#the middle- i really hope I finish this one

[ferrarifinnick]

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR | KANG DAE-HO (PLAYER 388)

pairing: dom!dae-ho x reader

genre: smut (18+)

warnings: pda, voyerism, teasing, p in v, brat taming, sub/dom, handjob, dirty talk, overstimulation, car sex.

summary: a little stunt during family dinner brings out a side of dae-ho you’ve never seen before.

dae-ho was never one to turn down dinner with your parents. he had perfected the art of impressing your dad and flattering your mother, and tonight was no different. dae-ho shook your father’s hand, called him sir, and spent the whole evening attentively listening to his every word over dinner made by your mother. he nodded along, asked informed questions, and kept a perfectly straight face while you jerked him off under the dinner table.

“what were you saying about the — unngh,” he suddenly grunted as you squeezed his shaft. he quickly feigned a string of coughs, reaching for a glass of water while gesturing to his neck with a flustered wave of his hand.

your mother gasped. “oh, dear! let’s get you some more water,” she said, standing up from her seat to reach for the jug of water in the middle of the table.

“no!” dae-ho blurted out, pulling a napkin over his lap in an attempt to conceal your hand in his suit trousers. he quickly adjusted his alarm into a charming smile that convinced your mother to sink back into her seat. “thank you,” he said. “but it’s alright now. must’ve swallowed some of this delicious beef the wrong way!” he joked, chuckling heartily as your mother fawned.

“oh!” she said, flattered. “well, it’s just something i put together quickly…”

your father scoffed. “don’t listen to her, dae-ho. she’s been braising this beef all day, haven’t you honey?”

dae-ho seized another chunk of it in his chopsticks while your mother blushed. “well, that is clear in its flavour,” he said sweetly, then glanced to your father to add, “let’s hope i make it to the end of the meal, shall we?” he joked, and your father’s hearty laugh drown out the sharp breaths you pulled form dae-ho as you massaged his cock in your fist.

he shot you a warning glare while your parents were distracted in conversation.

at the end of the evening, after finishing your meal and enjoying some chatter over glasses of wine, dae-ho bid farewell to your parents by the door.

“thank you for a wonderful evening,” he said as your mother pulled him into a hug.

she kissed his cheek. “we always welcome your company, dae-ho,” she said, pinching his cheek affectionately. “such a pleasure to cook for.”

your father agreed, clasping dae-ho’s hand in a firm shake. “do come again soon.”

dae-ho’s eyes widened, and you knew by the redness flooding his cheeks that he is thinking about the sticky cum in his boxers. the situation you caused. he shot you a quick glance as the little giggle slipped from your lips, and while the dark flash of warning in his eyes went unnoticed by your parents, it’s didn’t to you.

he opened his arms. while you often savoured the security that came with the size of his muscles, it’s rare you’re intimidated by them. by the power they had over you. inching closer and pressing yourself against his chest, you’re squeezed flush against him as his arms wrapped around you.

he said your name. it dripped with tension, but it’s still intense with the affection you were so accustomed to. “it’s always lovely seeing you,” he said and leaned down to bury his face in your hair. his breath burned your skin, and you were suddenly aware of just hot quickly his heart was beating. how tense his muscles felt under yours.

you had really done it tonight. you had pushed him too far and found the side of dae-ho that rarely surfaced. the side that liked to punish you in the one way that’ll teach you never to misbehave again. frighteningly, and just a little bit thrillingly, you knew you would soon learn your lesson.

“did you enjoy your fun this evening?” he asked innocently enough, but it’s laced with so much meaning that a chill ran down your back.

you nodded cautiously. “i did,” you said, your hands hesitantly resting on his back. it suddenly felt so broad under your touch, and even as you slid them higher, all you discovered was more muscle under his shirt.

his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. you flinched into his hold, and his big arms held you steady, trapped you in his embrace. in his trap. exactly where he wanted you to be.

quiet enough for only you to hear, lips shielded from your parents in your hair, he whispered to you. “meet me in my car.”

with that, he pulled away and the warmth returned to his chipper demeanour as he waved you all farewell one last time. as your dad showed him out the door, he sent you one last look, before walking down the driveway. his car keys jingled purposefully with every step.

your reminder.

the front door closed, and your parents poured one final glass of wine before disappearing into the living room. you waited until they became engrossed in what was playing on the television, before quietly slipping out the front door, closing it with a soft click.

the headlights were already on, the passenger door popped open for you, and dae-ho wasted no time in driving out of your street. he parked up in a lonely alleyway nobody would ever use so late at night, and the second the ignition shut off, he pounced.

you had never had such a good view of the backseats as you did now with your face pressed against them, cheek raw as it brushed across the surface with every blow of dae-ho’s hips.

“is this what you wanted?” he grunted, one hand on the arch of your back, the other pushing your head down. “to get fucked like a little bitch in the back of my car?”

you cried as he delivered a thrust that reached so deep into your pussy you could swear it hit your cervix. he held you still as you struggled underneath him, his amusement coming out in a breathy scoff. you could only imagine the smug grin on his face.

“oh, is it too much, baby?” he cooed. “my dick too big for you, huh?”

the blow of his hips, the small but effective increase in his pace forcing the sob to bubble out of your throat. “yes!” you cried, and you didn’t know if you were answering him or asking for more.

“too bad,” he taunted, forcing his cock in even deeper. he slowly shifted more of his weight onto you, and the strangled groan he pulled from you only encouraged the speed of his thrusts. “you asked for this.”

he drove your body forward with each blow of his hips, and even as your body convulsed under his, he didn’t ease his pace. he fucked into you until you saw stars, and even as you clamped down and released on his cock, he didn’t stop. he rode you through your high and took you all the way to the next one, until your tears rolled down your cheeks and your arousal down your legs.

“what’s the matter, baby?” he asked from behind, drops of his sweat landing on the arch of your back. “isn’t this what you wanted?”

backseat loving with dae-ho…dreamy. please like, comment, reblog. love <33

[ethereacals]

hey gorgeous! I was thinking abt a reader who is a bit of a gym rat and her and James become friends in the gym and every day after the gym he tells rem and siri abt this girl and then one day they all meet somewhere (maybe like grocers i dont know) and the other boys fall in love and then next time they are at the gym James asks her to go on a date with all of them in hogsmeade or something cute like that and they all start going out!!!! Obviously just ignore if that sounded horrific, love you!!💞💞

ty for requesting my love, sorry for the wait.

and i decided to just make it james x reader since i haven’t done much just james, hope that’s okay (:

VOGUE

synopsis: gymrat!reader gets uninvitingly hit on my one of the guys at her gym. so it’s James to the rescue.

james potter x gn!reader

warnings: james potter and his irresistibility, unwanted sexual attention and innuendos, profanity

content: teddy bear james

YOU WERE COOLING down from your workout in the yoga and weightlifting room in your gym.

Sitting on your yoga mat, you stretched out your sore muscles.

The gym was usually a safe space for you, most of the regulars knew you and were extremely kind and supportive.

But today was different.

There were two guys in on opposite sides of the room from you, one was in his own little world with his headphones in. The other was staring at you through the mirror, and you were trying to ignore it.

Sure, he was fit.

But not what you were looking for right now.

As long as he didn’t say anythi—

“Hey, Babes.”

Of course, he just had to come over there.

“Um.. hi?” You greeted, keeping your headphones in.

“I couldn’t help but notice you from across the gym for the whole day.” He flirted, clearly he must have thought that sounded attractive because to you it was creepy.

“Oh.. thanks?”

“You know… i’m free all day after this. And— I’m done with my workout.” He smirked, leaning against the mirror with his sweaty abs all up in your face.

“That’s a nice offer.. but— i’m not done yet.” You mustered up a fake smile.

“That’s fine, you could finish up those stretches at my place. Though I can’t promise I’ll keep my hands to myself…” He winked, and you could puke.

“Again, a nice offer but I’m really not interested.” You tried, but there seemed to be no way you could get through to him.

“Oh, come on. Babe. I know you wanna come with me.” He started to gather up your stuff for you.

