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moody-alcoholic · 4 months ago

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Chapter 1 - The Job.

I just don't know when to stop, if I don't have like 20 projects going at once I get bored. I waited until I had a name though, no longer will I be titling everything 'untitled XYZ fic. It was actually my fiancée who came up with the name.

Work summary: 141 retired and decided to open a delivery company. Only it's not a delivery company, it's a cover for less legal practices. Need a creepy stalker out your life? Someone owes you money? You need to disappear to a new life? Special Delivery Service has got you covered, for a reasonable fee.

Chapter Summary: 5.5k words, Simon x reader, female reader, name used: Dani (this is just personal preference, I don't like using Y/N.) You accept a job offer to work as an office admin for a commercial delivery company. Only the job is not quite as it seems and you come to learn neither are the people you work for.

CW: mentions of abusive ex, alcohol, language, flashbacks of domestic abuse.

masterlist - next

AO3 link

Enjoy <3

You see the job listing towards the bottom of the page:

Office admin wanted! To start immediately. MUST have a background in logistics. Send CV to: [email protected] Competitive salary.

It was short, sweet, to the point and the most promising job posting you had seen all day. You had a background in logistics, you’d just spent the last 3 years working as a supply chain manager. Mainly it was just organising warehouse deliveries but it was experience none the less. You copy the e-mail and send the CV, with a job posting like this you didn’t expect to hear a response back for a few days.

It was already 8pm you’d been applying for jobs all day. You decided to give up for tonight, the sofa and the TV were calling you. You head into the kitchen rummaging through the fridge to see what sad meal you would cook up tonight. You pull out a box of Chinese leftovers, they still smell good. You tip them on a plate throwing it in the microwave as you pour yourself a glass of wine. Turning the TV on channel surfing when your phone starts ringing, you go to pick it up. It’s not a number you know but you swallow your nerves accepting it in case it’s about a job.

“Hello?” You say.

“Hello is this Dani” A male voice comes through the other end.

“Yeah,” You reply feeling nervous all of a sudden, you sip the wine.

“You applied for the office admin job?” The voice says back. You have to think for a second, he can’t mean the job you literally applied for less then 10 minutes ago. You look back over at the laptop screen the e-mail still open.

“Hello?” the voice says.

“Yes, sorry yeah, wow I didn’t expect to hear back so quickly.”

“Yeah, we need someone to start immediately, can you come down for an interview tomorrow?”

“Sure what time?” You ask, you need this job, you need to get back on your feet.

“I’ll message you the time, and the address.” He says, you hear noise in the background sounds like a door slamming.

“Thank you,” you say as you hear the microwave beep.

“No problem, see you tomorrow.” He says and hangs up the phone. You take your food out the microwave and flop down on the sofa tuning into whatever soap was playing on the TV. You’re halfway through your food when you get a text with the address and a time. 10am. You copy the address and put it into google, now is a better time then ever to find out about this company. Special Delivery Service, SDS, you don’t know why that makes you chuckle, it makes you think of DFS, the sofa company. The address is close by only a few streets actually, you could walk there in about 20 minutes, that’s convenient at least. From the looks of the website it’s a commercial delivery company. ‘Discretion is our specialty’ it says as you continue reading, there is not much info just how to contact them for a quote. The pictures are mainly stock images bar the logo.

You’d never heard of them before but it’s not exactly like you’re in the market for commercial deliveries, it has good ratings though, that means something. You throw the phone to the side turning back to the TV. This was good, this is a good start it’s what you need to move on, maybe even a fresh start. It feels like the right time, newly out of toxic relationship, made redundant, all in less then a month.

Maybe you could use a nice change of pace, or maybe you would go to the interview tomorrow and it will be a complete waste of time. Either way it’s a step in the right direction and at least your mum will be happy you’ve found a job, you’re pretty sure she was dreading the thought of having to financially support you until you were back on your feet. Now you were definitely hoping the interview would will go well, the thought of having to rely on your mother to support you was the worst. You would rather ask your ex, Lord knows he owes you one. You finish the food and lounge around watching TV until you start to dose off. You peal yourself off the couch heading into bed, a good nights rest will do you good, besides you want to make a good impression tomorrow.

——————————

You get to the building early, it’s sunny weather for once and you can see the large doors to the building flung open. You peak in and see delivery vans, the whole place looks like it was an ex-mechanic shop. A figure catches the corner of your eye, he’s talking to another man walking across the floor, you can’t hear what they’re saying but the shorter man seems enthusiastic about something. Before you can get a better look they disappear out of your line of sight. You look over to what you assume is the customer entrance, and walk in. There is a man sat behind the counter, he seems distracted by something angrily typing on a computer. He sighs as you reach the desk, his eyes flicking up to you, he scoots back in the chair.

“How can I help?” He asks, his demeanour changing, he’s got a nice smile.

“I’m here for an interview,” You say suddenly feeling nervous. He nods getting up.

“Yeah of course, come through.” He says opening a hidden door in the counter and you walk though. He leads you through to the main room it still smells of fuel, this place definitely used to be a mechanic shop, you can see the covered up pits on the floor where they would access under the cars.

Your attention is drawn to the sound of laughing and you see the two men from earlier stood round a coffee machine. The taller man has his back turned to you while the shorter man is chuckling, hitting the taller man on the back. His eyes move to you, he’s fit, well built, tanned skin, he runs his hand through his slick mohawk, you could have swore he just winked at you. You turn your attention back to the man leading you as you reach a metal staircase.

The second floor-if you can even call it that-is furnished with sofa’s and a kitchenette, you can see a dart board and what looks like a pool table. Looks like a cool place to hangout. You feel bad for not asking the man his name as he leads you an office door. He knocks and you both wait.

“Come in!” a voice calls, you think you recognise it, its the same person you spoke to on the phone yesterday. The door opens and you walk in. You look at the man sat behind the desk, he looks older then the other people you’ve seen, his beard makes him look older then you suspect for some reason, you can see the bags under his eyes like he could do with long nap.

“Thanks Kyle,” He says as you walk in. Okay, his name was Kyle you’d have to remember that. He nods leaving the room closing the door behind you. The man behind the desk gets up as you walk over to him. He comes round putting his hand out for you to shake it.

“John Price,” he says as he nods at you smiling. You nod back.

“Sit please, coffee? Tea?” He gestures to the chair and walks back round the desk.

“I’m fine, thank you.” You look up at him smiling as you sit down. His office walls are massive windows looking down on the room below you can see people moving around now opening the back of the vans. You look back up at him as he takes a paper in his hand.

“3 years as a supply chain manager, studied business in college, pretty impressive.” He says putting the paper back down.

“Thank you,” you say, not that it’s really that impressive the only reason you did a business course was to make your parents happy. You had no idea what you wanted to do when you finished secondary school.

“So do you have any experience in warehouse management?” He asks leaning forward on the desk.

“Well at my last job towards the end, there was a lot of inventory organisation and I was pretty much left in charge of clearing the whole place out before the business went under.” You say, you’re not sure if that’s what he’s expecting, to be honest with the little research you managed to do and the vague job posting you were not sure what to expect.

“The jobs pretty simple. There are three main aspects, the first is the most important; the clients send us a list of good they need transporting, it’ll be your job to assign it to a driver then create the invoices, paperwork, the system is already pretty automatic. A lot of it is just data entry if I’m being honest.” You smile at him as he continues, so far it seems like a pretty easy job.

