#if it was just a one and some type of situation I wouldn’t consider calling attention to it

[wardenparker]

The Secret of My Success, ch 4

Harry Castillo x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When not even a professional matchmaking firm can help Harry Castillo find love, he turns his attention to helping his best friend meet their soulmate instead. The surprise of finding his own in the process will challenge the attitude Harry has taken toward dating for his entire life, and open up a whole new world of romance.

(This story picks up where the last chapter of The Unbearable Weight of Perfection leaves off, and will weave in a few other soulmate characters from previous stories just for fun. Don't worry if you haven't read those stories though! I'll be dropping the pertinent references in each chapter's note section to read along with Harry and his soulmate's adventures.)

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 7k Warnings: *Reader is nicknamed Mack* (Continuous warnings for: food/alcohol consumption, tobacco smoking.) Utter fluff, real estate shopping is stressful, Harry being charming. Summary: The issue of what to do about your living situation finally has to be addressed, but Harry has some tricks up his sleeve. Notes: A few more sprinkled references to The Alewife this chapter!

The little table where you’re doing roommate interviews feels too small today, or maybe it’s just that your smile is too big to contain.

After a few appointments this morning, you had gotten a quick lunch and made yourself ready to ask the same inevitable questions over and over. You expected to be disappointed today just like you were yesterday. You hoped not to be, but realism is a bitch.

The third person to crash and burn today has just left the coffee shop in a huff when your phone buzzes in the table beside you.

‘How is the great roommate hunt going?’ Harry had waited until he was sure you about halfway through your interviews for the day.

The expression on your face softens into a smile when you see his name pop up and you swore open the text without hesitation. ‘It’s been less than spectacular. How were your morning meetings?’

Harry frowns slightly. ‘It’s been less than spectacular, but I am hanging in there. Keeping my sanity thinking about those kisses.’

‘Personally, I wouldn’t call that a sane thought.’ Last night had been endless kisses all over Central Park and in the back of his car until the final ones were feverishly lain at your front door. It had given you the most delicious dreams and soaked through panties to boot.

‘No? What would you call it then?’ He’s grinning as he sends the message, despite the headache pounding behind his left temple. He feels a little off kilter, but it’s not a bad sensation.

'And addictive daydream.' You type back, grinning at your phone. The fact is, you can't stop thinking about him and you don't want to. It even wipes away all the stress of roommate hunting, if only momentarily.

‘And the interviews are a walking nightmare?’ He hopes you will share some of your issues with him. Confide in him.

'They're awful.' You admit to him in one text and then quickly send the next. 'Either they don't have a steady income, which is not always their fault considering the state of the economy — or else they only want to sublet for a month at a time, or they have some immediate and obvious red flag.'

‘Have you considered looking for another place or are you set on staying there?’ He reads the text six times before he sends it to make sure he doesn’t sound too pushy.

'I've started looking around, but I can't say I'd be thrilled about coming in from Brooklyn or Queens every day for meetings.' It's beginning to look like an inevitability, and even that isn't necessarily a good option. 'And that's assuming I can find something in the next few weeks.'

‘My offer stands to put you in touch with a broker.’ Maybe you will take him up on that offer, but he has already ascertained that you are stubborn.

The pause you take is long, but you eventually sigh, groan to yourself, and pick up your phone again. 'It's generous of you, gorgeous, but I can't afford a Tribeca-penthouse-caliber broker.'

‘Kristina works with all budgets.” He assures you, then sends another message right after that. ‘She just has her finger on the pulse of what’s available.’

This time when you sigh, it's resignation. 'Accepting help is not a failure on your part in finding a solution — it is using the tools at your disposal.' You can practically hear your mother's voice in your head.

'I suppose it can't hurt. Would you mind joining me for a little apartment hunting, then?'

‘I would be up for a few viewings.’ You can’t tell it, but he’s grinning as he’s already picking up his office phone to make a call. He thinks about it and types about a follow up text. ‘When do you want to do this?’

’I’m done with meetings by four this afternoon and after ten tomorrow morning. I’m sorry it has to be so quick.’ The window of opportunity to figure out your housing dilemma is rapidly coming to a close, but you’ll figure it out. You always do. Sometimes it’s not an ideal solution, but it still always gets figured out.

‘I’ll call her right now’ He taps out and then add on, ‘Anywhere I need to avoid?’

‘I don’t think I can be picky anymore.’ In a perfect world, you’d love to live somewhere interesting and bustling, with book stores and cafes and all manner of other things. In reality? You actually have loved living above a friendly bodega on the same block as a laundromat and pet groomer. City life suits you, so wherever it is, you’ll make it work. A bit resigned, you send Harry your budget range and sigh. Maybe this will be okay. It’s nice that he’s so willing to help.

Harry winces slightly and cradles the phone against his shoulder as the call connects. “Kristina, Harry Castillo.” He announces even though he’s sure she knows it’s him. “Need a favor…”

******

It’s four-thirty that evening when you meet Harry and his agent friend at his office. He’d promised when he’d texted you with the time and place to meet that it was fine that the appointments were a little late in the day, and you’d thanked him profusely. Maybe he’ll let you take him to dinner as a thank you.

“I am so happy you could put together some viewings for us.” Harry had already talked to her, in depth, about this appointment earlier. Still he smiles at the broker before turning to you. “Sweetheart, she has six different apartments for you, all within your budget.”

Sweetheart. He’d called you that for the first time last night and you’d nearly giggled.

“I’m so grateful you could put this together on short notice.” You tell the middle aged woman with the kind smile and sharp nose when you shake her hand. How she’d managed to find six places is beyond you, but you’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“I say we take the car?” Harry suggests but he looks over at you for confirmation. “Unless you want to see how to get there from the subway?”

“I can take stock of subway routes as we drive,” you insist. “I don’t want to waste anyone’s time tonight. I know this is an unconventional hour to go real estate hunting.”

“It’s a good thing.” He promises, smiling indulgently at you. “We can see what the neighborhoods are like when people are off work.”

“Why don’t we start with the furthest out, and we can progressively make our way back toward midtown?” Kristina suggests with a smile. Judging from Harry Castillo’s private consultation and his attitude toward this new client of hers, she sees this ending in perhaps only two possible ways. Despite that, she wants to make sure you feel like you’re getting her best professionalism.

“What do you think?” He asks. “If it’s too far, we can immediately eliminate it.” He wants you to be comfortable and not believe that he is pushing.

“Do we have a list?” You ask, and when Kristina pulls it out you’re able to cross two addresses off the initial selection right away. They’re just a hair farther away than you would like but might be good to revisit if the others don’t work out. “Can we start in Little Italy?” You ask, looking at the third address on the list. It’s probably going to be tiny, but you don’t mind that.

Harry glances at Kristina, lifting a brow and she nods professionally. “Absolutely. We can start there and see if we can’t find you a new apartment.”

The car ride doesn't take long, just from the general proximity of Tribeca to Little Italy, but the building that Harry's driver pulls into underground parking for, is decidedly plain on the outside. It's that minimalist modern aesthetic and that you never quite got the appeal of, but it's not like wherever you choose is going to be your forever home. Some place clean and decently functioning is plenty for now.

“This is a 2/1 fourth floor walk up.” She explains as the three of you head for the stairs attached to the garage. “There is no laundry in unit, but there is laundry in the basement for the residents.” She tilts her head back and forth. “First come first serve style.”

"Same as where I am now." Which isn't great, but it isn't terrible. The building is just as drab inside as out, though. Which is not inspiring. "The underground parking didn't look like it had many spaces. Is there at least one space per resident?"

“Spaces are an additional eight hundred dollars a month.” She winces slightly as she looks back at you while climbing up the stairs. “Right now, there is only one available space.”

"That's...less than ideal." Even as you say it, Harry squeezes your hand gently. Unless the apartment itself is unbelievable, it's looking like this unit is going to be a no-go.

“Are utilities included?” Harry asks as he ascends the stairs beside you. Wondering what you are thinking as you look around the very austere stairwell.

"For this unit, yes." Kristina looks over at you as you reach the fifth floor. "That's part of why the price is higher on this than the other Little Italy unit."

"That's not so bad, then." The difference does matter, especially when you're budgeting closely. "The parking space does make it a little tight, but let's see the unit before any decisions are made."

Harry doesn’t say much, he’s just playing a supporting roll right now. Listening to the heels of both your and Kristina’s shoes click on the stairs.

The brutalist architecture carries through into the unit. You can see that the second Kristina opens the front door to 5C. Cement gray everywhere with slate accents is not terribly inspiring for you, but you walk through the space and listen to her give you the statistics on it all. When you reach the bedroom and find that the sole window faces out to an office building next door, you shake your head. "I—hate to say it, but I don't think all the included utilities in the world would make this one my choice," you admit finally.

To her credit, Kristina doesn’t try to convince you to keep it as an option. She just nods and pulls out her phone to tap some notes. “Not a problem.” She promises you. “The next one is not too far away.”

Unfortunately, the second apartment in Little Italy is also less than ideal. With no parking whatsoever and barely enough space in the bathroom to turn around let alone do any business, it just isn't a viable space for you.

The third space is in Greenwich Village Kristina tells you in the car on the way there. It's on the fifth floor above a coffee shop and there is not only an elevator, but the parking fee is lower than the first place you looked at.

“What would the parking fee be?” Harry asks, glancing back from the outside view to see how you took the description of the place.

"For this building it's sixty-five for the first car per unit and an additional hundred for a second space." She glances up and you and smiles. "Which isn't an issue, I take it? I understand you only have one vehicle."

"That's right. But what would my guests do about parking?" If you ever have family or friends visit, you would take them around on foot for the most part, but emergencies are always possible.

"There are designated guest spaces for this building, as well. One per unit. The parking garage is behind the building, with designated floors for residents and employees of the businesses on the bottom floor."

“That’s good.” Harry comments, pleased with the way your eyes light up at that little piece of information. “And the elevators are accessible from the garage?” He asks, frowning slightly. “Security isn’t in the building?”

“There is a security office, you’ll see it as we pull in. The building’s owner is very particular. The door man is also security personnel.” As the car pulls into the garage, they’re stopped by a friendly looking young man with shoulders even broader than Harry’s. Kristina identifies herself and a moment later the guard comes out with an iPad to note the license plate of the car while it’s parked inside.

“This is a lot of security for what is actually the least expensive apartment on the list,” you observe, wondering what is wrong with the rest of the place that it operates as a high end building without the price tag of one.

“Yes.” Kristina nods. “However, I’m sure the residents rest easy at night.” She says as the car is parked in a Visitors spot and Harry opens the door to help you out. “The utilities are included and there is laundry in the unit.” She adds, checking her phone. “We will need to go to the 5th floor.”

In the elevator, which is right behind the security office in the space that you’re sure must be a shared wall with the building, Kristina enters a four digit code in a PIN pad and smiles. “Security,” she tells you happily as the elevator begins to move. “The building went up in the 1950s and the most recent owner had it returned to mid-century styles when it was purchased.” When she sees your smile falter, she shakes her head. “All appliances and utilities are up to date, the mid-century return is only aesthetic.”

“Oh,” you nod, breathing a silent sigh of relief. “Okay. I wasn’t looking forward to a vintage kitchen crapping out on me, even if it is cute.”

Harry chuckles as he glances up at the little screen that shows what floor you are on. “Do you cook?” He asks, realizing that he’s never actually talked to you about things like that.

“Absolutely.” The grin you flash him is proud. “All those years of waitressing? I picked up more than a few things. But that’s fifth date stuff. I save the homemade mac and cheese for when I know it’s serious.”

His brow ticks up and he smirks slightly. “That good, huh?” He asks, his tone doubtful. “Is it as good as those ‘Marry Me’ recipes that have become so popular?”

“It’s not those flavors, but it did get one of the owners her husband, so I think it counts.” Christa and Ben Miller are some of the sweetest people you know and deserve every happiness. The fact that Ben is a bottomless pit who eats every leftover known to man? That’s just helpful.

“So this must be a scared Alewife recipe.” He chuckles. “It sounds like a place I need to visit. Or they need to start a franchise.”

“Visit?” A smirk curls your lip as you hit the fifth floor. He’s not serious, so there’s no harm in teasing him. “I thought you never actually go on the trips you plan?”

“I haven’t had anyone to go with me on them.” It’s a bit of a realization dawning on him. He didn’t want to travel alone and he didn’t want a woman who just wanted a free trip. He’s not dumb enough to believe that his wealth isn’t an attraction, but beyond Lucy, he had never offered to take a woman away before. He doesn’t mind a mutual beneficial relationship, but he does mind being used.

Kristina leads you down a hallway in polite quiet, letting you talk behind her as she skirts through the pale yellow painted halls with their blue-grey carpeting. She knows enough to be quiet when she doesn’t have something helpful or productive to say to a new client, and you seem to be enjoying each other’s company so there is currently to reason to interrupt.

“Do you…want to?” Realizing that he might not actually be joking makes something in your stomach twist and your heart thud.

“I’m not opposed to it.” He admits with a causal shrug of his shoulders. You might not have been serious about him needing to go and he doesn’t want you to feel obligated. “I’ve never been to that area before.” All of his trips were business related.

“I thought men dreaded the hometown visit and meeting the family, that’s all.” You slip your hand back into his and thread your fingers together. “I would love to give you an excuse to actually relax. Whenever you’re ready.”

“Your family lives there?” He asks, almost surprised by that nugget of information. He had assumed they had moved at some point.

“They moved back a couple of years ago.” As a military family, they — and you — were always on the move. But not anymore. ��My mother retired from the Army and Dad’s stationed in Fayetteville again. They loved it there, so he was glad to take an administrative post and stay put.”

“That’s nice.” They must like the place if they wanted to go back. It’s home, just like New York is to him, even with all the headaches the city can cause. “Maybe we can plan something after the wedding?” He suggests, knowing that taking a trip with such a tight deadline on your best friend’s wedding might not be a relaxing trip.

“That would be really nice.” It hadn’t even occurred to you but your parents are invited to Percy’s wedding.

But the thought runs out of your head when Kristina stops in front of a door marked 5E and pushes it open to let you inside. “The fifth and sixth floors of this building are all several smaller units,” she explains, entering after you and shutting the door behind her. “They’re affectionately referred to as the bachelor floors. Mostly one bedroom apartments with a few studios in the mix.”

"But this is the bedroom unit?" Harry asks, a bit of firmness in his voice that seems a little out of place but he sees the subtle nod from Kristina.

“Of course.” She smiles, cool and professional. “This unit is courtyard facing with a small balcony of the living room. French doors and all.”

“A balcony?” Harry smiles when he hears the disbelief in your voice when you rush towards the glass doors on the opposite side of the room. The place is not overly large, not a shoebox, but you will have to be judicious with your furniture. “The place has great lighting.”

“Harry, you gotta see this!” The French doors are simple things just painted white with a basic white curtain, but they open up onto an idyllic scene of the courtyard below. It’s stunning. The kind of place you would come to have breakfast every single morning.

He chuckles quietly as he strides across the small space and joins you on the balcony. It’s just big enough to have a small table and two chairs. Honestly reminding him of the balconies in Paris. “That is not a view you get in New York often.” He hums as he looks down on the little gardens that are planted in raised beds below. Someone has spent time and effort on the courtyard and it shows.

“If the kitchen in this place sucks I’m going to be so fucking sad,” you laugh, sighing with more than a little wistfulness in your voice. “I might even put up with a tiny bathroom for this view.”

He smirks slightly and tilts his head towards the apartment. “Let’s go see.” He tells you, following you back into the living room.

The kitchen is small, it’s true, but it’s outfitted with retro-looking modern appliances and has space for you to put in either an island or a small bistro table if you want it. It’s nice, though not large by any means. You can’t host a dinner party here but you could crowd a couple of friends onto the couch for movie night. That’s presupposing you were to make friends here.

“So what’s wrong with it?” You ask Kristina bluntly, after seeing that even the small bathroom isn’t unusable by any means. “The median rent in the Village is like five thousand a month for a studio and this place is less. There has to be something wrong with it.”

“It’s rent controlled.” She answers easily. “The contract would be transferred over to you if you were to take it. That’s why this unit is so cost effective.”

“I don’t even understand how it’s still available,” you admit, looking around. It’s not perfect, you will be the first to note that. There could be a hell of a lot more space in the kitchen and bathroom. The closet could be set up better. But for a safe building in an interesting part of the city and actual privacy for yourself? It’s…pretty fucking excellent. A couple of pieces of furniture from your current place will end up being sold, but that’s not too much of a loss. They were old pieces anyway.

Looking back at Kristina and Harry, you put up both hands as if to say I would be stupid not to want it. But out loud you ask: “What is the application process like?”

“You give me some basic information and I’ll get the application put through.” She explains. “Since I’m the broker for the apartment, it will be easier.” She smiles happily. “It’s a lovely little place for living by yourself, I think you would be extremely happy with it.”

“What do you think?” Turning your eyes up to Harry, you nod at the space around you. “Would you mind coming to visit me here from time to time? Tribeca’s not that far.”

“I think that it’s a good deal.” Harry glances around the apartment seriously. “Is it too small for you?” He asks. “Do you need more space?”

“I mean I don’t think I can throw a dinner party here,” you shrug. “But I also don’t know enough people in the city to actually invite.”

“If you want to host a dinner party, you can have it at my place.” Harry offers with a small grin. “I’m sure you will make friends.”

“That’s generous of you.” And like a magnet, you end up in his arms for a soft, strong hug. “You just want that fifth dating cooking, don’t you?”

“I do like macaroni and cheese.” He jokes, smiling when you giggle, tilting his head. “If you like to cook, you might like my kitchen.”

“You’ll have to show me sometime.” Stealing a kiss from him and giving his waist a little squeeze, you turn around with a grin to do some paperwork with Kristina. In the few days you’ve known Harry Castillo, you have so many reasons to be grateful for having him in your life. And hopes for plenty more.

******

He takes you out to sushi. This small, intimate restaurant where the sushi chefs perform their magic out front and the rolls are made to order. Everything is fresh, everything is delicious and you don’t order anything. The chefs just prepare whatever they feel like making and you happily consume it. “So, are you relieved or concerned that you found an apartment so quick?” He asks as he watches you delicately dip a piece of nigiri in soy sauce.

