#blake endon

and......now im thinkin....if you have a deadbeat boyfriend.....god help you. blake doesn't consider himself a traditional man by any means, he doesn't want a partner who's totally dumb and submissive to whatever he wants just cause he's a man. he likes it when you resist him a little, actually. but seeing you with some cheap, ugly, unkempt asshole will absolutely have him playing the father figure card when he gets the chance.

"does he treat you well? does he cook? can he clean? what do you mean he doesn't work? how is he gonna take care of you? what, he expects to live off you like a fucking leech?" blake has plenty of opinions and will struggle to keep them to himself. especially if there's an age gap and you're younger than him. he wouldn't have to ban your boyfriend from his home because you're too smart for that, you would never bring a stranger to meet siri in his own sanctuary, which is one of a thousand reasons why he loves you so much--he can trust you. but when your boyfriend picks you up and drops you off blake is hardcore glaring at him from the front lobby where he walked you down to hold open the door. and if you have a fight over text and he refuses to pick you up, telling you you're gonna have to walk, blake drives you with a death grip on the steering wheel as he forces a smile and pretends he's not seething at the audacity of such a pathetic man.

Blake kidnapping you very quickly turns into making you his housewife. The first couple weeks are the most difficult while he's breaking you in, then you gradually earn more and more freedom as you prove that you can be well-behaved in the absence of his authority. He's very good at keeping information from you so you never quite know what you're dealing with and can never get an advantage over him–for those first few weeks you never even knew he had a son, despite being held captive in a small, cramped apartment together just feet from his bedroom. 

Siri is perhaps the only benefit of this whole ordeal. The little boy is so sweet and such a gentle soul, and he's so unlike his terrifying, smothering father who's far more vicious than he appears.  

About a month into your captivity he finally allows you to interact with his baby–you and Blake both sit on the living room carpet with Siri's toys scattered everywhere, a mishmash of cars and transformers and legos that he's excitedly run up and pushed in your lap to show you. The curly-haired little one has just ducked his head back into his toybox to find his next favourite when his father shuffles closer to you. Blake maintains a smile even as he leans over and quietly whispers a promise in your ear–a promise to gut you if you ever think of hurting his son, or using him to get away. That's the only time he ever openly threatens you with violence and it's a lesson that needs to be learned only once, particularly when he's so quick to hide his sinister nature when Siri turns around. You're certain from then on that you can never do anything of the sort because Blake is absolutely going to keep his promise if you do, and then some.

Yet your kidnapper's whole goal is to get you pregnant with a child of your own, and he's been trying since that first night when he drugged your food and carried you to his car from the diner. He made sure to lace a little bit of weed in there too to get you wet and loose right from the start–it's only fair if you've been leading him on from the start with those pretty smiles and glowing compliments whenever you eat his food. Yeah, he wants to fill that soft belly with his baby now. You're just not in a position to disagree. 

Every evening is a nightmare once Siri goes to bed. Blake makes you take a pregnancy test in front of him and sits on the edge of the bathtub to wait, hoping for those two little lines to show up while he taps his foot incessantly. It's always immediately obvious when the test is negative because he puffs out a little sigh, rolls out his shoulders, and flings the test in the garbage before he stands up. He always offers his hand to help you to your feet, but you never take it the first time. He always has to force you. He has to grab you by the arm and wrestle you back to the bedroom, shove you if he has to, and drag you by the hair on the nights where you're really feeling feisty. If you knock something over or make a fuss on the way, who cares? His son won't wake up to the noise and he'll never know his new mommy didn't want to be here in the first place. That's what Blake is striving for. Harmony.