“The second part is when a client sends a special request, the system is not set up to handle them yet so they can come through as errors, with just an e-mail address attached. If you can assign them to someone great if not forward them on to me. The system will let you know if a driver has available delivery slots.” You nod as he finishes, you could handle this, data entry, assigning jobs to people, easy.

“Sounds good so far.” You reply. He nods.

“The last part is just your general office admin work, you’ll man the front desk, answer the phone, the boys will tell you if they need supplies ordering that kind of stuff. The hours are standard 9 to 5, 5 days a week, we’re closed Saturday Sunday.” He says spinning round in his chair and taking some paper from the printer.

“I live close by actually it’s really convenient.” You say.

“That’s nice, if you want the job I have a contract ready, you can start tomorrow then you’ll have the weekend off.” He says spinning back round straightening the paper out. That’s sudden, the job did say start immediately though, and you really need this job.

“Of course, that’s great.” You say smiling, hoping he can’t see your hesitation. He pushes the stack of papers towards you, you flick through the first few pages of standard workers rights.

“You’ll get 2 weeks paid vacation a year, sick leave and maternity leave should you need it kick in after a month of probation.” He explains, pretty standard. You flick through it to the end page with the salary break down. Holy shit!

“The job requires a certain level of…Discretion.” He explains. “You’re compensated for the inconvenience.”

“What like I can’t tell people were I work?” You ask confused. He looks at you like he’s trying to think of what to say.

“We have clients who expect their information to be handled, appropriately. On top of that some of your colleagues like to keep their work and home life separate.” He says eventually, you frown. That’s strange and he didn’t answer your question. You nod like you understand though, regardless you’ll take the 'hush money.' Especially since you’ll be making more then you’ve never made for what is basically a data entry job, and maybe having to answer the phone a few times. It almost seems to good to be true. You skim over the rest of the legal jargon and company rules.

“Any questions?” He asks as you pick up a pen, you shake your head and sign both pieces of the paper, then hand it to him. He smiles signing it too and ripping off one of the pages handing it back to you.

“One last thing.” He says hesitating for a second. “Do you have a criminal record?”

“No,” you shake your head. He stands nodding and you get up too, as he walks round the desk, heading for the door to his office and you follow him.

“I’ll get one of the boys to show you round before you leave.” He says opening the door.

“MacTavish!” He calls as you follow him out the room. You watch as a man appears at the bottom of the steps, it’s the guy from earlier who was laughing. He’s defiantly good looking there’s no denying it.

“Come show our new recruit around.” He nods coming up the stairs.

“If you have any questions let me know and I’ll e-mail you a full copy of your contract.” John says as he puts his hand out and you shake it.

“I will thank you,” you smile and he heads back into his office.

“John MacTavish!” The man says extending his hand out to you, he’s got an accent for a second you look at him confused.

“Another John?” You ask as you shake his hand.

“Aye, most people call me Johnny though.” He winks. Now you’re sure he winked at you earlier. He walks round you over to the sofa’s and the pool table.

“This is where we chill out between deliveries, or just in general. Do you play?” He asks pointing at the pool table.

“Once or twice, at the pub.” You say. You’re still trying to pin his accent, Welsh or Scottish? You’re too embarrassed to ask. He comes back over to you and you see he’s walking with a limp, it’s especially obvious as you follow him down the steps and he has to grip the banister for support.

“This is were we load the vans up with anything we need, toilets over there and next to them is the store room.” He says pointing to the rooms directly under the upstairs office. There are metal shelves filled with all different kinds of things from basic office supplies to what looks like medical equipment and machinery. The store room door is the only door you’ve seen with a key-code lock on it, makes sense. There is a long table surrounded by chairs and a projector against a far wall. You look over to see another man sat at the table typing on a laptop.

“This is Simon, Simon Riley.” Johnny says as he takes you over. He’s wearing a hoodie pulled over his head and a black surgical mask. Maybe he’s a clean freak? Or maybe this was what John meant by ‘Your colleagues like to keep their work and home life separate.’ You extend your hand out too him as you approach.

“Nice to meet you.” You say, he looks up at you for a second. His eyes are beautiful, a dark caramel, thick eyebrows and you can see strands of blonde hair peaking out from under his hood. He shakes your hand, his grip is firm, you swallow hard. He’s giving off a different vibe then the rest of the people you’ve met so far, you almost want to run away from him.

“Don’t worry about him he’s always grumpy in the morning.” Johnny says leaning into your ear. Simon rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to typing on the laptop. John, Johnny, Simon and Kyle, you repeat the names in your head so they’re burned into your memory. Johnny continues his tour showing you round the main floor, you were right as he explained the building used to be a mechanics until they took it over. Before that it was an abandoned munitions processing plant from the second world war. The building did look old, stylish red brick, huge arched windows that let in a lot of natural light. The doors were even old on rollers, thick and wooden. The more you looked around the more it reminded you of the old workhouses you’d seen in history books. Johnny leads you through to the lobby, the only part of the building that seems to have been renovated in the last 10 years.

“This is Kyle Garrick, we call him Gaz.” Johnny says as Kyle stands up and you shake his hand. He’s fit too, dark skinned, short hair and he’s got a lovely smile, London accent you can tell he’s local too.

“This will be where you work.” Johnny says pulling the chair out.

“I’m sure Price will give you the rundown tomorrow on how the system works, we’re still working on getting it up and running properly.” Johnny says enthusiastically. You nod looking round at the desk, there is a large printer/photocopier in the corner and a plant that looks like it’s seen better days. At least the computer is up to date and honestly you can work with this.

“So nervous for your first day?” Johnny asks as Kyle sits back down.

“Not really.” You say smiling.

“Good lass, that’s what we like to hear!” Johnny says patting you on the shoulder. Scottish, definitely Scottish. Kyle chuckles as he goes back to typing on the computer. You feel like now is the best time to take your leave. You thank Johnny and tell them both you’ll see them tomorrow.

“Wait a second lass, here.” Johnny reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a business card.

“Any questions drop me a message.” He smiles. You nod pocketing the card and heading out. You look back at the building as you leave seeing Johnny wave, you wave back awkwardly. Why would anyone care about keeping there home and work life separate when you work for a simple delivery company? You think back to Simon with the mask, maybe he’s just hygienic? Regardless it was a good job, close to home and good pay. You wouldn’t have to rely on your mum or your ex to get you through the month. At least that was a weight off your shoulders.

——————————

Later that evening your mother calls.

“Hey mum.” You say as you reluctantly pick up the call, not really feeling in the mood for her energetic energy, especially after Johnny’s enthusiastic tour.

“Hey sweetie! I was just thinking about you today and I thought I would call to tell you, Anne from church has a job opening at her son’s restaurant. You know Chris? He works at that nice Italian place, well I said you were looking for a job and Anne said she would put in a good word.” You sigh as you let your mother talk.

“It’s okay mum I got a job today actually. I went for an interview and they offered me the job on the spot.” You say.

“Oh sweetie that’s amazing where is it?” She asks, you pause, maybe telling your over sharing mother about a job you were warned required discretion was not the best idea.

“It’s just a small firm in the city centre, they were looking for a logistical analyst.” You say lying through your teeth.

“Oh well that sounds fancy, I hope it pays well if you’ll have to be trudging into the centre of London everyday.” You hear her chuckle.

“It does mum don’t worry, I start tomorrow actually.”

“That’s fantastic, I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“Thanks mum.” You say smiling. There’s a pause on the line.

