#i certainly hope they appreciate the list- it took me all day when i first made it and i still update it when i watch something new ☠️

[todayisafridaynight]

NEVER SAY YOU'RE SLOW AGAIN YOU'RE INSAAAAAANE

But OK OK OK... SORRY AGAIN FOR THE MIX-UP please enjoy 😭😭😭😭😭

The list was not lacking at all I Very Much Enjoyed the formatting and commentary + how you went about introducing the media :] definitely could've used something like that when I first got into things LMAO so I'm sure it'll be a big help in navigating their works!

im just slow when im being watched i guess LMAO

AND YEAH NO IT'S GOOD I'M WATCHING IT NOW ACTUALLY- REALLY fuckin with the production quality... i smell a budget incresae.... or just better lighting and cameras idk POINT IS i like how blue and bright the office was ♪(´▽｀)

i'm glad it was decent at least :] i didn't want to ramble too long or make a TOTAL review, just The Necessary bits or stuff i was Especially fond of so i do hope it's helpful and informative to her (and that it makes things sound interesting- she told me it did anyway (❁´◡`❁) )

[onestepbackwards]

Love that Bites Pt. 13

IT'S DONE AAAA Sorry this took so long, I have had a rough few months, it's made it hard to write and focus. BUT! This chapter is at least 8000 words to make up for it! I hope you enjoy!! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

Summary: Despite what he had hoped, Dracula has decided to spring a talk of 'business' with you earlier than he had intended. He anticipates it to end in disaster, destroying what little peace you both had. However, he finds things might not end like he presumes...

CW: Anxiety, talks of depression, allusions to abuse, mentions of murder, mentions of sexist behavior, brief mentions of injury

Word Count: 8039 Words!

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Tag List: @kittenlover614 @simpytheshrimpy69 @midgetdemon17 @just-nother-dreamer @adrakeshoard @tilldeathripsusapart @thedeadlynights @pumpkinvampie @bethleeham @mshope16 @sixsixtwenty @haleypearce @rvautomatic @tinystarfishgalaxy @marshmelloe @maorizon @ursamajor17 @sapphicsfordracula @dame-sunflowers @sleepyendymion @starrlo0ver @onewiththebeanbag

First: Here Last: Here Next: Here

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Dracula, if he were being honest with himself, had dread when this day would come.

Deep down, he knew eventually you two would have to talk. There was no getting around it, no avoiding it forever.

After all, you were still a Belmont, and he was King of the Night.

He had known this talk would come before he eventually had been freed. How you mentioned wishing to talk instead of immediately engaging in battle.

However, he would admit that a small part of him looked forward to this, especially before he had been freed from his stone prison.

Back then, he could not help but imagine different scenarios of himself and you discussing the future. This primarily was before he had got to know you a little bit more with each ‘visit’.

Before you broke the curse on him, he had planned on using this talk to gouge your own plans, and see just what kind of a Belmont you really were.

Would you be all bark and no bite? Or was the idea of wanting to talk really just a guise to make yourself more high and mighty than him? Another ‘holier than thou’ spiel he had heard countless times throughout history, and still managing to condemn him?

Perhaps it was even a trick to try and lower his guard? Just to attack like a snake on unsuspecting prey?

Not that he would have let his guard down that easy in the beginning, of course…

Other questions though still had run through his mind at the time as he slowly grew to know you in his imprisonment.

Were you really different? Did a small bit of Leon still persist despite the generations of Belmonts? Was it truly kindness that shone bright in those tired eyes of yours?

It certainly wasn’t naïveté, despite what some may think. Those eyes of yours had seen too much to be dull witted. Any kindness you had to give, it was because you chose to, despite knowing the risks.

That kindness, and your interest in asking questions for yourself. That still drew him in.

However, as time went on, it became almost alarmingly clear that you were in fact serious about this. How you didn’t particularly want to battle him, at least not without hearing him out personally.

No power play here, no desire to put yourself above him while seemingly giving the vampire a chance.

You were a rarity that Dracula didn’t want to let go. Especially when you were just within his grasp.

Humans like yourself were rare, he didn’t want to just let you slip through his fingers, even if you were a Belmont.

If anything, that made it all the more important to try and sway you to see his side of things.

Or to at least… come to an understanding.

However, Dracula was all too familiar with how finicky fate could be. Should he try and lock you away or strongarm you into staying, he’d simply be pushing you away.

It also didn’t help that the idea of simply holding you hostage didn’t sit well in his gut. The last thing he wanted, (even if he refused to admit it out loud), was for you to hate him for stealing you away.

…He would admit he did consider it, though. Dracula had already lost so much, was it hard to blame him for wanting to protect this Little Belmont who was clearly a hidden gem amongst the rotten trash that was humankind?

Still, he couldn’t afford to risk losing you to his own arrogance. Not like this.

Unfortunately though, you unintentionally threw a wrench into his plans.

Originally, he hoped to have you here for at least a week, if not two. During that time, he planned to gleam who had hurt you, and deal with them swiftly if need be.

All while healing you, and seeing if he could push past a few of your walls.

That way, hopefully when you eventually had to have a talk with him about where you both stood, he had hoped he would have enough information to form a way to convince you to stay.

Alas, things never went to plan for him. Fate seemed to enjoy taunting him that way, it seems.

Despite how receptive you had been to him, and how you accepted his care, you surprised him with what you had to say.

How you could not stay much longer. You had to leave soon.

Your words weighed heavy in his heart. However, it became clear this wasn’t exactly a choice you wanted.

It seemed you were oddly reluctant to even mention why, clearly unhappy and anxious about the idea of going back.

That had alarm bells ringing in his mind.

The Lord of the Night was no fool. When he wasn’t constantly being slain by your ilk, he was a ruler, a leader, and a tactician. Among many other things.

No one lived as long as he, and not pick up on different things about human behavior.

A part of him wanted to puff up in pride. You seemingly wanted to stay.

But that was unfortunately a double edged sword, so it seemed.

Sure, you were receptive to his care and being his guest, but that was far from being entirely trustworthy and comfortable around him.

…So just how bad was your home life for you to prefer staying at his castle, even after someone already tried to foolishly tamper with your life?

You seemed a bit dodgy when he delicately prodded about your home life. However, the less you said, the more of a picture it seemed to paint.

No words had to be said for him to assume the worst. The wounds you had must have been from wherever you resided outside his castle.

Yet you stubbornly refused to give him details. Even if you were different from your ancestors, you were still very much a stubborn Belmont.

It would be endearing, if not for the fact he worried about your safety the moment you left his property.

And the fact he had to have this conversation with you now, rather than when he would have liked. He had at least hoped you would be in a better physical and mental state before he sprung this talk on you.

After all, you both couldn’t ignore the elephant in the room forever. One of you would either have to give and declare war, or… Perhaps meet halfway.

Even though he hoped for the best, Dracula was well aware this may end in disaster. He at least hoped it wouldn’t be too explosive.

He’d like to at least fight you on even ground with respect, like you had wished to do for him.

The last thing he wanted was to fight you as you looked up at him, clearly still incredibly injured, despite what the potions have done for you so far. He wouldn’t underestimate you, but he knew that you would no doubt leave with permanent damage if you managed to win.

And if he were being honest, Dracula didn’t want to deal with the whirlpool of emotions he no doubt will have to suffer from if you choose to try and destroy him.

He may be a prideful man who didn’t like admitting his faults, but he was well aware how badly he handled losing someone last time. He didn’t want to kill you or try to hurt you with his own hand.

So he donned his King of the Night mask. Ready to face the music.

Your reaction to his change in demeanor was instant.

Those wide eyes of yours sharpened, and he could practically see the hair on your neck stand on end. Seems a hunter’s instinct never rests.

It was almost fascinating to watch in real time, if he were being honest with himself. Any Belmont he had faced, almost exclusively were ready to fight him from the get go.

So to see you so subtly shift, as if a snake preparing to strike, or a cat ready to react with a strike of its own…

Dracula would be lying if he didn’t find such a sight interesting, stirring a set of feelings in him he thought he had long since buried. A shame he had to see such a shift when he might become your enemy in mere moments.

The air around you both was tense, and was charged with enough energy Dracula idly wondered if it could charge a light at this rate.

“So,” Dracula began, his voice becoming a bit of a bored drawl, “what exactly do you intend to do now, Little Belmont?”

Your eyes nervously bore into his own, and you swallowed thickly as you sat up straighter.

“What I intend to do?”

Dracula kept his lips from curling up into a grin. He at least would try to hold off from antagonizing you like he would with annoying diplomats from other monster and vampire clans.

“Yes. Forgive me for being rather blunt,” he began, his eyes glowing idly as he watched you for any change in behavior, “-but you know as well as I do, that we can’t just pretend the other doesn’t exist after you leave.”

It was subtle, but he recognized the calculating look on your face after he finished speaking. He wondered what thoughts were flying through your head as you scoured your mind for an answer.

Dracula knew his words had to be thought on, though he also imagined you probably had thought about this long before he had even been freed. Although, imagining what one would say in such a situation, and being in the situation you had imagined didn’t mean things would go as one planned.

You were silent for a moment. Then another.

Dracula didn’t mind, nor did he rush you. Despite his shift in attitude, he didn’t intend to push you to make a choice at that exact moment, even if he did put you on the spot.

Though perhaps, that may just be his thin veiled excuse to keep the peace, just for a little while longer.

After a few more moments, you let out a sigh, and put a hand on top of your head. You averted your eyes from him, and closed them.

“I… I don’t wish to fight you.” you began, almost tentatively. Your hands gripped the blanket nearby, and began to fiddle with it.

“You have been very kind to me since uh… Since you were freed from being a statue. You didn’t have to do that, for me of all humans.”

For a moment, your eyes met his own, and Dracula felt some tension in his body lessen, just ever so slightly.

So you didn’t wish to fight him either. It was one thing to suspect as such, but to hear it from your own mouth relieved him in a way he couldn’t explain. No doubt it also took a lot for you to admit that, to your own destined adversary.

But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t fight him. No, it was clear you would if you had to. The words were unspoken, but still there.

Despite this, you were still clearly nervous, your heartbeat pounding hard enough for him to hear in the quiet room.

“I’ll be honest. I… may be a fool for admitting this, but…” you began, your eyes flickering between your whip, which sat next to you on the bed, and Dracula himself.

“...I probably wouldn’t even win. What’s the point, anyway?”

That was indeed surprising to hear from your lips. The way you practically sagged as you admitted such a thing, showing just how tired you really were.

Dracula could see it now. It wasn’t just exhaustion in your eyes from whatever happened to you at your home.

You were tired of life. You were tired of the burden you had on your shoulders. You didn’t have much to fight for, anymore.

Dracula felt those words of yours tear into his heart. They struck a chord with him in a way that was almost unsettling.

“If I fight you, then what? I ‘win’? There’s nothing in it for me. Sure, I save humanity, or whatever-” You say, making finger quotes as you shake your head, “-But then I just end up back home in my own hell hole, no doubt with injuries that can no longer be healed. Then I’d still be expected to keep hunting.”

It was strange, as if a dam had broken within you. Dracula had a feeling this was something that had been building for years. No doubt from when you were a child, thoughts like those had been swimming in your head. Especially after you had lost a parent.

“Plus, what then, you rise again in a century? If even that? I know for a fact sometimes you have risen in half that time. What’s the point then? Just holding off until the next battle until someone else in my family stands up to fight you?”

Blinking quickly, you rubbed one of your eyes with your wrist, clearly trying to hold your emotions in check. The conversation clearly weighed heavy on you when you were already dealing with enough as it is.

He’d admit though, it was surprising to hear this from you.

Some Belmonts seemingly had been eager to seal him away. Either for glory, or the sake of mankind, thinking it a triumphant thing to succeed.

Here, you simply showed the opposite. How cruel fate really was, how winning against him was nothing more than a temporary, hollow victory in the grand scheme of things.

And how those words of yours echoed deep within his own mind. How many times had he been forced to answer the call of humans and other forces since he was killed that first time after Lisa’s death?

Those first few times, he had been vengeful. But after he had fought with his own son one on one, it had become increasingly clear how hollow his life had become.

How far he had sunk since he even lost his own dear Elisabetha.

How he encouraged this lonely life as a vampire after losing his first wife, then grew to detest the cursed cycle he had been put in after his second wife was murdered.

Fated to be the monster talked about in folk tales to keep children from misbehaving, only to reappear due to the whims of Chaos and Order. Cursed to be revived, when after all these centuries, he had finally wanted to rest.

He was tired too.

At least he was living in the hole he had dug for himself. He had no one to blame other than his own self and actions.

But there was a strange pang of sympathy for you in his chest. His actions were his own doing, but you? Your family was doomed because of both him, and your ancestor who created his whole clan just to slay him and his kind.

You were born to slay him, for better or for worse. Raised to kill him, and if he didn’t appear, raise a child in your family to kill him in your stead.

Did you even get to live a life of your own? Dracula doubted you could, unless you completely cut all ties, probably having to go as far as to change your own name.

After all, any Belmont was free game, regardless if they hunted or not. If there was a chance someone was related to a hunter, let alone a Belmont, beasts and monsters would hunt them for sport.

He would say at least you had your own family to support you. In the past, that seemed to be the case.

However… If your own family treated you like the dirt they walked on…

No wonder you were tired.

The room was silent for a moment, the tension having morphed from something tense and anxious, to somber and dreary.

“May I ask you a question?”

Dracula was almost startled by your voice, and how soft it had gotten. You were now looking out the window, watching as rain had begun to fall. A rolling thunder was heard off in the distance.

He wondered if that was due to the castle, or from him from the dull ache in his chest.

“You may.”

Dracula was also surprised by how his own voice had softened. He prepared himself to act like The King of the Night, yet here he was, already unable to stay cold and curt with you.

How his icy demeanor had already cracked seeing you so… broken.

It was silent for another moment as you gathered your thoughts.

“Why bother at this point? Is not coming back again and again exhausting? Why keep planning to attack humanity?”

At first, the questions seemed piercing and aggravating, until you finally looked back over at him. Those tired eyes of yours meeting his own.

“No one ever really told me. I have an idea, but… Most of what I know I learned from old journals. I highly doubt things written by a victor are always 100% accurate.”

That familiar, proud warmth stirred in his chest amongst the painful feelings that swirled from old memories.

But this… this is what he had wanted. When was the last time he got to explain his side?

…Though to be fair, he knew he would be seen as wrong, regardless of what he told you. However, it was still nice to at least have a chance to explain, without immediately being called a heartless monster first.

You at least were curious. You wanted to know for yourself, rather than just believe the words of your ancestors without thought.

Truly a marvel for most humans, even now.

Dracula looked over you, and how your eyes still watched him with a wary, curious gleam.

He sighed.

“Several centuries ago, my wife, Lisa, was murdered by humans.” Dracula began, letting himself relax slightly as he began to speak. You, meanwhile, sat up a bit further, clearly interested in what he had to say for himself.

“She insisted I go travel, and that she would be fine in the small home we had built away from the castle. Lisa wished to stay, having pursued the career of a doctor. Taught her everything I know.”

A small smile flickered on his face as he recounted his time with his late wife, though that smile quickly fell back to a frown.

Your eyes seemed to sharpen slightly, and it was as if he could see you calculating in real time what must have happened. No doubt you were already making educated guesses.

“Unfortunately, many didn’t take kindly to her healing others. Even a few of those she treated reported her to the church.”

Eyes widening slightly, a look of sorrow and horror briefly passed over your face. Had he not been paying attention, it would have been easy to miss.

No doubt you had an idea before, but his words were painting a horrific story, even if he hadn’t even said what had happened specifically just yet.

“For a year, she was fine. We occasionally wrote letters to the other, and she would tell me about her different patients. Sometimes how fulfilling it was to be a doctor, something she had dedicated her life to. Other times… She’d mention how her patients weren’t as kind or cooperative.”

Dracula held back a sneer at the reminder. He really should have noticed the signs so much sooner. How he could have avoided her horrible fate if he had just relied on his gut…

“They would groan or complain that she was treating them. How it wasn’t normal for a woman to do man’s work. They would sometimes curse her out or grow aggressive even. Some accepting her treatment while saying vile things about her. Although… My son at the time usually was around to help if things were too violent.”

Recognition flashed in your eyes. Of course you would recognize his son, to some degree, if you didn’t already know him.

There was doubt in his mind however, that you knew his son. Dracula at least liked to think his and Lisa’s son would have stepped in by now to help you if he had an idea of whatever was happening behind closed doors.

Especially given how his son had been insistent on helping the Belmonts throughout the centuries, even if it wasn’t always by choice since it regarded slaying him.

Details.

Though that did make Dracula briefly wonder just where his son was. Had he gone back to resting? Or had he stirred now that he himself was awake and free?

Dracula was no fool. Alucard had a connection to this castle just like he did, even if it wasn’t on the same scale. His son’s powers being from his own would always have a connection to this place, so long as Dracula remained alive.

Those thoughts were pushed back into his mind. He could dwell on such thoughts and speculations later. If he was still alive and this went well, of course.

Clearing his throat, Dracula continued.

“It was nearly the time I was to return home, when it happened. The church and heads of the nearby town seemed to have had ‘enough’ of my wife ‘playing’ healer, despite the fact she had most likely treated someone they knew, if not themselves.”

Anger and irritation began to simmer a bit brighter in his chest as he thought of how his wife had been treated. How alone and scared she must have been that day.

“They came. They saw the instruments we both used for medicinal purposes. Something I believe you would find rather modern, or even old by today’s standards, but at the time…”

You looked up at him then, realization in your eyes.

“They accused her of witchcraft, didn’t they?”

It was more of a statement, then a question.

Dracula could only give you a small nod.

“She was.”

You had a pained look on your face, clearly upset.

“I’m… not surprised.” you began, a bit hesitant.

“Humans fear things they don’t understand. Or things they can’t control. I imagine being a woman, and a doctor who no doubt had a great success rate at that… Add the more modern medicine practices…” you mumbled, eyes looking down to the side as you thought out loud.

Dracula was at least somewhat pleased you were beginning to see the gravity the situation had been. He had no idea what your knowledge of his wife had been, but this no doubt was an eye opener. That is, if you were choosing to believe him.

Given how you were reacting though… he’d like to hope you were. At least you weren’t screaming obscenities at him and calling him a liar and a heathen like some of your ancestors might have.

“Indeed. It… was brutal.”

Your eyes were now back on him, and he mentally cursed as his voice nearly wavered. He wanted to grow angry once more, and yet, a part of him wanted to simply mourn.

When did he last ever get the chance?

“When I arrived at the small home we had shared, all that was left was cinders. She had been taken captive, and I had been informed… She was to be burned at the stake.”

The air was colder, and your body tensed as a growl slowly crept into his voice.

“By the time I had found where they were keeping her…” he began, his voice low, growing strained, “...They burned her, claiming she was a witch. That this was God’s will.”

He could feel his fangs grow just ever so slightly, as well as his claws. Dracula could practically remember the smell of those ashes of that home.

“It was a lie, of course. All of it. They simply wanted her dead, and used all of that as flimsy excuses to placate the town.” he snarled, leaning forward slightly.

Despite the anger clear on his face, you remained steady. You didn’t flinch away like he thought you might, though your eyes were still wide with horror all the same.

Though… he had the feeling it wasn’t horror from seeing him like this. You weren’t scared of the beast threatening to break free from his flesh.

“By the time I located her, she was already burning. Her soul was already beginning to fade. She was gone.”

Dracula leaned back into the chair, his heart heavy in his chest.

A moment passed, and then another once more. The only thing either of you could hear was the storm that had begun to persist around the castle. How the rain harshly hit the window against the wall, and the wind wailed.

“Not one human stood up. No one looked at what was happening, and said no. All they did was watch.”

Your eyes flickered to the arm of the chair Dracula was sitting in, how it splintered under the pressure of his claws.

Yet… you still didn’t look afraid.

“I then warned them. I gave them a year to apologize and admit they were wrong. A year to pack up and leave. No one did. Not one.”

It was quiet for a moment, and Dracula took a deep breath. In an instant, the air was no longer as heavy as it had been a moment before, though a deep chill still ran throughout the air.

A part of him wanted to feel a bit bad. The moment the air lessened, you slumped again. You were still wounded, and weren’t able to hold yourself together like you no doubt would have if you were healthy. He would have to be mindful how much of a powerful presence he had.

Thrumming his claws against the partially destroyed arm of the chair, Dracula looked over you briefly before continuing.

“In my grief and anger, I declared a year from that day, I would rain hell on those who killed her. I would raze humanity to the ground.”

Your eyes met his.

“And then you did. Or tried to.” you spoke, your voice surprisingly steady.

His eyes never left your own.

“Indeed. I did.”

You swallowed thickly, your hands gripping the sheets under you nervously.

Different ways over how you would respond flashed through his mind again, much like they had earlier these past few days. However, what you said next surprised him.

“I… I don’t blame you, if I am being honest.”

Sure, Dracula thought of the possibility of you saying something along those lines, but he didn’t think you’d actually say it.

Even if you were different from some of your ancestors, he still expected you to go along and claim he was still an evil bastard, that killing those people was still horrible.

Though, that thought isn’t wrong. He knew what he was doing all those centuries ago, and knew what he was doing each time he had been revived and set out to attack. How evil those actions were.

Yet here you were, so quietly admitting you didn’t blame him.

“I’ll be honest… If it were my partner, or someone close to me… I can’t say I wouldn’t have wanted revenge.” You began, head tilting slightly towards him.

“Though uh… I don’t think I would have tried to kill all of humanity, but… Well… I don’t know your situation in full, but I do know grief is a powerful motivator for a lot of things…”

Dracula wasn’t sure what overcame him, but he found himself standing up out of the chair and leaning forward. His arms caged you in as he rested his hands on either side of you on the bed, while he loomed over you.

“You, Little Belmont, would commit murder? To avenge someone close to you, despite what your ancestors have stood for?” he asked, curiosity truly burning in his chest.

You didn’t shrink back, instead met his gaze head on, even as he caged you in. Even as he heard your heart pick up, and your breath hitch, you didn’t back down from his question.

“I’m not saying I would have tried to destroy all of humanity… or even that entire town. But I would hunt down every single person involved. They would know I was coming, one by one.”

Your eyes spoke promise, as if this was something you had thought of plenty of times before. The certainty in them was surprising.

“I’m not my ancestors. I protect humanity, sure, but don’t assume I'm just like them.”

He stood over you for a moment, his face so incredibly close to your own as he stood above you as he took in your words. Your pulse was loud enough to ring in his own ears, and your body was stiff as stone, as if awaiting him to call you a liar.

Then, he laughed.

It was more of a chuckle really, though seeing your bewildered face as he pulled back away from you nearly had made him want to laugh harder.

Leaning back and sitting into the chair once again, Dracula ran a hand against his face and into his hair.

“Forgive me- Forgive me…” He began, his lips twitching into a smile. “I just never thought I’d see the day where a Belmont would admit something such as that. Though…”

Dracula adjusted his posture to a much more relaxed one, most of the tension that had been in the air washing away in an instant.

“You are correct. You are far from what some of your ancestors have been.”

You definitely had Leon’s fire. It was hard to say if Leon would have committed murder against humans if the past had been slightly different… But you had that gleam in your eye that his old friend once had. A fierce look that was different, yet just as vicious as Belmonts before you.

With such a revelation, Dracula could feel the heavy feeling in his heart lessen, but that didn’t mean you both were in the clear, even if you understood each other just a bit better.

Even if you were sympathetic to him, that didn’t change the fact he very much attempted to kill many people. Multiple times, sometimes against his will. He very much has caused harm again and again.

Still, you looked at him with such a complex look on your face. No doubt conflicted yourself with everything you had learned today, especially if you were going to go ahead and plan to fight him anyway.

“So, Little Belmont.”

His voice had you looking back up at him.

“Now that you’ve heard it from my lips, why I detested humanity for so long, what do you plan to do now?” he asked.

Dracula wouldn’t lie. He was genuinely curious what your response would be. Anxiety began to creep up his throat once again, however.

…Maybe you would say something that would once again surprise him.

It was silent for a few moments, as you looked deep in thought, before looking back up at him.

“Well… Do you intend to keep trying to kill every human? Seems kinda… counter productive to do so now. Especially when things have changed so much in the centuries that have passed.”

Though you gave a slight wince.

“Granted, I don’t expect you to like anyone. But at this point, what do you gain? Are you… Not tired of fighting and dying and being revived?”

Once again, he could sense a genuine curiosity in your questions.

What did he gain, at this point?

Killing every human would be suicide for vampires everywhere. It would do more than just destroy vampires, but ecosystems as well.

As much as Vlad hated to admit it, humans were a necessary factor when it came to the earth.

But why should he care?

The moment that thought crossed his mind, his eyes landed back on you. How you fidgeted a bit on the bed, though seemed far less anxious than before. Your instincts didn’t seem as on edge as they had been when he first initiated this conversation.

Granted, he hadn’t been as… enthusiastic about world domination in centuries, if he were being honest with himself. His last run in with his son definitely left a mark, how his son grimly told him what Lisa’s last words had been.

But even though he often wished to stay dead, many would find ways to bring him back, and it was as if a cord was attached to his back, tugging him like a string. A force urging him to kill once again.

He’d barely be awake even a few hours, before he was set to be killed again.

Dracula would admit, he was definitely tired.

This wasn’t exactly what he expected his life to become after he chose to forsake his own humanity to spite God. Though he supposes that’s what he gets for doing so in the first place.

Who knew immortality would be full of boredom, tragedy, and bone deep tiredness?

Still, without it, he wouldn’t have experienced the brief bouts of love and joy that he wouldn’t trade for the world.

His eyes stayed on you as those thoughts swirled in his mind.

Despite everything that has happened to him, he found it hard to regret meeting you, at least so far.

For a moment, his eyes gazed to the side, different thoughts conflicting in his mind, but…

He didn’t wish to fight you, either.

Fingers thrumming against the arm of the chair, Dracula leaned his face against his hand.

“I suppose that is a fair point. Nearly every human that has personally spite me is dead. It gets tiring being woken up, and then killed for attempting vengeance when those who personally wronged me are gone.”

Your lips twitched upwards slightly at his ‘admission’, before giving him a look.

“But tell me, Little Belmont…”

He leaned in close again from his spot in the chair, looking at you almost amused.

“What should I do instead, hm?”

You blinked, and your face briefly flushed from the proximity.

“Um… Well, what did you do before declaring humans as your enemy? Uh, I’m no historian, but didn’t you just kinda do your own thing, only killing people that came to bother you or hurt you? Like how the church likes to refer to you as Vlad the Impaler to hide that you are a real vampire that exists?”

Dracula stared at you for a moment.

“They what.”

Hands flew up, and you shook them a bit in front of you as Dracula leaned back.

“Uh- don’t worry, I can tell you that later, but in all seriousness-”

Arching a brow, Dracula briefly wondered just what the church and human historians have been saying about him all these centuries if they were attempting to hide his existence. Despite being freed for a few days, he still had much to catch up on.

Regardless, he gave what you said some thought.

“That is true. I… did mostly keep to myself. I had no desire to join or hide amongst humans. Though I had little pity for those who sought me out to destroy me and met a… bloody end.”

At his words you blinked, before nodding to yourself as if you agreed. However, your eyes widened ever so slightly, and you were looking at him with that familiar spark in your eye he had seen come and go.

“Um… Why not do that again? Actually, how about a compromise?”

Now he was interested. What kind of compromise would a Belmont come up with? You were different from many of the others, sure, but he couldn’t help but be curious.

“Well…” You began, clearing your throat, “Unless any innocent humans are harmed, I have no desire to or need to hunt you, or anyone in the castle, really. What would be the point? I know from personal experience not everyone of the paranormal nature are ‘evil’, after all.”

Your hands were fidgeting in your lap, and you were having a hard time sitting still.

“Uh… that is to say I won’t hunt anyone that hurts any innocent folk. But at that point, that was their own choice, right? Unless you ordered it, I can deal with them personally. No need to go to war if you aren’t attacking anyone. And…”

It was clear you were growing more and more flustered as you tried to explain yourself and your reasoning. It wasn’t for the fact he had to take this seriously, he would have found it cute.

“And I- um- I can try to keep people away? I own a part of the property nearby and can have the road closed off. Of course, I can’t stop trespassers if I am not here, but I have plenty of traps set around the property… close to my cabin, really. I can try and keep people away…”

You were mumbling more in thought now as you tried to come up with ideas.

“...And I know a few blood banks for vampires, and a few other paranormal people who require blood to live. I know a witch that owns one, too. I’m sure she’d be thrilled to bits to help.”

All were interesting ideas, if you felt you both could really pull it off. However, he still had one question.

While you were rambling, he gently reached forward, clawed fingers tenderly grabbing your chin to have you look at him. You stopped talking and froze, eyes wide.

“All very good ideas, Little Belmont, but please answer me this,” He began, watching as your eyes comically flickered between his hand and face, “What about your family legacy? It was founded on the very idea of killing me.”

You swallowed thickly as he spoke, eyes trained on him.

“You asked why it mattered. Are you really willing to throw away the one thing your clan was founded for? For peace? For both humans and monsters? Are you willing to toss aside the very reason your ancestors became hunters in the first place?”

You stared at him in silence for a moment, swallowing thickly once more. After a few moments, you moved your head out of his grip, a sudden annoyed look in your eyes.

“I said it once, and I’ll say it again. I’m not my ancestors.” you began, a sharp look on your face.

“I didn’t ask to be born a hunter. To be born a Belmont. I’ll protect humanity, sure, but why do I have to limit myself and people’s lives based on what my ancestors decided what- 500 years ago? Why should every rule my ancestors made define my life in its entirety?”

It was as if your nerves had dissipated, and you crossed your arms in annoyance. Dracula wondered if this also was something you have thought about for years.

It made sense, he supposed. If your personal life was as much of a mess as he suspected, then what did you have to show for being a Belmont besides pain and strife?

His lips twitched upwards slightly into a small grin. You just keep finding ways to surprise him.

