#i had a day off yesterday and just clocked in today and immediately have to listen how we didn't see important tasks

[papercutsmp3]

god i hate working a two person job being someone who doesn't miss or forget a thing with my coworker who idgafing through her life bc the way it hurts my pride when i have to also bear the burden of her not doing the job properly

[goosita]

trying to work when you're sick as young!politician!snow's secretary would be hard, but not for the reason you might think

you've been sniffling since yesterday afternoon, but this morning when you woke up, you felt like you'd been hit by a train. every muscle in your body was sore, your throat hurt, your nose was running and you could tell you had at least a lowgrade fever. you glanced at your alarm clock next to your bed and groaned, seeing that you'd woken up just a little while before it was set to go off anyway.

you thought about calling in sick, but you've never done it before. were you supposed to call....coriolanus? directly? he was your only boss, you worked solely for him. but that thought made you feel even worse than your illness did. you knew that he had a busy day today full of meetings and work calls, and that you needed to be there to help organize his schedule. you couldn't stand the thought of disappointing him.

you sucked it up and took the hottest shower you could stand in efforts to clear your sinuses and stop the fever-induced chills wracking your body every few minutes. you knew coriolanus liked for you to look put-together in pretty dresses and heels, but today you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. you dressed in a loose blouse and pair of wide-leg trousers that felt comfortable enough, shoving your feet into flat shoes. good enough.

so now here you are, bundled in your sweater you keep at the office and trying hard to manifest that nobody will notice your red and raw nose or your watery eyes, least of all coriolanus. the wish goes ungranted, prayer unanswered as he strolls in and immediately stops and stares at you.

"what's wrong?" he asks.

"oh, um. just a little cold," you answer, voice nasally and much lower in pitch than normal. coriolanus frowns at you and shrugs his coat off, hanging it up and walking straight over to you to press the back of his hand to your forehead.

"you're burning up."

his lips turn down even further, not noticing the way you freeze at his sudden touch. coriolanus has been a lot more...touchy with you lately, but even still, this amount of concern is unexpected. his brows furrow at you, looking at you for a long moment. he carefully brushes your hair out of your face, looking over you and taking note of your outfit and general state. you can tell he notices that you've dressed much more comfortably than you usually would, and that your face is makeup-free and hair left at simply brushed through to undo any tangles.

"up," he tells you, gently lifting you out of your chair by your elbow.

"what?"

"let's get you home," he says gently, rubbing a warm and heavy hand up and down your back. "you're in no shape to be here today. i'll have my driver take you back to your apartment."

you look at him confused, unsure what to say. you're not sure if he's upset that you're sick or if he's more worried for your wellbeing, but it makes you anxious that he's acting so abrupt and unceremonious, almost as if you being sick is putting him on edge.

"coryo...?" you ask quietly. he freezes where he stands, having gone to grab your jacket off the coatrack. you watch as his entire demeanor softens.

"yes, miss y/n?"

you swallow hard, wincing at the pain it causes in your throat. "are...are you upset with me?"

coriolanus' eyebrows draw inward and upward at your question, quickly shaking his head.

"oh, no. no, of course not," he breathes, rushing over to help you slide into your coat. "i'm worried about you is all. i don't want you making yourself sicker by being here today, you're clearly very unwell. it's not your fault you're ill."

he carefully zips up your coat, grabbing his red scarf from the rack as well. before you can protest, he's draping it around your neck and tying it.

"for extra warmth," he explains. "it's freezing out there today."

the scarf is so soft where it's tucked beneath your chin, instantly adding more warmth where you need it. coriolanus gives you a tiny smile, lips closed but small dimple appearing at the corner of his mouth.

you're led to the car by him, his hand resting between your shoulder blades the entire time. coriolanus opens the car door for you to slide into the back seat, instructing his driver to take you home and make sure you get into your apartment safe and sound. his voice holds so much authority when he speaks to the driver, a deepness and sternness that's never present when he's addressing you.

by the time you reach your apartment and climb the steps up, there are several beautifully packaged boxes waiting for you at your door, as well as a single red, long-stemmed rose. you tilt your head and bring them inside, opening them one by one to find that coriolanus has had soup, bread, and medicine delivered to you. attached to the rose by a red satin ribbon is a note that simply reads:

"get well soon, darling"

[roosterforme]

How You Play the Game Part 5 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley takes the day off from work to spend it with you instead. He has no right to feel as jealous as he does when someone else asks you out, and it leaves him wondering exactly what it would be like to date you. It's obvious you need a break from another night in a hotel room, so Bradley takes you somewhere more comfortable.

Warnings: Swears, fluff, angst, oral and smut (18+)

Length: 6000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

You wiggled around in Bradley's arms as he kissed your shoulder late the following morning. He loosened his grip on you but didn't let go completely, and once you were facing him, he pulled you close so your body was pressed to his from head to toe. 

When you kissed him, images of mini golf and a late night dinner filled your mind, and you snuggled in. This was so much more than fucking. This was a full blown love affair. And maybe it was starting to feel too intense and scary because you'd never experienced anything like this before, but this was something you'd never forget. You'd have to fight to get over Bradley, but you would never forget him. And now you were determined to enjoy the rest of your time here.

"Do you want to go eat the mediocre continental breakfast with me before they close everything up at ten o'clock?"

He chuckled, and the sound of it made you smile. He didn't really belong in your world, and you didn't belong in his, but this overlap was something special.

"Yeah, Ace," he rasped, running his fingers inside his Padres jersey which you were still wearing and wrapping his hand around your hip. He lifted his head up and checked the time on the alarm clock. "It's 9:30, Baby. Let's go eat, and you can tell me what we're doing today."

You simply buttoned up his jersey, skipping a bra, and pulled your jeans back on while he also got dressed in yesterday's clothing. On the walk to the elevator, he was looking down at his shirt while he held your hand. "Great. I got maple syrup on myself at the diner."

"That's why you smell so good."

Bradley laughed and backed you up against the wall inside the elevator. "Well, I didn't bring anything else to wear, and you look mighty cozy in my jersey, so I guess you'll have to smell maple syrup on me all day. You look so cute in that thing, I think it's yours now."

You let him tip your head back and kiss you while he ran one sure hand along your butt and gave you a squeeze. Your heart pounded a little faster at the prospect of always having his shirt with you so you could wear it any time. You briefly wondered if you could get away with still wearing it if you ever had a boyfriend, but it was almost amusing that you could only picture yourself with Bradley now.

"Oh, I have an idea," you said, giggling softly as you exited the elevator and led him toward the crowded breakfast area. 

"What's that?" he asked, piling a plate full of waffles and drenching them in syrup. Then he muttered, "Fuck it. The shirt's already a mess." 

You had to stifle your laughter as you got your own plate of food ready, and then Bradley found a small table with only one chair and quickly claimed it. You set your plate down and he patted his thigh indicating that you could sit on his lap. You'd already had sex with him, multiple times. You shouldn't feel butterflies in your tummy over the idea of the intimacy of sitting on his lap in front of strangers. 

"How do you take your coffee?" you asked, bending to kiss his forehead. 

"Black," he replied, looking up at you with those big brown eyes. "No sugar."

"Boring," you whispered with a grin that he immediately matched. Then you could feel his eyes on your back as you walked to the coffee station and made one paper cup of coffee just the way you liked it before dispensing his as well. When you turned to face him, his eyes were already on yours, and he was patting his leg like he couldn't stand being without you for another minute. 

"Ace," he grunted, raising one eyebrow, and when you set the coffees down, he pulled you onto his lap. "That's better. Now what's on the agenda for the day?"

You kissed his cheek as he took a bite of waffle. "Well, my agenda consists of another exclusive interview and article submission before the game tonight. So I guess it's our agenda now."

"Sounds fun," he said, and you watched him drip more syrup onto his shirt. "Fuck," he growled while you hooted with laughter.

"It's okay. I have a solution," you promised him. And when you were done eating, you took him by the hand and went to refill the coffees. "Let's visit the gift shop."

"Good idea," he muttered. "I need a toothbrush and deodorant."

"And I'm buying you a new shirt," you added once you were inside the small shop. You handed a pink toothbrush and some men's deodorant to the girl who was working, and then you pushed Bradley toward all of the Angels tee shirts, but he was just shaking his head. 

"I can't wear one of these. The Padres will know, Ace." But he was smiling as you reached for a red one with an 'A' on the front. 

"Which size?" you asked, and when he responded saying he needed an extra large, you looked through all the racks. "The biggest is a large." When you asked the girl who was working if there were more shirts, she shook her head.

Bradley held a size large up to his body and said, "I guess I can make it work. I don't know if red's my color though."

But you took it from his hands and said, "Only one way to find out." Then you charged everything to your room, and Bradley leaned down to kiss your neck and whisper thank you. "It's the least I can do after mini golf and the diner and the baseball tickets and how many miles you've driven to see me."

He followed you to the elevator as he said, "I did all of that because I wanted to."

"And I bought you a shirt, because I wanted to." Maybe you hoped he'd continue to wear it past the weekend. After you were gone. You didn't want to think about it as a frown creased your forehead. But it was like he knew what you were thinking, because he kissed you softly as you rode the elevator back up to your floor. 

Once the door closed and you were both alone in the hotel room, Bradley pulled his stained Padres shirt off, and you marvelled at his body once again. Snug jeans buttoned just below his belly button. Tan skin everywhere. Abs that you couldn't help but close the distance to him and trace with your fingers. 

Bradley cleared his throat as you dropped the bag from the shop to the floor, and he watched your fingers glide up his abs toward his solid chest. "What time is your exclusive interview?" he asked, his voice rough with need. "And where?"

"At 12:30. Across the street at the ballpark," you whispered, and then he had you in his arms. 

"I have an idea," he said, practically carrying you into the bathroom. "Let's take a shower together." You almost wanted to say no. You just knew that having his body all warm and slick and pressed up against yours would be almost too much. But then you were unbuttoning his pants, and he was stripping off the jersey and your jeans. 

The two of you made out as he cranked the water to hot, and the room was filled with steam by the time you wrapped your hand around his cock, and he followed you into the shower. Bradley stood behind you, blocking most of the hot spray as he ran his palms covered in body wash up and down the front of you. "Feel good?" he asked, smiling against your skin. Because of course it felt good to have his big hands on your nipples and rubbing your clit just right. 

This man barely had to do anything to get you off. Just his deep voice coaxing you along while he touched you. "Love those little noises, Ace. I love it when you say my name."

Your legs were shaking as you whined for him, and his sturdy body was the only thing keeping you upright as you saw stars. You came around two of his fingers shoved in your pussy while you rocked against his thumb on your clit. And before he could agree or disagree with your plan, you were on your knees for him with his cock in your mouth.

"Fuck," he groaned as you took him deep without any warning. You were blinking against the water droplets that hit you in the face as Bradley guided you a little slower with one hand at the back of your head and the other  stroking your cheek. "You're the best, Ace," he crooned, the scars on his neck prominent against his Adam's apple and his voice strained. "So fucking good, Baby."

You let him guide you at the pace he wanted it, and you were rewarded with Bradley's voice practically growling your proper name as he filled your throat with his cum. You swallowed him down as you sucked until he had to pull you away from him and haul you to your feet. The shower wall was cold against your back and butt as Bradley devoured your mouth. You knew he must have tasted himself there as he sucked on your lip and licked your tongue. 

As the minutes passed, the tempo slowed, and the two of you eventually broke apart with matching smiles. You managed to finish showering as Bradley's rosy cheeks grew a deeper shade of pink. "You're really something else, Ace."

--------------------------------

"I can't wear this," Bradley murmured as he pulled on the Angels shirt you'd purchased for him after breakfast. You and he really needed to get over to the ballpark so you could interview one of the players, and you looked like a million bucks in your jeans and casual blouse. But Bradley was in his jeans and a shirt that left nothing to the imagination. You could probably count his abs through this thing. But you were gaping at him and mumbling something. 

"You look hot," you gasped, eyes growing wider. "Like ridiculously hot, Bradley." 

He turned to look in the mirror, and there was a reason he bought extra large shirts. This one actually was a nice color on him, but the sleeves were tight on his biceps, and the whole thing was too snug across his chest. But he supposed it wasn't too terrible. It would get him through the day until he could get back home.

And then what? Would he see you at that same hotel in San Diego again? Would you want him to stay over with you? He was already itching to invite you to his house after the game tonight, but that seemed presumptuous. And having your body tucked against his all night long in a hotel room had some different implications than having your body next to his in his own bed. But he wanted it. He wanted to know what that would feel like. The specific way his own sheets would feel against his bare legs as you whispered good night with his arm wrapped around you. 

He shook his head and swallowed hard. "If you think I look okay, then let's get going." His voice sounded strange to his own ears, but you didn't seem to notice as you grabbed your bag with everything you would need and kissed his cheek.

"Seriously, it's almost too hot," you said, rubbing your hand along his belly and biting your lip. "And if anyone asks, you really are my assistant."

Bradley rolled his eyes to make you laugh, but upon arrival at the ballpark, he watched as you were searched for only the approved recording devices, and then he was searched as well. When someone asked him for his credentials, you pulled a pass from the plastic pouch on your lanyard. As soon as the guards examined the card with NEW YORK TIMES MEDIA EXCLUSIVE printed all over it, they seemed to be content to allow you both into the players only corridor. 

"Come on, intern Bradshaw. Don't dawdle," you scolded playfully. But when he reached for your hand, you just shook your head. "Not here," you whispered, and then Bradley followed you into a room filled with cameras and players and reporters. Filming was taking place all over the enormous room, and he supposed it would look bad for you if he was holding your hand in the background of a photo printed by the Chicago Tribune. 

"Who are you interviewing anyway?" he asked as you walked directly through the room and down another hallway that emptied out next to the Angels dugout. 

"Sheldon Darvish."

"Shit," Bradley murmured, because when he looked up, the pitcher who had been carrying the Angels through the postseason was right in front of him. He watched as you greeted the other man like you and he were old friends with a lingering handshake and some laughter. 

"Before we go on the record, I hope it's okay that I have a guest with me today?" you asked. "He doesn't have any recording devices on him."

Darvish barely spared a glance at Bradley where he leaned against the wall, nodding at him briefly before turning back toward you and saying, "It's fine with me. I've known you so long, I trust you."

"Okay, perfect," you replied, digging your recording device out of your bag as Sheldon Darvish sat down on the bench and patted the spot next to him. Then you sat awfully close to him and informed him that he was now on the record with you.

And Bradley was starting to have an issue with the way this guy was looking at you. While you kept your posture steady and set the recorder on the bench, Bradley watched Sheldon's eyes dip down to your blouse as you got your notebook and pen ready. And was his smile supposed to look charming when you asked him questions? Because he looked annoying to Bradley. This asshole probably thought he was hot shit, "accidentally" bumping your leg with his a few times. 

But this guy actually was hot shit. Bradley listened to you rattle off some of his statistics while Darvish shrugged like his killer pitching was nothing. He would probably be the Angels' ace starter next year. He was most definitely going to get a massive contract extension. His pitching had been phenomenal. He was actually handsome. And he was familiar with you. And now Bradley was wondering if you ever slept with this guy. 

The fact that he didn't have the right to feel jealous did not escape him, and Bradley even managed to evade the alarm bells going off in his mind when he told himself to pump the brakes. But then he had to watch as you finally ended the interview and turned off the recording device as you stood, and the pitcher's gaze followed your delicious body as you packed your bag again. 

"We're off the record," you told Darvish with a smile. "You didn't hear it from me, but good luck tonight. I know you're on short rest after your last start."

"Thanks," he replied easily, and when he stood, he was every bit as tall as Bradley. Maybe even taller. And now Bradley felt like an idiot standing here in a snug Angels shirt like he was some sort of fan of this guy who was currently asking you out. "Hey, if you're free right now, I'd love to take you to lunch. Anywhere you want. I have an hour or two before I need to start icing my shoulder."

You smiled and shook your head as you backed away. "That's never a good idea, and you know it. But I'm sure I'll see you again soon."

Before you could even turn all the way toward Bradley, Sheldon replied with, "Any time I see your name, I agree to an exclusive. Just in case you've changed your mind."

"Bye, Sheldon," you said with a little wave. Then you walked over to Bradley like he hadn't just witnessed something unsavory and asked, "You ready to go? I need some time to write this up and submit it."

"Yeah," Bradley grunted. And he glared at the major league baseball player who was currently looking at your ass. Apparently you were so far out of Bradley's league, it was some sort of a joke. But he was jealous and annoyed, and on the walk back through the room with all the cameras, he asked, "Did you ever sleep with that guy?"

You glanced briefly up at him over your shoulder, but you didn't respond until you were alone in the hallway. And even then, you kept walking along instead of looking at Bradley as you said, "Are you seriously asking me if I ever had sex with Sheldon Darvish? Have I not made it clear to you that I value my career?"

Your voice was calm, but Bradley could tell right away that you were pissed off. And he didn't think it was because he struck the truth with his statement. He had just offended you and your professionalism. "Ace, I-"

"Did you not hear what he said about agreeing to exclusives?" you snapped as you picked up your pace. "I'm not oblivious to the fact that I am young and a woman. If I slam the door in Darvish's face and start yelling about how unprofessional it would be to sleep with him, then guess what... no more interviews. And that goes for a handful of other players and coaches, too. I can't play the game the same way as the boys, Bradley. It doesn't work that way."

"Shit," he muttered, lengthening his strides to keep up with you as you exited the hallway near the ballpark entrance. "Ace. I'm sorry. I was out of line for so many reasons."

You came to a stop in the deserted concourse and looked up at him with tears in your eyes. "No, I never slept with Sheldon Darvish. No, I don't sleep around when I'm on the job. You're an anomaly, Bradley Bradshaw. And you're free to get in your cool car and go back to San Diego any time you want."

"Ace!" he practically shouted as you turned away, reaching for your hand even though you would probably pull it away. But you didn't. So he kissed you like he'd been dying to for the past hour. Just a short, soft press of his lips to yours, but it was enough to convey what he wanted it to. "I got jealous. I'm sorry. I know you're a pro. I'm just an idiot."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. "Are you coming back with me while I write this thing?"

"Yes."

"Then let's go."

-----------------------------

You sat perched on Bradley's lap while you proofread your newest piece on Darvish, and Bradley rubbed your back softly. As soon as you got back to the hotel room, you changed back into his Padres jersey instead of your stuffy blouse even though you knew you'd have to change back before the game tonight. 

"This is really good," Bradley murmured, reading over your shoulder. "I'm still surprised how quickly you can put an article together that makes me want to read it five times to catch all of the details."

Every time he said something so complimentary about your writing, you wanted to tell Greg Pfeffer to fuck off and then stay in California with Bradley. Your phone started ringing on the table next to your computer, and it was Greg himself. You pressed your index finger to your lips, warning Bradley not to talk, and then you answered the call and put it on speaker phone while you submitted your piece.

"Hi, Greg. Perfect timing, I'm about to send in my Darvish exclusive."

"I've been waiting for it," he barked in response. "Thursdays are slow as shit until the Thursday night football stats come in. You know this. I want to get this one online immediately."

You had to stifle a sigh as Bradley tightened his grip on you. "It's not even three in the afternoon here, Greg. But it's nearly finished, so I'll send it over now."

"Don't forget the hard cutoff tonight after the game."

And then Greg ended the call, and you were left with silence. Bradley kissed your neck and whispered, "He's such a fucking idiot. Doesn't appreciate what he's got." 

You could count on one hand the number of times you were a couple minutes late submitting an article in the past eight years. And maybe Bradley was right, but there was a price to be paid when you were at the top of your game. And that price was a lot higher for women. You submitted your article and waited for the receipt to arrive in your email inbox along with the daily recruitment emails. There was a pretty good chance Bradley caught a glimpse of the screen before you closed your computer and melted into his arms, but you didn't care. 

He held you silently on his lap just like that for a long time with his big hands keeping you warm and the steady rise and fall of his chest calming you. And then you must have fallen asleep. Because you jolted in his arms, and he chuckled, and the light coming in through the window looked different.

"What time is it?" you asked softly. 

"Four."

The game was at six, and you didn't want to move at all, so you let yourself indulge in Bradley for a little bit longer. You snuggled in closer and listened to his deep voice make suggestions that you knew you shouldn't consider. "I was thinking... you and I should go back to my place after the game tonight. I really should get to work tomorrow, and you could have a day off to rest before game six on Saturday. You know, somewhere other than a hotel room?"

"Yes." The word was out of your mouth so quickly, and he kissed the top of your head. It had been almost two months since you'd been in your own bed, and now you were curious to see what Bradley's place was like. You were convinced it would be as cozy as he was. "After the game tonight."

When you looked up at him, he was smiling. And that gorgeous smile was still there when you and he arrived at the crowded gate for the game. "Oh, shit. I wasn't even thinking you'd need a ticket," you said as you pulled out your pass. "I doubt there are any for sale, but I can ask-"

"I bought one online while you were napping."

You gaped at him. "How much did you spend?"

"It doesn't matter," he replied, holding up his phone to get the ticket scanned. "Worth every cent."

The warmth you were feeling carried over to the press box where Bradley smiled and waved at Quincy when he turned and glared in your direction. "You okay, man?" he asked him. "Game's happening in that direction." Bradley pointed down to the field until Quincy turned back around. "These assholes really are obsessed with everything you do," Bradley mumbled. "It's like they've never seen a woman outdoing them before."

You had to stifle your laughter during which was becoming a very boring game. After Darvish only pitched four innings, both teams started blowing through their backup pitchers to try to keep the score at 0-0 for as long as possible. Even your stats sheet was boring, and you weren't sure how you were going to make your article interesting. 

"I need to find a way to spice this up a little bit," you said before taking a sip from the water bottle Bradley fetched for you. "Because this game is not very interesting."

"I think it's fascinating, but that may just be because I'm sitting next to you," he replied from his folding chair with his leg pressed to yours. "Could be biased. And I can think of a way to spice things up."

You pressed your lips together before saying, "Tell me."

Bradley's eyes landed on the single room restroom as he said, "You're very good at baseball dirty talk. Write that shit into your article, and nobody will know what hit them."

"You really did like that, huh?" 

He groaned softly in response, and you had to squeeze your thighs together. "Pitching stats and batting averages in your voice... Baby, it's too damn hot."

You grinned as he was still wearing that snug Angles shirt which would have looked a little silly on most men. When you let your hand come to rest on his thigh at the top of the sixth inning, you whispered, "The Padres have a combined batting average that's almost five percent higher than the rest of the league."

"Tell me more," he whispered, his cheeks already growing rosy. 

After you made sure nobody was looking, you wrote down the pitch count and said, "I think it's because they change their batting order so frequently. Keeps the other teams guessing what's coming next."

You cupped his cock and felt him getting harder for you. "Give me a little more, Baby," he rasped.

You giggled as you said, "Did you know the Padres' left handed batters are better even than the 1979 Pirates?"

"Shit," Bradley gasped. "Let's go fuck in the bathroom." His cheeks were bright pink and he was rock hard. You nodded, because you were turned on too. And you knew this was more than just fucking; this was some deeply indulgent reaction you had to each other that needed to be explored. You took Bradley by the hand during the break in the inning, and reached into your tote bag. 

"How fast can you be?" you asked as you discreetly held up a condom.

"For you?" he asked as he followed you into the bathroom and started undoing his pants. "Fast."

Your hands were braced on the sink vanity, and your pants and underwear were down around your knees. "Oh my god," you whined as you watched your reflection in the mirror as Bradley sucked on your neck and fucked you from behind. He was going fast, his left hand next to yours while he stroked your clit with his right. 

"Usually I like taking my time with you," he grunted. "But a quickie in the press box? I'll be thinking about this for the rest of my life, Ace." Then he met your eyes in the mirror, and you were shocked to find yourself cumming for him as he railed you with sharp snaps of his hips. "Shit, Baby!" 

You tried your best to be quiet, and as soon as Bradley came, you spun around while he was catching his breath. "I'm going to sneak back out first," you whispered, kissing him hard on the lips and then fixing your pants. "See you out there."

You still had quite a few condoms left in your suitcase which made you smile. And you would be heading to Bradley's house in a few hours which made your smile grow. When he returned from the bathroom a minute later with his cheeks still pink and a little grin on his face, you had to cover your lips to keep from laughing. 

---------------------------

You were back on Bradley's lap in your hotel room as you finished your article. But this time your bags were all packed, and you were ready to return your rental car and hit the road with him. He was taking you back to his house, and he couldn't be happier. Granted, he was working very hard to keep himself from thinking about what was coming later this weekend. 

"Why are my notes blank right here?" you asked him, raising an accusatory eyebrow in his direction as you tapped your notebook. 

"Oops," Bradley replied, reaching around you to playfully add some text to your paragraph. He spoke out loud as he typed, "And this is the part of the sixth inning that I missed because I was in the bathroom with Bradley."

You laughed and backspaced the sentence as you said, "I mean, that would definitely spice up the article!"

"It was kind of a boring game five. I mean, the Padres only won by one run."

"I know," you said as you typed up some flowery nonsense about how the quiet crowd at Angels Stadium was an asset to the Padres. "Let's get out of here," you said, submitting your article. 

"Wait, you don't have to rush," Bradley replied, stilling your hands. "We can return your rental car and get on the road anytime."

"It's okay," you whispered. "This is as good as it's going to get. And my article will still be better than Quincy's."

"I don't doubt that," he said with a yawn. "Damn it, Ace. You're wearing me out."

After Bradley followed you to the rental car drop off, he hopped out of the still running Bronco and added your bags to the back. When you returned the keys and headed back toward him in the beams of his headlights, you reached for him. "Want me to drive so you can get a nap in? You have to work early tomorrow, and it's almost 11:30."

He didn't really want to miss a waking minute with you, but he was exhausted. And a ninety minute drive now would probably leave him in a zombie-like state at work tomorrow. "You don't mind?"

"No," you replied, and he walked you to the driver's side door and got the seat adjusted to where you needed it. 

"Thanks," he whispered, kissing you in the dark parking lot as he cupped your cheek. He helped you up and closed the door, and as soon as he entered his address into your phone GPS and handed it back to you, he was falling asleep. 

The soft music you selected on the radio sent him into some sweet dreams where you were still his at Thanksgiving and for Christmas and even on New Year's Eve. He dreamed about spending his birthday with you and his friends at the beach. And when he woke up to your soft voice and your hand on his leg, it just made sense. 

"We're here, Bradley," you were saying with a smile in your voice. "Wake up." And when he opened his eyes, he'd never seen anything prettier. Being near you just seemed right.

"Thanks for driving," he rasped as he sat up in his Angels shirt that he kind of couldn't wait to take off. "Let's get all your stuff inside." Really, you only had one piece of luggage and your tote bag. He could hardly understand how you stayed away from home for so long with so little. It made him feel sad as he carried your things inside. 

He knew his house was small, but it was comfortable and clean and everything he needed. But you gasped when you entered the cottage as Bradley turned on some lights. 

"Your place is huge!" you sighed, walking around and looking at his large TV and some of the photos of his parents that were hanging up. "And really tidy for a bachelor pad."

You were grinning at him as he led you to his bedroom. "Not sure if I left unfolded laundry on my bed. I was in a rush to get up to Anaheim to see you." But luckily his room was tidy, too. And you kicked off your shoes and started to undress like you belonged there as he set your bags down. 

"I need to charge my computer," you mumbled, walking around his room completely naked. "Can I borrow a shirt for bed? And where's your bathroom?"

Bradley pulled a TOP GUN shirt out of his drawer and handed it to you with a kiss. "Across the hallway." He watched you retrieve your toiletry bag and walk out of the room. He almost never had anyone else spend the night here with him. Occasionally Nat would pass out in the other room, and very rarely he'd let a girl stay overnight. But the last time that happened had been quite a while ago.

But the way you waltzed back into his room with your face clean of makeup and hugged him around the middle left him breathless. "Thanks for bringing me here. I can't even tell you how draining it is to always be in a hotel room. I just did the math when I was brushing my teeth: I haven't been in my own apartment in forty-nine nights."

Bradley was flabbergasted. "Forty-nine?! Ace, that's... way too many!"

"I know," you replied with a laugh. "And it'll probably be ninety before I get back there."

Bradley shook his head. "Come here." He tugged you toward his bed and pulled back the covers for you. "Get comfy. I'll be right back."

While he brushed his teeth and rinsed his face, Bradley thought about how you probably needed someone to take care of you occasionally. He wanted to do it. When he returned to his bedroom in his underwear, you looked so tiny wrapped up in his bedding with your head on his pillow, but you were smiling. 