“Hey! don’t touch my stuff—“

“I’m just being a gentleman, what? Something naughty in here that you don’t want me to see?” He continued going through your stuff, and right before you could get up and take it from him..

“You heard them, man. Get lost.” You looked up to see the other guy that was across from you in the room.

“They’re just playing hard to get—“

“No, they’re trying to be nice but also basically telling you to go fuck yourself.” He argued, taking your stuff out of his hands and placing it back down next to you.

“Get out of here, or I’ll tell Marlene that you’re harassing someone and she’ll get your membership revoked.”

“Whatever, you weren’t really that sexy, anyways.” He shot his middle finger up at you, and shoved the glass doors open to the yoga room.

You let out a breath of relief.

“Thank y—“

“Don’t mention it, he was being a dick.” He rolled his eyes, crouching down to meet your level— but keeping a respectful distance.

“I’m James, James Potter.” He grinned, his hand out towards you.

“Y/N L/N.” You smiled, shaking his hand gently.

“Enjoy your workout, m’kay? If anyone else starts bothering you just come find me.” He stood, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“O—Okay…” You managed to get out, James literally was adorable.

He smiled brightly at you, before turning and walking back to his weights.

Maybe you would be okay getting harassed more often, BUT only if James was the one to save you.

[shehungers]

SIMULACRA

frankenstein creature x reader | 18+ | 2.6k

your father is a secretive man, and a brilliant mind always locked away downstairs in the basement. he enlists the help of thief to bring things to him, and who you eventually fall in love with. one day, the thief goes missing and you gain access to the basement to unveil the dark truth below.

story warnings; dead dove do not eat; graphic + grotesque details, body horror, sexual details, implications of: grave robbing, incestuous leanings (father to you), voyeurism, you basically kiss a corpse lmao, murder.

reposted from deleted blog: theoxenfree

please consider leaving feedback + reblogging!!

Father had hired a thief to steal many small and many large things for him over the course of a year. All things he refused to confide in anyone else about but for the thief. In exchange for the labor of the thief’s expertise, Father offered him the skeleton key for which to open every room in the house, including your own.

By the end of the first month, the thief knew the whereabouts of every item in your family home, whose footsteps sounded rhythmic, and at what time every night your father would descend to the basement when madness overtook him.

“He is a strange man. He asks me to find many strange things for him. Some of those things even I feel guilty for stealing,” said the thief, having woken you in the middle of the night to fix him a warm beverage. As part of compensation for his stay, you were told to care for him just as you would a revered guest. “He must actually be mad. There is no other explanation.”

You did as you were supposed to, fixed the thief warm milk and carried over a plate of dry biscuits to bloat his stomach. All of this, you hoped, would wear him out so you could return to bed.

“Father is a studied man. He was a doctor in town, once,” you told him, wiping crumbs off the table with the flat side of your hand. “He was one for a long time, I think. I don't actually know. He says Mother died trying to give birth to me, so he removed me from her womb himself and there was no saving her. It's always just been the two of us here, and a few servants to keep up the house.”

“It's strange to me, then, how a man of medicine and healing is so invested in the things that he is.” The thief always ate and drank steadily as though deprived of sustenance, despite all your efforts to feed him better than yourself. You continued shifting crumbs across the table, off the edge onto your apron, thinking that men of his nature really knew no manners at all.

“He used to be a surgeon,” was enough to put that part of the conversation to rest. He finished his midnight meal and handed his empty cup off to you to wash at the sink. “What do you see when you're downstairs? He always deadbolts it so I cannot get inside, even with that key he gave you.”

The thief took the lantern from the table over to you, illuminating the space in cold orange flickers and distended shadows moving erratically across the walls. You didn't look away from your task, but you could feel his nearness to you—the warmth of him and his breath almost touching the side of your neck.

“Interesting!” He smiled handsomely; a good, even a smile that didn't show too much of his mouth, too many teeth, too much eagerness. “And how long have you been trying to weasel your way into his personal space downstairs?”

“Long enough,” you assured, wiping the cup dry before giving him your full attention. “Just tell me what you've seen! The old bastard is selfish and won't tell me a thing! What's happening in my own home? I think I deserve to know.”

His hand let down the lantern, resting it on the countertop, and then stroked your face with the peaks of his knuckles. Compared to everything else he touched: rotted wood coffins splintering and softening in his grip, chiseled stone doors leading into tombs shared by generations of inbred aristocrats laid side by side forever, delicate heirlooms, porous and misshapen bones still wet with meat and decay; you were the softest, and the most pleasant thing he'd ever felt.

“Actually,” said the thief, now holding you behind the jaw and in your hair with both his hands, “I don't think you deserve to know. I mean that in the best way possible because I don't want you to know what goes on down there. I don't want you to see what I've seen. Forget it and come upstairs with me.”

The house had settled into deep silence, a sort of stillness a lot like holding a breath in anticipation. You knew it was partially your own fault for that because you weren't sure you'd taken a single breath as he led you back to your room, bolted the door, and kissed you.

Father believed you were different from the rest of the young adults in town. Thought you so much greater than them that he'd never entertained the idea you'd ever want a friend, a lover, to be touched and ravished by someone as that sort of thinking aligned with the licentious townsfolk and nobles partaking in opioid induced orgies.

“Get on your stomach.” The thief shucked your bodies bare of clothes and pressed you down into the bed how he wanted before pushing his cock into you, pacing his thrusts and depth to start before fucking you down into the mattress.

It hurt. It felt good. It was humiliating being fucked like a beast, but you loved how he lost himself in the act and bit and bruised you, moaned and grunted in your ears. He was vile in the way he confessed his lifetime of sins to you, whispering against your skin as though you were the priest, the confessional, and the God who would lead him to absolution.

He really only became himself again after he finished inside of you, cock soft, his words even softer and lavishing. Whether or not he meant what he said didn't matter, because you were in love with him.

Your life continued on that way almost every night for the better part of a year. Seeking the deepest and most sacred parts of one another—yours from the desire to know him and to be known, his to pour out his sorrows, beg forgiveness, seek vengeance through thunderclaps of stinging skin that turned your eye whites bright red and appalled your waking thoughts with vicious, awful words.

But then, one morning, Father said the thief had left early, just as the sun rose and basked the valley in golden dewdrops and velvety mist, and never planned to return.

“How can that be!” you spent most of the day afterwards wretched, filling various rooms of the house with nauseating weeps and bitter resentment. “He wouldn't just leave me! I love him! He loves me! I know him better than that.”

“Oh,” sighed Father, looking somehow haggard and anxious like a hare circled by airborne hawks. You noticed the way his eyes couldn't stay put, roamed over a space again and again as though concerned anything might change without him realizing. He was particularly fixated on the door leading down into the basement. “You stupid child. A man like that could never love you! A man like that only knows thievery! He steals things! He steals people. He'd steal you away if he had the chance. Only I know how to love you!”

“I am not a child! I haven't been a child for a long time,” you said. “You don't know anything about love. The only thing you've ever loved is your work.”

Father restrained himself in the end, looked at you equally grievous and as though he had something else to say, but felt it was a useless argument in the end. He found his wool coat by the doorway, tugged the sleeves up his arms, and said he was leaving for the nearby village to find a new thief to replace the one who had left—your beloved thief.

Hours later, he had returned home in a renewed good spirits despite no success finding someone else to take up all the same tasks the last thief had. The aged wine he drank weighed his breath, stank up the house en route to his bedroom with sour fermentation, the sweetness of grapes.

You only emerged from your quarters once his snores tore through the walls, seemed to leach into the slabs underfoot and vibrate up against your toes as you padded across them, down the stairs, and deeper down still when you discovered Father had left the basement door unbolted in his anger earlier.

To disguise this betrayal, you tried to simulate his typical circumspection by closing the door fully after you, hearing the grind of metal as you slid the latch into place to secure it from the inside, and careened further into the depths without a light, guided only by your excitement and resolve to unveil what was always hidden from you.

“What in the world?” you asked no one, just the vast space of the basement and all of the strange things within it. The air smelled thickly of coins and rust, making your tongue salivate as if taking a mouthful of soil and copper into your mouth. It was a damp sort of scent, like being entrapped by lingering humidity after a summer storm.