“Fair enough. It’s admirable to forge your own path rather than be held down by your ancestors.”

Dracula then tilted his head, that smile never quite leaving his face.

“So, Little Belmont. Let’s say I do agree to your ideas. I won’t destroy humanity, and you won’t hunt myself, and the residents of my castle. You’ll help keep humans away, and help anyone here who needs a meal. What will you do then?”

The annoyed look on your face fell, and you thought for a moment.

“Um… I could show you a bunch of modern stuff? No offense, I know you are a genius and all, but uh… I doubt you know all the ways civilization has changed since you were last around for more than a day.” you said with a wince, though you perked up almost instantly.

“Oh! I could get you a cell phone! Oh, I bet you would like some of the online libraries as well-”

He would admit, he had no idea what a cellphone was, but he was intrigued by the idea of a library.

But he was more interested in the very idea of you not only not slaying him, but you coming back to visit.

Yes, the idea of you wanting to come back was very pleasing to him, indeed.

It was at the cost of playing nice, but was that such a hard thing to achieve?

If it had been several decades ago, he doubted he would have been so… willing. He has had plenty of time to cool off, being imprisoned in stone. That urge to kill never truly left…

But that urge to devour humanity whole… that was dwindling. He’d argue that it had been dwindling for a while now.

He may be King of the Night, but this song and dance was growing tiresome.

That, and your ideas had merit. He could work with them, within reason.

“Alright Little Belmont.” he began, and you paused in the middle of your muttering.

“I’ll make a deal with you.”

You sat up straight again, eyes at attention, and he could practically hear your heart pick up in anticipation.

“For starters, I won’t attack humanity, not as a whole. However, I won’t show mercy to anyone who personally slights me. That, and any human foolhardy enough to come to my castle in an attempt to destroy me shall be dealt with accordingly.”

After you gave him a brisk nod, he continued.

“You, on the other hand, shall not lay a hand on anyone in this castle, unless they attack first. Am I clear?” He spoke, his voice becoming firm. You tilted your head, and he decided to elaborate before you agreed.

“Everyone in my castle is under my protection. They are here either as a direct connection to me as my servants, are here for sanctuary, or are here for political endeavors. They are not to be harmed unless they attack you first, or attack humans on their own accord.”

He could only imagine the shit show that would follow if you killed one of the political guests for another coven. A part of him actually considered letting you loose on them, now that he thought about it, especially with those nasty guests that like to undermine him for dying to Belmonts…

That could be a thought for another day.

A look of understanding crossed your face, and you gave him another nod.

“That’s reasonable.”

It was more or less your idea, after all, but he was glad you were willing to agree to what he added on to it.

“Next, you said you own the property nearby, and could help keep other pesky humans away. I’ll hold you to that, because I may not attempt to kill humans for existing, but I do not wish to be bothered.”

Though he’d admit, he wondered if you would be willing to show him the land you own. Vlad was curious how a little cabin you owned.

What would it look like? Did you keep it clean? Messy? Was it large? Small?

Questions he could ask later, should he see you again and you agree to these terms.

You blinked, before nodding at him slowly.

“I mean… I’ll try and do what I can. Of course, If the government or church discovers you, they may try to override me, or send someone to attack from a different position. I can’t stop that, but… I will do what I can. If I can’t, and you haven’t done anything besides exist…”

Your eyes flickered to a nearby mirror, before looking back at him.

“Well, like you said, they’ll be dealt with. I can try to persuade but… well at that point, if they won’t hear me out… I can’t stop anything you do to someone trespassing.”

That was a fair compromise, he supposed. He had little idea how the human government worked in this day and age, let alone how entangled hunters were with them. Should anyone be foolish enough to challenge him, then he’ll make sure to deal with it.

But if you were at least willing to help him out, even a little, in regards to keeping humans away. Even if you most likely weren’t a fan of the idea of him exterminating any human that foolishly sauntered into his domain.

“Agreed. Now, another thing…”

Dracula tilted his head as he looked at you.

“I’d like to see you again after this, Little Belmont.”

Your eyes widened a degree, and your face grew slightly flushed from surprise.

“What-”

“What I mean is, you intrigue me. You fascinate me in ways I had long since forgotten, and I’d like to hope this simple compromise will simply be the beginning of a… commendable relationship.”

He felt his lips curl upward again at the look on your face. Clearly you weren’t expecting him to be so forward in asking to see you once more.

“Are… Are you sure? I uh, no offense, didn’t think you’d want a Belmont around after I leave… Or your castle’s inhabitants, since I know how some of them feel with me recovering here…”

Oh, how you had no idea how much he wanted to see you again. Vlad knew his time with you now was short, and his old heart was beginning to pound in his chest at the possibility of this little meeting actually working out.

He had to see you again. One way or another.

“I am sure. You will soon find that I don’t say things I don’t mean without reason, especially in company I like.”

He wished he had a camera, it was clear you weren’t quite used to subtle compliments. Or perhaps there was more to it?

Dracula could think more on that later.

Gently, he held out a hand to shake.

“What do you say, Little Belmont? Are these terms agreeable?”

Eyes flickering between him and his hand, you held out a hand, before hesitating.

“Okay… On one condition.” Dracula raised an eyebrow, but was curious nonetheless.

“Name it.”

After a reluctant pause, you spoke up.

“It can’t be this easy.” You began, though quickly continued when you saw his face fall.

“When I say that, I’m not referring to you. I mean our circumstances. I worry something might come up that would be… disruptive to this ‘peace’. I propose that we at least try to talk about something before acting rashly if one of us feels slighted, or if the other may have broken the agreement without realizing it.”

Dracula had to give you credit, even while injured and under what must be an absurd amount of stress, you were managing to think ahead. Something a hunter no doubt had to be good at while on a hunt, so why wouldn’t it show in other areas as well?

Plus… It pleased him you were still being careful, critically aware of your situation instead of blindingly agreeing. You were no fool.

No doubt your mind was whirring with possibilities, ways he, or someone in his castle could try and trap you by these agreements. Those thoughts weren’t unfounded, at least involving his subjects.

He had no doubts there would be chaos when you started coming around for visits.

Even if he himself wouldn’t dare try and trap you by your own rules to invoke a battle, it still impressed him that you were cautious. There were too many conniving fools when it came to such politics, even now as he settled back in as King.

Vlad smiled.

“Very well, that is agreeable. Anything else?”

You were still hesitant, but after a moment, you reached forward, your smaller hand meeting his own.

“No, that will be all for now.”

With your warm hand clasped with his own, Dracula felt his body finally relax, and his gaze on you softened.

For now, things might finally start going his way.

Even if that meant his desires had morphed into something different than pure destruction. All he wanted was to learn more of you.

[bellaxgiornata]

All These Years [Part 15: "What If...?"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of installments for All These Years here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 4k

a/n: Some hope finally shows up in this installment! There's still a lingering bit of angst though, but I feel like overall this one is hopeful and a little bit frustrating. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @margoo0 @1988-fiend @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @justalittlebitbored @am-3-thyst @buckybarnes-1917 @thora-jane @lionalsowrites @cloudroomblog @prince-tassel @danzer8705 @yourlocalbentspine @harperdoodle @hollandorks @mattmurdocksstarlight @yeonalie

Picking up a fry from your plate, you took a bite as your eyes wandered around the outdoor dining space. The restaurant you and your co-worker Alicia had met up at for lunch today was as busy as it usually was on a Saturday afternoon. The pair of you had gotten incredibly lucky to even snag a table outside to eat at this time. Despite the bright sunshine of the early November day, the light breeze and the overhead canopy made the restaurant’s patio an absolutely perfect spot this afternoon. Even with the excess noise of the various conversations going on all at once among the tables around you, you felt content. Something you’d noticed you’d felt ever since moving here, even if it often felt like something was missing from LA.

Shortly after you had moved to Los Angeles, you’d quickly connected with Alicia in your office. She had grown up in and around LA and had immediately taken it upon herself to acquaint you with all the best coffee shops, restaurants, and beach spots. She had even taken you out to the best clubs and bars for many a drunken night. The pair of you had quickly become fast friends which had certainly made your transition across the country vastly easier. 

From across the table, you saw Alicia lift her glass of iced tea, drawing it to her lips as she eyed you. You knew what was coming next, because she always delved into the real conversation once you’d both gotten into your food. Raising a brow at her, you expectantly waited for the questions to come.

“So how was last night?” she asked, taking a sip from her glass. “Was this one good? Bad? Mind blowing?”

You couldn’t fight back the laugh, shaking your head as you popped the rest of the fry into your mouth and chewed. Last night you’d had a date–one of many since you’d moved to Los Angeles a little over four months ago. The first few you’d gone on hadn’t amounted to much, ending early and being entirely uneventful. Initially all you found yourself thinking about was Matt’s face and how heartbroken he’d looked when you’d left him back at your apartment that day all those months ago. But as the weeks gradually wore on since you’d been here, you’d repeatedly told yourself that you came here to try to live your life. Slowly you eventually found yourself becoming more open to dating. Because you weren’t about to turn around and run back to New York solely because you missed Matt. 

Which you did. That hollow ache in your chest returned with a vengeance every time you thought about him. You missed Matt. Missed him even more because you’d only gotten one single message from him shortly after you arrived here. It had been a text, too. Something Matt never generally sent you because you knew he hated the voice to text application on his phone. All it said was ‘I hope you find your happiness.’ You hadn’t even responded back because every time you re-read his message you broke down in tears. 

You hadn’t spoken to Matt in months because of it. You’d become too afraid to reach out to him the more time passed on, too. And whether it was because it hurt him too much, or he thought you didn’t want to speak to him, or he was trying to give you space, or he wanted nothing to do with you now, you never heard from him, either. Though you did speak to Karen and Foggy often. Karen had started her first semester at Columbia and was working on her law degree with the help of Matt and Foggy. She was also still trying to juggle working in the office with them when she could throughout the week. And Foggy apparently had been getting more serious with Marci while also keeping you updated about how well Nelson and Murdock had been doing. 

But neither of them ever told you much about Matt, and you were always too afraid to ask.

So you’d found yourself going on dates. Sleeping around a bit more than you ever had before. You figured your old roommate at Columbia would’ve been proud of you with how much sex you’d been having for once in your life. You sure knew Alicia enjoyed hearing the stories every Saturday afternoon over lunch. 

“He was good,” you said, answering Alicia’s question as you picked up another fry. “I certainly wouldn’t say mind blowing, though. I don’t think I’ve come across mind blowing sex yet.”

“Well that’s a damn shame,” she replied, setting her glass back onto the table. “So if you had to pick between LA men and New York men, which do you prefer?”

Your eyebrows shot up onto your forehead at her question. Across the table, Alicia sent you a mischievous grin before taking a bite out of her panini.

“That’s sort of hard to answer,” you told her, biting off another piece of fry. “I mean, what am I judging this by? The amount of men that want to have sex with me? How attractive I find them? Their general attitudes towards relationships?”

“All of it,” she said as she swallowed her bite of food. “I want an overall answer and a breakdown for each category.”

You laughed at her, shaking your head. “What is this? One of Scott’s impromptu meetings?” you teased back. “At least he gives me smoothies made out of lawn clippings before he shakes me down for those.”

Alicia snorted in response, a hand coming up to cover her mouth as she tried not to spit out her food while she laughed. It was true though, your boss here was a big fan of impromptu meetings. And also green smoothies.

“Okay, if I had to pick an overall winner solely based on those categories, I’d say Los Angeles men have New York men beat,” you answered. “But only because they take the win in both sex and physical appearance–which I’m thinking is because most of them spend their time shirtless at the beach. And apparently all the men out here want to do is just have sex. But that means most men here aren’t too interested in dating. Or at least, the guys I keep meeting aren’t. They just want a quick hookup. Or a no-strings attached casual thing with zero commitment.”

“Well you seem to be enjoying those,” Alicia pointed out. “With the amount of flings I’ve heard you having.”

You shrugged a shoulder, your focus dropping down to your plate of half-eaten food. Your stomach knotted a little as Matt’s face came to your mind. You missed that soft, warm smile he used to shoot you when you entered a room. You even missed the shit-eating grin he always made as he threw out one of his sarcastic jokes. 

“What?” she asked, leaning forward towards you and catching your eye again. “You mean to tell me the plethora of sex isn’t what you want?”

You shrugged again. “No, not really,” you heard yourself admitting. “I wish the men I met were more interested in second dates that weren’t just an excuse for more sex. I feel like I haven’t actually gotten to know anyone on a date since I’ve been here. It’s always just empty flirtatious banter and sex. There’s no… depth .”

“Mmm,” Alicia hummed with a nod, her focus returning to her food. “Now you know why I’m still single.”

You sighed lightly, picking up a fry and toying with it. Last night had been fun, but honestly you were tired of repeatedly going on first dates that didn’t go anywhere. And you were starting to get tired of having sex and then one of you inevitably needing to get dressed and disappear immediately afterwards. It truthfully wasn’t what you wanted. You wanted something more .

“All the LA men can’t compare to the one you left back in New York, though, can they?” 

Your attention shifted back to Alicia as her question hung heavy in the air. She was staring at you with that knowing look on her face as she sat back in her chair.

“I didn’t leave him, exactly,” you corrected her. “He wasn’t–wasn’t exactly mine in the first place to leave.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Not the point,” she said. “You miss him. All the sleeping around and constant dates–it was either to forget him or to try to find someone else. But you can’t, can you? I see it on your face every time we talk about your love life.”

“I mean I was trying to find someone out here,” you admitted. “I was open to it. But it just doesn’t seem like the men I meet are open to anything real .”

“Or,” Alicia said, pointing a finger at you, “you’re not really willing to try to find someone else because you’re still in love with Mr. NYC Lawyer.”

You shook your head quickly. “I don’t think that’s–”

“Admit it,” Alicia said, cutting you off. “You’re in love with him still.”

“Well I mean it’s–it’s not like you just fall out of love with someone,” you told her. “Especially when it’s been years that you’ve had feelings for the person.”

“You know what I don’t get?” she asked you, picking her iced tea back up. “Why you both don’t try long distance dating. I mean, it’s not convenient, but like…if there’s something there, why aren’t either of you trying?”

“Because he was with someone before I left,” you reminded her. “He had been considering proposing to her.”

“That was months ago now,” she pointed out. “Why are you holding back?”

“I–I haven’t heard from him,” you admitted.

Alicia pointed a finger at your cell phone sitting on the table beside your water. Your eyes guiltily dropped down towards it.

“You’ve got a phone and perfectly functioning fingers,” she said. “You’re just as capable of reaching out as he is. You’re just scared.”

Eyes lingering on the phone beside you, you felt nerves suddenly shaking loose in your gut. Because she was right. You were scared to reach out to Matt. 

“Maybe I am,” you whispered.

Because what if he had moved on? What if he’d gotten back with Erica and things had gotten serious? Or he’d met someone new and he’d fallen in love with them? Or if he had somehow grown pissed that you’d left him and now he wanted nothing to do with you?

Or what if he still wanted you as much as you wanted him? What then?

A knock on his office door caused Matt to stop his typing, his head swiveling in the direction of the noise. He knew it was Karen and not Foggy standing there wanting to speak with him, he could tell from the scent of her shampoo and light perfume that was still noticeable past the smell of food lingering on her–she must’ve picked lunch up for the office. He noticed her heart was beating a little nervously in her chest though, which had Matt’s eyes narrowing curiously behind his glasses.

“Hey, I grabbed lunch from that deli nearby,” she said, her tone a little timid. “And I uh, was hoping to talk to you and Fog about something. If that’s alright?”

“Sure,” Matt said, leaning back in his chair and focusing on her. “What’s going on, Karen?”

“Well I–I was hoping to talk to you both,” she repeated nervously. “Fog’s over at my desk and I can’t actually stay for lunch because I have that exam today.”

“Right, yeah,” Matt said, adjusting his tie. “I forgot you had that today.”

“Yeah, I figured you and Foggy have had a busy week,” she continued. “That’s why I grabbed you guys lunch. I had a feeling you both would work right through it if I didn’t and you guys need to take better care of yourselves during the day. You’re both running yourselves ragged.”

Matt rose from his chair, making his way around his desk. He heard the way Karen turned and began making her way back towards her own desk in the main part of the office. Matt followed out of the room behind her.

“Well you certainly need to take care of yourself, too,” he pointed out. “You’ve been doing a lot for us around here while still focusing on your classes.”

“Yeah,” Foggy cut in, “you really do need to take a few minutes to yourself.”

Matt heard Karen’s hands fidgeting together as she expelled a light laugh. He could hear the nervous edge to it though, which only further had Matt wondering what was going on with her.

“It’s funny you should say that, actually,” Karen began. “Because as you both know, I’ve been really busy between this first semester at Columbia and keeping things running as smoothly as possible here at the firm.”

“And you’ve been doing amazing at both,” Matt assured her immediately.

“You’re a literal saint and we don’t deserve you,” Foggy added.

Matt could feel the heat rising in Karen’s cheeks as she blushed. The nervous edge didn’t leave her though as she stopped beside her desk. To Matt it sounded like her pulse was quickly increasing again.

“Well, here’s the thing,” Karen said carefully. “I’m coming up on winter break and I had this crazy idea and I was hoping you guys would be okay with it.”

“Shoot,” Foggy replied instantly.

Matt heard Karen say your name, aware that she’d sent him an apologetic look as she did. Foggy and Karen didn’t often talk about you around him since you’d left. They always told him that he tended to get quiet and moody whenever they did. And hearing it now, uttered when he wasn’t expecting it, had his heart clenching in his chest.

“We uh, we’ve been talking about me coming out to visit her for a few weeks now,” Karen continued slowly, her focus shifting back and forth between himself and Foggy as she spoke. “I know we all have–have missed her, but I also know you guys are too busy here to just disappear on a trip to LA. But I was hoping that…you both wouldn’t mind if I took a few days? To go see her? Get away from the cold weather here for a bit and take a break from all the stress these past few months have brought me?”

“How long are you thinking?” Foggy asked.

“Like…four or five days?” Karen nervously answered. “Basically a week?”

Matt could hear the way Foggy’s attention shifted to him across the room, his eyebrows raising. But he also could hear the way his own heart was rapidly pounding in his chest. He tried hard not to think about you too much, though admittedly he failed often at that. You were almost a near constant thought on his mind unless he was buried in work or busy as the Devil late at night. 

He missed you. Every second of every day it felt like. He’d had absolutely no interest in trying to date since you’d left, always ridiculously hoping today would be the day you decided to come back to Hell’s Kitchen. But he knew you weren’t going to come back. From what he’d gathered from Karen and Foggy, you were enjoying the LA weather and your new job. You were doing good. And he was happy that you were, even if there was a sharp pain that physically shot through his chest whenever he thought about you. 

He hadn’t heard from you since you moved, either. Matt hadn’t known what to make of that. He’d sent you a text, not wanting to overstep his boundaries by calling you, but also not wanting to just let you go from his life. But you’d never reached out to him after that. Not in the five months since you’d been gone. You spoke to Karen and Foggy every day, though. He knew there was a group chat that you three were always texting in, but Matt wasn’t a part of it. He did his best to try and not let it bother him, but it did. Because he still wanted to be someone in your life, but he felt like he’d finally told you that he loved you only just to lose you completely. 

“What do you think, Matt?” Foggy asked, drawing him back to the moment. “I think we can manage a week without her, don’t you?”

Matt cleared his throat, thankful the glasses on his face were hiding the tears building in his eyes. He nodded quickly, his hands landing on his hips.

“Yeah, I think so,” he said, his voice off even to his own ears. “When were you thinking of going, though?”

“Next week?” Karen asked hopefully. 

“Oh,” Matt whispered.

“We should still be fine,” Foggy said quickly. “I don’t think this case will go on past this week, we’re nearing the end of it. So yeah, I say go have fun in LA. Say hi to our girl for us. Maybe even get her to do a video chat sometime because I haven’t seen her in forever and I miss her.”

Matt stood there, his fingers digging into his own hips uncomfortably. He missed the sound of your voice. Missed the scent of you. Missed the feel of you in his arms even if he could only ever seem to recall you crying in them lately.

“Yeah, we’ll–we’ll be fine,” Matt muttered, his mind still on thoughts of you.

“Okay, great!” Karen said, her tone bright as the nervous edge dissipated. “I have to run to my exam, but once I finish that I’m going to call her and get things figured out. Book a flight and all of that.”

“You deserve the time to relax!” Foggy told her. “You’ve been working your ass off!”

Matt was barely present as he wished Karen good luck and thanked her for lunch before she was leaving the office in an excited buzz. He longingly wished it was him getting to go see you in LA. He wished that you’d actually want him to come visit. He doubted you would.

The second Karen had left, Foggy hadn’t wasted a moment before going through the paper bag of food on her desk, digging out what Matt could easily tell was a meatball sub along with Matt’s usual turkey and avocado sandwich. Admittedly he didn’t have much of an appetite though, not after Karen had brought you up. 

“You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?” Foggy asked, cutting through the silence that had fallen in Karen’s absence. “You’ve got that sad puppy look on your face.”

Matt quickly cleared his throat again, shaking his head as he reached out, accepting the sandwich Foggy had offered to him. 

“I do not have a sad puppy look,” he muttered.

“You do, but that’s not the point here,” Foggy countered. “Karen brought her up and now you’re thinking about her. It’s all over your face, Matt. You miss her.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Matt replied, turning and making his way back to his office.

“Yes it does!” Foggy snapped.

  Matt stopped mid-step at Foggy’s unexpected outburst. His hand tightened around the sandwich, his teeth grinding together. He could feel the burn of tears in his eyes but he fought them down. He didn’t want to have this conversation again with Foggy. He was tired of it.

“It doesn’t matter,” he repeated firmly. “We’ve been over this countless times, Fog. She made her choice. She knows how I feel and she’s never reached out to me. And she’s–she’s happy where she is now. So I’m happy for her. End of story.”

“ Call . Her ,” Foggy forcefully ordered.

Something snapped inside of Matt as he spun on his heel, a mixture of hurt and anger coursing through him. He focused on his best friend, his shoulders squared as the words flew from his lips.

“And tell her what , Fog?” Matt growled, voice low. “That I miss her? That I want her to come back to Hell’s Kitchen and be with me? That I fall asleep every night wishing she was there beside me instead of falling asleep in an empty bed night after night?” He took a step closer to Foggy, feeling the fight quickly falling out of his friend with the more he said. “Am I supposed to beg her, Fog? Guilt her? Pester her until she gives up what she wants? Is that what you want me to do?”

“No,” Foggy weakly replied, shaking his head. “No, Matt it’s not. But–”

Matt held up a hand, cutting his friend clean off. “No, Fog. She’s happy. She’s told you and Karen as much. And I–I love her,” he continued, the words coming out sounding as broken as Matt felt inside. “Which means I won’t ruin this for her. I’m not going to ask anything of her. She knows how I feel.”

“But what if she misses you, too?” Foggy questioned him earnestly. “What if she still loves you, Matt? What if she’s been in LA wondering why you haven’t reached out to her?”

“I reached out to her,” Matt countered. 

“You sent her a text, Matt,” Foggy pointed out flatly. “ One text. You’ve never even tried to call her.”

“She’s never tried to call me,” Matt shot back. “She never even responded to my text, Fog. I told her I have loved her for years and she left me. She left . I think she made it quite clear what she wants.”

Matt heard Foggy drop his sandwich onto Karen’s desk, his heavy footfalls hurriedly making their way over to him. He tracked Foggy’s movements with his head, surprise jolting through him when Foggy grabbed onto the lapels of his suit coat with both hands firmly.

“I want you to listen to me loud and clear, man, because I’m tired of saying this to you,” Foggy began. “She’s been in love you with you for years , Matt. That does not go away over a few weeks or months! Call her !”

Matt’s lips pressed into a thin line as he tried to control his emotions. His throat felt like it was closing up on him; the subject of you always had this effect on him, even before he'd known you’d felt the same way.

“What if–” he began, stopping when he struggled to get the words to come out. “What if she’s moved on with someone else, Fog? What if she doesn't want me? What if she doesn’t want to talk to me?”

Foggy lightly shook Matt by the lapels of his suit coat as if he was trying to shake some sense into him. Matt frowned at the gesture immediately, but that didn't deter Foggy’s enthusiasm.

“But what if she hasn’t moved on to someone else?” Foggy countered. “What if she does want to talk to you, Matt? What if she’s still in love with you?”

“But I’m never going to move to LA,” Matt reminded his friend. “And she’s happy there. How would anything even work between us? Because I will not ask her to choose me, Fog. You know I won’t.”

“Maybe she would choose you because she wants to, buddy,” Foggy told him gently. “Just–just give it some thought, okay? Don’t wait another almost seven years to actually try with her. Because you’ll never know what could’ve been if all you do is keep playing this game of what if’s, Matt.”

Foggy’s words settled in Matt’s mind, the weight of them too heavy to ignore. Matt still felt uncertain though, because surely if you wanted him in your life you’d have tried to keep him there, right? But you hadn’t tried at all. So what did that mean?

Nodding solemnly back at Foggy, Matt said, “I’ll think about it. But I don’t want to burst into her life and ruin what she already has going on. If she’s been trying to move past this–past me –it’s better if I leave her alone and let her.”

Turning back around, Matt quietly ducked his head and made his way back to his office. A myriad of what if’s were in fact running through his mind as he closed the door behind himself. But as he made his way over to his chair behind his desk, settling into it, there was one question that kept repeating louder than the others.

What if he was misreading you again?

[END NOTES]

Yes! More end notes! Those of you who follow me on AO3 know how much I love them 😅

We get BOTH point of views in this installment! It's been about four/five months now since Reader has moved to LA as we see here and she is certainly out trying to live her best life, but as probably expected, she hasn't forgotten about Matt entirely. While she's been out having fun and quite a few one-night stands, she's quickly realizing she wants something serious. The pointless sex isn't cutting it for her. And Matt is apparently in Hell's Kitchen pining over Reader while she's gone, too. But...neither of them are talking to each other. And both are seemingly a bit too stubborn or scared to reach out. Even if their friends are trying to knock some sense into them. But Karen is soon on her way to visit Reader in LA, so maybe her visit and a certain video chat will help get these two talking again?

The next installment for this series is just over half written already, but I still have no title for it yet. I'm not sure how soon I'll post it, but we are very much nearing the comfort and happy parts of this series! And smut. I did promise eventual smut for this one.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Hey there!! First things first, I love your writing so much 😭😭😭 I’m obsessed with your blog

I have a request for the seven brothers from obey me!

I was wondering how each of them would react to their s/o who got in some kind of trouble and comes home covered in blood, in shock, not being able to speak at first?

If you can write it I’d be really grateful 💖

Obey me Brothers + Bloodspattered MC

Lucifer

He had been waiting up for them when he finally heard the door open.

They were supposed to be home an hour ago. Lucifer appreciated that time could get away from a person, especially a human, but it was incredibly rude for them not to call or text that they were going to be late. So, he waited up for them. One to make sure they were ok, and two to give them a talking to.

Closing his book, he stood up from his large leather chair and stepped into the foyer. “I certainly hope your watch is broken. Otherwise, I have no idea why you would be so….” He trailed off as he came around the corner, saw [Y/N], and felt all the blood run from his face as he saw them covered in it.

“[Y/N]! What happened?!”

He rushed to their side. Trying to do a preliminary assessment as they muttered and stumbled over some words. Clearly still to jarred to speak.

Lucifer sighed as he couldn’t see any physical injuries on them. Thankfully, in a way, the blood wasn’t theirs. “There, there. Let’s get you cleaned up first then we’ll talk. I’ve told you. Going out into the Devildom alone was dangerous.”

He ushered them up the stairs and to the bathroom. He hated to say he told them so, but he did. Why did no one ever listen to him?

Mammon

Mammon was pissed. He hated being stood up. Not only did it leave him with feelings of inadequacy and neglect he was all too familiar with, but he wasted a perfectly good outfit.

[Y/N] was supposed to meet him at the Hellfire club for the launch of his new campaign for Belle Nuit Couture. One of the newest and hottest fashion lines in the Devildom, and he was the star. This was a party for him and he had invited [Y/N] as his date and they stood him up!

He couldn’t enjoy the party at all after that and, after several glasses of champagne and free tote bags, Mammon left to go home and give [Y/N] a piece of his mind.

The car dropped him off at the gate and he walked up. The front steps coming into view as he got closer, and seeing [Y/N] sitting on them.

“Hey! Ya got some nerve standing me up!” He called as he came closer. “I got you on the guest list for the most exclusive party in probably the world, and ya don’t even show up! Man. You’re really selfish if you think—” His rant stopped mid sentence as [Y/N] turned their head up to look at him. Face covered in blood. Along with the rest of them, he realized.

“I don’t have my key.”

Mammon dropped the gift bags and raced over to [Y/N]’s side. “What the hell happened!? Who did this to you?!”

“I don’t….I don’t….”

“Why didn’t you call me?!”

“They took my phone.”

“They?! Who’s they?!” He could feel his blood boiling. His shoulder blades tense and itching as his wings tried to come out, along with the rest of his demon form. Who would hurt his [Y/N]?! “I’m calling the car back.”

“Wh….Why….”

“To get you to a hospital!” Mammon shouted. Already on the phone and telling the car to turn around. “Here. Lean on me. No wait, I’ll carry you.”

“Your shirt….”

“Who cares about that?!” He was already picking [Y/N] up bridal style. The blood sticky and messy as it pressed against his expensive new BNC attire. No one else in the world had this line yet, and he’d already ruined it. But [Y/N] was more important.

Levi

Most people knew to leave Levi alone when he was on a new game grind.

He expected no less than 72 uninterrupted hours of gaming when the cellophane seal came off the packaging, followed by minimal interruptions for the next 7-10 business days.

It was why, when he first heard the knock, that he thought that he had imagined it. This was a horror game after all. Creepy noises were expected to come up now and then. But, he quickly realized, door knocks did not come up in forest sequences of a game, so he went to go check the door.