“A little bit of both.” And a touch of guilty on top of it, though you know your landlord in Washington Heights has a waiting list of people interested in apartments. Families mostly, not people looking for a roommate. Which is why you had so much trouble. “I’ll have to take care of some logistics tomorrow and get some furniture up for sale, but just getting things going is actually a relief.”

“Good.” He selects a delicate little bite and looks up at you. “It’s a good choice, I think. The building is safe and the apartment is good for your needs right now.”

“And,” an extra little something you had found it only after filling it the application. “It’s close to your place.”

“Yeah.” He isn’t upset about that. “Not too far away if you want to borrow a cup of sugar or something.” He jokes.

"Or something." Under the table, your knee bumps his and you both grin.

There’s a wonderful tension between you. An anticipation of when rather than if something will happen. Unfortunately, it won’t be tonight because you both have busy days tomorrow. Something that is starting to frustrate Harry and he thinks he’s a relatively patient man. “How is your sushi?”

"I think," you hum, picking up another piece of tuna with your chopsticks, "that I've only ever had crappy sushi before. Because this is delicious."

“It’s good, isn’t it?” He beams, happy that you are enjoying it. “But your steak was better, right?” He jokes.

“Maybe.” Its there. Right under the surface. The tension and teasing that’s threatening to break into something more each and every time you’re together. Of course, now that you’ve kissed him? The craving is only growing. “But at least I know that whenever you have a sushi craving, I won’t be scouring the menu for something that’s just okay. I can try out new things and not just be putting on a brave face over it.” In case it isn’t patently obvious to him, you’d give pretty much anything a try if he suggested it. You might be stubborn, but you’re also smitten.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had anything from here that I’ve not enjoyed.” He promises, almost silly in his pride that you are enjoying his selection for dinner. Despite there being sake on the table, he had also asked for a white wine to have with dinner. It was a beautiful, crisp, sweet wine that pairs perfect with the buttery, fatty meats and he holds up his glass gently. “To many more dinners here.” He offers.

“Cheers.” Glasses clink together with a dainty, musical quality, as smooth and delicate as the wine itself, and your smile widens. Harry has the ability to make you feel joyful in a way you never expected. Hopeful. Like each time the future gets mentioned it feels a little brighter.

“I can see your mind whirling,” he confesses with a grin after he sets his glass down. “Have you already started planning out the apartment? Where you will put your things?”

“A little bit.” When he puts his glass down he reaches for your hand, and you happily put yours into his. “But I was actually thinking about you.”

There’s a confused tint to his expression, even as he gently pulls your hand up and presses a kiss to the back of your hand. “What about me were you thinking of?”

And just like that, your cheeks are burning hot all over again. He does that so effortlessly. “How this is the best few days of getting to know someone I’ve ever had,” you tell him unashamedly. “And I’m really glad that I was feeling ballsy at Perce’s party. Otherwise I would’ve just been admiring you from the sidelines instead of up close.”

“Are you saying I might not have asked you out?” Harry challenges playfully. “I think that you know now that I can be determined.” He winks at you. “Within reason, of course.”

“I’m saying…” That earns him a smirk and a tut as you huff a laugh. “That it may have taken a little longer for your good taste to kick in and we might not already be on our third date.”

“Oh.” Looking into your eyes, he sees such soft affection that it almost scares him. You are so different from the previous women that he’s dated. You don’t play things close to the vest, open and vulnerable.

“Too much?” He looks so shocked that you’re afraid it might have been, but he doesn’t actually seem unhappy with your observation.

“No,” he quickly disabuses you of that notion. “Not at all. I am just so surprised by how open you are. It’s…” he struggles to find the right word. “Refreshing.”

“I don’t see the point in pretending.” Not anymore. Not since you got more comfortable in your own skin — or at least until your forced yourself to be. Suddenly growing again has been a whole different set of insecurities but you do your best to just put them aside these days.

“No games, no pretense.” He settles back in his chair and surveys you with a glowing admiration. “I used to say that I trust my gut, but I stopped a couple of years ago.” He admits with a slightly rueful tilt of his head. “But I might have to start trusting it again.”

“Why did you stop?” As soon as the question comes out of your mouth you realize how personal it is and bit your lip. “You…don’t have to answer that. If you don’t want to.”

“The last serious relationship I pursued,” Harry sighs softly. “I went into it very analytically. I knew what I desired and I thought that it would work even though she was fighting against it.” He shoots you a self-deprecating smile. “She kept telling me that I could do better, that she wasn’t worth it, but I wanted her.” He glances down into his lap. “She ultimately chose someone else.”

“We’ve all made mistakes in relationships.” His hand is still holding yours and you thread your fingers together, encouraging him to look up at you. “That’s the price we pay for taking risks. For not sitting around waiting for our soulmates. And it sucks but it’s okay.” Hell, you’ve made plenty of mistakes too. You’re only human. “But, for the record? You deserve the very best. And I’m not really that sorry that she didn’t turn out to be it, because it means I get to be the one sitting at dinner with you instead.”

It’s on the tip of his tongue to say that he doesn’t have a soulmate, but he doesn’t. Not when you sound so proud of being with him. “You are right.”

He frowns at your description of yourself although it’s not untrue. “I think that you are beautiful, inside and out.” He decides that is the best way to acknowledge what you said and not get into a debate over sensitive body topics. He has his own feelings of inadequacies, but he fortunately had the means to fix it. But he doesn’t think that you need to fix anything.

To your mind, that’s a polite and potentially sweet way of saying he agrees but doesn’t mind, and that’s sort of all you want in this moment. Just the acknowledgement that the man you’re dating is a man and not a boy. He’s someone who will acknowledge all of you and not ask you to be less than yourself for any reason. That is dishearteningly hard to find, you’ve noticed. “And I think you are, too,” you tell him decisively. “And I don’t mind reminding you whenever you like.”

“Thank you.” He smiles and leans back slightly to pick up his chopsticks again. “What does your day look like tomorrow?” He asks. “I know Percy is planning on house hunting with Tamara and I didn’t know if they had anything going on wedding planning wise.”

"I have two meetings in the afternoon and a couple of hours' worth of work to do in the office, but that doesn't necessarily have a time stamp on it." When he tilts his head curiously, you smile with your wine halfway to your lips. "I'm booking Percy and Tam's honeymoon tomorrow, having a Zoom meeting with her dressmaker friend, and meeting with my other clients to finalize their florist. None of it is too arduous, but its a solid day's work."

Harry nods, “I have a meeting in Philadelphia tomorrow afternoon.” He picks up another roll, this one a delight of crab and eel. “After four or five meetings in the morning in the office at five AM to talk to some of our international relations.”

"You're leaving town?" It's not like Philadelphia is far, but suddenly your stomach drops out at the realization that you won't see him tomorrow. It's only been a few days since you met and you've seen him every day — making you potentially the neediest new date ever, you realize a second later.

“Only for the afternoon.” He sees the way your eyes widen and he smiles. “I’m taking the helicopter. I should be back by seven or eight.” He dips the roll and pops it into his mouth to chew. “I was wondering if you’ve ever had an authentic Philly before.” Even though he’s a dyed in the wool New Yorker, he’s got to admit that Philly cheesesteaks from the city they are named after are amazing.

Nope. Definitely don't have the brain space to process that he has access to a helicopter for business trips right now. Deal with that implication later. The bite of spicy tuna roll you just took gives you time to compose yourself before you have to respond. "I can't say that I have."

“Would you like one?” He asks it so casually but it’s actually something he had just thought of. Wanting to see you after a day of long and annoying meetings. The idea of a quiet night sounds amazing. “I can bring dinner back with me. The place I go to, they have amazing cheesesteaks they will pack up for me to stay hot.”

"Makes me wish my building in the Heights had a helicopter pad." With a splitting smile lighting up your face, you breathe a silent sigh of relief and nod. "I'd love to see you. Just let me know where and when to meet you, I'll be done with my meetings by then."

“Why don’t you come to my place?” Again, casual, but there is a hidden invitation under it. He purses his lips lightly as he adds, “the doorman can let you in if you beat me there.”

That's a big invitation, and a serious one considering since you got interrupted on Sunday night you've both sort of slowed down on the intensity of things. It's big, but it feels right. "Absolutely." That smile making you beam softens just a little, taking on a dreamlike quality. "I'd love that."

His shoulders relax and his face lights up, happy that the two of you seem to be on the same page. He makes a mental note to also bring flowers when he comes back. “Good.” He picks up his glass again. “Now you’ve made my meetings tolerable, something to look forward to.”

"I'll bring dessert," you decide, wanting to contribute something to the night and knowing that if you make it yourself it will give you something to channel your excited nervous energy into tomorrow. It should get channeled into packing but you know better.

“That sounds perfect.” He feels like you need to contribute something so he’s nodding. “I’ll text you my eta, but you want to say seven-thirty?”

"Perfect." And when you get home tonight, you're definitely making sure you have good lingerie clean. Just in case.

Unfortunately, it has to be an early night for Harry again. He has to be on the phone at five, although it would be better if it was earlier. So after dinner, he pays and escorts you out to the car again. “I should go home and get some sleep.” He says reluctantly.

"I know." He holds the door open so you can slip into the car and then gets in after you, confident that his driver will be pulling away from the curb smoothly and safely just seconds later. "I'll see you tomorrow, though."

“Absolutely.” He agrees as he reaches down and picks up your hand. “I won’t be available for calls, but feel free to text.”

"I'll send you silly shit to make you laugh," you promise. The warmth and weight of his hand is familiar now, thought still electric in its excitement.\

He chuckles and squeezes your hand gently. “It will give me a chance to see what kind of things you find funny.”

"Sending stupid memes and texts is sort of a love language. You should see my text thread with Percy."

“Nope.” He clicks his tongue. “I’ve heard messages between best friends is strictly off limits for legal reasons.” He jokes.

"Incriminating evidence," you agree, nodding seriously. "Though right now it's a lot of Pinterest sharing."

“I can’t even imagine.” He snorts, although he’s never used Pinterest. He knows what it is, but never had any need for it.

"The way this man wants a balloon arch at his wedding is criminal," you joke, but it is true. Percy had practically begged you to find a way to fit in it somewhere.

“A balloon arch?” His brow ticks up, amused and surprised that it is so high up on Percy’s wants. “Well then he needs to have one. Unless Tamara hates the idea.”

"We settled on having it be the background for a photo booth area. So that it can be in lots of photos but doesn't clash with the aesthetic of the florals that they agreed on for their actual ceremony." Compromise has, unsurprisingly, been pretty easy with your best friend and his soulmate. They're both strongly opinionated on certain things and easy going on others, which is amazingly helpful because the things that Percy is dead set on, Tamara is flexible about. And vice versa.

“That should be cute.” He agrees. “All the photos in the booth should be made into a big picture for them.” He suggests.

"That would be cute." Unmistakably impressed, your sure your face betrays it but you give his hand a squeeze anyway. "I'll see what the photographer can do in the way of that when we book one." Those meetings are keeping you busy all week long, making sure you can get good vendors for this wedding on such short notice.

“I’ll pay for it.” He decides. “See if they can take the photos and turn it into a photo of the bride and groom.” He suggests. “You know what I mean, right?”

"Collage style." Yes, you definitely know what he means, you've seen it done with all sorts of art. "Should I...ask the photographer privately? So you can surprise them with it?"

“Please.” He nods. “It will be one of my gifts to them.”

"They'll be thrilled." It's exactly the sort of thing that they would display proudly at home. "I'm happy to meddle behind the scenes on your behalf."

“Thank you.” He had seen a photo collage at an art gallery. Thousands of little photos making up a larger, stunning portrait. He wanted something like that for them.

"Of course." The words are simple, but the implication rings true in your chest with surprising clarity — that you would do nearly anything for him.

It doesn’t take nearly long enough to get to your apartment as he would like. “Let me walk you up.” Harry offers as you climb out of the car.

"Three floors?" You raise an eyebrow at him but he just smiles, and you grin like the smitten thing you are. "Okay. Walk with me."

He leaves the car, knowing that his driver will be there when he gets back. “Are you looking forward to having an elevator?”

"Is it horrible to say yes?" The walk up is nice enough at just three floors. Five would be too much. You would end up being one of those people that carries their heels in their purse sometimes and putting shoes in your bags doesn't sound like fun.

“Not at all.” He laughs and shakes his head as you round the turn for the second flight of stairs. “But let me hire a moving company to get you relocated.”

With your foot on the next stair, you stop and turn to face him. “You don’t have to do that, honey.” Would it be easier? Sure. A fuckton easier. But you’ve been taking care of yourself — and usually your friends too — for your entire adult life. Having someone offer to simply take care of things for you so easily is…pleasantly disorienting. Like you’re not at all sure what you’ve done to deserve it.

“Seriously?” He looks at you like you are crazy. “You want to haul all your furniture down three flights of stairs over an entire day when four men could break down your bed, move all your stuff and have your bed set back up in three hours at max?”

“I’m just…” Your shoulders soften. You shrug. And you bite your lip as you glance down at the floor. “I’m not used to someone offering to take care of things for me.”

He sees the almost shyness in the gesture and finds himself wanting to have you rely on him. You’re strong, self-reliant, but he wants you to also enjoy being taken care of. “Well, I hope you don’t mind it.” He smiles. “We can move some of your more personal things while they do the heavy lifting, how about that?”

It’s most definitely shyness that colors your voice when you look back up at him, smiling at the way he’s stepped into your space and made himself close enough for you to reach up and kiss.

This is the moment, with that curl of hair falling over his forehead and his smoldering brown eyes steady on yours. With his hand on your waist and a smile pinning up the corner of his mouth, that realize exactly how far gone you are for this man. In just three days, you’ve gone and started falling in love.

“Okay.” The simplest little whisper, but you tilt your head back for that kiss and feel it wash over you like a summer breeze.

He smiles and he pecks your lips again. “Don’t think anything about it.” He promises with a pleased little hum. He wants you to not worry about this move. “We will have you set up in a flash.”

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

TSoMS: @inept-the-magnificent @aomi-recs @noisynightmarepoetry @beezusvreeland @vikiii07

[sinnbaddie]

I think Kishimoto has a long list of problems within himself that he’s put into his work like his misogyny regarding the women, but I think his racism should also be addressed - specifically in regards to Gai.

Gai (Tenten and Lee as well) has been insinuated to be Chinese and besides the clothing to show it, he uses racial stereotypes to further it.

The stereotype that Chinese people are “all loud” comes to mind. He makes sure to draw a difference with Gai (and Lee) and the others by making them loud and “weird”. He’s almost always the butt of a joke if he’s a part of the story outside of the very few moments where he genuinely shines.

SP doesn’t help with his racial stereotyping because in filler there are jokes about Gai having a small penis which is a stereotype that Asian men (Chinese in this case) people have small genitalia.

Overall Gai is treated very poorly because of Kishimoto and SP’s racism and I think it should be acknowledged and talked about because it’s irritating and disgusting.

[silkentine]

Me when they are the sisters ever: 😭😭😭 They came out soooo freaking well. I won’t lie, they took me a thousand years to finish but through the constant support from all of my buds (and my latent bisexuality), we made it 😤

Hopefully you guys know the deal by now: design choices, easter eggs, and (NEW!) closeup shots below the read more. ⬇️

I wanted Ace to have a very down-to-earth vibe and looked at Aussie beach-girls, coastal cowgirls, and vaqueras for reference. (IDK, I’ve just always envisioned Ace as part-Australian🌺 and Mexican 🏴‍☠️) Her clothing choices are mostly natural or utilitarian materials like the painted wooden beads on her top, her woven fabric and leather belts, and her denim jumpsuit. I gave her bikini top a zen-garden kind of feel because I read the first Ace’s Story Novel and I loved how idyllic and peaceful they made Sixis Island sound so I wanted to invoke that in some way.

Speaking of her painted wooden beads, they hang off the back of her top and represent her connection to Sabo and Luffy. They watch her back once she sets sail. She only wears one red glass bead earring because the other one got ripped out of her ear when a child, leaving her earlobe torn (don’t think about it too much 😢). Also, YES! she does wear a hibiscus flower just like Rouge (because I hate you and I want to make you cry, muhwahahahaha).

Also, I really wanted her to have super textured curly hair that licks behind her like flames. I am always considering whether or not a character should have long hair or not because I don’t want it to be a hindrance if they’re in a fight (or if they ARE a fighter with long hair, how to they avoid an enemy making use of that?). Ace is, of course, a Logia-type Devil Fruit User so I think she wouldn’t have trouble with people grabbing it LOL I get the feeling that she doesn’t take very good care of it even though it looks amazing. Like you’d think it would be soft and bouncy just by looking at it but if you ever get the chance to run your fingers through it, it’s a total rat’s nest and there’s sand and food all up in it. She still falls asleep while eating 😂 but she tries her best to only do it around people she can trust (woman moment 😔).

Honestly, her design is not that different from Ace’s canon look. It feels really vital to Ace’s character to have a lot of skin showing. And he’s always hanging all over himself with his hips all cocked like the weight of the world is too much to stand up straight. It is certainly not my OWN preference to make her an absolute smoke show. That’s just the character, okay? (I’m partially lying and the proof is that I turned the emblem on Ace’s hat strap into a sternum tattoo for no other reason than that it is sexy af.)

Here are some closeups of Ace:

Now for Sabo, I’ve made her very girly. I tried putting her in pants or something more militant but she told me that she’d wear the big poofy sleeves and hiked-up ruffled skirt. I think Sabo has always had a strong grasp on his fashion sense and individual flair and I truly believe that his personal style is one of the major influences for the rest of the Revolutionary Army resulting in the very flashy, queer, steampunk aesthetic (aside from Dragon’s plain-ass cloak). So of course I had to implement her nonconformist look when reimagining her as a woman and dress her up to the nines.

