Customer was just so mean to me over the phone abt something I literally couldn't do anything about 🙃

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲! 𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐑)

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡, 𝑠𝑢𝑔𝑎𝑟 𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑑𝑦 𝑡𝑦𝑝𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝, 𝑠𝑒𝑥𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑝𝑢𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑐

𝐺𝐼𝐹𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒, 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡 𝑔𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑠

❁ 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠

„Please welcome the world-wide known cellist Ian Park, who will lead today's concert, please applause for him.“ loud sounds of hands clapping resonated in the spacious orchestra hall, when the man in question stood up with a cello in his hands.

Over the time you two were together, it became a tradition for you and your sugar daddy Hongjoong to go to a classical music concert at least once a month. Always get dressed up in new robes he bought for you and walk down the corridors of the historical theatre as the people around you were amazed by how beautiful and a powerful couple you two were.

As the first tones of the symphony came out, your ears felt like melting from the lovely music played by the greatest musicians of the present time. Hongjoong's hand was resting on the part of your thigh exposed by the high slit in your dress. Fingertips drawing figures on your skin and going higher under the velvety material of your dress and reaching the seamless thong you wore underneath. „Don't you dare go any higher.“

„Was that meant to the soprano lady, or me?“ chuckled Hongjoong lowly as his hand went higher, his fingers rubbing up and down the wet patch on your underwear. Instead of an answer, a quiet whimper left your mouth unwillingly. Thank god, you were in one of the balcony booths and covered by dark, too far from the prying eyes.

His hand skillfully pushed your panties to the side, exposing your slit to the fresh air, the sudden chilly feeling and Hongjoong's fervent touches, made goosebumps rise up on your upper thighs.

As soon as his thumb came in a contact with your reddened clit that was desperately in need of his touch, your body started squirming in the seat, his second hand keeping you down from moving too much by gripping your thighs.

Having decided that you seemed to be aroused more than enough by the delicate stimulation of your clitoris he gave you, Hongjoong slipped two of his fingers covered by rings, into your heat, coating them in your slick right away, which made it only easier for him to thrust them into you in an intense speed and hardness, never failing to brush directly against your sweet spot, making the knot tighten in your stomach as you were getting so close to staining the luxurious seats of the national theatre building.

„Fuck, you gonna let it out, princess? You look so classy, yet you're getting off on my fingers like some bitch in heat in the middle of an opera concert, how pathetic. Your cunt couldn't wait any longer? What were you thinking of, that made you wet so easily, even though we are in public, hm? Tell me, my dirty girl.“

❁ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚

„Seong- I mean, Mr. Park, I've organized the papers for you, here.“ you announced as you stepped into his spacious office, the glass-wall behind him allowing you to look at the panorama of the city, but even better sight than that was your sugar daddy Seonghwa focused on the papers in front of him.

The white shirt he had on, which covered the body you knew well, was slightly unbuttoned as Seonghwa ran his hands into his hair out of frustration. The level of stress in his body much more higher than it should be, as he tried to finish the paperwork for launching a sub-corporation of the company he ran.

When you first started working as his secretary, you two were mean to each other, always nitpicking on each other's words and arguing, but it all started when he got you the keys to your new apartment in the building he owned, or when you two fucked after the ball that was part of the business conference in Milan, and over the months you two got closer and closer to each other until he eventually became your sugar daddy.

„Mhm, Y/N, come here baby.“ going over to where he was, you stood in front of him, his arms wrapping around your waist and tugging you down to sit on his lap. „I'm so stressed baby, but I can't leave work until I finish the paperwork, why don't you get on your pretty knees and support me while I'm working?“

„Yes, sir.“ Nodding your head with a sly smirk, you obeyed his request, knowing exactly what he meant, and slipped down from his lap, going under the high desk he worked at, you reached for his pants, your fingers swiftly unbuttoning and tugging them down. Reaching for his briefs, you could hear Seonghwa chuckle at how impatient you were.

Wrapping your hand around his girth, your other hand resting on his thigh, your wet lips neared his tip leaking of pre-cum. Giving the tip kitten licks and teasingly kissing along his shaft, you tried to rile him up as much as possible, but he didn't seem to be having much of it, his hand gripping on your ponytail rather harshly, tugging on it to make you look up.