“Oh, hey [Y/N]. Wow! Is this a new cosplay for the game?! What dedication! I didn’t even know that there were characters like this in the game. You must have gone real otaku and checked the forums. Good for you! This blood looks so real too. What did you use? This doesn’t look like syrup or a synthetic mix or….”

Levi suddenly realized that the reason the blood looked so real was because it was real. His beautiful [Y/N]-hime-sama, was covered in blood, and just staring at him with these big, sunken doe eyes. He felt all of his blood drain from his face. His stomach felt sick. He had a very low threshold for non-animated blood, and he was starting to feel woozy.

“Oh…oh no…I must have triggered another real world game experience. That’s it.” He tried to rationalize. “Y-Yeah. That’s it. This is just like the otome game we got stuck in before. D-Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out. Let’s get you cleaned up first and then we’ll beat the game together [Y/N]. Just like always.”

Yes. Right. This was just a game. This was just a game. This wasn’t really real. It was all a game.

Satan

When reading a good book, Satan lost all track of time. Many a night he had been alerted to the time by the sun coming up, or his alarm for school, breaking through his intense focus, only to realize he had been up all night. He wasn’t sure what time it was when he heard the knock, but he was pretty sure it was late. It just felt that way.

Saving his place in his book, Satan got up from his bed to answer the door and was shocked to find [Y/N] there. Covered in blood.

“Good gods [Y/N]! What happened?!”

“It…It was….They….” They could barely speak, their hands shaking as well, and Satan wanted to feel sympathy for them. However, all he could feel was anger swelling up in his chest.

He heard the word ‘they’ and his mind quickly deduced that someone or something had done this to [Y/N]. A being out that had the suicidal gall to touch them. Hurt someone precious to him.

He could already feel the violent storm of his rage building within him, ready to smite any and all who played part in this. But then, just as quickly, he took a deep breath and tampered it down. [Y/N] and their safety was more important right now. Nothing else but that mattered right now.

“Come inside. I’ll get you some towels. We’ll get you cleaned up and we can talk about it. If you want.”

Hopefully [Y/N] had names, because he really didn’t want to go student to student hunting down whoever knew anything. Not that he wasn’t willing to.

Asmo

Asmo was pretty irritated.

[Y/N] was supposed to come home straight after the committee meeting and they were supposed to have a cute night in together. Movies, popcorn, facials, pedicures, maybe some light petting under the covers; though that last one was all Asmo’s idea. But they never showed up!

He got that sometimes these committee meetings for events could take a while. He had certainly been involved in a few due to his popularity and excellent party planning skills. But all night??

He had been so irritated that Asmo snuck into their room to wait for them. Sitting on their bed with his best ‘and just where have you been at this hour?’ look to let them know that he was annoyed they missed their date.

But, the hours ticked on, and eventually Asmo fell asleep on their bed. Drifting to sleep rather peacefully, until the door opened.

“[Y/N]….?” He said groggily. Rubbing his eyes as he sat up. “Where have you been?” Ok, maybe not as accusatory as he originally intended, but the spirit was there.

His eyes eventually adjusted from sleep and the dark to spot them. Back lit from the hallway, but with just enough light for him to see they were covered in blood. “[Y/N]! What happened?!”

Asmo quickly sprung from the bed and raced over to them. “Oh no! Your poor clothes! Your hair! Are you alright?!” They looked a mess, but intact. Not that their outfit could really be saved. “Come with me. We’ll get you cleaned up in my bathroom. No one will bother us there. I was so worried [Y/N] but I never dreamed….oh never mind. Here, take my hand. We’ll get you cleaned up and into bed before you know it.”

Beel

Beel was always happiest when he was in his room with Belphie.

It was quiet. Just them. And he could finally relax after a long day just in his room with his twin. He had missed Belphie a lot when he had been banished to the attic, but was very happy he was back.

Beel was sitting on his bed, eating snacks, and getting ready to hit the hay when he heard a knock at their door. Belphie was already asleep, so he went to go get it. Thinking one of his other, equally important brothers needed him for something.

He was shocked to find [Y/N] on the other side of the door. Their face pale, except for the blood all over it. “[Y/N]!”

He cried out their name in alarm and pulled them into the room and close to look at them. “What happened to you!? I just saw you an hour ago, how could you….” His mind was suddenly racing with ideas. None of them good. His mind was also racing towards memories of the past. Deep in the past. Of the last time he actually saw Lilith before she was lost to them forever.

‘No, no, no! Not again! This can’t be happening again! This isn’t happening again!’

“What’s going on…..”

Belphie

Belphie sat up in his bed, hearing the commotion.

He yawned and rubbed his eyes, asking what was happening. In this family it could be anything from a blown fuse to the world was ending, so no reason to get excited until it was necessary.

He fully opened his eyes and saw Beel standing there with [Y/N]. His brother, wide eyed with a terrified look, and [Y/N] just standing there was a dazed expression. The only color in their expression was the blood actually clinging to their body. “What the hell happened?!”

“I..I don’t know!” Beel answered. Terrified, and still holding on to [Y/N]’s shoulders. “They just showed up like this.”

“Well are they injured or hurt or something?” Belphie asked as he came over to look at them.

“I don’t know!” Beel just repeated. He sounded like on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Belphie could feel his own panic attack rising. Funny how, not long ago, he actually dreamed of doing something like this to [Y/N]. Now the thought of losing them made him sick and impossibly fearful. “We…We should go get Lucifer.”

He didn’t know what to do or what happened. And whenever he didn’t know anything his brain immediately thought ‘we should get Lucifer’. Though he pretended to hate him, and said mean, cruel things to the man, he still needed his big brother.

“H…He’ll know what to do. He always does. I…I’ll go get him. You stay here with [Y/N].”

Beel nodded, but Belphie didn’t see it as he took off with a speed not often seen from the youngest brother. He just had to get Lucifer. He would make everything alright. He always did. It would be alright.

[ch4nb4ng]

The Pompous Lawyer II

Pairing: Changbin x afab!reader

Word count: 13.7k (WOOPS FR THIS TIME)

Genre: enemies to lovers

Warnings: 18+ explicit minors do not interact. Choking, kissing, arguing, mentiosn of naked body, handjob (m receiving), penetration, orgasm, dirty talk.

Tag list: @seo--changbin @j-0ne25 @cb97whoree

@kpopsstuffs

Note: HEY guys, its been a while. This took me a long time to write i am very much sorry :(((( I hope you enjoy and i hope everyone is doing well. I also appreciate all the support that I have received in my absence as well <3 Inspo is (here) (also psa thats literally visual porn you have been warned!!)

Summary: The case had not progressed, seeing as the two of you chose to spend the time together doing something else. But going back to the bickering enemies you were before may be harder than it seems.

The smirk on Felix’s face was apparent when he saw you walk into the break room, ready for another day of work. At this point in time, it was best for you to ignore his presence, you wanting to at least enjoy one sip of coffee before being berated.. It was also your luck that he was enjoying a light hearted chat (or so you thought) with your rookie, Hyunjin, out of all people, before they both went silent, waiting for you to take up the empty seat at their chair. Your best friend’s mouth was already open before your elbows could even relax on the table.

“Did you do it or not?”

A hand came to your chest as you rapidly placed your cup on the empty table, leaning forward as the liquid barely had time to swallow before choking, hard, the coffee going every pathway except your throat.. 

“That’s the first thing you ask at your grown up age?”

He shrugged, unbothered by your criticism as he continued looking, waiting for an answer to his ludicrous question. You had two options; lie and tell Felix that it was just a brief consultation, leaving him with no further questions and him continuously being suspicious, or tell him the truth and live a life of never ending embarrassment. 

“Just answer Y/n.”

Hyunjin had never received a death glare so terrifying in his life. 

“Is that how you talk to your T.O?”

“Stop deflecting,” Felix whined, hitting you on the knee, “did you do it or not?”

“No,” you laughed, the exaggeration of your chuckle making it obvious that you were lying, “it was just a brief consultation and beginning of preparation for the trial seeing as it’s next week.”

“Sure it was,” the rookie smirked, tongue poking the inside of his cheek before you stormed out of the room; being ganged up on wasn’t something that you wanted to deal with right now. Sitting at your desk and recording a stack of torturous paperwork was somehow much better than your best friend and rookie prying into your personal life,, together. 

It did not take long for them to follow, forgetting the convenience being that your desks were right next to each other. You decided to ignore them, letting your fingertips type away on the raised keys in front of you. It was only a matter of time before you knew that there would most certainly be a time where you had to face the consequences of your actions. Did you regret it? The logical part of you was saying a little. This had to be some sort of conflict of interest, any kind of vocabulary that could be applied to this situation was being applied. Mixing business and pleasure was probably not the greatest idea. Wanting to take back what happened yesterday evening would be the right thing to do; but being smart was tiring. Letting your brain shut off for a brief moment to enjoy the pleasures of life that was physical gratification from your enemy really wasn’t so bad, right? It was nice for now, mainly because it was all you had roaming around in your mind. 

That was, of course, until you saw the wide doors of the precinct open, and saw the pompous lawyer, with his ridiculously priced suit, compromising shirt that showcased way too much, and that stupid briefcase that had the gold plating on the exterior seams. God, it was so fucking annoying. The way you knew that your eyes would immediately dart to his handsome features. His sharp eyebrows, slicked back hair, his lips. Fuck. His lips were something you already noticed prior to your rendezvous, but now it was a whole different story, with a whole new meaning behind it. His walk was elegant, like all of a sudden he changed the way he strutted, still like he owned the place, but for some reason it wasn’t as annoying. You were kidding yourself if you were unaware of why your perception had changed so suddenly. Your eyes quickly darted back to the computer screen. It was better to ignore him at the station. All the officers had spoken before, and you would rather truly die than for it to come out here, from him, or you in the heat of the moment, out of all places. It was also just less of a mindfuck. Not having Changbin in your sight was not going to leave your mind trailing to what might be. 

“Y/n quick Changbin is here!”

“Fuck,” you mumbled under your breath, “if he asks tell him I’m not here.”

Your fall to the floor was sudden, hitting the top of your head in the process. The thud could be heard from a mile away, the painful groan following as well. It wasn’t a coincidence that you were under the huddle of your desk, and the name of the pompous lawyer had been mentioned. When you were back on your knees, visible to your coworkers, cussing them out seemed like the perfect option.

“Are you guys fucking serious-”

“Y/n?”

The anxiety in your stomach rose when you heard Changbin’s voice. The pompous lawyer was standing right there, and boy, did he catch you red handed. You were facing him, eyes at length with his own as you looked up at him. That smirk. That used to be the evil fucking smirk that now makes the hairs on your arms raise straight up in stature. The spiral was immense, immediate as soon as your eyes were on him. From the time you left his office last night, to when you drove home, ate your dinner, slept, woke up, and came to work. It was easy to be in denial. Easy to never come to the realization of ‘holy fuck I slept with someone I hate.”

But when the situation, AKA, Changbin, was staring you in the face, the feeling of denial was practically non-existent. All the memories of him flooded back in an instant. A heavy gulp swallowed in your throat, eyes wide as he continued to ponder down at you, and you hated that your mind immediately went to the gutter, mouth watering at the implication of being on your knees in front of this man. You could even see the pompous lawyer clench his jaw for a brief moment, another immediate shift in his demeanor as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Are you hiding under the table?”

“What? No I,” you huffed, not protecting your head and hitting it, again, one hand holding the base of your head, the other leaning on your desk to help you rise back to your feet. God this was fucking embarrassing, and your two cowokers snickering behind you was not helping the embarrassment at all.

“I just dropped my pen.”

The pompous lawyer crouched down, bending his knees all the way as his eyes scanned the indoor concrete flooring, not a pen in sight. His devil coated smirk covered his face as soon as his knees came back 180 degrees. Fuck your life. That fucking smirk! Before, it was the bain of your existence. The sole reason behind your anger and overall frustration with arrogant lawyers, district attorneys; basically anyone that you had to work with that wasn’t police or innocent civilians. But now, that smirk carried so many connotations. The flashbacks were immediate as you tried so hard to suppress and deny the ideas flooding your brain like a dam wall when there is a rain storm. Your heart rate accelerated, and the temperature of the precinct suddenly felt a little too hot. All you could do was stand there, looking at him wide eyed, knowing exactly what he was going to say.

“I didn’t see any pens there.”

“Hello Changbin,” Felix chimed in, a rather unusual grin when looking at the pompous lawyer, “how’s the trial prep going?”

The smirk on his face dropped immediately. The color drained from his face, the complexion of a ghost-like complexion covering his skin. He was now panicking, bad. There had been no time to get your stories straight. Did Felix know? Did he not? Changbin had way too much pride to tell a stranger, let alone someone he knew was your close friend, to him, about his private life. One that involved colleagues and criminal justice moreso. He also found it strange. Strange that Felix firstly used his name without mumbling it under his breath, and secondly, actually asking a question, inquiring about something that had nothing to do with him. The look of stress was a sigh of relief, knowing that the pompous lawyer completely forgot that he had caught you out.

“Uh good,” he quickly acknowledged, giving Felix his attention for all of 10 seconds, before turning to you again, “I actually came here to talk to you about that.”

“Oh,” you nodded, nothing remotely close to a smile, “can we talk later today? I just have a lot of paperwork that I need to get done by patrol time which is in,” you paused, taking a quick glance at the digital watch on your wrist, “1 hour.”

Changbin let out a nervous laugh.

“You can’t talk now?”

“No,” you huffed, “I just said that. Surely there is another reason you’re at the precinct?”

He shook his head, biting down on his bottom lip. Fuck it really shouldnt turn you on as much as it just did.

“What,” you chuckled, “haven’t got any clients in detention right now?”

“Uh-uh,” he smiled again, “I just came to talk to you quickly and then I have a meeting in the building next door.”

Your heart rate increased rapidly at his words; and that smile. God that fucking smile. It was too nice to look at, his lips making yours turn up in unison, eyes glued to the floor as it was much too intimidating to maintain eye contact with him at this moment. The tension felt thick, and the room suddenly felt like everyone else had disappeared, the two of you only existing in this space. A small giggle erupted from your lips, yet another reminder of what happened that last time only the two of you shared a space. The space solely between the two of you felt like it was getting smaller itself. 

“Ah-ahem.”

The sweet little moment was interrupted by the burning craters that were 2 pairs of eyeballs burning the left side of your face. You turned to them, a smile wiped off your face the moment you saw their grins. You tucked your hair behind your eyes, snapping back into reality mode. An immediate spark of anger rushed through your body, for two different reasons. One was that everything you told yourself in the morning, to deny and suppress. Secondly, the fact that you had been caught out, and humiliated in front of the two people that you interacted with the most during work hours. Now it would be even harder to deny.

“Ok so I’ll talk to you later?”

“What time?”

“I should be done patrol at like 3.”

“Okay well I’m busy after 3 so can I just talk to you now?”

“No,” you snapped, frustration increasing from Changbin not listening to you, “I just said that I can’t.”

“It’s going to take 10 minutes. Surely you can spare that?”

“Why? Because my work is not as important as yours?”

“No,” he scoffed, scratching his face out of his own frustration, “because I need to tell you before the end of the day.”

“Okay well I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

The sound of the precinct was softening, the sounds of other conversations coming to a halt, the only one that could be heard was the two of you with your in character bickering. People were starting to look, but you would not let Changbin get the last word out of you; this was always the case. He said nothing, jaw clenching at your non-compliance.

“Can’t you just tell me now, at this desk?”

“No,” he mumbled, “it’s kind of private.”

“Just say it now I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“What part of it’s private do you not understand?”

“Changbin if it’s about the case you can say it, everyone knows who he is.”

The pompous lawyer panicked, trying to say anything to keep your attention that he was so desperate for.

“So you,” he sighed, hesitating before he spoke again, “ so you want me to tell everyone that he said you’re a bad cop and he knew from the day he became your T.O?”

The look on your face was unexplainable.You were speechless. An immediate pang, which felt like a gunshot, shot straight to your heart. It should have made you more angry. Fuming that he would say something like that. But really, it just made you sad. It was genuinely hurtful, even though he was a criminal, to hear someone that you were so close to and looked up to speak ill of you. The hundreds of times he had said to your face how proud they were. It was all a lie.Suddenly the air felt thick, making it hard for you to catch your breath, gasp, breathe for air, the walls were closing in, and there was nowhere to escape. 

He, Changbin, could read it on your face. He couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was, but he knew that something wasn’t right. It was an emotion he had never seen on your face before. You were speechless, he was also speechless. The guilt hit him like a truck, twisting in his gut like the actions of a murderer with a knife. He stepped forward, a hand coming to your shoulder, but it was too late, your back was turned, and the closest free interrogation room felt like the right place to be as you locked the door behind you. A tear threatened to spill from your duct, finger immediately wiping any possible remnant of clear liquid before it could make a mark as you sat in the chair nearby as thought after thought after thought ruminated in your stress riddled mind. 

It wasn’t a surprise to hear a knock on the door. It was a surprise, however, that when your eyes peeked through the small glass window that covered the center of the door, it was the pompous lawyer that had come to your rescue. You quickly ducked down, praying that he didn’t see you. 

You shouldn’t be mad at him, but he really was the last person you wanted to see at that moment. It was too late though, the click of the door easily audible and now it was him, in the same room, looking at you, huddled up on the floor. The list of things to be embarrassed about was becoming easier to identify.

“Hey,” he mumbled, the volume of his voice lowering, practically non-existent at the last letter of the greeting. You quickly stood, humiliated that it was not the first time this day he had found you like this. You said nothing, a quick sniffle escaping your nose as you stood to face him.

“Look, Y/n, I-”

“Did he really say that?”

Changbin let out a heavy sigh as he averted your gaze, “I don’t think he meant it.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, genuine confusion expressed over your facial features. You began to pace back and forth, index finger in your mouth as your brain began to rewire itself. Trying to think of every single moment you shared with your T.O. Were there times on the job that he was doing dirty things behind your back? How did he do it? There was no doubt in your mind he was guilty, but the situation never failed to play games with your mind. It was a vicious cycle. Wanting to help him, but remembering he did everything you stood against, questioning why, how, trying to convince yourself he was a good person, and repeat. It was in fact where your mind was right now, and he could see it. It was written all over your face. Although you were ‘special’ as he said, you were not the first person to testify for a client of his that had a reaction like this. 

“Why would he say that though? It makes no sense.”

You continued to pace, making him worried very much so. Although he hated your guts, seeing you in this kind of anxiety, it made him feel for you. He stepped forward, attempting to prevent you from pacing back and forth, but it was no use. You were much too deep in thought.

“Y/n.” 

Nothing

“Y/n.”

His tone increased in volume the more you ignored him.

“Y/n,” he sighed again, “y/n?”

Fuck he did not enjoy being the lack of being acknowledged in the slightest. The blight on his ego was simply too big. 

“That’s it.”

He huffed, pacing over and perfectly timing his attack so that he could nip at your wrists, pushing your body weight backwards and against the door, hands above your head, just like last night. The look in the pompous lawyer's eyes, however, was slightly different. Not close to being as gentle or placid at the last time your proximity was so close. It took your mind out of that toxic loop instantly, the only noise you could make was a gasp. Maybe you blanked. Maybe you just completely dissociated, because you really had no idea how you ended up here, again, pinned against a hard surface, Changbin the one pinning you down. Brows still furrowed, a frustration was rising on your chest. No matter how hard you pushed, he would not budge. He was simply too strong for you. The thought made your heart race. Your chest was heaving up and down, breathing heavily as your body tried to make up for the pacing that was most definitely a workout for some, and you as well apparently.

“What are you doing?”

You tried again, a soft groan of pain escaping your lips as your elbow hit the wooden door. 

“Stop trying to escape, and listen.”

“Why should I listen to you?”’

It was now the pompous lawyer’s turn for his facial expressions to change. He was biting down on his bottom lip, jaw clenched as he just waited, simply waiting for you to, for once, not be as stubborn as usual.

“Because I’m trying to help you.”

“How are you helping me,” your tone was angry, the tremble in your voice was small, but it was definitely there, “ever since you’ve made me a part of the case, you’ve done nothing but hurt me. You’re doing it right now.”

His immediate reaction was to let go. The thought, to him, of genuinely hurting you in any way killed him on the inside. Before, it was a minute detail in his day; well, that was how it started for him. Day by day, it became the thing he looked forward to. Sure, his clients were important, but the moment Changbin saw your look of distaste from the moment your eyes met, there was a satisfaction. A gratification. If he went to the precinct and you weren’t there, he got stuck on it. He would never admit this, but arguing with you tends to be the highlight of his day. 

Hearing you say such words now; the impact was different this time.

“I’m sorry, I,” he hesitated, knowing you were in a vulnerable state, “I didn’t mean to.”

His voice was quiet, but it didn’t matter to you. The anger that was bubbling at the peak of your chest was making you too blind to see his genuine regret he had in the moment.

“You’re not helping me. You just embarrassed me in front of the precinct, again.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he hissed, starting to get annoyed by your antics, “I wanted to tell you in private, but you insisted on me telling you in the moment.”

The eye roll from you was immense.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“What,” you asked, unsure why he was reacting the way he did.

“Don’t fucking roll your eyes at me, I’m trying to fucking help you.”

“How have you helped me, huh?”

You took a step closer to him, then another, the pompous lawyer refusing to back down from your attempted intimidation. The two of you knew better than to participate in a subtle, yet strenuous tension in the form of a face off. Before it never led to anything, but with the events of yesterday already adding another layer of tension to the complication of your relationship, things were about to take another turn. Maybe it’s what you wanted. Maybe he too also wanted that. But you could list a bunch of other unsatisfactory tasks you would rather do than admit it. The space between the two of you was closing in an immediate time frame, the silent tension of the room deafened slightly by the footsteps that were your boots. Changbin’s heel on his obnoxiously luxurious dress shoes clicked backwards with each step he took. It was now his turn to be backed into a corner, wide shoulder hitting the back wall, opposite to the door. If anything happened now, anyone would be able to see through the window of the door. 

Your care for that was irrelevant as your back faced it, the thought not even coming into your mind.

“Why are you so silent now?”

“Because,” he gritted his teeth, “I did fucking help you.”

An exacerbated laugh fell from your lips, “You talk the talk, but you can never walk the walk Mr. Seo.”

It was his turn to smirk, his left hand dared to snake around your waist, fingertips traveling your midline, stepping at the edge of your neck. His thumb and index finger split ways, the pad of your digit giving your neck a gentle squeeze. Your eyelids fluttered involuntary, hating that your body craved him once the pompous lawyer's touch became existent. He could feel you, you were tense. Even the way your head slouched, shoulders decompressing, and then he squeezed again. God you should have fucking hated this. Swiped his hands away and punched him. How dare a man think he could just do that. 

But Changbin was only doing what you said. Proving that he could do the talk and the walk; all of a sudden the pompous lawyer was speaking a thousand words with two simple maneuvers of his finger tips. An unexplainable moan left your lips, the texture of his fingers feeling almost too perfect to gain your own skin.

“Ringing any bells now?”

You couldn't say nothing, the combination of your circulation being impacted and the secondary fact being that you would never admit when you were wrong. Although morally questionable, he did help you in his own way. Your lips began to tingle, unsure if it was from his grip on your throat, or the unexplainable feeling that could be equated to the dopamine high of the texture that was Changbin’s lips, but one thing was for sure. The longer he had you like that, the stronger the intensity to need him right here, right now became. 

When your eyelids fluttered open again, you couldn’t help but smile, now partly embarrassed of how easy it was for him to persuade you. Remind you of how good he could make you feel. The pompous lawyer, in his own way, was helping you get through this. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna regret this.”

You gave him no time to respond, walking backwards, dragging him by the hand around your neck as his backside landed on the edge of the table once more, your own legs atop of his as you now sit on his lap, lips lunging forward and connecting with him immediately. It was completely forgotten the environment you were in the moment the two of you connected. Everything felt so much clearer, like there was a pathway out of all of this. The pompous lawyer withdrew his hand from your throat, instead, snaking both to hold your ass in place. A deep groan escaped his lips as soon as he got his hands on your flesh. He was subtle with his touch here, a light rhythm of massage forming as the kiss deepend further and further, all of your senses focused on the texture, sound, smell of the pompous lawyer.

“Fuck,” you mumbled inbetween each kiss, “this is so unprofessional of me.”

He chuckled, the vibration easily felt against your lips as they left yours, covering the outer edge of your jaw, teeth gently biting down on your lobe, but that was it. It should be illegal how good his teeth felt fucking biting down on your like that. The pompous lawyer smirked, able to elicit the exact response he wanted.. He knew that you definitely were remembering how he was helping you.

“You never answered me,” he growled, voice laced with deep lust, the wanton need for you was eating him alive.

“You didn't ask a ques-”

“They’re fucking crazy.”

The voice through the speaker of the interrogation room took you out of the lust filled dimension that had engulfed you and brought you back to reality. The pompous lawyer knew he had been caught in a compromising position. He was much too experienced to know what that sound meant. The interrogation rooms at the precinct had a one sided mirror, allowing detectives to watch perpetrators when being interviewed, as well as if they needed to communicate with personnel during. Not for officers to be snooping on personal matters.

“Hyunjin what the fuck? Turn the one-sided reflection off and show me what you're doing right now.”

He did what he was told, the glass showing the sheepish, mischievous duo that was Hyunjin and Felix. Had they been there the whole time? Fuck. This is quite literally the worst thing that has ever happened to you in your life. The world was flashing before your eyes, and you knew damn well that there was no possible way that you could ever live this down. They also looked just as shocked, assuming they thought they were too slick to be caught. Changbin stood up immediately, bringing his hands to either side of his suit jacket in an attempt to straighten himself up. He checked his phone, pretending that he had a missed call from ‘someone important.’

“Oh uh, I have to go, I missed a call from a client.”

“Oh yeah sure,” you nodded, “you should probably take that.”

He nodded, eyes glued to the ground because quite frankly, he'd rather get hit by a bus than even having a chance of making eye contact with the two male officers standing in front of them. He went to walk out, meeting the two officers he wished to avoid outside of the room with you, the two of them watching your every movement. He looked at you once more, giving you a smile without lips or teeth, kind of like when you pass a stranger in the street and want to be nice.

“I have room tonight if you want to uh, discuss more about what we have been talking about.”

“For the case right?”

“Yes,” he yelled, way too loud and a poor strive of trying to come off as cool, calm and collected, the opposite of how someone should be after they have been caught making out with their sworn enemy. He coughed, adjusting his tone, “Yes of course, I’ll text you the time.”

“Yeah great okay bye.”

The pompous lawyer sped walk into the opposite direction. A sigh of relief escaped your chest the moment he was out of everyone’s sight. It was now time for your two best friends to cop the biggest grilling of their life. But later, you were honestly way too annoyed that Changbin riled you up and they interrupted such a hot, arousing moment. It was killing you the way that they didn’t even look apologetic. If anything, they looked like they were about to burst at the seams with laughter. There definitely was an “I told you so” bubbling at the brim of their lips.

“I don’t want to hear a fucking peep out of either of you for the rest of the day.”

The walk from the room to the seat was painful, the snickers and giggles erupting behind you only adding to your frustration. Even the moment you sat back down at your desk, they were burning holes into the side of your face with their eyes. You could only take so much. But at the same time it was impacting you from getting your work done, and that was where you drew the line. 

“How much did you hear?”

The two of them looked at each other, then back at you, a guilty expression written on their faces.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Would I ask if I didn’t?”

“We kind of followed Changbin for about 30 seconds after he went to look for you so he wouldn’t see us.”

A heavy sigh escaped your chest at their unfortunate confession.

“Ok,” you huffed, turning to face them. You really wished you weren't going to ask this, but it was better, you thought, to get it out in the open now, rather than being the elephant in the room.

 “I will let you both ask one question each and after that we never speak of it again. Deal?”

They both nodded, thank fuck.

“Okay, who is going to go first?”

“Me me me please,” Felix whined, kicking his feet up and down like a literal child throwing a tantrum.

“Okay go ahead.”

He smirked before opening that big mouth of his again, “what did he mean when he said,” he paused, adjusting his voice to imitate the pompous lawyer, tucking his chin in and lowering his head, thinking that would help achieve the sound he wanted.

“I did fucking help you.”

Your head was buried in your hands immediately. There was just no way you could answer. It would be opening a can of worms. You knew there would be no way that the two of them would be able to limit themselves.

“With the case. T.O is apparently saying a lot of bad stuff about me.” 

Felix knew as soon as your eyes darted away from him that you were definitely not telling the truth.

“You’re lying.”

You gasped, “No I’m not! How dare you even accuse me of that?”

Hyunjin smirked, “Y/n I’m sorry I know you’re my T.O and im 100% going to be stepping over the line here. But do you really expect us to believe that was the first time you have made out with that man?”

Your jaw dropped in disbelief. What were you even supposed to say to that? It was embarrassing because he hit the nail bang on the head. It took you back to last night, in his office, his length, his body that you saw always straining against that insufferable fabric, his hands, his fingers. The images of his hands on your core flashed through your mind for a brief moment, making you feel a little dizzy.

Hyunjin raised his hands towards you as he spoke again, “It looked like he really knew what he was doing with you.”

“Okay fine! You got me okay! It’s not the first time.”

“So when was the first time?”

“Last night,” you mumbled, turning away from them completely so the chance of them seeing what you said was zero to none.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Uh no,” Felix replied sarcastically, “I actually didn’t.”

“It was last night. At his office.”

The two of them said nothing, instead, Hyunjin reached into his desk drawer, pulling out a 10 dollar note and a pack of mini m&ms from the vending machine. 

“I fucking told you!” Felix yelled, causing half the precinct to stare. The three of you shriveled into your desks, whispering now seeming like the appropriate way to continue the conversation.

“Okay,” Hynunjin’s tone in a whisper was harsh, “you have to tell us the sequence of events.” “No I don’t? That’s so personal.”

“Oh yes you do,” your best friend interjects, whirling around in his chair to get closer to the two of you in the desk triangle, closing you in with nowhere to escape.