The further you wandered, the odder the tabletops of implements you saw. Clear glass vessels of all sorts: flasks, beakers, tubes with dried substances inside. Piles of medical texts, some of infections and pathology; most specific to anatomy and physiology. You fluttered through the pages of one tome which seemed to exclusively discuss the organic components that made up different layers of skin and fat.

Onward still, deeper inside the basement, there were sealed vats emanating particularly repugnant odors. Some so strong you couldn't bring yourself closer than twenty feet of them without the need to turn, vomit into a crevice in the ground, and widen the distance more.

Last were the tables, some built solidly out of teakwood, others shabby metal—all of them mysteriously dark and stained—

Just then came a jutting sound, sharp and metallic, feet away from where you stood on another table you'd yet to reach. For some reason, you hadn't noticed this one right away despite there being quite a sizable mass sprawled across it, restrained.

It was human-shaped, broad-shouldered and sinewy. Even from where you stood, you believed you could see the striations arms as it struggled against thick cuffs at the wrists. You thought it looked simultaneously enormous, yet entirely malnourished, off in proportions with a complexion gray as any ash left behind after a bonfire.

“Are…” you spoke, it lurched against its restraints and made you jump. “Are you—are you alright? Who are you?!”

Suddenly, the creature’s limbs went soft, relenting to the sound of your voice as if in recognition and instead of trying to break its shackles, it tried reaching out towards you. For a moment, you considered humoring the poor thing, alleviating it of whatever loneliness it has experienced while down in this bleak, vile location.

You got close enough to finally see upon every minutiae detail, and the horrible thing was that everything deserved thorough inspection.

“What in God's name are you?!” you whimpered and scoffed in disgust, seeing the patchwork of its body with sheets of many different skins, all some variance of color, though all entirely gray and dead. His appendages were adhered at each joint with staples, sewn with the thickest black cord you'd ever seen and coated with blood and pieces of human meat.

No part of this creature looked to be made of any single human—any one man—but an amalgam of tautly stretched, cleverly tucked pieces of many. Even his genitalia were a construction of several parts.

The creature stayed calm in your presence, repeatedly raising, lowering his head onto the hard metal to better see you. The innermost of his lips were blackened purple and he parted them with enormous effort, eventually giving you a view of his pristinely aligned teeth and tongueless mouth.

“You can't speak—oh my god. You can't speak. Where's your tongue? What are you? What are you?” but, the answer was that he was many different men. The better question was whose brain was seeing you through mismatched brown and blue eyes?

The longer he stared at you and you stared at him, witnessed his hideously lovely face cycle through a pattern of confusion to familiarity—a demented soul constantly finding miniscule pockets in coherency—the horror struck you more than the gladness and overflow of love making your hands shake.

“My—my beloved!” you said huskily, shy of bursting into tears and collapsing on top of him. Your trembling fingers felt his glacial skin, how utterly dead and stiff it was, but you didn't care. “My father did this to you?! He took your brain? He put you into this monstrosity?! But, why?”

The creature’s mouth couldn't answer, but the thief’s brain, in those brief flickers of remembrance, wanted to reveal that your father was a pervert—had witnessed him bed you for months on end before something snapped, something inside him changed and he could no longer bear the idea you loved another more than him.

That you might run away. Leave.

The thief had been cleaved alive, different parts of him not yet used stored in the vats scattered throughout the basement. His brain was brilliant, it was why he was such a remarkable thief, made him the ideal candidate to finally bring a sentient homunculus to fruition.

It worked. Your father had created something neither dead, nor alive, nor entirely human, nor thoughtless beast.

“Oh, my love,” you kissed his cold, unmoving lips and then searched your pockets for the skeleton key you'd kept hidden from your father. “Forgive him. Forgive that terrible man for what he's done. I fear he's been unwell for a long time now. A very long time. He is not right.”

But, the thief’s brain was not so kind, nor was any other part he was made up of. He only existed in agony and hatred and faint fondness when he saw your face.

Against all odds, the skeleton key fit and soon he was free of the restraints. They struck the metal tabletop heavily and with a stinging clatter, resonating through your mind in an echo that shook you with dread and despair—the foreboding of some grave consequence soon to come that you did not yet understand.

He sat astride the table for a moment, doing little besides testing his range of move, the entire width that he could spread his arms, flexed his fingers and toes, felt all the different regions of himself and all the different men he now was. And, once he was ready to get off the table, his gait listed right a little bit onto his weaker leg.

“Please, my love, let's just leave,” you told him, curling yourself around one of his arms as he lumbered towards the staircase leading back up. “Let that man be! Let him rot all his own without us here! We can still be together, and I still love you.”

Perhaps, in what remained of his psyche, he loved you too, but could no longer understand what a dream was nor the true complexities of longing.

What he could understand was that you'd never stop trying to thwart him, so once on the second floor where the bedrooms were swallowed in black static silence, he shoved you into yours and jammed the door so you couldn't get out.

At first, your father didn't drunkenly stir awake to the sound of your voice calling out hysterically from your room, fists pounding against the wall directly above his bed. It was only when the creature had grabbed him around his head with massive hands, squeezing him like a tightening belt, thumb pads pressing into his eyes that he was truly awake.

The agonized screams of your father were only dampened by your screams of terror from the other side of the wall.

[n0tamused]

heard u were desperate for elf asks and me, the local elf fucker, has decided to grace your life pookie😚

elves who have still yet to start their courting with their human s/o, finding pieces of themselves in their work room or finding their human passed out over a table. huffing about human fragility under their breaths, walking over to drag them back to their bed for a proper rest, freezes before their ears turn a cute pink because their sweet mortal was musing about them. whether it be poetry draft, painting, art, sculpture in process, embroidery — anything. and elves adore art, so this is like skipping straight to “will you marry me?” before starting their dating

A/n: thank you for stopping by once again Nobu! Please stop more often hdhfhhs <3 I do hope you like this pookie. I planned to put even more characters into this, but that would have been too much for one post, so I'll separate it into another post tehee

Content: Thranduil, Glorfindel, Maedhros x GN!Reader, fluff hcs, a tinge of angst in Maedhros' part (ofc)..

𓄃Thranduil

-The vast forests of Mirkwood held much beauty, and even more when one looked closer into them. The trees were one of a kind, holding memories of old and having seen rises and falls of  both elf and man. Yet they all remained steadfast, roots holding them upright. In the same manner, Thranduil held himself

-It was an image not many could ever hope to replicate, and a trait many aspired to have, like big fancy shoes one hopes to grow into

-And perhaps you have spent too long in the Woodland realm, you’ve learned a lot, but a lot more was waiting to be learned as well. It came to a boiling point where you were growing fussy with yourself for not having a pipe through which to blow your steam out through. There was so much beauty and lore, yet you couldn’t find a way to capture it all. And seeing all of this, your tense display, Thradnuil had gifted you paints and canvases and brushes, and a whole new room so well illuminated that you could even paint in it during the night, given you had a good candle with you. 

-It came as a relief, having your own space, yet you felt indebted to him as much as you felt flattered that the elven-king cared so much about your comfort. When he had approached you with the request to court you, he almost seemed aloof, despite his request holding many thoughtful words and his gifts showing even more care. But that could be just the little voice of the devil that came with courting one of the most important figures in Middle-Earth. You didn’t express this much to Thranduil, for he really did his best at meeting you halfway with the courting traditions of men and elves.

-In turn you decided to paint him. Or, at least, try to do so. It would be worth it. So you set out on this quest and holed yourself in the painting room, having selected a medium sized canvas and the best colors you could ever hope to pair up with one another. The initial layout looked good, with Tranduil standing in the woods, surrounded by greens, oranges and reds, wearing an outfit he recently wore when he took you out on a walk through the forest. There is also a large elk approaching him in the painting, but you saved the animal to be painted last. You had covered most of the canvas, nearly finished with the backdrop of multiple tree trunks and you were working your way to the foreground when your vision began to droop and blur.

-Raising your head you saw that it was well past sunset and you could no longer see the color on your canvas as well, your candle was flickering out.