"You do whatever you want tomorrow, okay? But I think you should rest," he whispered as he climbed in bed and pulled you close. "Help yourself to whatever is in my refrigerator. Use my washer and dryer. Look at the baseball cards in my garage. Whatever you want. But try to relax while I'm at work."

"Yes, sir," you mumbled against his shoulder. "Thanks for reminding me I need a break."

Bradley grunted in response and turned off his lamp, but the darkness just made his senses more alert. When he kissed the top of your head, he could tell you weren't asleep yet. He ran his hand down your arm until he was holding your hand, and he couldn't hold back the words that he spoke. "Tell me what it would be like to be in a relationship with you."

When you didn't respond right away, he felt embarrassed. He'd made a jealous fool of himself earlier over Sheldon Darvish when he had no right to you whatsoever. And now he was trying to push things too far. He was about to apologize as you kissed his shoulder again.

"Nobody actually wants to date me," you said softly. "Guys just think they do. They love the idea of me, I guess. And maybe they could even grow to love me. But it's too much for them. It always is. I'm never around, and it's impossible to get in contact with me when I can't take my phone into a four hour exclusive. And I'll miss your birthday and our anniversary," you said as you laughed a little bitterly. "I stopped celebrating my own birthday when I turned twenty three and couldn't figure out which day it was as I flew to Europe for the Olympics coverage." 

Bradley squeezed you and whispered, "I didn't ask what other guys thought, Ace. I asked what it would actually be like."

Once again, he was met with silence, and he realized it was because you were trying not to cry. He whispered an apology against your forehead as you said, "Parts of it would be fun, Bradley. But the other parts would be too hard, and I wouldn't want you to feel bad about losing interest in someone who you never saw."

He tipped your head up and kissed your lips. "I wouldn't lose interest. And I just really want to watch the Blue Jays with you."

You returned his kiss before you whispered, "I know." And then he let you turn so your back was to him. A minute later, you reached tentatively with your hand until you found his. Bradley let you wrap yourself up in his arms, and eventually you both fell asleep while he kissed your neck and tried not to tell you how he was really feeling.

------------------------

He just wants to watch the Blue Jays with her. That's all he wants. This story is making me a lot more emo than I anticipated. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 6

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[ch4nb4ng]

The Pompous Laywer

Pairing: Changbin x afab!reader

Genre: Enemies to lovers

Word count: 12.3k (jesus i know i always say i get carried away but this is the worst one to date)

Warning: 18+ fic, swearing, mentions of police and law, kissing, fingering, mentions of behind, breasts and nipples, penetration, mentions of erections, precum, switch (?) both people, no huge dynamics of any type, semi-public sex

Note: hey !!! I have binge watched the tv show The rookie and I'm obsseseed with it so I based this fic loosely off two of the characters on thw show. I will put a link here of the vibes of these chracters so you can get an idea of the vibe I was going for (here) and (here) . No visual inspo today it got deleted :(

Taglist: @seo--changbin @j-0ne25 @cb97whoree @kpopsstuffs

Summary: Tension was at an all time high between you, the very capable and well established police officer, and the arrogant, smug lawyer who was always in your way. That was, until he actually needed you for a favour, out of the precinct, and on his office.

It was a breezy day at police headquarters for the team. The holidays were over, meaning that crime rate was low, and mainly because today was an admin day for you; your least favorite. Stacks on top of stacks of finishing reports, filing said reports, making sure that it is impeccable shape. The last time you accidentally filed a case on August 21 instead of August 20, the captain gave it to you for days. 

****

That was years ago, during your rookie days. Now being a training officer, things were more fun. It was also easy to pick on the rookies that were assigned to you, feeling partly vindicated for what you had to experience during your own early days. However, without sounding too cliche, it also allowed them to become the best cops they could be, and it was fun to become friends with them, have them become your fellow colleagues and knowing that if you were in any high risk situation, they would have the training and rationality to have your back and do what is necessary.

***

Your eyes boggled as you sat at your desk, immediately noticing the way your fellow police officer, and best friend, Felix avoided eye contact when chucking the thick mound of paper onto the edge of your desk. The Sergeant was already out and about, checking and maintaining his authority by checking who was working and who was not. Sergeant Bang was not surprised to see you doing other things than what you were supposed to be doing; it was very obvious when you were staring at the large analog clock that was plastered on the wall, facing the opposite direction of your desk.

“How’s the paperwork going?”

“Pff,” you huffed, falling face first into the humongous pile, “Sergeant Bang, it’s a lot but I’ll get it done.”

“Good work y/n, I need at least half done by the end of the day, you need to take Hyunjin out on the street today, and you need to follow up on a house disturbance that occurred yesterday.”

“Yes sir.”

Your designated rookie, Hyunjin, was walking over to your desk, a large smile greeting his face as he took his seat next to you.

“Good morning Y/n, how are you today?”

“Can you not see the stack here? Get to work rookie, we need half of this done at midday so we can head back to that house we visited yesterday.”

“Got it,” Hyunjin replied, still smiling as he enthusiastically grabbed a quarter and clicked his pen, getting straight to it. You were lucky this year, taking on one of the rookies that was keen to listen, but also didn’t take it to heart when you criticized or made jokes. Most rookies understood that it was part of the process to earn your extra stripes.

Midday could not come fast enough. You were drowning in paperwork, and a coffee was definitely something you needed if your brain was not going to shut down. A large yawn fell from your lips as you rose from your chair, sluggishly making your way to the break room. The coffee pot had just been boiled, thank god, simply needing to just pour it in. Your arms moved slowly, sluggish movements following before a single drop touched your lips. Oh the feeling of sweet relief as the warm liquid ran down your throat, giving you enough energy to get back to your desk and into the swing of paperwork.

The pile descended bit by bit, but when the clock struck midday, a jolt of electricity sparked through your body as you nudged Hyunjin to get the tactical gear and prepare the shop. Felix was standing next to you, waiting for his own rookie to complete the same action.

“How is Hyunjin going?”

“Yeah good, kinda felt bad that he got stuck with my paperwork.”

A smirk came to Felix’s face, a playful punch coming into contact with your shoulder after.

“You made him do most of your own admin work? Damn, your harsh T.O y/l/n.”

A giggle came after Felix’s gentle criticism, “work hard play hard right? Got much on in the afternoon?”

“Not really, but we are only doing street patrol for a couple of hours today. Mr. Douchebag is coming in because I booked one of his clients yesterday.”

Fuck. When Felix said Mr. Douchebag, you knew exactly who he was talking about. Seo Changbin, the most scumbag defense attorney's known to mankind. Acted like he owned the place whenever he came into the precinct, treated sargents, captains, and police officers with little to zero respect. It’s people like him in the legal system that you simply did not want to make time for.

“For fucks sake,” you mumbled, “when is here not the fucking here?”

“Unfortunately,” Felix paused, covering his mouth to prevent anyone from hearing you gossip on the job, “and I hate to give him credit, but he somehow manages to represent every person in here, and most of them seem to get off. He’s trying to get me for unlawful captivity on the drug dealer we busted yesterday.”

“Pfft,” you scoffed, “of course he is. He-,”

Before you could continue, a sudden bubble of anger traveled across your fibers as you saw him walk into the precinct. Suited up, completely, that fucking brown leather briefcase he always carried. God. Even the way he held his chin up, facial expression showing nothing but arrogance because he knew that as soon as he saw you or Felix, he was going to be relentless. 

“God he’s such a douchebag.”

“Listen Y/n, I actually hate him, you on the other hand,” Felix paused, giving you an unimpressed look, “Try not to get your panties in a twist.”

“Dude,” you hit him, face heating up from his rather honest remark.

The two of you had a history. From the multiple times he got his clients to remain silent, released on bail when they should not have been. Having to testify as the officer on scene and he would do everything in his power to tear you down, make you look incompetent. Changbin was a menace, and if it was anybody else you would admire how smart and hard working someone like that was. But to do that, let’s just say you would rather get hit by a bus like Regina George. He always, for some reason that baffled you to try and work out, was always obsessed with proving you wrong. Felix’s ‘wrongdoings’ were ones he liked to point out too, but yours were tenfold. It’s like he thought that you should be fired not everytime you apparently did something against the law, but more specifically when it was something he didn’t like. Something that went against his own personal morals, and that’s what irritated you the most. The pompous lawyer only did what aligned with his morals and values, which to any normal person, would be the opposite of most. Every word that came out of his mouth gave you a headache.

But god, was he hot. There was always a tension, the strength of it based on how fiery the disagreements became,  that filled the room whenever a conversation (if you were putting your interactions nicely) was sparked between the two of you. It was easy for all the officers to see, and the amount of shit you copped for it was an understatement. Especially since you worked in a job where everyone’s observational skills were of high standard. Nonetheless, you would never let anything get in the way of your job, and that meant never mixing business with pleasure. I mean, not that you wanted to, because as soon as he opened his mouth, any feasible positive thought of attraction or whatever it was that made you feel drawn for him for a second flew out the window.

It didn’t take long for him to identify the two of you, a sly smile covering his lips as he strode over, expensive dress shoes, ones that he bought by most likely overcharging his clients ten fold to support his wannabe lavish lifestyle, clicked across the concrete floor and as soon as he was standing in front of you, his eyes gazed down then slowly back up, making sure to up his sleaziness by checking you out. If punching someone in the face wasn’t illegal, Seo Changbin would be knocked out cold.

“Officers.”

The two of you refused to look in the eye, the pompous lawyer very much undeserving of your respect, let alone your attention. He chuckled when he noticed, readjusting his suit in an attempt to gain control over whatever this interaction was.

“Long time no see,” you replied with the fakest smile, gritting your teeth in resistance.

“How fortunate,” he fake pouted, completely matching your energy, “I’m not here for you today, I’m here for him.”

Felix crossed his arms and stood strong to keep his high standard of authority with Changbin.

“My client hasn’t said a word in 48 hours, so you need to let him go.”

Your best friend rolled his eyes as he said nothing, allowing him to walk passed as headed over to the investigation room. You could tell straight away that Felix was flat, another defeat he had experienced at the hands of this ruthless, douchebag, absolutely cock of a lawyer. It got under your skin even more each time. Nonetheless, maintaining a high standard of professionalism meant having the communication skills required to result in efficient or necessary outcomes. You placed a hand on Felix’s gripped wrist, opening it up and hoping he would take a deep breath.

“Felix come on,” you whispered, easily able to feel the lawyer's eyes burning into the side of your head, “we’ll get him next time.”

He shrugged you off, heading back to his desk and engrossing himself in paperwork. You knew not to take it personally, seeing as his frustration wasn’t with you, but rather with how Changbin always seemed to have the upper hand on the two of you. 

**

Hyunjin was taking an awfully long time, especially since Changbin has already left the interrogation room, making a v line straight for you again. His stance was still cocky as hell, hanging up his phone call with the perfect timing so he could stand right in your face. His hair was parted on the side, bangs slicked back, exposing his forehead. His shoulders were wider than usual, arms bulging out of the jacket as his smirk sent a shiver down your spine. Fuck. 

You were lying if you said that he wasn’t attractive, objectively speaking of course. He always had some kind of smoothness about him, even if it was arrogant, on some days, maybe when you were feeling vulnerable or frustrated, he was always something to look at. Wearing clothes that were way too tight was clearly a staple, but it’s not like you were complaining. If anything, the cocky persona, sometimes, was a little arousing. But then as soon as he opened his mouth, all of that perceived charisma and attraction disappeared.

“God it feels good getting them out unscathed.”

“Find somewhere else to gloat Changbin,” you scoffed, eyes fixated in the way his tie arched across his chest, “I’m not the person who made the arrest.”

“Oh I know, it makes me sad,” he fake pouted once more, “I kind of wish you were the arresting officer, could have spent more time working together.”

There was a slight pang in your chest at his words. You knew that he was joking, his sarcasm was impossible to not notice. He took a step even closer, now in your personal space. He raked another peek up and down, another god evil smirk plastering his lips. His look definitely did not go unnoticed. You took no pleasure in cowering away from him, standing strong and face tough because you knew better than to give him any benefit of the doubt that he would turn around and treat you with any kind of decency.

“Yeah well I’m not and you should know better than to interact with me if there aren’t any pressing cases or charges that I am involved in.”

“Yeah I know, which is why I am talking to you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, mind scrambling as you had quite literally no idea what on earth he could be talking about. There were no open cases of yours right now, and even if they were, it had been passed onto detectives as the severity of the cases were too much for an officer. 

“Yeah, you know your T.O? How he was arrested for drug trafficking in front of the whole office last month? Yeah, well it turns out he asked me to defend him.”

The case sent you into a frenzy. Your T.O was the backbone on how you became the cop you were today. They got you through the trials and tribulations. Seeing a lot of gruesome things on the job was hard to conceptualize at first, but they were the first to comfort and assure you that things would be okay. When it was announced, 3 days before public knowledge, it broke your heart. Made you question everything that you thought you knew about policing. Therefore, for Changbin to bring up not only the arrest, but the fact that he was defending him was a low blow, even for him.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Of course. Earning the cop money is fucking great.”

You could feel the heat under the uniform rising rapidly, the mixture of stress at the mention of the anxiety induced name was not a good combination when standing in front of a person you already wanted to punch in the face solely for their existence.  

“You shouldn’t be defending them.”

Changbin’s expression changed, the cocky arrogant facade of Changbin to one more serious, like he was offended by what you said. Here you go, accidentally offending his so-called morals and beliefs. Always more important to him than the actual law.

“And what gives you the right to tell me who I can and can’t defend?”

You rolled your eyes at his question. “Look, I know you like to defend the scum, but this is the lowest.”

“That’s why I did it. Cops are just the worst, and defending an ex cop is great to me, but let’s not get brash and cut straight to the chase. I need you for the case.”

The look on your face was priceless. The shock was real, and you were too busy processing his words to realize his hardness dropped, the arrogance disappearing when he saw the hurt pouring from your eyes. The atmosphere changed, and it was more of one where Changbin, shocking himself, felt guilt toward you.

“Like hell I’m defending that piece of shi-”

“Wait,” he interrupted, another expression, this one different, more like concern as he heard the slight strain of hurt in your vocals, “I feel bad asking, but they want you as a character witness.”

Your frustration was reaching a new point, boiling point coming up much sooner than you would have liked. A tear threatened to spill from your eyes as you quickly flicked it away, not wanting the pompous lawyer to see any form of vulnerability, to know he beat you. Every conversation with Changbin was a competition; sometimes you won, sometimes you lost. He placed a hand on your shoulder, wanting to comfort you in a way that wasn’t too personal and suspicious in a public place. However, for you this was personal, and anyone with half a brain cell knew that this would strike a very sensitive cord within you. The tension was thick, and it was a relief that you could see your rookie coming back over to break up whatever this moment was.

“Here,” Changbin took out his business card, “it has my phone number on it. If you agree to do it, we will have to have a meeting to go over things. You don’t have to, but they would greatly appreciate it.”

You said nothing, a light smile across your face as you let yourself fall into the dream that was Changbin’s gaze. You weren’t sure if it was the sudden calming, friendly demeanor and lack of goblin behavior that you didn't know he was capable of expressing, or the idea that the buttons on his shirt were getting tighter and tighter, the spaces between them getting bigger the longer he stood there. It was hard to form a word the more time you spent with him.

Hyunjin was back, finished loading the shop before you could continue your shit talking conversation. You coughed to adjust yourself, not wanting for Changbin or your rookie to see that he was under your skin.

“All ready boot?”

He nodded, a friendly smile as he followed you, grin disappearing as he noticed your vulnerable demeanor. Hyunjin stepped in front of you, feeling the need to protect you from him, and to close the already small space that the two of you were sharing. You pushed him aside, a weak smile on your lips as Changbin waited for you to answer.

“Let me think about it.”

He nodded, allowing you to leave and head to the car with Hyunjin. As you got into the passenger's seat your mind continued to race with two things. Partly your T.O, but mainly Changbin. 

It was the first time that you had seen an almost human side to him. You weren’t sure what to call it, but it was encasing your mind, taking over all conscious parts of your brain. It was almost impossible to believe that a lawyer, especially a defense lawyer, actually felt bad for asking someone to help him with a case.

“Are you okay?”

Hyunjin snapped you out of deep thought, looking at you while driving to analyze your facial expressions.

“Eyes on the road boot, and yes I’m fine.”

A silence fell over the car, the lack of criminal activity responsible for that.

“Is something going on between you and the lawyer?”

You gave him a look of disgust, finding this a completely inappropriate question to ask a superior officer. Even though it wasn’t a completely ridiculous question to ask, it was obvious to a third party that there was something better. But you knew better than to have your rookie have the upper hand on you, especially when it came to your personal life.

“Why are you running your mouth, boot? You know who he is right?”

“Yes, I,” Hyunjin hesitated, worried that you were upset with him, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, adjusting yourself in the rather large seat. When it came to your personal life, especially when it wasn’t great it was easier to be this way. Cold, brash. It also seemed to be the way that Hyunjin learnt how to do things efficiently and easily.

“I’m sorry Y/n, I know I’m overstepping, but I saw the way he looked at you when your appearance changed. Like he really cared for you.”

“Hyunjin I swear to god,” you yelled, immediately getting defensive at his implication. Your tone was harsh, a prompt guilt coming over you as you continued to speak, correcting the tone of what and how you said it.

“He didn’t do anything that bad, and there’s nothing going on in between us.”

You paused again, looking around with the means of refusing any possible contact when talking about this sensitive subject.

“He asked me to testify in a case about my T.O.”

“The one that got arrested?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, feeling small even talking about it, “wants me to be a character witness for him.”

“That’s so rough, I’m really sorry.”

“Eh it’s not your fault. Enough about me, let’s focus on the road.”

The afternoon of patrol was easy, but your mind floated every once in a while to everything that surrounded Changbin. Hyunjin’s perception, Changbin’s own humane side coming out to comfort you, if you could even call it that. Whatever it was, it was something that you could not get out of your mind. On the contrary, you would never let something as miniscule as a mee defense lawyer get in the way of your high quality police work.

***

Patrol was over too soon, greeted by a smile from Felix once more as you saw him getting out of his shop and walking over to you.

“How was patrol?”

He said nothing, directing his hand to his rookie with one of the biggest drug dealers in the area. Your jaw dropped when you saw this large 6’5 300 pound man in cuffs.

“How on earth did you manage that?”

“He was sleeping,” Felix smirked, “had no idea we were coming. God some criminals are so dumb.”

“Nice work boot,” you nodded, helping him carry the man to be processed.

The processing was the easiest part. Finger prints, photos, and paperwork assessing the individual. Making sure they had no weapons on them; catching the cops was the hardest part. Processing and putting them in a holding cell was the most relaxing part of the job. Even the paperwork was more stressful. 

The guy was being put in his cell, but it wasn't a rude surprise when you saw the man who was on your mind all day show up. He was bolting straight for the cops holding the perp, an agenda in his eyes as your irritation rose, knowing exactly what he was going to do.

“Woah Changbin,” you stepped in, standing between the struggling perp and Changbin, “what are you doing?”

“You need to let go of him, he is being unlawfully detained.”

“And how would you know that?”

“Because my client is under the influence, he does not understand his rights and you cannot keep him.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at his statement. He was dead serious, and there was no way you would stop this guy from being detained. He was well known for a while, and you weren’t going to let Changbin’s antics get in the way of this.

“This man is not showing any substances in his system, he needs to be processed.”

“And like I just said, he doesn’t understand his rights so uncuff him and let him go.”

“How would you know that?”

“Because I was across the street after visiting another client and I saw them put him in the car. He barely said yes when asked if he understood.”

“Okay but he said yes so what’s the problem?”

“Do I have to repeat myself? You’re also using unlawful force on my client.”

“Unlawful force?” you scoffed, “the guy is over 300 pounds.”

The responses were back and forth, way too quickly to react and way too difficult for someone to step in and diffuse the situation. Tempers were running high, and the longer the argument went on, the louder your voices became. Any leniency that you felt prior towards the pompous lawyer was diminished in an instant. Another officer stepped in, attempting to continue to put this man in the holding cell.

“It doesn’t matter, you need to let him out or I will report this as unlawful and you will lose your job immediately.”

“Are you serious? I-”

“What is this ruckus?”

The two of your heads snapped simultaneously once you heard the Sargeants voice.

“We are trying to detain a perp but ‘Mr. fancy pants’ here is obstructing us from doing so.”

“With all do respect sir this is an unlawful arrest I-”

Sargent Bang took another step forward, putting a hand in front to stop Changbin from talking. Due to the significant height difference, the lawyer backed down, clearly intimidated by Chan's demeanor.

“Mr. Seo, do I come to your office and tell you how to argue in court?”

“No,” he replied, an obvious defeat in his tone, “I don’t.”

“Then you need to get the hell out of my officer's face and you can make a claim in my office.”

The lawyer nodded, no words needed to be said as he followed the Sergeant upstairs and you lost your view of him. The beads of sweat were scattered across Felix’s forehead, a huge sigh of relief as he swiped a hand across, happy to have got him in the cell.

“Nice arrest,” you smirked.

“Yeah. Thanks for that.” He smiled back. But you knew better. There was a second look in his eyes, one that had an underlying meaning, another implication if you will, “I wouldn’t have been able to complete it if it wasn’t for you practically barking at him.”

You laughed, hard at his statement.

“That’s not true, and I feel like you need to spit out what you’re thinking.”

A sarcastic look of shock appeared on Felix’s face.

“Me?” he questioned, placing a hand on his chest in surprise shock, “when do I have something ever to say?”

“Spit it out.”

“Fine,” he chuckled, “you held your own, don't get me wrong. It’s just, I can’t help but feel like there’s some tension between you.”

“Tension?”

At first you were confused. Obviously there was tension, the two of you were yelling at each other for five minutes. You were pissed. How dare he try to embarass you in front of your fellow officers. Accuse you of malpractice. You would never do the same in front of his colleagues. It wasn't until you realized what the smolder behind his lips really meant, and it shook you to your core.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“What,” Felix shrugged, mumbling under his breath, “it’s not the first time I’ve noticed it.”

You shook your head, the thought sending you into a head spin. He couldn’t be right. You repulsed the man, despised him on every level. 

Why was your head going straight to this morning, and the interaction before that, and the interaction before that. You had to walk away, space out in your office chair and involuntarily re-analyse every single conversation you had with this damn lawyer. God it was frustrating. Why was he playing so much in your mind? A man of such vulgar and despicable actions was clouding your judgment. It was impossible to do paperwork, concentrate on anything anyone had said. The thought of him, his face, hair, blazer jacket, shirt. That fucking white shirt. Your memory automatically scrolls to that one time the top button was undone. The way his jawline clenched when he took serious phone calls in the precinct. The way he was able to swoon other police officers into getting the information he needed. There was no reason for this, but it was becoming significant that all it took for you to spiral about the pompous lawyer was a gentle nudge in the direction from Felix.

“Hey.”

The voice, the last, yet first, person you actually wanted to even fix your eyes on was talking to you right now. This had to be a joke. It almost made you chuckle at the way he was standing over you at your desk; he probably loved it. Doing anything and everything he could to bring the worst out of you. And if he wasn’t going to apologize right now, he was going to do exactly that. His hand crept into your vision, veiny dorsal hands as his frame got closer and closer, hoping that you would acknowledge his presence, and not the other way round. You could see the look of Felix pretending to gasp at the lack of space between your bodies from the corner of your eye, leaving you even more reluctant to one, fuel your best friend and any other officers point, and two, actually converse with him.

“What do you want, Changbin?”

Your tone sounded very unenthusiastic, mouth, or throat, not having the energy to entertain the nonsense that was about to spew out of his mouth.

“I need an answer about testifying, for the other trial.”

“When do you need the answer?”

“Today at the end of shift.”

“Well then you’ll get my answer then.”

He moved away, running a frustrated hand through his hair at your stubbornness and unwillingness to cooperate. 

“Can’t you just give me an answer now?”

“Hmm,” you stood up, clasping your finger upon your chin, looking ‘very’ deep in thought, after the way he just treated you, attempting to embarrass you, it wasn’t really in your mind to treat him with any care, “I just don’t feel like giving you an answer right now.” 

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“My problem?” you raised your voice, smacking your hand down on the desk, causing the surrounding officers and personnel to stare straight on.

“What the fuck is my problem,” you took a step closer, aiming to get into the lawyers face, “You have the problem, not me.”

The bickering was at an all time high today. This was normal. Changbin used to find at least one officer to argue with, but the intensity of your heated discussions with him were always ten fold in comparison. Voices were always raised to a peak, fingers gripped in fists, it was practically a show for the precinct, and the officers looked every time; sometimes they were sad because the only thing missing was their popcorn. 

The tension in this moment was high, but nothing you didn’t experience every single time this douchebag flashed his face in your place of work. Your eyes widened when you saw Sargent Bang standing behind Changbin from a distance, teeth gritted to end the conversation now, or there would be consequences for your actions. You gripped Changbin’s arm, dragging him around the corner, in front of the low-level weaponry kit room. The only people that walked past that part of the precinct in the middle of the day were police chiefs, and their visit was once a month; today was not that day.

“This is unlawful force on a civilian-”

“Shut up,” you interrupted, whispering as you finally let him go once you were out of frame from the others, “I don't want to make more of a scene and you are not going to be the reason I get fired.”

He scoffed at your remark, finding a sarcastic humor in it. He adjusted his suit jacket once more, patting down his suit and making sure he looked perfect as always. A single strand was out of place across his forehead, and you couldn’t lie, it was pretty adorable. Seeing him out of place in the slightest was like goosebumps on your skin. 

“Well it wouldn’t be a problem if you just answered my question.”

The shrug he gave made you want to kick him in the knees. Hands on your hips, you stood there, waiting for him to actually pay attention to what you had to say.

“Look,” he whispered, facial expression of friendlessness back, “I know this must be hard for you.”

He paused, wanting to sense your reaction. Your muscles related to posture softened, eyes avoiding his gaze, yet feeling the need to guard yourself suddenly unnecessary. Conversing with Changbin was like having a concussion, sometimes painful, sometimes blissful, but you couldn’t lie and stay in denial that there was meaning behind this. A gravitational pull that rushed your towards him, and the gentle moments where showed his non-demonic angle was poking out and taunting you made the force greater each time. The sprinkles of generosity he showcased were something that you ate up everytime, and you hated it.

“It’s not that I don’t want to testify, because knowing you, I will be subpoenaed into doing it anyway.”

“No,” he interrupted himself with a laugh, “wait yeah actually I probably would.”

“Yeah that would piss me off, but I understand you would be doing your job. I guess I am somewhat appreciative that you gave me a heads up on it.”

He nodded, taking your mumbled graciousness as a win. 

“What do you need me to do?”

He said nothing at first, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the small card with his business, name, phone number and address to said business on it.

“Are you busy tonight after work?”

You followed through, fingers accidentally brushing fingertips with him when accepting the card. The two of you ignored the pull acting up once more. For some reason it felt better to not point it out. You shook your head in response, a small smile filling his lips as he was happy that he didn’t have to fight to get an answer he wanted.

“Great, swing past when you’re done here and we can move forward in your portion of the case.”

No reply was needed as he walked in a separate direction from yours, brain spinning once more as you sat down at your desk. It didn’t take long for your best friend to creep up on you and your rookie’s shared desk. An unwipeable smirk plastered his face as the two of them planned to gang up on you. Unfortunately for them, their plan was spotted from a mile away.

“I don’t want to hear it,” you smoldered, raising a hand to both of their faces in an attempt to silence them.

“I’m not saying anything,” Felix fanned himself as he spoke, “but the tension is hot hot hot.”

“Yeah I could feel it from-”

“Hyunjin, if you say one more word that contributes to this conversation I will write you up. Don’t forget I do daily evaluations on you.”

Hyunjin shrank back into his seat, a small ‘yes ma'am’ before he was back to focusing on his paperwork.

“He’s so into you it’s crazy.”

A small energy of satisfaction sparked through your body at his words. It had to be a joke. Why was a small part of you excited if that was the case?

“He’s not into me,” you brushed off, a smile threatening to spill across your face, “I have to testify as a character witness in the trial for my T.O”

“He’s representing them?”

“A check is a check, and I hate to admit it, but Changbin is one of the best criminal defense lawyers in this country.”

You got up, checking your watch and realizing that there wasn’t long until you had to head over. Yes it was a bit early, but what was the harm in going home, showering, fixing your hair, putting on some makeup and getting out of uniform?

“Hey,” Felix yelled, grabbing you by the arm to stop you from leaving for the day, “where are you going?”