“Fine. You know I went there with innocent intentions. To talk about the case and that’s it.”

They nodded, but you huffed, knowing that you were about to sound so predictable and ridiculous to them.

“But, fuck man, he just makes me so angry. Like he says stuff to just piss me off on purpose because I say one little thing. Fuck he’s such a fucking dick! Like everybody, whether you like me or not, knows that this is a fucking hard situation for me. I was already so nervous going into it because the questions would be difficult. He just knows how to push my buttons.”

You closed your eyes, recalling the dialogue from last night in its entirety. For some reason you were anxious telling them. It had nothing to do with them judging you. They were simply just not like that. Maybe it was the fact that as you retold, you could feel his warmth, the touch that you mentioned you craved so much one it reappeared, running through your body. A dull ache formed under the top layer of your skin. Someone that you angrily hooked up with once, now twice, shouldn't have had this much of an impact on you. The context was vulnerable, you were sensitive, and he was just being there for you in sincerity, well that’s what you would like to think. Once your eyes opened, you were expecting a look of concern, but you were surprised, Hyunjin and Felix looking at each other with a brow raised before looking at you. They said nothing.

“What?”

“If I’m being honest,” Felix continued to whisper, “it kind of sounds like you were wanting to push his buttons.”

The rookie's eyes widened, clicking his fingers and nodding in agreement, “That’s what I was thinking!”

“Literally how did you derive that?”

“Y/n you know I’m honest. I feel like, and I can't believe I say a nice thing about that guy, but he was just being professional, asking the questions he needed, until you started rushing him, making comments out of the side of your mouth about him loving money.”

Felix paused, taking a deep breath, “I want to ask you, and don’t get angry with me.”

“Anything.”

“Did you go there, hoping that something would happen?”

You should have been offended by his question. What the fuck was he implying. But then you took yourself back to yesterday afternoon, and that feeling was back. That feeling that you couldn’t put your finger on, but you liked it. God did you fucking like it. The mystery of the unknown was enticing. But your best friend didn’t need to know that. 

“No,” you gulped, “I was just nervous to talk about the case, seeing as I blocked the core of it out of my mind.”

“We still don’t know what happened after he said, and I quote ‘I want to make sure you’re okay and you don’t get caught in the crossfire.’”

Felix giggled at Hyunjins dramatic recall. Your hand came to your face in the form of a facepalm, knowing what you were going to say next was so cliche. 

“Fuck my life, I said, ‘so rather than criticizing me, help me. Help me get through this how you would if you were me’ and one thing leads to another and.”

“And what, you guys kissed?”

Your lips escaped into your mouth, nodding, really not wanting to elaborate.

“Bit more than that?”

“Oh my god you guys fucked that’s crazy.”

The punch into Felix’s shoulder was warranted. You winced at the vulgarity of his words. However, it felt like a giant weight lifted off of your shoulders. 

“You didn’t have to say it like that, but yeah, we did and now its lowkey fucking with me head.”

The shrill of the desk phone almost knocked the three out of your seats. After your semi-heart attack has passed, you check the tiny phone screen, an unknown number popping up on the screen. You answered, sternly, “Hello, you're speaking with Officer Y/l/n.”

“Y/n hey, it’s Changbin.”

Your eyes bulged out of your head when you heard his name. You really should not be that excited at the sound of his voice. 

“Oh hey Changbin, what’s up?”

The two boys next to you were quick to swivel past, their ears resting against each of yours, waiting to get every single detail from a simple phone call they could.

“I was so flustered earlier, you know, getting caught I uhm.”

He paused.

“Can you cut to the chase please? We are very busy at the station here.”

Hyunjin nudged you, mouthing ‘that’s rude’ when you turned to look at him. He was right, it came off a little hush. Maybe you were just nervous, having an absent mind as to the reasons why he was actually calling.

“Oh uh sorry,” he coughed in between his words, “I realize I didn’t actually have your number. To contact you about our next appointment, nothing else of course.”

“Oh yeah,” you chuckled nervously, “sure for the case. It’s (y/p/n).”

“Great,” you could hear his smile through the phone, “I have some stuff at my apartment that I can’t bring to the office due to confidentiality. Would you be okay meeting at my apartment instead?”

“Uh, yeah okay sure.”

“Great, I’ll text you my address and the time.”

“Okay bye.”

Without warning, the phone was hung up back on the station. A pang of excitement streaked through your body, but vanished quickly, seeing your two best friends smacking each other silly. The moment you cut them with your eyes, they stopped, pretending to go back to work. They should not be this excited, and this time you were going to ensure that it was business only. You go, contribute to your testimony and leave. It did not matter that the setting would be informal, a couch, kitchen, a bed. The thought was irrelevant. It should have stopped there. But that would be too simple. One thought led to the flood of your brain, waves of cognitions of 30 minutes ago, his finger pads on your neck, lips on your jaw, which only naturally led to the lines of your ass tingling, reminiscing on the cool texture of the brown marble that was the edge of his desk. You could feel the perspiration excreting across your forehead at this moment. You brought your hand to your forehead, feeling an intense warmth at the touch. You were not getting just any fever from the cold weather. This fever only had the ability to be caused by one person. Him. The pompous lawyer, and it was fucking terrifying. It wasn’t even him as a person. Really you could care less about him personally.

The ding of your phone took you out of your thought monsoon, taking it out of your pocket immediately to see you had received a message from a number that had not been saved yet.

[12:42 pm]

*unknown* : Here is my address. I finish work at 7pm tonight. Does 7:30 work for you?

A sudden flow of panic swept through your body. Why did you feel so wrong, so guilty? It felt like a blight on your job, like it was going against everything you stood for. You also tended to have a flair for the dramatic. All you could do was stare at your phone. Unsure if you should even reply. If you didn’t, then you could save yourself from accidentally making this mistake. But then again, the longer you dragged this out, the longer you would have to work with him. Maybe it was just better to get it out of the way. Your thumbs began to hover over the screen, tapping the appropriate letters in order to reply. 

[12:53 pm]

Y/n: I finish patrol at 7 so 7:30 should be fine :)

[12:55 pm]

Changbin: No worries. C u then.

“He texted you, didn’t he?”

“He did,” you replied to Felix, “I’m going to his tonight after work.”

Hyunjin smirked, “To his huh?”

“Shut up,” you whined, “I’m just going to talk about the case, nothing else.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

Yeah, sure you were.

**

The day went surprisingly quickly. Patrol was quiet, just a couple of parking tickets. No chases thank goodness. The clock striked seven, and you were quick to clock out, giving you as much time as possible to get home, shower, fix your hair, chuck on some makeup, get a house warming gift and still be punctual.

You decided to go pretty low maintenance. Just a quick brush of your hair, subtle makeup, simple clothes being a pair of black flare leggings and a basic tee. It was already 7:15 by the time you were ready, and checking the maps, it was going to take another 10 minutes to get there. There was no choice for you but to leave now. Looking up at the mirror just before the front door, you had one last glance, noticing everything was in place before grabbing your car keys and speed walking to your car.

The drive was nerve wracking, eyes focused on the road while also trying to listen to the maps was fucking difficult. The time you estimated was correct, arriving 5 minutes early before getting out of the car. You locked the car with the button on your keys, placing them into your bag before taking in what was the pompous lawyers house. A basic white picket fence, however, his house was nothing short of grand. An iron carved black gate in front of the front door, well groomed hedges and flowers, tulips, roses, hydrangea, you name it. It was there. The statue of a large black fox, so sleek, tapered water out of its mouth running at the same time as the sprinklers covering the grass that made up the rest of the front lawn. Once you heard the doorbell similar to a grand opera, you knew this was a mistake. Changbin had to have been lying. The only reason he invited you to his house was once again just a flex. A brag to show how much money he made defending the scum of the earth. 

The front door opened, a much different person that was definitely not Changbin opening the door. You panicked for a brief moment, thinking that the pompous lawyer would do something as selfish as giving you the wrong address.

“Hello and welcome to the Seo manner. How can I help you?”

“Is this the right address? I’m here to see Changbin,” you shook your head, “Mr. Seo. I have an appointment.”

“Ah, you must be y/n. I am Seungmin, Changbin’s personal assistant.” 

Seungmin opened the iron clad door for you, allowing you to walk inside and once again, take in the inside of his house. The first thing you noticed was the staircase. It was in a circular motion, rounding all the way until it reached the second floor, appearing to be only one room there. The first floor had marble floors, similar to the desk of his office, very much open spaces. Interesting artwork however, seeming to be sketches of very much naked women around the house. Ugh. 

The pompous lawyer's personal assistant, who you did not know ever existed by the way, reached a hand out, inviting you to shake it. You accepted. Sheepishly, still taken aback by how annoyingly nice his house was. 

“Changbin is just in his home office. I’ll take you there now.”

You simply nodded, walking behind the new stranger.

“So how long have you been Changbin- Mr.Seo’s assistant for?”

“For a few years.”

“But we have never met before?”

“Yes well,” he chuckled, “I don’t really take part in his business life. More home and personal events.”

“Ah I understand,” you smiled. The walk was short. Two large wooden doors obstruct you from seeing his office.

“You know Mr. Seo talks about you alot?”

There it was again. He was now the second person to say that. It doesn’t matter, it’s not like it meant anything. You weren’t sure what to say, interrupted by the grand opening, seeing a much more relaxed Changbin. His hair was down, a much stronger wave to it. He was not wearing a suit either. The pompous lawyer was wearing a pair of black sweats, a white t-shirt that was of course way too small for his figure, and a navy jacket, accompanied by a collar. The thing that took you off guard the most was the glasses. This was also a new fact that you had learnt about this subject. That he needed glasses. They were cute the way they sat on his face, much too big for the shape of his features. You could feel the heat creep onto your cheeks as soon as his eyes landed on you. His smile was warm for the briefest second you could count, returning right back to stoic expression before getting out of his chair, walking up to greet you.

“Y/n,” he smirked, a quick glance up and down before his hand came out for a shake, “good evening.”

Your brow furrowed, constantly confused by Changbin’s demeanor. It was constantly changing, and you really did not know what to expect. The toxic part of you longed for it when it was simple, which was only a day ago. Nothing but arguing and bickering. Instead, it was this half witted, sarcastic charm, showing off his ‘professionalism’ in front of his assistant. If only he knew what happened at the office. You took his hand, giving him an unsure shake before pulling away, following the gesture of his other hand towards the small couch in the corner of his far from humble office. He took the edge on the opposite side of you, adjusting himself before he gazed at you again.

“How was the rest of your day?”

“Fine,” you nodded politely, “how was yours?”

“Uh great.”

There was some awkwardness, yet simultaneously, there was a tension that lingered. The two of you would be stupid to be ignorant of it. Too many things had happened in the past 48 hours to act like everything was fine. Maybe for him it was. Part of the pompous layers job was to act nonchalant, mysterious if you will. He could never show his emotions in court, especially when he was losing. He knew how to keep things cool, calm and collected.

But everything changed when it came to you. Even before yesterday, no matter what you did, it always got a rise out of him, and he could not help but lash out. There was no self control when it came to you. But similar to yourself, he would rather stay in denial than admit that care about what you think of him. Your opinion of him.

Your chest felt like it was going to burst. The guilt traveled over your body. He was trying to be nice, accommodating. He didn’t half come to find you after you begged him to tell you the hurtful stuff you T.O said. An apology was sitting at the tip of your tongue, but you were not sure how to say it.

“Did you want to get start-”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Oh,” he chucked, “what are you sorry for?”

You scooched closer, wanting to be genuine in your sincerity, “For today at the precinct. That was really unprofessional of me and I will make sure that my two fellow officers apologize the next time they see you.”

The pompous lawyer said nothing, instead, throwing his head back, just laughing at your apology. How fucking dare he? Give someone an inch, and they'll take a mile. It already annoyed you in general when someone laughed at your sincerity, but the fact that it was him; the level of anger was a whole new one. 

“Why are you laughing?”

“Oh,” you attempted to contain yourself, placing a hand on his chest, “why are you apologizing? I started it.”

“Oh.”

Your body suddenly relaxed, realizing that he was laughing with you, rather than at you. His laugh was somewhat infectious, causing you to follow suit.

“If anything I should be apologizing, I started it.”

“Oh well, are you going to?”

His laughing ceased quickly.

“No, I can't apologize for something I’m not sorry for.”

“Oh my god,” you huffed, immediately fanning your face to disrupt the heat that was coming to it. The smile on your face was impossible to wipe off. He noticed it too, but instead of embarrassing you, he got up, grabbing a folder of what you assumed to be classified documents off his desk and onto the table in front of you. 

“Okay so, we need to really get into the nooks and crannies of your daily routines with your T.O.”

The mention of your former supervisor killed the lighthearted mood of the room. Even though you knew that was the purpose of this meeting, it still was a sensitive topic. You nodded, gulping intensely in preparation for what he would ask you. 

“Right,” you sighed, gritting your teeth to stay on guard, “that’s what we are here for.”

“Yessss,” he hissed, extending his words, “well since this was an inside police operation, what would you do when he would communicate with witnesses that were part of the syndicate?”

“Uhh,” you puff your cheeks, eyes looking at the ground as you recall your memory, “I usually would wait outside because they would get me to coordinate and communicate with the backup officers.”

Changbin clenched his jaw as he concentrated on his notepad, legs spread wide as he focused the thin paper on one knee, forearm clenching back and forth to write down every intricate detail of what you said. 

“Okay, and so then what if it was a minor crime?”

“I’m not sure what you mean?”

“When the crime was not large enough, and there was no backup required. What did he do then?”

“Oh I see,” you gasped, understanding the question, “usually I would just stand behind. If it was a home visit, he usually got me to look around while he asked the questions.”

So you were not present during questioning ever?”

“Not really, unless it was like pulling a car over. I usually did that.”

“Right, okay.”

As he wrote down what you said, your brain, unforgivingly, started to tick. It felt odd that your T.O wanted you as a character witness, yet they kept saying bad things about you to Changbin. 

“Changbin, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

The pompous lawyer is unable to look up, still concentrating on finishing what you said on the notepad.

“Why would they want me as a character witness? Why do they keep saying bad things about me to you?”

His pen froze immediately.

“Uh,” he scrunched his nose, scratching his head in a feigning innocence, “I’m not sure. You do bring up a good point. Did you want a coffee? I also have tea.”

That was strange, but you chose to brush it off, blaming it on your nerves about the case being the reason for your perception. Changbin got up immediately, not even waiting for you to answer. You grabbed the bottle out next to your bag, making sure he could see what you were holding. He chuckled, “we actually have to do some work first.”

“Damn,” you sighed, smacking your knee playfully, “if only we didn’t need to do any work.”

“Yeah,” he replied, biting down on his bottom lip, “if only there were other things we could do.”

The tension in the room had come back, the intensity stronger than before. You knew he could be a douchebag, but not in a way that would turn you on a little bit. The pompous lawyer had never been so forward, putting it out on the table. It made you giggle, feeling like an innocent woman who had been corrupted by the devil that was the main in front of you. 

Your giggle was cut short, however, hearing your ringtone permeating through the room. Unzipping your bag next to you, you grabbed your phone, confused as to when you saw an unknown number. You still answered, as you normally did.

“Officer y/n, who is calling?”

“Y/n.”

Your heart sank immediately,knowing exactly whose voice was on the other side.

“Why are you calling me?”

“Hey y/n, how are you though?”

“How am I?,” you paused, taking your phone off your ear and putting it on speaker, “what the fuck do you think?”

“Y/n,” they sighed, “I know I fucked up, I’m sorry I-”

“Why did you try to throw me under the bus to Changbin?”

As soon as you answered the call, the pompous lawyer turned his back to you. He did not want any part of this. That was until he heard your last question. His actions were immediate, jumping to your side as he anticipated his client’s response. He was desperate to hear what your T.O was saying, but it was impossible, seeing as your phone was glued to your ear.

“What? I never said anything bad about you to him. You were my most respected rookie.”

“How am I supposed to believe anything you say?”

“Look, y/n, I know I have fucked up bad, but I truly never said that. Changbin told me to call you.”

“What?”

The look on your face was contorted, truly confused about what to believe. The pompous lawyer's eyes widened, hands hovering over yours as he attempted to take your phone, thumb reaching for the red button, attempting to hang up. He should have known better than to try and take something off of a police officer. Your hands were nimble, however, it was your foot that came in clutch, sweeping at his ankle before he fell to the floor, pinning him down, hovering over his body, keeping your phone on the floor above his head. 

“He told me to call you, ask you to help me in the case, by my character witness.”

“Oh,” you gritted, practically death glaring at the man underneath you, “did he?”

He tried to become free of your hold, but there was simply no chance. The anger that was beginning to bubble at Changbin’s deception was pooling into your hands, finger pads slowly digging into the bulge that was his forearm muscles.

“Yeah I-”

“Look, I gotta go. If you need something from me, you can contact me through your lawyer. Bye.”

You were quick to hang up the phone, simultaneously deciding to surrender your domineering position on top of him. Your chest was bubbling with vexation, hurt. Why would he do all of this? To embarrass you. To get back at what happened last night? How do you even address that?

The pompous lawyer said nothing, standing up and straightening his shirt before taking a seat in his home office chair. He opened his laptop, completing forgetting that you were there, to see him, for an appointment, to talk about this fucking case that he completely manipulated you into being a part of. You walked over to his desk, standing over him as you stared him down, refusing to give your stance. You waved your hands, knowing damn well that he would be able to see it in his peripheral view. He did nothing, instead, opening his emails and pretending to scan the screen, refreshing multiple times and most likely praying that he could get out of admitting to his fault by replying to a new message. 

“You have got to be fucking kidding me right now?”

Nothing.

“Changbin? Are you serious right now?”

Nothing.

“What happened to helping like you said?”

He said nothing for a third time, but in your book, three strikes, you're out. Grabbing the papers that laid on his desk, you picked them up, thawing them on the floor. It took the physical motion of the papers dropping to the inferior surface is how you got something out of him. He turned to face you, still in his chair, jaw dropped to the floor.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Your head falls back in a laugh, amazed at the audacity of his question.

“Did I get your fucking attention? Do these papers being messed up disadvantage you in any way? Will this mess up your pretty little house?”

You pouted, as fake in sincerity as they come. 

“Do you think that’s an appropriate way to behave?”

“God,” you sighed, “I knew this was a mistake coming here.”

Rather than arguing, it was easier for you to say nothing, grabbing your bag and heading for the door. Changbin watched you walk, but he didn't want you to leave. Of course he felt bad, but it was Chagbin. The pompous lawyer didn’t have the name for no reason. He scurried to the door, pushing it against your pull to shut it. Changbin stood in front, hands blocking the hinges to prevent your exit in any way. 

“Let me explain.”

Your gaze remained anywhere but on him, refusing to give the pompous lawyer that satisfaction.

“Start talking.”

“They were telling the truth.”

Your heart sank, again. You walked back to the couch, taking a seat in order to listen to the bullshit this man in front of you was about to say. 

“I did tell them to call you, but that was before I even mentioned the case to you. It wasn’t until yesterday when I spoke to your Sargeant that I should not have mentioned that. Which is why I was going to bring it up organically with you.”

“Right,” you replied in a blunt tone, “Did Sergeant tell you to lie and keep details from me as well?”

The pompous lawyer looked away, not wanting to fess up. The lack of answer made you shake your head, a laugh of frustration leaving your lips. Your hands were in the air. 

“You know what? This is my fault,” you yelled, voice growing louder with each word, “I shouldn’t have expected anything more from you.”

“What?” 

His eyes were squinted, completely taken aback by your bold statement. His eyes were blazing holes into your face, desperate to hear how on earth you would back up what you just said. 

“You heard me. God I feel like a fucking idiot myself. Expecting more from you, to actually treat me with care and respect. But of course you lied, and acted like the pompous lawyer I knew you were to be. You brought me here to show me once again, how rich you are and that you think you’re better than everyone else.”  

Changbin laughed, a smirk appearing on his face at your words, his own anger bubbling at the base of his throat. Like you said, his ego, pride was a large construct. The tumultuous amounts of time the two of you had squabble at the precinct, in front of others, being told off by the Sergeant, it was endless. But everytime you insulted him, directly attacked his character, it was like a stab wound right to the middle of the chest. 

“I’m a pompous lawyer? You’re the most fucking uptight officer I have ever seen. Do every single thing by the fucking book.”

He took a step closer as he continued his speech.

“Everything. I took the fucking stick out of your ass last night and what? For you to turn around and say I’m not helping you? I’m a pompous lawyer, yet I took the time to bring you to my office. I followed you to the interrogation room today. And you’re angry?”

“Yes,” you bit back, viciously, “I’m fucking angry, you lied!”

The pompous lawyer chuckled, again, taking another stride closer to you. You hated so many things at that moment. The smug expression on his face, the way his chest was puffing heavily when he finished yelling back. But what you really hated the most, truly, was how turned on you were. Impressed that someone in your life actually had the balls to give back the same energy you gave him. His aura was angry, but it was not being translated that way. If anything, maybe because your senses were being blinded by your arousal, but the scent that permeated from the pompous lawyer was one that you could feel yourself getting pulled in, and you hated it. Really, really hated it. Trying to maintain your composure was getting difficult.

“You’re not angry,” he chuckled, again, “look at you.”

“Are you joking,” you laughed nervously, “you have no idea how angry I am right now.”

“Show me,” Changbin huffed, closing the distance between the two of you to, at this night, at all time close proximity. You could feel the perspiration on your skin linger, causing the palm of your hands to clam up. What was his idea? What were you expecting? 

“What?”

The pompous lawyer’s tone decreased in sound the closer he got to you. His eyes however, did not move, pupils like superglue stuck to your own, every now and then hovering to your lips.

“I love when you're angry at me.”

“Why the fuck would you like that?” 

“Because,” he paused, gently slipping his arms out of his jacket, before he continued, “it makes me want to fuck the anger out of you.”

A gasp escaped from your lips, completely taken aback by the vulgarity of his language, again. Out of all the things he could have possibly said, that was the last thing you expected. But deep down, you knew there was much truth to his words, and therefore, maybe that was the reason why the two of you fought so much. You would be lying if you said that you hadn't thought about it. Maybe it was because of your love life, after being in a relationship for a long time, followed by a long period of being by yourself. You were content, happy with spending time with yourself, family friends. But there were moments where you needed some passion. Sure, police patrol at times was crazy work, but it didn’t feel personal. Sometimes it crept into your mind how nice it would be to have a man rip your clothes off, treat you harshly and not apologize for it.

Your pursed lips turned into a smirk as you took a step closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. You were stubborn, so was he. Making the first move, with your lips, was not a viable option. Changbin still looked mad, his face never changing as his own arms wrapped around your lower back. 

“Yeah?” you questioned, biting down your bottom lip, “I’m really fucking angry.”

This was not right. You forgot that the pompous lawyer had just lied to your face. But the feeling of his fingertips digging into your backside, palms crawling underneath the fabric that obstructed him from getting a feel of your skin, the real you, fingernails accidentally dragging across the faceless hairs on your back, the texture changing as a shiver shot down your spine, straight through the center of your back. A large gasp gritted through your teeth, the sound resembling one of giving up and into his touch. 

Changbin got closer, lips barely an inch away, his bottom lip accidentally touching your chin as he brought them to yours, dragging it out as long as possible before the gentlest kiss known to man. A small peck was all it took before hebecause after that, things reached a boiling point within a matter of seconds. 

Hands were flying around each other's bodies, tongues racing for dominance as the pompous’ lawyers strength walked you backwards, legs giving way as the back of your knees hit the edge of the sofa, falling backwards, lying across said sofa. Changbin chuckled as the two of you got pulled away from gravity, but he was quick to follow. The pompous lawyer’s reached out his hand to life you off of the couch, swapping positions so that he was now sitting on the sofa, spreading his legs wide as he used his left hand to point at you, middle and index finger suggesting you to sit a top of him, right hand undoing the buckle on his belt. Your jaw dropped at how simple he could multitask, and boy was it enough for you to accept the invitation. Each leg sitting on the opposite side of his, core begging to ache as the dense fabric of your bottoms gently brushed against his groin. The feeling that you have been chasing, the one you felt last night was coming back. 

“Mmm,” he mumbled, wrapping his digits around the back of your neck as he pulled you in again, hips setting a gentle pace as your lips and hips moved back and forth. It took everything in you to not let out the most gut wrenching moan. The two of you were doing the bare minimum, and admitting to Changbin, the pompous lawyer, that you were getting great satisfaction out of such a simple action was just something you refused to do. Instead he did it for you, the bellow of his groan sending a vibration into your lips, past your throat, and into the pit of your stomach. Your hands began to snake around, left hand snaking up and underneath his t-shirt, the other attempting to wip the belt out of its holding. The man below you pulled away for a brief moment, shadowing the dorsal side of your hands as he whipped his own belt out of each hole, pulling and pushing it away as the two of you reconnected. The pompous lawyer kicked the pool that was his pants off his ankles, your right hand continuing its mission,right to his throbbing length. The pompous lawyer accidentally bit down on your bottom lip, pulling away again to let out a deep moan as he felt the callousness of your feelers wrapping around him. A sigh of relief, followed by a lustful smile played on your lips as you kept your hand in the same spot, watching the pompous lawyer drag his hips in desperation. God, Changbin was already on cloud 9. You having his hand on his cock was all he truly could think about since last night. Even the brief moment, the fact that last night, he spent most of his time trying to pleasure you, the few moments you spent pleasuring him were all he could think about. He knew it was selfish, because watching you contort and give into him, even after all of the meanings she he has said about you in the past should have been good enough to imprint in his brain; and by all means, they were. But as soon as your hands were on him again, quite literally, his memories were only replaying that. Although you sitting on his lap was blocking his full ability for you to feel all of him, he did not care. Any touch that was yours was good enough for him.

You scooted back, allowing Changbin to lift his hips and swipe his pants off in one swift motion, dropping the fabric to his ankles. His expose now gave you free rain, pulling away as you tried to catch your breath as both of your hands wrapped around the base of his pulsating cock, the pompous lawyer's hips bucking involuntarily, lips shaking as his throat let out a deep groan at the contact. “Jesus,” he hissed.

“What,” you pouted, attempting to mock him in his vulnerable state, “can’t handle it?”

“You’re so annoying when your smug,” he groaned, fingers trickling across the hem of your shirt, arms leaving him for a brief moment as he lifted your obstructing garment over your chest, eyes almost watering as soon as it was off, two fingers hanging around your back and there it was, bra clipped off instantly. Your automatic reaction was to cover up, how ironic. It wasn’t something that he had not seen before, but this felt a little different. The longer he kept his eyes on your chest, the moreheated your cheeks became. His eyes softened, almost like he was watching you in awe. It made you freeze, part of you feeling rude if you moved. His hand came to your wrists, gently pulling on the flesh to prevent you from hiding, and as soon as he did, the man became a fiend. 

Chanbgin’s lips attacked the soft flesh immediately, fingertips quick to assist as they gripped the mound, tongue flicking across your left nipple. Your head was throwing back, your own hands running through the pompous lawyer’s usually slicked back hair. His teeth came into the mix, the roughness of his mouth truly felt like heaven. It was in some kind of way a metaphor of your relationship. Rough around the edges. The roughness being the constant bickering, the continuous back and forth, but nonetheless, it still felt good. So good. The pompous lawyer was unforgiving with his mouth, tongue leaving your nippes, still stuck out however, leaving a trail down your stomach. The cool sensation of his saliva felt like ice to your heated skin, back arching the closer he got to where you needed him the most. Your eyes opened as soon as his digits reached the waistband of your pants. Luckily the bottoms you chose to wear did not have any buttons or a zipper, because Changbin was able to swing them off of your hips, desperalty kicking your legs to take them off, along with your panties simultaneously. Desperate time calls for desperate measures. If anything, it added to the fun of it all. Made it feel like it was something you weren’t supposed to be doing. The whole point of this was to come here and work on the case. The testimony was only a week away and to be prepared was the most important thing. 

But as soon as you were in close proximity to Changbin, which usually boiled your bones, your brain conspired, a lust filling fluid encompassing the matter. It was going to become a real problem, because your cognitions began to change and associate with the lewd acts you did every time you saw him. 

But that seemed like a minute detail in the current moment as the pompous lawyer gripped himself, a few pumps as a small uncontrollable moan left his lips over and over. You lifted your hips off his lap, wanting to help him as he lined his cock up with your pulsating entrance. My god, were you throbbing. This had been the longest time that anyone had not touched you prior to penetration. Usually you needed it, the men you had been with before never did enough to prepare you in that way. But your pussy was quivering with anticipation, dripping with arousal for him. Changbin used his free hand, index finger briefly swiping through your folds, your hips jolting immediately at the unexpected friction. The movement was quick, bringing his digits to his lips and smearing your arousal across the pink flesh, tips entering the hole that was his mouth. Your eyebrows furrowed as your lips fell open, ocre throbbing even harder at how attractive the pompous lawyer looked, underneath you, tasting your slick. Fuck, if you knew this is what would happen everytime the tow of you disagreed, this would have occurred alot sooner. Every second that he wasn't inside of you, it was a second of more torture. 

“Hurry up,” you mumbled, giggling as your hips were fatigued, resting and letting your core land across his cock. Your clit barely brushed his tip, another nervous chuckle escaping your lips at the bare second of pleasure that flooded your veins at every little friction, every little touch. His smirk disappeared, tongue hanging outside of his mouth, eyebrows chiseled in a form that helped him to concentrate. But boy were you making it hard for him. You were such a distraction. There was a tumultuous amount of ways he wanted to pleasure you that were ticking on his brain, much more intensely before. Now, his brain was fried, your body combined with your horny daze was enough to drive him crazy. 

Changbin’s tip was prodding at your entrance, and enough was enough. You lifted your hips again, this time ready as his cock plunged into your entrance, a universal moan of relief from the two of you as he allowed his length to chrome buried in the depth of your pussy. Changbin brought you close, wrapping his around your back immediately, face hidden in your tits. You thought, once you were well adjusted to his girth, that you should move. And so you did, ankles lying on either side of his thighs as your knees chipped away at the sofa, hips slowly beginning to rise, and fall. Rise and fall. Over and over again. 