„Princess, get to work and don't tease, or else I'll have to knock on your apartment door tonight with a collar and a leash. Actually... a whore like you would like that, right? Being a fuck toy for me to use. Look at you right now, on your knees in my office knowing that anyone could walk in right now. Now suck on it like it's a lollipop, my kitten.“

❁ 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨

When Yunho said, „Baby baby, your favourite brand launched their new collection today, why don't we go and see some of it“ you did not expect to spend the next few hours shopping for clothes with him. At first, he wanted to see the brand, then he decided he needs some clothes for the press conference of the drama he was starred as the main character in, and then it ended up with you supposedly needing new dresses, „Yunho I don't need any dress.“

Shutting you with 'quiet baby', his hand tugged you to the shop he had in mind. It was a shop that specialized in gowns and formal clothing for different balls and this type of stuff. „Yuyu, I don't need any dress, I'm not going to any ball, so why would I need them.“

But Yunho wasn't having it, already too engaged with picking dresses for you. Going through the different rich materials and colours, his eyes landed on a beautiful black gown, with exposed shoulders and a high slit on the left leg. „Go try them on baby.“

Rolling your eyes at his request, too tired to do anything, but still agreeing to try them on to make your sugar daddy happy, you took the dress from his hand. Closing the door of the changing booth, you got too bothered with undressing, that you didn't notice Yunho slip in. That was until his soft fingertips started brushing against your collar bones, slipping the bra straps off your body. „Yunho what are you doing he-“

The words got caught in your throat as Yunho pressed his fingers against your wet slit, pressing onto your covered clit hardly, earning a moan from you. „What am I doing here? I think that's pretty obvious, I've noticed how desperately my girl looked, so I deducted I should help her... but she has to be quiet.“

Tugging your panties to the side, he got hold of his already hard shaft, pumping it a few times and lubricating it with his pre-cum. Positioning himself at your entrance, he looked at your reflection in the mirror, smirking at the desperate look on your face.

Slipping his length into your heat, he started off with a steady and fast pace, hitting the sweet spot hardly. One of his hands holding you by your waist and the other one shutting you as it was pushed against your mouth. „I don't have that many hands baby, so please rub your clit for me.“

Knowing well as to not anger him by not obeying his instructions, your hand slipped in between your legs, fingers coming to direct contact with the reddened bundle of nerves, desperate for any external stimulation, as the tip of Yunho's cock stimulated it from inside. The work of your fingers on your wet pussy was bringing you closer and closer to your sweet high, which you knew was for sure going to be exquisite.

Letting out incoherent moans as Yunho's pace got faster, his cock twitching signalising that you weren't the only one nearing your high, as your walls clenched around him tightly. „Fuck, fuck, fuck-“ Your mouth wide agape from the unexpected pleasure delivered to you, resulting in your fluids squirting not only on Yunho's well-endowed dick, but also the mirror you were pressed against. „Alright, you got tissues? Cuz I don't think the shop assistants will like to clean it..“

❁ 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠

It was Friday, which meant your regular dinner with your sugar daddy Yeosang at the luxurious restaurant you always went to. Dressed up in a comfortable, but pretty and seductive dress, you hopped into the back seat of the black car. Yeosang signalled to the chauffeur that he can get going to the restaurant.

Arriving at the hotel where the restaurant was situated, you went up by an elevator to the highest floor, which secured the impressive panorama. Being greeted by the usual waitress with a bottle of red wine in her hands, you excused yourself to use the restroom, while the cooks prepare food for you two.

Placing your purse down on the limestone sink, you took a look at your reflection in the mirror. Taking out the red lipstick you had with you, you reapplied it, since the previous layer got smudged.

Smudged thanks to Yeosang's hungry lips, because as soon as you sat down on the leather seat of his car, his hand immediately wrapped around your neck to bring you closer, his mouth fervently devouring yours.

Sighing you leaned against the counter, trying to get over the bemusing feeling in your lower parts, because how could he arouse you just with some kisses? Closing your eyes, you breathed out heavily, trying to calm yourself down so you can get back to him, without beseeching him to rail you right there, not noticing that the said man was present in the restroom, standing right behind you... That was until his hands laid themselves on your hips, catching you out of guard as you looked up in the mirror to see his boasting grin.

„What's wrong princess? Did my little actions in the car arouse you that much that you can't get back to me? Did you plan on getting yourself off to get rid of the heat in your panties? Did you think your little fingers could help you? I thought you were smarter than that, you should thank the deity that you have me. I'll free you of the arousal and wetness, all you have to do is beg.“

Weighing your options, you knew he was right..„Sir, please, rub my needy cunt, sir I'm all yours, so please help me release the knot in my stomach.“ Chuckling at the way you begged, knowing well how to do it after Yeosang taught you for months, his hands rolled your dress up to your waist, revealing your cotton panties.

Tugging them down to your knees, Yeosang leaned closer to you, looking at your reflection in the mirror, while whispering into your ear, „Relax, mister will rub your little cunt so well, so lean into his touch and be a good girl for him.“

❁ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧

As you remember falling asleep in San's car, waking up in your sugar daddy's private jet was quite astounding. Lying on the soft cushions of the seat you were in, you let out a few whimpers as you stretched your sore body.