“I’m going to Changbin’s office to get this over and done with. Don’t say anything, I’m just going to prepare for court and that’s it.”

“Mhm,” he nodded, not knowing it was possible for an action to be so sarcastic, “I’m sure it is.”

A frustrated scoff left your lips as you continued to go to the door. Felix was wrong, and you were determined to prove that his implications were false and just simply not the case at all. But not even you could convince yourself that Felix is wrong. Part of you didnt want him to be wrong, but the other part of you just wanted this to be in your past, and getting over and done with seemed like the first step in doing so.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“That isn’t much!”

**

You took a deep breath as your car parked. One more look at your appearance in the rearview mirror and you were good to go. You kept your outfit simple, jeans and a thin white long sleeve shirt with a small black leather jacket to accompany and counter the recent cold weather. Your hair was down, natural. The intention behind it was that it was a change. A calming nature and contrast to what he usually saw when at the precinct. The normal was hair slicked back in a bun as it was protocol to make sure all hair was out of your face, definitely not wanting your hair to obstruct any view while in pursuit.

The door was large, revolving, leaving you almost caught in between. The area was spacious, impressive, and looked like a big firm. You knew the other lawyers there, but not well enough to know by name. None of them were as much of a hassle as Changbin was. The guy at the reception looked concentrated yet approachable, giving you no trouble as his attention turned to you once your approach at the desk was certain.

“Hi, how are you today?”

“I’m great thanks,” you smiled, a sudden streak of nerves enticing your body, “I’m here for an appointment with Mr. Seo.”

It took a few clicks on his computer before he realized who you were.

“Ah, you must be officer Y/l/n. You really do a number on lawyer Seo hey?”

Your eyebrows furrowed in a polite way, “I do?”

“Every time he comes back from the station, and he’s spoken to you, it’s all he talks about.”

“And I’m going to fire you for saying false information like that.”

Your head snapped at his voice, smooth as honey, and fake, when talking to the receptionist. He shrugged, chuckling because he knew that Changbin had been completely caught; but he was too swift, and stubborn, to admit that it was true. His eyes, as per usual, were fixated up and down, moving back and forth as they glued to your figure, an extra second spent too long before he made eye contact with you. Changbin put a hand out, in invitation to lead you down the rather long hallway to his office. The room was nice. Marble desk, swirly chair, off white walls; if you ever had your own office, you would want it to look exactly like this. 

Changbin closed the door behind you, showing you to your chair as he stood behind it, patiently waiting for you to sit down. He lingered behind, thumbs grazing the clothed skin of your shoulder as he looked down over your head while taking your jacket off and pacing it behind your chair, easy access to your chest. You rolled your eyes; perv. His proximity made you nervous, and you didn’t know why, but that familiar gravitational pull was something you very much liked to deny from a cognitive perspective.

“So Ms. y/l/n, y/n, can I call you that?”

“Sure,” you replied sarcastically, looking down at your fingers, fidgeting as you became more restless the longer he took to reply, forcing the two of you to sit in silence. God this was uncomfortable. Why was he dragging this out? Every second was torture for you. This was supposed to be one and done. Go to court and never have to work with this prick or to never see your T.O again. If anything it was making you angry. He knew that this was painful for you, yet he refused to move ahead.

“Can we start?”

“Yes of course,” he nodded, maintaining a serious facial expression as he opened up his notebook on his desk, “do you have any questions before we start?”

“How long is this going to take?”

“As long as necessary.”

He paused, again, seeming to be for dramatic effect, “Is that going to be a problem?”

“No,” you gulped, the sound of his pen clicking immediately making you anxious, “of course not.”

Your replies to the next few questions were short, but not abnormal as they were very closed ended questions. Changbin fixed his posture every few seconds, forearms flexing through his shirt while writing down his notes. It was somewhat frustrating that you had to multitask on so many things at once. His questions, making sure you were giving correct information. The way he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows to free up his caged arms. The veins. His lips. The deep voice coming out. Recalling events. To say you were getting overwhelmed was an understatement. He noticed your change in demeanor as soon as he freed himself, and for once in naivety, the emotion he felt was concern. He put the pen down, noticing that you needed a break from the lack of eye contact you were giving him. Although he hated your guts for most of the time, he didn’t want you to perceive him as a monster. It was sensitive stuff; everyone has a special relationship with a T.O. They show you the rope of everything, and they are there for you after intense crime scenes. The partnership was sensitive, and for it to blow up in your face was a shock to the system. He knew better than to rub salt in the seeping wound.

“We can take a break if you want. Can I get you anything?”

Your head snapped back up, a fake smile plastered on your face in an attempt to be polite and hide the discomfort that was going over the case with a comb, as well as the shock from his failure to make fun of you for once.

“Water and a break would be great.”

Changbin nodded, getting up from his seat and walking over to the water cooler in his office. Neat, but definitely obnoxious and just a ruse to show off how much money he made. And to think you were giving him the benefit of the doubt. Your impatience, and frustration was growing with each moment. Placing the water cup in front of you, he resumed his seat, taking a nice long sip of his cool refreshment.

“Right, where were we?”

His eyebrows furrowed, a sign of concentration as he thought about his next line of questioning.

“How many more things do we need to go over?”

He smirked, “already keen to get out of here?”

“Well,” you scoffed, “it’s kind of something that I want to get over and done with.”

His jaw clenched, “well it’s not that simple.”

“Yeah I know that I-”

“I don’t think you do. See, it’s my duty to give him the best possible case as he is paying me big bucks to get him the best outcome possible.”

“Yeah we know how much you love money,” you mumbled under your breath.

“What was that?”

“No nothing,” you shook your head vigorously, “well no not nothing. I just said we know how much you love money, you can’t help but always flaunt it at the station.”

He chuckled at your sarcastic yet honest response.

“Let’s just continue so we can get this over with.”

A pit of relief panged in your chest at his words, Changbin now finally has the same mentality as you. His phone rang, but he denied, quickly, shocking you in disbelief. He noticed your change in appearance, unsure why you reacted the way you did.

“What’s that look?”

“No nothing, you just, I’ve never seen you decline a phone call before.”

He smirked, nothing else.

“What can I say? You’re a special client.”

“I am?”

He immediately regretted the implications of those words. He really should have thought before he spoke, because the sentiment went straight to your head. Your ears felt hot, and suddenly the gravitational pull was very much noticeable again. You shifted in your seat, leaning forward; why not have some fun with it? Maybe it would ease the uncomfort you were experiencing. The white top you wore was low cut, something that you failed to mention, and remember, but sparked your memory once Changbin’s eyes dropped immediately. All you were doing was leaning forward, grabbing your cup, and sloppily drinking, a few droplets ‘accidentally’ falling onto your shirt. The white material helped you push your rebellion across, which ultimately did the complete opposite for him. He was now the one shifting in his seat, comfort somewhat observable as it was his turn to avoid your gaze.

“Ok so were you part of the drug trafficking ring?”

The smug expression on your face dropped instantly.

“Obviously not.”

“Well how is it obvious?”

“Through the evidence?”

“The evidence,” he paused, smug in his own arrogance, “is not in your favor. You know he has tried to pin a lot of it on you, right?”

His words triggered something in you; something ugly. You got up out of your seat, walking around and standing over him. How dare he say that? Even if he was just saying it to get your reaction, it was, for you, crossing the line.

“That’s why I’m not the one who got arrested. What are you trying to imply?”

He turned in his chair, legs spread open in the biggest manspread known to man as he continued to smirk. Fuck, you should be mad. You should be fuming at his accusations, smugness, cockiness. What was he trying to imply? Changbin tricked you into thinking that you would be a character witness. Silly you for thinking he actually was capable of caring for you, making sure you didn't get thrown under the bus when persecuted.

“Nothing?,” he scoffed, feigning ignorance laced in his tone, “What’s your problem?”

Your laugh was loud, indicating that your frustration had reached its boiling point. That fucking question again.

 “My problem? What is yours? You walk into the precinct, act like you know everything and treat the officers with little to no respect, then you obstruct a detainment? What makes you think you are so entitled that you can just talk to everyone the way you want? And to top it off, you want to switch the charges and pin me, a rookie at the time, for the crimes committed?”

Your breath was raised high, out of breath from the absolute serving Seo Changbin just got from you. A huge weight lifted off of your chest, finally getting what had been lying on your chest for years off of it. He got up and walked around his desk and stood in front of you, very much in your personal space; with an unimpressed look to say the least. How dare you question his practice, his ability to prosecute and defend as a lawyer. It was, in his eyes, this most abhorrent thing a person could do, especially an authority figure of similar position. You were, however, too stubborn to back down, chest puffed and fists pumped up, nails digging into your palms to prevent yourself from doing something you would regret.

“You think you know me so well huh?”

“I think I do.”

“If you did then you would know I’m not trying to get you convicted. I’m doing the opposite?”

Yeah right.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Of course I don’t want you to be a part of this, I want you to be as far away.”

“Why would you say something like that then? Accusine me? Do you just never think before you speak?”

The pompous lawyer didn’t answer straight away. The continuous cycle of confusion, anger, lust on repeat was sending you into a headspin. You couldn't keep up, but at the time, you were beginning to find the root of the reason you felt that cursed gravitational pull towards the man in front of you. As soon as his voice softened, so did you. Digits by your sides as opposed to dug in your palms, shoulders relaxed. Changbin was also standing very close to you. It was the first time you truly were able to take in his features. Thick, slicked up hair, tiny strands that had obviously been styled in a certain way that trickled over his forehead. The textureless surface area of his skin, the darkness of his eyes, you could have sworn his pupils were dilated, the color becoming darker and darker the longer he looked at you. His lips were in a whole different ball game. Very pink, very big, the hyperfixation was instant. Your eyes flicked between his lips and his own gaze, leaving you completely unsure where to look. 

“I,” he sighed, pausing before making sure what he said came out the right way, “I don’t want you to get hurt. Fuck,” he paused again covering his face with his hands for a brief moment before standing even closer to you, “I want to make sure you’re okay and you don’t get caught in the crossfire.”

The atmosphere of the room had suddenly changed again, and now, you could not keep your eyes off of the pompous lawyer. He was pulling you in this time, hard, but contrary to the other times you experienced a similar sensation, you were finding it really difficult to find a way out.

“So rather than criticizing me, help me. Help me get through this how you would if you were me.”

The telekinesis was impactful, and no scientific theory or rationale could explain what followed, because the next thing you remembered was Changbin’s grip on your hips, pushing you forcefully to sit on the edge of his desk as he leaned forward and crashed his lips against yours. The energy was magnetic, and the normal part of you was saying what is happening right now, you should pull away, and you had the thought to do so.

But it’s merely a thought that flies into your consciousness then back into the unconsciousness. His lips felt too good, hands now gripping your face as his tongue entered your mouth. The kiss was slow, the intention to envelop him, take in as much as possible. His movements were delicate, yet simultaneously precise as his hands traveled to your behind, grabbing as much ass as possible, breaking away before whispering a quick ‘wrap your legs around me’ and lifting you up, pinning you against the back of his office door. It did slip in your mind for a brief moment that you were in a public setting and not the luxury of your home. It was just that however, like the others, a passing thought as his hips pinned you against the wooden frame, fingertips soothingly soaring against the sides of your torso as he lips left your own, littering across your jaw, up to your ear lobe, a thick stripe of the pomppus lawyer’s DNA coating the skin from the base of your neck to the tip of your ear lobe. There was nothing organized about the movements that occurred, partly because the navigation was unclear and he wasn’t a usual partner. But the main rationale was the increasing desperation that filled the tiny, gaping air that was closed each moment your lips moved in unison. As soon as his hands gripped your body, traveling down your sides and back to your ass; god he loved your ass. 

Whether he would admit it or not, his mind went crazy everytime you walked away from him, mad or not. Conversation or no interaction at all. Changbin always wanted to see it, feel it, the texture of how the skin would feel in his hands, clothed or unclothed; he didn’t give a fuck. Changbin was grateful if there was any time in his life that he would get to experience it, and it was blowing his mind that it was happening. But, in the grace of it all, he was too stubborn, as per usual, to show that he wasn’t freaking out that this was actually happening. He wanted to be cool in front of you. He would rather get hit by a bus than admit that the feelings he had for you were something that were there every time he laid his eyes on you.

You could feel the subtle hard on across your groin, a gentle gasp escaping your lips and falling into his mouth as he acknowledged your reaction, gently grinding his hips against you, the friction only making your hornier as he pulled away, your hands leaching onto the buckle of his pants, the desperation clouding your efficacy to take it off in one swift motion. Changbin chuckled as he pulled away, unable to smirk as he was too desperate to worry about the lack of skill. His pants were off, and now it was your turn for a piece of clothing to be removed; and he wasn’t swift either. 

Fuck buttons and belts, buckles, zippers, anything that was put on clothes which, for you to in this moment, seemed to only be put onto clothing to makes things more difficult. Changbin was able to undo the zipper and button on your jeans, helping the thick material pool at your ankles before he dropped to his knees for a brief moment to lift your ankles to help you discard them completely. Both pairs of bottoms were in a pile on the floor mixed together, maybe a metaphor for what was about to happen. Changbin’s jacket was easy to take off, and he cared too little to be meticulous with a basic white dress shirt, biceps bugling barely as he effortlessly ripped his shirt, the noise of the buttons hitting the hard surfaces of the office, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. His chest was heavy, pecs already 4 dimensional on his chest but Changbin needed no time as he was just too fucking hungry for you. Yearning, lusting, you name it. Changbin being out of breath was such a barrier to pick you up again, your back now lying against the contrasting cool surface of the marble desk as he hovered over you, another sensual kiss against your lips as his trails extended. 

“Fuck,” he growled, primal like, “you have too many fucking clothes on.”

An annoyed sigh left your lips, “well that’s not my fault is it.”

He ignored your attitude. Changbin wanted to just rip it off, but he knew better than to let you leave with the clothing you did not come in with. His hands were now swift, wanting to focus on nothing else but your naked body. Changbin bit down on his bottom lip when he noticed your lack of chest undergarment. 

“Did you do that on purpose?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Jesus,” he paused, an extended trail of kisses descending down your body, past your neck, lingering on your chest, a quick flick of the nipples with his tongue that involuntarily made your back arch as he continued, eyebrows furrowed with concentration as he got to your panties. Your breath hitched a little when he got there, teeth teetering on the edge as he pulled them down, legs straight and the gentle bumpy texture of his teeth dancing across your legs as he finally got off the last obstacle of clothing. Changbin couldn’t help but bring a hand to his length as he gently palmed himself, completely mesmerized and aroused out of control at the current view he was looking at you. The temperature of your face was immediately as his eyes ogled over your very naked body. Fuck. It was so hot to see him like this. Speechless, no comebacks. You could tell that he wasn’t thinking much, which oddly turned you on so much. It was something you truly were not used to. 

“Stand up for me.”

The four words came out of mouth abruptly, switching positions as he sat down, practically drooling as your ass moved with each step, titties bouncing in unison with each movement. All he could think about was how hard they bounced if you were on top of him. How easily he’d be able to move his hands with your ass as you rode him, took him from behind. His mind was racing even more, and now he was back at square one: too overwhelmed and much too aroused to form a comprehensive thought of what to do to you.

“You’re so different.” you whispered, not wanting to catch him off guard.

“I am?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, heavy, hands beginning to roam across your waist, breathing through slightly gritted teeth, “usually you have so much to say.”

His gaze was so lustful, heavy, you couldn’t help but touch yourself. Your fingers attached to your left hand traced along your inner thigh, legs gently shuddering. If you were being honest, it kind of scared you how much something as simple as a stare could do to you. Your index and middle finger traced along your pussy lips, a desperate moan escaping your lips when the tip of your digit accidentally brushed the bareity of your clit. You thought you could handle the game; you usually did. But this was the straw that broke the camel’s back, and there was no going back after this.

Changbin was also desperate, scrolling forward on his chair and reaching for your hips, steadying himself before his palms separated. One had pitching your left nipple and the other sliding on either side of your core, pussy lips trying to escape his digits. It was easy for him, seeing as your core was already a slip n’ slide, fingers practically begging and soaking up any sense of friction they could get.

“Stop teasing,” you gritted, small hitches in your wind at each possible moment of touch.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, adjusting his fingers without warning, tips attaching to the nub like a magnetic force. A much larger, breathier moan falls from the tight crevice that is your lips as Changbin gets closer to your torso, mouth latching onto the previously excluded nipple. The lawyer execution wasn’t perfect, and if this was the third or fourth time the two of you had been intimate, it most likely wouldn’t have felt as good.

At that stage, however, things were different. The tension from the lack of physical intimacy was the sole reason his fingers felt so good. This may, in the present moment be due to the short circuiting of your brain from the man’s fingers and lips, feel like something that just sparked out of the blue. Random. Out of nowhere; but anyone could tell that that was nothing but a crock of shit.

This was a culmination of all the times you disagreed, agreed, yelled, whispered, cared, lusted, hated, liked, loved? Even the way you looked at him when he would walk into that precinct with his very tight suits and heavy briefcases. The times Felix would nudge you to keep it down when the two of you would argue in front of the other officers, even the sergeant. The more you argued, the more care there was, even if it was illustrated as hatred. The opposite of hatred is indifference, not love, and there was nothing indifferent about the situation you found yourself to be in. 

Changbin couldn’t think straight. There were times he thought about it too. Whether it was when he woke up in the morning, preparing a case of a perpetrator that you arrested. He felt like an idiot, because all he wanted to do now was touch you. There was no instruction, no structure to how he was doing it, just rubbing your clit and sucking on your nipples, teething the hardened nubs was the way to go. Changbin thought he would have so much more composure, but the moment your clothes were discarded was the moment he knew he was in trouble, because the images he visualized in his head were not even closer than how sexy he imagined you to be.

“Mhmmm,” you hummed, hips forming a gentle rhythm on his digits, your own hand running up and down his arm soothingly, “feels so good.”

“Yeah you like it?”

“Yes I-oh my god.”

You interrupted your own sentence when you found two of his fingers at your entrance. Slow, calloused textured fingers scratching your walls as he began to pump. He stood up simultaneously, slightly bent over to make sure that his fingers would remain consistent in depth while adjusting to the height difference. His thumb that belonged to the same hand reamiend on then sensitive numb, the three fingers creating a collective come hither motion. You took a few steps back, finding stability in the wooden cabinet behind you as Changbin’s fingers picked up in pace. He was still a cognitive mess, no craft to his skill, but it seemed to be more than fine for you. He analyzed your behavior. Lids fluttering on the brink of shutting, jaw slightly agape with sinful moans and groans disclosed, and your left hand groping your own breast.

On the contrary, you were just as overwhelmed, unable to speak, those unorganized noises the only indication of how his fingers were making you feel. Fuck, you were already so sensitive, and the fact that he was already hitting the fleshy mound inside your pussy with his fingers only aroused you tenfold, knowing that his cock would be just as effortless in doing so. Your eyes wanted to roll, reach the back of your head. You never knew that something so simple as someone’s fingers could make you feel this good. Your hips spasmed, walls already clenching around him as you knew that you were getting close.

“Shit,” Changbin groaned, that god awful yet fucking sexy smirk appearing, “you’re close, aren’t you?”

“No,” you mumbled, not wanting him to give you the satisfaction of knowing he made you feel like pure heaven, “b-barely.”

You could feel his hard on pressed against the top of our leg, itching at your hip bone which gave you the idea to take the heat off of you for a moment. Yes, it was like walking into the gates of hell to give him the gratification that he was bringing you to orgasm, but really, it was because you didn’t want it to stop. If you could have just stopped lying to yourself about how much arguing with this man turned you on, that you could have been in this predicament much earlier. Then again, maybe if it did happen earlier, the arousal of his simple touch wouldn’t impact you as much, and that would be no fun, would it? 

Your hands, for the first time tonight, began to travel, snaking past his arms and right to where he wanted you. Changbin hissed, lips pressed against the side of your face as a deep groan bellowed from his chest.

“Fuck,” he hissed, the gentle grating of your hand against his clothed crotch taking him by surprise. You too, were in surprise at how big he felt. The visual was one thing, but you were always one for tactile senses. Your thumb slipped over the tip, the brief wetness that you assumed to be his precum easily felt. The muscles in your legs were getting tighter and tighter, and it was proving that rubbing Changbin’s cock wasnt enough to distract him from making you cum.

“Fuck I’m really c-close,” you whine, the pompous lawyer covering your mouth to prevent the crescendo of your voice project outside the 4 walls. He withdrew his fingers from your words, your bodies falling slightly limp and weary at the way you already were craving him, orgasm that was on the brim very cruel. Your hips were gripped once more, placing you to sit atop of his desk and he made no hesitation to slip his boxers off and let his cock spring free of what, to him, was torture. A very obvious gas came from your lips, still taken aback of how girthy he was. A nervous gulp followed, unsure if he would be able to fit. He could see the expression of concern. His hands cupped your cheeks, pressing another gentle kiss before they traveled back to his favorite spot, your hips.

“It’s ok,” he whispered, running his thumbs in a forgiving fashion against your hip bones, “just tell me to stop if you want to. I won’t be mad.”

You looked shyly into his eyes, nodding as you grabbed him by the base of his cock. A deep breath hollowed from hips at how your hands felt on him. God he had dreamed of this so many times. He would fixate on them every time he walked into the precinct. How such delicate hands could do such filthy things; it truly turned him on so much. The complexity of your character did too. You weren’t like other people that he had the pleasure of interacting with. No book that you could read by its cover. It was impossible, but maybe that's why he felt so drawn to you. He liked a challenge. He was a lawyer after all, and as much as he fantasized, unconsciously, about how you would look in such sinful positions, he was still able to simultaneously appreciate you and your character from afar, even when his presence wasn’t always appreciated by you in return. 

“Your hands,” he chuckled, almost sounding nervous, “they feel so good.”

It was finally YOUR turn to smirk, getting him where you wanted him. Although you liked to do nothing more than torture him, a guilt would rise in your chest and you know it. By this point, it was obvious that both of you pined for each other, so the games of taunting and teasing, mind fucking were irrelevant, unnecessary. The main thing that you wanted was to get your brains fucked out, and Changbin wanted nothing more than to give that to you. You took your hand away, allowing the man himself to line up with your hole, before gently prodding at the entrance, effortlessly and to your surprise plunging his cock into your pussy. It was a loud noise, the squelch of your highly aroused cunt leaving the pompous lawyer's cock sucked in like a vacuum. Your arms, without thought, wrapped around Changbin’s neck, pulling him closer to truly feel as much of him as you could. 

“Jesus fuck,’ he chuckled, beinging to pull out slowly, “this is the juiciest pussy I’ve ever fucked.”

The sentence made you moan, hips wiggling to keep as much of his length inside of you as he gently moved back and forth. If anyone else spoke like this to you, the next action would most likely be a slap in the face. Compliment or not, it was so hot the way Changbin’s words fell from his lips without thought. Even when the two of you shared heated discussions it was the same. Words, harsh, soft, anything he said was without thought. But this moment was when you liked it best, because as he continued to pull in and out of you, the corrupt compliments just continued to spell out, belongings beginning to fall off his desk with each thrust. It was usually something you hated, but maybe now, you could manipulate it to your own benefit.

“Jesus christ,” he continued to repeat over and over, hands gripping your ass as he used your body to grind into you, “I love how wet your pussy is for me.”

“Me too baby,” you moaned back, unable to help yourself, “I never knew it could get this wet.”

“Only for me,” he growled, partly out of breath, “this pussy belongs to me.”

There was no point in even refuting what he said. If he was going to make it scream like this every time he was near it from now on, he can have it. No one had ever made you feel this good. Electricity was flying the longer his skin made contact with yours. Maybe it was partly hallucinations from your sex brain, but you didn't care, nothing would ever equate to this, and no one could ever have such a pull on you than the man in front of you. Changbin had acquired some confidence, because he began to move with much vigor, cock feeling harder and harder the longer he was inside of you. It didn’t take long for him to find the previous spot that he was able to hit with his fingers, your eyes almost popping out of your head when he did, your own hand coming to your mouth and biting on your fingernails as he did, a poor attempt to suppress the roaring sounds that cut down from your lips, surely enough to alert whoever else was in the building. It took him a matter of milliseconds for him to notice, a hand leaving your body and clasping your wrist, forcing you to straighten your fingers as he pushed them inside your mouth. It was now his turn for his eyes to bulge out of his head, a whole new level of turned on as he watched each knuckle on the two of your fingers disappearing past your lips. He stood still, forgetting about his cock and fixating on nothing but the way your fingers were coated heavily from such a simple action

“Fuck me,” he scoffed, “I didn’t think you could get any sexier.”

Your eyes ogled as you looked up at him, lips forming into a pour around your tips as they withdrew from your mouth. Before you even had the chance, Changbin was already redirecting your fingers to your own core, spreading your pussy lips far as your fingers dragged to them, a teeth gritted sigh coming from the pompous lawyer as he picked up his pace. All he could do was stare, solely focused on how your center got wetter and wetter. The way your pussy hole was now clenching and double the pleasure from tow spots. Fuck, he didn’t care about his own pleasure, because all he could think was how magical your pussy was. 

You were so hot and bothered by the way Changbin’s mouth dropped when he watched you flick your own clit, fingers brushing the base of cock once every few thursts as he continued to fuck you out of your mind relentlessly. 

“Oh god,” you whined, not even caring about how loud the combination of sounds must have been to one walking by, “so fucking good.”

“I fucking bet,” he chuckled, tongue slipping over his tongue lip, “if you’re pussy keeps getting wetter I won’t be able to help myself.”

“Fuck, what do you mean?”

He suddenly picks up his pace to an all time speed, unable to control himself physically and verbally.

“I’ll have no choice,” he grunts, using all of his might to bury his cock inside of you, “I’ll have to cum in you.”

Oh no. This is bad. Changbin doesn’t know this, but he's unlocked one of your deepest rooted desires. You immediately attack his lips as soon as his sentence concludes, not wanting him to say anything else. You knew it was bad, but there is no way you would ever say no to letting him fill you to the brim.

“Do it,” you whispered, forehead meeting as your gaze fixed on him, “cum in me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes baby, fill me up with your load.”

“Oh fuck,” he wined, his first high pitch of the night, “whatever you want.”

Your hips inched off his desk, giving him easier access to control you, giving yourself up to him in every way possible. Holy fuck were you about to bust yourself at any minute. Seeing the longing want and need to finish in you being an option was driving him wild.

“Oh my god Y/n,” he whispered, “I can’t hold it back any longer.”

“That’s okay baby just do it.”

“Do it?”

“Cum in me,” you whined, “I know you filling me up will make me cum so hard.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah baby do it.”

“I’ll cum in you.”

“Yeah cum in me.”

The back and forth with no room to breath in between was spilling you over the edge, and so was it for Changbin. His face was contorting more and more with each second, knowing he was going to blow his load any minute.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” he continued to whine, unable to look anywhere else except your gaze before finally reach his high, pulling himself out completely except for tip, able to watch the way each load blew straight into your pussy. A heavy breath filled your lungs as the warmth of his seed tipped over the edge, hips bucking uncontrollably as it dribbled out, Changbin also spasming before gently pushing himself back in, the two of you using each other to ride out the peak of your orgasms. 

Your chest heaved simultaneously, the sounds of such heavy breaths the only noise filling the room as he pulled out, the motion causing you to whimper and already crave his touch once again. Changbin looked around, finding the box of tissues that fell off of his desk in the midst of things, cleaning the trail of his remains that was currently spilling down your leg. A small giggle erupted from your lips as you watched his aim with such delicacy and poise.

“What?” He smiled.

“Nothing,” you smiled in return, his grin becoming infectious, “I’ve just never seen you move so carefully before.”

“Hey I can be gentle!”

“Can you though?”

You pointed at your hips, already discolored in light shades of purple. He ignored your gesture, rolling his eyes as he grabbed the pile of clothes that was once an obstacle, handing it back with much of a haste. 

“We still have to work on the case, you know.”

“We can’t make another appointment?”

“Well no because I think 85% of the office would have heard that and it would look very suspicious if you just left.”

“I don’t think it matter if they heard, they’re still gonna know we fucked.”

“Jesus christ y/n,” he scoffed, “don’t fucking start with me now.”

“What?”

“You’re driving me crazy.”

“How?”

“The more you argue with me, the more I want to fuck you over and over again.”