Isn't that a good name for a baby? When you're fighting against him pulling your clothes off–especially when he's already agitated by you refusing to play house–Blake clamps a tight fist around your throat and orders you to list off baby names while he gets to work. He hardly tries to open you up with his fingers since he knows you've already been molded to the shape of him, so he just slides home with a grunt and starts thrusting while you're still wiggling around and trying not to give in. You do. You have to. Blake won't let you breathe otherwise. His grip eases each time you spill one out and gets even looser when you find ones he likes, so you keep trying even though it's as degrading and humiliating as being made to lick his boots. It feels dirty and subservient like you're his meek little wife who does whatever he says, but that's what Blake wants from you. You can be a person and gain some freedom later, but first he wants you to break just so you accept that he's now the most important person in your life. 

Ultimately, Blake wouldn't have gone through all the trouble of kidnapping you if he didn't think you were worth keeping. No matter how much it seems like he wants to be cruel to you and couldn't care less how you feel, there's moments where he's gentle. Even after he's finished fucking you raw, despite how much you fought against it, he soothes the bruises and cleans you up as lovingly as a caring husband would. Yes, he's possessive when he rubs your belly and murmurs to the child he hopes he's planted there, but when you're sore and you can't walk and the pain springs tears to your eyes? Blake bundles you up in blankets and brings you warm, sweet coffee in the morning. 

One day you overhear him talking while he's in the kitchen. Siri's playing in his room and out of sight while Blake balances the phone between his ear and his shoulder, his hands occupied as he cooks dinner for the three of you. 

“-Yes, I have the money, but I'm not lending you any.” It's impossible not to eavesdrop with such a titillating conversation happening just down the hall, particularly when your life is mostly filled with the same two people day after day. Blake barely trusts you enough to go out on the balcony alone, after all. “I'm serious, Nat. I'm not doing this again. Don't tell me to fuck off.” 

From creeping a little closer you can clearly hear the aggravated voice on the other end of the line, and it's surprising to see just how calm Blake is despite how jumped up she seems to be. He barely bats an eye as he switches hands and wipes them on a rag before stirring the pasta he's just tossed in sauce on the stove. 

“I'm glad you're doing better, but this isn't about us. Siri barely knows you anymore–will you listen? I don't want him growing up thinking he wasn't wanted because you won't even send him a birthday card.” There's a pause, and then a long, meandering chatter over the crackly phone as he listens intently. Eventually he shakes his head and mutters something under his breath. “That's not a good enough reason. If you won't show up for our kid then I sure as hell won't give you anything. Don't call again unless it's about him.” With that he shuts the phone off with a resounding click and slams it back down on the cradle on the corner of the counter. He tilts his head just slightly and still manages to catch a glimpse of you as you try to shrink back out of sight. 

“I'm guessing you heard all of that?” Just that one little nod is enough to draw the biggest sigh out of him that you've ever heard. But Blake somehow still doesn't waver while he lines up the plates and picks up the pot. At his request you go get Siri for dinner and eat together in tense silence at first, at least until the toddler starts babbling on about his new favourite cartoon and his silliness eases the atmosphere. From there it's a normal night, or what you've slowly adjusted to as ‘normal’, and Blake doesn't say a word about his earlier conversation at all. You can pick up on enough to know that it's a touchy subject and you shouldn't get near it. The two of you do the dishes in silence and Siri's put to bed soon after, and then…it's just quiet again. 

Blake doesn't give you a test to take, he doesn't drag you into the bedroom, he just flops down on the couch and switches on the tv. There's no invitation to join him or threat if you don't, but you find yourself snuggling up under his arm anyways and dozing the hours away on his chest. It's the most damning evening of your captivity because you've finally turned a corner; your life is starting to seem truly normal again. You're getting comfortable despite everything he's done to you and he's making you feel like this is really your family, and not the prison he sealed you in from his own selfish desires.

Your partner quietly opens up to you about Nathalie after awhile. How they got together for a casual fling only to find that he was going to be a father, fresh out of the military and nowhere near stable enough for a baby. He tried so hard to keep their family together but he was uneducated, she suffered severe mental illness, and Siri needed so much extra care in those early years. He slowly confesses the raw, torrid details of his first baby's life when she wasted away from cancer before his eyes, and how her death drove him to make sure Siri never spent a day without the love of his family. You can sense that intensity of his yearning for a proper family in those words, it should be scary for you…but it somehow only drives you deeper into his arms as you try to comfort him. 