“Have you spoken to Joe?” She asks, you sigh.

“No mother I have not spoken to him since we broke up.” You reply bitterly wanting to end the conversation now.

“He’s been asking about you, you blocked him or ignored him or something but sweetie I think you should talk to him he misses you.” You sigh, of course he’s turned on your mum, your sweet mother who couldn’t hurt a fly and always sees the best in people. Even toxic abusers.

“I’ll think about it mum, look I have to go I have an early start tomorrow.” You say.

“Okay well get a good rest and good luck for tomorrow I love you.” She says.

“I love you too,” you reply and hang up.

That night you dream of your ex. You’re still with him trapped in the cycle of wake, make him happy, work, make him happy, sleep, repeat. The verbal abuse, the physical abuse, the days he would lock you in the bathroom for hours on end.

You took the lock off the door when he moved out. You’re not sure why it just felt like the right thing to do. You bought a deadbolt for the front door and no longer sleep with the windows open, fearing he could scale the apartment building to get to you. That’s what he does in your dreams, he gets around all the precautions you put in place. You dream of him being in your space, questioning everything you do, insisting on checking your phone and e-mails, even your work ones. Anytime a male’s name came up he would grill you about it for hours, no matter what you said it always felt like he never believed you. But then he would make you feel good, take you to the bedroom and treat you like a princess and it was like he was a different person.

‘He’s just protective sweetie’ your mother says. ‘He loves you.’ The bruises on your arm would say otherwise, wearing turtle necks in summer became your fashion statement for at least a year. ‘He probably doesn’t mean it have you tried talking to him?’ Your brother was no better, to busy with uni to care, too much of a mans man to understand. He’s gone now though and that’s what you have to remember, it’s easier said then done.

——————————

The next morning you show up early. Your body feels heavy after the restless night. You walk in seeing John bent over Kyle’s shoulder as their looking at something on the computer behind the counter.

“Hey, maybe you can figure this out, we’ve been trying to get these documents to copy over and it’s just not working.” Price says as he steps back you walk round watching Kyle trying to drag and drop a file into a folder. An administrative error pops up.

“Mind if I?” You gesture for Kyle to move he holds his hands up rolling away on the chair as you try again. You’re not the most competent with computers but you could probably figure it out. You try compressing the file first then moving it and it works.

“What did you do?” Kyle asks.

“I think the file was too big so I compressed it, do you need it sent in an e-mail?” You ask looking at John.

“Yes please if you don’t mind.” You nod.

“Coffee?” Kyle asks as he gets up out the seat heading into the main building.

“Yes please.” You say turning to smile at him and pulling the chair over so you can sit down. Price explains how everything works as you get situated. He shows you the documents on the computer for how to answer the phone, and deal with walk in requests. The ‘system’ they have set up for assigning deliveries is basically just a glorified spreadsheet which is good, you can work with that it’s not too far out of your comfort zone.

“If you have any questions just call, there is a direct line to my office if you press 1 on the phone.” You nod trying to take it all in as Kyle comes back with a cup of coffee.

“I didn’t know how you took it so I just did milk.” He says.

“That’s fine thank you.” You reply, as he places it next to you. Then heads back. John tells you again to ask if you need anything then also leaves you too it. You’re looking through the computer making sure you defiantly understand everything when Simon and Johnny walk in.

“Morning,” you say to them smiling.

“Morning lass, guess we didn’t scare you away yesterday!” Johnny beams, he seems to have too much energy especially compered to Simon who is still sporting his hoodie and mask combo. His eyes lock onto you as he walks through the lobby, his glare sending shivers down your spine. In a strange way, you’re not scared of him, more intrigued. He walks through the counter to the main floor without saying anything.

“Sorry, he’s a rude bastard when he hasn’t had a coffee yet.” Johnny says.

“It’s okay,” you shake your head. You look through the window into the main floor watching Gaz open the large garage doors out to the street.

“Hey, if we’re both around at 12 want to get lunch together? I know this great sandwich place down the road my treat!” Johnny says. You nod, he really has a way of putting you at ease with his palpable bubbly energy.

“Right, I’ll see ya then lass,” he says and he heads through.

The morning goes quick or maybe it’s because everything feels so new and foreign that it takes you a lot of concentration to make sure you’re doing it right. Before you even try to do anything you’re already calling John in his office about the names, instead of it being Johnny, Simon and Kyle, it’s Gaz, Soap and Ghost. Gaz you remember but the other two it’s a 50/50. John laughs and tells you Soap is Johnny and Ghost is Simon.

Each time you give them a job they stick their heads round the door to pick up the invoice, you try to make it a habit of printing it out as soon as you assign the job, so it’s ready when they come in. You purposely give Simon a job over lunch so Johnny is free, it’s a little cheeky for your first day but you wouldn’t mind spending more time with Johnny.

When lunch comes around Johnny shows you how to set the phone to go to Price’s office and you both leave. The shop is right round the corner but by this time of the day it’s packed with people on their lunch break, you order your sandwiches to go and head back to work to eat them there. You’re both sat upstairs in on the sofa’s, it is nice up here and you can see down to the floor below you gives you something to watch while you eat.

“How’s your first day been so far then?” Johnny asks.

“Fine, it’s just getting used to the system that might take a while.” You confess.

“Yeah, you’re doing great though, my jobs have been smooth and easy all day.” He says. You nod.

“So how did you all meet?” You ask.

“Now that’s a story!” He says sitting up in his chair.

“We were all military together, SAS.” He says. That explains the company name Special Delivery Service, you chuckle it’s cute, funny now you get it.

“Why’d you quit?” You ask.

“Our time was up we chose not to re-enlist, it was Simon’s idea to start a delivery company, something easy we could do in retirement.” He says smiling at your interest.

“Did you ever kill anyone?” You ask, but then immediately regret it, you don’t know if that’s an appropriate question to ask. Johnny just laughs.

“Someone's got to deal with the bad guys.” He says winking.

“Don’t mean they didn’t fight back. Got a nice fucked up knee to show for it.” Johnny says slapping his left leg. That explains the limp he always has when hes walking.

“Has John always been your boss?” You ask moving it away from killing people and being shot.

“Price, yeah he was our captain, it just felt right letting him continue to tell us what to do.” Johnny explains, chuckling. You nod listening to him talk about their life in the military, he’s careful not to go too into specifics, but enough for you to understand it seemed like it was quite a dangerous job. Johnny mentioned something about bombs at one point, that’s scary.

“I bet you travelled a lot though?” You ask finishing your sandwich.

“Oh yeah! That was one of the perks I guess, been all over the place, met some great people.” Johnny says naming a bunch of countries off. You watch as Simon comes back reversing the van into the bay. He jumps out and heads straight into the store room. That reminded you you needed to ask for the code. Johnny gets up checking his watch and throwing his trash in the bin.

“Got a delivery to make, I’ll see you later.” He says heading to the stairs. You nod smiling. When you’re done you knock on John’s door before you head downstairs.

“Come in!” He calls. You go in, for some reason you get this feeling like you’re back at school walking into a teachers office about to ask them for the key to the storage room to get more paper.

“Hey, how’s it going?” he asks smiling, it almost immediately puts you at ease.

“Good, I was just wondering, the store room, Johnny showed me yesterday but he didn’t give me the code.” You explain. Price nods his head.

“You don’t need the code, it’s for the drivers only, it’s where we keep, sensitive equipment.” He explains. You nod feeling heat rush to your cheeks, maybe you should have asked Johnny instead saved yourself the embarrassment of this conversation.