[daechwitatamic]

Of Ruin: Chapter 6 || KTH

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Of Ruin (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni Genre: vampire!au magic!au royalty!au, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut, angst and fluff

Summary: Taehyung of House Rune, Prince of Infracticus has been cursed. You’re the human world’s leading curse-breaker. It should be simple. But unraveling the curse becomes the least of your problems in the face of a world on the brink of civil war… and the love you start to feel for the prince.

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @/sailoryooons for betaing!!! 💕

//

Section Warnings: angst, hurt feelings, conflicts abound

wc: 6k

True to his word, Prince Taehyung shows up at your door about an hour after you and Namjoon clean up dinner. 

After your self-pity-nap, you’d showered and come out fresh. You’d ordered hot tea and buckled down to work, starting to make your way through the thick texts you’d brought from the university, looking for counters that might be relevant to this case. 

So, luckily, instead of a puffy-eyed, half-asleep wreck, the prince finds you clean, and caffeinated, and hard at work. Your image remains intact. Hooray for small victories, you think.

“I know your day hasn’t been ideal,” he says sheepishly, hands clasped behind his back. “Do you think a visit to Potato might make you feel better?”

Cute, you think. 

“Potato?” Namjoon asks, baffled.

“His amarisca,” you explain. “I sort of fell in love yesterday.”

Your face heats as soon as you’ve said the words; you hope they both know that you mean with Potato, that it’s not a reference to your illogical, absurd, and frankly embarrassing crush on the beautiful, otherworldly prince. Luckily, it seems both men are oblivious to your near misstep.

“You’re welcome to come, too,” the prince offers, turning to Namjoon. “I was just going to walk to my private stables and give her - Potato - some treats. I thought…” he trails off, eyes on your face, like he’s gauging your reaction. “I thought maybe Y/N might benefit from the walk and the fresh air. But of course you’re welcome, too.”

Namjoon’s face goes funny, like he’s doing those puzzle pieces again. “Thank you,” he says slowly, looking at you, not the prince. “But I’ll stay here. I can finish up writing what we were discussing. I agree, the walk will do you good.”

You want to snap at both of them, you don’t know what’s good for me, but you know they don’t deserve it. And you do want to see the amarisca again. 

“Let me get shoes,” you murmur, and head for your room. You return with sneakers in hand and in a thicker sweatshirt; the sun has been down for some time and you know the sea air will be chilly. 

Prince Taehyung leads you the same way he had the previous night, both in cloaks that you hadn’t noticed him holding until he handed one to you. You clock that Sateul trails you at a respectable distance - close enough to see you, too far to hear you, if she was human. Probably, since she’s not, she can hear every word. 

“This feels like a pity walk,” you admit a bit sourly.

Prince Taehyung gives you an indulgent smile. “I feel like you got hit twice today,” he says. “First, my mother frightens you, and then… it can’t have been easy to find out… what you did. That, combined with your little accident the other night… I honestly can’t believe you haven’t packed up to leave already.”

“I thought about it,” you say dryly. But the truth is, you want to work on the curse. You want to see more of the palace, of Infracticus. You want to spend more time with the prince.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” he says quietly. 

You wonder if it’s only because he needs you to break his curse. A foolish thought, one that has no place amidst everything else swirling around your head. But still, the thought persists. 

Outside, the fresh air soothes you immediately, the temperature is just right, and you can hear the waves and the gulls in the distance. You do feel better, just walking silently side by side. The tension melts from your shoulders, tiny bits at a time.

“This is nice.”

“I’m not such terrible company after all?” he teases, a mischievous smile growing sideways across his face.

You scowl at him playfully. “It wasn’t about you. Today… really sucked. Sorry. But, I think I wanted to just retreat to my space and sulk for a while.”

He takes this in silently for a few strides and then offers, quietly, “I’m sorry again about my mother. I know my promises can’t mean much to you at this point, but her intentions weren’t to hurt you. She felt your magical signature - we all can - and was just curious. She wanted to know how strong it was. She’s… used to just taking what she wants, as I’m sure you can imagine. It didn’t occur to her that it might be frightening or unpleasant to you. I know that’s no excuse, but I hope you’ll forgive us.”

You listen seriously. You’ll forgive him, you think, if only because he is so damn earnest, and his skin looks pretty in the moonlight. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, which isn’t an answer, but he lets it slide. Your magical signature. You hadn’t even known you’d had that. You still don’t know what exactly it means.

You walk together a little further, your footsteps joining the shrill gull calls.

Eventually, Taehyung’s stride slows, and he leans his elbows against the stone balustrade, looking wistfully up at the deep purple sky. The periwinkles and violets of the early afternoon have faded to a deep mottled purple, the color of a third-day bruise. You can see that you’re very close to the staircase he’d helped you down the previous night, the ones that lead down to the sand.

The stars literally take your breath away. Taehyung turns to you, grinning.

“Better than above, right?” he asks, pride evident in his tone. 

“There are so many,” you whisper, eyes scanning the sky above you. It seems like every time you look away from a spot and then back to it, the number of stars doubles.

You stand side by side in silence, both leaning on the stone wall, eyes on the stars far above you. Finally, Prince Taehyung turns to look at you, frowning just slightly.

“May I ask you something?” he ventures. “I don’t want to upset you… but I’m curious.”

You smile a little wryly at the irony of this admission. You see the pattern from the Queen earlier to the prince now - admitting he may upset you, but entitled to the answer anyway. At least he has the decency to ask first.

“Go ahead,” you tell him. You’re feeling less on edge out here under the stars, with the cool breeze and ocean’s song. Whatever it is, you’ll face it.

“You really didn’t know?” There’s clear disbelief in his voice. Then, he clarifies, “About your magic.”

You shake your head, a stone skipping and sinking heavy in your stomach. “Had no idea,” you say with a sigh. “I really thought… I really thought I earned being good at breaking curses. I thought it was hard work, grit, that kind of thing.”

Understanding dawns on the prince’s face. “Ah,” he says, and then says nothing else.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Ah, what?”

He gives you a guilty smile. “I didn’t understand why you were upset. I imagined any human would be excited to learn that they were… more, that they had more.”

You eye him stonily. “Being human,” you say evenly, “is enough. It isn’t less.”

His eyes widen comically. “No,” he says quickly, waving his hands between you. “I didn’t mean that. It came out wrong. I just meant -”

“I know what you meant,” you mutter. “No, I wasn’t excited to learn that I’m… I don’t even know what to call myself now.”

He presses his lips together and regards you silently. Then, he says tentatively, “Your accomplishments are not erased by this, you know.”

You look sideways at him, listening. 

“Having a natural magical ability doesn’t mean you didn’t work hard. Your magic is inherent in you the same way your strong will is, your natural intelligence. They are facets of what makes up who you are. How you wield these things - that’s how you earn your accomplishments. You should not discount it.”

“I guess,” you mutter, but secretly, you consider this. “It’s just going to take some getting used to, I think.”

The prince seems to sense that there’s nothing more to gain from pursuing this topic. He starts towards the steps, helping you down as he had the night before. 

At the stable, he places a carrot in your outstretched hand, smiles wide when you let Potato eat it from your flat fingers, her lips tickling your palm. When you press your other hand gently to her snout, her fur soft and warm under your hand, it doesn’t feel like losing a dream, as you’d feared. It feels like stepping into it. Prince Taehyung watches you, eyes twinkling the whole time. 

After, you stand at the fence that creates a paddock in the sea, meant to let Potato swim but not too far. The waves crash just feet from you, and you worry absently about your shoes. 

Prince Taehyung leans his elbows on the fence next to you. “How was it going, before I interrupted? I could see that you were working.”

You shrug. “I feel like we’re near the end of what we can do with the information we have. Unless you let me observe you while the curse is working -”

He glowers. “I gave you my answer about that already,” he says tightly.

“- or unless I run some rituals with you… there’s not more to find. We’ve got all we can from the texts we brought, too.”

This makes him look at you, something sharp in his gaze. “Do you need to research more?” he asks, tone lightening, like he’s excited to help. “We have a dozen libraries in the palace - I never spend much time there, but I’m sure you’d find something helpful.”

This makes you smile a little. “I can’t imagine being alive for hundreds of years and not using it to read everything I could get my hands on.”

He laughs at this, nose wrinkling as he says defensively, “I have other interests!” As his chuckles die away again he adds, “Reading puts me to sleep. I never get past the first page.”

“What do you do instead?” you ask, genuinely curious. 

His grin turns a bit self-deprecating. “Eat, drink, and make merry,” he jokes. 

“Seriously!” you scold.

“I mostly am being serious,” he admits. “I socialize. I dance. I’m fond of music - I play many instruments. Sometimes I look at art, sometimes I try to make my own. I have duties as Prince, of course, but generally I find them interesting. I spend my time quite happily.” His expression turns a bit darker and he adds, “Or, I did. Until this.”

You look at him carefully for the first time since you’d first arrived. You’ve only known this version of him - tight-shouldered, a bit serious. You wonder if he was different before the curse - freer, lighter, happier. You imagine he must have been.

“We’ll fix it,” you promise, though you have no guarantee you’ll keep it. Going back to his original question, you add, “I’d like to see the libraries, if we could. A lot of curse-breaking is looking at precedents, seeing what’s worked before.”

“What exactly are you looking for?” he asks. “I don’t know much about the process, to be honest.”

You grimace. “I probably should have explained it to you better from the start. Like I said yesterday - my first step is to uncover each thread of intention in the original curse. Then when you’ve identified every thread, it’s kind of a game of finding the simplest, shortest amount of steps to counter them. Then, of course, actually casting it correctly can be challenging, too.” 

He’s quiet for a long time, and after a bit of silence - broken only by the crash of waves - you reach out and gingerly rest your fingertips atop his forearm. Like yesterday, when he’d held your hand down the steps, you thrill at the touch.

“They called me for a reason,” you tell him seriously. “I’ve never failed. Sometimes it takes me a while, and sometimes I have to try more than once - but I’ve never not been able to work it out, eventually.”

He doesn’t say anything, but you watch his throat work as he keeps his eyes on the distant horizon. 

“We’ll fix it,” you say again, more determination in your voice this time. “I’ll fix it. Okay?”

Eventually, he sighs and places his other hand on yours, covering it completely. “I have faith in you,” he says, something open in his voice. Like you’ve struggled through the underbrush in the woods and stumbled across a path, the way forward suddenly clear. “I trust you.”

You stay like that a bit longer, acutely aware of his hand on yours, until he sighs and withdraws it, casting a baleful look at the palace above and behind you. “It’s nearing midnight,” he says sadly. “I’d better get to where I belong.”

“Can someone walk me back to my quarters?” you ask, a little embarrassed. “I don’t know the way.”

He furrows his brow at you and reaches for your hand. “Someone?” he repeats, as if offended. “I’m walking you back.”

As if you should have known. As if there were any other option he’d accept.

You aren’t sure what’s happening here. You aren’t sure the purpose of it, the sense of it. But his wavy hair hangs over his browline, his deep eyes are on your face, and that hint of a smile flirts in the corner of his mouth as he waits for you. So you put your hand in his and let him lead you home.

—

In the morning, when Sateul comes to collect the dishes from breakfast, she informs you, “Prince Taehyung has asked me to accompany you to one of the private libraries today.”

You get ready quickly, though Satuel waits patiently outside your doors, at attention. The walk to the libraries is longer than the ones you’ve been accustomed to, and you notice you’re mostly headed up. In fact, the journey ends with a spiral staircase that almost gives you vertigo; you hold the wall gingerly as you take each step carefully. 

This particular library must be at the top of a turret. The view from the windows, peeking between bookshelves, is so phenomenal that you almost forget about your research. 

“I’ll be at the bottom of this staircase,” Satuel tells you. “Please call if you need something.”

“I need an ice bath,” you grumble, massaging your aching calves. Beside you, Namjoon shoots you a sympathetic smile. 

You spend the whole day there, perusing the bookshelves, pulling out tomes that might prove useful. Satuel brings you lunch at midday, and shortly after the three of you trek halfway across the palace to the nearest bathroom, just to go right back up those same damn stairs when you’re done.

But it’s worth it; it takes all three of you to carry back the books you and Namjoon select, about an hour before dinner will be served.

When you drop the books gently onto the low table in your quarters, Satuel heads back to her post in the corridor, and you and Namjoon look down at your haul.

“Not bad,” you muse. 

You settle in, picking up books at random and flipping through to find parts that might be relevant, scanning indexes. When dinner time rolls around, you both put in your order, stopping to eat when the food comes, and then getting right back to work. 

Somehow, you aren’t surprised when the prince arrives at your doors, even though he hadn’t promised to come by, not like yesterday. 

“I was going to ask if you made it to the libraries,” he says, smiling wryly, “but I can see that you have.”

You can’t help it - you beam. “I want to live up there.”

His smile turns into something playful. “That’s what you said about the seaside, too.”

You consider this. “I would like my seaside home to have a turret library,” you finally declare. 

“I’ll work on it,” he teases. Behind you, Namjoon quietly closes the book he was looking through. 

“Anyway,” Prince Taehyung says, clearing his throat a little. “Was it fruitful? Are they helpful?”

“I think so,” you say, looking at Namjoon for confirmation. “We’re working through the books we found, writing down the parts that are useful. It’ll take a while, though. We found a lot.”

“Good,” he says, nodding. “Good. I’m glad you’re making progress.”

You think of his silence by the ocean last night, how you’d felt the need to protect him, to reassure him. 

“We are,” you say solidly. 

He looks at you, tilts his head just slightly. “Can you afford to take a break? I was going to the stable. Namjoon, as always, you are more than welcome. You haven’t seen the amarisca up close, have you?”

“I haven’t,” Namjoon admits. “But I hate to say, I’m not as drawn to magical creatures as Y/N clearly is.”

You press your lips together, wondering if he’s including the prince in that list of magical creatures. 

“I’d like to go,” you venture timidly. 

You feel a little guilty - this isn’t part of the job, it’s adding nothing to your research, you’re leaving Namjoon behind and he’s looking at you with that knowing gleam in his eyes. 

But when you get outside the palace and look at the stars and smell the ocean, and Prince Taehyung holds your hand tightly as you make your way down sea-worn, stone steps… it makes all the bad parts quieter. The fear, the uncertainty, the homesickness, the grief you’ve experienced over the last few days… they don’t seem to cut as deeply when his brown eyes find yours. 

And as long as you don’t let yourself think too much about how pointless that is, how he’s crown prince of a land that’s not your home and you’re a nobody from a tiny university town… as long as you don’t think about that… the distraction is nice. 

This time, when he leads you down the stairs, his hand feels familiar and right as it closes around yours. 

You press a hand gently to the amarisca’s muscly, teal neck, stroking the soft fur there. Prince Taehyung puts his hand atop yours, guiding it down her neck and to the top again, his body pressed close behind yours. You look over your shoulder at him in wonder, and the smile he gives you seems tinged with a sadness that you don’t understand at all.

This time, on the way back, you stop and stare at the stars, and he leans close, close enough that your arms touch as you both look skyward. 

This time, as he leads you back up the damp stairs towards the palace, you tug on his hand.

“Why are you doing this?” you ask. Something in you aches to know the truth. “You don’t have to babysit me, you know. I learned my lesson the first day.”

“I told you,” he says, brow furrowing, “I’m invested in your well-being. If you’re unhappy enough to leave, then I’ll never get better.”

You don’t know if you believe him. You wish you would believe him. The alternative is just sad - you’re not stupid enough to think a six hundred year old Infracti with a crown on his head would be interested in a nothing human.

Focus, you think. Focus on why you’re here. 

When you return to your rooms, Namjoon looks half-asleep on the couch, the lights low.

“How was your field trip?” he asks, stretching and starting to rise. You realize he’d waited up for you. You’re not sure how you feel about this.

“I feel like I’m spinning in circles,” you admit. “Like I can’t remember what I’m really here for.”

“He’s charming,” Namjoon says carefully, pausing on his path to his bedroom.

You choose not to answer that. “We’ll get to work in the morning,” you say finally. “We’ll see what we can come up with, and we’ll work on getting home.”

You wait until Namjoon’s behind his bedroom door, and you bend down to rifle through the books you’d brought from the library until you find the one you’d hidden in with the others.

Beginner Spells and Magical Theory, something you’d never really studied. Something you’d never thought you needed. Something you hadn’t known was a part of you.

You take the book into your bedroom and sit on the edge of your bed holding it, but you don’t crack it open. Eventually, you slide it under your bed and head for the bathroom.

You’re not ready. Tonight is not the night.

-

Then, like a switch flipped, the prince stops coming to check on you. You don’t see Prince Taehyung - or any of the royal family - for the next two days. You and Namjoon stay in your rooms, books spread across the floor, papers on every surface. On the second day, Satuel takes you to the turret library, saying she has the prince’s permission to let you go there for a change of scenery. But he doesn’t come check in either night.

It’s the morning of the third day of solitude (well, solitude with Namjoon) when you roll dramatically over onto your back, the stone floor cool and solid beneath you, and bemoan to the wooden ceiling, “I think my brain is soup.”

“Soup sounds good,” Namjoon says from his spot about six feet away. Books are open in a full circle around him; he has no path out. It seems like an apt metaphor, you think.

“I’m going to be honest about something,” you say, eyes still on the ceiling. 

“When are you ever not?” he quips, but pushes the book he was reading a few inches away and turns to look at you, ready for whatever you’re going to drop on him.

“I think we have everything we’re going to have at this point,” you say, and then struggle to sit up so you can see his reaction. 

He frowns at you. “Why does that not sound the same as I think we’re ready?”

You sigh. “I don’t think we’re ready. I don’t think we have everything. But as far as asking the prince questions and researching what we have… I think this is it. We aren’t getting any further.”

Namjoon looks around the books nearest him, still frowning. “What do you suggest?”

You shrug, even though you do have a few ideas. “I think we should try with what we have,” you say. “I can usually get a read from the first attempt - I can tell if we’re on the right track, going in the right direction. I get a good feel for if we need to remove anything, and sometimes I can press for more.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows shoot up. “You want to try a counter-curse? Already? Do you think that’s safe?”

You tap your feet against the stone floor, thinking. “It’s not unsafe,” you say. “It just might not… seem very productive. But, to me, it’ll help. I just need everyone’s trust, I guess.”

He shakes his head. “I trust you… I’m not so sure about the King and Queen. You can’t just cast on the crown prince willy-nilly and hope something comes of it.”

“Willy-nilly,” you repeat with a scoff. “Very academic of you.”

He tosses a pen at you and you let it clatter to the floor after it bounces off your kneecap. 

“It’s not willy-nilly,” you defend. “The benefits outweigh the risks, Namjoon. I need some direction, and the magic will point me. What are we going to do otherwise, keep spinning our wheels down here while life carries on without us back home?”

He frowns more deeply, but drops your gaze. Finally he asks, “How confident are you that it won’t hurt him? Or, worse, put you out of commission? You know I can’t do this by myself.”

You ignore this last part. “I’m very confident that at worst one or both of us will need to rest for a day or two. Nothing worse than that.”

You stare at each other in silence, both doing calculations in your heads - risks, benefits, all of it.

“My grandfather put you in charge,” he says finally, and you know a victory when you see one. “If you think that’s the best step, I’ll support you.”

Hours later, after you’ve picked up all the books from the floor, after you’ve compiled all the paper you’d scribbled on and made just one cohesive list of counter-threads, after you’ve showered and changed into something presentable, you stand in a mostly empty room of the palace.

The King and Queen are seated. Namjoon stands just behind your left shoulder, ready to help if things go very wrong. Prince Taehyung stands across from you, looking drawn and nervous. 

He can’t be more nervous than you are, you think. Under the King and Queen’s gazes, you feel like a spectacle. 

“I would like to reiterate,” you say, holding up a finger, “that I very much do not expect this to actually break the curse today. However, it should cause no serious harm to try, and I expect that when we are done I’ll know if we’ve miscalculated anything, and a direction on what might still be missing.”

“No serious harm,” Prince Taehyung mutters, and you can’t help but smile across at him.

“You’ll be okay,” you promise. “It just might not be… pleasant.”

He grimaces, but remains quiet this time.

You glance at the paper on the small podium to your right, recounting the steps, mouthing the incantations to yourself as if you’re rehearsing. 

“Okay,” you say finally, holding up a palm for the prince. “I’m ready when you are.”

He seems to need to collect himself, then presses his palm up to yours and waits, anxious eyes on your face, pretty mouth turned down into a frown.

You begin reciting the opening incantations, the ones that call up your magic - the magic you used to think you pulled from the world around you, that you’re now learning comes from deep within you. 

You know when it works, you always do; the feeling is electrifying, thrilling, a euphoria you’ve never felt from anything else. Magic running through your veins like blood makes you feel alive in ways you didn’t know you could before you’d started practicing counter-curses. Now, the electricity runs stronger, as if the magic is magnified by the Infracti touching you. 

It occurs to you that this might be exactly the case. 

You move onto the next counter-threads, speaking slowly and clearly as you try to untangle the pain, the confusion, the suppression of self that Prince Taehyung experiences each night. 

You concentrate on the incantation, but you close your eyes and let yourself feel -  little flickering flame-fingers of magic reaching out and tentatively poking at the mess of magic inside the prince, trying to locate each single thread, ready to tug each one and - ideally - unravel the whole ball. 

You know it’s doing something when he flinches, then carefully presses his palm more firmly against yours, like he’s afraid he’s broken the connection. 

The tendrils of your magic report back - you can feel where each thread of your countercurse connects to a thread of the curse, ready to pull them out. You can feel just how much is left unconnected. 

There’s so much there that your magic hasn’t touched. 

The magic sings to you: not enough, it’s not enough, it isn’t enough, it’s not -

The connection breaks as Prince Taehyung’s eyes flash to fathomless black and there’s a split second where you’re afraid you did the opposite of what you intended, called forth the beast. But then his knees buckle and he starts to drop. 

The Queen shouts and stands, but your reflexes are fast, too. You have the prince by the elbows and you sink to the ground with him, gently. You feel rather than see Namjoon move closer, ready to help. 

By the time you’ve lowered you both to your knees, still clutching his elbows and using all of your core strength to try and hold him upright, he’s back - blinking human-looking eyes at you, fingers twitching and then clutching your arms back.

“That,” he mumbles, “did not feel nice.”

“I know,” you whisper, just for him. “I’m sorry. It’s over now.”

Namjoon makes it to you first, having been standing the closest, and he helps both of you clamber unsteadily to your feet. The King and Queen approach, and you gingerly let go of the prince’s elbows, watching to make sure he’s staying on his feet.

“I suppose it didn’t work,” the King says drolly. 

“I’ve got a pretty good idea where to go from here,” you say, and you do. But the prince is unsteady on his feet, fighting to keep his eyes open and alert. To him, you say, “It’s my professional opinion that you need to rest. You aren’t sleeping at night, and your body needs to recover from what happened here.”

“Then I expect an update tomorrow,” the Queen says coolly, and helps Prince Taehyung to the door, where he finally succeeds at waving her off and heads down the hallway, alone. 

The King follows his wife to the door and they depart as well, without a look back, let alone a goodbye. 

You turn to Namjoon, who is shaking his head at you. “That went well,” he says sarcastically.

“We’re missing threads,” you tell him, certain. “There’s a lot we haven’t uncovered yet. What we have is good - but there’s a lot more. I felt it.”

“So how do we figure that out?” he asks, voice a little rough with frustration. 

You miss Dr. Kim. Namjoon has certainly held his own down here, but you and Dr. Kim had a partnership, mutual trust. His expertise outweighed yours - he would have at least had a suggestion at a time like this, not scorn. 

“There’s a ritual I can try,” you say, thinking out loud. “If he’ll let me.”

“Considering you just tried to knock him out,” Namjoon says dryly, “I don’t think he’s going to be very agreeable.”

“I’m going to try to convince him anyway,” you say decisively. “And I think I should go by myself.”

“Of course you do,” Namjoon says easily, and your temper flares.

“Another person’s energy will affect the reading,” you snap. “I’ll get your energy instead of his. I don’t care what you think - I know this will work, so I’m going. I’ll see you later, at home.”

You leave abruptly, pissed off, not even registering that you’d called your little rooms home. 

Dansoo and Satuel are thankfully just in the corridor, as always, and you request to be taken to the prince’s wing. Satuel brings you, walking in silence ahead of you. When you reach the prince’s doors, she waits with you while one of his personal guards slips inside to ask if he’ll see you.

You’re honestly surprised when she returns and invites you in.

You find Prince Taehyung on the same couches you’d sat on your first night here, after Jimin had brought you to these rooms. 

“I knew you wouldn’t rest,” you say, and he turns to look at you. His face is unreadable, blank - even his humanlike eyes give nothing away. 

“This is resting,” he says evenly. 

You shake your head. “You should try and sleep.”

He turns away again, a defeated slump to his shoulders. “I can’t seem to,” he admits.

You frown, watching him carefully. “May I sit?” you ask. He holds out a hand towards the empty couch opposite him but doesn’t look at you.

You sit gingerly. “I’m sorry for what just happened,” you tell him seriously. “I know it was unpleasant.”

“It was,” he agrees, his voice tight and measured. 

“What did it feel like?” you ask. 

His shoulders tighten. “Like I could feel you poking around behind my ribs,” he says shortly. “And then it hurt.”

“I’m sorry it hurt you,” you murmur. You want to reach out and touch his arm, as you had a few nights ago next to the sea and under the stars, but something stops you. “I want you to know that it wasn’t my doing. The curse… protects itself, let’s say.”

This makes him turn to look at you. “The curse caused that,” he paraphrases, clearly unconvinced.

You nod. “I could feel my counter-threads connecting, and I could feel the threads we hadn’t made connection to yet,” you explain slowly. “But magic knows to protect itself. When I started trying to feel for those unconnected pieces of the curse, it - sort of kicked me out?”

He frowns. “Was it a waste of time, then?”

“Not at all,” you say quickly, encouraged. “What we just did confirmed which threads we identified correctly, and that there are some more to uncover.”

He takes this in silently for a few minutes. Then, he asks, “And, can we uncover the rest?”

“That’s why I came,” you admit. “There’s a ritual I’ve done… its purpose is to identify what’s in there.”

He scowls. “Why didn’t we do that from the beginning?”

You purse your lips, then try to explain. “Rituals like this… are always inherently risky. It’s better to figure out what you can with logic and magical theory before resorting to this.”

“Risky,” he echoes flatly. “Is it going to hurt again?”

You grimace. “It hurt a lot, huh?”

His jaw juts, just a bit. “Enough that I’m not eager to experience it twice in one day,” he says, a bit of haughtiness coming into his voice. He’s his mother’s son, indeed. 

“It won’t hurt you,” you say quietly. “But there does need to be a level of trust - of allowing my magic to poke around, as you put it.”

He doesn’t answer this. He seems to wobble where he sits. Then, he lifts his tired eyes to you. For a moment, he lets you see the exhaustion, the fear, the hopelessness. He looks desolate, nearly frail.

Then, something closer to anger slides onto his face, replacing the vulnerability you were sure you were seeing. “I haven’t slept in many days,” he says, not answering your question at all. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur. “You should try. You need to rest.”

He blinks heavily, shoulders sagging. When he opens his eyes to look at you again, they’re wet and black, no longer magicked to seem human. Something hard takes over his voice, and he asks, “Can you help me? Can you make me sleep, venefici?”

“Yes,” you whisper, rising. “I can at least try.”

He closes those black eyes again, leans sideways until he’s laying down, knees bent.

You place your hands on his elbow and close your own eyes, feeling the magic rise up to you. Small spells like this were not your area of study, but you think you can manage. You at least know what to do.

It takes no time at all - less than a minute. His breathing deepens, his fingers twitch once. He is so beautiful like this, it’s hard to look at him. You remove your hand carefully and step away.

Prince Taehyung just called you witch.

–

Namjoon is waiting for you when you return. 

“How’d it go?” he asks, sounding like he means it, even though you’d sort of argued before you left. 

“I told him about the ritual,” you say, sinking onto the couch and dropping your head into your hands, emotionally spent. “He’s considering it.”

He looks at you appraisingly. “You don’t sound very happy about it,” he observes.

You sigh. “He’s just… not feeling great, from earlier. It’s fine.”

You sit there for another minute, your eyes on the ground, while he watches you, as if he might get more information out of you if he just waits it out. Finally you mutter, “I’m gonna get ready for bed,” and you slink off to your private rooms. 

It’s ironic. After using your magic to help the prince find sleep for the first time since his curse began, you lay awake, unable to help yourself at all.

<;- Prev | Next ->

hi there! thanks for reading!

i'm going to take a week off of posting this series, so there will be no update on friday, january 8th. instead, chapter 7 will post on friday, january 19th. thanks for understanding!