“Jesus fucking christ,” you spat, hips riding back and forth, the pompous lawyer’s cock hitting all the right spots inside. Changbin’s tongue found its way back to your nipples, the extra sensation leaving you unable to stay quiet. Every thrust was a new level of pleasure. Your digits came to the man below you’s face, leaning down to engulf him in a deep kiss, wanting Changbin to feel the moans in his throat. The pompous lawyer reciprocated, the combinations of noises spilling out of your mouth in unison creating a heavenly vibration across your lips. He chuckled as he broke away, head falling back against the back of the sofa as his hands were simply too desperate to not roam, finger tips gravitating towards the mound that was your ass. He smacked each cheek a few times, following by grabbing in an attempt to smooth over.

“Can’t believe that fat ass is bouncing on my cock again,” he grunted, smiling as he bit down on his bottom lip, “so desperate for me.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you whimpered, increasing the pace of your rhythm, “always cocky you are.”

“Yeah, and you fucking love it,” he chuckled, “this pussy belongs to me you know?”

Changin’s words made you moan, his possessiveness something that you didn’t know why, but really turned you on. His words always had an effect on you, no matter what. Positive or negative, the pompous lawyer’s words always had an impact that would be deemed much more significant than the average person should be by their mortal enemy. Then again, most people wouldn’t have sex with their mortal enemy, more than once. Changbin’s hands, the selfish things, began to roam again, slightly huffed at your lack of acknowledgement to his question. They somehow landed right where you wanted them, where they were earlier in the day, at the precinct. 

“Ohhh,” you moaned, wrapping your hands at the bat of his right wrist as they were at your neck, Changbin’s digits fondly wrapping around the fragile skin, the most subtle of pressure being applied. Your face was in a dazed awe, unable to concentrate on your hips moving in a syncopated style. Instead, he removed his hands off of you for a brief moment, standing on his knees on the sofa as he waited for you to do the same in front of him. Bending over, Changbin was quick to make work, using both of his hands to spread your ass, leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to your pussy, followed by a stingy few kitten licks, the friction making your knees buckle. You brought your hand to your throat, trying to recreate the exact feeling that you needed from him. But it wasn’t the same. It was after he pushed his oscillating cock back into your hole, did he notice your hand there. The pompous lawyer chuckled, in awe at how desperate you were for his touch. The two of you stood, bodies pressed against each other so Changbin could reach your throat. He did it with ease, mouth resting against your right shoulder as he bit down gently, the rough friction gratifying by every means. 

“So so good,” you mumbled, unable to form a coherent sentence, “don’t stop.”

“Such a fucking dirty girl,” he grunted, pulsating in his pressure against your throat, “imagine if anyone at the precinct saw you like this.”

You could only moan in response. His pace was cold, harsh, unforgiving. It made your whole body jolt in unison. He was right. The side you gave him privy to here in your personal time was something that not one of your work colleagues expected. Yes, you told Hyunjin and Felix information from time to time, but you were known as a stickler for the rules. A good cop that would never dare to do anything against the law. If police officers competed for employee of the month, you would be the employees that would have their face printed consecutively. Sometimes, it was hard for you to even believe that you were capable of showing, no. Letting someone see you in such a vulnerable, lust hazed state of consciousness. 

“You belong to me, don't you?”

“Mhm,” was all you could manage to say.

“Say it, say your pussy belongs to me.”

“My pussy,” you paused, feeling yourself coming to an all time high, “b-belongs to you.”

“Fuck,” he grunted, using his free hand to smack your ass once more, “you’re so hot when you’re obedient.”

He continued to fuck you, the pompous lawyer becoming more desperate with each thrust. The noise of Changbin’s skin slapping so loud it was sure to be echoing through the house, something Seungmin would definitely hear. His hips were beginning to lose their synchronicity, thrusts becoming slower yet harder. You weren’t sure how much more you could take. The pit in your lower abdomen was getting together and tighter, the sensation that was Changbin reaching an all time high at any moment. 

“Mmmmm Changbin,” you whined, unable to control the pitch of your voice, “Changbin fuck.”

“You ok baby?”

“I’m. I’m so close.”

“It's okay princess,” he cooed, the new nickname taking you by surprise, “me too. You need to cum?”

“Yes please.”

“Yeah you wanna cum for me?”

“Yes Changbin,” you cried, “it’s too much.”

“That okay baby,” Changbin whispered, “cum for me baby.”

His words smacked you into an orgasm, the sensation of the high rolling over every single nerve in your body at an intensity never felt by you before. You could feel the way your walls clenched around him uncontrollably, Changbin chuckling at how it felt around his cock. 

“Such a good girl,” he hummed, deeply, decreasing the power of his thrusts, “that pussy feels so good tweaking against me like that.”

The pompous lawyer did not last much longer after, quickly pulling out as he came on your back, hips jerking as he jerked himself to full completion. Your eyelids were dazed over, unable to calculate the time it took for Changbin to leave the room, grab a warm cloth, and clean your backside. He helped you off of your knees, grabbing a blanket that was under his desk before laying underneath you. He thought it would be a decent thing to do, cover you up as if he didn’t just see you completely naked. The two of you sat there for a while, a comfortable silence falling over the room as you stared at the ceiling wall.

“This is crazy, you know?”

You turned to look at the pompous lawyer, met with his perfect side profile. It made you smile for some reason.

“Yeah. I don’t know what happens but-”

“Do you regret it?”

The question made you rise from his side, leaning over to face him. 

“No. No part of me regrets it so far, as much as I should?”

“As much as you should?”

“Yeah,” you laughed, “you know, because we ‘hate’ each other?’”

“Oh,” Changbin smirked, “yeah, right. Listen, I don’t want to put a label on this right now. Our first focus should be the case.”

“I agree,” you smiled, pressing a quick peck to his lips.

“Awesome. I’m really sorry about lying to you as well. I felt like if I didn’t say those things, you wouldn’t have jumped on board with the case.”

“Look I get it, but please just don’t lie to me again. I always prefer honesty, and value it, now more than ever”

“Got it. I have one more thing I wanted to bring up.”

“God you talk a lot,” you whined in a joking manner, “what is it now.”

“At the precinct, we should keep things the way you are.”

“What do you mean? Like continue to argue in front of everyone like we normally do?”

“Yeah,” he paused, unsure if you were on the same page, “just so people don’t become suspicious. I personally am a very private person when it comes to my personal life. I’m sorry if that offends-”

“I am on the same page. Felix and Hyunjin already interrogated me about today. I don’t need that from everybody else.”

“Great. Should we work on the case now?”

“Totally.”

You smiled, getting up from the sofa as you found your clothes in a messy pile on the floor, simultaneously watching the pompous lawyer’s muscles bulge and flex as he also put his clothes back on. It shouldn’t have hurt your feelings, but there was a gentle pang at the bottom of your heart that he wanted to keep things casual. It didn’t matter anyway though, because once the case was over, the two of you would go back to normal. 

Barely seeing each other and bickering when you did, right?

[the-spaced-out-ace]

Lautski Week! Day 2 - party

@lautski-week

If it were really up to Steph, it would be completely illegal to make your kids do something they didn’t want to, especially if it wouldn’t benefit them in the slightest. For a nonspecific example she would use in this untargeted idea, the daughter of the mayor being forced to attend her dad’s parties. Should Steph make a list ranking her least favorite kinds of parties to attend, political rallies and fancy rich people galas would both be pretty much at the top, possibly even tied for first. 

What made it so much worse is that this time around, it was known around town by now that Stephanie Lauter had found herself a boyfriend, and to prove that she was being responsible about it, she asked him to come as her escort. 

(Admittedly, Pete was also there as moral support, because she didn’t want to be around judgey older people that almost always fed into her being a reflection of her dad. She didn’t want to deal with the feedback loop when her dad held her reputation over her head because he’d claim it would hurt him in the polls. She just wanted to be a normal teenager and build an online social life and go to real parties and sneak around with her boyfriend. So she’d take what she could get. Even if she did apologize to Pete repeatedly for getting him stuck at a stuffy political rally for a night. 

He’d assured her she was okay and he was happy to come support her, though part of her still felt bad, because even if these events weren’t straight up boring, she still couldn’t stop thinking about Pete’s preference for anonymity and privacy. Something he definitely wouldn’t get being around the richest, bitchiest, and nosiest people on the island for a whole night.)

“I really appreciate you’re here tonight,” she said about an hour into the night, tightly clutching a glass of shitty sparkling water. “I know parties aren’t really your thing.”

“It’s really no problem,” he said, “I hope it’s more bearable for you.” He took a sip of his normal, not-vaguely-fruit-flavored water. “I really like your dress.”

Steph rolled her eyes. “Miss Tessburger picked it for me. I made some adjustments.” Her original dress had been a stuffy pink thing that could have swallowed her whole if she hadn’t bothered to try to fix something, so channeling the few things about sewing she could remember learning from her mom (she’d made her own gown for the Honey Queen competition, so she had certainly known a thing or two) so the dress would have been less miserable. She moved the hemline way up and removed the sleeves completely, and though it wasn’t a clean alteration, she’d give herself some credit for being an amateur and having done it last minute. She looked Pete up and down. “You’re not so bad yourself, Spankoffski.”

Pete was wearing the same vest and dress pants he’d worn to homecoming, though he exchanged the red tie he wore in October for a blue one instead—school colors, after all, and he guessed if there was a dress code at an event like this, trying to show support for the public school might’ve been a good move. Not that the people who attended this event seemed to even care he was there. He was just a Spankoffski, after all.

He shrugged. “It’s the nicest thing I own,” he said. He looked around. Most of the attendees were drinking or already drunk, and the chatter he could make out seemed overtly catty and subtextually fully condescending. He couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to get into conversation where both parties were just going to be miserable.

(Not to mention it was noisy in here. Too loud loud loud so sometimes he actually couldn’t hear himself think. But he kept telling himself to brave himself through it so Steph wouldn’t have to brave it alone.)

“It looks nice anyway,” she assured him, then she scanned the room herself. 

She really didn’t get why she always had to be at these parties. Sure, sometimes Miss Tessburger would breath down her neck, but Steph would still estimate that her father’s assistant still spent around 50% of her time at events doing her actual job and assisting the mayor. Even less so this time around since she had her boyfriend to watch out for her instead (even though like, what kind of trouble could she actually get into when in the same room with Tessburger anyway?) The vast majority of the guests quit paying attention to her after they got enough alcohol and elitism in their system, so she doubted that she was on anyone’s radars. There just wasn’t any fun or gain to this. And one extra look at Pete told her he felt about the same. 

“You doing okay?” she asked. “You look really spacey. Like you could shut down at any moment.”

“I...I just think it’s kinda loud,” he admitted, “and that maybe if I do even one thing wrong everyone is gonna judge me?” He paused for a second. “But it’s fine,” he backtracked. “I’m here to help you, not the other way around.”

“It’s okay if you’re not enjoying it,” she said. “I never do.”

“I could already imagine, but I really see why now…” 

Steph nodded and began looking around the room again. Still seemed there was no one paying attention, and she didn’t see any point in torturing Pete too much longer. Knowing him, he’d probably keep letting himself stew in misery and social anxiety of it made her night any more easy, but Steph didn’t see any point in keeping the both of them so miserable. 

“Don’t you and your brother typically have movie nights on Saturdays?” Steph asked, knowing damn well they did. 

Of course, Pete nodded. “Horror Movie Saturdays. I haven’t missed a Saturday in seven years. Except for tonight, I guess.”

Steph checked her phone. “Well, it’s only eight right now. Think if we snuck out now we could convince your brother to let me join in?”

It seemed to Steph from the way Pete’s eyes lit up ever so slightly then that he was picking up what she was trying to imply. They could just leave, tonight could be for themselves instead. 

“He’s probably gonna pick something really weird,” he warned. 

“Fuck it, the weirder the better. It’ll take our minds off of how soul crushing this is.”

Pete considered it for a second more, then nodded. “Let’s go.”

“Fuck yeah, Spankoffski. The night belongs to us.”

[munson-blurbs]

could you write about eddie and the reader suppose to be going out together but the reader thinks eddie stood them up but he got into a super bad car accident is in the hopsital and the reader doesn’t find out about it til a couple days later

I couldn't make reader wait too long because I couldn't do that to myself her, but I hope you like this! Sorry it took so long.

Warnings: car accident, mention of injuries, slight angst, some language

WC: 1.2k

--

Eddie was supposed to pick you up for your first date at 7:00 PM. You didn't expect him to show up on time; you'd been friends with him long enough to know that punctuality was not his forte, but he was now an hour and a half late. That was a lot, even for Eddie.

You dialed his phone number for the third time, listening to the ring until Wayne's recorded voice greets you.

You've reached Eddie and Wayne. Leave a message.

"Hey, Eds," you start. "It's me again. Just wondering if you were on your way, or if you forgot about...anyway, call me back when you get this." You hang up the phone, tears prickling in your eyes.

Maybe it was all a prank, or a stupid dare from one of the Hellfire guys. It made sense; why else would Eddie have asked you out after all this time? You'd been crushing on him for years.

You settle onto the couch, grabbing a bag of potato chips despite your appetite all but disappearing at the prospect of being the butt of their joke. You pick up the phone again, but you don't call Eddie this time.

"Henderson residence," Dustin's chipper voice perks you up briefly; the boy was always kind to you.

"Hi, Dustin," you say somberly, trying not to show how sad you truly are.

"Y/N? he asks, worry evident in his tone. "What's wrong? Aren't you supposed to be out with Eddie?"

You feel the tears slip down your cheeks as your emotions get the best of you. "He stood me up," you tell Dustin quietly. "Be honest with me, please--was this all a joke?"

"No. No, no no," he insists. "Eddie hasn't shut up about you or this date for ages. And he would never do that to you. The guy worships the ground you walk on."

You roll your eyes at his dramatics; carrying your books for you and kicking Gareth or Jeff out of the passenger seat of the van so you could sit there certainly was not worshipping the ground you walk on.

"Look," Dustin continues, "let me figure out what's going on. I'll call you as soon as I get info."

"Thanks," you croak out. "I really appreciate it."

"Of course," he says before hanging up with a click.

~

The phone ringing wakes you up from a dreamless sleep. You've passed out on the couch; the clock on the wall reads 2:37 AM. Who would be calling at this hour? Dustin was an intense kid, but even he would wait until the sun was up to call you back.

You snatch up the receiver before the bleating can wake your family. "H-hello?" you harshly whisper.

"Hi, is this Y/F/N Y/L/N?" an unfamiliar female voice comes over the line.

"Yeah? Who's this?" you question suspiciously. She didn't sound like a telemarketer or a crank caller.

"I'm Shelby, a nurse at Hawkins General Hospital," she explains. "Your friend, Edward Munson, was brought here earlier tonight after he was in a car accident." She pauses for a moment. "You were listed as an emergency contact on some previous paperwork he'd filled out the last time he was here."

You remember that; he'd broken his ankle last year while jumping off of the stage at the Hideout. Since Wayne was at work, he'd put down your name and number.

"Car accident?" you sputter, sitting up quickly. You're suddenly wide awake. "Is he okay?"

"He is now," she tells you gently. "His car was hit head-on by someone driving the wrong way, and it flipped. The paramedics had to cut him out of his seatbelt."

Your throat is dry and you feel your stomach lurch. "Oh my God," you whisper.

"We're still waiting on the scan results to ensure there's no internal bleeding," Shelby continues, "but he's awake now, which is a good sign. Keeps asking for you."

Your heart melts at this. "I'll be right there," you tell her earnestly. You technically weren't supposed to take the car without your parents' permission, but they would make an exception for this circumstance.

The drive there seems to take an eternity, and you run into the emergency room as soon as you kill the engine.

"I'm here to see Eddie--Edward--Munson?" you tell the receptionist, panting from your sprint. "I'm his emergency contact." You give her your name, and she nods.

"He's in room 110," she informs you, pointing down a quiet hallway. You quickly find his room, knocking gently at the already open door.

"Tryin' to sleep," Eddie's groggy voice floats by, thinking it's another nurse dropping by to take his vitals yet again.

"Eds," you say softly, "it's me."

His eyes widen as he unsuccessfully tries to push himself up on the bed. He winces at the pain and slumps back down.

"Don't get up," you tell him, pulling the armchair over to his bedside. You take his hand in yours, mindful of the IV needle taped to the back. A brace collars his neck and his left arm is wrapped in a sling. Bruises are forming around his eyes, and scratches mar his cheeks and forehead. "What happened?" you ask, rubbing your thumb along his.

He grimaces as he tries to look into your eyes, momentarily forgetting about his neck brace. "I was driving down Miller Road and this asshole comes barreling down, smashing into the van and sending it flying." He exhales, resting his good arm around his aching ribs. "Stupid schmuck didn't even stop. Someone else ran into a nearby store and called 9-1-1."

"I'm just glad you're alive," you murmur, gently placing a kiss on his cheek. "But wait," you pause, "why were you driving down Miller? You don't need to go that way to get to my house."

Eddie manages a small laugh. "Yeah, but I needed to go that way to get to the florist," he admits. "Wayne told me that if I waited all this time to take you out and didn't even bother to bring you flowers, he would smack me with my own guitar."

You giggle at the thought of Wayne threatening his nephew. "Knew that man was a romantic at heart."

"Nah, he just didn't want me to mess things up with the girl of my dreams." A blush creeps into his scarred face.

"Well," you sigh, looking around the room, "this wasn't exactly what I pictured for our first date, but it'll do." You stand up and release his hand. "Give me a sec, okay?"

"Where are y--" but he can't finish his thought before you dash out of the room, returning 15 minutes later with an armful of treats from the hospital cafeteria.

"All right," you start, placing the food on the table next to him, "we've got some sandwiches, pretzels, potato chips, and apple juice. Oh," you remember, "and this." You hand him a plastic container with a piece of chocolate cake. "The cashier said it's the best thing there, although he may have just been trying to get rid of me."

You fiddle with the radio until you find something resembling smooth jazz. Eddie wrinkles his nose. "What the hell is this?"

"It's mood music," you tease. "Did you think we were gonna listen to metal on our first date?"

Eddie chuckles lightly, careful of his sore body. "I'd listen to anything as long as I'm with you."

Your face lights up. "Even--"

"Not Madonna!"

--

[something-tofightfor]

2023 Year End Summary

I usually use this post as a way to wrap up my year, and this one's no different.

See beneath the cut for some of the highlights of my year - and some thank you notes.

First story post of 2023: Competing For Christmas 6.2 - Let It Snow (The Scavenger Hunt)

Last story post of 2023: The Epilogue of Snow and Mistletoe (which will be posted later tonight)

Most Surprising Thing I Wrote in 2023: Wing Pit Daniel. Who the hell thought this would be a thing? Certainly not me.

Daniel + Vacation /First and 10  / Daniel + Beer / Daniel - Distracting Kiss / Smutsgiving: Sweet Potato Casserole

Something I never thought I'd write in 2023: Sex Pollen for Marcus Pike.

Things I'm proud of writing in 2023:

Tim Rockford Headcanons and the resulting Black Days

Liminality

Joel Miller: NSFW ABC's / All I Ever Needed / Everybody's Waiting For The Next Surprise 1 + 2

Over the course of the year, I wrote just under 434k words on a total of 23 series/stories/events.

This is 65k below where I wanted to be - but I definitely got sidetracked during a few months - including a few where I took vacations or my mental health was in the toilet.

My goal for next year will be 500k words again, but I'm going to set some specific goals for my writing, including finishing a few things that I've neglected for far too long. That includes:

Slopeside

Buried

Locked Down

Caught On

It's Dangerous To Fall In Love

Nightingale

I'm also going to finally release Baseball Jack in his entirety on you in 2024... get ready. I'm not going to lie - 2023 was disheartening from a writing standpoint for a lot of reasons.

Engagement was way down, the same small group of authors and stories seemed to be the only ones getting any sort of traction in the Pedro fandom, plotlines and characterization that I have no interest in writing or reading were the craze - especially for Joel, and actual feedback on things was almost nonexistent.

But that doesn't mean that I'm not proud of what I wrote, how I wrote it or why I wrote it.

I've said it before and I'll say it again - I'd rather have smaller numbers overall and be absolutely happy with what I've put out and how long it took me to do so than rush things to hop in on current popularity or hope for instant success with a story.

My writing process hasn't changed - and while I appreciate and have respect for people that can and do post things without editing or rereading or sitting on their work and letting it settle, I've never done that, and I never will. I'll also never hold my stories 'hostage' or threaten to keep new chapters under wraps until engagement improves or I hit a certain number of likes/followers/etc. That's unfair - and for something that's supposed to be fun for both writers and readers, it's baffling to me when people do this.

And now on to the fun part: I read some amazing work from some amazing authors this year. The list includes but is not limited to:

@the-blind-assassin-12 @oonajaeadira @littlemisspascal @wildemaven @trulybetty @morallyinept @prolix-yuy @tessa-quayle @grogusmum @whataperfectwasteoftime @keldabe-kriff @katareyoudrilling @undercoverpena ... and so many more. You're able to do things with words and storylines that is SO impressive. We're all lucky to see and read your work. If I didn't include you, please know it's not on purpose. And it's not only writing: it's art, too. @stealyourblorbos @valkblue @thekawaiifruitworld @versatileginger @saminadorazahi @be-an-echo ... your talent is endless. thank you for sharing.

There are so many talented people in this fandom that I wish I had more time to read and admire their work. That's one of my goals for 2024: to consume more content from people on tumblr and A03 and share it. I know I need to do better with this. I know I've been slacking. I don't want to do that anymore. My goal for 2024 is also to make some new friends on here, because to be truthful, I feel a little on the outskirts of so many friend groups, and that's no fun. So if you'd like to message me or say hello or interact, please feel free to do so. I'm also on Discord - somethingtofightfor is my username there. If we've interacted in any way throughout this year, please know that I appreciate you. I thank you for taking the time to read my work or reach out to me. I see all of the comments and messages even if I don't reply right away (something else I'm going to work on getting better about in 2024!!!) Happy New Year to all of you - I hope 2024 is bright and warm and filled with love and support. You deserve it.

[howtodrawyourdragon]

A Helping Hand

Summary: Written for July Break Flash Bingo 2024. Set in a Modern AU. Hiccup struggles as the pain in his leg is especially bad today. Good thing there's a helping hand nearby.

Warnings: /

Rating: Teen and Up

Prompt: Location: Parking Lot

Words: 910

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Characters: Hiccup, Astrid, Eret

Pairing: Hiccstrid, Eretcup

Author's Notes: The first JBB prompt I wrote for in general, no idea why it took me this long to post it.

Anyway, I've been posting some heavy whump as of late, so why not post a much lighter fic for today? :)

Enjoy!

The card and fic are under the Keep Reading.

-XOXOX-

Today is a bad day to go grocery shopping and Hiccup knew that before they left, but he assured Astrid that he would be fine.

He’s certainly regretting it now.

He’s trying not to lean too much on the cart as he limps around, following his fiancée. Astrid is pretty much running around, trying to get as many of the items on their list to cut this shopping trip short. The pain in his stump was less pleasant than usual earlier today, but after driving here and walking around Berk’s one and only supermarket for the past ten minutes, it has become so much more unbearable.

And Astrid is annoyed. Not with his pain, never with his pain, but with the fact that she trusts him to tell her when he can’t do certain things because of his leg and he didn’t do that today.

It’s so bad, the pain in his leg is giving him a migraine. And what doesn’t help are all the people trying not to stare at him.

He had a couple of plans, a few things to do, but it turns out he’ll be canceling all of it. He’ll be glad when they finally get home and he can crawl back into bed.

Eventually, Astrid manages to find the very last item on their list and then they head over to the register with a very full cart to pay for it all. Once all of their items have been scanned, Astrid tells him to go ahead and head for the car while she pays. He shouldn’t even bother to load any of the stuff up, she’ll take care of it.

Not feeling up to argue with her on that, he does as she suggests and heads out ahead of her. He limps out of the store and finds their car in the handicap spot. It is mercifully close.

Still, his limp draws enough attention. Particularly from a man who only moved here a couple of months ago.

“You need any help?” Eret asks. He was just about to walk into the supermarket himself when he spotted Hiccup struggling with the cart. The uneven terrain doesn’t exactly make it easy to use, not with an obviously painful leg.

Hiccup considers how stubborn he’s feeling in the moment before relinquishing the cart to him and nodding. Eret comes over and takes it from him. Crossing those last few meters together, Hiccup opens up the trunk of the car.

He and Astrid don’t use it often, just on days like these, when the alternative is walking across the city with a very achy stump.

“I got this, you go sit down,” Eret tells Hiccup when he attempts to help. The younger man shoots him a grateful smile and heads on over to the passenger seat in front. He’s not driving when his leg is like this, he’s not driving with a migraine, so he’s certainly not driving with both.

He drops into his seat, lies his head back and closes his eyes. They’re heavy, if he wasn’t in so much pain, he would be falling asleep right here as he waited for Astrid.

After barely any time at all, Eret has loaded up all their stuff and returned the cart. Hiccup knows he’s done when he appears at his still open door and gets his coin from the cart back.

“Sir,” he gives him a friendly, though playful smile. Hiccup returns it briefly, which takes more energy than he can spent.

“Thank you for helping out, Eret. I really appreciate it,” he thanks him, but all Eret does is flash him a smile and tell him to take care of himself before heading into the store himself.

In the side-view mirror, Hiccup watches him go.

Eret moved to Berk a good few months ago in the hopes of starting a new life. He hasn’t shared much about his old one, just that he’d made some bad decisions in the past, go involved in a job he hated and then came here when he quit it on a whim.

Currently, he’s working down at the docks as a fisherman.

Hiccup and Astrid are friends with him. Hiccup certainly since he’d gotten his number after that night of bowling with their entire friend group. And although Ruffnut tried very hard to get it all evening, Eret gave it to him just like that after a single conversation.

A moment later, Astrid plops down next to him in the driver’s side.

“I saw you had some help,” she mentions to him.

“Hm-hm.”

A moment of silence.

“Eret is such a hot piece of ass!” She states quietly, as if he’ll be able to hear them inside the car. Hiccup smiles before immediately regretting it and moaning miserably. His entire face is starting to hurt from the migraine.

“Don’t you think so?” Astrid asks as she starts the engine. She knows Hiccup has his number and Eret has his, she’s onboard with the idea of them.

“He’s nice to look at,” Hiccup admits. “But most importantly, he is nice.”

“I wouldn’t mind if he was nice to me, too,” Astrid admits to her fiancé and they share a smile before she drives out of their parking spot and leaves for home.

Inside the store, Eret can’t help but look back as well and watch as the two drive off. His day definitely made afte r an unexpected encounter with them.

-XOXOX-

[notsoattractivearenti]

Polar Opposites (Christian Pulisic x Reader) - Part 2

WC: 1.4K

Warnings: curse words

A/N: I honestly didn't plan on writing this second part this soon but here it is 🤭 Huge thanks to @ariddletobesolved for her help! 💗 Hope you all enjoy and I'd love to hear your thoughts thru reply/reblog/ask 🫶 If you wanna be added to the taglist let me know 😊 Feedbacks are highly appreciated!

| PART 1 | PART 3 | PART 4 |

---

Planning a party is one of your favorite things to do, but this time you couldn’t even enjoy doing so because you had to plan an engagement party with someone you pretty much despised – it was such a nightmare.  The previous day, Christian agreed to come to your place to discuss the arrangement.

“Black and white. Simple.”

“Black and white? Wha- Are we throwing them a fucking funeral? No. Pick other colors, Christian. Don’t be so basic.”

“Oh, like you have a better suggestion?”

“Umm, as a matter of fact I do. I’m thinking light blue, ivo-“

Christian gagged, “Yuck, soft colors? Too feminine, sounds horrible. Veto.”

“Sure, I forgot how “masculine” you are for a second,” you rolled your eyes, responded to his objection sarcastically, “of course “feminine” colors give you the ick.”

“Hey don’t twist my words! That’s not what I’m saying!” Christian shouted. 

You and Christian spent more than 2 hours just arguing over the theme and color scheme for the party. Claire and Nick put you and Christian in charge of everything – they only informed you about the date and possible guest list – so both of you had to plan the whole thing together. You two shared the same goal: to make this party perfect for the happy couple – but had very different approaches. 

- - -

“Listen... Outdoor dinner is so romantic. You can literally look at the night sky, and the lights, oh... Bet you they would love it!”

“Why outdoor when we can do it indoors? It’s sheltered, we can control the temperature inside, no bugs... Need I say more?” He argued.

- - -

“Carrot cake. Definitely carrot cake.” He suggested.

“Nooooo,” you whined, “you literally have the worst taste in everything. Disgusting!” 

“What do you mean ‘disgusting’? It’s fucking delicious!”

“It is most certainly not. But Red Velvet is, so let’s just go with that.”

“Veto!”

- - -

“I think we should go with plated dinner. It’s a lot more sophisticated. And simple. An-“

“Jesus, Christian!” You interrupted him. “How is that even simple? Have you ever planned a dinner party before???”

“Okay then, please explain how the fuck could a buffet be better than plated dinner???”

“Buffet is the only right choice! What if some of the guests don’t like the food? With a buffet at least they have more options. It’s not even the wedding!” You insisted.

- - -

It was almost impossible for both of you to find a common ground. He thought your idea was too complicated and took a lot longer to plan, while you thought his was too effortless and didn’t feel special at all. You two kept pushing your ideas to each other and were too stubborn to compromise.

“Do you want to plan a party or not? Stop messing around and for fuck’s sake, just decide on something!” At this point, Christian had lost most of his patience.

“I was never messing around in the first place! Ugh,” you grunted, “I’m so close on murdering you, you pigheaded douchebag.”