-But your chambers seemed a world away, you could not bother to try your legs to walk the distance. And the next best thing was the bench in the room, usually reserved for any guests you may have hosted, but tonight it would be your bed. You moved the plush pillows and the blanket around until you were comfortable, and you finally shut your eyes for the last time that night.

-Thranduil had wandered in some time later, finding it rather odd that he hadn't seen you for the entire day, and the guards he asked about your whereabouts had little answers as well. But his instincts told him you’d be here.

-He went in with his lamp, alone venturing into your space and  seeing the canvas first. For half a heartbeat he half-expected to find you behind it, painting in the dark - humans had weird ways of doing things, he realized

-But once he went around it, he only saw an empty chair and unwashed brushes, crusted with paint. And the unfinished painting..

-His breath stopped in his throat, his brows furrowing as he leaned in closer, shining the light of the lamp onto the canvas. He thought his mind was playing tricks on him, surely it wasn’t his likeness he was seeing in the sketch lying underneath the drying paint? But the worse option was to believe that it was another elf wearing his attire

-A soft hum snapped his focus away, and he turned to see you shifting in your sleep. It was then when he felt his ears begin to burn, his lips pushing into a thin line as he attempted to ease his heart from beating so terribly fast, too hard, he felt it beating against the bones of his ribcage

-He coughed into the palm of his hand then took a deep breath, approaching you after what felt like an eternity of waiting. It was in your shared interest that you sleep somewhere comfortable.. 

-Despite his racing thoughts, he did make it a point to talk to you in the morning about your courtship, perhaps this was your way to signal him that you were ready for the next stage..? 

☀︎Glorfindel

-There are not many things that can catch Glorfindel by surprise; he is a seasoned individual, both in the art of combat and in more mundane things. He has seen much, and more. His mind is not so closed off to the change in the world, and while he is used to planning things, strategizing, his mind does prefer to take life one day at a time. Let life be the present moment until tomorrow arrives.

-You came into his life rather unexpectedly, but he welcomed you all the same. What feelings began to brew he had hoped to keep secret for a while longer, but once he realized that things were not going to change and that his feelings were only growing, taking into account your mortality, he had approached you and asked to court you

-He delivered the speech elegantly, armed with his usual carefree and easy going demeanor, but once his breath fell short towards the end you could tell that this meant a lot to him. And stepping into this more intimate relationship with him felt much easier than expected, but now you just had much more affection from him, and you had the privilege of seeing him more as well

-It was only natural that your own nature led to you wanting, even needing, to preserve him in some form of a craft. To flatter him the same way he did you, or to simply have something to remind you of him when he wasn’t with you

-Poems you tried, but no word seemed sufficient enough to capture Glorfindel’s character. Art you tried too, but you proved not skilled enough to satisfy yourself with those results. So you turned to something else - embroidery. It wasn’t easy, but the process was more satisfying and the image that was slowly coming into reality made you much more happier than the other attempts at making something in the image of Glorfindel

-It was a bit of a challenge to discard the failed attempts from him, but embroidery was easier to deal with before the bigger image was beginning to materialize. ‘It’s only a little something I’m making…for decor!’ or ‘I wish to give my mother something as a gift’ and so on. Glorfindel did not distrust you on that. It made sense, and why would you hide anything from him, anyway?

-Perhaps you overestimated yourself with your human strength, staying night after night doing work or finishing the embroidery or being unable to sleep. But exhaustion finally caught up to you one evening as you were sitting by the hearth. The warmth of the fire was licking up your arms and the side of your face, tempting you to close your eyes, lulling you to sleep. And before you knew it, your heavy eyelids giving way to darkness to overtake you

-Glorfindel found you in your chair, chin on your chest and arms stretched down to your lap, fingers still touching the wooden hoop keeping the canvas in place. The needle was slipping from your fingers, hanging on by a thread. 

-Glorfindel shook his head and approached slowly, being light on his feet as he took the needle from your limb fingers. The thread pulled at the canvas as he picked it up, and it was then when he saw the picture you were making. His brows furrowed in focus and he felt more alert than a moment prior. He pried the wooden embroidery hoop from your hand and picked it up to take a closer look. Now that he thought of it, he hasn’t seen the progress made on this in a long while. 

-It was a field of golden flowers, carefully crafted with yellow thread and in the middle was a finished white horse, and a person - well most of them. They were unfinished and only the shoulders-down of the body was visible, but Glorfindel recognized the clothes as his own, and he could recognize Asfaloth in any format.

-He wasn’t caught by surprise often, he held and open and calm mind, but even if he had expected this, even if he did hope for this, it made his heart feel like bursting 

-He had to hold himself back from bowing down beside you, taking your sleepy face in his hands only to wake you up with a dozen of kisses

-Glorfindel really did his best to not cause a scene in that moment, and after a moment of simply admiring the artwork and tracing the pads of his fingers over the thread on canvas, his smile only growing, he had to remind himself that you were still asleep in a chair. And your back wouldn’t be thanking you in the morning for that

-After setting aside your embroidery, he gently picked you up and carried you to bed, smiling all the way and feeling how his chest swam with joy and a feeling he could only describe as a well-stuffed feather bed

-He laid you down, bringing the covers over you and for a moment longer he just admired you, having so much to tell you, but he settled with a kiss to your cheek for now, making a note to himself to make a better gift for you, and to ask for your hand soon.

⚔︎Maedhros

-There was little place for a human in Maedhros’ life, even as wars came and went and brought before him countless faces only for him to see them fall before him in the days following. He has seen much, too much, but there was only one path in his life, and it lay ahead of him.  Yet, even his path wasn’t made wholly of only the things he knew. There were things changing, with him and around him

-It was strange to have someone with him. Ever since you came into his life Maedhros had slowly begun to adjust the ways when it came to interacting with you, and what  chats you two had always managed to take his mind off of the constant battles and the Oath. It took a longer time for him to realize it and come to terms with his feelings, but once he did he plucked up whatever strength and elegance he could summon. He remembered the person he was before coming here, before everything, and he did his best to emulate that stability and a bit more cheerful demeanor. How much that works.. well you can imagine. But that does not mean he was bad at it, just not as good as enthusiastic as he imagined he’d be </3 He does think about it later and does wonder if you would have preferred if he asked in some other fashion

-Maedhros visits you when he can, although the truly private times between the two of you are far and few between with such a big host of people following him and waiting on his orders. He does treasure any moment he has with you. He hold your hand and kisses the inside of your wrists before he has to depart, kisses your forehead when he comes to see you and sits right besides you for as long as he is with you

-His heart had grown much more fond of you, it feels alive and the scars he bears nearly feel non-existent when he’s around you

-And little by little, you manage to get the old Maedhros from underneath the rubble. He had  taken habit to calling you ‘his light’ in elvish, among some other endearments

-It was a late night when he came to visit you, and he did expect he might not find you awake at the hour but he tried his luck regardless as he went into your chambers. Despite your earlier claims that ‘he doesn’t need to knock’ he knocked anyway, only opening the door when he got no response.

-And there you were. Sitting at your little table (although everything average to us is little to Maedhros-) with your head on your arms. A quil rested between your fingers, and a blotch of ink was left both on paper and the wooden surface. As much as it was endearing at first, Maedhros couldn’t help but worry. He hurried in, carefully closing the doors and peering at your face before he agreed with that little voice in his head - you were fine, just asleep.

-His large palm tenderly caressed your upper back, coaxing your sleepy self to move just enough until the point he could pick you up without jostling you around too much. Your bed was just beside the table, so after he had settled you in, he smiled at the  thought of your stubbornness to leave your work corner. He knew you could be stubborn beyond measure, especially about things that you held dear to heart

-Not wanting to depart yet, he went back to your table to see what he could do with the spilled ink and scattered papers

-He found a towel nearby and used it to suck up the wet ink - the dry splotches were beyond his skill. It was quiet work, but he found his mind wandering, one might even call it relaxing. 

-He was picking up papers absentmindedly, not wishing to overstep your own trust by peering into whatever it is you scribbled down

-And he held onto that thought until he glimpsed something he couldn’t ignore. Since when did you know elvish?