[lemon-boy-stan]

Lazy Saturday - Diluc Ragnvindr

Summary: after a long night, you wake up at noon next to your husband. Genre: fluff. Pairing: Diluc Ragnvindr x Reader (fem). Warnings: suggestive dialogue (Diluc brags about the night before), Diluc traumatises the maids talking about seggs with his wife (silly boi). Overall it's pretty cute. Reader's appearance is based on Lumine.

It was a warm day in Mondstadt, the sun was shining through the windows of the Dawn Winery. Diluc smiled, looking down at your sleeping form. You were so peaceful, you looked so beautiful while you were resting. He loved the way your soft blonde hair glistened in the morning light.

The grandfather clock in the centre of the house chimed. It was afternoon, but it was Saturday. The day could wait, there was no business to attend to, and you had been so exhausted last night that as soon as you both climbed into bed again you drifted off to sleep in his arms immediately.

Diluc made sure not to make any large movements as he crept out of the king bed, taking a shirt from the closet, draping it over his shoulders. It was too hot to button it up, it would just have to do. He went to he door of the room to make as little noise as possible, calling out in a raspy voice, “Adeline,” and the maid came running over, “yes, Master Diluc? Good morning, Master Diluc.”

Diluc smiled, “good morning. Well, good afternoon. Could you make a brunch meal for us? YN is sleeping but I’m sure she’d enjoy waking up to it. Oh, and could you run a bath too?” Adeline smiled, nodding, “of course, I’ll have one of the girls do it. Big day planned?”

Diluc smiled again, shaking his head, “oh, no, quite the opposite, I was thinking of a late breakfast in bed, then a bath for her, she’s had a long day yesterday. Something to soothe the muscles?”

Adeline clicked her fingers in excitement and nodded eagerly, “I’ve just the thing, Master Diluc. That new soap you bought from Liyue -”

“‘Luc,” spoke a soft voice. Diluc smiled, “good morning, love.” you rubbed your eyes, why wasn’t he in bed? His side was cold. “Come back,” the words tumbled from your lips drowsily, “please.” you whined softly. He chuckled, “alright, darling. I was just asking Adeline to make a brunch for us.”

“Brunch?!” you jolted up in bed. “But - today’s Saturday! I’ve got that outing with Jean and Kaeya and the others! What will they think when I didn’t show up?! -” but Diluc merely laughed, “don’t worry about that, love. I sent Jean a telegram last night saying not to expect you today morning.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock, “Diluc!” and he grinned, shrugging. At least you weren’t the only one shocked; Adeline had an almost comical expression on her face. She shook her head, laughing. “Master Diluc, you are scandalous. Lady Ragnvindr, I highly doubt you will have to worry about those other women anymore, you’ll be the talk of the town if I didn’t know Sir Kaeya and Miss Jean better.”

Your jaw was going to be permanently dropped for the rest of the day. You and the maids were great friends, and often told each other your secrets and fears, one of your fears being that most women in Mondstadt were still chasing after your husband. The maids teased you about it often, always reassuring you that you were all Diluc thought about, but this was the first time Diluc himself had heard of it, and your cheeks were red with embarrassment.

Diluc turned to you curiously,“other women?” raising an eyebrow. You covered your mouth with the blanket, “ahh, nothing!” Diluc pouted, crawling on the bed so his face was inches away from yours, “don’t tell me you’re worried about other women, my love. Well, I guess I’ll have to make sure how loud we are so that no other women look at me, hmm?”

You dove under the covers, “ahhh, Master Diluc! I can’t take any more!” Adeline shut the door loud and hurriedly and Diluc laughed rambunctiously. He jumped on you, hugging you and kissing your head. “I love you so much,” he sighed happily. “I love you too,” you kissed his nose before giggling, “although I think you should give the maids a raise, I think we’ve traumatised Adelaine for life.”

And Diluc chuckled loudly again, his laughter echoing throughout the room, so loud that it scared the pigeons that had been living on your windowsill that they flew away. “Ah, well,” he showered your face with kisses, “I was thinking of giving them a raise anyway. I felt bad after the past few weeks…” and you giggled, slapping his back, “you’re so bad, Master Diluc!”

He grinned at you mischievously, eyes twinkling. “Don’t call me that, my love. You know what it does to me.”

GENSHIN IMPACT MASTERLIST

NAVIGATION

[paintyoureyeswithavividmind]

close to home | chapter thirty eight

close to home | chapter thirty eight

plot: Alexandria steps up to move a herd of walkers, and then the community is attacked

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 2,387 Warnings: violence, blood, typical twd A/N: thank you for reading!!!

You couldn’t sleep that night. After the meeting about Rick, and everything that happened during it, you couldn’t close your eyes long enough without thinking about all that happened. Reg was dead, who you didn’t really talk to. And Rick had killed Pete. You hoped that meant Deanna would let Rick stay. That meant you all could stay. 

Michonne was sleeping in the bed on the other side of the room, and you had enough of tossing and turning. You quietly left the room and headed downstairs, hoping to find something small to eat. 

Carol had made her acorn cookies earlier today--a part of this act she was putting on--so you helped yourself to two of them and a glass of water. The clock on the microwave read it was nearing two in the morning. Your eyes were heavy, and your body was tired, but your mind wouldn’t let you sleep. 

Out the front window, you saw the light from a cigarette, and you knew exactly who it was. You hadn’t gotten a chance to speak with Daryl since he got back tonight. You weren’t sure if he knew about Rick’s outburst yesterday or if Noah was alive. He’d only been back a few hours, most of which was the meeting and everyone leaving. 

When you stepped outside, the air was warm, and you immediately caught his attention. You started to feel nervous; he pushed you away when you kissed him the first time. Now that you had sex, you were worried about the same. 

“Hi,” You said quietly as you sat down. 

Daryl nodded with a grunt before taking a long drag of his cigarette. 

“How are you?” You asked, wrapping your arms around your middle and looking at him. “How was recruiting with Aaron?”

“Was okay. Nothin’ happen’,” He said. 

You nodded and looked out at the neighborhood. All of the lights were off except a few porch lights. It looked so ordinary. It even smelt normal. You couldn’t smell walkers. Instead, you smelt grass and the night air. You could even hear crickets chirping. 

“Did you hear about Noah?” You asked.

Daryl nodded and flicked the ash off the cigarette. “Yeah,”

You were silent after that. You weren’t sure exactly what to say. It felt a bit awkward, and you didn’t want to embarrass yourself by saying something stupid. Maybe he was just adjusting to the news. Coming home and hearing about Noah’s death couldn't have been easy. And all the drama with Rick didn’t help either. 

You glanced at him again, taking in his strong side profile and messy hair. You knew you wouldn’t get anything out of him tonight, and that was okay. He needed to process a lot of things in his own way. 

“Alright, well,” You said, standing up and heading back inside. As you approached the door, you stopped and turned around momentarily, “I’m glad you’re home safe, Daryl.” 

***

Two days later, a new enemy threatened Alexandria. You sat next to Maggie on the couch as Rick told everyone about the quarry and how the group needed to eliminate it. At first, you were as unsure as everyone else, but as Rick explained his plan, you immediately agreed. You had to. If you didn’t, and the walkers got out, they’d head straight for Alexandria. 

Of course, you were the first to volunteer, and soon others followed suit. After the meeting, everyone dispersed, and you and Maggie walked home together.

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I didn’t volunteer?” Maggie asked you quietly. 

You glanced at her, “I figured you just weren’t up to it. Honestly, I wasn’t paying much attention. I’ve been preoccupied the last few days.”

“With Daryl? How is that?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s so reserved. I think us having sex freaked him out because he hasn’t really talked to me. But I left his room the next morning and thought he was happy. I’m just giving him space right now. He’ll talk to me eventually. I can wait.”

“What else is it then?”

“Just everything. Accepting where we are, how we got here. I’m still wrapping my head around it.”

“Yeah, I can relate to that.”

“So what about you? Why didn’t you volunteer?” You asked.

Maggie grabbed your arm and stopped you a few feet from your house’s porch steps. She looked around and then smiled at you. “I’m pregnant.”

Your eyes widened, and you tried to speak but stuttered over your own words. “You’re… what? Like a baby?”

Your cousin laughed, and she nodded. “I wanted you to be the first to know. I’m not quite sure how far along I am, but I am.”

“You look so happy about it, Mags,” You said with a smile. “I’m happy for you and Glenn.”

***

After dinner that night, you decided to go for a run around the neighborhood. You used to love jogging before the end of the world, and then life was always spent on the run. So now that you had a safe place to do it and had food in your stomach consistently over the past week or so, you had the energy to do it. You actually missed it. 

You ended up doing laps around the neighborhood until the sunset, and then you walked back to your house all sweaty and out of breath. But you felt alive. You felt happy and healthy for the first time before the world ended. 

Daryl was sitting on the porch, smoking another damn cigarette. You grew nervous as you approached him. The two of you spoke casually the past few days but nothing with actual subsistence. And you didn’t talk about what you wanted to talk about. 

You gave Daryl a smile and a nod as you walked past him but paused when he said your name. So anxiety filled your stomach, and you sat next to him. 

“Needa ask you a favor,” He said, chewing on his thumbnail and looking at you every few seconds. 

“What?”

“The quarry and shit. Was thinkin’ maybe you stay here instead. Keep an eye on things.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed together, and you looked at him. “What? Why?”

“Lot of us are goin’ out. There ain’ gonna be a lot of us here to defend the place case somethin’ happens.”

“Nothing is going to happen. And I already told Rick I’m going.” 

Daryl looked at you then, rubbing his jaw. “Can ya please just stay?” He stressed. 

You looked away from him as you realized why he was asking. He was worried about you. Your heart fluttered, and you clasped your hands together. “If you tell me why you want me to stay, I will.” 

He nodded and took a long drag of the cigarette, almost like he needed it to speak his mind. He didn’t look at you as he said, “Don’t want ya out there anymore.”

Again, your heart fluttered. It wasn’t a declaration of his feelings, but it was enough, especially from Daryl. So you nodded and reached over, taking the cigarette from his hand and crushing it under your show. “Fine. I’ll stay. But you gotta stop smoking so much. The world’s already trying to kill you, don’t help it out.” 

You stood up, and in an act of bravery, you leaned down and kissed the top of his head. He didn’t move away fast enough, and you chuckled. “Goodnight, Daryl.”

***

You and Carol stood together as you watched the teams head out of Alexandria. You could hear Daryl’s new motorcycle leading the charge. You wrapped your arm around Carol’s and sighed. 

“It’s just a dry run,” Carol reminded you. “And it’s us. They’ll be fine.”

You shook your head, “It’s not us I’m worried about. Building the fences, you saw what they were like; they could barely take down a walker.”

“Rick’s plan will work. I know it will.” Carol said, and you both turned after the gates were shut. “What are your plans today?”

“Carl wants to show me a comic book he thinks I’ll like, and I’m helping him babysit Judith” You smiled, “And I’ll be covering watch duty later tonight too.” 

The two of you split ways, and you met up with Carl while she went to grab things from Olivia. He was excited to show you the comic--which you didn’t exactly care for, but you’d never tell him that. Judith was peaceful as ever, and Tora napped right alongside her. 

It was peaceful until it wasn’t. 

“(Y/N)!” Carol screamed from downstairs, and you were on your feet in seconds. They thudded as you ran down the stairs.

You heard screaming from outside, and you grabbed your weapons, thanking God you’d left them in the kitchen when you came back. The two of you told Carl to stay with Judith and that you’d be back soon. And, of course, not to leave. 

“Plan?” You asked as you holstered your gun and gripped your knife tightly. 

“Try and stay together,” Carol said before you both left the house together. 

Of course, that plan didn’t work out. Strangers were running around with weapons, attacking anyone that moved. You lost track of where Carol went as you crept around a house, spotting a man tying up one of the Alexandrians you didn’t know that well. 

You steadied your breathing and started approaching the man slowly, with your machete raised. When you got close enough, you jumped on his back and dug your weapon into his neck. He died without making a sound, and you untied the man. “Get somewhere safe,”

Then you moved on to your next target, who had just brutally beat your neighbor to death. You used the gun this time, with a clean shot to the head. Then you put down your neighbor with your machete and kept moving. 

A horn started blasting, and you froze for a moment, trying to determine what it was and where it was coming from. In your second of hesitation, a figure darted from behind a house and jumped at you. 

Your head hit the ground hard as you struggled against the woman. She had the advantage; she was taller and stronger and seemed twice as crazy. 

“You crazy fuck,” You cursed loudly, blocking her hand that had gotten close to stabbing you. You thrashed underneath her, fighting for your life. She attacked again, and you did your best to block her when the knife came down. It just missed your chest, the blade running against your collarbones. You felt the blood start to pool immediately and thrashed harder, using your legs to kick her off you. 

Acting quickly, you jumped over her and slammed her head against the ground before spotting a rock a foot away. You slammed her again harder and then grabbed the rock in her daze. 

The sickening crunch of the rock caving in her head was enough to tell you she wasn’t dead, and you beat her until portions of her skull had fractured off. 

“(Y/N)!”

You dropped the rock and fell backward when you heard Maggie, and she was over to you instantly. 

“Come on, we gotta go,” She said, helping you stand. 

Rosita and Aaron were there, and they both looked like they had a good fight. You knew the look Rosita gave you, and you nodded, letting her know you were okay. 

“The dead are rising,” Aaron said as he spotted a walker that was once a friend. 

You breathed out and twirled your machete. “We still got work to do.”

***

“Denise!” Maggie yelled as she pushed you through the infirmary door. “She got knicked on her collarbone; it won’t stop bleeding,” 

The new doctor approached you immediately and led you to a chair. Across the room, a blanket was covering a body. A part of you didn’t want to know who it was. 

Denise worked quickly, having Maggie put pressure on the wound before she quickly stitched it up. It only needed a few, but you knew that before getting there. 

“I gotta go to Deanna; you okay here?” Maggie asked you. 

You nodded because you were too tired to speak. Your cousin left, and Denise gave you some water and food to help with the blood loss. 

“Who were they?” Tara asked you. 

“Some freaks with W’s on their forehead. I don’t know.”

***

After Denise cleared you to go, you headed toward the gate. With so many people now dead, you figured someone should be on lookout. The survivors had already begun cleaning up the mess, and you knew it would take hours to get everyone buried. If they even had the space for it in the cemetery. 

You were already standing guard when Michonne, Heath, and Scott returned. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but couldn’t focus on anything except making sure no one was trying to climb the walls. 

Deanna had climbed up there with you and thanked you quietly for helping protect the community. She tried not to look at your blood-soaked clothes, and you realized how jarring it must’ve been. And how messed up it was that it didn’t even affect you anymore. You weren't even sure how many people you killed in the attack.

“Open the gate!”

You both turned at Rick’s voice, and your mouth dropped as you saw what was heading right to you. Through the trees, hundreds of walkers chased Rick down the street. While Deanna froze, you rushed to climb the ladder and get to the gate, where Michonne pulled it open. 

“Rick!” You yelled, grabbing your gun at firing at a few walkers who were too close for your liking. As soon as he crossed through, Michonne shut the gate, and you grabbed Rick’s arm. 

He desperately tried to catch his breath as you searched his arms and then grabbed his face, inspecting for anything that could’ve been fatal. His hand had a gash, and many wounds were across his arms and face. As he breathed deeply, he gave you a nod, and you knew he was okay, for the most part. 

But with the sounds of walkers banging against the wall, you weren’t sure if anything was going to be okay.

[ladykailitha]

The Magic of Christmas Part 6/8

Angst up ahead. Sorry. I had to rough things up a bit so they didn't get together too soon. But hey, at least it's Halloween. And yes, this was actually something my friends and I used to do for Halloween. It was fun.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

***

October in the Midwest was as beautiful as it was harsh. The temperature would take a sharp decline around this time of year, and if you weren’t prepared you could get caught outside in cold ass weather in a light jacket with no gloves, no hat, no boots.

In short, Steve in this moment.

He had gone off to work assuming it would be as warm as it was the day before. But no. Mother Nature had decided that summer was officially over, autumn was a fleeting season, and that winter was here.

So yeah, he was fucking miserable. He spotted Robin all nice and cozy and protested.

“How did you know it was going to be so cold?” he whined.

She rolled her eyes at him. “The weather app on my phone?”

Steve cursed under his breath. “It was literally sixty degrees yesterday, how am I freezing my balls off?”

Robin made a face. “Ew.”

A dark grin took over his face.

“What?” she asked as he inched closer. “Whatever you are about to do, don’t.”

He pounced and managed to get his cold hands under her coat close to her skin and she shrieked, trying to get away.

He chased her trying to warm his hands up.

Eddie arrived a few minutes later to find them rosy cheeked and laughing their asses off.

“You didn’t have to wait for me outside, you know?” he said, tugging on Steve’s sleeve to guide him toward the doors that would lead into the restaurant.

Robin peered around him as though she was looking for someone. “Chrissy not coming?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Eddie said, “Her finance professor decided that he was going to have pop quiz tomorrow and only gave them two days to study for it.”

Steve grimaced. “I bet it was Callahan. That guy’s an ass. Especially if there are more than three girls in his class.”

Eddie tilted his head to the side. “That’s right, I forgot you must have gotten your business degree if you’re running your own business.”

“Worthless as it is to actual fucking business,” he groused.

They walked into the restaurant and Eddie immediately clocked why they had been waiting for him outside. It was hotter than the Devil’s tit in here and it was crammed wall to wall with people.

“Reservations for four under the name Harrington,” Steve said when they reached the hostess.

She scanned her list. “No one under that name for tonight.”

Steve frowned. “Today is the 11th, right? It is six o’clock right? How is my name not on the list?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the hostess said briskly. “There is no one under that name for six o’clock.”

“How about Buckley?” Robin asked, stepping forward.

She scanned her list again. “Nothing for six.”

Eddie frowned. “Okay, then for what time?”

The hostess blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

“You clearly have a Buckley on your list,” Eddie explained, “as you didn’t say no to the name, just the time. So what time is the reservation for?”

“Well,” the hostess said with a sneer, “if you can’t remember the time, how do I know you are the Buckley that made the reservation?”

Robin pulled out her ID and handed it to her. “It’s under Robin Buckley for tonight, if not 6pm then 6:30pm.”

The hostess took her ID and looked from it to her and then back again several times. She sighed heavily. “Yes, we have a reservation at 6:30 under that name.”

They were shown to their seats and sat down.

The food was terrible, the service was worse, and the prices for the food were exorbitant for what they got.

Steve left the bare minimum of a tip, roughly eighteen percent and they were chased out of the restaurant by a screaming server demanding more tip.

“Well that was horrific,” Robin said as they all huddled inside Steve’s car, waiting for the cops to arrive so that they could get the screaming lady away from them so Eddie could get to his van and Steve could drive off safely.

“And who’s idea was this anyway?” Eddie hissed. He had never been treated that badly by anyone in his life. And he was a metalhead in high school.

Steve ducked his head down. “It was mine. But I had heard nothing but good things about it from my colleagues for weeks. I just want to do something unique.”

“That was unique all right,” Eddie growled. “Getting yelled and chased for leaving a decent tip. Congrats, zero for ten would never do it again.”

“I’m sorry!” he cried. “It’s never happened to me before either.”

“Whatever.”

Just then the cops arrived and the server went dashing back into restaurant the second she saw them. They talked to Steve and got his information and his version of events. Ten minutes later, Steve and Robin were on their way home in silence and a very pissed off Eddie was on his way back to his place.

*

“Edward Allen Munson!” Chrissy snapped after Eddie told her about his night. “Are you seriously telling me that you think that Steve, your Steve would deliberately take you to a restaurant were they were rude to you, the food was bad, and then proceed to get chased out said restaurant to humiliate you?”

“Not when you say it like that,” he muttered looking down at his hands.

“You think?!” she screeched. “How could you possibly think that of Steve?”

Eddie picked at the thread of the rip of the knee of his jeans. “It was a lapse in judgment, okay! I don’t really think of him like that! I don’t. I–I don’t.”

“So do you want to tell me what was going through your head?” Chrissy asked.

“All the times that I got made fun of for the way I dress,” Eddie muttered, “the music I liked, the games I played, the art I drew. I could see it all happening again like it was in slow motion.”

She threw her arms around his shoulders. “But Steve isn’t like that. He hired you for you. Your art, the way you dress. Then he liked you as a person. A person who made him laugh, who drew him out of his shell, who looked him in the eye and said, ‘I won’t hurt you.’ Only you did, Ed. So much.”

“I’ll make it up to him,” Eddie promised.

“You better.”

*

Only two days later Robin messaged him to say that one the charities he was on the board for just got indicted for fraud and that for the next couple of weeks Steve was going to be living in the office until got it figured out.

But apparently the universe was out to get Eddie because the next thing he knew Steve was on his way to London because one of the companies Steve’s own company had been trying to buy for literal years was finally willing to sell.

So off Steve went. And Robin went with him. Leaving behind two very bereft artists.

It was getting close to Halloween and Eddie was getting worried. So he called Robin.

“You guys will be back in time for Halloween, right?” he asked nervously. “I’m not DMing a one-shot in your house if you guys aren’t in it.”

“We’re working on it,” Robin promised. “It’s just one of the original owners is dragging his feet on one sentence in one paragraph. And it’s stupid and pointless.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry. That does sound bad.”

“I’ll keep you guys posted,” she said firmly. “We’ll make it back even if I have to shank the old bastard.”

Eddie laughed feeling easier about the Halloween party.

“I’ll be your alibi,” he said with a grin.

“You’re on!”

*

They barely made it in town by the 29th. Steve was running on two hours of sleep and bleary-eyed when he fell into bed that night. Robin had insisted that they stay up until at least nine to avoid jetlag.

Something that Steve struggled with mightily, but sleep was bliss once he was allowed to crawl into his bed.

He woke up at eleven the next morning, still tired, but finally alive enough to function beyond zombie-like.

Robin and Steve got to work cleaning the house. Technically Claudia and Dustin lived there, too. But she had recently started dating again and spent most of her time at his place. So in the house hadn’t been lived in during the two weeks they were gone.

They got the dining room set up for the game and then went shopping. Steve was going all out.

He bought ingredients for pizza and as many toppings as he could think of. Sausage, ground beef, bacon, peppers, onions, mushrooms, ham, hell he even grabbed pineapple in case someone wanted it. He was also making two different kinds of sauce. A white cheese and a marinara.

He got everything prepared and in the fridge, then tomorrow he was going to make the dough.

“You have really outdone yourself,” Robin said patting him on the shoulder. “Those little shitheads better appreciate your hard work.”

Steve scoffed. “They won’t.”

“True,” Robin said with a laugh.

*

Eddie wasn’t sure what he thought of Steve’s house. At least from the outside. It was very post modern and a little ugly.

But when he was led in, he fell in love with the place. It was warm and welcoming and so soft.

If Eddie had been a writer he would have spoke to the metaphor of the house being like Steve. Looking pretentious and aloof on the outside, but warm and inviting on the inside.

The guilt from the last time he saw Steve burned in his gut. He had railed against judging a book by its cover for so long, that he forgot what that actually meant.

“So are the kids here yet?” Eddie asked as she took his coat.

Robin shook her head. “Not yet. But they should be in about a half hour. Steve wanted to give you time to set up before they got here to ‘deepen the surprise’ as he called it.”

Eddie grinned. “Lead the way!”

She lead him to the dinning room with the long oak wood table. It was gorgeous.

“We don’t usually eat in here,” she said as he set up. “There’s a lovely little breakfast nook in the kitchen that’s better suited for our eating needs, but I figured that you’d want more space for your game.”

“Brilliant as always, Birdie,” Eddie said, kissing her cheek.

“Oi!” Steve said from the other door to the dinning room. “No stealing my lesbian. You have one of your own.”

Eddie threw his head back and laughed. “Yeah, yeah.”

Now that the door was open delicious smells came wafting through the air.

“Holy shit, Stevie,” he gasped. “What are you making? I thought it was booze and pizza tonight, nothing fancy.”

Robin laughed as Steve ducked his head.

“This guy do anything simple?” she asked mockingly. “Never!”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Homemade just tastes better than fast food.” He turned on his heel and walked back into the kitchen.

“Only because you’re a food snob!” she crowed after him.

Eddie shook his head. “I’ve never gotten why people can be such snobs about food. It all comes out the other end in the end.”

Robin snorted. “That’s be we both grew up poor. Steve didn’t have boxed mac and cheese until he moved in with me.”

“But boxed mac is the best!” Eddie protested.

“Only if you haven’t had his grandmother’s mac and cheese. It’s made in a casserole dish with bread crumb topping and extra cheese sprinkled on top at the end for extra gooeyness.”

Eddie straightened up. “One moment please.”

He walked into the kitchen like a man on a mission. “You sir have been holding out on me. You have a grandma approved mac and cheese recipe and you haven’t shared?”

Steve who had started the rant confused, threw back his head and laughed. “Sorry, Eds. I’ll bring to the next movie night. I promise.”

Eddie nodded and then turned on his heel to go back to setting up the D&D game.

Once everything was set up and they were just waiting for the kids to arrive, Eddie took time to suss out how badly he had fucked up.

“You are going to still join us, right?” Eddie asked chewing on his lower lip nervously.

Steve crumpled. “I want to. I do, but I’m so tired.”

“You would have been so tired if you had ordered pizza like the rest of us heathens, you know that, right?” Eddie said, bumping their shoulders together.

“If I’m being honest,” Steve said, scratching his cheek, “I wasn’t sure if you’d still wanted me to.”

Eddie threw his arms around him and sighed. “I’m sorry, Stevie. Of course I want you here. It’s sometimes I get locked into the us verses them mentality and forgot that you aren’t like that.” He tilted his head to side with big smile. “Plus we get to freak out your goblins not once, but twice if you play.”

Steve blinked for a moment. “Nope, you’re absolutely right, that is a fantastic idea.”

Eddie grinned. “You can play until your first death and then you can go to bed. Robin and I will handle it from there.”

“Sounds like a perfect plan,” he said with a smile.

They were close, so close. All it would have taken was to lean forward just a little and they would have been kissing.

But of course that was when the Party decided to arrive.

Steve got down their pizza orders and popped them into the oven. Then he lead them to dining room.

“Why are we eating out here?” Mike asked. “I hate that long table, it makes me feel like a peasant in a king’s castle or some shit.”

“Robin is making the drinks,” Steve said, “which means she needs the full bar to make them. There’ll be a menu and each of you will be given cups with lines on them. Once you hit the top line, it’s water and soda for the rest of the night. Do you understand?”

Everyone nodded. Even Mike. They knew that Steve had risked a lot of clout with their parents for this and they did not want to blow that for him.

Suddenly Dustin was tugging on Steve’s sleeve. “Why is Eddie Munson in our house?”

Everyone else turned and looked at the head of the long the table. Sure enough, there was Eddie, waving at them.

“Settle on in, my stalwart adventurers,” Eddie greeted warmly. “Your D&D accouterments are over by the door. You’ll have ten minutes to get ready and then we’ll start the haunted forest one-shot campaign for five.”

Everyone looked around and counted off.

“Are you playing and DMing?” Lucas asked, tilting his head in confusion.

Steve walked over to the door and pulled out a set of brightly yellow dice and sat down next to Eddie. “Nope.”

And suddenly there was pandemonium as they realized that Steve was playing with them.

Steve ended up playing the whole night, having been sucked into the story telling. After it was over and Steve was curled up with Dustin on the floor of the living room where everyone was camped out in sleeping bags including Eddie and Robin, Dustin thanked Steve.

“This was awesome, Steve,” he murmured drowsily. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I knew how upset you were about not being able to meet him,” Steve said, “especially since I work with him all the time for the charity.”

Dustin lifted his head. “So you came up with this as a way to make up for it?”

Steve hummed.

“Thanks, Steve.”

“You’re welcome, bud.”

As they drifted off to sleep, Eddie smiled to himself under the comfort of his sleeping bag. Yeah, Steve was a good dude.

****

Part 7 Part 8

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @carlprocastinator1000 @mogami13 @samsoble

[callsignfate]

Laswell x Sarcastic Wife.

I have more to edit and post, I planned to post it yesterday, but guess who had to go to the emergency dentist and get a molar removed? Me! I was in a ton of pain, and it's still sore today, but I'm going to try to write and edit.