As if he wasn't sure already, that's when he knows for certain that you're the one. You can step in as the mother Siri's always needed but never really had, and before long he'll have siblings that will make sure he always has someone to play with. He won't ever have to feel lonely or beg for attention from his only parent, he won't have to fear being abandoned or left behind if something happens to his Papa, he can be the center of your world as much as he is Blake's. He's only fallen even deeper in love with you when you show such tact with Siri's difficulties, like the day he came home from work to not only find you still there, having not escaped or hurt yourself, but studying from a sign language book to practice your signing. Or when Siri threw one of his first tantrums in your presence and instead of lashing out or turning away, you calmly marched him to the time-out corner and waited patiently for him to calm down. Your gentility, your understanding, your strength in the face of adversity…he knows in his heart that you were made for motherhood. You were meant to have his babies, to be his wife, and to raise your family in the warmth and comfort he was desperate to provide. 

It wasn't until Blake started coming on to you that you felt something was truly amiss. It started harmlessly, with a cheeky comment here and there and a passing touch on occasion as he handed you pots and pans to wash. One day he made a joke that bordered on salacious when Lilith was standing right there–and the next he didn't say a word to you and kept his head down all service, leaving you to assume he'd gotten an earful from his girlfriend about flirting with you. But it got even weirder when she started making comments, touching your arm, even making excuses to bend down more than far enough for you to get a glimpse under her skirt. It was escalating bit by bit each day, but everything finally came to a head when the three of you had to stay late for inventory.

You finished washing up the last of the day's dishes from dinner service, and wiped the sweat off your forehead with a rag. The two of them had already busied themselves in the walk-in to start with the first few counts, but when you peeked inside to give them a hand, they were nowhere to be seen. If they weren't making out somewhere, then they definitely just bounced and left you with all the work alone.

“Fuck's sakes..” You huffed, threw your rag down on the nearest counter, and took a step out in the dining room to look for them-

-And before you knew what was happening, you got jumped.

“Ah-!” A shout escaped you as somebody's hands tightened around your neck, and you felt something squeeze down on it–though before you could even think to fight, a click echoed in your ears and the sound of familiar laughter echoed through the restaurant.

“Gotcha!” Lilith spun you around to face her, smiling wide and prettier than usual, while the warm hands of your favourite line cook gripped your shoulders and he loomed over you from behind. Still trembling, your fingers grazed the tightness around your throat and you felt it. A dog collar.

“Wh-What is this?” Stammering, you weren't sure what to make of it. But Lilith's eyes just glinted, and when she nodded at her boyfriend behind you, you stiffened at the feeling of him affixing something to it with another soft clack. A leash dangled down from the collar that you didn't yet know sported your name, which Blake rubbed his thumb over intently while he let his girl take the lead.

“This is the part where you get on your knees.” She cooed in a sing-song voice, but at your confusion she lovingly stroked your cheek and took your face in her hands. “Blake and I have talked a lot about you. You're important to us, you know?”

“I…am?” The idea in itself was ludicrous to you, but the two of them were unfazed.

“Of course you are! You're just-”

“Perfect.” Blake finished for her, with a kiss to the shell of your ear. “Perfect for us.”

“We want you to be ours.” She continued, and her hands drifted, but not too far. Not yet. “All ours. Part of our family!” She could hardly contain herself at the idea, you swore you saw hearts in her eyes.

“H-Huh? But you…what? You have each other, y-you have Blake's kid-”

“There's something we're missing.” He took the length of the leash and pulled it between his fingers, before finally tugging it tight against your leash. “Something like…a pet. A loyal puppy.”

“Somebody who follows us everywhere, who would do anything we ask…” She cupped your chest in her hands, squeezed, and swallowed your gasp in a barely-there kiss. “Somebody who needs us to survive.”