I’ve given her very ornate jewelry that is there to tell a story, even if she herself doesn’t know it. I like to think she picks up stuff from her travels that resonate with her, such as a damaged set of earrings with one stone missing or red cup-shaped shells featuring three nestled pearls. Another accessory that cannot go unmentioned is her dragon claw hat pin that keeps her top hat resting on top of her hair (and is definitely used as a weapon when the situation simply doesn’t call for trusty metal pipe). She also has a veil that obscures her prominent facial scar. I imagine she’s not very keen on the reminder of the incident from her childhood that took away her memories. I also kept her chipped toothed because 1) it’s fucking adorable and 2) is a visual reminder that she no longer aligns herself with the nobility who would have gotten such a thing fixed. She is so poised in almost every outward facet of her life from her dignified role as the Chief of Staff to the elegant materials in her clothing that it can be easy to forget she was also a rough and tumble forest dweller. Every time Koala remembers this, he lets out the biggest sigh.

Her hair is inspired by Gibson Girls and Elizabeth Swann from the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie. I wanted it to be fussy and tidy but fall apart when she’s in moments of distress. For example, when she remembers her sisters, her hair starts to look like Ace’s flaming mane. I’m so in love with her, I think she looks like an adorable little porcelain doll that would fuck you up. I made an effort to keep her eyes a little bit manic. I get lost in her steely black orbs (and also Ace’s warm brown ones, but we’re talking about Sabo rn).

Here are her close-ups:

Plot notes for this AU:

For this series of character designs, I wanted the expressions and outfits to be aligned with the canon plot but I don’t know if I have the heart to kill fem!Ace in my AU. I’m too attached and ASL has suffered enough!!!!! But Ace’s death is also a major defining moment for Luffy so it feels disingenuous to completely avoid it. Also a huge aspect of Sabo’s character is carrying on Ace’s will and I have so many thoughts about how the Dressrosa Colosseum scene would play out if they were all women. Oh well, I’ll cross that tragic bridge when I get to it. I’m definitely going to draw some Modern AU Girl Piece ASL though. They deserve to hang out with no stakes 😭 They are sisters!!!

Check out the tag “girl piece” on my blog for my other One Piece genderbends! 🥰

[sanjisleggy]

the warlord’s wife (dracule mihawk x reader)

req: Oh if you want to you should do a Mihawk x reader (fem or gn) that's hurt comfort where the reader is like the exact opposite of him. Like she is usually so happy and sweet and kind. And something happens and maybe she starts to worry that she is too much for Mihawk because he is just someone who is quiet and to himself all the time and she thinks she is constantly bothering him

a/n: ahhh my first attempt at writing for Mihawk! a much shorter fic compared to my others but i hope you guys like it nonetheless :3c i’d love to write longer fics for him if anyone has any ideas yippee

contents: rude people (lol), insecure!fem!reader, simp!Mihawk, a tiny bit of angst, some hurt/comfort, fluff :3c

wc. 1k

wanna be on my taglist?

—

i. 

standing outside the large ornate doors, you feel your face burn with embarrassment as you contemplate simply going to the docks to wait out by the hitsugibune until the gala ends. as tempting as escaping from the horrific social situation sounds right now, your pride refuses to let you bow your head in defeat.

”i don’t know how else to convince you,” you try to appeal to the two marines standing guard outside the venue entrance once more, “if you could just ask him to verify my identity—”

”i’m sorry, miss,” the larger man of the two cuts you off with a less than apologetic look. “there’s just no reason why we should do as you say. if we listened to every man or woman demanding to go in, we’d lose our heads.”

your indignance and frustration quickly bubbles into pure anger and for a brief moment you lament having left your katana back at the castle. you bite your tongue, unable to think of any other way to convince the marine officers that you are, indeed, a guest who’d been invited to the gala because you’re literally one of the Warlords’ wives.

“besides,” the other officer chips in unprompted, “no offence but you don’t seem like the type of woman someone like Dracule Mihawk would marry.” his partner fails to hold back a scoff but quickly attempts to return his expression back into one of neutral professionalism.

clenching your fists by your sides, you try your very hardest to keep your eyes from tearing up for the second time tonight. normally such a comment wouldn’t phase you—years of being Mihawk’s partner has done wonders for thickening your skin—right now, though, you can’t help but feel a familiar sharp stinging sensation pierce through your chest.

of all the snarky comments you marine dogs decide to make, why this one?

ii.

it had only been an hour into the gala and already you regretted begging your husband, just weeks prior, to consider attending with you as his guest. the event was a grand one held by the marines every year to “show their appreciation” towards their allies, which included the Seven Warlords; and every year the invite would show up at your doorstep only to be promptly thrown out by your introverted husband.

”can we please go? i miss going for social events like these.” you’d pleaded that night in bed, hugging his arm tightly as you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck—a move he liked to call ‘playing dirty. “just this once to see what it’s like, then i’ll never ask again.”

both you and Mihawk knew it was a lie but the swordsman was nothing if not a simp for you so he begrudgingly agreed.

”care to elaborate why?” you challenge, taking the two marines aback if their surprised expressions are anything to go by. clearly not used to ‘civilians’ talking back to them, they take a moment to gather their thoughts—and at least have enough decency to look embarrassed at being called out.

”w-well—”

“your wife is such a chatterbox! it’s a wonder you’ve tolerated her for as long as you have!”

”your husband is whom? forgive me, i find that hard to believe.”

”i thought he was some kind of recluse?”

”maybe it was an arranged marriage. how scandalous.”

”i pity the poor man. all my husband does is talk and it drives me insane some days.”

”darling?” a deep familiar voice calls out from behind you, accompanied by the sound of heeled shoes clicking against stone. before you can turn around, you feel his warm hand rest itself on your shoulder, the comforting heat of his body engulfing you from behind. “i’ve been looking for you.”

the blood drains from both the marine officers’ faces, their eyes widening in shock as it dawns on them what a mistake they’ve just made. as though pleading for mercy, the eyes of the larger man flickers in your direction, almost screaming: “please, i’m too young to die.”

”were these men giving you trouble?” Mihawk probes gently, using his other hand to tilt your head in his direction. the moment his eyes meet your own and widen ever so slightly, you know there’s no point lying. as much as you’ve been able to hold back your tears of frustration well enough to fool the average man, your husband is anything but average.

mouths still agape, the marine officers can do nothing but watch as the notorious swordsman proceeds to cup your face with his right hand in a manner so tender they can’t help but suspect he’s an imposter. unbothered by the unbelieving stares sent his way, Mihawk brushes his thumb under your eye as though to confirm his suspicion.

”they were but it’s okay now,” you finally reply, placing your hand over his to hold it in place as you relish in the comforting warmth of his palm.

”what did you do to my wife?” he disregards your subtle plea for peacemaking. he knows you well enough to infer that you simply don’t want him to make a scene for the sake of maintaining his public image. 

Mihawk’s aware of how much you actually enjoy silently watching him defend your pride and honour; and he also knows from experience how happily you’ll reward him with your honeyed words and sweet touches later tonight, when it’s just the two of you alone together. it concerns him, slightly, if he were to be honest, how easily you have him wrapped around your finger—but that’s something to think about another day. 

the marines stutter and stammer but nothing coherent leaves their lips, all linguistic ability fading into nothing under the angered gaze of the Warlord.

”be thankful my beloved is as kind as she is,” the swordsman warns, all the while maintaining his hardened glare. “know that had she not vouched for you two, i’d have no problem killing you right where you stand.”

—

taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots

[alwaysshallow]

Isa baby please can we have ghost be told NO for some work stuff by higher ranked! Reader and him to be like

🤪🤪 why does this make me horny 🤪🤪

You’re mad as hell.

You should say something to him after ordering him to go to your office, you know it. You should address all the things that irritate you right now, but you physically can’t bring yourself to it—not when your desire is to bite into his throat. It’s not leader-ish, it’s not you since you never scream at your team. Yet, you have to clench your fists, so they won’t land on his pretty face.

“Won’t you even look at me?” he asks, and somehow it makes you even more mad at him. A low laugh escapes your mouth, as you shake your head with disbelief. His audacity is fucking insane.

As you look up at him, you can’t help but notice the way he just smirks under that simple balaclava he has. It’s almost arrogant in a way, like he’s completely unfazed by your emotions and what he did.

"You disobeyed my orders," you speak up, slowly, deliberately—it’s the only way of speaking that won’t have you screaming at him. “Then, you proceed to lead the entire team under your command, even if I told you otherwise.”

His brown eyes harden a little, but he’s not less amused, as he takes a step forward in your direction. "I did what I thought fit for the situation," Simon says. Riley’s tone is insistent, not leaving a pole in a discussion; a great leader trait, you'd normally think of it.

But right now, this tone makes you furious because he’s not the leader. He’s someone that should obey, someone that shouldn’t even question your choices on the battlefield since you are the one giving orders. Not him.

“Right. Completely putting people at risk, instead of backing out despite we had everything,” you grit through your teeth. The next words you want to say are tough, so you clean your throat and take a deep breath before actually saying them. “You’re off the mission.”

The atmosphere between you two can be cut with the knife. Not only he doesn’t speak to you for a good minute, but he looks at you with a confused look in his eyes. “What the fuck?”

Of course he’d react this way, you think. Nothing new, nothing surprising—at least not with Simon Riley. “I can’t have you sabotaging my mission because you did something that fit the situation.”

“Sabotaging your mission,” he laughs. You lean against the wall when he takes another few steps in your direction, and you tilt your head at him for a better view. “It fits the situation because ‘m savin’ your bloody ass, colonel.”

“I don’t remember asking for it.” You furrow your eyebrows, trying to calm down. It’s hard enough with being mad at him, but even harder when he's chest to chest proximity, towering over you.

“You don’t have to ask. I’ll do it anyway, whether you want it or not.” He shrugs; for a moment, your words die in your throat.

Whether you want it or not.

You shouldn’t feel so hot and bothered right now. Yet, you can’t really help it, as he leans down to your eye level, so you don’t have to have your chin up anymore.

“Should take you off missions with me, then?” you ask. It’s obvious that the question startles him a bit, as he scoffs.

“You can’t do that, love. Wouldn’t do you any good, would it?”

“As far as I remember, I call the shots. Not you, so I’d be careful.”

He hums, completely ignoring the slight warning in your words; his eyes drop to your lips, like he doesn’t care about anything you said before. “I want to kiss you.”

You roll your eyes, ignoring the heat radiating all over your face. “I could have you suspended for insubordination right here, right now, lieutenant, and you think about—”

You don’t get to finish that sentence, as he pulls his balaclava a little over his nose and he pushes his lips into yours. Forceful kiss at first, evolves into the mutual battle of domination; maybe it’s the rank type of thing considering how eagerly you fight, but you can’t do it for long. Not when his hands lands on your hips and your back hits the wall

“I don’t think,” he pants out, his lips still against yours, “that you get how I care about you. You want to piss me off and send me off the mission? Do it. But I’ll be here anyway.”

“I could call the general on you,” you squeak weakly, as he picks you up and sits you on your desk.

“Then fuckin’ do it,” he growls, looking into your eyes—you do not look away, under any circumstances. It would only grow his ego bigger. “No one could protect you like I do. I’m on your command and you like it.”

The evident cockiness in his voice has you trembling, not to mention the lips on your cleavage, as he kisses the skin here. “On my command? You’d do whatever I want you to do?”

He smirks, lazily. “Isn’t that what I just said, love?”

You bite your lip more; it’s gonna be a bloody mess here in a minute, but you can’t care less right now. “Take off the mask,” you say. He tilts his head like a puppy, confused, as his back straightens. “You’re not fucking with me with this thing on.”

And oh, how quickly he throws his balaclava behind him, not even caring about where it lands. It's just your words that get him, the way you're so sure when you say it. It doesn't take him long to get rid of your pants either, kneeling right in front of you.

"'m gonna take," he murmurs to your thigh, gnawing at the skin, "such a good care of you, love. Gonna make this pussy all mine."

It takes one swipe of his tongue to know that he's right.

[toxycodone]

hey so what if. curly thought that his favourite crewmate was at least a little experienced and then found out that they actually haven't even kissed before. like maybe if he overheard daisuke making fun of them for it. what then 👁️

ship. captain grant mccurley x reader

content. power imbalance, curly calls you kiddo but you aren’t his kid

“You’ve really never kissed anyone before?”

This was not the type of late night conversation you expected to be having with your fucking boss, but alas, the stars aligned and hexed you stupid, it seems. Curly’s blue eyes practically glow despite the dim lighting in the common room, peering at you with gentle amusement.

You shift in your seat. Suddenly the couch isn’t comfortable anymore.

“No…being on hauls back to back doesn’t give me much time to date and stuff…”

You answer, scrambling for any sort of excuse. It’s genuinely embarrassing. Why has someone your age never kissed anyone yet? Ridiculous. Now Curly probably really thinks you’re some fucking kid.

“I know, it’s weird. Daisuke already made fun of me enough, so please…just drop it.”

The blonde chuckles—deep and gravely as it rolls in his chest. He’s an insomniac, but he still gets that sexy ‘just woke up’ tone this late in the evening.

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed. It’s cute, really. Someone your age still being so pure…that’s rare.”

That familiar feeling of heat starts to burn your cheeks. Oh God. It’s not just from embarrassment anymore. Curly finding it cute…it makes you wanna explode.

“Seriously? You don’t think I’m, like, weird?”

Of course he wouldn’t. Curly’s your captain. Confidant. Friend. At least that’s what he’s made himself out to be. This pseudo-fatherly figure that you can always rely on. The one that’s there for you. Takes care of you.

He shakes his head.

“Not at all.”

His hand’s on your knee.

“Were you waiting for someone special? I mean, a first kiss is a big milestone,”

It’s moving up your thigh. You don’t question it. It’s Curly. He can touch you like this. He doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s comforting you.

You consider his question. Were you waiting for someone special? Or had you been so consumed in work you just never had the time to grow outside of pursuing your career? It’s probably a mix of both. Curly’s been at this job for over a decade, yet he’s definitely managed to kiss a plethora of people. And with a body like that, you bet he even has quite a few notches on his bedpost too.

Would he want to add another?

That thought’s admonished when he gives the fat of your thigh a squeeze. You swallow, but your throat’s dry.

“I mean…I guess.” His gaze pierces through you, causing a shiver to run down your spine. The boring screen full of stars is now quite interesting.

“I just, I don’t know, I—“

“I can show you how to kiss.” It’s offered as casually as a handshake. “So you know what to do when you find the right one.”

This isn’t something a captain should offer his subordinate. Nevertheless, one that affectionately refers to you as kiddo. You’ve called him dad before, either on accident or on purpose—that you aren’t sure. There’s layers of nuance to this situation that makes it inherently wrong. But it’s dangled in front of you like a treat.

“Really…?”

Obedient as ever, you take it despite the risks.

Aren’t you well trained?

But what else is he for? If not to teach you, his favorite crewmate, his sweet little kiddo, everything they need to know to succeed?

“Of course.” The hint of Southern drawl in his sultry tone is enough to rid your inhibitions. You’re drawn to the soft, pink curve of his lip as he leans forward. Your chin’s gently cradled by his index finger and thumb, the callouses on them now hyperaware to your senses.

“It’s easy.” His eyes lock on yours. “You just close your eyes, then pucker your lips.”

You try to follow these instructions, prompting a laugh from Curly.

“Cute. But try to relax, okay?”

It’s hard. You feel his breath on your lips, and it makes you shake like a leaf. He’s so close to you that you can feel the heat radiating off his body.

Curly’s lips touch yours. It’s soft. For such a large, imposing man, the kiss is chaste and sweet. There’s so much care put into the gesture, a testament to Curly’s personality. A shock runs through you, but you find yourself easing into the kiss and relaxing.

His other hand, the one not perched on your thigh and kneading the flesh, moves to cradle the back of your head. This feels like a fantasy. How you’d imagine a leading man would kiss the object of his desire. So much passion exists in such a tiny gesture, your heart feels like it’s going to pop in your chest.

And then, it’s over. When his body moves from yours, you still feel in a daze. Your heavy eyelids open slowly to be met with Curly’s half-lidded ones. He’s close enough you could count his golden lashes if you wanted.

“See? Nothin’ to it, right?”

Curly’s beaming. And even more obnoxiously, the simulated moonlight is highlighting his masculine features in all the right areas. You’re starting to feel dizzy.

Curly’s thumb graces your bottom lip.

“With a little more practice, you’re sure to be a natural.”

How could you say no?

[signedamaryllis]

Naberius Kalego NSFW Headcanons

Fandom: Welcome to demon school! Iruma-kun

Pairing: Naberius Kalego x Reader

Type: Headcanons

C/TW: MDNI, 18+, NSFW, Kalego is a bottom

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ I can definitely see and understand why people see him as a dom top but honestly he’s such a bottom. And a subby one at that.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Is really stubborn and tsundere about it

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ When you’re riding his large cock on the bed though, he’s trying to be quiet to make it seem like he’s not as excited to be a bottom—but he is; he whimpers

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He wants you to mark him up with hickeys, bites, and scratches but you must keep it below the neck—don’t want anyone at work raising a brow at what he does in his free time at home with you

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ likes marking you up, usually with hickeys and small bruises from his hands gripping your hips a little too firmly when you’re riding him

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Also will only do it in the privacy of his or your home. If you live with others or in an apartment though, his place more often than not since he lives alone in a mansion and can be loud without worry of anyone hearing

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Will probably either grip your hips while you ride or the sheets

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ If you don’t have a dick…pegging is a possibility. Which also means penetration is on the table 👀

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ I don’t see him as the type to get laid with someone as a one night stand or so early in a relationship. Honestly you’d have to wait, especially when consider how much of a subby bottom he is—he has to know he can fully 100% trust you

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He can top but he’s more so pleasing you, doing things how you like and he probably wouldn’t be so fast or rough

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Appeal to the dog in him 👀 call him things like “good boy”, please. Praise this man. Do not degrade him, he needs the praise!