“Got it, thank you.” You nod leaving the room and closing the door behind you. What kind of sensitive equipment? You hadn’t seen anyone moving anything in or out of there, and you’re pretty sure you saw Simon go in empty handed just now. You’re just more curious then ever. You look down the steps at Simon making his way up with a mug of tea in his hand. You wait until he has reached the top of the stairs before heading down. You smile at him, you can’t tell if he’s smiling back with the mask but you’re assuming he’s not. You make your way back down as he walks into John’s office without knocking.

The rest of the day seems to go by slower, your mind obsessing over the store room for some reason. It’s like an itch you need to scratch, you find yourself looking over to check it now and again. You get a few of those ‘special request’s’ John warned you about, you try to assign them but it doesn’t work. Clearly the system does not like it so you send them off to John. It’s almost like they’re encrypted, maybe you could figure out how to fix it and stop the system from freezing up every time it happens, a task for next week you think.

Jobs stop coming through around 3 and you spend the last few hours of your shift catching up on the other part of your admin job, then you find yourself cleaning the coffee machine. Johnny and Gaz leave early, apparently this is normal for Friday, you wish them a good weekend as they leave going out the vehicle entrance closing the garage doors behind them. You head to use the bathroom next, as you’re washing your hands you hear the door of the store room beep open and the sound of feet running in and out. You hear it open but you don’t hear it close.

You hold your breath, could it be? It’s open. You’re excited for some reason. You quickly slip out cracking the door. Sure enough the door didn’t fully close it’s stuck on the latch. Your curiosity gets the better of you, you can’t help it. You look round quickly, you don’t see anyone, you don’t hear anyone. You push the door open, it’s dark you can’t see inside. You take a step in and an automatic light flicks on. You gasp as you look around the room. It’s way bigger then you expected, so big there is enough room for a table in the middle. Each part of the wall is covered in weapons, knifes, somethings you don’t even know what they would be but they look scary.

The hairs are standing up on the back of your neck, it’s almost like your fight or flight has kicked in as your eyes widen. There are crates everywhere some open with what look like boxes of ammo. You let out a breath feeling fear rise in you, maybe it was airsoft? You move to look in one of the crates near the entrance. Nope those are real bullets. You shouldn’t have seen this you feel panic rising. This is bad and very illegal. You start to back out the room, slowly you’re trying to be as quiet as possible. Your body hits something, not something someone. You hear a sigh.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” It’s Simon. You slowly turn his head is tilted to the side his brow creased as his gaze burns into you. Fuck.

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onsomenewsht · 10 months ago

Text

All these people think love’s for show but I would die for you in secret

About when she’s got a smile and you got impatient

》 Leah Williamson × Reader

》 words count: 1.7 k

》 soft launch [verb, specialized]: to make a product, service, or business available or open for the first time, but only to a limited number of people at first

Being in a private relationship when you’re a public figure is even funnier than it sounds. And it sounds pretty funny as it is.

“You’re overthinking it”, Leah says, even if she knows better than to tease who’s literally feeding her.

You don’t bite back but keeping the plate slightly out of reach is a clear enough answer.

She smiles.

Oh, the way she lights up your day when she smiles at you.

You and Leah aren’t much for sharing your lifes on social media.

She’s been pretty much traumatized by the immense and not-really-that-unexpected attention after leading her national team to an historic tournament win. You’ve been scolded enough times by your agent to take your online enthusiasm down a notch.

So, your relationship flowered from two friendly teammates - who happened to share a room after a worth to be celebrated win - to an overly in love couple - who barely manage to store that many jackets in a four door closet.

You both understand the importance of some privacy to grow a love so beautiful yet so fragile, also not really caring about the outside world’ hot takes.

But one year of unplanned dates, dances around the kitchen waiting for delivery and shared stories in the middle of the night are a lot to keep just between the two of you.

Your teammates are way over your not-so-discreet looks during practice and your constant touch, the skipper never been one to shy away from a teasing kiss or wandering hands and you never back down an opportunity to make your friends regret every single life choose ‘til that very moment.

“We’re having a good time, aren’t we?”

“Yes, we are”, Leah raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

Oh, the way she lights up your mood when she challenges you.

“Such a cute moment to share with our loved ones, isnt?”

Leah looks around, the pasta dish shared in your kitchen island definitely counts as a cute moment for her. Sure, the fact you both are just in oversized t-shirts adding points to her case. Or yours, she’s not sure yet what point you’re trying to make.

“You want to share this?”, she gestures at the scene with a smirk, “We eating undercooked pasta in our underwear at unholy hour?”

“Yes, I want to share us having a wonderful time and perfectly cooked pasta”

Her blonde head tilts studying you, thinking it’s more about the fact you’re looking at her like she’s the reason why the sun rises every morning.

You’re feeding her, Leah’s own hands way too busy caressing her girlfriend’s outstretched legs to bother with food. And you can see her nipples through the overworn t-shirt of yours she’s on.

It's definitely about the nipples.

“What if I die tomorrow and no one knows I managed to win you over?”

“That's a way too dramatic turn, even for you”, but then she cracks up and you sure will die happy if this is how you meet your maker.

Oh, the way she lights up your home when she laughs at something you said just for the sake of making her happy.

“What? Life is unpredictable and McCabe is getting more aggressive with the age, I don’t know how much long I still have”

“And your main concern is the world knowing you won me over?”

"Of course not, my sunshine", you reach toward her, brushing your lips so close to hers she can already taste the wine you paired with the pasta. “My main concern is not being able to survive a tackle by Katie, even dead I have a reputation to keep and it’s your duty to defend my honor ‘til your own grave”

It is Leah who is closing the distance now, and even if you wanted to keep the jokes coming - still making sure she does make up a great story about your noble sacrifice if needed - Earth stops running around the sun when she kisses you.

You’re whipped and she’s honored, truly grateful for the opportunity to learn all your ways to show her and the people you care about how much love one can gift the world with.

“I love you”

“Why are you looking at me like that, Williamson?”

“I love you”

“Now you’re scaring me, are you the one dying?”

She knows you, she knows humor is your way to deal with comfortable and uncomfortable situations alike. She knows you’re always up for a good laugh, but she also knows you never say things just for the sake of a joke. Your words are always meaningful, your retorts always smart enough to look effortless.

“You wanna make some big announcement?”, Leah asks with a smile that’s held back by the seriousness behind the question.

“No, but I don’t want to hide us”

“We don’t hide”

“We don’t keep a secret, but sometimes we do hide”

It takes her a moment, but she gets what you’re saying. Your relationship is not hidden per se, not a secret and never denied.

But sometimes the two of you have to delay your greeting and wait for more private settings, or think twice before posting anything on your social media accounts. Sometimes she needs to withhold the instinct to rush to you and be the first to celebrate you for an incredible and game changing goal. Sometimes you need to hold back yourself, walking a step behind with your head down just to refrain from taking her hand in yours.

Usually, you two don’t even realize you're actively hiding the deep love no speculative-but-surprisingly-high-quality video edit can really capture. It happens regardless and it’s starting to make you feel dejected, Leah notices.

“Then we don’t”

You look up, stopping playing around with the now cold pasta. Your girlfriend’s hands are still on your legs, her soft touch never hesitant or refrained despite the tricky topic.

“What are you saying?”

“You know what I’m saying”

Your lover lights up again, the world lights up again.