Tw: Sexual innuendo and slight bickering. She/her pronouns.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

As you sat on the small couch in Kate's office, you observed her working diligently. The constant ticking of the office clock and the rustling of papers had become a familiar backdrop to your days, as your week together for your anniversary had been continually interrupted by work-related matters.

Kate was an epitome of efficiency. She managed her work with dedication, allocating some moments for you while maintaining her productivity. You often found solace in the peace and silence, appreciating the rare moments of quietude even though you wished for more interaction with Kate.

You contemplated offering to fetch her another cup of coffee, noticing her almost empty mug, when an unwelcome guest entered the room. This individual, seemingly of a higher rank, exuded an air of arrogance and indifference. His abrupt and disruptive entrance disturbed the tranquil atmosphere.

His attention turned towards Kate as he inquired about her progress, but something was off. She, who was known for her sharp and often sarcastic responses, appeared uncharacteristically compliant in her conversation with this man. Her uncharacteristic change piqued your curiosity.

Although you kept out of it, flitting between apps on your phone and a book you were reading until you heard his harsh words catch your attention.

"You need to work harder - maybe get rid of your... distraction," he muttered, emphasizing the last word with venom.

"Oh please, what's more distracting is that disco ball glare coming off that shiny ass head of yours," you muttered, keeping your eyes trained on the book as you took a dig at his obviously balding head.

"Excuse me?" He snapped, his feet taking a large step towards you in an attempt to intimidate you.

"The intimidation tactics won't work here, buddy. I'm lesbian, married, and have a very intimidating wife. You have absolutely no chance for your tactics to work. And while you may be taller, I can easily hit you in the nuts," you scoffed casually, finally looking up to see his face bright red and Kate's face in her hands with her head shaking in disapproval.

"Laswell, who is this sitting in your office? I want to speak to her higher-up. Now," he spat out as you began to laugh. He had no idea.

"That's my wife, and she doesn't technically have a higher-up. She doesn't work here anymore," Kate said calmly as she glanced over at you with a look of slight shock.

"Your wife has a mouth," the man said immediately after hearing he had no ground to try to punish you.

"And I use it every night," you said as you winked at Kate and went back to looking at your book. The small noise of shock he made before offering one parting word almost made you laugh.

"Just get it done," he shot out quickly before leaving the office immediately after.

"Interesting man, don't think he likes me," you said before Kate could get a word out. She shook her head and laughed, making you glance up at her from your book.

"Yeah, I don't think he likes you either," Kate said in between laughs.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

[lunarw0rks]

cod dudes with a nurse y/n but make it lowkey realistic: bc lets be real, after a 12 hr shift you do NOT want to hang out with friends, party, or socialize. ur feet hurt from walking and standing all day, your ears are tired from hearing the IV pumps beep all day, and the smell of C.diff makes u want to vomit. nurse y/n just wants to sit down or lay on the couch and be non-verbal... Gaz, price, and rudy are the sweetest. they pick that up real quick after mistakenly asking "hows ur shift" and y/n trauma dumped them for 5 hrs straight. they don't immediately ask for hugs and kisses bc they know u overwhelmed. they just pour u a cup of wine and sit next to you until YOU talk to them first. you lowkey gossip with them on ur day off or randomly be like "omg look at that dude over there next to the parking spot its giving edema". and then theres soap and ghost. Soap is clingy, yall really think hes gonna survive 12hrs of not seeing you? this man was waiting by the door at 7:15 pm. on the dot. wants to hug and kiss you and tell you about his day. but ur just so. fucking. tired. you tried to be as responsive but it always ended up with a tired "mhm". He legit got upset a few times but he'd be a good sport about it tho. eventually he caught on a couple of weeks in and now he just comes and hugs you from behind, kisses ur face, and cuddles you silently (AFTER you throw away ur dirty scrubs and shower. that C.diff smell is yucky yucky). Tells you he appreciates your care and effort for the patients every day :). Ghost.... omgg he said something lowkey offensive to you right after u got home from the worst shift of ur week. and he didnt even know WHAT he said/did, hes kinda bad a picking up ur cues. nurse y/n just turned around slowly, gave him the NASTIEST side eye, and stared at him for a good 2.5 min. This man immediately retreated from ur couch to wherever he was b4 like a hermit going back to its shell lmao. 2 hrs later you find a small written note and ur fave gurl dinner on the dining table.

Alejandro..... this man is SO PROUD of his s/o being a nurse. hes showing you off every chance he gets!!! He takes Nursing week SERIOUSLY. give you massages, spas, gifts, ect. but he doesnt get how tired and overwhelmed you are. you have to physically tell him to stop asking or letting his family asking medical question. "No ale. I will NOT look at auntie's mole on her stomach. when im off the clock im OFF THE CLOCK :("

Valeria threatens to beat up the management for you lol. she hates how you get treated by them sometimes. you didnt get the recognition you deserve. Def bosses her cartel men around to buy you gifts and such. one time she organized a whole day to spoil and pamper you. she gave you her own version of Daisy Award 🥺💞 Konig observes and internally analyzes ur every move. he panics tho. like "OMG she home but she already has a bottle of wine its different from the one she had yesterday.. omg omg she didnt even say hello that means her shifts was extra shitty today.... why is she sipping on the wine for so long and the last sip is longer than all previous sips........" He eventually learned you just need silent company. you were laying on the bed feeling burned out when he came over with some soup, kissed ur hand, and wrapped you in a blanket burrito :).

ah, realistic nurse!y/n. this is a breath of fresh air for me.

they're all trying their best. and honestly, what better pair? they also have an overstimulating, kinda gross (blood and bodily fluids), exhausting career !!

it's a match made in heaven !! (aside from the whole... miscommunication and barely seeing each other thing. but what's a good ship without some gut-wrenching angst?)

[garbinge]

Chalk Drawings

Happy Lowman & Juice Ortiz & Platonic!Reader Jax Teller & Teller!Sister Reader Opie Winston x Teller!Sister Reader

Day 22 from these April Prompts: Chalk Drawings

Summary: When Happy and Juice are on protection duty and the AC is broken you and the kids take to the outside to escape the sweaty prison that’s Jax’s house as you wait for your brother and partner to come home. 

Words: 1.9k 

A/N: I’ve been having a rough couple of days so I’m not really sure what this is but, I hope you all enjoy! lol.

Warnings: pretty fluffy (for me and my writing lol), reader has a daughter with Opie (no name given), no use of Y/N, slight angst/tension, alludes to death/murder slightly, nothing that’s not canon-level. 

SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics​

It was a beautiful summer afternoon, the sun was shining, there were fluffy clouds in the sky that were shaped like cotton candy. The only downside was that the California heat had no mercy and apparently neither did Jax’s air conditioner. It had broken early in the morning and by the afternoon the whole place felt like a sauna. Fans and open windows did nothing against the real feel of 93 degrees and there were only so many popsicles you willingly wanted to give to all the kids. This is what brought you outside on the driveway that had been covered by shade all day so it was luckily not burning hot. You had the full Winston x Teller group today, Kenny, Ellie, Abel, and your 3 year old daughter with Opie. The club was in partial lockdown due to business with the Cartel. Partial lockdown usually just meant no one was left alone, everyone who was someone had protection on them, which meant it was easier for people to stay in groups. Hence why you had all the kids right now. Gemma was out with Tara grocery shopping for the house and had taken Tig with them just to keep a close eye. This left you with Juice and Happy while Jax and Opie went on a run together with a few of the other guys. 

The sprinkler was going on the grass, something for the kids to run through if they got too hot, but currently the group of them were on the driveway drawing with chalk. Abel and Kenny had paired up leaving your daughter to rest in between your legs with a piece of chalk in her hands while Ellie sat to your left doing the same. You started doodling with one of the pieces of chalk that was scattered along the driveway to pass the time as well while Happy and Juice leaned against their bikes, keeping watch all of you. 

“You wanna get your hands dirty?” You held up the pink piece of chalk and called out to the two bikers. 

Juice was quick to smile but deny the request, his way of trying to look tough. You clocked it immediately because just yesterday he was eating a spongebob popsicle off the ice cream truck when he was the only one on your watch detail. 

“Yes I do.” Happy said instantly and eagerly as he pushed off his bike. He was quick to grab the chalk from you and begin doodling on the pavement. You thought you’d be shocked at his instant agreement to join you on the ground with the pastel art tools but surprisingly, it was exactly what you expected. Happy knelt on the pavement, one knee touching the ground while the other was being used as an armrest for the arm that wasn’t creating a chalk masterpiece. 

“C’mon Juice.”  You nodded your head to wave him over. 

“Yea, c’mon Juice!” Your daughter called out with a smile. 

You smirked at that and so did Juice as he walked over to you both. The little girl in your lap holding out the pink piece of chalk up to the biker. 

“Thanks,” His smirk not falling as he grabbed the chalk from the girl. 

“S’my favorite color.” She beamed at you and said the color’s name to show how smart she was. “Pink.” 

“It’s Juice’s too.” You teased and patted to the free space next to you as he shook his head and blushed. “Show me what you got, Juicy.” 

He started drawing stick figures, graffiti words, tribal drawings like his tattoos. 

“Can you draw me a flower?” Your daughter was quick to crawl out of your lap and sit in front of Juice. 

“I can try.” He began to try and draw some version of a flower, although it was looking more like a blob. 

“That’s not very good.” She tilted her head and frowned at it. 

You called out your daughters name, a warning to be nice although it didn’t do much. 

“Why does your hair look like that.” She asked as she drew over Juice’s flower creating her own masterpiece. 

Juice practically spit out the sip of water he just took at the girl’s question. 

“Why don’t you go see what Abel and Kenny are drawing, huh? Go ask Happy your questions.” You interrupted to give Juice a break. The girl shrugged and skipped her way over to the other group on the driveway. You knew Happy could handle the questions and would give them right back which entertained her. 

“Can you teach me how to draw that?” You heard her voice behind you as she stood over Happy’s shoulders. 

“I sure can.” He nodded and handed her the yellow piece of chalk before the sounds of the chalk hitting the pavement filled the air.

“Mommy look!” She called out and you turned to see the tons of smiley faces drawn on the ground, some smiling, some crying, some grinning. Your eyes jumped to Happy and back to the drawings a few times. No one came out and told you what Happy’s name meant, but being a Teller you had been around the clubhouse enough to see Happy hit the ring which meant seeing the array of smiley tats across his lower abdomen. It didn’t take a genius to put it together. 

You weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or be mortified, the kids had no idea what it meant but there was a part of you that felt like there was something eerie about it. 

“Nice drawings.” Your eyebrows raised at him with a smirk as your nostrils flared. 

Happy smiled, oblivious to your sarcasm and nodded.

The sound of motorcycle engines filled the air, but there was no sign of who it was yet. Happy and Juice quick to stand up, Happy picking up your young daughter while you got up as well. He handed the girl to you before walking to the end of the driveway with Juice. As you situated the girl in your arms you began to walk near the garage door and called the rest of the kids over to you. There was a pit in your stomach, you grabbed your nephew and placed him behind you and told Kenny and Ellie to do the same as you guided them as well, using yourself as a human shield to them as you typed in the code to the garage door. 

The bikes got closer and as the sound got louder so did your thumping heart. The garage door was taking its sweet time to open, you tried your best to keep your wits about you as to not scare the kids but it was hard when Happy and Juice were reaching for there pieces. 

“Let’s play a game!” Your head snapped to the kids as the garage door opened. “Go inside and we’ll play hide-n-seek! Only rule is you MUST stay in the house. You hide and I’ll find you!” 

The kids giggled and immediately ran inside the house, your daughter wasn’t eager to leave your arms to play so you kept her in your grip, her head rested on your shoulder which soon dropped in relief as you saw the reaper on the bikes that were approaching. You recognized both bikes, your brother and Opie’s. A breath you didn’t realize you had been holding in let out and you closed your eyes in reassurance. 

Happy and Juice fell back quickly too, their relief looking a little different than your own. As both men pulled up to the curb and backed their bikes up, you started to walk down the driveway. Opie walked over to Happy and Juice likely to fill in the crew on what had just happened while Jax walked up to you. 

“You look like you just saw a ghost.” His long blond hair blew in the hot heat as his smirk grew. 

“I thought I was about to become one.” The only reason you let the joke out was because within the few minutes of your daughter being in your arms she had fallen asleep. 

He frowned and picked his hand up to tuck your daughters hair behind her ear. 

“I’ve been on edge, heard the bikes.” You shook your head and looked down. 

“We figured it all out, we’re fine, you’re safe.” His eyes jumped from yours to the girl in your arms, “all of you.” 

Jax’s eyes looked down at the concrete to see the chalk drawings on the ground, clocking the smiley faces immediately and let out a chuckle. 

“Really, Hap?” Jax called out to the man who smiled and nodded. 

At this point, Opie was walking over, his tall body standing over you in seconds as he placed a kiss on your head. 

“Hey, you okay?” His brows furrowed picking up on your tension. 

“We spooked her.” Jax teased you as he pinched your elbow. 

Opie’s eyes moved back to yours looking for confirmation. 

“I’m fine.” You argued and looked up to Opie who smiled knowing that the sibling rivalry was coming through in your short worded sentence. 

“Where the kids?” He asked still smiling. 

“Inside, I told them we’re playing hide-n-seek if you want to go find them.” You knew both men would pick up on the fact you told them to hide and probably why but before either of them could get to the bottom of why you were so on edge besides the obvious, your daughter was stirring awake. 

“Look who's here.” You whispered to her as she sat up in your arms and you turned so she could see her father. 

“Hi Daddy.” Her voice was still half asleep. 

“Hi baby.” Opie’s arms extended out so he could grab her. “I drew smileys with Happy.” She rested her head against his shoulder in an attempt to go back to sleep. Opie looked down at the pavement and then back to you. 

“She also asked Juice about his haircut.” You crossed your arms. 

“It looks funny.” She said still at a mumble causing Opie and Jax to laugh. 

“I think it does too.” Jax started to walk inside the house. “Ready or not, here I come!” He called out but you knew he was going to grab a drink and a snack from the kitchen before he started to look for the kids. 

“I guess next time we’ll keep Hap with us.” Opie teased as you both started to walk inside while the sound of Juice and Happy’s bikes started. You turned to wave goodbye to both of them before looking back at Opie as you made your way into the garage. 

“Nah, he might be insane but he’s good with the kids and having him around actually puts me at ease.” 

“If this is you at ease, I’d hate to see you tense.” Opie teased you again as the garage door closed. 

“Why don’t you and this jelly bean here go look for the kids.” Your arms still crossed as your eyes rolled. 

“You wanna go find Abel, Ellie, and Kenny?” Opie bounced up and down to wake up his daughter. “I’ll give you a popsicle if you find them all.” His voice raised as he incentivized the girl who was suddenly wide awake. 

“Let’s go!!!” She kicked as he placed her down and she hit the ground running. “C’mon Mom, let’s go!!!” She called out to you. 

Opie smirked and threw his arm around you, “yea, let’s go.” 

[fleetingofthegretas]

Slow or fast? Danny Wagner x reader

Preview: Your boyfriend Danny Wagner, the drummer of Greta Van Fleet invites you to the bar with his bandmates but you decline, having to get things done around the house. Your boyfriend returns home drunk as ever & comes home with one thing in mind, one thing that he wants. You. How can you say no to your greek god of a boyfriend? Not to mention what you know will happen when you wake up, some fluff & sweetness with a side of hangover to fill your morning.

MENTIONS OF/ TW: !Drunks3x, fluff, Oral M receiving, teasing

November. Its a calm chilly day in the city of Nashville, Tennessee where you reside with your boyfriend Daniel. You're home alone, despite the company of your old grumpy cat, Greta. Danny gave you Greta as a valentines day gift when you hit 2 years of dating. Seems like it was just yesterday when she became a new edition to your small little family you were slowly building.

A smile creeps upon your lips as you recall the memory of when he brought your sweet kitty home. You were stuck in Traffic so you had shown up after Danny was already home. You walked into your house to see Danny sitting on the couch with a huge smile on his face.

"Hey honey sorry I'm late I totally got caught behind an accident. Just looked like a fender bender so I don't think anyone was hurt. What's up with that smirk on your face? What did you do?"

He erupts with laughter at your remark. "I didn't do anything sweet girl. I did get you a gift though".

He scoops you up in his arms and lays you on your shared bed.

"Oh? Is this the gift?" You ask as you start to undo his belt, looking up at him with big eyes.

Something furry rubs against your back scaring you halfway to death. You immediately drop your hands from his belt to see what the heck is with you in bed, only to see its the elder cat you've been keeping an eye on at the nearby shelter for the past few months.

"Daniel oh my god! When did you get her??"

"Last night before I came home. I had forgotten what you said her name was but I did remember that she was gray and orange. They only had 2 gray & orange cats but the other one was a kitten, so I decided to get the older one instead. Funnily enough her shelter name was Greta, so I felt like it was meant to be."

"Where was she this whole time? & how did you know I wanted the older one instead of the kitten?"

"Well I asked if any of the boys could watch her just while I waited to finally surprise you. Sam of course replied with he hates cats, and Josh just never answered his phone. Jake ended up offering to take her in for the night. I think he secretly loves cats and doesn't want to admit it. As for getting the older cat instead of a kitten, that's because kittens will get adopted faster than the elders, and I had seen that Greta was at the shelter for so long, I figured you and I could give her a new life".

"Oh Daniel you are too kind for this world. I think I want to keep her name as Greta, it seems to fit her and you're right. It is meant to be".

Gray and orange fur rubs against your foot, waking you up from your daydream. You glance at the clock which loudly reads 3pm. 2 more hours till Danny gets home. Luckily you have a lot to do today which keeps your mind occupied. The entire day you've been out and about. At 10 you had brunch with your friends, just catching up and drinking mimosas together. By 12 you were shopping on your own getting things for the house. You had an odd list of things you and Danny needed.

Avocados, Planter pots, Organizing containers, guitar picks, toothpaste, and laundry detergent

You smirk a bit at 'guitar picks' in Danny's messy handwriting, probably written this morning when he was rushing out the door to meet at the studio with the boys.

Danny's guitar picks have been going m.i.a. recently as Greta has found a new love for smacking them off the coffee table and scattering them around the house.

You are so focused on repotting plants & putting your shared record collection into new organizers that you don't even hear the door open. Before you know it, you feel two strong arms wrap around your waist and pick you up off the floor, making you scream.

"Hi babygirl I've missed you, crazy day in the studio" He sets you down to give you a quick kiss.

"I've missed you too! Could've used your help reaching the box of screws in the garage today, I hate using the stool. I'd rather just have a big tall man like you to get it for me" You give your biggest pout you can and look up at him with your big eyes causing him to blush

"Oh I'm so sorry I wasn't there to assist you, my princess."

"I love it when you call me that. What are you up to tonight? Hanging out with the boys or what?"

"Yes, actually. We made plans to try out a bar we've never been to before. I'm super stoked. You can come with if you want"

"That sounds like so much fun but I have to finish getting stuff done around the house tonight. I'm in cleaning mode so I can't stop now. I hope you and the boys have lots of fun though! Send me a text when you're on your way home but I might be asleep depending on how late you'll be."

"Sounds good baby. I love how well you take care of the house. I'm not sure when I'll be home. Maybe 11? 1? I'm not sure. If you get lonely, there's a bottle of Moscato in the fridge & a fluffy friend to cuddle with. Love you my sweet girl."

He gives you a kiss, holding either side of your face with one of his hands.

Before you know it, he's gone again. You don't mind it though, because you have to deal with him being gone for tours and such. God you loved watching him play, and got excited every time the band would come close to home so you could see it in person. Not to mention the after show sex. Danny would always wait for you backstage super sweaty, pumping with adrenaline. You loved when you got to see that side of him. He was always super confident and aggressive, which you don't get to see too often with your mellow & kind-hearted boyfriend.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You just changed into pajamas, the red satin set Danny got you for your birthday this past year. You sit by the fireplace, incense freshly burnt, book out, cat on your lap, with a cold glass of wine in hand. You think about your rockstar boyfriend and how truly amazing your life is.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Glass breaking. You jolt upwards, finding you have fallen asleep on the couch, right where you were before.

What the hell was that?

"Hello? Danny?" you yell out into the darkness

no response. You walk further in the dark, met with a light from the kitchen. Danny is stood over the sink trying to clean up a broken glass he had toppled over.

"What the hell Danny? What time is it?"

"Please don't be mad baby. It's 3 am"

"Are you okay? Are you hurt? I heard the glass break."

You walk over to him and start turning his hands over. Front and back. Left. Front and back. Right. You look up at his face with concern. Not a single cut. You look back up at him and meet his eyes. He has been watching you the entire time. Examining him with deep worry just for nothing to be wrong.

"I'm fine, my princess. I just had stumbled a bit and the cup fell over. Not even a scratch on me, I promise."

You stand on your tip toes to wrap your arms around his neck, the type of hug you always give him after he causes you to lose your shit. This time being that you thought there was an intruder in your house. You sigh heavily into the nape of his neck and then release. You give him a small smile and walk to your bedroom, his drunk ass following lazily, and a little zig-zagged. You wonder how much he's had to drink if he's having this much of a hard time. After all he drinks with the Kiszka's all the time so he has built up his tolerance.

You yelp after feeling your boyfriends hand slap your ass and give him a glare. Danny is simply grinning ear to ear, eyes squinted. You finally approach your bed. All of a sudden you're in the air, then you're not.

You look up, out of breath, to see Danny standing above you with a look in his eye. "Have you been good for Daddy while I've been gone?"

What the fuck. WHAT THE FUCKKKKK????

You stare at him with your mouth open, completely in shock of what he just said to you. You can't help but admit to yourself that this turns you on and you're already becoming a waterpark in your panties. You gather yourself enough to respond after realizing he's waiting for you to answer.

"Yes sir"

"Good girl. Go into the bathroom. I'll be here. When you come out I don't want you wearing anything but those pink panties of yours."

"Yes Danny"

He gets off of you so you can stand up. You look at him and can tell he knows you like this. Which you do, its pretty obvious based on how you're holding up. You do as you're told and walk straight into the bathroom without looking back. You take off your top first. You then take off your silk shorts and take a glance at yourself in the gold mirror in the corner of the bathroom. You feel a rush of nervousness run over your body. To see Danny look at you in this sense. It is your first time having him be so dominant. Sure you've done stuff close to this in the past- but never this level. But god its hot. You take a deep breath as you fix your hair and open the door. You gasp at the sight before you. Danny is sitting on the corner of the bed closest to you, laid back with his elbows propping him up, completely undressed with his hardness laid out before you.

You don't realize what you're doing until he points it out.

"Close your mouth Darling. Come close, I don't bite- unless you want me to of course. Come take your seat."

You understand exactly what you're supposed to do in that moment. You make 3 swift movements, now almost straddling him save for a few inches. You hover your center above his length, until he locks eyes with you. You make direct eye contact as you slowly sit down and grind against him. He lets out a breathy sigh

"Fuck baby. But that's not what I planned."

He rolls you flat onto your back so now you've switched spots. He hovers his hand over the spot you want him to touch you at but never makes contact.

"Do you want me to touch you baby? Say it"

"I do"

"Beg"

He crosses his arms and looks upwards, waiting for you.

"Jesus fuck danny please just touch me"

"Yes my princess"

He starts rubbing you in circles, making you release stiff breaths from beneath him. He suddenly moves your underwear to the side, slipping two fingers deep within you. You start panting from the feeling building inside you. He's going so fast you feel like you will erupt. He pulls his fingers out and completely stops.

"Danny what the hell?!?" You start getting frustrated with him. You jump at him trying to get him to come back down on you. He instead pushes you off gently without saying a word. He grabs the hairtie off your wrist and puts your hair up for you. You know you now have to pay the favor back to him. He tilts your head back to face him to show you his dark eyes, suddenly darker. He doesn't even have to say anything. You move to the edge of the bed and take him in your mouth. Deep. You swirl your tounge around his tip and use your hands, twisting them as you pump him off. He knows how much you enjoy doing this for him. You continue pumping him while sticking your tounge out. You look up at him but all you're met with is his adam's apple. He has his head thrown back, feeling into every movement you give to him. This only makes you go faster, as more motivation of what its doing to him. Your rockstar boyfriend. He starts to twitch from within your mouth.

You stop. Just like he did from you, teasing, taking the release that he needed. He looks at you angrily and frustrated. "Y/N, now you're gonna get it." Your face displays a wicked smile because you know exactly what you're doing and you disobeyed him. He pushes you backwards and immediately is in you. Kissing you. hands propped on either side of your head. His balls are slapping against you every second. You've never had a fast fuck, let alone a frustrated one. Your eyes roll back into your head due to the intense feeling he is giving you.

"Fuck you feel so good baby. You're so wet"

"Danny- f-f-uck" You mutter as he puts his one hand on your throat and slams into you even harder. He keeps going, but eventually slows down. You have no idea where this comes from, but you somehow flip him and are now riding him. Making out, both giving each other the same look, the same look of need. You need him and he needs you. You start to feel yourself giving in so you slow down. He feels this too- He grabs you to hold you in place and starts thrusting in to you from below. You cry out to him "Fuck!" and a tear falls down your face from all the emotions of ecstasy you're feeling all at once. Danny finishes inside you simultaneously.

You ride him slowly, giving him soft kisses before dismounting him and falling into bed beside him.

He goes to the bathroom to return in boxers & holding a washcloth. He cleans you up and puts a new pair of underwear on you, while planting a kiss to your forehead. You slowly fall asleep knowing you're in his comfort.

"Goodnight, my princess" You hear him say softly as you go in and out of sleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Light. There's light in your eyes as you squint and stretch yourself awake. 10 am, the clock reads. You roll over to see dark curls, the curls that you adore so much. You smile widely at the thought of last night. You look around your room only to see Greta sitting on the floor, glaring at you. Poor kitty normally sleeps in your bed. You giggle to yourself at the thought of Greta being "punished" because her parents were busy making love.

You turn to give danny a kiss on the cheek as a good morning attempt. You brush your hand over him, to find out that he had discarded his boxers sometime in the nighttime and had morning wood.

"Why goodmorning my sweet boy" You say while running your left hand over his happy trail, right arm propping your head up. He stretches out, putting his arms out to pull you in closer to him.

"Good morning baby girl. I hope I wasn't too much for you last night. I had a lot to drink at the bar."

"Oh baby you're never too much for me, and you won't ever be, even if you make me call you daddy"

"I did what"

You both start laughing together, which ends in a tired make out session interrupted by yawning and something poking you in the leg, which turns your face red.

"Danny?"

"Yes baby?"

"You can do anything you want to me and I will still love you. I don't think I will ever stop adoring you"

He replies with a big smile, as you then kiss that big smile of his, and line him up with you. He smirks at the touch and goes in. You both release a breath, facing each other in bed. Slow, soft, and lovingly. This type won't ever beat anything, not even post concert sex. It is the most loving thing to experience and you know Danny feels the same way.

So there you are, looking at each other completely glazed over with love while he's inside of you, making love lazily to you.

The end!! <3

NOTE from the author: None of these pics are my own and I do not claim them. All found from Pinterest. This is my first fic/ smut I've ever wrote so I hope at least one person out there likes it.

[mothxmoons]

Chris’ roommate

You were Chris’ roommate, a civilian, a teacher, his old friend. Just a chance visit at his office when he forgot his pack was met with an encounter that you could never forget.

You were cleaning up your room, you couldn’t find something so you just decided to sort through everything until you found it. So you were in your room for…a while. Chris even came in to let you know that he was leaving for work, that’s how early you got up and went looking for…aw dammit you forgot what you were looking for. You could always finish this later, you need to stretch. You opened your door to go out to the living room, it was a nice apartment, given that you and Chris lived together, you two could afford a nicer apartment.

You were his friend from middle school, you helped with Claire after their parents had died, you were his best friend and the only person he has not dated in high school. He was…a bit of a heartbreaker back then, and he hadn’t exactly stopped either but he has mellowed out drastically compared to back then. You used to have a crush on him but you never actually told him that. You figured it wouldn’t work out so you never said anything, moved on, and then moved in with him as a roommate. You shook your head, clearing your thoughts, before seeing a certain work bag left next to the door.

“Chris…” You groaned, usually he remembered to bring his things but some times you’d have to remind him. You looked over to the clock on the wall, hoping he could still turn around to grab it. But it had been an hour since he left though, so he must be at work by now.

You sighed, grabbing the bag and heading over to the landline in the kitchen, dialing in the RPD work line.

“Chris, you left your bag here.” You said to him as soon as you were patched through to his desk phone.