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He has a love hate thing with getting sucked off. On one hand it feels amazing but on the other he feels it degrades you somehow and he doesn’t like that. Especially when it comes to swallowing his cum; it’s a love hate thing. You swallowing it feels degrading in some way but if you spit it out it makes him feel a little upset. It’s a lose lose situation really.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ if you got a pussy to eat out however? He loves to do it, very passionately, gets really into it. He’s not a dom but when eating pussy he will keep you there until your legs are trembling and give out.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Got a dick or strap on for him to suck? He’s really tsundere about it but would do it, sucking the life out of it, even if it’s plastic. It’s probably weirdly therapeutic for him after a long day of headaches and work. Would drool on it. 100%.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Aftercare is 50/50

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ either the best aftercare where you both lay cuddled up together, sweaty and maybe take a shower together and eat/drink something together. Perhaps watch some television, put on his favourite classical music composer

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ or he gets really embarrassed about aftercare and would prefer to clean up and immediately go do something on his own to cool down. Don’t take it too personally though, he just feels weirdly embarrassed looking at you after you just fucked his brains out and now are wanting to be loving with him. It’s like a 180 for him lol

I’ve been wanting to make this side blog for the longest time and to express how much of a fucking bottom this man is and here we are!! Finally!!!

[sewersewersewercouch]

Microphone and ADHD: yet another very rambly analysis

GUESS WHO’S WRITING LONG TUMBLR POSTS ABOUT MIC AGAIN!!!!

i’ve been trying to formulate this post in my brain for a while and i’m finally writing it. I should add a disclaimer here: while i’ve done my own research for this, i’m also mostly writing from my own experience, which a) obviously every case of adhd is different, and b) while adhd is my only diagnosis at present, there are various other things that i’m questioning and in the process of being evaluated for which might also bleed into my experiences with adhd. If there are any issues please feel free to point them out! Also i don’t want to imply that if you don’t have adhd you can’t relate to mic, i’m just discussing the things i personally am seeing in canon. Also also, if this is weird and disjointed and rambly, well, you signed up to read a very long post by someone from adhd about blorbo from their shows.

I think what first comes to mind with Mic and ADHD traits for me is her impulsivity. This is something we see trip her up again and again—for example, when she yells at Fan in Tri Your Best, not considering how the noise could boost him into the air and ahead of her, or in Mazed and Confused, when she calls after Knife in the maze without realizing that Test Tube is in there as well. (And yes, she didn’t hear Baseball say that Test Tube was in there, but if she’d thought before she’d acted she might have considered looking around to make sure there were no Bright Lights missing as well.) Hell, another example I noticed was that during Mine Your Own Business, when Taco and Knife are arguing, Mic physically shoves Knife into the gem, and like, not gently, either—he slams into it pretty hard. It’s been pretty well established at this point that Mic is very averse to physical violence, and she definitely wouldn’t do anything like that intentionally, but the fact of the matter is, when she’s stressed like that, she just kind of makes a snap action without using her head.

This also ties into my second point, her difficulties with emotional regulation, which is something that’s very common with ADHD. I kind of struggle to describe how this shows up in Mic, because honestly, a lot of her seemingly overblown reactions are more of a “straw that breaks the camel’s back” type of situation where she takes so much shit from her teammates that obviously, who wouldn’t be upset? However, I do think it’s fair to say that she’s someone who’s quite easily frustrated, and can have a tendency to lash out quite harshly when she’s in this state. For example, in A Kick In The Right Direction, she’s pissed off about being relegated to goalie, which is fair, but she takes this out on Dough, who wasn’t involved in this decision, just because he happens to be near her, and she’s, like…pretty mean about it, too? Like, when he says he’s bored she says “so am I but not enough to talk to you” and then later flat out tells him to jump off a bridge. Yes, this second one was after he was distracting her and the Bright Lights got a goal past her, but still, it does feel like a pretty dramatic reaction. Especially as in general, Mic’s demeanor is friendly and outgoing, she clearly is someone who cares a lot about others’ well-being, and she’s just a nice person all around, but when something gets under her skin she’s immediately on the defensive and says stuff like this.

Also, just in general, Mic is very outwardly emotional. It’s one of the ways the narrative contrasts her with Taco, who for much of the story is incapable of giving up her facade, whereas Microphone is incapable of not wearing her heart on her sleeve. You can usually at any given time tell from Mic’s expressions and tone exactly what she’s feeling. This is especially noticeable as she’s frequently in a position where she has to lie, and she is…not good at it. Some of the time she falls back on the aforementioned defensiveness—for example, in Alternate Reality Show, when Suitcase asks what she’s painting and she replies, “Uh, zilch! Why are you picking today to talk to me for the first time ever?” and when Knife immediately after asks why she was late, she says, “I got other places to be? What’s it to you?” A lot of the time, though, she just gets all nervous and awkward. Adorable, undeniably, but not helpful when she’s in the position she’s in. (I was very charmed to find that she keeps this trait even after the game, what with her telling Taco to act natural and then going “Heyyyyy!!!! I, uh, found someone! :))))” as if that’s at all acting natural. Never change.) Mic feels everything very strongly, and she can’t naturally hide that like Taco can.

I also wanted to bring up Mic’s extreme sensitivity to negative feedback, or what’s often referred to as Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria—which, yes, I know that isn’t actually technically a diagnostic trait, but I would say it’s kind of an offshoot of emotional dysregulation combined with a response to being ostracised for being neurodivergent in a shitty ableist world. A lot of the time when Mic shows the traits I’ve mentioned here, and they trip her up, her teammates show her very little patience and compassion. (Baseball and Nickel are particularly guilty of this—Cheesy does it as well, but he also apologizes to her and it seems like they get along afterwards. Baseball, however, will be on thin ice until I hear a goddamn apology from him.) And while she tends to respond to their disparagement with anger externally, as mentioned above, it also clearly really upsets her in a deeper way. For all the amount she takes it out on others, she takes it out on herself tenfold: look at the words she uses to describe herself in her diary. “Annoying, harmful, random, useless, insignificant, loser.” This treatment, along with her previously mentioned sensitive emotions, make her very reactive to any form of perceived criticism or failure. Even in the finale, when she’s been through her own arc and had a while to heal from the toxic environment of the show, the image shown in the red line game shows that this is still what upsets her the most—the idea of being ignored and rejected by others.

I think this also goes the other way—she’s so sick of being disparaged that it turns into a desperation for approval and connection. This is kind of the foundation of her entire arc. I noticed this one moment in Mazed and Confused, where Taco offers to help her out and Mic says “Really? You would help me out?” as though she’s completely shocked by the idea of someone offering her help. Which makes sense—the only person who’s actually been there for her is Soap. And one could ask, why does Mic stay in her alliance with Taco? Clearly she realizes, deep down, that what she’s doing is unethical. Mic is someone who has a strong moral code that I think in most circumstances she’d care about more than the money. (Yes, I know, I know, the twist, but it’s been proven several times that contestants are more than capable of putting other things above the game. Look at Marshmallow, Clover, Lightbulb, and obviously, eventually Mic herself!) But I don’t think what keeps her pushing her cognitive dissonance down is actually anything about the money. It’s the approval she gets. Baseball, who as I’ve said is normally quite hard on her, compliments her when she does something right as a result of her cheating, and in so doing cements in her mind that cheating=people liking her. She also gets approval from Taco, which fuels this even more. And as this alliance goes on, it transforms into…well, I don’t know if I’d call it a friendship, per se, but it seems that Mic really does value Taco’s company and wants to connect with her on a more personal level, rather than just as a means to an end. This just muddies matters further, as Mic now has not only approval at stake, but also one of the few actual relationships she has in the game. It takes Taco killing two people in front of her for her to decide that’s not worth it.

I think I maybe got a little sidetracked from my point there, as I am very much wont to do, but I think this leads Mic to display some kinds of masking behavior. One facet of this is politeness/friendliness—and this is not to say that Mic isn’t genuinely an outgoing, friendly person. In my own experience, masking isn’t as cut and dry as “not acting like yourself”---rather, it’s often more putting certain, more socially acceptable aspects of one’s personality forward and suppressing the less acceptable ones. Her politeness also comes off as very stilted to me. For example, in Theft and Battery, where she says, “Guys, not to sound rude, but didn’t MePhone5S and 5C just try to kill MePhone4? Didn't this guy create them? Why would he support us if he just tried to kill us?” It seems like a weird thing to have to tack “not to sound rude” onto—it’s a completely valid and truthful point. But she’s so used to being perceived as rude that it seems she feels like she has to say that. There’s also another example I already talked about in a different post but will go back over here—in Mine Your Own Business, when Mic and Taco are trying to sneak past Knife, but Mic sneezes and then follows it up with “Sorry! ‘Scuse me!” Which, as Taco points out, isn’t something people normally do. And immediately Mic falls back on her other defense mechanism, lashing out. If you listen to what she’s saying when they’re arguing, it’s “What was I supposed to say, ‘bless me’ and bless myself? You’re the one who’s always trying to be proper, what’s your problem?” I think this moment says a lot about her—when she knows she’s messed up, she tries to cover for it with politeness, but she also doesn’t quite get the social rules right. It’s very much something that’s put on, not that comes naturally to her. (This is where I realized she has many parallels with my other favorite Cabby, but that’s a whole different can of worms.)

However, she also masks in kind of the other direction, that is, putting others down to boost herself up. The Grand Slams are not the healthiest of teams, to put it lightly, and Mic mimics the behavior she sees in others that brings them social success. For example, when she jokes to Baseball about not wanting to “pull a Balloon—” Balloon being unpopular as he is, she knows other people will find mocking him funny. And it works! Baseball laughs! She tries this again later, when she says to Knife “talk about emotional baggage” in regards to Suitcase, but this time he doesn’t respond well. Mic seems genuinely surprised at this—this method has worked for her before, so she’s put off by the fact that it doesn’t work this time. And I should say—this isn’t something Taco tells her to do. She does it entirely of her own volition.

Actually, looking at this more, it seems more like part of something she mostly does during her alliance with Taco—an unaffected, jokey front she tends to put on when she’s lying or messing with people, to…limited success, as discussed earlier, but I think she also uses it when she’s lying to herself, or trying to convince herself that what she or Taco is doing isn’t wrong. I had a few examples in mind. The first is in Kick the Bucket, right after the Nickel and Balloon double elimination, when she says, “Well, ha, what a lively experience! Well, not much to gain from sitting around and doing nothing. See ya!” It’s oddly nonchalant when clearly everyone around her is upset, and we see her look concerned for a second beforehand before she goes into this. I interpret that as her…kind of seeing that what just happened messed things up for a lot of people and that it was her fault, but she’s not ready to accept that truth yet. She also uses this affect throughout Mine Your Own Business—both with Taco, as an attempt to get her to open up, and with Knife, I think in some ways trying to mimic what Taco did to recruit her in order to do the same with him. Neither of these are successful. Knife being Knife, he’s someone who’s very able to see right through people (figuratively speaking, that is, because now people can literally see right through him! Get it? Because he’s a ghost? Please imagine the sound of Cheesy slapping his knee from somewhere in the distance). He plants seeds of doubt in Mic’s mind by telling her about Pickle—and she’s still not ready for those seeds to grow, but they certainly are there. In fact, the next time we see her use this behavior, it’s in Hatching the Plan, when she jokes that Taco will “inevitably drop me too or whatever.” She says it casually, but clearly what Knife said is still on her mind, and she’s trying to convince herself that what happened to Pickle won’t happen to her even though she doesn’t at all believe herself. I also think looking at this behavior has really clarified my view of her in the movie—at first I was frustrated at how she seemed much more calm and collected than I would have expected her to, both about the general horrors happening to everyone, and specifically about Taco. I talked about those criticisms in another post, and I do still stand by them to some extent, I would have written her differently. But I don’t think it’s as incongruent with her character as I did before—in fact, I think there’s plenty of precedent for her masking like that in situations of greatly conflicted emotion. (Oddly enough, I think it’s something she has in common with Taco, but Taco’s just better with it.) I kind of doubt she was quite mentally ready to reconnect with Taco yet, but in such a dire situation she doesn’t have time to process all that, so she just kind of shoves that to the back of her brain. Not to say that I don’t think she genuinely cares for Taco, but I do think there’s a lot of processing she hasn’t done yet about her that will hopefully be a topic of discussion later please please please AE please for me???? Anyways, I do think this is a response to her aforementioned emotional dysregulation tending to create problems for her, and it’s definitely a masking technique in my eyes.

I also want to touch briefly on Microphone and Soap’s friendship, because while it’s not evidence for my point exactly, per se, I do think it’s relevant. While unfortunately pretty stereotypical representation, I would say it’s generally considered true that Soap is coded as having OCD. Now I’m not going to say that all neurodivergent people can easily be friends with one another, I know that’s not true. However, looking at the scene we see with the two of them in Rain On Your Charade, it certainly plays a part in this specific friendship. Mic helps Soap cope with her compulsions, and Soap is the only person at this time who really values Mic and doesn’t see her as a burden just because she’s accident-prone.

One minor thing I also wanted to point out was how it’s pretty common for people with ADHD to struggle with controlling our voices, including the tone, speed, and…well, volume. I can’t count the amount of times I’ve had people tell me that I’m talking loudly and I didn’t even realize it. I trust I don’t have to explain how this point is relevant to Mic, and it does very much fit.

There was one specific line that inspired me to write this post, from Everything’s A-OJ: “I’m trying harder than anyone else, so why do I always lose?” One of the diagnostic traits for ADHD is described as making “careless mistakes” in activities, and I never have particularly loved that phrasing. It may look careless on the outside, because it’s often mistakes that other people can easily avoid, but when you have a disorder that affects your attention, impulse control, memory, executive function, et cetera et cetera et cetera, you doing your best might look like someone else half-assing it. Not to get too personal on my blorbo post, but I keep thinking about this one teacher I had in middle school who, when I messed something up in a class, said “oh, that’s such a Clonnie move!” I’m sure she doesn’t remember that, but I do, because when you hear over and over again that people associate you with making mistakes, that shit sticks with you, and eventually when nothing you do helps you start to feel like you’re the mistake. That’s why Mic as a character resonates with me so much. God willing AnimationEpic will bring my girl back because I would like to see how Mic heals from that mindset as time goes on and where she goes from here.

[sugrhigh]

BOY NEXT DOOR 9 - ( c.s )

part eight

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- angst, swearing, i think that’s it

a/n: i’m back my little goblins let’s get it!!!! part ten of this series will be the final part, and then i plan on writing an ‘epilogue’ type chapter to wrap it all up. i’m hoping to have them up as quickly as possible, but ive been absolutely slammed so im sorry if it takes me a minute. i love u always and i’ve missed being on here so i hope you enjoy <3

(if you asked to be tagged in the last part and weren’t tagged it’s bcs it wouldn’t let me!! i’m so sorry i tried my hardest)

to be let down, you have to expect something from someone. it’s a mistake you’ve made far too frequently in your years on earth, especially in college, but this time around the grief is debilitating.

you spend the rest of your weekend locked inside your room, attempting to sleep away the heartbreak. somehow dreaming almost makes it worse; for a second you’re able to forget about being completely humiliated, until you wake up in reality once more.

it doesn’t help that chris has been absolutely blowing up your phone since the moment you left. every call and text goes unanswered. it’s impossible to read them, so most of the time you don’t.

hell, you can’t even open your curtains because you’re too scared that he’ll be looking back at you when you do. so you block out the sunlight, ensuring that your room matches your dreary feelings.

you figure he’ll give up on trying to talk to you eventually. you’re not different. he’s not different. and once chris regains that pride of his, he’ll go right back to fucking some other girl he won’t care about half as much.

thoughts like those make you cry even harder, as much as you hate it. but you know the disinterest will wash over him sooner or later, and you resent that inevitable day.

cassidy and ramona check on you pretty much every other hour. it makes you feel even worse that they’re so concerned, but neither of them have ever seen you like this. at least not since freshman year, when you dated an upperclassman for a couple months just for him to dump you over text.

even that heartache was relatively short-lived. but this pain follows you into the week, trailing behind you like a shadow you can’t get rid of. it sits beside you in class, curls up next to you in bed, weighs your shoulders down whenever you walk.

it feels like you’re struggling to stay afloat, to even act like a real human anymore. chris consumes your brain, and so do the ‘what if’s’ of your situation. it makes the week drag on, even though you try to spend most of it asleep.

to make matters worse, his multiple notifications continue with a routine consistency, almost like clockwork. you figured he’d already be over it, but he clearly doesn’t want to make himself easy to forget.

you have to admit that you’re glad his persistence lasted at least this long, even if it’s for selfish reasons. you’re disgusted that the attention satisfies you, but it’s not an unwelcome change considering all you’ve been feeling lately is queasy.

still, you don’t read them, or pick up when he calls. you can’t hear his voice, because you know it’ll absolutely break you.

and then finally, on friday, you see him in the flesh. you’re walking home from your bus stop after the only lecture you managed to get to that day, and there he is, getting out of his car.

your throat seizes up; there’s no way to avoid this. it’s easy to ice someone out over text, but it’s a hell of a lot harder when he’s your neighbor.

before you can snap your head away he’s turning to look in your direction, eyes equally as wide as yours once the recognition washes over him. he looks like shit, and yet he’s still so goddamn beautiful it makes you physically sick.

for a brief moment, everything stops. you just stare at each other.

chris takes in you in, the way you look noticeably drained. he feels that familiar nauseous pang in his stomach flare up, knowing that he stole the spark from your eyes.

the worst part is that you’ll never look at him with that fire again. there’s nothing he can do to bring it back now, no way to reverse the past.

then—before he can decide what to do in the present—you break the spell, cutting through your other neighbor’s lawn to get to your front porch. everything in him wants to run after you, so much so that he has to physically restrain himself.

you hear him calling after you, and something about him shouting your name stirs the tears awake once more. but you make it through the door before they fall, because you can’t show any more vulnerability than you already have.

getting inside doesn’t mean that you make it up the stairs, though. the physical and emotional exhaustion catches up to you, and you collapse around halfway through your blurry climb to your room.

your elbows dig into your kneecaps, hands holding your head while you sob. it seems impossible to catch your breath, or calm down in the slightest, and your cries only grow louder.

normally you’d be careful about the noise, but there’s no one to hide from right now. nobody is home. it’s just you and your thoughts, which, as always, are full of him.

you may be able to push him out of your life, but you have a feeling he’ll be lingering in the corners of your mind forever.

the post-game locker room mood is completely miserable tonight. after that last minute loss and the thirty minute bitch-session they just endured from their coach, it honestly should be.

chris barely even has his skates off before his teammates are all over him, which he expected but still dreaded.

his head’s not in it, and everybody knows.