She’s smiling a lot tonight, she thinks. She’s also perfectly aware of the permanent grin on her face whenever you’re around. She’s whipped too after all.

You wait for her to elaborate, so she does.

“I’m saying we do whatever we want whenever we want, and we share what we feel like sharing about our lives together”

“Whatever we want?”

Leah is pretty sure you have some very specific images in mind, you’re always taking photos of everything and everyone. Needless to say, your girlfriend is by far your favorite subject to capture.

Pictures of her sleeping with face masks on, or her frown while she’s playing board games and not necessarily winning, or when she’s trying outfit after outfit to make sure she’s dressed up for the occasion. Pictures of her taken during intimate moments, not necessarily suggestive but definitely meaningful given the nature of your relationship and the level of trust in each other.

She’s confident you have several photo albums of her in your phone.

You do.

That’s why when you reach for the long forgotten device, putting on a show of taking as many candids as you can, Leah happily plays along. Your shenanigans get a more creative direction, let's say, and some of the photos are taken just for the two of you to admire.

“We can soft launch”, she insists hours later, archives improved and clothes forgotten.

You’re lying on your back with her head placed comfortably on your thigh, sheet all over the bed. She can see your pensive gaze, despite you being at ease.

“Who educated you on such slang?”

“Beth but that’s not the point”

“It clearly is, she did the soft launch thing all wrong”

The hand you have between her blonde locks stops its ministration when Leah bursts out laughing like you just said the funniest thing possible.

“Let’s show them how it’s done!”

The next couple of days you both shared a bit more on your social media pages, nothing too revealing but enough to give your agent anxiety.

She posted a few photos on her stories, like a restaurant set up that’s most definitely a date and you from behind preparing tea in her kitchen in the middle of the night. Surprisingly you take a more subtle approach, posting teasing pictures but nothing really telling, even if Leah’s in most of them.

It lasts three days, by the end of which you’re even more pissed than before.

“I genuinely can’t believe it! You’re shoving her during practice and you two are basically married, but you post my hand on your thigh and I’m a really supportive friend”

The team’s admin posted some training shots in the morning and the vast majority of the comments are about the cute interaction between your girlfriend and Lia, the two always messing around a bit.

You’re mostly joking but the English capitan is aware that the constant rumors and the oversexualised comments she often receives upset you. Not sparked by jealousy, rather by the lack of respect towards her and her personal life.

“Relax, my love, they comment about us too”

She’s holding you from behind, her hands on your sides and her freshly washed hair leaving wet spots on your shirt. She lays her chin on your shoulder, trying not to giggle too much at some unhinged comments she can read under the posts you are scrolling.

“The way she looks at Leah: same”, you read out loud, faking annoyance. “Oh, that’s enough!”

You must have spotted something that snapped your sudden reaction.

Your lovely girlfriend stays unfazed in her position as you determinately search for a particular photo, type a caption, then stop to silently wait for her approval.

Leah barely nods, but you feel her smile and then her lips on your skin when you post it.

A picture of the two of you looking at each other with heart shaped eyes, dressed up to the nines since it was a snippet of a date on your summer vacation.

Her black attire was to die for and you sure died in some way. The blonde remembers in vivid details your care and attention, slipping it under her with such reverence later that same night.

She shivers, comments already popping in.

“You'd have tagged me”

“They know who you are”, your grin getting bigger by the seconds as you lock your phone and toss it away muted.

You turn around in her arms, and even if you know Leah’s most definitely sporting one of her best smiles, when you look at her it’s life changing.

Oh, the way she lights up your entire existence when her love for you it’s clear on her face.

You pick her up by her thighs, holding her as close as your bodies physically allow.

"Impatient", she teases.

“I’m gonna show you impatience”.

fine.

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #lw6 #here we go again #i dont even remember the last time a set and wrote just for the sake of writing #all typos and errors are mine look away #english clearly isnt my first language #be kind #its my first time here #my wo(rd)so

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onelittlespiral · 5 months ago

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Hey hi! I've heard you've got some kind of offer or sale going on, not too sure what its about but I'd like to buy your services. My best friend is a bit of ladiesman jock type and he keeps complaining he can't find a good relationship. So I wanted to know if you could maybe turn him into less ladiesman and more men's man, maybe daddying him up a bit? So i could maybe get a chance with him, and he'd get the relationship he wants.

Subject: Order #100714

Dear Dopple,

Thank you for your recent purchase from The Spiral, home for all your transformation needs! Your order #100714 has been received and is on its way as we speak. Your order includes:

(1) Daddy_From_Friend(Best;Jock)

(1) Mystery(Self)

Expect delivery in 3-5 days. Please note that joint delivery is expected.

Sincerely,

The Spiral

We knew you’d come around and round and round and round…

It was only a few days later when you heard another notification come through from The Spiral. At the same time, you hear a knock at the door. You were glad for the interruption. It was nice to head over to your friends’s apartment and hang out for the weekend. But if you had to listen to him complain again about how tough the dating market was for a white, straight, good looking guy like him you were going to scream. Glancing at the notification for a package delivery to this address, you realize that it is probably about time for the show to begin. No need to interrupt the process. You dart into the restroom as you hear him pick up the package. As you close the door, a rip is heard outside, and as you lock it, a faint poof is heard. A faint fog creeps under the door crack. It smells like fresh grass and sandalwood. Another notification comes through, as The Spiral provides you with product details:

Due to selected target changes, we have elected for our rapid delivery transformation system to best meet your needs. Upon receipt, subject will open box and full product delivery will commence. A dense cloud of product will be released directly onto target and rapidly absorbed. Your friend will age to around 35, with associated physical changes. His previously smooth, young body will change rapidly. Skin is expected to tan, hairline recede, muscles grow, and body and facial hair develop. As the product is breathed in, expect tastes to change. Your new friend will prefer whiskey and beer drinks, along with the occasional cigar. As mental changes set in, they will find themselves drawn to care and maintenance hobbies, like regular workouts, yard work, renovations, cars, and sports. He will be drawn to jeans and beat up tennis shoes or boots, and only prefer to wear a polo when they must go into the office. At the same time, his mind will be filled with images of men. Men staring at him. Men holding onto him. Men worshiping him. This will start the final change, a libido adjustment. He will feel a deep need to fuck, to control his partners, and leave his seed planted deep inside them. The added girth and heavy sack will ensure he never underperforms. As he adjusts and embraces his new personality, he will settle and seek a single partner to fulfill his needs.

Thank you again for choosing The Spiral

You finish reading and unlock the bathroom door, running from the upstairs bedroom through your friend’s spacious house to meet him on the porch.

He is standing on the porch, a box still in hand, just as described. You didn’t know he could be more handsome, but he has aged like a fine wine. He takes one look at you and simply holds out the package in his hand,

“It’s for you.”

For you? You check the label and he is correct. You grab the box and he crosses his arms, waiting. Unsure what is inside, you open the package.