“Please, Y/N, kill me now,” he replied mockingly, “I’d rather die than have to go through this shit with you.”

“That’s it, I need a fucking break,” you said as you stood up and aggressively grabbed your phone, “I’ll be back in- you know what? Why bother?” 

He rolled his eyes. “Good Lord... Sure, take all the time you need,” he muttered while watching you storm out, “it’s not like we have a deadline or something.”

 You left without saying a word and gave him a middle finger before you angrily slammed the door. You were like a ticking time bomb – one more word from him and you would explode. You needed a moment to cool down after an extremely stressful time. You were aware that this was going to be hard, but not this hard. You have never met someone as infuriating as Christian, he really got on your nerves – and since you and Christian had pivotal roles in your best friends’ wedding, you had no choice but stuck with him.

Usually, when you were this upset, you would call Claire to vent. She’s a really good listener, and you always feel comfortable talking about everything to her. But right now, you couldn’t do it because you didn’t want to stress her out. She picked you as her Person of Honor and you’ve accepted every responsibility that comes with the role – you really couldn’t let her down. She didn’t need to know this struggle of yours just yet. 

After walking around the neighborhood for some time, you finally felt ready to go back on planning the engagement party with Christian. But shortly before, you tried to prepare yourself by closing your eyes, took three deep breaths, then whispered to yourself: Claire, I’m gonna do my best for you.

 “Oh look who’s back!” As soon as you opened the front door, you heard him shout. “You have wasted, uh...” he checked his watch, “20 minutes of planning time. We could literally use those 20 minutes to decide on foods, you know.”

You pressed your lips together and shook your head, trying not to snap at him. 

“My house, my rules,” you responded calmly. “20 minutes is not even that long, anyway. You’ve been here for like, what, probably 5 hours now? And still, no decision has been made.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Our fault, you dumbass. I mean, you could’ve written down some ideas in those 20 minutes, yet you did nothing.”

He narrowed his eyes, displeased by your answer. “Gah, fine,” he groaned, “let’s get back to business.”

“Oh, and by the way, when you were out doing whatever I got bored and went through your refrigerator,” he added. “Thanks for the ice cream and the berries, they were so good.”

“Wha- Christian!” You slapped his arm, “I just bought them this morning! I expect you to reimburse those!”

After countless arguments and disagreements, you two finally came up with a solid plan. It was such a long, hard day for both of you, but at least you were able to compromise and make big decisions together. After all, this celebration was not about you – it was about Nick and Claire.

---

It was the day of the engagement party. Since 9 AM you and Christian had gone back and forth to check out the venue and make sure everything went as planned. You were nervous about this entire party, especially because you didn’t get to tell Nick and Claire since they asked you to keep the details as a surprise.

The party went great and smoothly, you were glad you didn’t have anything to worry about anymore. Everyone seemed to be having the time of their lives and the couple was very pleased with how this party turned out – from the theme and decorations, the venue, the foods and drinks, and everything else. 

“Hey, Y/N,” as Christian pulled you aside, “looks like we nailed it.”

You smiled while glancing around the room. “Yeah, we really did, didn’t we?”

“Sorry I snapped at you the other day,” he apologized, “I was just really stressed out back then.”

You nodded, “yeah, I’m sorry too. I swear we’re just too different! But at least we worked well together for tonight.”

There was a moment of silence between you and Christian until Nick and Claire came and greeted you both.

“Great job you guys! This is a lot better than I expected!” Claire couldn’t stop gushing over the party.

“Thank you so much, Y/N, Christian. You threw an amazing party together! I can see how great of a team you both are,” Nick said, he was beaming the entire time.

You and Christian silently shared a look at one another, you both were very proud of how well you put this beautiful celebration despite your differences – strong differences. He then gave you a nod and a wink, and you jokingly gagged in response. 

Deep down, you agreed with Nick – you really were a great team. Who would’ve thought you could get along? 

“I mean… Between the two of us, I’m the one with more brain cells, so…”

And… there it is. Yes, that one sentence reminded you how Christian was still irritating - just not as bad as before. At this point, you still didn’t know Christian very well, but you knew that the moment you and him getting along was temporary. Despite that, however your feeling towards him might be, you still had to cooperate with him until the wedding is over.

---

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @masonspulisic @swimmingismywholelife @chelseagirl98 @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @mortirolo @masonsrem @cinderellawithashoe @alwaysclassyeagle

[miracles-and-butterflies]

For @dandylion94, based on the prompt: “Mirabel’s birthday is coming, and Luisa is determined to make her the perfect birthday cake to make up for all of the birthdays that were forgotten.”

Absolutely love this idea. I hope you enjoy it. Apologies for this taking so long.

Comments are always appreciated.

~~~~~~

What Baking Can Do

It was the 23rd February: a week or so before Mirabel’s birthday.

Not that anyone would know. Mirabel certainly hadn’t mentioned it or added it to the family calendar or even hinted towards any possible gift ideas. A habit she had had since her fifth birthday, and kept after Casita’s rebuild.

She had celebrated one birthday since then. Her sixteenth. Although, it had really been more of a welcome home/return party for Bruno, than anything in honour of Mirabel. In fact, she spent the entire day sewing in her room.

Maybe that’s why, at some point during the early hours of the morning, Dolores was loudly awoken by Luisa deciding:

“I’m baking today. I need you to go shopping for ingredients first thing.”

Casita had barely opened its front doors before Dolores slumped heavily against the wall.

With a yawn, she let her fingers uncurl from the bags holding the collection of ingredients she had purchased from Luisa’s very extensive and poorly written list. The tiles of the house moved quickly, gently catching the bags, gliding them swiftly to the kitchen, as Dolores sleepily followed.

“Where have you been, sis?”

When she looked up, rubbing her eyes, she found Camilo poking his head over the bannister. Shouldn’t he be at school by now?

“Something smells good. Did you go shopping? Did you get anything for me?”

Ah, yes. How could she have forgotten?

She vaguely remembered hearing Camilo’s coughing fits, followed by a long speech to their parents of a sleepless night, while she had been arguing with some townsperson with overpriced eggs. Honestly, if Señor Tobias thinks anyone is going to pay that much for an egg—

She raised an eyebrow at her brother. “I thought you were ‘completely bedridden’ because Tía Julieta hadn’t had time to heal you before she left for work this morning?”

“Yeah, I am,” Camilo nodded. “But something smells good and I wanna know what. What you got there?”

“Nothing you can have because you’re sick.”

“Are they ingredients for lunch? I’m starving.”

“No, they’re ingredients for Luisa.”

“Luisa?” Camilo exclaimed. “What’s Luisa cooking for?”

With another yawn, she pulled Casita’s front doors closed. Shutting out the sunlight gave some relief to her tired eyes, a relief she would rather enjoy in peace. Not that Camilo took the hint.

“It’s our primita’s birthday in a few days,” she answered.

“Huh? I thought the nerd’s birthday was yesterday,” said Camilo. “Wait, we’re actually celebrating that this year?”

Unimpressed and too exhausted to argue, Dolores simply carried on to the kitchen.

She found Luisa preparing the equipment and still flicking through several of her mother’s cooking books. Not that she could blame Luisa for that, Mirabel was difficult to make or buy things for: as she always would pick something to please someone else. And it’s not like there was previous birthday parties to take example menus from.

“You still haven’t picked anything?” Dolores guessed.

“Wrong,” Luisa announced, tossing another recipe book back to its shelf. Said shelf was now messy and unorganised, in a way that Julieta and Mirabel would collapse over when they got home. “I have limited it down. A bit. I know she doesn’t like lemon, coconut, raisins and sultanas—”

“You just made me buy several bags of raisins.” Dolores complained bitterly.

Even Casita clattered its tiles in annoyance, as the one who was now putting away the ingredients.

Her cousin flashed a guilty grin. “Sorry. I offered the few we had to her before school, after you had gone. Got a very confident ‘no’ before she backtracked.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have sent me off at the crack of dawn,” Dolores mumbled under her breath. “If she really doesn’t mind, then couldn’t you just bake anything?”

“No! It has to be perfect. We haven’t celebrated her birthday in years, so she’s getting a cake that she will enjoy. And by starting now, I will have perfected the recipe by her birthday.”

Having no argument, the older woman just sighed again. “Fine. Let’s actually decide on a recipe, otherwise you’ll never be finished before school ends. Do you remember what Tía Julieta made for her fifth? Because all of that is an instant no.”

“So no torta de leche then. Might be biased, but I have a good feeling about torta María Luisa. That must be named after a historical figure - she’d be all over that.”

“It’s a safe choice taste-wise. And the history is very Mirabel. Do that then.”

“Or you could make something she’ll actually enjoy eating,” a third voice piped from the doorway.

The pair turned to where Isabela had sauntered in from the doorway. She didn’t say anything more as she began nosying over the various recipe books, flicking the odd page here or there, before stopping and shoving a book towards them with a triumphant grin.

“Torta de manzana?” Dolores read, with an eyebrow raised. “We haven’t had that in years, not since… must have been my gift ceremony. I’m surprised you remembered that.”

Isabela gave a light shrug. “I didn’t. It’s just the first thing I saw that had lots of cinnamon in. Mirabel likes cinnamon.”

“She does?” Dolores inquired.

“She does.” The nature lover affirmed.

“Oh yeah, when Mama makes each of us our specialised focaccia bread, Mirabel’s is always just cinnamon-sugar,” Luisa recalled. She gently smacked her head. “Why didn’t I think of that? Thanks, Bela.”

“Right, well, seeing as you’ve now got a recipe, Isa and I will leave you to it,” Dolores waved, as she guided Isabela back to the door.

Luisa looked blank. “You two aren’t helping?”

Now was Dolores’ turn to look blank, even Isabela looked a little stunned.

“No. You’re a nightmare to be in a kitchen with. You angry-bake.” Dolores said.

“I don’t angry-bake.”

“Wait, so you really want us to help?” She asked, gesturing towards herself and Isabela, the latter in particular. “And you aren’t going to be a nightmare about it?”

“Of course. I could really use your help,” Luisa nodded. “This cake needs to be perfect and we’ve got to be done and tidy everything before school ends. Besides, it’ll get done a lot faster if we work together.”

Looking back, that was the point Dolores should’ve dragged herself and Isabela to the other side of Encanto.

~~~~~~

The trio had a small, simple process going. Dolores would read out the recipe, Isabela would prepare the ingredients and Luisa doing pretty much everything else.

The first part, the apples, which Dolores had envisioned being the more problematic part as Isabela would have a knife, had actually gone by rather successfully. They weren’t perfect slices by any means but the only grumble from Luisa was when Isabela added extra cinnamon to the mix. The anger was soon cooled by the explanation of “Mirabel will like it better.”

“Okay, now we need 1/2 cups of sugar,” Dolores said.

Isabela nodded, scooping the cup into the bag of sugar and dropping it straight into the mixing bowl. Looking a little proud of herself for not spilling as much over the side this time, something she had done for many of the previous ingredients.

“What’s next—”

“What the hell was that?”

The pair turned to Luisa, stood on Isabela’s other side, who was looking down her nose at the bowl.

“The sugar going in the bowl?” Isabela said.

“You just dumped it in.” Luisa responded.

“I put it in the bowl. There’s no official way of putting something in a bowl,” Isabela dismissed.

Luisa blinked. “Take it out and do it again.”

“It’s not going to make a difference. It’s all going to be mixed together anyways.”

“Well then it’s going to taste like shit. And when the rest of our family tries your shit cake and realise it’s shit and they disown you—”

“It’s just sugar, Luisa,” Dolores interrupted. “We can’t take it out of the eggs now anyways, you’re going to have to deal with it.” Luisa went to say something, but Dolores continued, “Why don’t Isa and I switch places for a bit? That way you two can stop arguing.”

Luisa didn’t have a compliant, though Isabela looked offended at being demoted to only reading out the steps. The two swapped and Dolores turned expectantly to Isabela.

“We need 5 tbsp of melted butter,” she announced. “What is a tbsp?”

“A table spoon, you fucking idiot.”

“Luisa, it was a fair question. In fact, go stand in the corner for a minute and calm down,” Dolores said in irate, as she avoided the increasing urge to not toss the butter at her younger cousin. “Is that everything, Isa?”

Isabela nodded. “Yep. For now, anyways. Just needs to be mixed.”

“Okay, you can do that. I’ll clean this up.”

As Dolores went off to find some cleaning supplies, Isabela began mixing.

And mixing. And mixing. And mixing. And mix— why did anyone do this? This was boring as fuck.

It was mixed by now, right? The recipe said something about crumbs next.

Isabela looked unsurely about her.

She glanced over to where Luisa was stood in the corner, who had decided to busy herself by fixing the recipe book shelf a bit.

“It says to add in the crumbs once it’s all mixed, and it is, but I don’t see any crumbs here,” she said. “Luisa? Can you get the crumbs for me?”

“Um, are you giving me orders?” Luisa coughed.

Knowing that it wouldn’t end well if she agreed, Isabela begrudgingly had to to deny that claim. Through gritted teeth, she only just managed to slowly answer, “No, I’m asking for… your… eh, help.. in the kitchen.”

“Then ask properly.”

“Can you… please help…. me with this cake, Luisa?”

“Call me ‘chef’.”

Isabela kicked a cabinet in frustration, only for Casita to smack it right back into her. She winced, and then realising she didn’t really have a choice, gave in.

“Fine. Can you help me with this cake, Chef?”

Finally satisfied, Luisa walked over, setting down a small bowl of cake crumbs - when did she make that? Isabela wasn’t sure, she didn’t really care enough to ask either.

“You’re pouring it at an angle,” Luisa complained, as she glared at Isabela whilst she added in the crumbs.

“That’s how pouring works.” Isabela said in disbelief.

“Its too big an angle. You need to do it at a smaller angle. Or else it will be too lumpy and everyone will choke eating it.”

Again, wanting to avoid an argument, Isabela had to give into Luisa’s ridiculous demands. Isabela tipped the bowl less, rolling her eyes at the fact pouring was now going to take infinitely longer this way.

“What the hell are you doing?” Luisa snapped. “Now it’s not angled enough.”

Isabela tipped the bowl ever so slightly forward.

Luisa slammed her hand against the counter, causing Isabela to drop the bowl in its entirety. “Listen, Isabela, if you want to kill our sister, just use one of your poisonous plants, instead of ruining my cake and kitchen in the process!”

“What?” Isabela was struggling to process. “What are you talking about?”

“You are so fucking shit at cooking you are going to murder a child!”

“I’m pouring cake crumbs into a bowl, Luisa!”

“It’s ‘chef’ to you! And you’re doing it fucking wrong! Cook properly or get the fuck out of my kitchen!”

“Seriously, I can’t believe you think you don’t angry cook. You are completely insane to be in a kitchen with with! I’m leaving.”

“Fine, quit. I don’t care. Just so you know, it was your selfish and lazy ass that couldn't be bothered helping doing one nice thing for my sister! Your only skill and quality is being pretty and the eldest, the latter you aren’t even good at! Camilo is more mature than you are! This is why nobody in this family loves you! I feel sorry for whoever has to share a family with such a bitch-ass motherfucker you are!”

“Bitch, we are fucking related!”

“And it’s why Mama and Papa should have tossed you over the mountains the second you were born!”

“Oh my god, Luisa, what the hell is wrong with you?” Dolores demanded. Having dematerialised and separating the pair before anything violent could happen.

Luisa growled. “It’s ‘chef’! Neither of you are fit to be in my kitchen! Get out!”

Dolores muttered under her breath, but nevertheless did start walking toward the door. Isabela let her cousin guide her out. She was angry herself, and admittedly a little hurt by how brutal Luisa had been, but also found the situation humorous.

Especially as Luisa threw a bag of flour at the wall above them, when they clearly hadn’t left quick enough for Luisa’s liking, which instantly burst and covered everything in the powder.