“what the fuck is wrong with you, man? it’s like you’re not even awake out there.” one of the team’s leading defensemen, luke, yanks him up by his jersey roughly.

for a second he pauses, setting his jaw and puffing his chest out slightly. the accusation, though it’s not completely untrue, pisses him off.

so much so that chris retaliates by shoving him back to his rightful place a foot away. “get the hell off of me, man.”

luke looks like he’s ready to jump into action again, but connor steps in between before anything else can happen. he’s also very visibly angry, a side that doesn’t come out often.

and just because he stopped a physical fight from breaking out doesn’t mean he’s going to stay silent. “he’s right. you’re playing like shit, and we‘re way too far into the season to be blowing it now, especially with selection show right around the corner.”

chris can feel his blood is boiling at this point, knowing that even his roommate is going to support this kind of disrespect towards his own captain. the rest of the team is watching silently, but he can’t find it anywhere in himself to care.

the words have already bubbled up, and he won’t hold them back anymore.

“oh come on, it’s not like anyone else was stepping up! dylan turned the puck over every other play, ben was offside during that odd man rush, and don’t even get me started on you and the high sticking penalty that just lost us that fucking game.” he shoves his pointer finger against connor’s chest for emphasis, trying to make sure his criticism stings as much as possible.

but his friend is quick to swat his hand away, shaking his head once sharply.

“no, you don’t get to turn it on everyone else. you lost it for us during that sorry excuse of a penalty kill. you let that little UMass shit go right by you, which is why he had a wide open shot to score the game winner. you’ve been making dumb mistakes like that for two weeks now, and we all know why.”

that implication is enough to send chris over the edge, because nobody has the right to mention what happened between you and him. knowing about the situation doesn’t mean they should get to speak on it.

he can feel his fingernails digging into his palms, both hands balled into tight fists at his side. the anger coursing through his body makes him shake ever so slightly, almost like he’s humming.

“keep going and i’ll bust your fucking face in.” chris says, voice eerily calm despite the fact that his body is screaming.

but connor doesn’t back down; he stands tall with an unwavering gaze that’s more serious than ever before. “you gotta grow a pair and start being our captain again. you fucked up, and losing someone you’re actually into because of that sucks. most of us have been there. but trying to throw everyone under the bus is bullshit when you’re the one that needs to get it together.”

nothing about his words are intentionally meant to hurt, and chris knows that, but for some reason they do. probably because he doesn’t want to hear the truth, or start coming to terms with the fact that he actually did lose you.

he really doesn’t ever want to accept it.

but his ego won’t let him say that. instead, chris shifts his gaze to observe the rest of the room, at all of his teammates, before focusing on connor once again.

“if you don’t think that i’m your captain anymore then find a new one.” he spits.

the room somehow gets even more quiet; everyone is stunned by the out-of-character reaction. for the most part, chris really is a good leader. they all voted for him to represent the team when it came time, and the group dynamic has been great since then.

but he doesn’t feel like that guy now. he’s not sure who he is anymore. so he throws the rest of his equipment into his bag and yanks it over his shoulder.

“really, chris?” it’s ben this time, who’s clearly dumbfounded by the theatrics.

he doesn’t respond, and he tries not to hesitate too much as he makes his way out of the locker room. everyone lets him pass, which makes it even harder to leave.

it feels so wrong, but his feet keep pushing him forward regardless.

when chris finally makes it home twenty minutes later, the frustration has only festered. he doesn’t like anything he’s doing, and yet it’s spiraling out of his control. by the time he gets to his room, tears of aggravation have made their way down his face.

he wipes them away harshly as he stares out his window at your room, which is still closed off by your curtains. it’s like his heart seizes up just from being this close to you, knowing that you’re in there yet he can’t reach you.

and maybe that’s the problem. chris loves hockey, but at the end of the day he clearly loves you more. and with things the way that they are, his heart is fully wrapped up in you, not the game.

it’s terrifying, and it’s painful. he never thought that there’d be anyone to test his bachelor lifestyle until you came around, and he can’t just go back to normal because he doesn’t know how.

he’s been permanently changed, and it feels like a huge part of his new life is suddenly missing.

you saw the deepest parts of him, parts that he didn’t even know existed, and he saw the same side of you. you challenged him in ways he’d never experienced, and he loved that he always felt like he was evolving when you were together.

now he just feels stagnant, unsure of himself.

the only thing he’s sure of is that he needs you, whether that makes him inconsiderate or not. he can’t keep sleepwalking through life, but he’s not sure what else there is to do.

simply put, he misses you like hell. so he lays back in bed and closes his eyes, trying to remember what it felt like to have you right beside him.

@fawnchives @l9vesick @55sturn @luverboychris @teapartyprincess4two @pinksturniolo @mattinside @stonermattsgf @impureals @chrisactualwife @fikefries @riasturns @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @orangeypepsi @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @rubyjanexxx @reallykaz @neatcarrot767 @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts @stunza @beccaluvschris @asturniolos @slutz4sturniolos @mattslolita @alorsxsturn @sturnrc @chrissystur @kellsbells-18 @realqueenofpepsi @snowysosturn @secretfangirly @scarlettbitches @satvisfavetoodles

[halfadiamond]

Puppy Love- Chapter Three

Formerly known as Lost Dog

Masterlist

For Johnny, he’s been through many tough missions. From missions where his life, or the lives of others, depended on the outcome. Those missions constantly surrounded him with gunfire and shouting. You could describe any type of military mission and he’s probably been through it.

But this?

Where he’s crouched at Simon’s front door because Simon did (unfortunately) take back the key, picking at the lock, slightly hoping nobody calls the police on him or that Simon doesn’t come home unexpectedly.

This has to be one of the hardest missions he’s ever been on.

He’s silently cursing at himself for being an obedient child growing up, taking his mother’s promises to heart and never disobeying. Because now, he’s stuck listening to a video with one ear bud in his ear, trying hard to listen to the person in the video detail how to pick a lock.

The other ear is filled with the constant barking from the other side of the door. Johnny’s seen Riley out on missions, jumping on the enemies and biting their arms, and before he would’ve praised Riley for being a wonderful dog.

But now? Where to Riley, Johnny is considered the enemy for trying to break into his house.

Johnny wants to abort the mission and tell you the truth. That he doesn’t have a dog, and he’s just a man in love.

You seemed nice enough. Maybe you would forgive him and you two could still get to know each other. But the only reason he’s in this situation is because he offered to help train your dog. If he told you the truth, then you might’ve left and went looking for an actual dog trainer.

It’s while he’s considering his options that he hears the door click and he uses the knob to slowly open the door. Before he fully opens the door, he gives the video a quick thumbs up and opens it.

He braces himself for a dog attack where he’ll endure the same treatment that Princess gives him. But it never comes. Instead, Riley begins wagging his tail and wiggling his body slightly, letting out quick barks.

Johnny was glad. Glad because he should’ve remembered that Riley was trained, Princess wasn’t, no matter how much Kyle tried convincing him. You can’t train the devil.

Johnny shut the door and gave Riley some pats as he eyed his surroundings.

Coast was clear.

No obvious obstructions in his vicinity.

The target, the leash and harness, were visible and within arms reach.

Just what Johnny needed. He’s somewhat glad that Simon is such a simple man as he makes a quick reach for the target.

“You wanna go fur a wee walk?”

Johnny said in a playful voice. He didn’t even wait to hear or see Riley’s reaction as he put the harness on him and clipped the leash.

Riley didn’t have a choice. Johnny was a lovesick puppy, and Riley was going to be his wing dog.

It was quick. Grabbing anything that Riley would’ve needed, such as a portable water bowl and the dog poop bags and they were off. Walking towards the park to meet you and Lucky.

—

Riley meeting Lucky was like two long-lost friends meeting again.

The two dog tails hadn’t stopped wagging since they met each other nor when they were walking side by side.

You were amazed by Lucky’s good behavior when he met Riley. Riley walked very confidently and when you looked over at Johnny, you could see how relaxed he was when walking Riley. Like he knew that Riley wouldn’t misbehave while you were terrified of Lucky running off again.

He must’ve spent a lot of time training him. I should work on seeing what else he can share with me.

You thought to yourself, continuing the silent walk between you two.

—

The walk was peaceful, you guys could walk around the whole park before stopping to take a break.

Lucky and Riley were busy drinking water and playing in the grass. You felt like a mom watching your baby play with the other kids. You weren’t sure how Lucky was around other dogs, but you think seeing him react positively to Riley was a great start.

You took another glance at Johnny, seeing his relaxed nature. You knew that you had to see what else he was willing to share with you.

“Say Johnny…?”

Johnny angled his head slightly, giving you his fullest attention.

“Do you have any advice for me? Like I’m worried that I can’t be the owner that Lucky needs.”

You notice how Johnny is quiet for a while before he speaks.

“You just need tae be patient. Teachin’ Riley wasn’t easy. He didn’t want tae learn how tae use the leash, either.”

“Really?”

“Aye. Couldn’t stand it. Always yankin’. Took me a while tae get him tae learn. But I was patient. Anytime he tugged, I stood still. Eventually he learned.”

You took what he said in. Riley seemed like a great dog, so to see that even excellent dogs need a little nudge in the right direction made you feel a bit better. If Johnny could train Riley to be a great dog, then you could too.

Johnny continues.

“You got tae be consistent with your training. Can’t go switchin’ up on Lucky….and use positive reinforcement, dogs learn better when they are rewarded for good behavior.”

“I see… say you wouldn’t know anything about how to get dogs to stop barking or biting on furniture, would you?”

Johnny blinked slightly before speaking slowly.

“Aye…I know a thing or two… Why dinnae we focus on leash trainin’ first?”

“Oh? Okay.”

—

Johnny was screwed. Very screwed.

That’s what he realizes when he’s laying in bed late at night.

At the park, he gave you advice that he could tell you were invested in it.

It all came from an assortment of videos that he pulled an all nighter for.

The story about how Riley struggled on walking with the leash too, and what he did to train him?

That wasn’t entirely false. Riley did struggle slightly on the leash but Simon was the one who trained him. Johnny was just the one listening to Simon talk about it.

Johnny had to face the harsh truth.

He was lying out of his ass. He didn’t know anything about dogs other than they pee and poop.

But he still thinks that you two are managing to get something out of it.

He’s getting the chance to know you better through the walking sessions.

You’re learning more about how to train Lucky.

A win win for the both of you, if he could say so himself.

However, now?

Where you’re asking him for advice on excessive barking and biting on the furniture?

He can’t help but think as he reaches for his phone:

Lucky me. Get to pull another all nighter.

Made a new divider 😊 by the time this chapter is uploaded I should have all the chapters with the new divider

The reason why I take forever to update is that I suck at dialogue. I feel like a robot writing dialogue 🤖 and trying to do Johnny’s accent is killing me that’s why I go simple

Taglist: @donat-senpai @other-fandoms-reblogs @sleep101

I’m really liking the title Puppy Love maybe I’m sticking with that one, credit goes to @/just-lost-inbetween-worlds (thanks so much! Wasn’t sure how you felt about being tagged so I put the /)

[salesmancarddd]

The Glory nicknames Headcanon

✹ (What type of nicknames would they give you?)

一 Setoutsumi (2016)

Characters: Joo Yeo-Jeong, Jeon Jae-Jun, Ha Do-Yeong, Chief Shin Yeong-Jun

Note: I need some new series to watch because I genuinely can't get over My Name. It's been on my mind 24/7; the whole series was a chef's kiss to me 😭

MASTERLIST

✹ Joo Yeo-Jeong

一 Sweetheart, dear, babe, my world

✹ This guy is a classic romantic—very cheesy too! He’s definitely watched his fair share of romantic movies and picked up a few traits from them.

● He would definitely call you “Dear” during the soft moments you share, especially when you’re cooking together. He even has your phone number saved as "My World."

✹ In heated arguments, (if that ever occur), he’ll still use "Sweetheart" no matter the situation. He’ll remain gentle with you while also being a little stubborn. I see him as the first person to try to solve any problems between you. Even if it’s a big issue, he’ll still make an effort.

✹ Jeon Jae-Jun

一 Hot stuff, dollface, princess (whore, slut)

✹ With this guy, you never know what to expect. One day he can be loving and attentive, and the next thing you know, he completely changes in an instant if you say or do something he doesn’t like.

✹ Even though he may spoil you and affectionately call you “princess,” if he’s in a bad mood, he might resort to calling you derogatory names like “whore” or “slut,” especially if you're being a bit bratty. I can tell you that he wouldn’t hesitate to put his hands on you if you pushed things too far.

✹ If you decide to wear something attractive, he’ll compliment you and call you “hot stuff.” And if he wants to show you off to someone, he’ll refer to you as “my dollface.”

✹ Ha Do-Yeong

一 Darling, honey, love

✹ This guy is just old-fashioned and has a certain demeanor. He’s not the type to use terms like "baby" or "babe"—I think he’ll just turn a blind eye to those nicknames. While he doesn’t mind you calling him that, personally he thinks it doesn't fit him calling his partner like that.

✹ To be fair, he’s a busy guy, so when you two spend time together, it’s usually playing Go or him teaching you how to play. In those moments, he’ll always call you "honey" when he’s explaining things.

✹ If you decide to call him while he’s at work, he’ll always refer to you as "love." When you call or hang up, he’s not great at saying "I love you too" at the end, so he often says, "Talk to you later, love."

✹ Chief Shin Yeong-Jun

一 Darling, Sweetie, sugar

✹ Similar to Do Yeong, he's just older, and using these types of nicknames fits him well, especially if you're his sugar baby. However, this only applies if he's truly into you; otherwise, I don't see him bothering to give you any nicknames.

✹ He might call you "sugar" if he's feeling a bit cocky around you. He's not the type to always use nicknames; he'll only do it during those sweet moments between the two of you. Even during arguments, he can be stubborn, but he might attempt to use "sweetie" to ease the tension.

✹ If you ever go on a date (considering he's a bit ashamed to be dating someone younger and prefers to keep the relationship somewhat secretive), he might occasionally call you "darling," making it sound like you two are married.

[talenlee]

3e: Magical Rings

Rings. Simple circles of metal, worn on the fingers or toes or sometimes in the ears, these delicate pieces of human artistry are some of the earliest examples of creative expression we know can last beyond our lives, and therefore, serve as some of the most iconic examples of the way we use our signifiers to craft narratives of our lives. The promise ring, the engagement ring, the wedding ring, which are of course, all the same thing but companies want us to gild that lily forever, rings serve as a circle present in so many stories to symbolise a bonding, a binding, an eternity that we commit to in our lives and that we can only hold up as long as we continue to believe in that which the ring symbolises. Every ring can be called a ring of power, because it is the belief in stories we imbue in the ring that serves to give it that power.

And as any good item with significance, Dungeons & Dragons decided to start jamming a mechanical system onto them.

This is by no means a new thing for 3rd edition D&D; since earliest versions of the game, I’m sure there were people making ‘magical rings’ important on day dot. This is a game for hacks who want to remind you of the cool fantasy books we’ve read and back when the game was brand new, there really were only so many fantasy books that could be considered cool. Unbelievably, people considered Lord of The Rings one of them, yeah, I know, and apparently, they enjoyed those books and implemented their ideas into their own work. Wild, I know. Point is, it wouldn’t surprise me if D&D’s vision of magical rings predate D&D. What 3rd edition brought, in my experience reading the rulebooks, is a sense of acceleration and omnipresence.

The rules around rings in 3rd edition onwards is that you can wear two rings, and those rings will give you some magical benefit or advantage based on what they’re supposed to do. This is where stacking bonuses tend to rear their head for newer players. After all if you have a Ring of Protection that improves your armour by +1, and you have ten fingers, and those rings are cheap, why not buy a few of them, wear them on different fingers and get a lot better armour? The game saw you coming and instead, the rules limit these bonuses by type and also limits you to one ring per hand.

My time with 2e, towards the end, represent the loot cavalcade that was Baldur’s Gate 2, in which the world is lousy with magical gear which is designed to make it possible to approach a reasonably open world of quests. In this case, you wind up with enough magical rings you just start selling them in sacks, to the point where it can honestly not be worth picking them up in the early game because who’s gunna carry that malarkey? I do not want to pretend that 2ed lacked for this situation. Instead I want to describe the way that 3rd edition brought the idea of Unspecial Rings to everywhere. Almost every resource in the game that players got access to would bring new magical items, new feats, new character options to the board, and with that, you’d see some new rings.

When creating new magical items, the game provided a set of rules that described things that magical items could do, and the general family of effects they could have. Weapons, you might not be surprised, were good at making you better at attacking, and did special things when they hit things. Armour increased your defensive stats and made you better at surviving or enduring things. This could have some interesting side effects, some things that were judged on vibes — like, a trident that meant you could breathe underwater while you had it was probably okay, but it was definitely less okay than a suit of armour that gave you a swim speed and also meant you could breathe underwater. These were all put together by a complicatedly designed set of formulas that tried to price effects based on spells and then on the duration or effect of those spells.

What this meant is that knowing the best spells meant you knew the best ways to break these rules in weird outlier ways. An example that came up commonly was the ‘ring of true strike’ design a lot of players would conceive of, where you would make a ring that cast the spell true strike on use (ie, whenever you attacked). The formula for this implied that as a 1st level spell, cast as a 1st level wizard, this should cost 1x1x2000 gp. Since true strike granted you a +20 to hit on the next attack you meant, this item would obviously trivialising hitting things and that’s pretty nuts.

(Please ignore that a wand of true strike was a level 1 item for 750 gp that would give you this effect for 50 attacks, but only if you were a wizard or a character with the appropriate spell on your list.)

Anyway, the math kicked in at this point and looked for the most expensive way to price the effect. This ‘ring of true strike’ was granting a +20 to hit, and that was priced differently to the 1st level spell that gave it to you, meaning that instead of 2,000 gp, it cost you 20x60x2,000 gp, or 2.4 million gp, which is, uh, a lot more than 2,000. This is because to craft a tohit bonus like that, you needed to be 3 times the level of the bonus, meaning that you needed to find a level 60 wizard who had the time to waste on your nonsense.