“Ah, good. Been waiting for these,” he snatches it from your hands and inspects the well-worn frames. You try to turn away, but he catches you in his arms,

“This should make you behave.” He takes the sunglasses and sticks them on your face. In an instant, the world is dark. And then a pair of screens flicker to life. As spiral fills your vision, you try to take them off. But your friend is holding you tight. You can’t resist it’s allure for long. It’s right. You do feel so sleepy. As it counts down from ten, your body begins to sway and relax. But you can’t bring yourself to mind. The spiral knows best. You fade away, held in the warm embrace of release and the strong arms of a man…

You come to laying in a bed that feels familiar and foreign all at once. You scratch at your beard and inspect the scene. Lube is left open on the bedside table. Tank tops, jeans, and boxers are strewn over the floor. A pillow is still wedged under you. Heh, still got it. You wander downstairs as you stretch your muscles and rub some sore muscles from the night before. You find him in the kitchen preparing some eggs. Your love. Your master. Your beast in the sheets. You sneak up behind and wrap your arms around his waist.

“Stop, you’ll make me burn them.”

You don’t listen. You plant a kiss on his cheek. He turns around, spatula in hand, and smacks your ass.

“Act your age, boy.”

Something in that statement hits a trigger. You remember something. A younger body. Slender, taut, pale. A firmer mind. Less corruptible, less controlled. Then, you feel an arm around you.

“You okay, cuz you look faint. Don’t break a hip old man.”

You stare at your husband and the world comes into focus. He smirks and gives you a little growl, and you swoon a little in his arms,

“Give daddy a kiss,” he commands.

You lean forward, pressing your hairy chest against his, and love on your husbear.

“I’m going to finish these eggs. Go set the table and look cute,” he says with a wink. You walk off, dizzy for a new reason. You ignore the buzz in your pocket as you get ready for breakfast.

Subject: Order #100714 Fulfilled

Dear Dopple,

Your order has been fulfilled. We know you have many options, but thank you for supporting The Spiral.

Sincerely,

The Spiral

#straight to gay #male transformation #transformation #hypnosis #age tf #hairy tf #male tf #bogo

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wordy-little-witch · 7 months ago

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On my lunch break but a Thought-

Let's say Big Mom is trying so hard to get Buggy in her web. She's offering so much to get him as a son in law. She's tried everything, girls around his age, girls younger, girls older - then one day she has an Idea. She offers a son.

Karai Bari by this point is rolling with the delivery service, and in the time it takes the Navy and Crocodile+Mihawk to swoop in, the letter is in transit. Postal services take TIME. So it's maybe a month after Cross Guild has been established, and tempers have cooled enough. Big Mom's letter gets lost in post, and Buggy notices the absence of a letter and doesn't get upset - he's arguably happy about it. He HATES them.

A few months pass. Bonds are forged. Then Buggy gets a SLEW of letters. All from Big Mom, all offering hands in marriage. Most are men, some are a few women, and the age rages span a decent chunk. Buggy is complaining loudly about it, face down to the table and groaning. Mihawk, unimpressed, arches a brow when Crocodile grabs the papers and reads one. Then he blanches.

They argue over it for a while. Crocodile is adamant that a strong ally like that could be beneficial. Mihawk is ominously silent. Buggy is very vehemently against it, blushing and spluttering. Croc, in uncharacteristic leniency, doesn't push very hard. He's fighting this odd feeling in his abdomen. Indigestion, he's sure.

Big Mom receives his declination to all, and she is Done. She's running out of kids, but not out of options. She sends back a thinly veiled threat. He WILL be hers, one way or another.

Enter Cross Guild Panic. The men are vibrating, thinking she's desperate for Buggy for his power and prestige (he refuses to tell them that they're... not that wrong.) Mihawk and Crocodile are very not happy with this.

Leave it to Mihawk then to propose an alternative. "She wants you married into her fold," he announces apropos nothing, wine in hand. "She could not argue if you are already married."

"She could-"

"Not if you are married to a powerful person or two."

"... what."

"Did I misspeak? Marry one or both of us, Clown. We are in this together. May as well reap the benefits thereof."

Anyway, marriage of convenience to friends to lovers

#buggy the clown #one piece #cross guild #cross guild polycule #sir crocodile #dracule mihawk

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animeomegas · 8 months ago

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Ideal Valentines Day - Omega! Aizawa, Mic, Toshinori, Dabi

A/N: For the anon who asked <3 I wasn't vibing with Shiggy today, so I left him off. I feel like these all ended up being home dates, but I think being a hero or villain makes those easier lol. There are hints of n-sfw, but it's non-descriptive and very tame.

Aizawa

Actions speak louder than words for Aizawa, and I think his preferred love language for receiving affection is Acts of Service.

He has no need for material items, and that goes doubly for anything covered in hearts. I don't think he's a massive fan of chocolate. And flowers are just another thing that he has to sort out and try to keep alive as long as he can. No, he much prefers practical care on Valentine's day.

He wants you to pick him up from UA after work so he doesn't have to drive, a warm cup of his favourite coffee, far sweeter than his image would suggest, ready for him.

He wants to go straight home of course. When he walks through the door, he would love to see the house sparkling clean and tidy. It lifts a burden off him that he didn't even know was there.

There's no fancy outfits with him. He wants to immediately get changed into the comfiest clothes he has, and he would love if you did the same.

Dinner should 100% be his favourite takeaway, eaten on the couch, of course.

I don't know why, but I don't get the vibe that Aizawa is that interested in sex on Valentines Day. I think he'd prefer the intimacy to come from a shared bath or a massage.

And ideally the night ends early, so he can face tomorrow well rested, for once in his life.

Mic

Hizashi loves cheesy romance, he lives for cheesy romance! He eats, sleeps, and breathes it!

I think receiving gifts is something he loves, so get him a pink teddy bear, get him a comically oversized chocolate bar, get him a sappy card filled with cheesy love poems (bonus if you write them yourself.) He loves it all.

He also wants to be at home, because he's worried about people recognising him and interrupting the date.

He would love, love, love if he came home to a trail of rose petals to follow, he's always wanted to do that!

I think he'd enjoy cooking dinner together, just making a mess, playing around, listening to music.

Please pull him to dance with you, he will melt.

Once the food is eaten and the mess left for tomorrow, I think he'd want to do some sort of activity. A board game, a video game, painting together, anything! He's having fun as long as he's with you.

And then... well he's certainly not going to complain if one of your gifts to him was lingerie or a new 'toy'. And it would be rude to not try them out 😏

Toshinori

His idea of romance is old school. He developed his taste mostly from films, rather than experience, after all.

He wants roses so badly. He can't decide if it's more romantic to get a dozen roses, or just one, so he'll let you decide.

I think something private would be more meaningful to him because he's spent his life in the spotlight.

He wants you to meet him at the door with a rose/bouquet of roses, and then lead him into the living room of your home, where you've laid out a fancy dinner.

He wants the fancy dinner table to be set to the nines, he wants candles, champagne, and some food that he can eat. He wants classical music playing in the background.

And then he wants you to pull out his chair for him and wine and dine him until he's completely smitten, not that that's hard.

He doesn't mind if you order the food, but he'd prefer if you either made it by hand, or had it ordered from a special place as opposed to just off a food delivery app. He wants everything to feel special.

The best way to finish the night after dinner is with a movie. One of his favourite films, probably a ridiculous American action film or terrible romcom.

He needs some good old fashioned cuddling at the same time of course.

And because he's getting old, he wants to spend the final moments of the day tucked up in bed, talking about feelings and the future, and all the fuzzy things you're both looking forward to in your relationship.

Dabi

Dabi is softer than he will admit, which means Valentines Day with him involved tricking him into feeling loved.

You can't do things that are too typical, because he'll get spooked. If he comes home and sees heart shaped balloons or dozens of roses, he will flee the scene.

Luckily, he is utterly weak for pizza, so if he comes home and you've ordered his favourite pizza and got a video game/film set up, he can't resist.