“I..” Your voice could hardly rise in their overwhelming presence, and your body itself trembled just standing so close to the two of them. They were so much, so overwhelming, it felt like they were already inside you.

You weren't sure what exactly you said after that, but the blur in your memories came to a halt once Blake pushed you down to your knees in the middle of the dining room floor. Lilith bounced from one window to the other shuttering the blinds, and tugged on the front door hard to make doubly sure it was locked while the cook wrapped up your leash in his fist.

“Puppies don't need clothes.” He smirked. “Take ‘em off.”

Somehow, his commanding voice flipped something over in your brain, and any hesitancy melted away in an instant as you quietly obeyed him. Maybe it was the rush of a thrill welling up in you at them propositioning you in the first place, or the innate need to please them and earn their praise that you'd been internally struggling with for months now. Once you knelt cold and shivering on the floor for him, Lilith scooped up your clothes and tucked them away for safekeeping before undoing her hair from its bun.

“Okay, puppy.” She crouched down, smile as wide as ever, and cooed in a voice that melted through every superheated vein in your body. “Are you gonna be a good girl?”

Before even thinking about it, you nodded eagerly. The two of them lit up at once, elated to see you already falling into the role, and Blake smugly passed your leash into Lilith's hand so he could start unzipping.

“I've been waiting for this all day…sorry about the smell, pup.” Even though he spoke the words with hesitation, the confidence with which he tugged himself out of his grease-stained pants was more than enough to wet your thighs in an instant. And he was true to his word–the smell of sweat and oil from ten hours in the kitchen was palpable, but the musk only drew you in as you imagined what it might taste like. “Aw, you got puppy-brain, baby?” It shouldn't have sounded so sweet coming from him, but it did. The gleam in your eyes and figurative wagging of your tail was apparently very obvious.

“Of course she does. I told you she would.” Lilith grinned, slowly wrapping the leash more and more around her hand to gradually pull you closer. Instead of shuffling, you tentatively put each hand down and crawled towards her, which just made your new owner beam with pride as she welcomed you into her arms with a kiss. “Good girl! Is it time for a treat, puppy?” She cooed, reaching up beside her to grip Blake’s cock firmly in her hand–and at that first touch alone, he was practically fighting back the urge to moan out loud. “Blake's always hard when you're in the kitchen, so he's a little sensitive.”

“Hey!” He almost pouted, and laid his hand on Lilith's head not to tug her hair, but definitely to remind her that he could. “Not always.”

“That's true, sometimes you're jerking off in the walk-in–oops!” She laughed at ‘accidentally’ spilling his little secret, but before he could take any action your tongue wetting your lips drew the attention of each of them back to you. Blake slipped his own hand around the base, and tilted himself down to tap the tip against your lips, only to gasp at the feel of your mouth parting so easily to let him slip inside. Just the tip at first–he could hardly stand the warmth of you suckling on it without his knees buckling–but soon, slowly, he fed every inch inside until you could smell the soap he lathered his pubes with. He held both sides of your head, breathed in deep, and let his eyes flutter shut as he tried not to cum.

“How wet is she?” He murmured, and you yelped softly around him when Lilith unreservedly felt underneath you to see.

“She's dripping.” Another giggle escaped her, this time peppered with a soft sucking motion as she licked her fingers clean.

“Fuck, Lil.” He groaned, craned his neck back, and you spotted his adam's apple bob as he swallowed dryly to distract himself. But then he grabbed your hair, pulled you all the way off until you felt hollow without him, and grabbed Lilith instead to push himself past her soft lips and come to a stop in her throat. Blake gasped, shuddered, and tensed at her nails biting into his thighs–but then you watched as he slowly did the same to her, except this time she was cupping her hand under her chin to catch the cum spilling out of her mouth. Despite the suddenness of it all, he patted her head and stroked your hair smoothly. “Sorry…couldn't hold it back. Didn't wanna scare her..”