Point is that things were examined in terms of their effect and their style. Armour did things that weapons didn’t do. Some weapons could improve your armour class but they needed a good flavour for it — like deflecting something, or blocking hits in melee. Staffs could store spells, wands could store spells but wear out, scrolls could store spells but only once, amulets could protect you in some way like improving a saving throw… and rings…

Rings could do anything.

Where most of the magic items have rules in them that make them hard to use in most situations, or gave them specific types of things they were best at replicating, rings could do anything. Permanent spell effects, on-use spell effects, permanent bonuses, a ring could be a real everythingamajig.

This was such a problem because it meant that even low level rings would wind up being useful, handy even to have around. A ring of sustenance turned off your need for food, for good, so you should probably have one of those for long distance travel. It’s real cheap, after all, and all it takes to swap it off is to swap a ring on a finger. A ring of feather falling could be jammed on a finger while you fell if you were falling far enough. And a ring of jumping could be handy for mobility, and none of these things were particularly expensive (by the standards of an adventurer) by the middle of the game.

The really cracked thing though?

These rings were so good and so worth keeping around in a big keyring for handy applications most of the time because they let non-wizards access all the handy utility stuff wizards had all the time from day 1. When a category of magical item is desireable because it lets you replicate something that the wizard can already do for a fraction of the cost – oh hey, there’s that wands conversation all over again! – you may have a problem class in your game.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[kurishiri]

Alfons Sylvatica ┊ Chaotic Night

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— happy christmas, friends! i present to you...a halloween story lmao this is alfons' story from the chaotic night collection event (featuring will and nica)!

— cw: some suggestiveness, but no portrayed smut.

Due to having ingested the Queen of the Night flower, the Cursed ones’ appearances have changed——

And pulling my hand, Alfons brought me to his room.

Kate: Why did you bring me to your room?

Alfons: You’re asking me that in earnest? There are brutes, all with their Curses amplified, riddled about, you know?

A: With you around, why you’d be gobbled right up.

Kate: But, everyone’s appearance has changed and there may have been changes in their condition... I would think there’s quite a bit of inconvenience.

K: I’m not affected by this, though, so I figured there was something I could do to help or take care of those around me...

Alfons: I do understand the sentiment of wanting to take care of others, but you may end up worrying too much.

A: Just like the ‘Queen of the Night,’ our sins have also amplified...

A: So I would imagine everyone is trying their hardest to hold in the impulses smoldering in their chests.

A: It would be in our best interest to lay low then.

(He does have a point there...)

Kate: ...Alright then, I’ll stay here quietly.

Alfons: Oh, but if your soft and good heart stirs so much and you want to look after someone so much you can hardly bear it, then do take care of me.

A: See, dear me, Alfons’ appearance has changed as well, and what a dire situation he is in, yes?

...was what he said, as I once again looked over his body.

(For some reason, he’s wrapped around in gauze...)

(He’s not wearing a costume, and he’s looked like this since he ingested the queen of the night extract, right...?)

As gauze was not meant to be put on and removed by one’s own volition, even if he lightly pulled on it, it wouldn’t come off.

Kate: With that look... are you hurt anywhere, or did you go through any pain and whatnot?

Alfons: Hardly. My whole body from head to toe — oh, and this place too — is thriving.

(‘This place’...?)

Kate: Umm... if that’s the case, then it’s fine for now.

K: But, now that I’m looking at it again, it’s kind of strange... why do you look like that?

Alfons: In fact, that was exactly what I wanted to ask you, Kate.

A: You would be the one to know why I’m taking on such a form.

A: After all, whatever appearance I take on is a reflection of your desires.

Kate: Your appearance reflects my desires...? What do you mean?

Alfons: Up until now, I have been showing others illusions.

A: And so, if the extract amplified such an ability...

A: Then, even without touching the back of the other’s neck, I would be able to show them what they wish to see, perhaps?

A: ...Besides that, it was when you laid your eyes on me that I changed appearance.

Kate: B-but I don’t ever want you hurt in the slightest!

Alfons: That is the least I can tell, even without your passionate declaration.

A: You are hardly the type to wish harm on me.

Kate: Then why...

Alfons: Hmm, well...

A: ...Ahh, I have an inkling. This is Japonisme, isn’t it?

Kate: Japonisme... you mean how the culture and art from a country called Japan became a trend?

Alfons: Exactly that. In Japan, there is a type of clothing called a kimono, you see...

A: And within that is a part called the obi [1], in which all will be laid bare with one flourish... was a part of their culture.

A: Oh, and by the way, when it’s been removed, the wearer would shout, ‘Oh me, oh my!’ while falling upon the bed.

Kate: ...Was that really a thing?

Alfons: Who knows? I, too, have only ever heard it in passing... well, anyhow, what I wanted to say was...

A: You probably wanted to wrap me in bandages before pulling it all off in one go.

Kate: Wh— why would I be into that sort of naughty thing...!?

Alfons: But you could have been influenced by me, no?

Kate: ...It pains me to admit that I can’t completely argue with that.

Alfons: Ahha! I won’t judge no matter how many strange hobbies you hold, you know?

A: How about you try to take them off, just to test the theory?

(Just what desire of mine caused Alfons to take on such an appearance, I wonder...?)

(It’s not as though I particularly like bandages...)

Then, while thinking about my own tastes...

Alfons: Urgh...

Alfons let out a small groan.

Kate: Did something happen!?

Alfons: The bandages around me wrapped even tighter... and it’s become a tad painful.

Kate: Wha...

Alfons: ...Ahh, but worry not. I do feel being bound to your desires like this isn’t so bad...

As Alfons said that, his expression looked a little pale. He was clearly holding it in.

(I need to stop my desire quick, or Alfons will continue to be in pain like this...!)

(Bandages... bondage... just what’s the reason? What in the world am I wishing for...!?)

I continued to mull on it as hard as I could, in hopes of saving Alfons... when it was then I realized.

(Could it be...!)

Kate: Alfons, say, ‘There’s only the two of us in this room’ to me!

Alfons: ...? ‘There’s only the two of us in this room’...

Albeit hesitant, Alfons said those words, and...

Alfons: Ah... the bandages feel more loose.

Kate: Thank goodness... which would mean my guess was right.

Alfons: Care to explain?

Kate: Well... the other day when we went out to eat together, there were a lot of women in the shop...

K: And many of those women seemed pretty taken by you, so...

K: I ended up thinking, ‘If only nobody else could see Alfons...’

Alfons: Hehe... I see now. So that’s what it was.

A: You didn’t want anyone else seeing me, and so by wrapping me all around in bandages, you could hide me away... is that it?

A: In that case, ‘there’s only the two of us in this room’ would make sense.

A: If it’s just the two of us, there is nobody but you to see me, so there would be no need to wrap me up in bandages then.

Kate: So it really was my desire that left you looking like this... I’m really sorry.

Alfons: Why the apology?

A: To see your earnest love manifest in a way that’s easy to understand is rather a good thing, no?

A: Love is an invisible thing, and at times I do question its existence. But... to see it like this, it does put me at ease.

With an amused smile, Alfons kissed me.

The heat and sweetness of those lips melted away my guilt.

Alfons: ...Say, Kate. There is only the two of us in this room, with no one to interrupt.

A: So what would follow then?

Kate: T-that...

I was too embarrassed to form any more words, but it no longer had anything to do with whether I said it or not.

My desire unbound Alfons’ bandages, causing his clothes to become disheveled on its own.

Alfons: ...You’re quite naughty, aren’t you, Kate.

While laughing happily, Alfons pushed me down on the bed.

Each of us consuming a jumbled mess of Curses and love, this Chaotic Night was just getting started.

Fin.

masterlist🪞 ┊ ko-fi ☕️ ┊ comms🤍

NOTES:

[1] The obi refers to the part of the kimono, traditional Japanese clothing, that is a sash. It might look something like this.

[riotlain]

Hi-hi!! As a nonbinary, your stuff makes me so happy(I’m so used to having to suck it up and read fem!reader fics 😔)

I saw your fluff alphabet for damian wayne, and was wondering if you could do one for the other batboys?(preferably dick?)

Good morning USA. I’ve got a feeling that it’s gonna be a wonderful day.

MLM BLOG !! WOMEN DNI

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Dick is a pretty active guy but also very flexible (Yes in every way). Staying in? Works for him! Fancy date? He’ll probably end up spoiling you.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Physically? I’d say his favorite parts about you are your hands. He’s a physically affectionate guy ok. If you paint your nails he would probably eat that shit up.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

In my opinion I think he would be the type to try and distract you when you’re down. Favorite show/movie, snacks, everything you like.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Family type. If you don’t want actual kids then you get a dog or some sort of pet. Nice house or apartment in Bludhaven.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Depends on the situation. When it comes to your safety and well being, he will be dominant. Something small like what’s for dinner or what to do for the day he would be more passive but will take the lead if you can’t decide.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

The forgiver. He is bad with his own emotions, covering them with jokes and sorta pent up, so in arguments he can easily say something he would regret. He would apologize very soon after though.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

He is grateful but sometimes isn’t as aware of all you do for him.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

At first, yes. Being the kid of Batman and being Nightwing is his biggest secret. He also tends to mask how he’s feeling with jokes or something similar and struggles with sharing his emotions.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

You help him grow as a person. Help him become more open.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Yes sometimes but also he knows how to make you swoon. Someone flirts with you? He’s there to top that x2.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

He has experience, yes.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Being nervous confident at your door with a bouquet of flowers.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Yes but also no but yes. He would propose after a ‘Perfect Day’, being a fancy dinner date and other things you like. The marriage wouldn’t be too big, mainly just the Batfam, maybe the Kents, also his friends.. Maybe a little big if you consider how many people he’s friends with.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Babe mostly and occasionally doll but will do the really cheesy ones when he’s feeling cheeky.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

He is a hopeless romantic. He is a little obvious about his crush and his brothers all know just because of how much he talks about you. He expresses it mainly through gifts and physical touch. Maybe the occasional flirt.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Yes and yes. He loves showing you off to his family and doesn’t mind PDA. He doesn’t overdo it don’t worry.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Thanks to being raised in a circus, he’s a great entertainer! It’s hard to be bored with him.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Hopeless romantic. He knows what you like and how you like them. Typically pretty cliche but will go outside of the box often.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Your number 1 supporter!! Hes there to help you every step of the way and cheer you on! (Yes it’s the same as the Damian ask bc same goes for him)

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

He loves trying out new things! Flexibility is his middle name.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Empathetic and knows you well. He has a mental list of things that make you tick and things you love.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

You’re very important to him he would actually die for you. But also if you told him he couldn’t say, be Nightwing anymore that would probably fuck him up.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Loves circus dates. If you are fearful of clowns bro it’ll be gone when you’re dating him because he LOVES circus clowns.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Yes very affectionate, loves physical affection.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Hoodie stealer. Also scrolls through pictures of you guys on his phone and may give you a call.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Would in fact die for you man like you. Bulletproof love like Pierce the Veil.

[reveriederayne]

𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞

keigo takami x reader; 3.429 words

A/N: this is a fic from last year that I wrote. got inspired after reading @/moodyvoid post. she even reblogged it and i was bombarded by notifications the next day. good times

CW: reader has intrusive thoughts about harming hawks; reader is horny for hawks (nothing explicit); (one sided) enemies to lovers; let me know if I need to ass anything else !

It was late in the evening, maybe like three hours after school hours have finished. You were walking back from your way to work to finally catch a break when you noticed your old teacher from UA. You and Aizawa have kept in contact after you had graduated, but never really had the time to speak casually until today. So now you were sitting on a bench in some random park waiting for Aizawa to return with some coffee to catch up. Only for him to sit and complain with you about his current students now that you were an adult and could understand why he found kids annoying.

“I swear, these stupid kids are going to kill me one of these days…”

You took a sip of your coffee that he ordered for you, scrunching up your nose in disgust before swiftly pouring the rest of the drink in the nearby bushes. “Well you said the same thing about my class yet here you are, still alive” you said casually, remembering how annoyed he used to be with your class and antics that you all pulled off. You turned to look at him only to find him throwing you an annoyed glare, but you just laughed at that.

“Remind me why I even bother keeping contact with you ?”

“Cause I’m your favourite old student ?”

Before Aizawa had the time to object to that, you heard your work phone buzzing in your pocket and took it out, thinking that it was some kind of emergency if they called you after your shift. Reading the email that was sent to you, your eyes widened slightly, and the older man raised an eyebrow at that.

“What is it ?”

You re-read it a second time, making sure that you weren’t imagining it, before you read it out loud to him. “They’re inviting me to… some hero event ? Isn’t this defeating the purpose of me being an underground hero ?” You turned to him dumbfounded, and he just shrugged, sitting back and continuing to drink his coffee.

“They sometimes do that. They see an underground pro with a “Bigger Potential” as they say and try to get them to be more public. It makes them more money, and people consider this as a bit of an ego boost.”

You scoffed, you didn’t know if you should be flattered that they noticed you enough to invite you or insulted that they thought you were the type of person to easily chase after fame. Either way, you shoved your phone back into your pocket and crossed your arms over your chest. Aizawa noticed this and decided that for once he would be openly comforting. “You shouldn’t this an insult, you’re a great hero. And maybe you should consider going.”

You gave him a deadpan look, thinking that maybe from the last time you two spoke he developed some sense of humour. But by the serious look on his face, you guessed that it wasn’t a poor attempt at a joke.

“Are you kidding me ? You hate the paparazzi”

“But you don’t.” He interjected, “At least not as much as me. And you can always just be present there, talk to so some interviewers see how it all works and then go back to working as an underground hero. It’s not like you’re going to stand out much when the top ten, even twenty heroes are going to be present.”

In hindsight, he was right. Amongst the sea of popular heroes whose interviews people were dying to watch, you wouldn’t stand out like a sore thumb, you would be more like a needle in a haystack in this situation. And to be frank, you were always curious about this sort of events since you didn’t know any public heroes, at least not personally. “Well, I would like to experiment with that but… I would feel out of place. Plus, what am I supposed to do when I’m not talking to interviewers ? Look at a random wall ?”

Aizawa was almost regretting encouraging you into actually going, seeing how nervous you were getting solely at the thought of it, but he sighed and calmed himself down for your sake. “If you really nervous about going alone, I can ask Hizashi to accompany you there since he’s going anyway, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind catching up with an old student while there.”

You were so happy about him taking the extra step to make you confident in accepting the invitation that you almost hugged him, but quickly stopped yourself and simply bowed before you could embarrass yourself, “Thank you, Mr. Aizawa !”

Getting ready for that hero event was more torturous than you had expected at the start, because it felt like a dumb family reunion from your teenage years all over again. You wanted to dress casual because in the invitation there wasn’t even a specific theme that they were going for the event, so you were expected to just show up. But according to your friends that previously watched it on TV from a year ago, this was totally unacceptable, and you had to put extra effort into your appearance. Apparently, the fact that heroes were tired every single day from fighting and keeping Japan safe wasn’t enough of an excuse to be casual for one day, and they had to dress up for a bunch of strangers that they were never going to meet again for the rest of their lives.

So here you were, standing in a dress that you deemed was fancy enough for you to not get judgmental looks from the other guests and some light makeup to hopefully hide your tired face. Even though your friends cheered you on when you showed them your outfit, you still felt something was going to go wrong this night. But you decided to brush it off, blaming it on your nerves. You figured that since you weren’t important for the media anyway, nobody was going to pay you the slightest attention. Taking your bag, you locked the door of your flat behind you and quickly made your way outside, waiting for your ride to arrive.

So here you were, riding along with your two old teachers, Present Mic and Midnight. It felt weird given that unlike Aizawa, you didn’t keep in contact with the two of them after your graduation, yet these two were treating you so casually. You figured it was a way for them to show you that they respected you as a fellow hero or something, but it felt too odd coming from your previous teachers, especially Kayama who kept bugging you about your love life and such, to which you could only respond with fidgeting and a nervous smile. Thankfully you didn’t have to listen to any more of her questions since the three of you finally arrived. The first thing you noticed is the extreme number of paparazzi inside and outside the building, the bright camera flashes almost making it impossible to see properly.

You got out of the car, following suit after the blond man to not get lost and end up alone in the big crowd of unknown people. Last thing you needed was to get stuck chatting with heroes that you had no interest in talking to and having to explain your quirk like ten times in a row to different people. Kayama being herself obviously went off to flirt with someone while Yamada stayed close to you and decided to spend time catching up with you, you guessed it was because Aizawa never actually talked about you or never specifically brought you up.

“So, how’s the hero life treating ya, kid ? Everything you expected from when you graduated, or you’re ready to quit ?”

“Isn’t every job that exists making you feel like you’re ready to quit at some point ?”

You did some more catching up with him, talks about hero work and just life in general after graduating from UA, before eventually it was your tun to be interviewed, and surprisingly you enjoyed it. It wasn’t something that you would want to do every single time, you chose to be an underground hero for a reason after all, but it still felt nice to get some sort of attention. Like people saw you and acknowledge you for what you did because it was right, not because you looked cool while doing it. Even if it didn’t last very long and the interviewer immediately turned his attention to Present Mic and talked about how he was so awesome and in return the hero kept shouting compliments and anecdotes, but you were too busy covering your eras to not become deaf to hear anything he yelled, which was too loud for you even if he didn’t use his quirk.

The next day after the event, you sat on your couch and decided that since it was your day off, you could spend some time watching the interview that you did just for some fun. Everything was how you remembered, you took some time to admire your outfit, before you noticed something that made you a bit flustered: Hawks, the number two hero Hawks, passing by you and staring at you, like full on eye fucking you. You sat there for a couple of seconds before telling yourself that he was probably staring at someone else. He couldn’t possibly be staring at you, what kind of reputation he would have if he would just stare at random pro heroes that were only invited on a whim.

Then out of curiosity, you decided to watch his interviews. Everything was normal, some questions about his work, fans, etc… Until you pass somewhere behind him, the camera focusing on him barely catching your silhouette as he turns to yet again stare at you, less openly this time. Then he’s turning back to the camera, and you swear to God you can pass out from his words. “Damn, who is that ?” The way he’s saying it, plus how you can clearly see his face turning slightly red, has your brain short-circuiting and making you hide our face in a pillow like a teenager who got a confession from their crush.