“Oh! Shit. I can’t believe I forgot it.” Chris groaned, you could hear the laughter of someone in the background and the creak of his chair. “Could you bring it over? Captain Wesker would kill me if I left to go grab it.”

“Chris…” You groaned, looking over to the kitchen. The dumbass forgot his lunch too. “Fine. I’ll bring you your lunch too, idiot.”

You could hear another laugh over the line, but Chris didn’t seem to care.

“Oh! The lunch you made me! Oh please bring that too!”

You remembered him asking if you could make him lunch yesterday since you had the day off the next day, today, as you had an appointment that got cancelled last minute. He was always a sucker for the food you made him, ate everything, would probably eat the plate too if he could. You hung up, grabbing the lunch you prepared for him yesterday, and went out the door.

Driving wasn’t much of a hassle and finding a parking space wasn’t either. The police station was big though and you did have to ask the front desk where Chris Redfield was but they were more than happy to help. You could only hope they didn’t think you weren’t the new girlfriend. Shaking off whatever your mind could come up with you walked up the stairs to the second floor, following the directions the front desk gave to the STARS office. With his bag over your shoulder and his lunch in hand you immediately walked in and dumped it into his lap.

“Care to remember and not make your roommate come all this way?” You asked as his teammates looked at you, they had very wide eyes or arched eyebrows.

“Aw! Roommate? But we’re friends!” He insisted, he was teasing of course, making you roll your eyes and push his head.

“I would sell you to the devil for a penny.” You replied, a woman holding her mouth to hide a chuckle from her.

“Jill!” Ah, so that’s her name. You remember that she’s one of the two people he’d often talk about often when he spoke about work, the other one was-

“Chris, what’s going on?” A new voice spoke, making you turn away from your roommate and to the new man. He was tall, blonde and wore sunglasses inside which you found ridiculous. But…he looked damn good in uniform so you supposed it could slide. Everyone else seemed to tense up and focus on their work, trying to look like they’re not eavesdropping.

“Oh! Captain Wesker, my uh…my roommate was dropping off some things I forgot at home!” Chris said quickly, he was nervous. You remember that name, Wesker was his boss Chris would complain about.

“Roommate? So you do exist. I thought he was using roommate as an excuse to miss work from time to time.” His voice was so nice, you had to admit you could listen to it forever.

“I wouldn’t put it past him.” You agreed, you never asked for Chris’ help a lot, if at all, so if he used you as an excuse to skip work…yeah that sounds like him.

“Hey!” Chris yelled out, a little flustered.

“Unsurprising, your roommate agreed, huh, Chris?” Wesker teased along with you, it seems like he enjoyed doing this to him too.

“Hey!!” Chris was pissed now, two people teasing him at once, what a laugh! The others seemed to be trying to keep themselves from laughing as well.

He groaned, dropping his bag on the floor and his lunch on his desk, and stormed off, probably to the bathroom, to cool down.

Wesker turned to you after watching Chris storm off, putting out his hand and introducing himself.

“I’m Albert Wesker, Captain of STARS.” He smiled slightly, shaking your hand. You introduced yourself as well, smiling back. “I have to be honest, I didn’t think he had a roommate at all for a while. Thought he was dropping work for a girlfriend.”

“Eh, I wouldn’t be surprised.” You shrugged, pointing at the things you brought. “I was just dropping off the things he left at home.”

“That sounds like Chris.” He nodded, he seemed to be enjoying talking to you. He pointed at the lunch on Chris’ desk curiously. “Chris doesn’t normally have his own lunch, usually he goes out.”

“Ah- yeah, Chris had asked I make him lunch for today since I have the day off.” You replied, looking over to the bag and back at him. “Can’t believe he forgot it.”

Wesker nodded and politely walked you to your car all while talking to you. The others seemed surprised when he did that, that he even talked to you for more than an introduction.

According to Chris later that day, Wesker seemed happier the rest of the day. You were glad you got to make someone happier just by talking to them. Although you couldn’t help but be curious what kind of guy he was. Especially since he didn’t seem to be liked being called by his first name by others. Oh well. You had work to do tomorrow.

Wesker was in a good mood, to put it simply, even as he went to Umbrella for even more work to do, he met someone new who didn’t make him feel like he wanted to strangle someone. He was working late that night in the lab with William, probably his only actual friend in the city. Typing away at a report when Annette came into the lab.

“You need to pick Sherry up tomorrow, I have a meeting with some of the scientists.” Was all she said and she didn’t even wait for an answer before leaving the room. She always seems to do that, state something to someone and then just leaves. Wesker has no idea why William married her but it’s not his life.

William turns to him, looking at him with a face that says, “I’m going to ask something of you.”

And he did, “We only have the one car.” Of course that was it. Wesker sighs and he knows damn well he’s not going to let William drive his car alone.

“Where is the school?” He asked, almost in a defeated tone. William smiled and handed him a flier about the school, this is definitely a school Annette picked out. Good area, nice neighborhood, great graduation statistics. Just a good school overall it seems. He sighed again, rubbing his brow.

The next day came faster than he hoped, William would never shut up about Sherry. Wesker knew why and he can see why, Sherry is his best friend’s daughter and he loves her. Sherry is very sweet, a little shy and very smart. William does have a lot to be proud about. And he knows it too, as he goes on and on about her and what her teacher tells him about her learning. Wesker thinks that after what he and William went through, he wouldn’t want his kid going through that either. He almost zoned out at William talking about Sherry before William’s arm almost slammed against his chest pointing at the school, causing him to swerve a bit before they got over to the building safely.

William was very excited to be picking up Sherry, he always was, so excited he grabbed Wesker by the forearm and dragged him to her classroom. Even when he had offered to stay in the car so he can pick her up and spend some time with her. He supposed there are some similarities between Annette and William. He stared at the big door of the classroom, decorated with names of the students, and the teacher’s name on the top of the door.

William was essentially bouncing up and down, he made them get here early just to talk to the teacher. And as soon as the last bell rang, he opened the door and called out for her, Wesker following a little awkwardly. So many little kids stared up at them, mainly at him and “whispered” about his glasses.

Sherry ran up to them and hugged her dad before taking him over to the teacher’s desk, this must be a common occurrence. However, Wesker was surprised to see you sitting there. Leaning up from getting something from the bottom drawer of your desk. He immediately walked over, watching you and William talk about Sherry.

As soon as William was distracted by Sherry showing him what her class did that day, he walked up to you.

“What a coincidence this is.” He says, gaining your attention from one of the other kids giving you a drawing they made for you. He smiled softly, out of the corner of his eye he could see William making the stupidest smug face he had ever seen. But ignored him in favor of talking to you.

“Wesker. A pleasure to see you again.” You replied, smiling such a sweet smile to him. He could feel himself relaxing, which was a surprise to him.

“The pleasure is all mine. I didn’t know you were a teacher.” He said, wanting to keep the conversation going.

“Well, I don’t normally talk about my job since Chris is usually asleep the second he comes home.” You were smiling as he sat across from you, William and Sherry watching the whole exchange happen.

He nodded and asked, “What made you want to be a teacher?”

You gestured to the drawings your students had given you over the year, even one from Sherry it seemed.

“I get to teach a new generation of children every year. I get to see them grow up and learn.” You seemed so fascinated and genuine in your career. That’s a breath of fresh air for him, someone who cares for their job because of what they get to do for others. He nods, understanding where you’re coming from.

Even as the kids start to leave, you chat with Wesker, he doesn’t even seem to care he’s sitting in a very small seat where he looks ridiculous, still in his captain uniform too. It’s William that tells him they have to go, instead of the other way around like Wesker thought it’d be like.

“Mr. Wesker? Are you going to marry my teacher?” Sherry asked suddenly as they walked into the parking lot. “I think you two would be cute together.”

“Wh-what? Sherry!” Wesker said, surprised at her blunt response. William laughed and nudged his shoulder.

“She’s got a point, old friend.” William chimed in, setting Sherry up in the backseat.

“William.” Wesker says pointedly at his friend, but he can’t help but imagine that. Married to a teacher who can cook and take care of kids so genuinely. He’ll have to say sorry to Chris for taking his roommate and making them his spouse, but he wouldn’t actually be sorry. William laughed again, opening up the passenger side and getting into the car.

As they drive off back to the lab, Wesker thinks he might just become the go-to pick up for Sherry.

[stevenbasic]

Growing into the Job, Post 347: A Sunday at Melissa's, p5

We were there in my bedroom for - how long? An hour, more? Bonding, dry nursing, gazing into one another’s eyes with him all bundled up on my lap. Time went so quick when we were together! All I know is that I’d heard my mom’s weird clock chime at one point; otherwise I didn’t pay too much attention to time...we had alllll Sunday, just the two of us. It was rainy outside so there was nothing better to do today than snuggle snuggle snuggle together. Bond bond bond him to me. He certainly seemed to be liking it so far! All cuddled up into me like a bug in a rug, he’d finally calmed down and seemed at peace after his almost-dying in the pool earlier. My nipple in his mouth helped I think haha. He was getting so good at this, dry-nursing, relaxing, zoning out into my breast, and I was getting the hang of exactly what parmo…phairm…perfumes to use, which ones to release out of my nipple and breast to keep him relaxed and happy and focused on me while he did this. It was like I could watch and feel his brain cells responding to me, lining up for me, changing and starting to behave like good little boys for me. Meanwhile he just sort of nuzzled and cooed and suckled and when it all became too intense for him I’d let him rut his little hips into me, through the towel I’d swaddled him in. He’d come against the weight of the underside of my breast, or against my hand and it felt so nice, tingly. I could feel the bliss shivers in the girls, too; they’d all gone home but I’m sure they appreciated this haha. Maybe he did that twice, maybe three times, and dozed in and out a bit after, once woken by more chimes. My insides would get all gooey, just watching him wake up next to my nipple and immediately go back to sucking. 

Aren’t you the lucky little man? Being with the hot, big-boobie mommy giantess wifey you’ve always wanted? Because that’s what I’m turning into for you, aren’t I?

I swear I could have sat there with him like this forever. Eventually, though, I’d heard his little tummy start to rumble and as much as we were enjoying ourselves, I’d figured I should pull him off and get him to eat for real. I wanted to dress him up cute in some of the comfy stuff I’d picked up for him on my shopping trip with Shanette yesterday, a new pair of gray sweatpants and a matching top. But the new little underpants I bought him didn’t fit around his, um, penis. He seemed to be getting smaller everywhere but there! Maybe if I wasn’t in the room, and it wasn’t quite so hard all the time, he’d have an easier go at it. But in the meantime…

“Ohh honey with you all excited like that, you just don’t fit in the cute little underwear I bought you. You’re such a big boy down here! Come here and let me help you put on your pants,” I giggled. We’d stood, and he was standing there all naked. “I don't want you to hurt yourself trying to stuff it inside." With that I pushed him back onto the bed in front of me. He looked so surprised when I lifted his little toosh so I could get the sweatpants up and over his thighs and his hips and his nngh hard I want to do that again but it’ll have to wait. Breakfast first!  "You’ll just have to go without underpants until we come up with something else.”

The look on his face was too much when I gave him a little slap on his bottom.

Omigod if I had my way I’d dress you every day! You’re too adorable! Watching him blushing like that just got my mommy-juices flowing, and made me really laugh. 

Anyway, I was still feeling overprotective of him all through cooking him breakfast. I’d immediately regretted sitting him up on that high stool at the kitchen bar, worried that he might fall and hurt himself. Silly, right? But still, I wanted him to watch me cook, fixing up the eggs and sausage patties I was going to make into breakfast sandwiches and perched there at the bar across from the stovetop he’d have a perfect spot to watch me cracking eggs. Just like I’ve done to you this weekend, huh? Cracked you open? He watched, and he even yelled at me to be careful when I put my hand right down on a still-orange-hot ceramic burner. I pulled it right back, on instinct - it was warm for sure, but really didn’t hurt at all! He was a little freaked out by it, eyes as big as saucers, not believing what he was seeing. I guess you’ve got a fireproof girlfriend, huh? I was tempted to put my hand right back down on it, palm flat, look him in the eyes, show you what I can do. Anyway, I was more worried about him - those seats were so tall! He could slip off and fall! But, yes, I guess I was just being a nervous nelly because he was fine and finally I got to sit alongside him, on his left, on a stool of my own, to make sure he stayed safe. 

“You haven’t drank any of your juice,” I commented nodding at the little glass I’d filled for him as I cut up his sausage patty into teeny tiny pieces, “I could pour you some milk but you should get your vitamin C.” After a little thought I’d figured it’d be best if he just had his eggs and sausage like normal on a plate, not a sandwich. Easier to eat and chew and not choke. 

“Yeah huh,” he mumbled, like he was distracted by something, like my not-burnt-up hand got him thinking too hard. Since I’d sat him down, and as I cooked, I’d felt he was a little distant. He was definitely being quiet. So as I sliced up his food next to him, I made sure to take in a nice deep breath and swell up my boobs in my top, a black tank with white piping. If you’re going to be distracted by something, I want it to be me. 

“Is everything alright?” I asked. Wow, so serious. I don’t know if I like that. Just look at my boobies. 

He finally spoke. “Thank you for saving my life today.”

Oooo. That’s what was distracting you? Me being your superhero? Well, that’s okay haha.

“Oh, it was my pleasure!” I laughed, waving him off. I didn’t want him to think that I thought it was a huge deal. It’s just what I do now. But it did fill me with a little pride, knowing I had his life in my hands like this, that it’s only because of me he’s still breathing. “But maybe I deserve a raise!” <giggle!>

To that he gave me a funny look, But just then, suddenly, she was on the counter, between us, the little ball of fur.

“Tiger!!” I exclaimed, thankfully remembering the right name even in my surprise, “Bad boy!” I pushed her away - she’d immediately gone for his meal - but she was obviously hungry and persisted. “Shoo! Don’t be such a brat!” I said, as I reached with my left arm across the bar to grab another small plate and slide the platter of extra scrambled eggs and sausage towards myself. “Don’t worry I’ll feed you,” I said, as I forked over a patty and some eggs, about the same amount I’d served to him. I began to cut them up into teeny tiny pieces. She was now staring at the plate, trying to be patient. “What a hungry boy this morning, huh?” I said. 

Watching me make a plate for ‘Tiger’ that looked just like the one I’d made for him, Jay spoke up. “You do know that's a female cat, right?" he said, like he was telling me something new.

"Oh of course!” I said,  “I just like to tease her!” 

At that, he shrugged and set to pushing his food around his plate with his fork, satisfied with my explanation. I’m sure you’re thinking ‘that's really weird’. But that’s me! Yep you’re stuck with the crazy girl!

I set the plate of cat food on the floor - “No kitties on counters!” I told her, just to piss her off - and she jumped down for it. Me, myself? Yes! I was hungry! I’d loaded two sausages and eggs onto some toast and started digging into it sandwich style. It was actually pretty good - I didn’t burn anything! My cooking skills were improving haha!! 

Now that I was done cooking, I let him watch me eat. Feeling him watch my jaw, my throat muscles, how my neck moved gave me a warm dominant feeling. He watched my hands, so big around the sandwich. He watched my lips, my teeth, my nom nom RAWR mouth haha just open up reeeeeal wide and BITE. He had such an intent look in his eyes, I loved it. And when I put my sandwich down to reach up and release the loose ponytail I’d put in, his jaw sorta haha fell open and he watched my hair cascade down around my shoulders. 

“Y-your hair looks longer,” he said.

“Yeah I didn’t cut it yet today,” I replied, reaching behind my neck and fluffing it out, letting it all fall now halfway down my back. His look was so precious! That obviously confused him: who needs to cut their hair every day? Me! I do! Ever since I met you.

“You’re still not drinking your juice,” I finally said, trying to keep my concern from making me sound too nitpicky. “You’ve had a big weekend, you need your energy,” I continued, pressing him. He just sort of looked at his little glass, not really saying too much, so I took it and gulped it but didn’t swallow. In my mouth for a moment I let it warm up or whatever, watched him watching me, and spit it all back into his glass.

“You know what to do,” I said, as I slid it back to him with a soft smile. I know, baby. I know what you need, it’s okay.

Without much delay at all - well, maybe a little, he looked embarrassed - he drank it. A few sips, then a bit more. OOOoooo that was exciting, so funny, watching him! I could feel my eyes sparkling, eagerly. That’s where we are, honey, you and me. It’s fine. You need me for this sort of thing. “Would you like more?” I asked. 

“No thank you.”

"Baby you have to eat, get some energy" I cooed in his ear as I leaned in closer to him, blanketing him with my perfumes. "It will help you keep up with me. Don’t you want to be able to do that?" I looked down at his plate, which was basically untouched. I promise it wasn’t me! My cooking was actually now pretty good! With his fork I speared a piece of sausage, one I’d cut for him into a little morsel, and chewed it up a bit, more than I normally would. He let out the cutest little moan as he watched me chew. Do you know what’s about to happen? Then, my free hand went behind his head and I leaned in for a kiss. “C’mre, baby,” I said, around the bit of sausage, right before our lips met, “give me a kiss.”

The sparks, yes, as usual - our kisses were always so exciting! - but I used my tongue to push the chewed-up bit of sausage into his mouth. I felt him stiffen, a little shocked or surprised, but when I sealed my lips back up and backed off a bit, I knew he knew what he needed to do. I watched as he chewed it a bit, even though he didn’t need to, and swallowed,

Oh my god I’m chewing his food for him now!

Without even letting him get the chance to talk, to complain or argue or feel embarrassed, I forked and chewed up another bit of sausage, this time with some nice soft buttery scrambled eggs. Mushed all up, I kissed and pushed it into him again. This time, he didn’t even try to chew on his own; he just swallowed.

“You…you like my cooking, huh?” I said, getting a little - haha, omigod! Look at your face! - hot under the collar, warm in my chest. It was, now that I think back on it, the first real feeling of the swelling in my breasts that would get to be such a part of my life soon. When he nodded, acknowledging that yes yes yes you liked it, I waved my hand over my chest, fanning myself. “Sorry, but…you got my mama juices flowing all over again,” I told him, with a giggle.

I’d taken another forkful, a bit more this time, and had started to chew. He looked at me, his eyes all confused, and leaned back in his chair a bit. He wanted to show me something. He looked down at his own lap, and I did too. Oh my god! His penis was so hard! Sticking up, between his elastic waistband and belly, out from his gray sweatpants. It nearly got up to his, like, ribcage!

He only said one word. “W-w-why?” he asked me.

To that, I giggled, I laughed a little, and shrugged. I didn’t really know, but it all made sense! 

“I d-didn’t used to be like this,” he said, his voice all small and little and nnngh making me want to just forget the eggs and eat him up!

I could only come up with one thing to say, as I stood up. ”That was then,” I told him as my hand took hold of his erection, still chewing a bit as I - standing over him now - took his jaw in my other hand and raised his chin. I leaned in again to feed him, giving him a nice, purposeful squeeze down below. “This is now.” 

I could feel the hunger pheromones (that’s what they’re called!) totally pouring off of me. His mouth widened right up for me, his neck craning. “That’s right, open up for mama bird,” I said, and just opened my mouth to let my mouthful of food empty into him as I sealed my mouth around his. It sounds gross, maybe? But omgggggg it was so hot, feeling him take it, feeling his little neck and throat working, swallowing my offering.

“That’s right, take the food I bought for you, with my money, the food I cooked for you,” I said, as I lifted back up again, “Now the food I chewed for you.” What’s next baby? What’s our next step? What else can my body do for you? Help keep you fed and nourished?

Oh god I couldn’t help myself I took a big bite of my own egg and sausage sandwich and as I chewed it for him and made it extra mushy I hugged his head to my chest with one hand, and as I dropped my mouth again to his open one I started jerking him off.

Feed from me feed from me feed from me babyyyyyyy

He jerked a bit - actually a lot, his body went all stiff! - as I pushed even more of my wet, chewed food than before into our big kiss. I squeezed his face into my boobs and stroked and stroked and felt the warmth from him and even more in my chest swelling it was like almost tender-getting and I felt him swallow and he groaned and then he was exploding again in my hand oh god making a new mess. 

“That’s good, baby, that’s so good,” I purred, feeling him shudder against me, “come for mama bird.”  I also felt the girls out there all cooing and clucking in the Bliss, and I was so happy here knowing I wasn’t only feeding him but them too. I - me, Melissa Monroe, Melissssy - I could provide for everybody! 

I can’t wait!

================================================

More thanks to RiF, editor-at-large

Check out my Patreon for lots more from GITJ

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

Chapter 20

alright guys hit the showers. or the bathhouse. wait hold on i left my computer boy in there. guys wait don't open that

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

wow i wrote 10 pages for chapter 19 but i better take it easy so i dont burn out (writes 11 pages for chapter 20) anyway guess who's taking a break after this chapter

this is the one with togiri development but they're extremely not normal about it so it's almost blink-and-you-miss-it

@digitaldollsworld <- betapilled readmaxxer

Content warning tags: mild violence and injury description (non-graphic), description of depression symptoms and nausea, mild mention of eating disorder

< previous - from start - next >

He’s not sure how long he sleeps for, only that he wakes up still-dressed and laid out across his bed, his mouth dry and head groggy, the bedroom lights still on. As he checks his handbook’s clock, he finds he’s entirely missed Monokuma’s morning announcement, which is a good thing; he had no desire to listen to that bear’s irritating voice, especially not today.

But, he doesn’t have much desire to do anything else either. The library no longer feels like the safe haven it used to be, and he had no interest in going anywhere else and running into anyone else, when the atmosphere was still thick with the deaths of two people, and pity that Byakuya didn’t want. Much less, the possibility of encountering Makoto, who was the last person he wanted to see, so to speak.

He lies in bed a moment longer, unwilling to move. Everything feels sluggish, like he’s moving underwater; even his head feels stuffed full with cotton and wool. It's a strange, unfamiliar feeling, and unpleasant, too.

Grief. He thinks blearily at first, before rolling his own eyes at the thought, and pushing himself up with a grunt. Such dramatics didn’t suit him. He wasn't the kind of person to spare such theatrics, regardless of his circumstances.

He showers, brushes his teeth, and half-debates whether to try his hand at shaving before ultimately deciding against it (it didn’t feel like his stubble should be that noticeable, yet). He forgoes changing into a clean uniform in favor of his pajamas, and collapses back into bed with a sigh, hand searching immediately for his handbook - but finding nothing but empty sheets.

“Hello, there!”

He jerks upright immediately. Standing in the foot of his bed is Monokuma, rocking back and forth and looking as innocent as could be. Or, would be, if not for the handbook clutched in its paw.

Byakuya dives for it without thinking, but his perception is off, and he crashes to the carpet instead with a grunt. Monokuma sidesteps him casually with a laugh. “Whoa, there! Easy partner, don’t wanna hurt yourself!” It dances around his head, infuriatingly out of reach. “Didja miss me that bad? If you wanna hug, you can just say so!”

“Give it back,” He snarls, as he picks himself up. He’s in no mood for its jokes. “Give me back my handbook!”

“Your handbook? My my, but these were all mine first, weren’t they?” It shakes a paw disapprovingly in his face. “I just need to check it real quick, after all. I didn’t expect Mister Fujisaki to go and Macgyver anything onto here, so if it’s anything malicious, I’ll have to do a quick wipey-wipe!” Byakuya makes another lunge, and it juggles the handbook out of his reach, hopping backwards with a mad cackle. “After all, if it’s anything naughty, there’s no way I can let it fall in the hands of my precious students!”

“You miserable little-” Byakuya tries to rise to his feet quickly, but he hasn’t eaten since yesterday, and a bout of dizziness crashes into him like a wave. He sways and braces himself against the mattress, one arm still reaching out clumsily to try and grab at Monokuma.

But the bear has already flipped it open, scrolling so quickly through the screens that the little automated voice can’t keep up, the words blurring together. “Schoo-Stu-App-Day-”

“Whoops, too far.” It scrolls back. “Applications, that’s what we wanna see. And, what’s this?”

Byakuya feels his blood run cold. There was only one application there, the one Chihiro had downloaded for him. Alter Ego. The app was inconspicuously named ‘Test_App’ in the interface itself, but if Monokuma opened it-

“Well well well. Let’s take a look-see!” It crows, and Byakuya’s protest is frozen in his throat. He shuts his eyes, expecting to hear Chihiro’s voice-

“Black to E5.”

He opens his eyes again. What?

Monokuma also seems confused, tilting its head as it stares at the little screen. “What’s this? A chessboard?”

“Black to E5,” Alter Ego repeats, so digitized and monotone it was nearly unrecognizable. “Would you like to review the board?”

“Is this all it is? A chess game?” Monokuma sounds almost disappointed. Byakuya, seeing his chance, surges forward, snatching the handbook back and snapping it closed. He presses it to his chest, feeling his heart thud beneath it.

“Is that a problem?” He demands, and Monokuma shrugs, shaking its head.

“I guess not, but I thought it’d be something spicy, y’know? You’re a growing boy, after all!” It reaches out to pat Byakuya’s knee, and he steps backwards just in time, lip curling in disgust. “Aw, don’t act so mean to your headmaster, you’ll give me a complex!”

“Get out.” He hisses. “You got what you came here for. Leave.”

“Oh, alright…you sure know how to make a bear feel glum...” It sighs, kicking at the carpet, before it makes its way to the door. “Take care, now! Make sure you eat something, y’hear? I don’t want any hunger strikes in this house! And-”

No sooner had Monokuma crossed the threshold, had Byakuya jumped up, and sped forward to slam the door with a resounding bang. He takes a moment to breathe, leaning against the wall, legs suddenly weak.

How the hell did that thing get inside my room? He was sure he had locked the door - or he should have locked it, at least. Looking back, he actually can’t remember, but he double and triple-checks now, suddenly paranoid. He also flips off the light for good measure, leaving the room in complete darkness before he crawls back into bed.

Beneath the covers, he opens his handbook, and squints until he can make out the pale green shape of Alter Ego’s face on the screen.

“Is he gone?” Alter Ego asks, and Byakuya relaxes, the tension flooding out of his shoulders.

“Yes.” He whispers back.

Alter Ego makes a sound like a sigh of relief. “I’m glad. I got so scared when he grabbed me.” And its voice sounds so much like Chihiro's that Byakuya feels a strange pressure behind his eyes.

“How did you know?” He asks. “That Monokuma was there?”

“I could hear it. Through the microphone.” He reaches up and touches the tiny pinprick grid of the speaker, and feels the buzz of Alter Ego’s voice against his fingertips. “I didn’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Don’t worry about me. I think he would’ve just deleted you as punishment for me anyway.” He sighs. And then frowns, as a thought comes to mind. “If you could eavesdrop from the microphone this whole time, then you already know…?”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. But he doesn’t need to. Alter Ego makes a quiet noise like a sigh. “Yes, I know.”

“I’m sorry.” And he’s surprised to find that he means it genuinely, and almost laughs at himself. Heartfelt apologies were rare for him, and here he was offering one to an AI, of all things.

“It’s okay. He knew it might happen,” Alter Ego replies, and he imagines it might be smiling, a sad, helpless smile. “There’s nothing we can do about it now.”

“No, I suppose not.”

They’re quiet for a moment. In the darkness, Byakuya can almost pretend that he’s normal - unable to see in the dark as everyone else is. But it’s also the middle of the day, and he’s too restless to sleep, too uneasy to go outside. Too tired to mourn. Too mournful to do anything else.

“Can you really play chess?” He asks instead.

“I can, along with checkers, shogi, and backgammon and more.” 

“Play a round of chess with me, then. I’m bored.”

“Okay!” Immediately, the pale blot of their face on the screen is replaced by a square. “I’ll play black. What’s your first move?”

He smiles to himself. “E2, pawn to E4.”

—

Hours pass like that. He plays chess with Alter Ego (three wins, four losses, and seven draws), and a few rounds of shogi (one win, one loss, and two draws) for good measure. And then, huddled over his desk with his back facing the camera, he pores over lines of Dostoevsky and Nietzsche until he feels too sick from staring at the letters to even hear Alter Ego’s voice, reciting the words aloud beneath a dim ringing in his ears.

By the time he’s pulled out of his concentration by the sound of a knocking at his door, he’s too nauseous to feel hungry, but his throat is stinging from lack of water and there’s a slight pulsing in his head. His immediate first reaction is to ignore it, but that proves to be impossible; whoever was on the other side was clearly, very persistent, and had nothing better to do.

Even so, he lasts a full five minutes until he finally gets up to answer, irritated beyond measure. If it was Makoto, he was going to slam it closed again, reasons be damned. He didn’t even want to think about the other boy, lest he get pointlessly enraged about it.