-It suddenly came into view, the papers he held in hand were all letters in elvish, although each stroke revealed you were a novice in the language, but he also saw effort and thoughtfulness. The first page began with ‘Dear Maedhros’ and then the rest continued on into a poem. Maedhros thought he was dreaming, and had to glimpse outside the window to remind himself where he was 

-He read through and found himself falling apart from within. Each line, each word, addressed to him held so much love and care, it meant more than any song some bard could sing of his valor in battle. And it was written by you - and you’ve seen how ugly he could be, yet you wrote how you loved him all.

-He was probably as red as his hair, but his lips also twisted downwards in this pout-like expression keeping tears at bay. His heart felt full, too full for him to manage. Maedhros doesn’t remember the last time he felt like this. And with his curiosity sparked, he peered into the crumbled letters scattered around, finding even more verses that were unfinished. On the corner of the table was a thick book, almost crumbling to ashes from how old it looked, but he recognized it as the first book holding the alphabet of men and elves, translations and grammatical rules to follow

-Maedhros sat down, not trusting his legs to keep him upright anymore, holding the letters to his chest.

Ⓒ n0tamused/jarttavia_. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

Sweet on You, Chapter 6

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Story Summary: HERE

Warnings/Tags: Sugar Daddy!Matt Murdock, Idiots to Lovers, No Age Gap, Alternating PoV, No Use of Y/N

Word Count: ~3700

A/N: Guess who's back, back again? Matty's back, tell a friend...

After months of fucking off to who-knows-where, Matt finally sauntered back into the writing room in my head with a smirk on his face and the DDBA trailer in tow, so expect updates to all of my Matt fics to start back up!

As always, many thanks to @realfernmayo for the divider!!!

Tag List: @danzer8705 @capylore @shouldbestudying41 @atemydadforbreakfast @peachy-flxwr @sleepysleepymom @fishinsuits @milkbummm @lazyxsquirrel @beezusvreeland @caughtthefever @bohemianrhapsody86 @yarrystyleeza @indestructeible @pepperthebi-spy @kezibear

“I need you to stay late,” Mr. DiStefano said the following evening as you prepared to leave the office.

You paused in the middle of unlocking your desk drawer to retrieve your purse. “Wait, what? Why?”

“Harrison just called, he wants to completely redo the condos we're designing for him so he's coming in for an emergency meeting. I need you here to take notes.”

You frowned. Harrison Coco was the head of the Coco Corporation, one of the largest and most prestigious development companies in New York. “He’s coming in tonight ?”

Mr. DiStefano shook his head. “I don't like it either, but he's our biggest client. I don't want to run the risk of losing his account.”

“Can't it at least wait until tomorrow? I had plans this evening.”

“Oh, well, if whatever it is you had planned is more important than your job , then…” Mr. DiStefano trailed off, his meaning evident.

You sighed. You had been looking forward to a quiet dinner with Matt after an already hectic day. “No, sir. It's fine, I can see if I can reschedule for another day.”

“Good. Make a pot of coffee, would you? We're going to need it.”

You pulled out your phone as Mr. DiStefano walked back to his office, sighing once again as you texted Matt. I'm really sorry, but I can't make it to dinner tonight.

Your phone immediately chimed with a response. Everything okay?

Yeah, an important client is coming in so my boss is making me work late. 

Ah. I see. 

“He probably doesn't believe me,” you muttered to yourself. Would you mind taking a raincheck for this weekend? Or I can even do an extra dinner next week if that's preferable.

You chewed on your lip in anticipation, hoping that Matt didn't consider you already in breach of your contract and tell you to just forget about the whole thing.

Would tomorrow work for you? 6 PM at the restaurant instead of 7?

You huffed out a relieved breath. Yes, that should work. Again, I'm so sorry, my boss literally just sprang this on me.

That's quite alright, I have some things I needed to finish up tonight at the office anyway. I'll see you tomorrow.

See you tomorrow.

You put your phone away and headed to the kitchen to brew the requested pot of coffee. Design meetings typically ran for several hours as it was, but meetings with Harrison were always even longer and more detailed.  Might as well make extra since I'll probably be here until midnight. 

You measured out the coffee grounds then added water to the reservoir, wondering if you'd have the time and energy to at least scarf down the leftover baked chicken you had made the previous evening before needing to get ready for bed or if you should order something to eat at the office for dinner.

You pressed the start button on the coffee machine, deciding to err on the side of caution and order in something.

You headed back to Mr. DiStefano’s office. “I'm going to grab something for dinner, do you want anything?”

Mr. DiStefano nodded. “Yeah, actually. What were you getting?”

“I was thinking maybe that ramen bar down the street.” It was relatively inexpensive and close enough to the office to where you could just run and pick it up rather than having to wait on delivery.

Mr. DiStefano nodded. “That sounds good. Give me a minute and I'll let you know what I want.”

“Okay.”

You went back to the kitchen to pour the coffee you had made into a carafe to keep warm, then brought the carafe into the meeting room and set it on a table against the wall along with some cups, a caddy full of various sweeteners and creamers, and several bottles of water. Okay, I think that's everything.

You walked back into Mr. DiStefano's office. “Decide what you want, sir?”

Mr. DiStefano nodded. “Yeah, get me the black tonkotsu with a side of takoyaki.”

You pulled your phone out to place your orders. “Okay, not a problem.”

Mr. DiStefano pulled his wallet out of his pocket and took out some cash. “Here, this should cover mine.”

You took the money and stuck it in your pocket. “I’ll let you know when I leave to go pick it up. What time will Mr. Coco be arriving?”

“Around 6:30 or so. He just got back into town from a business trip and will be on his way shortly.”

You nodded. At least that would give you enough time to eat. “I’ve got coffee and water set up in the meeting room. Do you need anything else?”

Mr. DiStefano shook his head. “No, I think that’s it for now.”

You went back to your desk and responded to a few emails from clients that you had originally left to answer the next morning, then stopped by Mr. DiStefano's office once again in order to let him know that you were leaving to go pick up dinner. 

At least Abbott and Williams have already left for the day so I don't have to worry about having to deal with them too , you thought as you locked the office door behind you. 

You walked the three blocks to the restaurant and picked up your order, then headed back.

“Mr. DiStefano, I'm back,” you announced as you unlocked the door and stepped back inside. “They had initially forgotten your okonomiyaki sauce, but I made sure to get them to put extra in the bag for you.”

“Okay, thanks,” Mr. DiStefano said as he came into the lobby. “Before Harrison gets here I need you to pull the current renderings for the condos as well as the designs for the Baker, Hawkins, and Guiducci accounts. Hopefully we can convince him to stick with the original design or at the very least go with something similar to what we've done before.” 

There goes my time to actually sit and enjoy my dinner , you thought . It was already 6:00 and it would take you at least 15 minutes to find and pull the requested designs. “Yes, sir.”

You handed him his order and put your own on your desk before going to pull the designs. While most architectural firms were utilizing digital-only designs, DiStefano and Associates still used mostly hand-drawn renderings depending on the needs of the client. “Digital renderings may be faster,” Mr. DiStefano had once put it when you had asked him about it, “but a computer can't give you the warmth and depth of a space that hand-drawn designs can.”

Apparently the architecture world agreed, because DiStefano and Associates had been named one of Architecture Today ’s top firms for the past 5 years straight.

You found the requested plans and brought them to the meeting room then returned to your desk to hurriedly eat your (now cold) dinner.

You had just finished when you heard a tap on the front door. Perfect timing.

You hurriedly threw your take-out container in the trashcan next to your desk and walked over to unlock the door. “Mr. Coco, it's good to see you,” you said with false-but-professional pleasantness as you opened it.

You honestly didn't have anything against him personally -- he was a tall, medium-built, good-looking man around your age with dark hair and piercing blue eyes -- but you couldn't help but be annoyed that he had (unknowingly) caused you to have to cancel your dinner plans for the evening.

“Same to you,” he replied. “And I've asked you before, please call me Harrison. Mr. Coco is my father.”