Maybe in a bid to earn more praise, you leaned over to tentatively lick at the stuff dripping into her hand, and found it to be pretty…tasty, all things considered. Before you knew it, she was tapping her lips and you kissed her, fully aware of the mess and receptive the moment she started pushing it into your mouth with her tongue. It wasn't long before you were just sucking face, all traces of Blake's spunk lovingly licked away. It was already twitching to life again by the time you broke it off.

“Holy shit.” He mumbled, awestruck, and gripped himself once again; and although she'd just been taken by surprise, nothing could wipe the smile from Lilith's face in the moment.

“I'd give you hell for that, but I just got puppy kisses, so-” She playfully stuck her tongue out at him and he ruffled her hair, clearly as lovey-dovey as usual–except this time you didn't feel the sting of jealousy that came with not being a part of it. Now, you were at the center.

“What do you say, baby? Do I get a kiss too?” You jumped up, riled up at the word in itself, and pawed at his legs until he leaned down to meet you halfway. It felt good, it felt nice…and when he reached down to press his fingers inside you, it got even warmer and sweeter than it already was.

“Looks like you're leaking, sweetie.” Lilith tutted, her hands soft as she rubbed her way up and down your back. You couldn't sit back down with him fondling you, forced to wobble on your knees as he trapped you in a much wetter and hotter kiss than you expected. “We should get that looked after so you don't make a mess.” You whined, every part the perfect pup, and let the two of them lift you off your feet just to lay you out in the nearest booth where both of them could see you in all your glory; wet, shaky, and bound to that adorable leash and collar they got embroidered just for you. Lilith slid into the seat ahead of you and slung one leg over the other, gathered up your hair in her fist, and gently pulled your upper body up, up, up until you had your naked chest pressed to hers. She unbuttoned hers just slowly enough to make you pant and paw at it, and how cute were you? So cute.

Meanwhile, Blake spit into his palm and rubbed it into his cock without any hesitation behind you–he was ready, more than ready, and if it wasn't obvious by his firm grip around your waist then it certainly was by the way he spread you open with his thumbs to see just what he was getting into.

“Fuck, she's soaked-” He said it with a near-crazed grin that, if you'd turned around to see it, might've intimidated you–instead it just made you bear down on nothing. “That's so fucking hot. That's what puppy brain does to you, huh? Makes you a loose little slut? Whine for it, then.”

“Aww, don't tease her,” Lilith crooned, your cheeks already cupped in her hands as she guided your face to her chest. “She's so needy already.” Even so, she passed the lead into his hand while she spoke, just daring him to yank it as he squeezed that swollen tip snugly past your slippery folds. He nearly slipped out completely from your slick gathering there, but he managed to hold steady with the promise of warm puppy-cunt just waiting to be stretched out.

“Good girl,” He sighed out, the clicking of your leash as he tugged it causing him to jerk his hips forward just a little, just enough to force a beautiful whine off your lips as your owner staked his claim on you. Lilith didn't give you any leeway either, her fingers firmly in your hair as she smothered your face between her soft tits. You couldn't help your own drooling as they jiggled but she just giggled at the sight of you panting, squirming like a pup in heat being properly bred.

It felt right. What use was a brain if you only thought about the two of them anyways? It was much easier to be a puppy, a pet, and a plaything than it was to be a person. To be loved, adored, given everything you needed…they both promised all of that and more as they humped you between them, his thrusts heavy and her kisses sticky as they pushed you back and forth, back and forth. The booth would need some serious cleaning up once you were finished, and you were getting there one pump at a time as Blake's balls clapped wetly against your ass.

Plap! Plap! Plap! The sounds that echoed off your cheeks filled your ears and into your mind–you knew then they were the only noises you wanted to hear again. Slick and loud but muffled by the soft, milky flesh of Lilith's chest that shined with your spit from panting into it. You bit down and she didn't even scold you for it, just laughed breathlessly and rubbed the top of your head as your body started to shiver. It all went numb from there because it didn't really matter where Blake finished or how rough his grip was that he left bruises, just that your owners talked you through it til the very end until you were shaking and dripping all the way down your own thighs.