“Get out of my fucking kitchen! You two will never cook a fucking thing for anyone again!”

~~~~~~

“Isabela! Quit hogging the bathroom, I also need to get the flour out of my hair.” Dolores said as she knocked on the bathroom door for what felt like the millionth time.

It had been almost an hour since the pair were kicked out of the kitchen.

Most of which Isabela had spent in the bathroom. While Dolores had been left outside, unable to do anything without spreading the flour around Casita and having to endure Luisa still screaming in the kitchen.

As if on cue, there was another roar from the kitchen. “COOK!” Luisa screamed, smacking a palm against the stove. “WHY DOES IT TAKE SO LONG?! IT’S NOT EVEN THAT DIFFICULT, COOK! JUST FUCKING COOK!”

The listener sagged against the door and sighed. She had such a headache.

She did consider dragging Mirabel out of school in the hopes that she might get Luisa to calm down. But, she knew her younger cousin would be stubborn and refuse to abandon her studies for a kitchen argument.

Finally, probably another hour later, the bathroom door opened.

“What were you doing in there? It doesn’t take that long to wash your…” Dolores paused, she eyed her older cousin skeptically. Then softened, “Isabela, were you crying?”

“Of course not. I couldn’t care less what she has to say about me.”

“It’s okay, if you do feel upset about it.”

“Well, I don’t! Have your shower, Dolores.”

Dolores hesitated for a moment. And as much as she wanted to clean her hair and let the running water drown out Luisa and relax herself first, she pulled Isabela into a hug.

“You aren’t only a pretty face, Isabela—”

“Obviously, I’m gorgeous all over,” Isabela scoffed. “You think that’s what I was upset about? Pft, no. I’m talented as all hell. I’m upset because she still seems to think I’m some monster, who would hurt Mirabel given the chance. She doesn’t act that way for anyone else. Just me. Why? What did I do to her?”

“It’s more what you did to Mirabel than Luisa.”

“I know! But I wasn’t the only one who treated her like shit! You don’t see Luisa threatening Abuela.”

“Part of it is just Luisa being angry, you know what she’s like in the kitchen.” Dolores explained, looking up at Isabela. “And you know Luisa has always been protective over your sister.” She sighed, taking a step back, but Isabela kept hugging. “I know it’s hard for you, but you’ll prove her wrong one day. You do love a challenge.”

There was a mumble of agreement.

Just as they separated and Dolores was going to get her moment of peace, there was a thunder of footsteps.

Recognising who the footsteps belonged to, Dolores turned back around and was ready to disregard whatever the young woman was about to say. Maybe even drag her for her actions.

But Luisa was fully calmed down, smiling. She was carrying two mugs of caffe con leche and one black tea. As if nothing had happened between the trio.

“The cake’s done!” She sang, beaming. “It’s cooling on top of the stove - we can try some in a bit to see if the recipe can be fixed. Thanks for all your help. I made these for you.” She offered the respective mugs to their owners.

Dolores and Isabela looked baffled.

“The fuck?” Isabela muttered. Though she did take her coffee, she did sniff for any traces of poison.

“Do you have anything to say, Luisa?” Dolores demanded, raising an eyebrow.

“About what?”

“About you being completely out of control in the kitchen?”

Luisa looked baffled. “Are you still on about the angry baking thing? I still don’t know what you’re talking about. Sure, I’m passionate, but I wouldn’t say angry.”

Dolores raised her eyebrow even higher. As did Isabela. Under both their gazes, Luisa did seem to falter a bit.

The three of them were all very confident and struggled to swallow their pride in situations, so making one another give in was always difficult. Usually Luisa, not only as the youngest, but also wasn’t as close to either Dolores or Isabela as they were to each other.

“Okay. Even if I still don’t think I was,” Luisa said, earning a harder glare from them both. “I am sorry if I said and/or did anything to make you feel bad. Thank you for trying to put up with me and do this for Mirabel.”

Dolores tutted. “Good, but if you think we are cooking with you again, you are sorely mistaken.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

Luisa handed Dolores her tea before heading into her own room, with a promise to cool down further before they met up again to try the cake.

Tea would be the cherry on top of the cake now that she fully had the bathroom to herself. She might even take a long bath, possibly use those new bath salts Mariano had gotten for her recently. If she didn’t, she could easily imagine someone else using them all.

Isabela began heading off to her room, and just as Dolores’ hand enclosed the bathroom door, she heard another set of footsteps come barrelling right by her and into her cousin’s back.

“Hey, Camilo! I haven’t seen you all day—” Isabela started. She was interrupted by Camilo jumping behind her. “Are you okay, primito? You’re looking a little sweaty. Really sweaty and red. Wait, I thought you were just pretending to be sick to avoid that history test, are you really not well?”

“Shush! Please, Isabela! You have to hide me!” He whined.

“Why?”

Camilo sighed, “I was hungry, okay? I hadn’t eaten anything all day! So I went down to the kitchen for a snack. But I couldn’t go in the kitchen until Luisa calmed down. Finally, she did and went to grab a cup of coffee for herself after taking the cake from the stove, so I went in.” He swallowed, glancing around. “And, well, I ate the cake Luisa had made. The entire thing. Fresh from the stove. There’s nothing left.”

Dolores groaned in frustration and sagged against the door. Looks like she wouldn’t be relaxing today.

[longeyelashedtragedy]

tbh did not send the Lamps chara ask (shy) however I was seriously considering and someone beat me to it. if you feel like it and have time/energy after the others pending then I would massively enjoy expanded Redders thoughts. and/or JT if you like vintage Chels beyond Frank. ik that the skipper (derogatory) corrupted Grealo but he no doubt sunk claws into Frank first

i can definitely do redders for ya! JT i don't know too much about. i know he has some controversies, but that ain't my business lol. i appreciate how he made franko feel and i'm intersted in how the 2 of them have taken different paths both about how they act toward each other and how they talk about roman abramovich post-ukraine war 😂 (would love to hear more about how he corrupted grealo.) BUT. jamie i've got a lot more to say about.

i feel like if you read jamie's odd autobiography and then think of him through that lens, he's a real diamond in the rough of a fascinating footballer. he seems kinda brainless and vapid but i think some of that is because he has too much going on in his brain to use it for that sort of thought. i don't even mean that as a diss. that's a real thing!!! but let's see...

favorite thing about them: well, he certainly seems unpretentious and easy to talk to, which i like. has some good taste in music, is still close to his parents, always takes franko's side and defends him 😂

so, this next part seems like a weird thing to list as a "favorite," as i'm sad he suffers or has suffered in this way, but out of all the things i've read about mental health, both fiction and non-fiction, jamie's book described some of my specific childhood/teenage Horrors so well it was like i wrote it and i was so surprised that he went through all that and admitted it so unselfconsciously. that combination of talented kid with an idyllic life (this was me, albeit in other ways than jamie lol) who lives in this private world of pure fear. some of the things he mentions, like having to paint his room cheerful yellow to ward off Bad Thoughts and Scary things, and being so afraid when he saw the exorcist as a teenager that he slept with the lights on and couldn't get the movie out of his head for weeks--the isolating strength of these kinds of fears is sooooo fuckin real man. he also describes needing to watch the same movie every day for comfort when he got home from school where he got bullied and teased for being a little different, and his attachments to his toys that he'd have to do little rituals with every day to help him feel Calm, and how he took them to school to try to make friends and kids stole them :( he also describes his older self as having something Dark inside him, like when his close friends would become occupied with a girlfriend, he'd kind of freak out and try to get in the way, because he was afraid of losing their support.

his book also describes very sinister perceptions of the external world too, a lot of kind of scary or just ominous scenarios drift through the book (a creep that tried to grab him in the park, the scary, dark corridors under dean court stadium when his Daddy was in charge of bournemouth--i related to that too--, rumors of some weird creep working at tottenham when they wanted to sign young him?)

i apologize if this is repetitive to anyone reading but i had some very particular Problems as a kid and i've just never seen some of them articulated the way jamie articulates them. and i just found all this so...fascinating. i think it explains a lot about his adult self and provides such a contrast between him and brainy franko (see headcanons section!)

least favorite thing about them: he cut his hair and has a beard! i'm predictable--if a footballer had long hair and now doesn't, this will be my response. otherwise, what's there really to dislike? he's kind of inoffensive imho

favorite line: uh a few

"Frank Lampard has a vision for seeing things." (i-hope he actually said that for real)

from his book:

and, for the "franko was too old when he was young" headcanons:

oookay then, anyway:

brotp: idk, who does he hang out with? i like his interactions with the guys on ALOTO even though his main feature is clearly to be the punching bag. maybe with stevie g? with Daddy-Uncle Harry? lmao

notp: his new wife. at first they didn't look as miserable together as he and poor Louise always did, but he just posted a video from their maldives vacation today, and woof--she looks miserable. well, i'm not here for blonde scandinavian models and i think jamie is too childish to do well in a Grownup Married Relationship. again, kind of like with franko, i don't mean childish like... "spoiled entitled manbrat" or "hasn't lost joie de vivre"--more like. is trapped as kid because of his own mind. i think if a therapist saw only jamie and franko as clients, and no one else, they'd be set for life

otp: well...there can be only one. i'd love for jamie & franko to give romeo + juliet their happy ending 😭 they are weirdly...made for each other. and hey--according to the internet it's legal! 🫡👮🏼

random headcanon: so many! lampardverse is sort of all about Jamie in a sense, and i think as a child Jamie so very much appreciated the solid steady presence of his younger cousin. franko's psychological issues are of a very different nature lol, plus we know he's a master of repression (can relate) and we imagine that he'd help jamie with his homework and read him chapters of the narnia book, and eat the food jamie refused to eat.

another one is that jamie is super dependent on his Well-Known Dad. they do a lot of stuff together and idk on ALOTO one of the main purposes seems to get jamie overwhelmed and stressed--because he gets like that very easily--so it feels like Uncle Harry's presence is just. very necessary for him.

fascin8ing! YMMV.

unpopular opinion: i don't think i have one? are there popular or unpopular opinions on jamie redknapp? hahaha

a song i associate with them: hmmm, not really any? i do have him singing shimmy shimmy ya by ODB at franko in "red red red" lol. but i don't really count that 😂

favorite picture of them: let's do a few!

gay af behaviors (affectionate)

whump tendencies

bougie gay cou-- (cousins? couple? choose your own adventure)

THANKS for coming along on this wild ride!

[marshallpupfan]

First Marshall Merch. Update of 2024!

Using some of my recent Christmas money, I bought a few things I happened to spot on Amazon. Speaking of merchandise, did you know the new Jungle Pups toys are already available in the United Kingdom? Not so here in the United States yet, of course. They sure do like making us wait sometimes! 😅

First off, this "Squish Plush" from GUND. It's an interesting one, that's for sure. I've known about these for some time, and although I've seen some in stores based on other franchise, I've yet to see any of PAW Patrol. Fortunately, they're sold on Amazon, and it only took a few days to arrive, too!

I need a better name than just "Squish Plush". How about... Egg Marshall? Or "Eggshall Plush"! That kind of works. lol

Next, this "Take Along Buddy" plush, also from GUND. You know, they always make some fine plush dolls, and I'd say both of these dolls are no exception!

To be honest, I didn't think they were going to make one of Marshall at first. You see, while browsing Twitter/X one day, I'd seen an advertisement about one of these, but they only showed Chase. A friend did some research after that, but the only listings she could find were of Chase, Skye and Rubble. I thought they decided to pass up Marshall this time, which was certainly a bummer... but then, about a week ago, I seen some for sale on Ebay, and much to my surprise, they had Marshall! And... well, of course I couldn't resist getting one!

However... for the price ($20), it's smaller than I expected.

And that's it for now! Well... kind of. Something I forgot to mention on my last merchandise update is that, outside of the items I showed off, I received a few other things, too. You see, the bad thing about owning such a large collection of Marshall merchandise is that, when my family tries to buy me things for Christmas or my Birthday, they're often not aware of what I already own... so they take a guess and hope what they found is something I don't own.

(Sorry about the brightness...)

Case in point, these two items my brother bought me. I'm certainly grateful, and I appreciate the thought.

It's just too bad I already own both of them. Well, maybe I can find a spot for them somewhere... maybe around the house, so it's not just my room that contains Marshall merch. lol

My aunt also tried buying me some Marshall items, too.

Such as this Mighty Movie Marshall plush. This is actually one of the first products I bought of The Mighty Movie, back before the film was even in theaters. I'm not sure what to do with this extra one though.

She also bought me one other item. She said it was "cube" shaped, which confused me at first. I figured she found the same thing my brother had just gifted me, and I wasn't sure what I was going to do with a third one.

Instead, it was...

...um. Well, I didn't expect that. I think she saw the red hat and assumed it was Marshall. Again, it's the thought that counts!

Actually, in terms of Rubble & Crew characters, Charger is my favorite of the bunch. In that sense, she technically DID pick out my favorite, just... the wrong cartoon. lol

And that's all for now! For real this time. I'm hoping that, at some point this month, we'll finally get those Jungle Pups toys! Come on, Spin Master, don't make me book a plane over to the UK. Seriously, don't make me do that; they have a bunch of exclusive merchandise that can't be found in the United States, and given how I can't resist buying merch of Marshall, I'd go bankrupt within an hour. lol

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling For the Devil [Part eighty-six: "The Moving Day"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: The day you move in with Matt has finally arrived!

Or Some strange, nervous feeling eats at you all day and then keeps you up that night.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 4.8k

a/n: Somehow light angst crept into this installment when I was writing it and it took me a few days to figure out why Reader was acting so strange on me and Matt, BUT I figured it out and left it in for some Sweet Matty at the end. Y'all know I love the shit out of him. So technically this is a light bit of angst with comfort at the end? Either way, I hope you enjoy Reader FINALY MOVING IN WITH MATT! Y'all that have been reading this series since back in February have been waiting months in real time just for this day to finally come!! Now it's finally here! And as always, feedback is always appreciated!

Tag List: @ninacotte @mattkinsella @stilldreaming666 @murdocksclient @madscamp02 @1988-fiend @lina-mar @pinkratts @schneeflocky @acharliecoxedfan @yarrystyleeza @theetherealbloom @danzer8705 @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle

The movers had already finished bringing all of your things up into Matt’s apartment–or rather, both of yours’ apartment as you’d often had to keep reminding yourself today–about twenty minutes ago. You knew Matt, Foggy, and Karen would be showing up from their half day at the office any minute, which was why you'd begun unpacking in the bedroom first. You didn’t particularly need your friends helping you put away your underwear and some of the other, more personal items which you had packed in your bedroom boxes. Though you certainly had a feeling Marci would only be all too happy to snoop when she showed up later after work.

Fortunately it hadn’t taken you long to put away your more private items before you’d moved on to hanging up more of your clothing in the left hand side of the closet where Matt had long ago made space for your things. On the far right neatly hung all of his suits with their braille tags on each of the hangers. Seeing more of your things hanging next to his still had you feeling inexplicably giddy, but ever since you’d left your apartment for the last time this morning and come to Matt’s, something else that you couldn’t quite place had slowly begun to take root in your mind. 

This whole situation felt surreal to you. You’d spent a long time wanting to be with Matt during your friendship after you had first met him. Through all of that time you never thought you would be good enough for him, never remotely the kind of woman who could possibly catch Matthew Murdock's attention. Not after you had seen all of the women he usually had been hit on by and those you’d seen him flirt with in return. And especially not with how charismatic, intelligent, and successful he was. You were just the awkward journalist that he’d always said made any situation highly amusing and uncomfortable in a matter of seconds. Yet here you were, hanging your skirts next to his dress slacks in the same closet. Your toothbrush sat next to his on the bathroom counter. And soon your coffee mugs and dishware would be mixed in along with his on the shelves in the kitchen. 

Because you were finally moving in with him. 

The full reality of the situation hadn’t completely hit you yet. Though you had a feeling it would later tonight, after all your friends had left and it was just you and Matt here afterwards, when all of your things were fully blended with his. Despite the excitement you felt at moving in with Matt, and with what that might mean for your relationship moving forward, there had been a nagging feeling in the back of your mind slowly growing louder as the day wore on. You knew you were going to be freaking out once the giddiness wore off and the reality settled in, but you’d tried to keep that pushed to the side as you unpacked. You didn’t have time to try to unpack that right now, too.

As you finished hanging one of your skirts on a hanger, you overheard the sound of the apartment door unlocking before it swung open. It was mere seconds before you heard Matt’s voice through the apartment.

“Sweetheart?” he called out.

Chewing your lip, your heart nervously sped up in your chest at the sound of his voice. You hung up the skirt you’d had in your hand in the closet before you turned and made your way out of the bedroom. As you maneuvered around the boxes, you could hear the loud scoff Foggy made all the way across the apartment. 

“Matt!” he complained. “You were supposed to shout ‘honey, I’m home’ when you came in!”

“Foggy, I told you I wasn't doing that,” Matt replied.

A small grin settled on your face as you listened to the three of them taking their shoes off in the entryway hall. You did your best to navigate through the messy living room where there were boxes piled everywhere as you listened to them. 

“Don’t ruin this for me, Matt!” Foggy snapped. “This is a big day for me!”

“For you?” Karen said with a laugh. “You’re not the one moving in!”

“No, but do you know how long I hoped for this day for Matt?” Foggy countered. “ Especially after learning about what he does in his free time outside of work? I never thought he’d find someone and settle down. I was afraid he’d be alone forever!”

“Thanks, Fog,” Matt said flatly.

Skirting around another stack of boxes, you heard Matt calling out your name. You laughed lightly as you overheard Karen and Foggy continuing the conversation Matt clearly wasn’t remotely interested in.

“I’m here, Matty,” you called back. “Just trying to make my way through the mess that has become your place.”

“Our place,” he immediately corrected.

“Right, yeah,” you agreed quickly. “That might take me a bit to get used to.”

You came to a stop beside the leather couch when Matt came into view at the end of the entryway hall. Grinning wide at the sight of him standing there smiling in your direction, you felt your cheeks heat. 

For some reason you felt unnecessarily nervous. You hadn’t seen Matt since yesterday morning, and because you’d spent most of this past week packing, you’d been unable to spend much time with him. You hadn’t seen him nearly as much this week as you often did, so now the sight of him was suddenly shaking loose all sorts of dormant butterflies in your stomach. Once again you were awkwardly gnawing on your bottom lip, unsure how to properly greet him in the moment–and then that was only making you further nervous.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Matt said, sliding his glasses off of his face.

Matt’s eyes lowered to your chest, a small smile playing across his lips. No doubt he was noticing the way your heart was nervously beating at the moment. You knew he always loved the way it reacted to him, but you also knew he was unaware of exactly why you were nervous this time. Granted, you weren’t entirely sure what was with your nerves, either, today.

“Hey, Matty,” you greeted back softly.

You continued to worry your bottom lip between your teeth, your hands fidgeting in front of yourself as you took in the sight of him. His suit coat was draped over one of his arms, leaving him in just his light blue dress shirt, the sleeves of which were rolled up already. He looked good–like he always did–just standing there smiling at you with so much warmth and love on his face.

“For fuck’s sake– kiss her already!” Foggy shouted.

“Foggy,” Karen sharply reprimanded him.

Your cheeks only flamed further as Matt’s smile widened. Wordlessly he crossed the room, easily stepping around a box as he made his way towards you. Breath catching in your throat, you watched as he tossed his suit coat onto the back of his couch in a fluid motion before he was standing before you. Without pause his hands reached up and cradled your face in both of his palms, tilting your mouth up towards his before he dove in for a sweet, lingering kiss. When he pulled back away, smiling down at you with that absolutely breathtaking smile of his, you were left stunned and speechless.

“It was lonely here without you this week,” he whispered.

You swore your heart skipped a beat in your chest. “Well I’m–I’m here now, Matty,” you murmured.

“Great!” Foggy exclaimed, clapping his hands loudly together and causing Matt and you to jump apart. “Now let’s get started unpacking so we can get to the pizza and beer part of the day!”

______

Changing out of the jeans and tee-shirt you’d been wearing all day, you gradually got ready for bed in the bedroom. Down the hall, you could hear Matt brushing his teeth in the bathroom. You both were worn out from the excitement of the day, and you were just ready for sleep already. Between overseeing the movers, unpacking all of your things into Matt’s space, and socializing with your friends, you felt exhausted. And for some unexplainable reason there was still something that just felt off with you. There was still some nervous energy you could feel lingering inside of you that you couldn’t quite place. It had only grown stronger ever since your friends had left and Matt and you had straightened up the apartment a bit before bed.

It made no sense why you felt this way, either. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t stayed the night at Matt’s apartment countless times over the past few months now. You’d spent many nights brushing your teeth and changing your clothes getting ready for bed here, plugging your phone into the very same charger on the nightstand by your side of the bed at least a hundred times now. You knew Matt wanted you here–hell, he’d told you that at least ten times today already.

So why were you feeling that nervous, queasy feeling in your stomach? Why was the prospect of staying here tonight–and every night from here on out–giving you butterflies of a different kind all of the sudden? Why was there that nagging little voice in the back of your head still growing louder and louder despite your inability to decipher its meaning? It didn’t make sense.

“You alright?” 

Startling at Matt’s voice, you spun on the spot and found him standing in the doorway of the bedroom. His brows were drawn together on his forehead as he eyed you curiously. 

“Yeah,” you said with a nod, turning and grabbing the pair of cotton sleep shorts you had laid out on the side of the bed. “I’m just tired. It was a long day.”

“You want me to get the light for you?” he asked.

“Sure, thanks,” you replied.

As you pulled your shorts up your legs, you noticed how Matt hesitated in the doorway, just silently focused on you. It wasn’t until you grabbed your shirt from the bed next that Matt finally turned off the light before you heard him gradually making his way through the bedroom and over towards his side of the bed. 

You knew he’d already undressed before brushing his teeth, currently wearing nothing but his usual black boxers as he pulled the sheets back on his side of the bed. Normally that would elicit a reaction from your body, because knowing he was almost naked and you were about to be in bed with him, even when you were too tired for sex, made you feel something . Because he looked like one of those Greek gods chiseled from marble under his clothes and your body always unconsciously reacted to him. But tonight all you felt was that ball of nerves sitting in the pit of your stomach. It didn’t help that you figured he was probably picking up on something being off with you, too. 

Drawing the sheets back, you climbed into the bed beside Matt. Nervously you rolled onto your side to face him, soon feeling his warm hands landing on your hips over the fabric of your clothes. Grabbing you tenderly, Matt pulled you in towards his body and until you were resting with your head on his chest. He gradually settled underneath you, one arm wrapped under your waist while the other draped over the top of it. Timidly your own hand reached out as you lightly slid it across his toned, warm chest. 

“Mmm, finally,” Matt contentedly hummed out. “I spent all week missing falling asleep with you, but now I’ll always have you here with me.”

For some reason his words only caused the nerves to twist in your stomach just a bit more. You hummed out an affirmative noise in response, unable to trust your voice as you smiled softly in the dark. Internally you were trying to understand what the hell was going on with you. You’d been so excited this morning at the prospect of finally moving in with him. Excited that this move meant Matt and you were so much closer to bigger things in your relationship–like a possible engagement. 

So what the hell was with this strange, nervous feeling?

You startled when you felt Matt’s fingers gently brushing some of your hair from your face, having been too deep in your thoughts to have noticed he’d moved. You knew he’d caught that little surprised jump instantly when his fingers paused along your temple.

"Are you sure you're alright, sweetheart?" Matt asked carefully. "You've seemed unusually nervous today. Your body still seems a bit tense."

“I uhm,” you began, your index finger lightly tracing a pattern along Matt’s bare chest, “I’m just a little nervous. You know me.”

You laughed briefly, trying to make light of the situation so he would drop it. You knew how excited Matt was for you to finally be here and how long he’d been waiting for this moment. And it certainly wasn’t like you hadn’t felt the same, but you didn’t want to ruin your first night here with these weird nerves you couldn’t begin to explain. Knowing Matt, he’d feel bad and think he’d done something wrong, or that your anxious feeling was somehow because you didn’t want this or him–which was not the case. You’d never been more sure of anyone before. You knew you loved Matt.

“Okay,” he said slowly, his fingers sliding down from where they’d lingered along your temple to lovingly stroke your cheek. “But if you want to talk, you know I’m always here. You can tell me anything, sweetheart.”

You forced the smile onto your face again as you gazed up at him from your place along his chest, the rough pads of his fingers still tracing your cheekbone gently. He was so good to you and that only made you feel worse about hiding something from him, no matter how stupid it seemed. 

“I’m just tired,” you told him. “It was a long day dealing with everything with the move. I’m sure I’ll be my normal, slightly less nervous self in the morning.”

“I’ll love you however you are in the morning,” he murmured, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “Because I love you .”

A more genuine smile slipped onto your lips, your eyes closing. “I love you, too, Matty,” you whispered back.

Silence settled in the bedroom as you felt Matt’s body relax beneath you. No doubt he was exhausted from having worked late last night, helping you unpack your things today, and then trying to relearn where some things now were in the space that had been just his for so long. You knew he’d had a long day, too.

With your eyes closed, you tried to let yourself relax and drift off to sleep. You did your best to focus on the usual faint sounds of the city a few floors below the apartment in conjunction with the steady breaths you could just barely hear coming from Matt. Despite how toned and firm Matt’s body was, you’d always found lying with your head on his chest far more comfortable than using a pillow. You weren’t sure if it was really because Matt was that comfortable or if you just loved that level of closeness and intimacy with him, though for some reason tonight you were finding yourself unable to just fall asleep. 

Without a clock, you weren’t sure how long you’d laid there awake, curled up alongside Matt trying and failing to sleep. Though it had to have been awhile because you’d long since noticed Matt had fallen asleep, the steady and rhythmic rise and fall of his chest easily cluing you in. Yet still you just couldn’t shake that nervous feeling swirling uncomfortably inside of you. The longer you tried to force sleep to come, the more awake you steadily felt yourself becoming. 

Eyes flying back open, you laid there for a moment in the dark as they tried to adjust to the near blackness in the bedroom. Gradually your head rose and fell along with each of Matt’s even breaths, but you only found yourself growing more restless next to his peaceful form. Lifting your head slowly from him, you very carefully tried to disentangle yourself from the hold he had on you without waking him. Which truthfully was a near impossible feat to accomplish– except for when he’d recently fallen into a deep sleep. Like right now.

Moving slowly, you slid towards the edge of the bed, carefully pulling the sheets from yourself  before you climbed off of the mattress. A chill ran through you at the loss of Matt’s body heat, the cold air of the apartment in comparison drawing goosebumps along your bare arms. You pulled the sheets back up on the bed and turned, quietly making your way towards the bedroom door. Cautiously you slid it open, not fully closing it all the way behind yourself afterwards before you turned and focused on the space before you. 

Now that you were out of bed, you weren’t entirely sure what to do. As you stood there trying to figure it out, your arms wrapping around your chest, you watched the light from the billboard just outside the large windows wash the space in a glow of blues and greens. After a moment you figured you could get yourself a glass of water and that might help you relax.

Making your way through the living room towards the kitchen, you came to a stop just in front of the shelf filled with cups. Both your glass cups and Matt’s were perfectly lined up side by side. On the shelf beside it, your plates and bowls were stacked neatly on top of the few that Matt already had. For a minute you just found yourself staring at them, realizing how full Matt’s normally sparse shelves looked. Glancing back over your shoulder, you spotted your television stand now situated across from Matt’s leather couch, your television sitting on top of it. The two armchairs that had always been opposite the coffee table were both now to the left of the couch, still giving Matt plenty of room to navigate from the entry hall to the living room, and from the living room to the stairs that led to the roof access. It looked different though, despite the familiar light from the billboard swathing the furniture in a myriad of colors. 

As you stood there staring at the furniture, that nauseating, nervous feeling finally fully uncoiled inside of yourself. You suddenly understood what had been gnawing at you all day. 

It felt almost familiar here. It wasn’t quite Matt’s place that you’d grown accustomed to over the year the two of you had been together, but at the same time it still was the apartment you’d spent so much time at. But it just felt different. It certainly wasn’t your apartment and it wasn’t exactly his, either. It was something else entirely. And that was what had been nagging at you all day–the unfamiliarity of this space.

For some reason the longer you stared at the television and everything that looked different and changed, the more you felt the increasing sting of tears in your eyes. Why you were suddenly getting emotional was beyond you, though. Reaching up, you wiped a hand at your eyes, trying to force the tears back. Somehow that only had them watering more.

And that was precisely when you heard the bedroom door slide open all the way and you jumped in the kitchen at the sound. Your focus shifted from the television to Matt standing at the edge of the bedroom, clad in only his dark boxers. There was a small frown on his face as he focused on you, his head slightly tilted to the side.

“Sweetheart?” he called out. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

You nodded immediately, trying to smile despite the tears still welling up. “Yeah, Matty, I’m fine,” you answered.

His shoulders dropped at your words and you wondered if that had registered as a lie to his ears. Matt immediately began shuffling his way towards you through the living room, his bare feet gently padding along the floor as he moved. You saw his brows faintly pull together and noticed the frown was still on his face as he made his way towards you. His focus never left you as he maneuvered around the rearranged space, though. 

“Are you crying?” he asked softly, entering the kitchen.

“No, I–”

You stopped at the same time Matt came to stand just in front of you. A look of concern was etched on his face as he reached a hand up, his fingers gently grabbing onto your chin and tilting your face up towards him. His eyes worriedly scanned around your face, searching for answers as he quietly said your name.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I–I just–” you broke off, shaking your head as he still held your chin. “It just feels…different here. Not the same,” you finally admitted. 

“Is that what’s been bothering you all day today?” he asked.

Pressing your lips together, you nodded. Matt’s expression softened as he continued to gaze back at you, his thumb brushing along your chin.

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” he asked.

“Because I didn’t want to upset you. And I didn’t know what I was feeling,” you confessed. “Not until I couldn’t sleep and I came out here and saw your furniture all rearranged and a television in your living room. And–”  you waved a hand at the shelves beside you, “– actual dishware on your kitchen shelves. And there’s a fruit bowl with actual fruit on your counter. I mean there’s–there’s actually food in the fridge here, not just beer and eggs,” you continued on, the words tumbling out of you. “All of my clothes are in your closet or your dresser now. There’s tampons in your bathroom, Matt!” you exclaimed, the little amused chuckle he made barely registering in your ears as the words continued to nervously spill out of you. “I have dirty clothes in your laundry bin and my skincare products in your medicine cabinet and a vibrator in the nighstand–”

“What’s that now?” Matt asked, quick to cut you off as his brows rose, a cheeky little smile pulling at his lips. “What’s in the nightstand?”

You shot Matt a pointed look, one hand lightly swatting at his bare chest. The cheeky smile grew into a grin as he released your chin, both of his hands landing on your hips as he took a step closer towards you, closing the bit of space there had been.

“It feels different to me, too,” Matt admitted. “Things aren’t where I’m used to them being. And your scent is vastly stronger now with all of your things here. Not to mention there’s now a light buzz from the television–”

“I’m sorry,” you immediately blurted.

He continued to grin, shaking his head. “Don’t apologize, I can tune it out. I don’t expect you to never relax and watch your shows again, sweetheart. Or to not keep tampons in the bathroom or food in the fridge. But do you know why it feels different?” he asked you.

“Because all of my shit is here cluttering up your space now?” you joked.

He silently shook his head, suddenly walking you backwards and guiding you with the hands he had on your hips. Your brows drew together as he led you a handful of steps back until you eventually bumped into the counter behind you. Before you knew what was happening, Matt’s hands had lifted you up and set you on the countertop behind you, that smile on his face never wavering as the billboard washed him in red. His hands slid your bare knees apart as he slotted himself between your legs, your faces almost eye level now as he focused along your mouth.

“Because it isn’t my place and it isn’t your place,” he whispered. “It’s our place. And it might feel a little different,” he continued, his hands making their way to behind your back as he clasped them together, his eyes still focused on you. “And maybe it’s a little overwhelming right now, too.” 

He leaned forward, lowering his face to press a kiss to your shoulder. Your eyelids dropped closed, a small smile playing along your lips at the sweet gesture. Arms raising up, you encircled them around Matt’s neck and held him to you.

“But this place is what we make it now,” he finished softly. “You and me. Because it’s ours . Like I’ve been saying all this time.”

Eyelids fluttering open, you saw Matt’s face was mere inches from yours now. A tender expression was etched along his features as he stared back at you, slowly lowering his forehead to yours. Leaning in towards him, you connected your mouth to his for a kiss that was full of emotion. His mouth moved so gentle and slow against yours, the feel of him reassuring and calming. You could feel all of your nerves slowly dissipating and leaving your body the longer he kissed you. Relaxing even further into him, your arms tightened around his neck as he deepened the kiss. 

The two of you stayed like that in the kitchen for a few minutes, entirely lost in the moment, before Matt gradually broke away. His nose lightly bumped against yours, a smile tugging his lips upwards. Biting your own lip, you couldn’t fight back the smile that was slowly spreading across your mouth in return.

“You know, I told you I bought mint ice cream in the event you needed some comfort tonight,” he reminded you. 

You rolled your eyes. “Matt, it’s late,” you pointed out. Removing your forehead from his, you glanced at the time on the oven behind him. “It’s almost three in the morning.”

“So?” he asked.

He unwound his arms from around your waist, in turn causing you to remove your arms from around his neck. He took a couple of steps to the right, opening the silverware drawer and pulling out two spoons. As he closed the drawer he glanced up at you, a small smirk pulling at his lips as he raised a dark brow at you. He held out one of the spoons.

“You want some?” he asked. “Or are you going to make me eat toothpaste flavored ice cream at almost three in the morning all by myself?”

Warmth flooded your chest as you stared back at Matt standing there, a spoon in each hand. The simple fact that he’d gotten you your favorite dessert–the one you’d told him about way back on your first date–to hopefully help you feel comfortable here only filled you with so much love and gratitude for him. Reaching out, you accepted the spoon from his outstretched hand, your heart hammering loudly in your ears. The smirk grew on Matt’s face before he turned, about to make his way to the freezer to grab the ice cream. Without a single thought, you leaned forward and reached out, latching onto his arm before he had taken two steps. Matt stopped in his tracks, glancing curiously over his shoulder at you with furrowed brows. 

Quickly you tugged him to your place on the countertop, Matt willingly allowing you to pull him back towards you. Without hesitation your hand reached up and grabbed his stubbled cheek, drawing him close before your lips abruptly crashed back onto his. Clearly taken by surprise, it took Matt a brief second before his mouth responded to yours. The moment his lips began to react, you could feel him easily matching the intensity and enthusiasm that you were displaying. You did your best to pour everything you felt for him into that kiss, hoping he understood exactly what you were trying to say in that moment. 

When you finally pulled away from him, breathless and with swollen lips, you smiled back at Matt’s grinning face. Just to make sure he fully understood the message, you held his face firmly in your hand, your eyes locked on his when you spoke.

“I love you, Matthew Michael Murdock,” you told him. “And I want you to know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

His smile widened into something bright, lighting up his entire face along with the red light from the billboard across the street. You could see the glisten of unshed tears in his eyes as he gazed back at you with so much affection written plain across his face. There was only the briefest of moments after your declaration before Matt abruptly closed the distance between you both again, capturing your lips with his in a passionate kiss that had you forgetting about absolutely everything except you and Matt in that very moment.

[queengiuliettafirstlady]

Spectacle  of Love

Spectacle  of Love

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Pairing: Kennyo x MC

Part of Summer Days Sultry Nights Content Creator Challenge hosted by @violettduchess and @aquagirl1978

Prompt: 11. Fireflies

Tag: Established relationship Party Improvised Dance Surprise spectacle Kisses Fluff

Word Count  2.234

Author’s Note: A party at the castle offer two lovebirds the perfect occasion to spend some time together, dancing in the garden under the moonlight before wandering through the forest to a spectacle worthy to be admired as they basked in each other company, their hearts closer than ever as they enjoyed the view foretasting a blissful night to spend bathing in Love. 🥰

Tag list

@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @lordsisterxotome  @aquagirl1978 @violettduchess @natimiles @nightghoul381 @dragon-liquorice @candied-boys

You can find me on AO3 as QueenJuliet 😊

Thank you for everyone who will like, reblog, or comment please be gentle with me english is not my first language so please do not leave rude comments I apologise for eventual errors I hope you will like it 😊

It was the evening of the feast, a lavish banquet was held to celebrate … she did not even know what, but somehow anyone gathered in the hall of Kasugayama castle appreciated the idea, music could be heard from a distance as the men inside drank the night away, loud chers and metallic clangor of katana and swords could be heard from time to time, making her chuckle softly certainly Kenshin would have never learnt the art of quietness and a side of her was happy that way, after all it would have been so boring otherwise, and judging by the overly mirthful voice of Shingen he too would have not stopped pestering his friend either, she turned to get a peek at it in time to see Yukimura making a flee from the door away from his boss followed closely by Yoshimoto, her giggles resonated in the still air of the night carried over by the frizzy breeze along the suffused melody of the nocturnal animals.