You stepped out of the doorway to let him inside. “Come on in.”

You locked the door behind him and led him to the meeting room. “I'll let Mr. DiStefano know that you're here.”

Harrison nodded. “Thanks.”

You walked back to Mr. DiStefano's office. “Mr. Coco is waiting for you in the meeting room, sir.”

Mr. DiStefano nodded. “Okay, thanks. I'll be right there.”

You passed by your desk to grab your notebook and returned to the meeting room. “Mr. DiStefano will be with you in a moment. In the meantime, there's fresh coffee and bottled water if you'd like anything to drink, or I can bring you a cup of tea if you'd prefer.”

Harrison looked over at the coffee station, then back at you. “Actually, a cup of tea would be nice.” 

You nodded. “We have English Breakfast, green tea, Chai, Earl Grey, honey-chamomile, and herbal peppermint. Which would you prefer?”

Harrison thought for a moment. “Let's do the Chai.”

“Okay, I'll be right back with that.”

You went to the kitchen and brewed a cup of hot water then placed a tea bag in it before returning once again to the meeting room. “Here you are.”

Harrison nodded as you handed him the cup. “Appreciate it. So, how have you been?”

“Fine, thanks.” Harrison was one of the few clients who always took the time to actually speak to you and made you feel seen and not like furniture. “How about you? Mr. DiStefano said you just got back from a trip?”

Harrison nodded. “Actually, yeah, which is why I --”

“Harrison, hello!” Mr. DiStefano's voice boomed as he walked into the meeting room. “It's good to see you.”

Harrison turned to shake Mr. DiStefano's hand. “John, thanks for meeting with me so quickly.”

Mr. DiStefano shook his head. “Not a problem. Please, have a seat.”

You sat in your usual chair in the corner of the room as the two men sat at the table.

“So tell me,” Mr. DiStefano said. “What's the issue with the condo design? I thought you said you loved it.”

Harrison sighed. “I did, I did, it's just that upon looking at it again I realized it looks like every other condo building in New York. I want something different, something that makes Coco Corp stand out. I need something… inviting .”

You wrote down different and inviting as Mr. DiStefano nodded. “Okay, I can absolutely see that. I've pulled a few comps for you to check out.”

You refrained from rolling your eyes. You knew you were just Mr. DiStefano's office assistant, but the least he could do was to say he’d had his assistant pull the blueprints rather than act like he had actually taken the time to do it himself.

Mr. DiStefano reached over and unrolled the first rendering. “Here's one we did for the Taylor Group --”

Harrison shook his head. “No, you don't understand me, John. It's gotta be a completely original design, unlike anything else in New York. I want people to look at it and see something unique, not just another high-rise taking up space where there used to be a park. And I want it to be as environmentally friendly as possible.”

Environmentally friendly, you added to your notes.

Mr. DiStefano sat back and scratched at his chin. “Well, going back to the drawing board and starting over completely from scratch is going to cost you, Harrison. I mean I've already put a lot of time and effort into the original design…”

“I don't care how much it costs. I'll pay you triple your usual hourly rate, I just need a completely new, unique design by Monday morning. I have to get the new plans over to City Hall for approval before I leave for Taiwan Monday afternoon.”

Mr. DiStefano nodded. “It'll require me to work through the weekend, but considering it's an emergency and it's for you, I'll do it.”

Harrison grinned. “Great. Let's get started then.”

You sighed to yourself. You'd been hoping that Harrison would like one of the other designs with just a few tweaks being made to make it part of his signature style, but to completely start the design process over?

It was going to be a long night.

“Walk me through step-by-step what happened when you arrived on scene,” Matt's voice said on the recording of his interview with Officer Stanton from earlier that day.

Officer Stanton had sighed. “The housekeeper answered the door and let us in, then led us to Senator and Mrs. Thompson’s bodies.”

“She was the one who discovered the victims, right?” Matt had listened to her original deposition that morning and already knew that she had arrived at the Thompson residence around 8 AM to start her workday only to discover Senator and Mrs. Thompson dead in the foyer, but he'd wanted to confirm it with Officer Stanton.

“Yeah.”

“Was anyone else at the residence?”

“No, but Mrs. Thompson’s sister arrived shortly thereafter.”

“Ah, yes, Ms…” Matt had paused to check his notes. “Stafford.”

“Yeah, that's right.”

“The Thompson’s deaths hadn't yet been made public and no next of kin had been contacted at the time, correct?”

“Right.”

 “So her reason for being there?”

“She said she had made plans with Mrs. Thompson to go shopping and to have lunch.”

“And she was the one who first mentioned that my client had argued with Mrs. Thompson the previous day?”

Officer Stanton had shifted in his seat. “Yeah.”

“Yet you testified in court that it was Ms. Davies who initially mentioned the argument.”

There was a rustle of clothing as Officer Stanton had shrugged. “I got mixed up. Ms. Stafford mentioned it to us then Ms. Davies confirmed it during questioning.”

“How did Ms. Davies know about the argument?”

“She overheard Mrs. Thompson telling Ms. Stafford about it during tea at the Thompson residence.”

“Did either one know what the argument was about?”

“No.”

“Had anyone else other than my client ever been considered a suspect?”

“I don't know, you'd have to ask Detective Fraser. He was the lead on the case, I was just the first officer on the scene.”

“I will. That's all the questions I have for you, thank you for your time.”

Matt turned off the recording and took out his earbuds. He needed to talk to Detective Fraser, but he was pretty sure the police had never looked beyond Conrad -- who was clearly innocent -- for suspects. 

He sighed. There wasn't anything else he could do on Conrad's case that night and he had already wrapped up his other tasks earlier in the day in anticipation of his scheduled dinner with you.

Matt had admittedly been disappointed when you had texted him to cancel and initially thought that maybe you had changed your mind about your arrangement, but had believed your explanation of having to work late, especially after you had offered to make it up to him.

He checked the time as his stomach rumbled. 11:34 PM. Shit, I should call it a night. Probably should eat something, too, since I skipped lunch.

There was a deli nearby that was open until midnight, so he gathered his belongings and headed out of the office, locking the door behind him.

He unfolded his cane and headed down the sidewalk, the smell of freshly-baked bread and sliced meat becoming stronger and more enticing the further he got down the street.

His brow furrowed as he picked up the sound of your voice. Your office was about a half a block from the deli and you had said that you'd had to work late, but Matt definitely hadn't expected you to be working this late.

“Goodnight, Mr. DiStefano,” you were saying. “See you in the morning.”

Matt frowned. He presumed that you would be walking home since cabs were scarce at this hour, but even with his efforts as Daredevil the streets weren't 100% safe. I should make sure she gets home okay.

He bypassed the deli and kept walking, reaching your office right as you were finishing locking up behind you.

You double-checked that the door was locked tight then turned towards him. “Matt?”

Matt said your name in what he hoped was a believably surprised tone. “Hi. Wow, are you just now getting off of work?”

“Yeah, design meetings always take forever, especially meetings with this particular client.” You paused. “What about you? Are you just now getting off too?”

Matt nodded. “Yeah, I lost track of time working on this one particular case and totally skipped dinner, so I just left the office and was heading to Raoul’s to grab a sandwich to eat at home.”

“Oh, um, you passed it. It's about half a block back the way you came.”

Matt made a fake grimace. “Oh shit, did I? Damn, it's late and I'm tired, I must've miscounted the steps.”

“Want me to escort you there?”

“You don't mind?”

“Of course not.” You moved to stand next to him and offered him your arm. “Come on, it's right down here.”

Matt took your arm and allowed you to guide him back down the street to Raoul's. “Thanks, by the way.”

“No problem.” You slowed to a stop as the two of you reached the deli. “Here it is.”

Matt nodded. “Thanks again.”

You huffed out a light laugh. “Part of the service, remember?”

Matt grinned. “Right, right.”

“I'll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Matt bit his lip. “...Unless you don't mind waiting a few minutes for me to get my sandwich then letting me walk you home?”

He could feel you relax as you shook your head. “No, I don't mind. I'd actually really appreciate it.”

“Okay, great.”

The two of you headed inside and walked up to the counter. 

