”

“Just…” Barry shrugs his broad shoulders. “The girl. Guy’s gotta wonder why she's here, and not…”

“In a concrete basement?” supplies Dave. Barry shrugs again. “I wasn't aware everyone in my house was so concerned with the health and safety of my prisoner.”

“Not concerned, sir,” says Barry, keeping his eyes down. “Just curious.”

“Clip that curiosity before it gets you into trouble, chef. I’ll take this to her room.”

“Yes, sir,” Dave hears behind his back as he makes his way back to you. He knocks twice on your door, the rap of his knuckles soft, and hears some generic shuffling of feet before you're opening it cautiously, peering through the small gap.

It's only when he catches a whiff of your shampooed hair and looks down into your keen eyes that Dave realises—

Why the fuck is he delivering a goddamn omelette to his own goddamn hostage?

Jesus Christ. He's not stupid. He's never been stupid. He crawled his way up out of the seven hells that was his career in the Army. He wrangled together his old buddies and created a profiting security company. He kills for money and he's never found out. He knows what he's doing.

Except for right fucking now.

You're dressed in a large sweatshirt and a pair of shorts from the dresser. They're both a bit threadbare and mismatched, but you make them look fashionable. Your hair is damp, and you peer at the omelette in his hands.

“That's the most beautiful omelette I’ve ever seen,” you say. “Don't think you can fool me into believing you made that.”

Dave blinks. “Should I be offended?”

You narrow your eyes. “Do you take offence to many things when you kill people for a living? I would think everything sort of slides off.”

Dave’s jaw goes taut. “Are you going to take the plate or just play mind games all night?”

“I’ll take the plate,” you say, opening the door wide, “but I don't see why it has to be one or the other.”

Dave hands you the omelette and feels a bit prideful seeing the clear hunger in your posture. You take a seat at the small, circular table in the bedroom and pull out the other chair for him. “You might as well sit,” you tell him. “You look like you're itching over there.”

Dave should go. He should lock you inside and leave you to your own devices while he gets his guys to bring you food and does his fucking job. He should be mean to you. He should threaten you to behave.

He sits across from you.

You eat exactly how he expects: reserved, taught, precise. Napkin on your lap, back straight. You only speak once you've swallowed and wipe your mouth after every few bites, even when there's nothing there. Dave can see your ravenous hunger, but your behaviour is learned. It’s habit. You've grown up in restraints.

You angle your fork and knife to indicate that you're pausing your meal. “My compliments to the chef.”

Dave, amused by the details of the way you eat, leans back in his chair. “He’ll be happy to have them. My guys are like stray dogs; they don't appreciate a good meal.”

You smirk. “Men tend to eat at their food, rather than eat with it.”

“Am I supposed to ask my food on a date?”

“That's up to you.” Digging back into your omelette, you wait until you swallow before speaking again. Dave hinges on each syllable. “But it might feel more flattered that way.”

“Thanks for the note.”

“Are you happy, Dave?”

He rears back slightly. “What?”

“I asked if you're happy. Do you like what you do?” You finish your omelette and drop your chin into your palm. “Do you like who you are?”

The only light in the room comes from the floor lamp. You seem energy-conscious, consuming as little space and light as possible. Your eyes are soft and curious, your lashes spidery on your cheeks. The width of your pupils sucks him in like the centre of a whirlpool. He wishes more than ever that he stocked this room with alcohol.

“I…” Dave shakes his head. “I don’t know. Should I be?”

“You have a very nice home,” you tell him. “Your cook makes great food. You have authority over some very strong men who like to make crude jokes about blindfolded women. I can understand if you’re happy with your life.”

“Yeah, well.” Dave pinches the bridge of his nose. “Maybe it’s more complicated than having nice things.”

Your smile is wicked. “One must imagine Sisyphus happy,” you say. “Except for Dave York.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “His life is only a death sentence that never kills. Nobody can imagine Sisyphus happy.”

“Maybe you can't imagine it because you don't know what it means to be happy.” The way you hold eye contact makes him jittery. It feels like a challenge—like trying to keep a foothold on the edge of a cliff. If he slips, you win.

“Maybe I don’t.” Dave tilts his head. “Do you?”

You readjust in your seat, drawing a knee up to your chest and resting your chin on it. “Do you know how many times I’ve been taken from my home, Dave?”

His hand curls into a fist atop the table. “I don't want to know—”

“Seventeen since you,” you supply. “Usually never for more than a few hours or a night. Most times, it's because my father pissed someone off, and the men who take me can't conceive of another way to pay him back than to kidnap a woman from her safe place.”

You give him a pointed look and guilt engulfs the discomforting curiosity weighing on his chest. Dave clears his throat.

“That's why I have to imagine Sisyphus happy,” you say softly. “Because if he can’t be happy, doomed to live the same existence over and over, then I can’t ever be free.”

“I think,” Dave says slowly, his voice a swipe of sharp nails in the silence, “that if Sisyphus is truly happy, it only means I’m a bad person.”

Your eyes blink sleepily. “What makes you say that?”

“I did this to myself,” he tells you. “Getting into this life.”

“I don't think that's necessarily true. You're a soldier. This country isn't kind to people like you.”

“No. It isn't. But I still made this choice.” Dave sweeps a hand around the room. “You're here because I killed. Hurt people. Made enemies. I’ve let myself accept the things I do, but if I let myself be happy about all of this, then…”

“You’ll begin to wonder if you're an evil man.”

“No,” he says, looking down at the scattered chives on your empty plate. “I’m already an evil man. I just don't want to be happy about it.”

“Evil people don't go around lamenting their own evilness.” You smile at him and all he thinks is, I don't deserve that. “Maybe Sisyphus isn't happy. Maybe he’s resigned. But maybe there's something in the comfort of his everyday. If he can get even a little bit faster, a bit stronger at pushing the rock, he's making it easier. Maybe everything doesn't always have to be the same.”

He's never thought about it like that. Dave sighs, rubbing his jaw. “Your dad ever tell you you're a pain in the ass?”

You chew on your lower lip and it's the first indication he’s seen that you're remotely troubled. “If he noticed, he certainly wouldn't mention it.”

Dave doesn’t like the way light flees from your smart, incisive eyes. There’s a sharpness to their edges now, and it makes him feel cold, down to the bone. “There isn't a person in the world who wouldn't notice you.”

You lift your brows. “Maybe I should inform him. He’ll be surprised to hear that.”

Dave feels his mouth twitch at the corner. “Not the best dad, then.”

“He isn't winning any awards, though it might make him work harder at it if he knew that. He likes that I behave. He likes me quiet and prim and smiling and decidedly not ruining his reputation.”

“Sounds like he wants a houseplant, not a daughter,” mutters Dave.

You hum ponderously. “Do you think he’ll be happy if I wear more green?”

Dave laughs and covers it by clearing his throat. “Yeah. Maybe. We can try when I give you back to him.”

Your eyes glitter with a thrilling air of mischief. “You can give me back to my quiet, empty home, Dave. I’ll get under my covers, pour a glass of wine, light a candle, and regret that I didn’t annoy you more.” You lift your fork in mock-toast. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” echoes Dave softly, lifting your used knife. The utensils clatter together in the air, and the room goes silent for a long while.

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