But instead of brown hair, he’s met with pale white. Kirigiri stands at his threshold, hand partially raised, halfway through knocking, and they stare at each for a moment in silence, as if both surprised to find the other person there.

And then he slams the door shut in her face. Or tries to - instead of the satisfying bang of wood meeting wood, there’s a sickly crunch, and then she’s wrenching the door open, heedless of the way her fingers had just been crushed in the jamb. He almost winces in sympathy, but she’s too busy pushing her way in to offer much room for condolences.

“What is wrong with you?!” He demands, trying not to be too obviously perturbed by her lack of reaction; he doesn’t think he even heard her wince. She ignores him for a moment, attention focused on her hand, as she experimentally clenches and unclenches her fingers. Apparently they’re not broken, or maybe, she just had high pain tolerance. Or she was more insane than he thought.

“We’re calling a group meeting,” She replies, without so much as a waver. “Come to the bathhouse.”

“And why should I?”

“It’s important. I can drag you there if I have to.” It doesn’t sound like an empty threat either. Somehow, she seems impatient, though he’s not sure how he can tell; and it wasn’t just because she shoved her hand into the door in order to deliver the message.

He weighs his options - on one hand, he has no desire to speak with anyone, much less Makoto, who was bound to be there. On the other hand, he didn’t exactly have anything in the way of provisions in his room, and though he was still a little too light-headed to consider eating, it’d be embarrassing to collapse from dehydration at this point. That, and it seemed that Kirigiri had no intention of letting him refuse.

“...I’m going to get dressed first.” He says shortly. If he’s going to have to meet them, it will not be while he’s still in his pajamas.

“Hurry up.”

She makes no move to leave, and he realizes with no small amount of annoyance that she was making sure he wouldn’t be able to run or shut her out again. Somewhat affronted by this, and now wanting to go even less, he grabs a clean set of clothes from his dresser and goes to the bathroom.

Routine carries his hands through the motions, so he manages it relatively quick, but it’s only after he’s applying the finishing touches, that he nearly pokes himself in the eye as he reaches to adjust his glasses. It’s a strange sensation, feeling the bridge of his nose and finding nothing, and even though his original prescription was low and they were more an accessory than anything, he feels a little like he’s lost a limb.

She’s still there when he emerges, though now standing over his desk, bent over the books he has open. She looks up as he approaches, one hand halfway through turning a page.

“What?” He asks, chin turned up in challenge.

“Nothing. Just looking.” She closes the book, and he realizes, scandalized, that it was the one he was reading earlier. It was going to take him ages to find that page again. “You have predictable tastes.”

“Shut up. Are we going or not?”

He follows her out, his hands twitching all the while, smoothing down his shirt, his lapels, his sleeves. Making sure his buttons were lined up, that his shirt was tucked; he hadn’t had the time to put on garters or even try a hand at his tie, and he feels underdressed.

“You’re fine.” Kirigiri says suddenly, and he freezes, one hand resting on the button of a shirt cuff. “Stop fidgeting.”

He scowls. He was walking behind her, so what would she know. “I’m not fidgeting.”

“I can hear you fidgeting. Your buttons are fine.”

“Oh, can you hear my buttons now too?”

It’s a petty, childish remark, one that he can’t stop himself from muttering before he can even reconsider it. She stops at that, halting so suddenly in the middle of the hallway that he almost walks right into her, and turns around to face him, her head moving in a slow tilt from up to down - scanning me, he realizes - before she says: “You look fine. Are you quite done?”

She was checking for me. He’s not sure if he should feel grateful for the courtesy or irritated by her lack of grace. “Did the sound bother you that much?” He asks instead, patting down the front of his shirt one last time.

“...It wasn’t the sound.” Is all she says, with a sort of finality that indicated that no other questions would be answered on the topic.

They enter the bathhouse, and find everyone else there, gathered in a sort of semi-circle around the wall of lockers. Asahina and Ogami, predictably, are huddled close together on one of the benches. Celeste and Yamada sit on another bench, one fidgeting uneasily, the other sitting regally with legs crossed and hands folded. Hagakure is standing next to Owada, who doesn’t even stir when they walk in, and who Byakuya ignores in turn, gaze sliding past him uncomfortably. Fukawa hangs near the back of the group, and twitches when she sees him, though makes no move to approach.

Makoto is leaning against the lockers with hands tucked in his pockets. He looks up as they enter, and stands up straight immediately. “Ah-”

“We’re all here?” Kirigiri cuts him off, casting a glance around the room. “Good. Can you catch him up, Hina?”

“R-right,” Asahina looks between Kirigiri and Byakuya, then at Makoto, and seems to hesitate for a moment. “Um, so…last night, I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d go to the kitchen to get food. But on the way there, I heard something coming from the bathhouse - like, a weird, machine-y kind of sound? - and when I went in…”

She peters off. He raises an eyebrow, “And?”

“Uh, it’s going to sound a little ridiculous...”

“You act like nothing else is ridiculous about this situation. Get on with it.”

Her face flushes dark, embarrassed. He gets the feeling that Ogami is glaring at him, but since he can’t see it - and has no reason to act like he can see it, anyways - he ignores it easily.

“Right. I saw a ghost - I know it was a ghost,” She adds defensively, as Byakuya was preparing to scoff and roll his eyes. “It was glowing green and floating in front of the lockers, and…and it had Chihiro’s face.”

“That’s-” not a ghost, he’s about to say, but he stops, suddenly uncertain. The bathhouse had no cameras, but he wasn’t sure if Alter Ego’s existence should be revealed here, now, to everyone, especially given some of the individuals present. His hand reaches into his jacket pocket, where his handbook was. “That’s…and you’re sure it was Chihiro?”

She seems taken aback by how seriously he asks that, and nods quickly. “I know it was Chihiro! It was his face and everything!” She points in front of her, at a locker less than two meters away from her eye level. The exact locker, Byakuya thinks, where Chihiro was keeping his laptop.

He wonders if Makoto was thinking this too.

“...I highly doubt the existence of ghosts,” He sighs. There was no point trying to hide it with Kirigiri around, and better to do it now than later. “Instead of being in front of the locker, I think the thing you saw was inside it.”

He turns to the locker Asahina had indicated, and moves to unlock it - before realizing he doesn’t know how. If it was unlocked by key, he didn’t have it, and if by code it was even more impossible. But Kirigiri steps forward, nudging his arm out of the way, and the locker door clicks open under her hand.

Sitting inside is the laptop, its screen dark. After a moment, it hums to life, flickering green. A round, pale shape forms, and behind him, Byakuya hears someone gasp.

“Hello,” Alter Ego says, and their voice is clearer through the computer than through Byakuya’s handbook, and sounds so similar to Chihiro’s that it’s almost jarring. “It’s nice to meet everyone!”

Hagakure shrieks, arms thrown up in fear. “A g-g-gh-!”

“It’s not a ghost,” Byakuya cuts him off sharply. “It’s a program.”

“Yes, and it looks like something Chihiro made.” Kirigiri touches the keys lightly. “This computer was the broken one from the library. And the fact that it was placed here, out of sight of the mastermind, means that it was meant for us.”

“So, this is what I saw last night…” Asahina’s tone doesn’t sound uneasy anymore, but wondering, and she raises a tentative hand as the little Chihiro in the screen waves at her. “But, what is it?”

“You just asked, ‘what is it,’ right?” Alter Ego says, almost teasingly, making her and several others jump. “The short answer is, I’m an AI program based on as much of Chihiro Fujisaki’s personality, memories, and thoughts as he managed to transcribe into data…um, but if it’s easier for you, you can call me Alter Ego. I was made to try and break through the firewall around the school’s network and to analyze the files on this computer, but it’s been taking a long time. I’m only about 25% done.”

25%? That was already more than Byakuya expected, and he feels a thin, inexplicable strum of pride.

“Crazy…hey, isn’t this crazy?” Yamada is up from his seat, and sitting as close as he can, crouching on his heels to be eye-level with the screen. “This is so- so totally sci-fi, right? Isn’t the genre wrong?” He sounds excited, overly so, and his breath is a little fevered and fast. “Hey, Chihiro! Can you hear us?”

Alter Ego doesn’t respond. Byakuya suddenly remembers the night that Chihiro was installing the application on his handbook and how Alter Ego only ever responded after the sound of keystrokes. “You have to type what you want to say in order for it to respond.”

“Move.” Yamada scurries out of Kirigiri’s way, as she drops to a crouch in front of the open locker. There’s the sound of fingers clicking over keys, and then -

“It will take me a while longer to finish analyzing everything,” Alter Ego says aloud, a little sheepishly. “I can definitely finish it though! Actually, progress is moving faster than originally predicted, so you can leave it to me!”

“My, how dependable.” Celeste remarks. “It seems that Chihiro has left us an invaluable gift, does it not?”

“It’s…pretty crazy,” Hagakure agrees, scratching his head. “Wait, uh - can Alter Ego get online? Like can we call for help from outside?”

“Hmm, probably not.” Asahina hums in thought, crossing her arms. “We’re in a bathhouse after all.”

“Then, if we take it outside of here-”

“No.” Kirigiri says flatly. “We can’t take any risks. Taking it outside might mean that the mastermind will discover it.”

“Yeah, but, I think it’s better to get help sooner than later. You know…” He pauses for a moment, tilting his head pointedly towards Owada. Throughout this whole time, the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader had been as still as a mouse, face turned downwards towards the floor. Hagakure clears his throat awkwardly. “Can’t we try it?”

There’s a sharp tap as Celeste laces her fingers, rings clicking together. “As stated earlier. We cannot take unnecessary risks. And we are not in the position to be pointlessly altruistic.” Her tone is casual, but Hagakure seems to shrink away from her, defeated.

“I…okay. Fine, sure.” He scratches at his head, then pauses. “Ah, wait a minute. Does Alter Ego, like, know…?

His question peters off, but the implication hangs over them like a heavy fog. Byakuya watches them cast uneasy glances at each other, then back to Alter Ego, as if trying to figure out who should break the news.

“It already knows.” He mutters. He’s not trying to be loud, but in the silence everyone could hear it anyways.

“...Not to say you’re lying or anything, Byakuya, but how do you…?”

Instead of answering Hagakure out loud, he reaches into his jacket pocket and withdraws the handbook, flipping it open and holding it up, screen facing them. Someone gasps.

“Yes,” Alter Ego confirms their unspoken question, and its voice echoes uncannily, doubled between the laptop and his handbook. “Master made it so I can be accessed through Byakuya’s handbook, so I could assist him with his visual impairment. I can also access the microphone function on this device, so I was able…I was able to overhear what happened”

The little, buzzing voice trails off sadly, and Byakuya suddenly feels uncomfortable, as the room grows all the more dreary. He clicks the handbook closed, suddenly irritated.

“That should explain it.“ He sighs. “Chihiro built Alter Ego to try and help find a way out of here, and at the same time gave me access so I could be self-sufficient. That’s the extent of my knowledge about it.”

He looks up and finds nearly all of them with their faces tilted towards him, and shifts, disconcerted. “What?”

“Nothing…it’s just kinda sweet that you’re, like, telling us this yourself.” Hagakure, ridiculously, sounds almost happy about this. “You never really talked to us about yourself before.”

“There’s no point in being secretive about it. Not when I was already forced to reveal it during the trial.” He sniffs. Immediately, Hagakure looks away, chagrined. From Byakuya’s periphery, he can see Makoto still facing away, his ears turning pink.

Kirigiri clears her throat. “...For the time being, it’s clear that we need to ensure Alter Ego remains a secret from the mastermind.” She says, and Byakuya watches as she types something out, a thick line of black characters. Every few keystrokes, she stops, and deletes the last word in a series of light clicks; listening closer, the sound was awkward and irregular, each press slurring into the next key. With a slight twinge of guilt, he realizes that the cause of it was her left hand - the one he had practically crushed.

After a moment’s consideration, weighing his conscience with what was at stake, he nudges her slightly with his knee. “Move. You type too slow.”

“And how would you know that?”

“I can hear it.” He replies flatly. “You type like you’re all thumbs. Move over.”

He half-expects her to stay where she is, to ignore him and continue, but to his surprise she actually complies, standing up and stepping aside. He crouches into the space she had just abandoned, sliding his hands over the keyboard until his index fingers find the tiny, tell-tale grooves of the position keys. The size and dimensions are different from his computer at home, but for a moment the feeling is so familiar that he’s almost nostalgic.

“What did you want to ask again?”

“If it has any contingency measures in place for if Monokuma - or the mastermind, or anyone suspicious - happens to find it.”

His fingers skim over the keys, clicking fluidly. A thin line of black appears at the bottom of the screen in time to his movements, but he can’t confirm if the output is accurate; judging by the way Makoto gasps behind him, and the way Hagakure whistles, he can guess that it’s more or less correct.

“Impressive,” Celeste says, in an appreciative tone. “I suppose being such an esteemed heir means you have many talents.”

He can’t tell if she’s mocking him, so he decides to ignore her, though he allows himself a small amount of smugness. He finishes typing: “Is this what you wanted to ask?”

Instead of replying, Kirigiri leans over his shoulder and clicks the ‘enter’ button. After a moment’s pause:

“Hm, to be honest, so far I’ve just been trying to be reeeally careful with when I’m active…though I guess that backfired last night, with me scaring Aoi.” Alter Ego hums in thought. “But, I do have a secret plan! If anyone comes around who I don’t recognize on my webcam…I’ll scream super loud!”

“That’s so basic!” Asahina blurts out, shocked by the simple nature of it.

“Yes, and it’s not likely to work at night.” Ogami grumbles. “The bedrooms are soundproofed.”

“Maybe we can try taking turns staying up?” Makoto suggests. “I can take the first night, I don’t mind…”

“I think such a sudden change in our patterns is likely to draw suspicion from the mastermind. Which would be rather counterproductive.” Celeste says, and Makoto ducks his head immediately. “Though, your thoughtfulness is appreciated.”

“Then it can’t be helped.” Kirigiri sighs. “I’ll leave my door open. I’m at the end of the hallway anyways, so if anything happens, I should be able to react the quickest.”

What a crazy woman. “You’d leave yourself vulnerable?” He scoffs. After all the precautions he’s seen her take, it’s hard to imagine her sacrificing herself to any degree.

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take. Besides, I’m not so helpless. I have no intention of going down without a fight.” She pauses, mouth open like she’s about to say more, before she decides against it. “Anyways. We should avoid any mention or contact with Alter Ego as much as possible, to draw as little attention as we can.”

She claps her hands sharply, a sound that makes more than one person jump, and makes Byakuya almost flinch. “For the time being…let’s disperse.”

< previous - from start - next >

[wildemaven]

. . . The Rest

Paring: Frankie Morales x HairstylistF!Reader

WC: 2846

Warning: T; mentions of food, drinks, coffee, divorce, anxiety feelings.

A/N: This follow up is for the sweet @heythere-mel Because what happened after Frankie called?! I didn’t really have an intention of writing more but then Mel asked and my brain started spinning with more. And as I was writing this I was like, could this be the beginning of Weekends with Frankie and how they came to be (like if you squint just a little you can see it right??). Anyways, this isn’t beta’d and probably is a jumbled mess, my head feels like stuffed to the max, but thankfully on the mend. Enjoy.

Masterlist / Series Masterlist / Previous / Next

“It’s not— weird is it? It’s only been…”

His voice has a relaxed tone to it, shifting in his bed to catch the time on the bedside clock, its bright red numbers glowing against the darkness that is his bedroom— 12 am.

“Shit! We’ve been on the phone for 3 hours now!”

“Oh wow! Doesn’t really feel like it though. What were you saying about being weird?”

You immediately answered Frankie’s call on your drive home, picking up where you had left off at the sports bar. You both found you had an endless amount of things to talk about, never that awkward silence, each topic flowing from one to the next with ease.

“Oh yeah. You don’t find it weird wanting more time with someone you only just met? I don’t know what it is, but I just— I just feel so drawn to you in such a short amount of time.”

“Weird is someone not liking pineapple on their pizza.”

“That’s it— Sorry, it was nice knowing you…” You can’t help but laugh at his dramatics.

“Oh, shut up! I’ll eat your pineapple pieces Frankie!”

He’s right though, it feels like it should be a little weird how things are playing out, that you both hit it off so soon and can’t get enough of each other. And yet sometimes life has a way of making things work and it’s better to go with it than fight it.

“When can I see you again?”

A small yawn escapes before you can respond. “Hmm, when do you want to see me again?”

“Today.”

You laugh at that because it’s nearing 1 am and you can’t wrap your head around the fact that you went to work yesterday like any other day and now your talking on the phone like some giddy high schooler. It all just feels like a dream you don’t want to wake up from.

“Anyone ever told you you’re cute?”

“Yeah actually, my hairdresser said the same thing just yesterday.” You can’t see it, but you know that damn dimple has caved in just the perfect amount, paired with that incredible smile of his.

“Oh my god, Frankie! Are you going to hold that over my head forever?!”

“Forever sounds nice.” He says just above a whisper and there’s a soft emotion behind the way he says it..

“Frankie…” You feel dizzy, intoxicated by the affect Frankie is starting to have on you.

He says your name and your heart flutters at the way it falls from his mouth, a feeling you want to know for as long as you can.

“What is this? This thing happening between us? I mean— I like whatever it is.”

“Hmm— I like… whatever this is too. Feels— right. I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a long time.” You can’t help but smile at his confession, situating yourself further into your stack of pillows.

“So, you want to see me today?”

“Yeah, I’d really like too...” He tries to conceal his yawn. “Can I meet you for coffee? Say— 10:30?? I can text you the name of the place that has the best pastries in town.”

“That sounds perfect!”

“Alright, time for bed now beautiful.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” Your teeth catch your bottom lip, you definitely feel like a giddy high schooler.

“Yeah, I really do.”

“What am I going to do with you Frankie?”

“Let me take you to coffee— then we can figure it out.”

“Okay. Goodnight Frankie.”

“Night.”

You tuck yourself in, thoughts of today still running through your mind, Frankie at the forefront of them. Your limbs heavy as you drift off into an array of vivid colors, movie like imagery tickling your eyes with each breath you take in slipping further into a suspended realm.

*

Frankie already waiting for you when you pull into the parking lot of the cute little coffee shop he’d text you first thing this morning. Leaning up against his truck, his relaxed posture makes him somehow look more attractive. A comfy green shirt hugs his broad shoulders, his flexed forearms crossed over his chest— one sleeve pushed up just enough to see the pull of the muscles and tendons on display.

“Good morning beautiful.” He greets you with a smile as he pushes himself forward towards you, welcoming your arrival.

“Hey there handsome.” You’d practically skipped the rest of the way to him. All giggles and smiles when you finally got to where he’s standing.

Your arms around his waist, securing yourself to him, his hands clasped around your jaw as he leans in for a kiss. His lips tender and patient as they mold against yours.

“Mmm, I’ve been looking forward to that— it’s kinda becoming my favorite thing.” You smile against his mouth.

“Yeah??” Pulling you back in for seconds, savoring how you completely melt against him.

“Hi.” He says as his thumb brushes against your jaw, taking in your features up close in the morning light.

“Hey.” Your fingers find their way into his hair instinctually, he decided to forego his hat today, his effort in styling not lost on you. “Your hair looks good, I like it like this.” Combing a few strands off his forehead.

“Thanks. I tried to recreate what you did— I’ll get the hang of it eventually. Just know though, the hat will be making an appearance from time to time.”

“Hat or no hat— I truly like both.”

Frankie isn’t use to the heavy dose of compliments you keep sending him, but he likes the way he feels when you say them and finds himself feeling a sort of way about you when you do— he tucks the sentiment away for the time being.

*

You situate yourself into a little table near a window, the sound music and coffee-goers competing against each other. The baristas busy filling orders behind the counter— running through the motions of pulling shots of espresso, frothing milks and dishing out bags and bags filled with what look like delicious pastries. Frankie is in line waiting for the order— he insisted on paying, so you let him. From where you’re sitting you can see him among the waiting customers. Hands in his pockets, his profile on display for your viewing pleasure. He must sense your staring, glancing over at you and throws a wink your way— collecting his little gestures over the last day has you feeling a certain emotion, it’s starting to consume you in the best way.

Placing the two coffees, an oatmilk latte for you and rich black for him, on the table along with the freshly baked croissants he wanted you to try.

Frankie settles in his chair, his long legs barely have enough room to fit comfortably, his knee slightly knocking into yours. He goes to shift away as he begins to apologize, but your hand rests on his thigh as you tell him it’s okay. The contact is brief, but long enough to feel an electric shock of bliss zip through his body.

“So what are your plans for the week?” He asks, trying to break through the bustling noise of the coffee shop.

His question catches you mid bite. The buttery soft croissant nearly melts in your mouth, the flaky bits soft and moist paired with the crunchy texture of the caramelized sugar topping— a perfect balance of sweet and savory.

“Mmmm! This is so good!” Trying to wipe away the crumbs from your mouth before you answer him. “Not much really going on. Tomorrow is my usual day to get my week ready— picking up needed supplies and cleaning house are how most Monday’s are for me. Then a busy week of clients. What about you?”

He takes a drink of his coffee and you catch the way his adam’s apple shifts a bit as he swallows, the prominent features on his neck drawing you in as he begins to speak.

“Have a few flights scheduled throughout the week, that will keep me busy with prepping and air time. Then helping Benny at the gym a few nights.”

“You help him train?”

“I try. I’m usually just a human punching bag. But whatever it takes to get him a win.” He’s says so nonchalantly with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

“I’m sure he really appreciates it though. Having a friend like you supporting him inside and outside of the ring.”

“Yeah— I guess so.” Finishing off the rest of his coffee. “You’ll have to come sometime— catch one of his fights. There’s a few local ones coming up.”

“I’d like that. Thank you.”

“What are you thanking me for?”

“For inviting me into your life with out a second thought. Feeling comfortable enough to bring me into your circle of friends. I mean I already know the other guys obviously, but I appreciate you asking me to be apart of that space with them.”

“Of course.” His hand grabbing for yours, pulling you closer so he can kiss your temple— tender and soft. “Plus, the more people in Benny’s corner, the better he does.”

“Good to know. I’ll make sure to invite Hannah, she’ll lose her mind over a caged up Benny, I’m sure.”

The rest of the date is spent divulging more into each other’s lives. Sharing embarrassing moments as kids. your favorite of his being when he locked his little sister in the bathroom with wet cat food and crackers telling her it was tuna— you hadn’t laughed that hard in awhile.

Another round of coffee brought more questions and more stories from yours and Frankie’s past. He touched on his recent divorce, and you learned that it wasn’t due to one particular issue, they just grew apart early on and knew splitting was the best thing. Frankie had shared his apprehension to dating, worried he would repeat the same cycle if he was to fall in love and marry again, but he was working through it in therapy and finding that his thoughts were his worst critic sometimes— you could relate to that. You could sit and listen to him talk about anything, the way Frankie shares with so much heart and sincerity could hold your attention for an endless amount of time.

Nothing seems to exist around you as time passes. His presence envelops you in a bubble, makes you feel like you and him are the only ones in this space.

After coffee, you exchange goodbyes and a less than chaste kiss, your back against your car door as Frankie’s expansive frame cages you in as you grip on to him fearing you might just float away entirely. You both make a plan to set up seeing each other sometime during the coming week. You’re already dreading the time in between until you see him again.

*

Before you knew it, Monday rolled into Tuesday and it was back servicing clients for the week.

The day was steady, leaving ample time in between appointments for short breaks and quick text exchanges to Frankie.

Frankie: miss you. Hope you’re having a great day.

-Miss you too handsome. Hope this morning’s flight was great.

Frankie: It was. The sunrise was almost as beautiful as you are 😉

-Quite the charmer you are Morales.

Frankie: I try.

Finishing up a color service, you take your color bowls and brushes to the back room to clean and sanitize. Checking the time, you have 30 minutes before the next client arrives— a cut and blow-out.

You hear the familiar sound of the front door opening alerting the arrival of someone, knowing Hannah’s at the front desk you don’t bother to check, allowing her to greet them.

*

“Welcome in, how can I help you sir.” Hannah always does her best to welcome everyone with her cheerful voice.

“Hi, I’m Frankie. I’m here…”

“Frankie?”

“Y-yes?”

“The Frankie? The Frankie that my girl has been texting me about for the last several days?”

“If we are talking about the same person, then guilty.”

“Hi, Frankie, I’m Hannah.” She introduces herself after her barrage of questioning.

“Hannah?? So you’re the cute receptionist Benny has been going on about. Nice to finally meet you.”

“Benny talks about me?!” If she wasn’t already sitting, she would have fallen to the floor at the mention of Benny Miller thinking of her.

“He does.” Frankie chuckles at Hannah’s flustered state.

“I’ll go get our girl. Be right back.”

*

“Hey! There’s a guy up front, says he knows you.” She’s got this look about her as she says it.

You look at he, brows furrowed in confusion, you weren’t expecting anyone and you still had plenty of time until your next client.

“He’s very attractive… Goes by the name Frankie. You know him??” Her melodramatic tone is too much as she fans at her face with her hands.

“You are the worst!”

“But you love me!” Fluttering her eyelashes as she tries to play innocent.

“Sometimes against my better judgment.”

*

As you walk to the front, you can’t help but be captivated by Frankie. The light shining through the front window was the perfect radiant backdrop to his beautiful silhouette. You can feel the excitement start to come to life the moment he turns and you see that charming smile of his.

“Hey! What are you doing here?”

“I got off early and was looking for an excuse to see you.”

“What’s that you got there?” Pointing to the two coffees and what you can only assume is a bag filled with those delicious croissants.

“My excuse to see you. Thought you could use a little pick me up. Also wanted to see if you’re free Saturday evening to watch Benny’s fight.” He says holding up the coffees and pastry bag.

“You alone are the perfect pick me up. And yes, I’d love to go— it’s a date.” Grabbing one of the coffees before stealing a kiss.

“Uh, I wasn’t sure what you liked Hannah— so I just got two of the same thing.” Placing the second latte on the front desk.

Your heart swelled at the gesture. Stopping by to bring you a treat, to see you— a drive that’s out of his way. And then to bring a coffee for Hannah. What is this man doing to you??

“He’s handsome and brings coffee??” Hannah grabs the cup and begins to leave, but not before saying over her shoulder, “Marry him, now!”

Frankie and you laugh at the remark- but you’re teetering on the edge of insecurity. It was a silly thing to say considering your brief dating— if you could call it that and the thought of it didn’t sound like the worse thing either. But your previous partners were never at a point in their lives where marriage or serious relationships were ever a priority, always making you feel ridiculous and that you were the problem in every equation. But you knew it was something you wanted eventually, when the time was right. You just hoped that you weren’t forcing something on to Frankie to think about so soon.

You’re brain starts doing that thing where it’s already preparing for the worst. You just know he is going to be annoyed with what just happened and decide that this isn’t what he truly wasn’t. He’ll tell you this was only supposed to be a casual thing, it would never become anything serious. You can feel your chest clenched at the thought of him calling it off right here in the middle of the salon. Old feelings and insecurities bubbling to the surface, but you try to pull yourself together, you’ll deal with this problem later.

“Sorry about her. Uh, She can be a bit much sometimes.” You can feel your face becoming hot, picking at your fingers like you tend to do when you’re nervous.

“No— no it’s fine. I can see why Benny likes her. She’s— quirky.”

He can’t help but take in the mix of emotions dancing across your face. Sensing the nervousness stirring with in you after Hannah’s comment, and he can’t help but think it has you feeling fearful and unsure. He wants you to know he isn’t feeling flighty because of it either.

“Hey, look at me.” Pulling your attention back to him fully. “It’s okay, what she said. It doesn’t bother me.”

“Sorry, got in my head for a second. My damn self-sabotage rearing it’s head again.”

Relief washes over you. Sure it doesn’t mean anything is happening right now, but you’re glad to know that the thought of being serious moving forward isn’t something Frankie would turn down.

“Come here.” His arms become a security blanket to your uncertainty. Strong enough to withstand any threat against your own enemies. He feels safe and you like that he wants to be a part of what ever this growing connection between you becomes.

You nuzzle right into the crook of his neck, his skin warm and inviting. You want to stay wrapped up like this for as long as you can.

“Umm— if you and your boyfriend could wrap it up. I’ve got work to do and I’d rather not be front row to whatever is happening up here.” Hannah and her innate ability to make herself known.

“Hmm— Boyfriend??” Frankie says, as if he’s asking you for your opinion on the title.

“Boyfriend?”

“I kinda like the way it sounds.”

“Me too.”

Next