“Welcome to Raoul's, what can I get you folks?” the clerk said.

“Ah, yeah, can I get turkey and ham on a sub, hold the mustard?” Matt turned towards you. “Would you like anything?”

“Oh, no thank you,” you replied. “I had dinner at the office earlier.”

You were telling the truth, so Matt just nodded. “Okay. That'll be all, thanks.”

He paid for his sandwich then the two of you moved to the other end of the counter to wait for it.

“So do you work late often?” Matt asked.

“No, not really,” you answered. “And even when I do it's usually never this late. We just had a very important client insist on meeting tonight about an emergency redesign on a project my boss is doing for him and I had to be there to take notes.”

You paused briefly before continuing. “I shouldn't need to cancel dinner so last-minute again.”

Matt shook his head. “Honestly, it's fine. I might have to do the same on occasion.”

“Also, thank you for agreeing to reschedule. I was afraid you'd tell me to just forget the whole deal.”

Matt's brow furrowed. “Why would I do that?”

He heard the ruffle of your coat as you shrugged. “I dunno,” you hedged. “I thought that maybe you wouldn't believe that I was working late and that I was actually seeing another S&S client or something.”

The thought had never crossed Matt's mind, but now that you mentioned it... “ Do you have other clients?”

“No, you're my only one right now. But what about you? I know you said you're single, but you could still have a friend with benefits… with actual benefits.”

Matt shook his head. “No, there's no one in my life in that capacity right now either.”

He chewed on his lip as he thought for a moment. “How about for both our peace of mind we add an addendum to our contract? Something along the lines of ‘Neither party shall seek out or participate in other companionship or romantic entanglements while joined under the terms of this contract’.”

You let out a breath. “Agreed. I mean, since we're going to be letting people believe that we're legitimately dating it makes sense for both of us to be otherwise unattached.”

Matt nodded. “I'll write it up and we can sign it tomorrow before dinner. And now that I'm thinking about it, I probably should increase your monthly stipend since I'm preventing you from taking on other clients.”

You hesitated briefly before answering. “I appreciate that, but it's not necessary. You're already paying me more than enough as it is.”

“Are you sure? Because I don't mind increasing it.”

“I'm sure. But thanks for the offer.”

“Okay then.”

“Do you still want to meet at the restaurant? Or would you rather meet at your office to sign the addendum?”

“Restaurant is fine. It's just one extra clause so it's only one page.”

“Okay, that sounds good then.”

Your conversation halted as Matt's order was called. “You folks have a good night,” the deli clerk said as he handed Matt a plastic bag containing his sandwich. 

“Thanks, you too,” Matt replied.

“You as well,” you added before the two of you headed outside.

Matt unfolded his cane and took your elbow. “Alright, which way are we heading?”

You turned back towards your office. “This way.”

The two of you walked silently, each lost in your own thoughts.

“By the way --” Matt began.

“Hey, thank you again --” you started to say at the same time.

Matt chuckled. “You go first.”

You took a breath. “I was just gonna say thank you again for walking me home. I really do appreciate it.”

Matt nodded. “It's not a problem.”

“So what were you going to say?”

“Oh, just that Foggy and Karen want to meet you.”

“Oh, okay. That's not a problem, just let me know when and where.”

“I told them maybe in a couple of weeks once we see how things go.” Matt grinned. “I want us to be comfortable with each other before I subject you to the rest of Nelson, Murdock and Page for cross-examination.”

You huffed out a light laugh. “I'll be sure to prepare, counselor.”

Matt felt you slow down as you reached your apartment building. “Well, this is me. Thanks again for walking me home.”

Matt smiled and gave you a slight nod. “Usually I'm embarrassed when I accidentally pass up places I'm trying to get to, but tonight it worked out. I'm glad I ran into you.”

“Me too. Do you need directions back to your place?”

Matt shook his head. “Nah. I can use the GPS on my phone.”

“Okay.” You gave his arm a light squeeze. “I'll see you tomorrow evening then?”

Matt nodded. “See you tomorrow evening.”

He waited as you went inside your building then turned and headed towards home, his mind going back and forth from Conrad's case to Matt's contract with you. There was something he was definitely missing in order to definitively prove Conrad's innocence, but he couldn't quite figure out what.

He shook his head. He needed to eat, shower, and sleep. He'd work on proving Conrad's innocence and writing up the addendum to his and your contract tomorrow.

[ihaznoclue]

Shadow fluff please I can’t do any more angst things today!!! I love your work🫶🏻you can ignore this

Hehe I know that feeling but fear not I have Fluff for you!

Pairings -> Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader

Warnings -> None

Note -> Reader cooking a nice meal and Shadow wants to taste test it

Genre -> Fluff

Shadow the Hedgehog

It was a chill evening, it was time for some dinner but you wanted to try something different this time

During the day you were searching up some meals that you could cook for tonight since you didn't really have a single clue on what to make

But finally you found a dish that looked really good to make and you hoped that Shadow was going to like it

You and Shadow have been living together, well it first started with you but then Shadow came around and you decided to take him in

Right now, you were in the kitchen getting everything you need to make this wonderful dish you found off the internet

Shadow was simply in your room, reading a book if you remembered. This dish was like a soup type, meaning that you had to get the taste just right

You were in the middle of the soup cooking, slightly boiling on low medium heat with the pan lid on to keep the heat trapped, you added some stuff in the soup as well

"What are you making?" A voice called out from behind you

You jumped a little as you wacked Shadow on the head with a spoon which caused him to jump and curl into a little ball, his quills sticking everywhere

"Oh Shadow I am so sorry, you scared me!" You put the spoon on the table beside you and you kneeled down, slightly petting him which caused him to come out

You smiled "I'm making a soup I found on the internet" You said, Shadow's ear flicked and then he started sniffing

"It does smell delicious" Shadow spoke as his nose wiggled which caused you to chuckled

"Wanna try a bit? See if you like it?" You asked as you grabbed the spoon, opening the lid off the pan making the steam go out, being carefully not to burn yourself

Scooping up some of the soup with some of the other stuff you put in as well to give it more flavour, you then blew on it making the steam go the other way

Then bending down for Shadow to take the spoonful of soup to try it, he sniffed it again and opened his mouth

He began to chew, taking in the flavour and the aroma, his eyes dilated a bit as he seemed to like it

You waited "So? Do you like it?" You asked him as he quickly nodded which caused you to laugh

"Well You're in luck, the soup is finished so I'll dish up your bowl and then you can eat it more" You said as you turned off the heat, stirring the soup a bit then putting some in the bowl for Shadow as you gave it to him

He thanked you and he grabbed himself a spoon and started to eat it quickly

"Woah slow down, you can have much as you like, there is plenty more when you're finished"

You were just glad that Shadow liked it

Okay I've did Hospitality for one year and I'm doing it for another year but I have my certificate and the soup that I made which I can't remember what it's called but It was soo good!

-A<3

[havikshoochiemama]

Unspoken Moments

Caring for Frank Woods isn’t easy, but his nephew, David, makes it better. One lunch and a few stolen moments later, everything changes. [1.1k]

Pairing:David Mason x Reader

Genre:Fluff

Warning: None really… kissing and that’s about it and Frank being Frank

A/N: This is my first fic i ever published i’m so nervous raah, i finally finishing that one david fic i started A YEAR AGO omg i’m such a procrastinator 😻 but i hope you guys enjoy this is for me and the other 6 david fans!! i just finished it up quickly and im def writing a part 2!!!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You enjoyed working at “The Vault” as a caregiver. The pay wasn’t great, and you had to deal with one of the most… difficult patients, Frank Woods. But the job did have its perks.

One of them being your patient’s adopted nephew. The brunette would often stop by once or twice a week, and it was always the highlight of your day—a much-needed break from Frank and his endless war stories. If he told you about Cuba and Castro one more time, you swore you’d snap.

But today was one of those lucky days when David came by.

“I didn’t know you were coming today,” you chuckled, quickly fixing your hair, a desperate attempt to look somewhat decent.

“No worries, I was just checking up on him. How’s he doing?” David whispered the last part, knowing if Frank heard, he’d yell both your ears off.