But after some thinking about it, you sit up and now, you’re actually feeling annoyed. If you had just been interviewed, then people would probably forget about you in a week or so. But this is the № 2 hero we’re talking about, people will be gossiping about it for months, maybe even call out to you on the streets, with paparazzi spreading any sort of gossip to make money out of it. And the crazy fans, you weren’t ready to wake up to death threats by fanatics that somehow found your private account and thought that Hawks was their boyfriend.

Before you could get angrier about the situation, you heard your personal phone ring and quickly put it on speaker. On the other line, you heard your friend yelling out your name like it was the end of the world or something, which honestly, it felt really fitting to you.

“Did you watch Hawk’s interview from last night ? Dude, he is so into you !”

You could only let out a groan in response to that, sliding from your couch on the floor and hiding your face in your hands. “My life as an underground hero is ruined. Why did I ever decide to go there…”

“Aren’t you a little proud that Hawks of all people thought you are hot ? I mean that’s kind of an accomplishment.”

“I already knew that. I didn’t need someone to say it on national TV” You could only hear a bark of laughter from the other line “Well anyway, I’m sure that something else will pop up and people will quickly forget about Hawks crush, or whatever the media will call it.”

They, in fact, did not forget about Hawks crush on you. And yes, that’s how they called it. For the past week, you had been bombarded with paparazzi, and people from talk shows. They kept inviting you to talk about the situation and your feelings towards the № 2 flirty remarks and questioning about your relationship with him, as if you had any to begin with. His fans who theorized online if the two of you were secretly dating and were just putting on a show for everyone, as if. And just as you had expected, his delusional fans were going crazy over this, threatening you to stay away from him. You almost wanted to fake a confession just to see who was willing to find you and murder you in your own home so that Hawks would feel guilty about his comments. But you decided that your intrusive thoughts were best kept inside your brain.

Even villains begin to recognize you, and it especially felt humiliating when you were about to arrest them and all they cared about is if the rumours were true, followed by your teammates' laughter. Hell, even Hawks was pouring salt on the wound. Of all the things that he could have answered when talking in another interview when they brought up the clip of him looking at you and what was your relationship, he responded “If I’m lucky, my future spouse”. The only thing that filled your thoughts at that moment is how you wanted to rip off his swings so that he would finally stop smiling. And again, you decided to keep your intrusive thoughts to yourself.

This had been exhausting to say the least, to the point where you were asked to take a break by every single one of your friends because of how… not mentally okay you looked. It’s not like they were wrong; you kept beating yourself up from every single failed mission because instead of stealthy defeating a villain, your hero name was screamed and shouted at you, making you lose your concentration. It left you wondering how others put on a show when fighting. Lucky for you, you didn’t have to wonder more because some big scandal about Mountain Lady got out, and you were quickly forgotten and were able to come back to that quiet life. Even if some articles about the subject would pop up, people mostly just ignored it and shrugged it off as Hawks being his usual flirt. Which, all things considered, was kind of true, so you didn’t have to worry about him remembering you either if someday your unluckiness forced you to meet him.

…

“I jinxed it, didn't I…?”

It was a couple of days after the scandal with Mountain Lady. You were leaning on the side of a building, munching on whatever dessert you had ordered, the fancy name that it was given already forgotten. When suddenly, you noticed a pair of red wings out of the corner of your eye. That alone was enough for you to start feeling a mix of annoyance and anxiety slowly building up, and that only worsened when he spoke.:

“Heeeey, you’re that sexy underground pro I saw last time. How you doing hot stuff ?”

Currently, your mind was torn between wanting to leave multiple stab wounds over his whole body or making him leave multiple love bites over yours. You knew the guy was handsome, but dammit, seeing him in real life and to top it off in casual clothing was doing something to your body and mind. “So that’s why people say that cameras don’t do him justice. Noted…”

“You birdbrain had managed to ruin my entire image in just two interviews, which by the way I don’t know if you care enough, was not supposed to exist at all. You know how many people called out to me while I was on a mission, and even more had asked me if we were a thing ! And what the hell were you thinking by basically telling people that you wanted to marry me someday ?!” You whisper yelled at him, but apparently your anger towards the man in front of you was doing nothing but amuse him in response.

“Well, what were you thinking when you decided to go there ? That’s a public event sweetheart; people were bound to notice you. Plus…” He leaned closer to you, hands casually resting inside his pockets as he looked down at you with a smug grin. “By the way your cheeks are burning up, I have a good guess that it’s not because you’re angry. So I feel like you enjoy my attention.”

You could’ve answered with a snarky comment; you could’ve acted aggressive towards like you did all this time when you thought about confronting him, you could’ve just glared at him to not give him any satisfaction of being right about your feelings. Instead, your face got even more red than it already was, and you just sprinted off before he could another embarrassing comment about your state. And Hawks couldn’t do anything but stare in amusement as you got further away from him. He had expected you to react like this, but he was not ready to how much he would enjoy this “cute…” He thought to himself, before entering the coffee shop like he initially planned.

After that incident, you thought that you wouldn’t have to see the winged hero again, since you basically stalked all of his accounts to know where not to go when you weren’t on hero duty. But fate had yet again decided to go against your wishes, since not even two days after that, you bumped into each other again, in a less-than-ideal moment at that.

Hawks was busy chasing a mutant type of villain that no one could catch because he kept liquefying his body, when he got into a building. He chased after him, settling for a run since his wings didn’t have enough room to spread properly and let him fly. But before Hawks could do anything, the villain grabbed a civilian that was passing by, pressing a knife against their throat so that Hawks would have no other choice but to let him go. The civilian in question was you, just coming back from grocery shopping with now facing the winged hero as he thought about a solution to not get you killed in the process of arresting this guy.

To put it simply, the situation annoyed you. You were exhausted from hero work, and the only thing you wanted to do right now was go back home to satisfy your hunger with the meal that you had just bought. And you were not going to wait for that birdbrain to come up with a plan while you were at the brink of death only because he was useless at the moment. So, you grabbed hold of the knife along with the shoulder of the villain and threw him over you with full force. You looked down on him, an unimpressed look on your face. “Before taking a hostage make sure they’re not a hero, or don’t do martial arts” You glanced at your now bleeding hand that was holding the knife, sighing at the fact that you would have to clean the floor afterwards to not scare your neighbours.

Hawks didn’t waste any time to cuff the villain, and immediately after checking on you, “I’m so sorry for this. Let me help you clean your-” You cut him off by showing your now completely healed hand, as if the incident had never happened, minus the little scare that would also disappear with time. “Fast healing. Don’t worry about it” He stared dumbfounded at your hand, before eventually regaining his composure and going back to his cheerful persona, a satisfied grin on his face.

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay… And I really am sorry.”

You raised an eyebrow, shoving your hands into your pockets. “For making me almost die or the interview ?”

“Whatever you choose, songbird”

You scoffed, watching as he descended the stairs to finally leave. You leaned against the railings, looking down at him as he made his way down before shouting “If you feel sorry for the latter, you can always invite me to dinner !”

He looked up, a smirk on his face as he considered your offer before replying in a very enthusiastic manner, “Be ready tomorrow at ten. Casual.”

And with that, he finally left. You pushed yourself up, walking towards your door as you picked up your groceries, humming to yourself. “Should have invited him inside maybe…? Nah, then the poor villain would be stuck listening.”

© reveriederayne; every work posted on this blog is my own. I do not give anyone permission to copy, translate, or repost my works anywhere under any circumstance.

[husbandoofthemonth]

Beholden - yet another piece of smut, this time with Advanced Tactics (AKA a three way).

This is some Gris/Enjin/Fem!Reader. Enjoy! No disclaimers. It’s uhhhhh one bed trope I think.

“He’s so damn cute when he’s being all doted on,” you mentioned.

“What do you mean?” Gris asked.

The two of you were observing Enjin get pestered with, probably, one million questions by two little kids who witnessed him take down the trash beasts. It wasn’t a town any of you had visited before - closer to the edge of a contaminated zone, and in-between HQ and the South Ward. You left early that morning, arrived in the late afternoon, and Enjin had cleaned up before late evening. Given how exhausted you all were from the drive over and immediate disposal, the town’s local inn had graciously opened its doors to you in thanks. It was a cute town, though a bit in shambles like most towns closer to the contamination zones were. But the spirit of the town was jovial, especially so after Semiu made sure she got your team over there as soon as possible to resolve their worries.

Two supporters were provided for Enjin this time around, you and Gris, just because the long drive may have made one of you sleepy - and each team should make sure everyone is as alert as possible on all missions. You weren’t green to the Cleaners, but it was your first time going on a smaller mission like this. It felt a lot more casual, and with just Gris and Enjin as your companions, it was easier to save social energy so you could talk and gather information from the townspeople, instead of trying to get to know everyone you’re working with. And, truth be told, you didn’t mind being paired with these two. You liked how Enjin handled himself in these situations. Despite knowing how informal he is in a casual setting, he always carried himself well around people. He had that charm about him - not always when it came to certain random women, but to the everyday folk, and especially the kids.

“He’s patient with them,” you elaborated, “he probably looks like a super hero to the kids, but he acts so casual and humble with them. He’s not gloating in it, you know?”

Gris, sitting next to you, finished with his meal, nodded his head in agreement while saying,

“I’ve always preferred going on missions with him because he’s…just good at what he does.” He took the final swig off his beer and put it on the table with a firm clink.

One of the kids hounding Enjin suddenly grabbed at the back of his coat and yanked. You and Gris both laughed as the boy's father grabbed his child back and profusely apologized. Enjin gave them both an award winning grin and raised his hand up like it was nothing. You knew he’d be walking back soon enough to call the kid a “damn brat,” but no one else had to know it.

“But..cute?” Gris asked.

“Hmm?”

“You said he’s ‘so damn cute.’” He let the statement linger a little bit before adding, “you think he’s cute in the way he acts, or his looks too?”

You were caught off guard. Was Gris just asking if you thought Enjin was attractive? You’d assume he was drunk, but you knew he only had one beer - and god knows that wouldn’t be enough for a man of his size to get drunk. Buzzed maybe, but only if the drink was stronger than usual.

“I,” you started, “I mean…he’s not a bad looking guy.”

“Is he your type?”

You were flabbergasted. Maybe even feeling a slight blush come over you from the blunt questions coming from Gris.

“Well…” do you humor him? The smile on his face had no malice. No scheming, no teasing, just a genuine question.

Truth be told, yes you could consider Enjin to be your type. You liked men who were tall, generally handsome, had a slight preference towards blonds, but not one’s with crazy strong builds. You liked slimmer types, but some bulky types could charm you from time to time. Personality, of course, was a big factor - and as you and Gris were just mentioning, Enjin was composed of quite a few green flags.

So, you decided to tell Gris just that.

“So,” he started, “tall, cute, slightly built, with a good personality?”

You nodded.

“And blond?”

“It’s a bonus.”

“That’s my type too. In men at least.”

Wait a minute. Gris was…Gris was absolutely putting down that he thought Enjin was attractive too. So not only did he subtly drop that he was into men (women too by his phrasing, you guessed), but he was also, specifically, into Enjin. Was he just being conversational? Or was that…was that a warning? He laughed when he saw your face, clearly making some kind of quizzical expression.

“I’m just saying he’s my type too. I mean, there’s a reason I always enjoy going on missions with him. And especially you.”

Gris was flirting. Good god! Gris was flirting! You mentally kicked yourself back into gear, a part of your brain yelling fire back! Fire back the flirtation damnit!

“And what’s your type of woman?” You goaded on.

“What are we talking about?”

You and Gris both snapped out of your bubble after noticing that Enjin had returned (coat intact), with a cheeky smile on his face and a key in hand.

“I was just asking what type of woman was Gris’s type,” you smiled. Both of you looked towards the man of the question. It felt good to turn the tables on him and get him to squirm in the “probably not a work appropriate question but is fine with answering anyways” hot seat.

“Well,” he started, running a nervous hand through his hair, “I…wait-did you say “room” Enjin?”Enjin shrugged as he explained,

“That’s all they have available. Given some of the houses were destroyed by the trash beasts, a couple of families are also spending the night here. And I’m not gonna turn down a bed over a car seat.”

“Same,” you chimed in. As cramped as it may be with three people in one room, surely you could make something work. Anything, even the floor, beat staying in the car you were already in all day, and now were sweaty and tired on top of it.

Gris looked between you and Enjin.

“Do they have a cot to spare?”

“Already asked. And nope - they don’t. But apparently there’s a single chair that’s pretty comfy. Besides,” he clapped his hand on your shoulder, “she’s pretty small - we can fit her in the bathtub.”

“Awww so you can have Gris all to yourself?” Woof, wait, you thought, reel it in-

“Hell yeah,” Enjin obliged.

The three of you laughed, your awkward statement lightened by the ever well-spoken Enjin, and he slid his hand to your back.

“Cmon, you guys ready? I’m beat.”

“Sure thing,” Gris responded, standing up. You followed suit, and noticed how Enjin’s hand lingered on your back, if only a bit longer than need be, before sliding it off completely. You gave him a quick glance - he matched your gaze with a soft look. It made you feel something flutter in your stomach as you realized your night was going to have close company.

—

On entering the room, you all realized it was far too cramped for the floor to be an option. The “pretty comfy chair” was more a skeleton of a chair with an overstuffed pillow as a cushion, and while the king bed was, in fact, a king bed, it didn’t have a proper duvet, but more a series of blankets thrown on top of it haphazardly to cover the whole top area. The room had a coziness to it though - the walls with a simple floral patterned wallpaper, and dark wood floors and trimmings. A single large window was on the far end of the room wall, the darkness outside only being permeated with glints of the lamplights outside. A smedium TV hung by a prayer on the wall. You still considered using the tub as a possible bed, but once the three of you had finished taking showers (the hot water, thankfully, lasting for all of you to enjoy), the bathroom was far too humid for it to become a comfortable spot to lay for the night.

As you and Enjin laid on the bed together while Gris took his turn brushing his teeth, the two of you had opened up the usual small talk. About work, how slow it had been, how one of the new supporters was doing really well - simple things. Despite mentioning his exhaustion coming up to the room, Enjin seemed wide awake with you by his side.

“Oh yeah,” he continued, “did you see that little brat grab my coat?”

You laughed, “I knew you’d call him a brat.”

“That kid who tugged on your coat?” Gris asked, walking out of the bathroom.

“Yes!” You both answered in unison.

Gris laughed as he approached the bed, sitting on the more empty side. You were in the middle of the bed with Enjin on your right, and while the situation did feel a bit inappropriate, the casual and comfortable way Enjin spoke to you made you feel like the whole situation was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

“Oh yeah,” Enjin pipped up as Gris laid down next to you both, “you never answered her question Gris. What’s your kind of woman?”

“Ohh,” Gris responded, but with a humoring nature added to it, “nothing particular to be honest. I’m more of a-“

“Personality type?” Enjin dryly finished for him. You laughed as Gris raised an eyebrow at him.

“Come on,” Enjin continued, “give us something! I can at least say I like a woman with good curves.”

Gris sighed and genuinely took a moment to contemplate his response. He turned to look at you, eyes barely hiding how he looked you up and down, making you feel the bed warm up underneath you.

“Y/N,” - Enjin gawked at this - “Y/N is actually quite my type.”

You felt your face blush at the comment - but it felt playful as overly flirty, maybe even cheesy, as it was.

“Shit,” Enjin responded, “you’re bold Gris.” And that sounded genuine too. “How do you respond to that Y/N?”

Maybe it was the confidence with which Gris made his own comment, or maybe it was the heat of the moment making you feel a bit more daring than usual, because you found yourself easily replying with

“Well, you’re both my type too,” you shrugged, “makes me feel like we’re all a good match.”

You’d never seen Enjin have the expression he currently wore before. There was clearly surprise in his eyes, maybe even some annoyance that he didn’t have a one liner to respond to you with.

“Well…alright,” was all he could sputter out. It made you feel more daring as you continued,

“And do you have a type of man you like Enjin? If you're also into them?”

He looked at you with almost a slight pout on his face.

“I like chicks more, but there’s a few men…” he trailed off. His gaze quickly snapped too and away from Gris, quickly stating, “and now since it’s out, I’d say Gris fits my type of man.”

Gris sat up, a pleasant inflection in his voice when he asked “really?”

Enjin shot him a glance, and you could see his face glow the smallest tinge of pink.

“Yeah,” he conceded, “I like men who are taller than me at last. Plus, you’re also an objectively handsome man. I wouldn’t mind…” he stopped himself, then cleared his throat.

“Don’t make me call our HR department with all this work-inappropriate flirting!” Gris declared. The three of you laughed at that, with you asking who HR would even be.

“Semiu,” was Enjin’s quick answer.

“Well if we reported this to Semiu,” Gris added, “I think the first thing she’d think of is one of her magazines.”

“Do you think there’s MMF three-ways in her magazines?” You tacked on. An image flashed in your mind then, of you on your hands and knees, sandwiched and being pounded on both ends by-

“Settle doooooown,” Enjin cajoled the both of you, this time making just you and Gris laugh, as Enjin muttered, “or else you’re going to make me act up.”

“Hmm?” You asked. Was Enjin…hmm. You could only imagine what he was thinking - you’d wager to ask, keep your daring streak going, but something told you to not push the subject. Not yet at least.

“Alright,” Gris mused, turning onto his side, turning off the bedside lamp, and pulling his blankets up, “let’s get some shut eye.”

You nestled yourself after you and Enjin pulled up the rest of the blankets over you, you also wanting to lay on your side, facing Enjin, as you started to try and get to sleep. The room was dark enough to lull you to sleep, with the only light permeating the space coming from the window, where the warm flicker of the lamp lights outside ebbed and flowed.