“Still there, pup?” Blake nuzzled into your cheek for a peck. Lilith almost seemed more worn out than he did, but she'd been trying and failing to fight the sensitivity of your tongue on her breasts until she just soaked through her own skirt. The fact that she was that sensitive was definitely a detail you'd need to save in your back pocket for later. “That was fucking awesome–oh, looks like someone's got a treat for you.” He nodded towards his girlfriend, who pulled her hand out from her panties and stuffed her slicked-up fingers into your mouth without preamble. Just heady, sour-bordering-on-sweet ichor that you lapped up and sucked on until every bit of it was gone.

“You deserved that, sweetie. Couldn't have asked for a better pup.” She lifted your chin up for a kiss and to squeeze you tight to her chest again, this time slowly grinding her hips upward to graze her clit against yours. “Don't get sleepy just yet, mkay? Not done breaking you in yet.”

“Yeah-” Blake lifted his wrist to check his watch and smirked when he saw the time. “-still got an hour or so with the babysitter.” With that, he leaned down to your ear and stroked a warm hand down your back as he whispered. “Just enough time to fuck you in every booth and on every table in this place–so every time you walk in, you're gonna remember what it feels like to cum your little puppy-brains out.”

Even more frightening is when he comes back inside a few minutes later with a smile. He doesn't say anything, just hands you a cup of water that tastes bitter when you're forced to swallow it. And then you're out like a light.

You didn't need to be sedated, but Blake's kind enough to insist you go under for the procedure. It's a quick one and something Ken is readily familiar with, so it doesn't take long to lay you back and remove that pesky little device that you thought your captor boyfriend would never find out about. Lots of pain medication later and hopefully you won't even be too sore by the time Blake's ready to get you on the right path again. He even gets a few pills that Ken says will speed along your little 'fertility journey' as Blake puts it.

cw: somno, noncon

Blake had given you the briefest once-over when you showed up at his front door–probably just to make sure you fit the description you gave–but even so, the look in his eyes gave you a tugging sensation at your nerves. Like he was really looking at something else, or maybe even checking you out…but that's just ridiculous. He probably doesn't have a wife considering the distinct lack of a feminine presence in the house, but he might have a girlfriend or another partner that would nip those possibilities in the bud. Oh, and he is a bit older than you, plus he's frustratingly handsome and charming to the point that he's completely out of your league.

He sets down the kid just for him to go running off to his toy box, eyebags dark and prominent as he runs his fingers through his hair tiredly. Yet, when he looks at you, he's inclined to smile a little lopsidedly.

“Thanks again. He's a handful, but he shouldn't give you much trouble. Right, Siri?” He turns to the boy and taps him on the shoulder, and when he whips his little dark-haired head around his father gestures the warning to him. “Right, Siri?”

The little boy fingerspells back. “Yes, papa.” Satisfied, Blake gives him a kiss on the head and stands up to pluck his jacket off the armchair as he walks by, ruffling his hair while you follow him to the front door of the apartment.

“Alright, that should be everything-” He pats his pockets and digs in them for his wallet, from which he starts thumbing out crumpled bills with a dab of his finger on his tongue. “-Twenty, thirty–here, forty.” He claps the money down in your palm and gives it a gentle squeeze. That, paired with a wink from his green eyes as he opens the door has your heart fluttering in your ribcage like a bird thumping on bars. “Anything goes wrong, call the restaurant. I shouldn't be too late.”

“Have a good shift, Mr. Endon.” You smile with bright eyes. Blake lingers in the doorway with his hand on the knob like he's rethinking his leave altogether, but soon enough, he's on his way.