"This isn't some weird Valentine's shit, is it?"

"It's just pizza, Dabi, but if you don't want any, I'll eat it all."

"What? In your dreams, knothead."

Once you've lulled him in with pizza and games, you can start putting the moves on him.

He's almost always down for sex, so that part is easy. The hard part is stopping him from escalating it into something rougher, and keeping it gentle.

He gets frustrated at first that you're being too soft on him, and it's at this point that you start lavishing him in praise and body worship. His frustration turns into bashfulness and Dabi gets kind of shy.

Let him know how much you love him.

And then, right when you're both about to drift off, wish him a Happy Valentine's Day.

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gothicflowers · 11 months ago

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Tall Doors

König x gn!Reader

SFW fluff

Warnings: fluff, no proofreading

The second you seen the plane he was on go out of view you got back into the suv that konig picked to fit his large stature. A large roll of cash tucked into the zipper of your purse. As soon as he got the news last week that he’d be leaving you could finally put your plan into motion.

*One month later*

The master bathroom had been gutted. The largest bathtub you could find had been installed and you even put in a walk in shower. You laid tile and repainted in one of Königs favorite colors. You’d done all the work yourself since you knew how to do it working for your family’s business when you were younger. The bathroom was now warm and comfortable, and could fit a 6’10 man very comfortably.

Your next project was going to make messes across the house but it will be worth it. The home that you and König purchased earlier this year was almost all original. But all the door frames stood 6’5. You’d be raising the door height as well as fixing the low hanging lights he always hit his head on.

*two weeks later*

All your work was finished. A new tall front door, new couch, new lighting fixtures, new bathroom. You even had a custom mattress and extra sturdy bed frame made so his feet wouldn’t hang off. All to ensure your love will never crouch down in his home again. All for him.

New message: this is a message from Kortac Delivery Services letting you know your package will be arriving tonight at 18:30. Please respond YES if you will be picking up your package or NO to stop receiving messages.

Replying YES you practically screamed in joy

He was coming home, two weeks earlier than expected. Overjoyed you made a stop at grocery store and got the ingredients for his favorite dish and picked up two bottles of his favorite wine.

Back home you had everything prepared and got ready in that outfit he loved you in. Fixxing your hair and applying a sweet perfume feeling ready to see your man.

“Ich habe dich so sehr vermisst Schatz” (I missed you so much my love)

“I missed you too”

One passionate kiss later and his large had guided you to the car.

He walked through the front door and froze.

“What wrong”

“I fit through the door” he said in a confused tone.

“Yes” you laughed and his eyes staring at the door. He walked in and out three more times.

“Meine Liebe, did you get a bigger door for me”

“Come see what else I’ve done”

He stood tall walking through the house. Comfortably even. His mask at some point had finally came off since he only wore it to and from work. He had the biggest smile when he noticed that you raised and replaced some of the lights that he would constantly walk into. Once into the master bedroom he let out a gasp. Looking at the hand crafted bed frame and mattress with silk sheets.

“It’s so big, oh Meine Liebe you… I can’t thank you enough. You treat me so well. I can’t express how much I appreciate what you’ve done”

One hand on your waist and one on your neck he pulled you in for a passionate kiss.

“Thank you Meine Liebe”

“You haven’t seen one of the best parts”

You pulled him into the newly renovated bathroom.

“I figured a nice tub to soak in would help your back” you stood in the middle of the bathroom admiring his reaction and his figure.

“This is perfect, truly meine geliebte��(my beloved) he said breathlessly in awe, lust in his eyes.

“I’m glad you love it”

“I more than love it, I can’t express. How about I start this bath, and since it’s big enough for us both it will take a while to fill… we go break in that new bed and I show you how much I appreciate you and then bathe after” his accent becoming deeper. His was holding onto your waist now. A devilish smirk on his.

“Natürlich mein König” (of course my king)

#könig x reader #konig x you #konig x reader #konig cod #konig mw2 #call of duty #konig x y/n #konig call of duty #flowerwrites

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paddooo · 4 months ago

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The day starts at 6am when Jason arrives. He's entirely alone in the kitchen while he does his prep work for the day, and he wouldn't have it any other way. Its blissfully quiet, just him and the days breads.

And then the two biggest assholes in the building arrive, 9am sharp. Their arguments a better alarm than any phone could muster. Nico and Leo, Executive and Sous respectively. An most unfortunately, two of Jason's best friends. The arguing was endearing once, 4 years ago, before they divorced. Back then it was almost playful. It only got genuinely aggressive during service, but it was always followed with an apology.

Now they hate each other from the beginning of the day right to the end. But Jason only has to endure listening to them by himself for an hour and a half before the last chef arrives. 1030am, his saviour, with an extra large coffee with his name on it, Chef de Partie, Piper is finally here.

There's exactly one thing that will shut Nico and Leo up, and thankfully for Jason, Pipes checks both their respective boxes. For Nico: a woman. For Leo: family. So who better to slap them upside their heads than Leo's sister.

Jason takes his mid morning break while Piper banishes the other two to the walk in and the pantry to do inventory instead of arguing. It's routine. They talk, eat breakfast, and mentally prep themselves for lunch service.

Today, there's a reservation for a group of 80 people, one Nico had spent the previous night muttering in Italian about. He wouldn't budge when asked if he knew something about the group. Leo had very carefully avoided eye contact, likely to avoid Piper's grilling.

They definitely knew the group. And they were not going to share that fact with the rest of the staff. All Jason knew was that he had signed for an emergency liquor delivery of some very fancy wine that morning.

#my me #valdangelo divorce #jason grace #piper mclean #leo valdez #nico di angelo #valdangelo

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heartshapedbubble · 1 year ago

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frederick and andrew with an s/o that loves giving them words of affirmation and acts of service??

here you go anon!!💞

frederick kreiburg and andrew kreiss with a s/o whose love language is words of affirmation/acts of service hcs🎼🕸

frederick kreiburg🎼

he's not as anxious as andrew, absolutely, but the exact same question runs around in both of their minds...

"do i really deserve this? why me, out of all people?" he wonders, even asking you directly, but he shall accept your affection nonetheless, out of appreciation and good manners

always feels guilty as he doesn't know how to repay you for your kindness, so in response to your kind words and acts he never forgets to shower you in praise

i'd say that he, when giving out affection, is bigger on the act-of-service and quality time part, at least on the surface, so he finds taking you out for dinner or opera the best way to thank you, refusing your pleas to at least split the bill

the time and moment(s) when yours' and his words of affection hit the hardest are during the dead hours of the night, cloaked behind the wine red curtains of his bed, your bodies intertwined with each other and his brain numbed out to nothing but the vibrations of your voice whispering praise into his skin, him pressing his lips onto your temples and combing through your hair with his fingers

like any artist, he's starving for praise - although, obviously, he won't ever admit it as he's well-mannered - and will cherish every single compliment or affirmation you give to him, never forgetting to get back at you with one when you least expect it from him

andrew kreiss🕸

ashamed and his face completely pink the first time you insist on helping him with reading labels or you compliment his hairdo that day - not going to lie, he's going to become a bit selfish and start craving it even more, going to extreme lengths just to hear some more gentle praise seep out of your mouth or to feel the softness of your palm through his leather gloves as you lead the way

the sudden ego stroke is new yet so incredibly addictive to him to the point he might become clingy or way more affectionate than he usually is, not wanting to let go of this daydream he's living in

in response to your affection - he obviously has to shower you with twice as much love and care, no? it's the only reasonable thing to do in his eyes

as much as he's determined to get back at you he's still incredibly shy in delivery, muttering it out nervously and maybe even rushing whatever he wants to help you with in fear that stretching it out will increase the chances of him embarrasing himself and ruining the image of him you have in your eyes

it's scary, leaning his head closer to your face to kiss it, complimenting your appearance that day, tending to your injuries in fear that he might mess up the wound even more and cause even more harm, gifting you some fruit he picked from the garden - brand new opportunities, leading to hundreds of both good and bad outcomes yet if it's for you, then he shall combat his fear of failure

as much as andrew seems naive due to his upbringing he doesn't trust people that easily and now that you gained his trust he's going to become very protective of you especially if you two end up in a match together, not letting the hunter (or the other survivors) get a single hit on you