Before you closed your eyes and mumbled goodnight, you stole one last glance at Enjin, who was simply on his back, his eyes looking right back at you with a half lidded gaze. As you tried to sleep you wanted to decipher that look, wondering what kind of thoughts came into his mind during your convo. Did he imagine the same positions you did? In the haze of sleep that slowly took you over, you couldn’t help but imagine a few more poses, wondering how big the men on either side of you were, how deep they’d go, what their mouths could do to you…to each other…

—

You felt the bed shift as Enjin got up. You opened your eyes as you watched him rise and amble towards the window, grabbing his pack of cigarettes and his lighter from the pocket of his coat hanging on the chair. He cracked open the window and lit himself a smoke. He looked good from where you laid down; his hair was down instead of in its usual slicked back state, the lamp light from outside highlighting his strong features and lips wrapped around the cigarette. You were slightly groggy, unsure of how long you’d been asleep for with the sky outside still dark.

You felt a hand snake around your waist then - signaling that Gris was also still awake. Despite the intimacy of the touch it felt…natural; comfortable. You trusted Gris as much as Enjin, and even then, you remembered what you were thinking about just before you fell asleep. It made the touch feel that much more delicious. As he let his hand lightly trail towards your stomach, you felt those butterflies from Enjin’s previous touch come back - responding the same way towards Gri's own calloused hands.

“Can’t sleep?” Gris gently asked.

Enjin glanced over at you both then, a tired but contemplative look on his face before a slight smile appeared on his lips as he took his cigarette out of his mouth.

“Both of you,” he started, his voice slightly hoarse, “I can’t handle both of you looking at me like that.”

You turned your head to see Gris was observing Enjin just like you were, a soft look in his eyes - something other than tiredness.

“Can’t help it,” Gris muttered, “you two…” you felt his hand press more possessively onto your belly. You put your hand on top of his, a silent approval. The blankets were pushed aside enough that you knew Enjin could see it happening. Maybe it was the collective tiredness making the conversation easy, the flow of it moving towards what you felt every one of you were thinking - feeling - in this moment.

Enjin finished his cigarette - blowing out the last of the smoke out the window and stubbing the butt into the ashtray on the windowsill.

He walked back to the bed, climbed on, but instead of laying down, he supported himself on his knees, leaned over to you (you could feel your heart beat faster)...then passed you, feeling his cheek brush your ear, and heard the soft sound of lips meeting behind you. You felt your body flash with heat - a sudden sense of embarrassment, a little bit of confusion, yet an ever present sense of lust as you processed what was happening.

Was this your queue to…leave the bed? But Gris’s hand was still wrapped around you. Do you turn to look at them? Or was this a private moment just for them? But if just for them, then why not move your-

Enjin answered your questions as you felt him move, back in front of you, and you moved your head only a little as he leaned in to kiss you next. When your lips touched it felt electric - and the warmth from Gris’s hand on your stomach radiated as it didn’t pull away, instead feeling it move slowly up and down. You could taste the lingering smoke on Enjin’s lips as he gently nipped your lower lip, prompting you to open your own mouth as he responded with another, open kiss.

You heard Gris give a soft hmm as you realized he was watching you two - probably just as much as you wanted to watch them. Enjin pulled away from you, and moved once again, leaving you feeling a little breathless as you heard him and Gris share a kiss again - open mouthed like the ones Enjin just gave you.

So this was happening. And the silent approvals of it all. You had never done something like this before, but it already felt so nice - cozy even, as you were sandwiched between these two large men. Enjin pressed himself closer to the both of you, leaning in to touch your body with his. You took advantage of this by wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him close, the sounds of the men kissing getting deeper.

When you felt them adjust to pull away, Enjin looked down at you, and a slight smirk brushed across his face as he dug his hand under you, between the bed and your torso, and, with shocking dexterity, flipped you so you faced Gris. You looked up at the other man - his own face blushed with a yearning look in his eye, and it didn’t take much for you to take the lead and pull him into a kiss. Enjin hummed in approval, his own arm reaching across the both of you to hold you both close, sandwiching you further into the two of them.

Gris’s own taste was fresher - mintiness from his toothpaste was on his tongue as you both explored one another’s mouths. You felt Enjin’s lips on your neck then, claiming space with his mouth on you as you tried to stay focused and not completely melt into both of the sensations.

You stopped asking yourself questions about what you should do - deciding to just let yourself go with the flow of things. You hooked a leg over Gris and used a free hand to run your fingers through Enjin’s hair as you felt him nip and suck on one spot. As you gently moved your hips, you could feel Gris’s hardness pressing against your leg, and Enjin responded by grinding back. He pulled his head away from your neck - breaking off right when it almost started to hurt (of course he’d be into being a bit rough). Gris pulled away as well, all three of you now simply existing in the moment, contemplating what to do next.

“What,” you found your voice, “or…how far…do you guys want to go?”

“Hmmmm,” Enjin contemplated, leaning his face into the back of your head and taking a small breath of your hair, as Gris seemed to have a bit of a moment, eyes a bit wide for a second after realizing all that just occurred. Maybe embarrassed? The hand you used to caress Enjin’s hair moved to Gris’s cheek to bring him back, or at least let it be known you were all approving.

“Umm,” Gris started, “well, let’s not…it’s late. And we gotta drive back in the morning.”

“I’m not sleeping with a hard on,” Enjin stated, and he moved to sit up, leaving your back suddenly exposed to the air, and heard him taking his shirt off.

“Oh, I’m not saying we stop in full!” Gris quickly blurted, “just…let’s not make a mess.”

You thought of all the possibilities - most of the images causing you to heat up and feel yourself throb now that all of them were realities you could pursue. Images of both of their mouths on your sex, you sucking one off while you’re being fucked by the other, both of them releasing on you…you realized you were probably leaving a wet spot on Gris’s shirt where you had your leg hooked over him.

“How’s about you?” Enjin tapped your head, and you moved yourself to lay on your back, releasing Gris from your grasp so you could give both of them your attention. You were mid thought wondering if you were even capable of taking them both inside you at the same time when he asked.

“I’m open for anything,” you admitted.

“Well,” Enjin continued, “Gris makes a good point. Don’t want to get exhausted, and showing up back to HQ looking a mess…Semiu would pick up on that immediately, I know it,” Gris chuckled at that, “but…now that we’ve established this that means we get to do a lot of catching up during our free time. And that’s where I have condoms and lube.”

“What, you didn’t bring those on a trash beast assignment?” Gris joked

“Nahhh, not this one,” Enjin egged on, “I usually save those for solo missions.” He gave you both one of his cheeky grins.

With penetration being out of the question, the three of you spent only a few minutes going over what exactly you wanted. None of you wanted to leave the other out, or missing, in any way. You had mentioned your enjoyment of receiving oral, Enjin enjoyed grinding, while Gris sheepishly mentioned he liked giving service in general. At the mention of this, Enjin re initiated things (just like him to be the leader), pulling you up and taking your clothes off. His own pants and underwear came off during the discussion, his hard cock bobbing with the motions of his movements.

Gris sat up to rub his hands over you - on your thighs, around your waist, cupping and grabbing your exposed breasts once they were freed from your shirt, Enjin moving to press a quick open mouthed kiss to your nipple as you moved your hand to touch his cock. You felt him move back and reach behind you as he tackled Gris’s shirt off, and once again kept you in the middle as he pulled Gris back into a series of deep kisses. You moved your other hand behind you, quickly finding Gris’s own exposed member and took it in your hand, with him reciprocating as he moved his hand between your thighs, and finally breaching the wetness between them as you sighed approvingly. As the two kissed above you, you gently stroked them, feeling the both of them twitch and jerk in response to you. You felt giddy - hearing them moan and kiss and edging them both on with your hands while Gris massaged and pressed between your folds, practically soaking his hand. When Enjin broke away from their kiss he muttered,

“Alright, now get back down,” to Gris, who let out a small breath of a laugh as he pulled himself out of your grip. He laid down in the middle of the bed as Enjin grabbed your hips and helped guide you to their goal. When you reached Gris’s head you opened your knees so one sat on each side of his head. You couldn’t see his eyes but still felt so vulnerable and exposed as your pussy was now in his full view. Enjin’s own hand then reached for you, breaching your sex a little more roughly than Gris had, but making you moan and shiver just the same.

“Geeeeeze,” Enjin mused, “all this already? You better not drown him.” You let out a shy laugh and heard Gris below you mutter something along the lines of “I wouldn’t mind,” as his hands grabbed your hips and guided your seat down. You did your best not to immediately collapse on top of him the moment you felt his mouth on your pussy, the way his tongue already had reached out and lapped your folds, your clit, everything.

“Hell yeah,” you heard Enjin mutter as he moved his own pelvis over Gris’s, making their cocks meet as he grinded against Gris’s member. You felt, more than heard, the vibration of Gris’s moans under you as Enjin grasped both of their cocks together in his hand, jacking them off in unison as he simultaneously grinded down. All three of you were focused on the bliss of feeling one another, hands that weren’t occupied were exploring and touching one another’s bodies as you gently moved and rutted against one another. At some points you and Enjin kissed, another time you replaced Enjin’s hand with your own as he moved his to press and rub against your pubis, fingers interlacing at times with Gris’s tongue against you. You paid attention to Gris’s movements, making sure not to press yourself too hard down on him, and laughing a bit when you felt him pull you down closer.

Enjin’s hands were on your hips then, placed on top of Gris own, and in a low voice asked

“Flip around; Gris can you let her flip around? I want to eat her ass, please?”

Immediately approving of the idea, you lifted your hips up letting Gris detach his mouth from you, and you heard him approve and add on “get your fill quick - I’m close.” Enjin gave you a quick kiss as both men helped guide your weakening legs to face the other way over Gris face. You looked down and locked gazes with the man below your cunt - his face wet and blissed out from you, eager for more as you gently lowered yourself back down on his wanting mouth.

Enjin used his hand to bend you over, where you couldn’t necessarily put your full weight on Gris, but when you felt a gentle nip on your ass cheek, and then Enjin’s tongue graze against your asshole, it made up for it in full. The three of you quickly got back into a small rhythm, allowing you to jerk your hips against their mouths, while Enjin’s own hips and hands made Gris shake beneath you - his closeness showing in how he seemed to tremble under the two of you. It was only a few more minutes until you heard Gris whine, “I’m close, I’m-haa,” you felt Enjin mutter the word “fuck” against you as you felt Gris’s grips on your legs tighten ever so slightly along with his orgasm. You felt him breathe heavily against your pussy as Enjin continued his relentless assault on the both of you.

When Gris’s movements slowed, it felt like there was a silent agreement between the two of them as they both suddenly laser focused on you. Gris used the tip of his tongue to rub your clit just right as Enjin used his own to lick up and down everything he could - using his nose to nudge your asshole and perineum. The feeling of both of them ravishing you made you last only just a few seconds, maybe a minute, but at least blissful and perfect seconds, before your band snapped and you quickly muttered your own arrival. You heard Gris moan in approval as Enjin whimpered against you as you came; juices gushing out of you and dribbling down Gris chin and neck. They let you ride your orgasm out as you needed, hips jerking and legs twitching as you felt the grip of lust release you beat by beat, until you were spent and almost collapsed down.

You lifted yourself so as not to smother Gris, and you felt Enjin’s mouth leave you as you gathered yourself together. Lifting your leg to unwrap yourself from Gris, you turned your head back to see Enjin kneeling, an almost annoyed look on his face as he continued stroking himself, panting and still hard but clearly not as close as he’d hoped. You realized Gris noticed the same thing as he let out a gentle laugh as he sat up, wiping his chin to try and clear off some of the mess you made.

“Take your time, it’s not a race,” he mumbled assuringly. You observed the two, with Enjin’s annoyed expression melting off as he stopped stroking himself and leaned back, using both arms to keep himself propped up. As your senses of everything returned to you, the euphoria of your orgasm gently fluttering down, you were suddenly aware, and embarrassingly unsure, of where to go from here. You were aware of the scene around you, the two men sharing this bed with you in the dim room in a place you’ve never been. You were on a mission and it was successful, yes, but what was…what was this now that you’d calmed down? Now that the tension had peaked? You felt yourself shiver a bit as the cool air around you made you feel your sweat, the wetness between your thighs. You closed your eyes, if only for a moment to try and re-focus. This happened. It’s…it’s happening, and you snapped back to the present. Gris came, you came, and then…Enjin was still waiting. You were surprised Enjin didn’t cum yet, especially given how well he led the two of you. But you knew you didn’t want to leave him out of this. Couldn’t make this a bad experience for him after you and Gris peaked. Surely you could do something, and you found your voice again,

“What would you like from us?” You asked him. Gris gave you an approving look as Enjin’s expression was hard to read, but he looked to really be contemplating. When he looked you in the eye his expression further softened, and with a sigh he muttered, “I do like it when you look at me like that. Keep doing that”

“Yeah?” Gris goaded him on.

“Y-yeah,” Enjin stuttered (stuttered?? Somehow this was more surprising than the moments that just transpired). He groaned and flopped himself dramatically back onto the bed, head hitting the pillow, “that’s what got me riled up in the first place.”

“What were you thinking about then?” Gris asked, moving himself to place a gentle hand on Enjin’s inner thigh, “by the window sill?”

“I was…” he started, “I was thinking about fucking the shit out of both of you. Of course we can’t do that right now but…”

Gris’s hand moved up Enjin’s thigh, getting to his crotch, then cupping his balls in his hand - despite expressing what he did, Enjin was still visibly hard, cock able to stiffly twitch as Gris went to stroke it. Suddenly, he was in the lead of you both, and you wondered at his experience…you knew it was your first time being in a three way, but…Gris? You wondered how much you still didn’t know about him. The man looked over to you and nodded for you to join him, and you obliged, sitting on Enjin’s other side. You ran your hands on Enjin’s lower abdomen, taking a moment to appreciate his body. You heard his breathing hitch a bit as you gently grazed your nails on him and Gris focused on the tip of his dick. There it was you thought, that’s the new goal. His body was well built, visible abs but nothing too showy. He looked like a model in this environment, tattoos matching some of the patterns on the blankets, and despite how they were blacked out you could see the details in the light that seeped in from the lamplight outside. It illuminated him better by the windowsill, but even here…and his tattoos looked so beautiful on him. You traced your fingers along some of the patterns, feeling him react in tandem with the strokes Gris gave him. Goosebumps rose on his skin in some places. When you reached the circle tattoo on his belly, you thought he looked so good…so you decided to voice that.

“This tattoo looks really nice on you, Enjin.”

“It does,” Gris agreed. Enjin bit his lip and put his hands down on the bed, mumbling a thanks as it finally seemed like he was getting somewhere. You continued to touch his body, deciding to continue with the compliments, telling him how sexy he was, how good it felt when he tongued you earlier, Gris adding in his own compliments, mentioning how hot it felt feeling him grind into him, how easily he took lead. Your hand joined Gris in pleasuring Enjin’s member and balls, and making sure to tell him how hung he was (which was true…you wondered if he’d fit alright when proper fucking would be on the table), maintaining that eye contact that drove him to start this whole thing in the first place. His hands were already tightening their grip on the blankets, and, had it been Gris grabbing them, you’d be worried about them being ripped.

It surprised you how quiet he was when he came, vouching more to breathe hot and quick out of his mouth, his head lurching back, eyes closed, and twitching just a little more when Gris called him a “good boy.” He painted his own torso with thick spurts of white, small whines coming through his voice signalling you and Gris to slow down and ease up as he rode out the rest of his orgasm. With the final one of the trio cumming and laying in bliss, the room felt comfortably quiet and warm. You decided to try and take initiative, giving Gris a kiss, then moving to give Enjin one once he came down from his high, and climbed off the bed. You went to the bathroom to grab towels, quickly cleaned yourself of your lingering wetness, then walked back to join the boys, Enjin now sitting up with him and Gris sharing a gentle kiss. You helped clean off Enjin’s abdomen, Gris wiped his face where he was still wet from you earlier, and everything else before the three of you collapsed back on the bed.

You were in between the two of them again, Gris and Enjin working, like gentlemen, to pull the blankets over you. You wanted to embrace both of them tightly - wondering if you could put one arm underneath each of them and suffer the consequences of sleep permeating your arms as payment. Enjin turned to face you and Gris, laying on his side and wrapping an arm around you - and while you anticipated him preparing to say something…he was suddenly out like a light. Gris turned towards you both, you looking up at him and smiling, while also realizing you were now officially trapped by Enjin’s grip. Gris joined him in the entrapment, deciding to cross his arm over you and you moved your own arms to adjust your hands so they could be placed on top of theirs. With all of you connected like this, and the warmth radiating from them surrounding you, sleep came fast, and easy.

—

“So about that,” Enjin began, touching his collar as he drove down the highway, “we got a late start.”

“How late?” You heard Semiu ask.

“Uhhh, what time is it?”

“Enjin…”

“We left like, 10 minutes ago.”

The silence was so loud as you tried to hide a laugh in the backseat, Gris doing the same as Enjin prepared himself for the lashing.

“You were supposed to be here in 10 minutes from now.”

“Hey,” Enjin tried to recover, “in our defense, the bed was really comfortable.”

You could all hear Semiu barely conceal her grumble “damnit.”

“Alright - I’ll ask Team Child to cover your asses for this next job, which was local and easy, by the way. So now you owe them when they get back for covering for you three.”

“We’re sorry Semiu!” You made sure to add.

“You!” she countered, “you are the one I’m most disappointed in - Enjin? Sure. But you and Gris? I’m shocked.”Before you could retort, Semiu added, “I expect you to explain yourselves in the report about the mission.” You smiled

“Yes ma’am!”

“Alright - well, drive safe. See you all later.”

With the call ending Enjin could finally laugh.

“Make sure to draw the positions we were in last night in the report ok?”

“Oh god,” Gris responded, “don’t even joke about adding that,” he turned to you, “please don’t add any of that to the report.”

“Goodness!” You exclaimed, “of course not! I’ll just say we were exhausted and the food kept us up.”

“That works,” Gris said, sounding too relieved, as if you would ever humor telling Semiu what exactly happened on the assignment. You smiled as Gris turned on the radio to cycle through stations, and you felt a sense of excitement come over you, realizing that this was all the start of something. You wondered if the two of them would be open for future encounters, especially in the comfort of your own quarters. Or maybe a hotel, with bigger beds. Like Enjin said, you could do a lot more back at HQ with proper accessories around. As the radio reached a rock station, Enjin waved Gris’s hand away from the radio and turned up the dial. The car flooded with the sounds of smooth rock as you eased in your seat to prepare for the long trek back, feeling content.