“Thanks, doll. See you soon.” He grins right back, and steps down the hall backwards just to catch one more lingering look at you before turning on his heel and bounding down the corridor to the elevator.

***

Over ten hours later, the sun has set over the horizon outside, and you've only just managed to put the little firecracker to bed.

After lunch, Siri had dashed around the apartment several times in an attempt to get you to chase him–and when you tired out, he'd sat down in the living room and gathered all his toys together to make a sort of kaiju simulator. At least that was simpler for you to entertain, as all you had to do was take a break on the couch to catch your breath and watch the little guy stack up his blocks to make buildings and arrange all his planes and cars on pretend roads, so he could smash through them like godzilla. Once you'd managed to get him to clean up the aftermath of his ruined city and put all his trucks and trains and rubble back into the toy box, he took a while to pass out on the sofa and you had some respite, just as Mr. Endon had promised.

Once he'd expelled all that energy, the late afternoon had gone by in a much calmer state. You put some canned spaghetti on the stove and frozen meatballs in the toaster oven, and after you coaxed him into eating his fill and cleaned up the mess left behind, Siri crawled into your lap and signed that he wanted to watch cartoons. So you did, and he cuddled with you so sweetly you weren't sure he was the same rowdy maniac you'd run after earlier. But all was well, and he went down easier than you expected, though the boy clearly wanted his dad to tuck him in and a few tears were shed when he realized he wouldn't be. Yet, still, he went down like a babe eventually and you bummed out on the couch for an hour now with no sign of Mr. Endon's return.

He said he would be home by 9. You think to yourself, sighing softly as you weave a thread from your sleeve between your fingers boredly. Part of you wants to call the diner, see what's taking so long, but would that be over the line? You have a life, after all. But you're nervous, and unsure, and before long you have the phone to your ear and the line is ringing to the other side.

“Hello?” A woman's voice picks up on the third ring. However tired you feel, she sounds twice as much. “How can I help you?” She tries to put a cheery spin on her words.

“H-Hi, um…is…is Mr. Endon-?”

“Oh–Blake?” You stutter in trying to answer, but she speaks again. “You wouldn't happen to be Blake’s sitter, would you? He said you might call.”

“Uh…” You twist the phone’s cord around your fingers. “...Yeah. Is he, uh–he was just running a bit late, so I was wondering if, y’know, everything’s all right.”

“Yeah! Yeah, everything’s fine. Well, uh, he’s fine–we just got hit with a health inspection unexpectedly, so they're doing a deep clean. He tried going home early but, honestly, the kitchen would probably kick his butt if he skipped out.”

“I understand, yeah–that’s fine.” You stammer out. Why didn't he call you? You silently wave the thought away. “Sorry for bothering you.”

“It's okay!” She replies, kindness creeping into her voice. “They should be done pretty soon. Want me to tell him you called?”

Just as you're accepting her friendly offer, someone calls out to her; Lil, is that for me? And with a sudden swap of the phone you can hear the huff of Blake's low voice hit the receiver, your hairs raising on your neck at the thought of him getting annoyed with you calling his work. Even though he gave you permission to.

“Hey sweetheart,” He breathes into the phone. Your skin prickles for an entirely different reason at that affectionate nickname. “Sorry, I got caught up. Siri doing okay? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, uh…yeah, we're fine. Siri's in bed. He ate all his dinner–uh, except for a meatball or two.” Blake laughs gently on the other end.

“That's great. He's never that good for me. He must like you.” The way he sighs betrays the front he's putting up, and that he's really just running on fumes. “Can you hold out just a little longer, honey? I'll be home right away. Ten minutes, tops.”

“No, of course! Don't rush, we're doing okay.”

Honey?

“I'll pay you extra when I get back, promise.”

“It's really okay, Mr. Endon.” Your lips twinge upwards into a smile despite trying not to let it show. “Siri's great. I really don't mind staying longer.”

“You're a gem.” He sighs in relief. “Okay, I'm on my way. See you soon.”