She was sat on the patio looking over at the moon, letting the chill air of the night refresh her mind, smiling at herself at the sight of someone sitting next to her, his musky and woody scent she would have recognized among thousand invading her nostrils making her heart leap up at the sound of his deep husky voice, ever able to make her sigh dreamily 

“I was looking for you.” a shy smile danced on her lips as she tuned to look at him, the warm light of the lanterns reflected in his chocolate eyes crinkled with affection 

“Sorry for the bother.”

“Please don't even mention it, however I think you may need some.”

“You are wonderful, you know ?” she took the glass of water he offered her gulping it down, before looking gratefully at him

“Thank you. The meals were delicious but it seems the cook has not paid for the salt he used.” a throaty chuckle slipped past his lips she gazed at him fondly, giggling softly feeling her heart melt by the sheer idea she was able to make him happy as he made her, desiring nothing more than to shower him in the love he deserved of, as he so generously did to her, grateful for that feelings that linked their hearts together against all odds.

The frizzy air of the evening getting colder by the minute, but she did not felt anything of it warmed up by the shawl he so generously leaned over her shoulder, his scent invading her nostrils making her dizzy noticing he had stood up only when he offered her his hands, she promptly took raising to her feet ready to follow him inside, when a playful idea flickered in her mind, she took both his hands in hers, she smiled at the thought she really had him wrapped around her fingers seeing his eagerness to follow her movements as she begin to spin around the garden, feeling him doing his best to follow her lead before switching up the roles, she eagerly gave up to lost in the admiration of his handsome features gawking in awe at the smoldering passion glimmering in his eyes, such shade of dark brown chocolate like piping hot cocoa in winter keeping her warm whenever he set his gaze on her, making her happy wherever they went, showing his love with both words and actions enough to melt her heart at the deep affection he held for her.

They were dancing under the moonlight, bathing them in its light looking at that peculiar show of love along the curious stars peeking from their castles in the sky, immersed in their own world deaf and dumb to the outside as they waltzed around the grass, before coming to a stop, their eyes locked together caught amidst the blaze of a burning passion impossible to tame he melted his lips on hers, her fingers gripping the front of his kimono to stead herself from his passionate kiss she so eagerly reciprocated, moaning at the sensation of his tongue leading her in a slow sweet dance of their own, unaware of the amber gaze of his friend looking at them with a knowing smile on his lips, chuckling softly before slipping inside once more, reluctantly he pulled away only when breathless leaning his forehead to hers, his hot breath fanning over her lips at his heartfelt confession she did not shied away to reciprocate.

“I love you more than anything in the world my angel .”

“I love you too, my tanuki, more than I can say.”

His eyes speaking of promises and secrets as he took her hand in his, leaving a soft kiss on her knuckles

“Come with me.” this words alone had her hooked to follow him everywhere, curious to know more about his surprise but even simply delighted at the thought of spending some time alone with him, she squeezed lightly his hand revelling in the warmth of his fingers entwined with hers

“There is something I want to show you.” he did not needed to add anything else to convince her but he did, desiring to egg her on her own curiosity, his kindness melted her heart she did her best to sync her movements with his, smiling at herself noticing how he had slowed down his own to match hers. 

They dived in the forest surrounding the castle for a bit, it was dark all around only the moon showing them the way but she was not afraid, she had full trust in him and she knew that he would protected her anywhere, plus she couldn't help but ignore all her doubts pushed to follow him further into the vegetation by curiosity alone, his presence alone made her feel safe despite their surrounding, she managed only to caught glimpse of through their walk.

They arrived in an empty field, alike the others they had walked through, when suddenly he turned to her, a bright smile curling his lips lightning up his gruff handsome features as he looked down at her, his onyx eyes crinkled with affection he encouraged her to get closer to him an invite she had no intention to refuse, huddled in his arms with his shawl covering her shoulder she felt safe and happy to simply bask in the moment with him, away from the noisy feast.

Foretelling her impatience he wrapped his arm tighter around her hips as they sit side by side on the soft grass, murmuring

“Be patient my love.” a sheepish smile curled on her lips, it was embarrassing and yet the thought he was so in tune and thoughtful of her make her heart swell with love, she shifted closer to him smiling at the tender expression glimmering in his moonless eyes as he caressed the flowers all around him, before picking one that had fallen from the stem bringing it to lips, brushing his lips on it before leaning over her, she was so taken aback by his sudden gestures and mesmerised by the love lighting his features she was pulled away from her awe only by his husky deep voice

“It looks even more beautiful on you.” gently she touched next to her ear, where she had felt his fingers brush on her curls, a smile brighter than thousand sun curled on her lips as she looked up at him managing to murmur 

“Thank you, so much.” an heart melting smile curled his lips as he leaned over to brush his lips on her forehead

“Thank you for staying.” a sweet kiss suggelling their love, making her forget all about the reason that brought them there, basking in the happiness of being together.

Reluctantly he pulled away, carefully wrapping his shawl tighter around her shoulder as the breeze grew frizzier by the minute, murmuring softly in her ear

“Look around you.” she promptly obeyed, taking in the wonderful sight before her eyes, 

“It is wonderful.” she looked at him, blushing softly at his answer, compliments that never failed to fill her heart with affection for him

“Indeed.” the gentle frizzy breeze treasuring his words as he looked at her, she turned around smiling at him taking his hand in hers, admiring fireflies lighting the path around them, the grain field lightened by the moonlight as they stayed there looking at that spectacle, flowers blooming all around them, their colors brightened by the visit of the fireflies buzzing here and there in search of a lover to share a precious night with, travelling far and wide only for love, it was such a dreamy naive thought and yet she could not help but sigh softly thinking of it, smiling to herself at the warmth of his hand engulfing her entwining their fingers together, heat rising to her cheeks at the intimacy of his touch, she meet his gaze briefly enough to see a light blush veiling on his cheeks.

She smiled as one landed on her hand she promptly raised to show him, admiring the gentleness of his calloused fingers on her skin as the little bug slide on his, mesmerized by the light reflecting in his soft gaze admiring the little firefly travel on his bigger hand before fling away a tender smile curling his lips as he gazed off in the distance almost as to follow it

“I thought you may have liked it.” his voice husky and low, only sound to break the still air of the night, 

“You know me so well it is not fair.” she giggled hiding her blush in her sleeves, squeezing softly his hand in hers, her eyes locked with his as he cupped her face in his hand

“Please do not cover yourself from me my angel I want to see all of you.” an heart melting smile curled her lips she raised her hand brushing her fingers on his cheeks revelling in the tender smile curling his usually stern lips, their eyes glimmering with all the love they felt for one another, she did her best to convey standing on her tiptoes  to plant a soft kiss on his cheek

“Thank you for the wonderful spectacle my tanuki.” her soft nicknames melting his heart he wrapped his arms around her bringing her closer to his chest, cupping her face with one hand melting his lips on her forehead, revelling in her tingling giggle filling his heart with happiness he did not know to be worthy of.

Gently she kissed his scar before brushing her lips on his nose, affection swelling in his chocolate eyes as he looked at her, leaning closer to brush a feather light kiss on the tip of her nose before sliding down to melt his lips on her in a sweet soft kiss they wanted to last forever, conveying all the deep love hold in their heart only for one another, her fingers gripping his kimono to steady herself from his passion, moaning at the feeling of his tongue waltzing with hers, reluctantly pulling away only when breathless, he leaned his forehead to hers brushing his fingers on her cheeks looking straight into her colorful eyes he would have recognized among thousand, reflecting her unstoppable curiosity 

“I love you more than anyone in the whole world.” a smile so bright to put the sun itself to shame danced on her lips, warming his heart with the warmth of thousand suns 

“I love you so much, words are not enough to say.” he hugged her closer to his chest leaving a reverent kiss full of devotion on her soft curls basking in her soft giggles, melting at the soft brushing of her lips over his heart, making it burst and swell with all the deep sealed feeling he held only for her, doing his best to keep his composure when he heard her sensual murmur in his ear, a glimpse of passion flickering in her eyes as she looked straight into his deep onyx eyes, smiling at the soft caress of her fingers on his cheek trailing softly on his lips

“Please my tanuki do not hold anything back with me. I want you as you are.”

her words brushing away the little self control he had, reassuring him the desire of deepening their intimacy was mutual, far from his mind was left her dissatisfied and so not wasting a second he took her in his arms, revelling in the amazed expression glimmer in her eyes as she giggled happily al the way back home, bashfully hiding her face in his neck as they entered in the castle, not meeting anyone, not even servants, things that lead them to believe Shingen had them retire early to give them enough privacy, request he was exempted from following as he looked at them from the patio in front of his room smiling at the curious sight of her laughing all the way held in his arms while a bright smile curled his usually stern lips and gruff features, his heart bursting with happiness for them both as resumed his moon watching with a malicious smirk dancing on his lips  as he saw them slip inside their room, ready for the continuation of a magical night in which they would have not shied away from showing off their love to one another with all themselves until dawn.

[whiskeynwriting]

Birds of a Feather - Chapter One: Disinterested

Nico x Female Reader

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Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: mentions of hair, some tiny bits of flirting, not too much to look out for just yet (;

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A/N: This has been months in the making, and from the bottom of mine and @phnyx 's heart (yes we share the same heart), we hope you love it.

I want to remind you all that this mini series was created for my third follower celebration! I truly love and appreciate you all, and I hope you enjoy this piece &lt;3

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Birds of a Feather Masterlist

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“Tape twenty-three, May twenty-eighth. It’s uh… about eight ‘o five am. We have an interesting day today. A class, with my most impressive students might I add. Angela, quite gifted with the cello, her voice, as well. Jude, talented on the piano – very much so.”

He glances around the room, toying with his own fingers as he paces slowly.

“And a new collection to my shelf… Ode To a Nightingale.”

He takes a breath, swallows.

“Was it a vision, or a waking dream?” he ponders aloud, repeating the sonnet newest in his collection. “Fled is that music:–Do I wake or sleep?”

With this, he thinks; he’s curious.

“Do I wake… or sleep?” Nico looks down with a laugh, a nod. “I’ve pondered it, I have.”

An alarm, short but shrill, only two sounds. It gives him pause, captures his attention. It comes from his wrist.

“However,” Comes a short, exasperated sigh. “There are more pressing things to ponder. A maid, a housekeeper, a… planner? The woman, she’s coming today. Arriving at…”

A quick glance at his watch reminds him.

“Two in the afternoon, yes. We’re feeling… apathetic, almost. Slightly bothered – what grown man needs another to plan? My life is my own, though business is quite a frequent occurrence.”

Though he’d never admit it, Nico didn’t take kindly to accepting help, of any sort. He did things on his own and at his own pace. He ate when he wanted, worked when he wanted, slept and was creative when he wanted. Freedom, an important quality to one’s own life, and his is certainly no exception. Fluidity, flexibility, these were things Nico took kindly to. It made life interesting, happy, calming – in his mind. These qualities gave him the ability to be himself and on his own timeline, his own schedule. Though they lacked any sense of routine, they gave him the reassurance of one. 

“We need a list, a set order of chores she is to perform. Yes…” He wonders, having completely forgotten about this. Maybe this extra person in his home would be of some help, after all. Fleeting thoughts often come and go. “Duties… also a meeting. Six pm this afternoon. Perhaps a planner will do well for me.”

In his own ramblings he now finds himself interested to meet you. He’s hoping you’ll be helpful. He doesn’t need a child wandering about. If you are to be here, it better be to enhance his life, not hinder it. 

Frowning, he considers that last note. 

“To return.” He then says. “End tape.”

Colors of orange and red, the occasional yellow passing by through the glass. A slight breeze blurring them all together, creating a small whirlwind of warm tones shuffling through the air. You hum to yourself; it’s pretty, calming. It does well to relax your inner state, to subdue your worrying mind. But no matter, your fingertips still press into the ends of the cotton sweatshirt that has crept up to your palms, feet still fidgeting on the black-carpeted floorboard. Will this experience be a good one? 

Books in your briefcase give you the false impression of preparedness, clothes packed in your bags offering an air of sophistication you’re sure you do not have. Even now, the makeup on your face, it allows you to appear in a much more mature state than you feel you currently are. But this is all for the better, you think. This will give you a leg up, land you a good first impression.

As unlikely as it may be for you, it is quite the opportunity, your very first opportunity to leave home. And as a young adult, this is in line for you. It’s about time you were out on your own, experiencing the world. A professional job suits you at this point in your life. And what better way to start off than here? An occupation that will (hopefully) help propel your future career. 

He’s a musician, and quite a talented one, at that. It intimidates you slightly but you’re sure you will learn much from him. Though, it appears he has much to learn from you, too. His organization and attention to detail are, for lack of better wording… scant. There is much more he’ll need from you, too. You’re not aware of every key detail, but you’re sure he’ll explain more to you when you get there. The title itself is that of a personal assistant, the general descriptions being similar to that of a housekeeper, a planner, a caretaker. One thing you know for sure, is that you’re to be extremely involved. There won’t be a single area within his home that you won’t know about. You’ll be everywhere, in his bedrooms and bathrooms, both the living and great rooms, his music room, the kitchen, the back patio and garage, his office, his closets… everywhere. And in these spaces, you’ll be cleaning. His clothes will need washing and folding, of course, his meals scheduled but not made – he has a chef for that. You won’t do any outdoor tasks, either, but you will clean up the back patio after he entertains or has a simple, personal day. Each and every intimate detail of his life will be made known to you, well, most of them, anyway. Both his personal and business schedules will be available to you for organization and task completion. This is of the utmost importance to you. 

Once the taxi rolls to a stop, you’re gently nudged out of your thoughts. Looking up, you’re met with the outer appearance of a contemporary-styled house. With mid-century modern touches here and there, it immediately draws your intrigue. It’s beautiful, but different, very different from the houses you're used to seeing.

“Thank you.” Kindly, you smile at your driver while grabbing the last of your bags.

“No problem.” He nods with a friendly grin, bidding you a good day before you shut the last door to the cab.

And now, you’re left alone. It’s up to you to muster the courage to go and meet him.

Inhaling a steady breath, you turn, bags in hand as you take your first steps toward the finer home’s front door. While making your way up the path, your thoughts run circles in your head over this man. He’s mysterious to you; you know very little about him. You’re aware that he is a music composer, once a university professor that is now teaching his most talented students at home. He trains them for schools like Juilliard, a school he in fact went to himself. One you’d like to attend, too.

You’re wondering, will he be nice? Pleasant, at least? Or will he be stern, maybe bossy? You’ll have access to his most private things, the details of his entire life; how does he feel about that? Is this arrangement more of a necessity than a genuine want? It was an agent that reached out, after all; not him directly. 

But you push your worried thoughts aside. Just be kind, be pleasant, and be helpful. It’s a small mantra you live by. Do your best, and you’ll be fine.

The first thing he does when he opens the door is give you a once-over. It surprises you, but you stand there for him, nonetheless. He’s on the phone, too, which you also weren’t expecting. When he makes his way back up to your eyes, he offers you a jovial smile, extending his hand with the warm, simple greeting of hello, as he ducks the phone down onto his chest.

“Welcome,” He adds on with a short nod, shaking your hand once it’s in his palm.

“Thank you.” Comes your pleasant response, mirroring his grin and nod. 

He’s handsome, his hair a little shaggy but his smile is cute and friendly. And even though he seems busy, he allows you inside shortly after your brief meeting. Before moving through the threshold, though, he leans down, grabbing one of your bags and then turning to enter his own home. This again, surprises you. He hadn’t asked if you needed help, he just took it upon himself to do so. It is an exceptionally kind gesture, but not one he necessarily acknowledges. He just takes your bag and… turns. Swiftly walking in the other direction. 

The first impression you get is casual. Very casual. 

While walking in behind him, carrying your backpack and one more duffle bag, you take in his home. Almost immediately, you see a bright red blur move off to your left. Naturally, you jump, sighing out a breath of relief when your eyes finally zero in on a beautiful, fully grown Macaw. He’s sitting inside a cage. A very empty, very bland cage. 

“Don’t mind him,” The man suddenly says, phone now down in both hands. He’s smirking, chuckling. “He can’t get out of there.”

All you do is smile and nod, breathing out a small laugh. Your eyes briefly float back over to the bird before returning to this man, finally getting a good look at him. He glances down at his phone again, pressing a few buttons – likely messaging someone. He’s dressed in a black turtleneck, dark gray, almost blue dress pants, secured with a black belt at his hips. On his feet, black dress shoes, shiny and smooth, and slightly pointy, too.

“So,” He breathes out, shoving his phone into his pocket. He clasps his hands together, gesturing them towards you. “It is nice to finally meet you. I hope you feel welcome in my home.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, um…” You pause. “What should, what would you like me to call you?”

He clears his throat quietly, brushing aside his annoyance at your brief stumbling.

“Sir,” He gives you a firm nod. “That would be appropriate.”

Something about him gives off the air of extreme confidence while not being too cocky, not yet at least. He seems friendly enough, as well. Maybe he’s always like this, or maybe you just caught him on a good day.

“Okay,” You return, smiling kindly. “Thank you, sir, for hiring me.”

He chokes down his grimace, your words a reminder of the reason as to why you are here. “Of course,” He practically grits out, grinning through his teeth. “Shall I show you to your room?” He then asks, raising his brows while gesturing behind him toward the stairs. “Then perhaps, a tour of the house?” 

“That would be lovely.”

The stairs are made of a beautiful, light-colored wood. They are each separated, floating, if you will. You pass many rooms on the way to yours, eyeing each one though many of their doors are closed. Continuing to follow behind him, you end up on the left side of the hall. It’s one door shy of being the last room in the hallway. At the very end and to the right, sits a closed door. It looks like all the others, so why does it draw your attention so much? 

“That is my room.” Comes his sudden and stiff words. You must have been staring for a bit too long. 

Jolting slightly, you look up at him, met with a sort of reprimanding expression on his face. But then he motions forward, toward the room he’s led you to. “This is yours.”

You respond to his words with a shy and nervous smile, watching as he opens the door and walks in first. He clasps his hands once again, taking a deep sigh while turning around to face you as you walk in. He’s not looking at you though, those deep brown eyes roaming the room. 

“This space is yours,” He tells you loudly, almost theatrically. “Do with it what you will. I hope it is big enough for you, comfortable enough for you.”

Glancing around, your immediate thought is, this is more than enough for me. Though small, it’s bigger than the room you had at your parents’ house, and decorated in a much nicer fashion, too. There are two large windows in the back corner with a wooden desk sitting in front of them. Your bed sits ahead of you, held up on a dark wood frame. The foot of the bed faces the desk with the side of it backed up against the wall. The sheets are white with small, pink flowers on them, almost like they’d been chosen with you in mind. The thought makes you flush. But surely, they weren’t bought for you, how could they be? He’s never even met you before now. 

“This room is beautiful.” You breathe out, eyes wandering in awe.

A dresser sits in the corner closest to your right, a large, cast iron mirror resting on top. Two closet doors are posed right beside it on the same wall the main door is on, offering you an incredible amount of wardrobe space. Before your eyes can explore much more, your new boss speaks again.

“Yes,” Something of a smile on his face. “A relative of mine gave me the designs. Nothing too different than its original setup, though…”

He trails off, almost as if he was only talking to himself. And as he does so, he turns, his right hand landing on your bed and trailing slowly along the sheets. His hands are… big, noticeably so. But they seem soft. And suddenly, in the brief absence of his voice, you find yourself missing it. He has quite an interesting voice; one you already feel like you could listen to for hours on end. 

“For privacy, I have an ensuite for you here.” Turning, he addresses the door beside your desk, opening it and motioning for you to walk in.

With an excited grin, you stride over to him. And as you walk by, you get a small whiff of him, a scent that makes you tingle inside. It’s a warm, inviting smell, one with hints of vanilla alongside a woodsy undertone. 

The bathroom is small, the size proportionate to your relatively quaint bedroom. The floor is entirely covered in black, hexagonal tile, the walls pure white. To your immediate right sits a porcelain sink, the surrounding countertop made of white and gray marble, the cabinet holding the sink made of brown wood. There’s a small plant beside the sink’s handles, with a round mirror hanging on the wall above it all. Further in, just to the left of the cabinet, is the toilet, this being the only thing that separates the wash basin from the clear, glass shower. There’s no tub, which makes you sad, but you suppose you’ll have to make do. The tile on the ground inside the shower is black and hexagonal, too, but smaller than the tiles on the other side. It’s simple; maybe you can decorate soon. 

“This is lovely, sir. Thank you.” 

He’s smiling when you come out, more than happy with your response. He’d been holding his breath while waiting to hear your thoughts on the space. With not much knowledge concerning you, he considers this to be his very first opportunity to see what you like. You are, after all, a guest in his home. And to a certain level, that means he wants to appease you. 

With a hesitant, almost timid movement, he tilts his chin down. Strangely, this seems to end your conversation, because once he does it, he makes his way to your door. Without saying another word, he leaves, closing the door behind him. He does it respectfully, giving you the privacy you surely need to make yourself at home. Although, as soon as he’s gone, you feel suddenly vulnerable. While seemingly cozy, this is still a foreign space. His presence was a pleasant, almost reassuring thing. Already, you find yourself wanting to see more of him. 

You do your best; from the very first day, you’ve exceeded his expectations. Immediately, you cracked down on his schedule. As soon as he had an hour to spare, you sat him down and got to business. You learned the ins and outs of his day, what’s important to him and what’s not. It was nearly three in the morning by the time you finally went to bed on your second night, having stayed up to plan his itinerary out weeks in advance. He has to admit, at first, he thought you were just some clueless twenty-something year old, but you’re very clearly not. Honestly, he’s quite impressed. 

“Today you have your classes from eight to noon,” You tell him, laying out his papers and breakfast for the day. 

After a few days, you’ve begun to learn his tastes for certain things. An example being how he likes his morning eggs. Cooking was relatively easy for you, as long as nothing expert-level was expected. It also helped that the only meal you had to cook for him was breakfast. For lunch and dinner, he had a chef come in. 

“Then lunch, which is blocked off for an hour.” 

Your boss nods, scanning the itinerary you printed out for him today. He’s following along with you while taking sips of his coffee, not wanting to eat yet and possibly have the eggs ruin your perfectly-printed paper. 

So far, he’s the same every morning. Still in his robe, a dark green color to match his slightly eclectic kitchen. Usually, his sweatpants are a dark gray, and he’s wearing those house loafers you’d usually see your father in. His hair is slightly tousled, his beard scruffy and not yet brushed. He always smells good, though, that sweet scent with earthy tones. Your interactions with him, especially in the morning, have been pleasant. And the sight and smell of him make you grin. 

“Afterwards,” You continue, “A meeting with one of the head directors at a nearby university. They’re interviewing you for a position there.” 

Rolling his eyes, he tries not to sigh. He does so anyway.

“It would be good for you,” You turn, smiling at him. 

While wandering about the kitchen, cleaning up the mess you made and preparing your morning meal, you find yourself humming. It makes him perk up a bit, a small grin poking at the corners of his lips. What is it that she’s singing in her head, he wonders, listening to your soft tune. It ends early though, the song stopping abruptly when you turn around to set down your breakfast plate. Honestly, you need a moment to rest. You’ve been up since five in the morning, and it’s currently past seven. 

“I suppose it could be.” He eventually returns, swallowing. He gives you a thoughtful nod, glancing up as you sit across from him at the kitchen counter. Maybe the job would keep him busy. But he’s already busy. 

While you’re eating, he looks up at you. You don’t notice it, not at all, your focus now entirely on a new book you’d brought down with you. While gracefully piling your fork with food, dipping it into your mouth before going back for more, you read. He wonders what the book is about, it’s not one he’s read personally. All too quickly, though, he brings himself back to reality. A sudden dislike for you fills his bones. His pride feels tested. He, a grown man, needs the help of a young woman? Has he truly grown so elderly?

Abruptly, he stands, clearing his throat. His sudden movement makes you jump, swallowing as you look up at him. Reaching out, he grabs his plate, along with the papers you’d given him. 

“I’d like to eat in my study from now on.”

“Oh, okay.” It’s a quiet response; you feel like you’d just been stung. You’d been eating together for the past three days, why is he now feeling this way? “Have I… have I done something wrong?” 

Your boss shakes his head, looking down at his hands. 

“No, you’ve done nothing wrong.” Pressing his lips together, he pauses; thinking. “I’d just like my privacy.”

With that, he trots off, turning the corner and out of sight before you can say anything more. Once alone, you sigh. What did you do wrong? 

It feels childish, but you cry. This is your first real job outside of basic retail, and only three days in you’ve managed to piss off your boss. So far, you thought you’d built a nice rapport. He seemed happy around you, friendly, truly delighted to hear from you. You are here to better his life, after all. And yet here you are, already hindering it. 

Nico makes his way to the study quickly, setting down his plate and papers but choosing to remain standing. He releases a long, aggravated breath, closing his eyes and running a hand over his tired face. Why is he letting your presence affect him so much? He needs to realize that he hired you for a reason, that it’s not a bad thing to ask for help. After all, that’s what his past maids have done, that's what his cook does, why should he treat you any differently? 

Something you’ve learned about your boss’s schedule, is that any time devoted to music is his and his alone. He shouldn’t be interrupted when teaching, composing, or playing, which unfortunately took up a lot of his day. Unfortunately? Is it unfortunate? 

When he was busy with his work, you found this was the best time to clean. No one was in your way and you wouldn’t be in theirs. The cook left between meals, and by noon, the gardener usually came, which left the majority of the house to only yourself. And so far, to your knowledge, your boss has no complaints. Not any verbal ones, that is. You tidied up his space regularly and efficiently, putting things back in their place perfectly. And sometimes while you worked, you got to hear his music, too. And students he teaches, their music is nearly as nice as his; they’re all exceptionally talented. Occasionally, you’d see them come and go, but nothing more than that. You didn’t know their names or where they came from, and honestly, you didn’t have to. You don’t need to worry about anyone else but yourself. 

But sometimes, you weren’t alone when you worked. During small patches throughout the day, Nico would meander about while you cleaned. He stayed out of your way, remaining in the background and only occasionally glancing in your direction. 

“I like that one.” Was something he’d often say, giving you a soft smile when you picked out a record he favored. “I didn’t know you knew how to use that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is that okay? I love listening to music when I clean.”

“Of course,” He’d nod, watching your small smile mirror that on his own face. 

You kept these details in the back of your mind; if you both liked the same song, why not play it when he was around? Just a small tidbit to make him happy, to make him more comfortable in his own home. Really, to make him more comfortable around you. For some reason, the longer you lingered, the more awkward he became. Occasionally, you’ll work up the courage to ask if everything is alright, if anything you’ve done has made him uncomfortable at all. He always says no. 

It’s truly fascinating to him, the commonalities you have. He would’ve thought the things in his home would be boring to you, but he finds you scouring his layout curiously every chance you get. Taking a look at his collection of vases, eyeing the paintings on his walls, roaming through his personal book collections. You seem truly intrigued by the topics that most interest him. 

Surprisingly, he’d comment on your attire, too. If you wore a dress or skirt, or really anything new, he’d compliment you. Something subtle, along the lines of I like that pattern, or that fits nicely on you. You’ve come to know that his favorite color is blue; you have quite a bit of clothes with blue. What you didn’t know was that after he complimented you, he’d scold himself internally. Why would he say that to you? Surely it would make you uncomfortable if he continued making such remarks. He’s better than that, he has more control than that. 

“What would you like me to do for your bird?” You ask, catching him right before he walks into a lesson.

He’s wearing a suit now, a dark gray one with a black undershirt. His hair is done, so long and untamed but styled all the same. Hints of gray litter his trimmed beard, his skin appearing smooth underneath. He looks so professional like this. In all honesty, it really makes you see his age.

“What?”

“The bird. Does he need food or toys?” 

Turning your head, you glance over at him. He must get lonely… and quite bored. 

“A handler comes in twice a week for him - him and the tortoise. He should be here later today.”

“The… tortoise?” 

He gives a nod in the direction of his living room, the floor to ceiling windows displaying the greenery in his beautiful backyard. One of the large, decorative rocks you’ve seen back there, is now slowly moving. 

“Huh.” You say dumbly, peering at the large thing. 

“I have to go.” He then tells you, reaching out and squeezing your shoulder before walking into the room. 

The touch makes you widen your eyes, sending a jolt down your spine. It’s new to you, a kind gesture but one that makes your face feel flush. Maybe he is comfortable around you. This gives you such a great sense of relief. Truly, his presence made you feel calm, made the air feel sweet. All you want is for him to feel comfortable around you. 

Just on the other side of the door, his hand tingles from the act. He looks down, flexing his fingers. Why did that feel so weird to him? 

Your next few thoughts revolve around the trainer he mentioned. When will he arrive? How have I not seen him yet? What is he like? Will I have to work around him? Is he nice?

But your employer’s music pulls you out of your head. He’s playing the cello; it’s a hauntingly beautiful instrument, one that’s slow and steady and somehow provokes deep emotion within you. Gently, you press your ear to the door. What would it be like to be in there with him? To actually see him play? Would his hands work tedious and slow? Moving with the instrument with the ease of his own breaths? You wish you knew; maybe by the end of the summer you will. 

After he’s done with his first lesson of the day, he’ll be seated for lunch. Your morning duties made you rather sweaty, maybe you’ll change into something nicer for the rest of the day. Something blue. You have ribbons that you packed, too. At times, you tie them into your hair alongside ponytails and braids. You have some blue shades in there; you always looked nice with your hair done. Maybe he’ll like it, too. 

Upstairs, you give yourself a half-twirl in the mirror. You pulled out a white, long sleeve turtleneck, pairing it with a knee-length skirt. Your bottom piece of attire is navy with small, pearly flowers scattered throughout it. Lastly, you tied your hair into a ponytail, securing it with a baby blue bow. You had a pair of ivory socks that reached mid-calf as well. Altogether, you thought the outfit looked absolutely adorable on you, each piece paired nicely alongside the others. 

Even from your bedroom, you can hear the soft thrum of classical music as it plays just a floor away. It’s dreamy, the melody playing. And then, a small screech, the cello’s bow sliding jaggedly along the string. Your boss’s voice then comes into play, mumbled but low, slightly rough. He’s talking to his student but you can’t make out anything he’s saying. But he sounds nice. Disappointed, but not mean or rude. 

Suddenly, your head whips around, startled by the doorbell’s unexpected ring. Is someone supposed to be here? There’s already a student in lesson, there shouldn't be any more arriving until this one is done. But then you remember the handler. 

Scampering downstairs and landing at the front door, you smooth down your skirt before welcoming this person into your home. A home that, strangely enough, they’re more familiar with than you. When you open the entryway, you’re surprised by what you see. You expected a man around your boss’s age, maybe a bit younger, thirties, forties. But this man is, well, he looks to be the same age as you.

“Hi,” You breathe out, smiling away the surprised look on your face.

“Hi.” He returns, surprised as well though he still reaches out to shake your hand. “I’m Daniel.”

“Daniel, it’s nice to meet you.” After giving him your name and shaking his hand, you take a moment to assess his appearance. He’s carrying two duffle bags, and wearing what appears to be a zookeeper’s outfit.  “You’re the handler, right?”

“I am. Would it be alright if I came inside?” 

“Oh, yes!” Stepping aside, you breathe out a flustered laugh. “I’m sorry.” 

“No worries.” He shakes his head, stepping through the doorway. “Are you new here?”

Daniel hobbles through the home, allowing you to shut the door behind him. The weight of his bags clearly affects his stride, a heavy sigh falling past his lips once he finally sets them down.

“I am; just started this week.”

“Oh,” He walks up to the cage, smiling at the bright Macaw. “How do you like Nico?”

“Nico? Oh, um…”

“He didn’t tell you his name?” Daniel looks back, an amused expression on his face. For some strange reason, you feel embarrassed, a little shy. You shake your head. 

“Yeah, he didn’t tell me at first, either.” 

“Why?”

Daniel shrugs. “Who knows. I’m just here to take care of Fabian and Mateo.” 

“Those are their names?” 

Curiously, you step over to the cage, standing beside your new coworker. You’ve never owned a bird before, and you’re wondering what it’s like. 

“Can he talk?” You ask, watching Daniel reach into his bag. 

“He can.” Pulling out a bag of food, Daniel moves to refill his bowls. “But he doesn’t like to in front of strangers.”

“I’m not a stranger.” You reply jokingly, watching the Macaw turn to look at your face. 

“To him you are; he’s shy.” 

“I’ll see you then.” Nico says, prompting both of your heads to turn in his direction. He’s ushering his student out; is their lesson already over? 

“I can really see the work you’ve put in.” He says, complimenting her. He then reaches out, grabbing her shoulder like he did to you just before his lesson began. She smiles at his touch. “Keep that smile on your face.” 

Nico’s words make his grin grow wider, placing his hand on her back as he guides her through the hallway and to the front door. And once she’s gone, he turns to the two of you.

“Daniel,” He says, holding his hands behind his back as he approaches. “I see the two of you have met.”

As he walks over, Nico takes in your appearance. You’ve changed outfits, and quite dramatically, he might add. Earlier, you had on a pair of jeans and a simple, white t-shirt. And now this? It’s quite nice, actually, very feminine. It suits you. 

“Yeah,” You nod, looking over at your new friend. “He’s been teaching me about the animals.” 

“Really?” Nico responds, glancing down at the floor as he raises his brows. “I never knew you were interested in such things.” 

“I love them!”

You’re trying to play it off, but inside, you feel… funny. As naïve as it may sound, Nico’s small compliments made you feel a little special in his eyes; you assumed his kind words resembled his growing familiarity with you. But… he’s like that with everyone else, too?

“Here, do you want to hold him?” Daniel then asks, returning your attention to himself. 

“Sure!”

Daniel opens Fabian’s cage, gently offering his hand, which the bird takes. He steps onto his fingers, holding on as Daniel takes him out of his metal home. With his free hand, he then grabs your wrist, holding it up near his own. Nico watches this interaction with precision, noticing the hold Daniel has on your hand. And when the bird steps onto your fingers, your face absolutely lights up. 

“Oh my gosh,” Releasing a flustered laugh, your eyes widen a bit. “He’s so much bigger than I thought.” 

Fabian releases a small squawk, turning his head as he looks around. And while you’re busy with the bird, Nico now eyes its handler. Why has he taken such an interest in you? 

“Pretty cool, huh?” Daniel grins, watching your fascination grow. 

“I love it.” You wholeheartedly respond, feeling the slight weight of the parrot on your hand. His colors are even more vibrant up close. 

“Don’t let him distract you from your duties around the house, now.” Nico says, promptly ending your mini adventure. 

“Oh, right.” Feeling foolish, you turn back to Daniel, holding out your hand and ending your sentence with, “I’m sorry.”

“Maybe I can teach you more when you’re not too busy.” 

“I’d like that.” It’s said with a genuine smile, that grin changing as you turn to Nico, your expressions now harboring a nervous look. You try to mask it with a bashful smirk before walking off into the kitchen. 

After a few moments, Daniel returns to work, and Nico takes it upon himself to follow you into the other room. When he walks in, he does so quietly, and you don’t see him at first. He watches as you meander about, putting away dishes and wiping down the counters. 

Naturally, your mind wanders as you complete your chores. Strangely, you’re hurt. You felt somewhat special in his eyes, like your relationship was unique. But you’re not unique to him at all. You thought the two of you could be friendly while you worked here, but you guess your relationship will always remain professional. You figure, to avoid these sad feelings in the future, you decide to not let yourself get carried away the next time he says something. Just remind yourself that it’s normal. Just take the compliment and move on. You can do that, it can’t be that hard.

“I haven’t seen you in that skirt before.” Nico comments, his baritone voice making you jump. 

When you look up, he’s leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets as he seemingly admires you. 

“It’s beautiful.” 

All over again, your face heats up, and your lips curl timidly. Glancing down, your fingers slightly lifting the edges, you ask, “Oh, you think so?” 

“I do.” He affirms, now walking toward you. “The flowers are tiny, dainty. Really something to look at.” 

He comes closer, and when you look up, you see he’s staring at your lower half. At your skirt, not your lower half. Get it together. Only a few minutes ago you were telling yourself to keep your cool, and now you’re acting like this? Again?

But you can’t help it, something about him makes you feel special. You’re special to him, you just know it. You’re different. And even if he gives it to everyone else, you want his attention; it feels so good when you have it, like you’re finally doing something right in the world. Even if it’s just a comment on your cooking skills or the way you put the books on the shelf, every piece of praise he gives goes right to your head. How do you stop yourself from doing that? 

“Well, thank you.” 

Inside, your heart flutters in your chest. Inhaling a small yet deep breath, you blink slowly, trying to regain your composure. You talked such a big game when he wasn’t around just a few minutes before. 

On the other end, Nico’s thoughts are about you, too. He notices how much blue you’ve been wearing. Does she know it’s my favorite? She’s quite good at her job, she pays attention to so many little things. He hasn’t really had to adjust to you being here, at least, not externally. You’re easy to be around, like walking through a calm breeze. And you don’t get in the way of anything. Internally though, is a completely different story. He’s feeling… strange. What is spurring inside him? 

Chapter Two: Acquainted