“He’s actually taking a nap right now. I was just cleaning up the room,” you smiled softly, picking up a few cups to seem busy.

“Oh really?” His voice sounded a bit disappointed. “I was just going to ask if he wanted to join me for dinner.”

That’s when you noticed the small bag in his hand. A little scheme formed in your mind—just to get a few more minutes with him.

“I mean, you’re more than welcome to join me. I was just about to go eat,” you murmured. “But if you’re busy, I totally get it,” you added quickly, just to ease the blow in case he turned you down.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” he smirked, and it melted you. His smile always did that, and if it wasn’t his smile, it was his warm brown eyes that followed you around. The way he held eye contact when he spoke… saying you were down bad for him was an understatement.

“Really?” was the first thing that came out of your mouth. You instantly regretted it, mumbling over your words for what felt like forever. “If you don’t mind eating here, we can. I’m sadly still on the clock.”

His laugh was so infectious, it had you beaming with a smile.

You guided him to the small table in the middle of the room, which was across from all of David’s childhood paintings that Frank had you hang up. He loved talking about David; you could tell he was really proud of the man David had become.

You pulled out the small container of food from the fridge—just some salmon over rice with vegetables. Before taking a bite, you looked over at him. “David… what are you eating?” you tried your best to hold in a laugh.

“Oh this?” he said, looking down at the sad plate of pasta and peas. “I made it,” he smiled. The man might be blessed with everything else, but cooking was definitely not his strong suit.

“David, I can’t in good faith let you eat that,” you smiled as you took the horrible plate from him, handing him yours. Before he could protest, you took a spoonful and fed it to him. Bold, even you were surprised.

“Mmm,” was all that came out of his mouth. “This is so good. Did you make this?”

You nodded, seeing he clearly enjoyed your cooking. After he finished all the food, you both sat there talking. You couldn’t help but notice how he looked at you like you were talking about the most important thing in the world when really, you were just talking about mundane things.

“Why are you staring at me like that? Is there something on my face?” you asked, using humor as a cushion, as you always did.

“No, it’s just…” he paused before continuing. “You just look lovely.”

In shock from what you heard, you quickly joked, “Stop, I look a mess right now.”

He quickly corrected himself, “N-no, I mean, every day you always look beautiful.”

Still in shock, you didn’t know how to reply. Before you could, Frank shouted from across the room, “Would you two lovebirds wrap it up? It’s making me sick.” You wondered when he’d gotten up from his nap. Your face started warming up from being called out.

“Hey, old man,” David spoke up, and you silently thanked him for it.

“When did you come here, David?” Frank asked.

“Oh, I just came to bring some stuff,” David said, looking at his wrist. “But I was just about to head out.”

With that, you quickly got up. “Let me help you.” You mentally face-palmed yourself for that reply. It was dumb, but you just wanted to get out of this conversation, knowing Frank would be on your case about it later.

As the two of you made your way to the door, it was awkward for a bit. You stood there, looking at each other, not knowing what to do. Then David spoke, “It was really nice. I loved your cooking.”

His eyes were darting around the room. “Yeah, you should let me cook for you more,” you teased, playfully poking his arm. You could feel the tension in the air—it was suffocating.

Before you could think twice, you reached out, grabbed the side of his face, and pulled him into a kiss. It felt good. Before you realized what you had done, you pulled away quickly.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

You didn’t even get a chance to finish talking before his lips crashed into yours. That was all the confirmation you needed. Your hands slid to the back of his head, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His arms freely roamed to your waist, lightly holding you. The kiss was warm. It started off tender but quickly deepened, mixed with longing and everything neither of you had ever to act on until now.

That moment, which felt like an eternity, was interrupted by the ring of David’s phone.

“…fuck,” he murmured under his breath, pulling away from the kiss. “Where the fuck are you, Mason?”

A voice from his phone spoke, not even on speaker, but you could still hear the man on the other side.

“I’m on the way, Haper,” David paused, looking at you before speaking again. “Heading there now.”

You let out a small pout at the news.

“We have to do this another time,” he said.

You chuckled. “Gladly.”

Before leaving, he gave you another quick kiss.

Smiling from cheek to cheek, you walked back into the room. Before you could even close the door, Frank spoke. “You know, if you wanted to get at him, you could’ve just asked.” He laughed to himself, finding the whole thing hilarious.

“Frank, I’m not in the mood for your smart-ass comments,” you chuckled, pulling out your phone. You saw a notification from David: “Let me buy you dinner sometime ;)”. You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

A/N: Thank you so much for reading!! open to any criticism in the comments <3 this was my first time writing it’s a bit nerve racking but why does no one write for this fine ass man i’m def going to write a part 2 ^^

[kittykatkatelol]

nearly a 1000 words deep into this

[icewindandboringhorror]

I made a few new wax seal stamps out of clay (like the ones I did for my worldbuilding stuff forever ago), this time just of random symbols that I thought might look good done in the style of painting over the raised part of the wax or etc. :0c Some of them aren't carved deep enough to really show up that well, but overall they worked okay for being clay lol

[surreal-duck]

wanted to redraw their 7th anniversary homescreen before the next anni comes along o7

[every-sanji]

[atissi]

ryoko kui never misses

[a-whiff-of-a-dream]

gonna be honest folks, the letter Blackwall sent to my dear Inqui in Veilguard makes me want to play Inquisition again

[good-beanswrites]

My translyrics for Salamander, written out under the cut :D

This one was much more difficult than the last, but I'm still very satisfied with it! 😤 I'm both sad that my version lost a lot of the fun soundplay of the original, and also waaay more impressed with the lyrics and vocals after digging it like this! I tried to keep it balanced between the original and Fuuta's version, though maybe it ended up leaning more toward the cover, idk. Leaving my specific notes in the tags 👍

Salamander~ Hot's nice, don't you agree? This pa- passion's fine, see?

"But" isn't what I wanna hear, so say "more" loud and clear.

It's heating up all through my mind when I'm with you.

I want a taste, but all this spice may prove more than I can take, (eh?)

Something's on your mind. So spit it out and tell me, don't waste my time, kay?

I'm hooked on this, pass me a dish.

The way I'm starving here without you -- it's a crime

A spicy treat, put on repeat,

Can I get seconds with the same heat? One more time!

Salamander~ Hot's nice, don't you agree? This pa- passion's fine, see?

"But" isn't what I wanna hear, so say "more" loud and clear.

It's heating up all through my mind when I'm with you.

I can't stop anything, although I wouldn't want to stop, oh no --

Take a breath, it's best to cool down or you earn yourself a burn.

I want a bite, I can't help giving in to this new appetite.

Again, again, I want to be on fire when I get to the end.

We live too fast, we burn to ash,

I never handled spices well and it's a crime.

A spicy treat, put on repeat,

Can I get seconds with the same heat? One more time!

I want to burn bright red

I want to burn bright red

Salamander~ Hot's nice, don't you agree? This pa- passion's fine, see?

"But" isn't what I wanna hear, so say "more" loud and clear.

Tell me I'm not alone in my mind!

Salamander~ Look what's happened to me. This pa- passion's crazy

Tell me I'm not delirious, I'm being serious.

It's heating up all through my mind when I'm with you.

I can't stop anything, although I wouldn't want to stop, oh no --

Take a breath, it's best to cool down or you earn yourself a burn.

I want to leave I want to go, but I can never stop, oh no --

Take a breath, it's best to cool down or you earn yourself a burn.

[keeps-ache]

if i ever get around to it i'll maybe write a boring book for people who think they're boring

[giantkillerjack]

So incredibly pleased to see fans sexualizing not just old men but fat old men!

Something inside me just sings to know that Pat from BBC Ghosts could inspire such a large amount of lovingly crafted pornography on AO3!

As a fat fellow who hopes very much to be a fat old man myself someday, what a gift!!

(Actually, as a short fat white boi with brown hair, I bet could do a pretty easy cosplay! OMG AND MY TALL WIFE COULD BE THE CAPTAIN. OMG. DEAD MUSTACHE HUSBANDS. OMG.)