“See you.” The line clicks, and you force yourself to hold in a squeal when you set down the phone. He's really fucking you over, and if it were anyone else you'd be pissed, but how could you be mad when he's so…so…ugh!

Despite trying not to get too excited about it, you hop up off the couch and hurry to the bathroom to check your hair, splash a little water on your face, and clean up as best you can before you hear the key turning in the front door. Your feet pound the wood flooring as you hurry back, and manage to hop over the couch arm and lay back semi-casually just seconds before Blake walks into the front hall of the apartment. He moves to shut the door behind him with his foot, obviously unworried about making noise–it's not like Siri will hear him, anyways. As he hustles into the living room, hair still tied up and away from his face, he stops at the sink to splash some water on his cheeks and wash away the sweat dripping from his forehead. The residue of the hot kitchen lingers on him still when he meets you at the edge of the couch.

“That's my bad, sweetheart.” He breathes, and gently shakes a bag at his side before setting it on the coffee table. “Brought you some food that was left over. There's wine in there too,” He calls over his shoulder, walking back into the kitchen to crack open the cupboards. “Have whatever you like, you can take home the rest. Want a drink?” He taps on a wine glass on the upper shelf. With a shake of your head, he relents and goes for the fridge to crack open a beer.

“Thank you, Mr. Endon. It was really no trouble, Siri's a great kid.” You smile as you stand from the sofa. As if sensing that you're gearing up to leave, Blake steps around the counter to meet you.

“I should be thanking you. It's tough for us right now, and you're really doing me a solid.” He takes a sip from his drink, his green eyes piercing yours for an instant. “I'd like to see you–have you here again, y'know. For Siri.”

“I'd love to.” Oh, now you're really beaming. He must think you're so naïve and too bubbly, but Blake doesn't seem bothered. No, he seems more interested as he leans against the counter, surveying you as his fingertip mindlessly traces the mouth of the can. After a touch too long of just silence, he reaches behind himself and you immediately try to wave off his gesture.

“Really, Mr. Endon, it's fine!” You insist with a warm face. “You don't need to pay me back.” He raises a brow, wallet in hand, and chuckles as he sets his beer down.

“Maybe I can pay you another way, then.” He murmurs with a glint in those piercing eyes.

To say your heart skips would be an understatement, because it jumps into your throat the moment those words leave his mouth. “Ah, you're funny!” Your laugh comes out so awkward and high-pitched you can feel it in the back of your head. There's no fucking way he meant that.

With another beat of silence, Blake finally laughs and flips open the leather pocket, two crisp 20s pinched between his fingers that he presses into your palm. His insistence, paired with your embarrassment, ensures that you clench them in your hand and take the extra pay without much more resistance, and before long you're ushering yourself out of his apartment with a few more pleasantries exchanged before the door finally clicks behind you.

While you make your way down the hall towards the stairs, your heart pounds in your ears so loud you can barely hear anything over it, not the padding of your footsteps or the soft ding of the elevator as you step inside. The bag sags heavily in the crook of your arm–you can feel the bottle of wine in there, a whole bottle it seems like–and what the hell were you thinking? Either that last comment was straight-up harassment or you were an idiot to brush it off like it was nothing. Blake clearly enjoys your company yet you just had to fumble the bag like always, and you shake your head with a sigh as you wonder whether he was really hitting on you or not.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket and you fumble around to reach for it, finally slipping it out and balancing it as you hold up the bag of food. There's a text from Blake.

- Hey sweets. Thanks again for helping me out. Siri let me know you're his new favourite sitter haha :)

- I need a sitter on wednesday, too, if you're interested?

Without an ounce of hesitation you type out your reply with your thumb, and feel a familiar flutter in your chest as you send off your “of course!” faster than your brain can even catch up. Just as you're registering it, your phone buzzes once more.

- Perfect. Can't wait to see you again <3

- **siri, I meant siri can't wait to see you haha

- But I can't wait either :p