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hauntedandmurdered · 1 year ago

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Clannibal

"Can't stop thinking 'bout you"

A/N: PART 1! You should definitely read to the end 🔥🌶

Full story:

When Starling woke up, she felt a sharp pain pulsing in her neck and straightened up a little in the old, shabby leather-covered armchair. She had once again fallen asleep in her living room in an extremely unfavorable position for her spine and was still holding the whisky glass from the previous day in her right hand.

On the large screen in front of her, the news flickered at the usual time. Starling couldn't remember turning on the television. As her gaze roamed the living room - there wasn't much to see here, Starling's furnishings were minimalist, almost as if she was about to move out, or rather, as if the house wasn't really inhabited at all - she put the empty glass down on the nearby table. She listened, but couldn't hear a sound.

With a routine grip on her thigh, she made sure that she still had her service weapon on her. Then she stood up and walked quietly towards the kitchen.

"If anyone is hiding here, come out now and I won't shoot. You have my word," she said and let her eyes wander from the kitchen island to the fridge.

Nothing happened, not a ghost stirred. Starling closed her eyes with a sigh and lowered the gun. Even when she had been suspended from the FBI, she couldn't be free of the thought that she could walk into an open fire at any second. Who was she now without her job at the bureau? A lonely, doomed creature who had herself to blame for her situation. She had sacrificed everything that was important to others in life for work. She had let the FBI take over her entire being like a parasite that kept a sick body and spread unhindered. Starling was left with nothing.

Her eyes took in the bottle of wine on the kitchen counter next to the toaster. Nothing but Dr. Lecter's birthday present, she thought with a wistful smile. She wondered if he had the same exquisite bottle of wine, Château d’Yquem, from her year of birth in his cellar and thought of her when the fine drops rolled over his oddly shaped lips. She wondered how he had changed in the seven years since his escape from the cage in Memphis. Had he perhaps had surgery on his face in order to secretly disappear? And if so, where might he have gone into hiding? Perhaps she had already met him without knowing about it. Perhaps he had brushed her hand in passing like a gentle breeze.

When her phone suddenly vibrated, the hairs on her forearm stood on end. The FBI had nothing more to say to her, she had talked to Barney about everything that needed to be clarified, and Ardelia Mapp, her former roommate, had no reason to contact Starling anymore. Perhaps a food delivery man would call her to remind her to eat a meal again? Starling had hardly eaten since being thrown out of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. When she thought of the triumph and the perfidious satisfaction in Krendler's eyes, who was more or less responsible for her dismissal, she almost wanted to vomit.

She took a deep breath and picked up the phone.

"Starling," she said expressionlessly and waited for a response on the other end of the line.

"Good morning, Clarice. I hope my call didn't wake you up. Your voice sounds hoarse, as if you've only been awake for a few minutes. Am I right in my assumption?"

"Dr. Lecter," Starling murmured and all tiredness vanished from her bones as if by a whip lash. It’s a dream. I must be dreaming.

"Have you already had breakfast, Clarice? Or have you tried miserably to cook yourself a scrambled egg for breakfast?" It wasn’t even close to a dream. She was wide awake, every nerve ending in her body was electrified. Hannibal Lecter sounded a touch too amused to be believable. Clarice rather suspected he was trying to disguise being aroused by her morning voice.

"How did you get my number?" she replied without responding to his charade. Unlike him, she made no secret of her suspicion.

She could tell from the tone at the other end of the line that he was smiling. In a blurred vision from the past, she could see the pink tip of his tongue parting his lips and his face twisting into an indecent grimace.

"Shouldn't you be asking where I am at this very moment?" He had lowered his voice to a steely whisper. "Wait a minute, Clarice. Want me to give you a hint?"

For a split second, Clarice was tempted to hang up the phone and put an end to his thieving joy by ringing the dial tone.

"Clarice," he said urgently, as if he had the gift of reading her mind. "Don't hang up. You'll regret it."

"Are you in my house, Dr. Lecter?" Clarice asked with all the self-control she could muster to restrain her rage. She switched off the light in the kitchen and went back into the living room, where she was greeted by the first rays of the dawning sun.

"I can feel your presence here and now, ex-FBI Agent Starling. You’re so close. You know what's even better? I can even smell you. L' Air du Temps, very seductive. When we first met, you avoided spraying yourself with a fragrance. Do you remember? My memories of that day are more vivid than ever."

Suddenly Starling could hear his unmistakably velvety voice twice, and it certainly wasn't due to the residual alcohol from last night's whisky.

Her eyes darted feverishly around the room until they lingered on a slender figure by the curtain. She felt a pang in her chest that almost robbed her of her senses. The phone slipped from her hand. She had often imagined her reunion with Dr. Lecter in her dreams; most often she had fantasized that she would meet him when he was put back behind bars. She would have visited him as an act of courtesy and asked him about his condition, told him about Buffalo Bill and much more. He would have reminded her with amusement that he had always followed the downfall of her career with great interest.

Something about his appearance was still as remarkable and mesmerizing as ever. Even at first glance, it was obvious that he was wearing a tailored suit that emphasized his defined shoulders. In the meantime, a few gray strands had mingled with his thick hair, but that didn't make him seem any less sublime. In contrary, Starling caught herself thinking that he looked better than ever.

"Hello, Clarice," he broke the silence before she could speak. Frankly, Starling was struggling with what she was going to do. His gaze pinned her to the spot, drilling into her marrow like poisoned arrows.

„You shouldn’t be here“, Starling said shaking her head in disbelieve. „They are not only observing you, Dr Lecter. Their lack of confidence in me certainly leads them to watching my neighborhood to make sure I don't make a move that gets in their way.“

„Are you worried about me?“, he asked and took a large step towards her. She didn't back away from him.

„No, I’m worried about us“, she hissed at him. „What are you doing here? Tell me. Tell me now.“

"Is it so hard to believe that I cared about you and wanted to check on your well-being? Clarice, you must have learned a thing or two about me over the years."

„Why is that, Dr Lecter?“ Starling felt her lips trembling with both fear and excitement. „Why do you like me? I need to know for good.“

„Quid pro quo?“, he said with a hint of a smile. „Isn’t it quite obvious why we’re drawn together, hm? Don’t you feel things you can hardly allow yourself to feel when I am around? And don’t you think about us in situations – practices – that almost make you dizzy with desire? I know I do. In fact, I knew I did ever since you came back to me into the dungeon after our first interrogation.“

Starling felt the blush rise to her face.

„Make an effort to answer now, Clarice. Quid pro Quo“, he whispered and took another step in her direction.

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