„Well, good morning baby. Did you get good sleep? I tried to move you to the jet as carefully as possible to not wake you up.“ Smiling at him, you murmured a few words of your thankfulness and how your sleep was.

Unclassping the seat belt, you stood up from your seat and approached San who was sitting on the couch, reading a magazine. He placed the bundle of papers on the coffee table in front of him, straightening his arms up, to wrap around your waist and tug you down to his lap.

Nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, your wrapped your arms around it tiredly. His hand wrapped around your waist and the second one laid on your thigh, keeping you close to him. You let out a few whimpers, wriggling in his lap, to satisfy the growing heat and rub your core against his muscular thighs. „Is there something wrong baby?“

„Can you help me out?“ you said with a quiet almost unhearable voice, a little pout forming on your lips. „Help you out with what, princess?“ you averted your gaze to the hem of your skirt, fingers playing with it. „I've had a naughty dream about you...“

San chuckled at the way your ears turned red at how embarrassed you were because of the request you had. His hand forgot its place on your knee as it moved up, way under your skirt. Tugging your panties to the side, he could feel just how much the wet dream aroused you. His fingers moved up and down your wet slit, purposely coating them with slick and moving them up to your clit.

Rubbing your clit, pressing on it and occasionally changing the intensity of his actions, you couldn't stop the gasps from spilling out from your mouth, you were so engaged by this, that you did not notice San unbuttoning his shorts in the meanwhile, freeing his hardened dick from the tight garments.

You noticed it only when the movement on your swollen bundle of nerves stopped, right before you neared the sweet release, an unsatisfied cry that was cut in your throat leaving your lips. „Shh, baby. Daddy got hard hearing those blissful moans leave your mouth, so it's only right we help each other out. But you can't forget that we aren't alone, so all you gotta do I hope that the pilot can't hear us...“

❁ 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢

High mountains covered in a white blanket of snow were illuminated by the fierce sun rays as they created a scene straight out of a painting. The sound of champagne glasses clicking was heard, as you and Mingi sat in the hot and bubbling water, located on a balcony of the luxurious mountain resort you were in. Only you, your sugar daddy and maybe a few deers out there, but still possibly visible to others, „Do you like it here, princess?“

Nodding at his questions enthusiastically, you sipped off the champagne as your body melted to the feeling of jacuzzi jets massaging your sore muscles, „Yes, it's amazing here, thank you Mingi, for taking me here, I don't even know how to repay you.“

„You don't have to repay me, anything princess, I'm just happy that you like my present, now come here.“ standing up from your 'seat' on the other side of the jacuzzi, goosebumps immediately rose up on your body as the winter breeze attacked your wet skin. Coming over to his seat, you sat back down rushedly as to not catch a cold, the hot water welcoming you, as you found your comfortable spot in Mingi's lap.

His large hands rested on your back, pulling you closer to his chest as they twiddled with the knot that kept the top part of your bikini together. „Mingi, I know we're alone, but you never know when someone's watching...“ you spoke nervously. „Don't think about it, relax into my touch, let the water massage your body.“ Untying the top of your swimwear, he let it fall to the water, the piece of cloth floating on the water surface.

His hands reached for your soft breasts, squeezing them softly as to your hurt you, twirling your hardening nipples between his fingers. Mingi leaned closer to your chest, his plump lips latching onto one of your breasts, sucking on it passionately. Your head was thrown back as you let out low moans, your hands going straight into his locks.

While his face was dipped into your chest, sucking on your soft mounds, your hands travelled down to where the hem of his swimsuit was. „It's only fair I repay you by taking care of you my prince, so now, you should be the one to relax to my touch.“

❁ 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠

„What are you reading?“ Averting your eyes from the flavescent pages of the book in your hands, you looked up at the man who stood in front of you. His skin sunbathed into a caramel tinted tone only added to how attractively his muscular body looked like, abs covered in beads of water as he just finished swimming in the sea, „50 shades of grey. A colleague of mine told me to read, it's kinda vanilla I have to say, nothing compared to what you do to me at nights.“

Smirking at your remark, he laid by your side on the soft cushions of the large beach couchette as soon as he finished drying his body. Keeping himself close to you, he threw a towel over your bodies, covering them completely, „Why are you covering us, Woo? Are you still cold from the water?“

„Let's just say I don't want other people to see that I got horny as fuck seeing my beautiful girl in her bikini and I just can't get my dick down, so try to act like nothing is happening as I stuff you full of my cock.“

Widening your eyes at how straightforward he was being to you in public, your cheeks got heated up as you could feel his fingers tugging your bikini bottoms down to your knees.

You looked around the beach, trying to act like nothing is happening just as he said, but when you locked eye contact with an older couple who were enjoying their time on the private beach and were looking at you awkwardly, you got even more embarrassed, so looking down into the mattress seemed like the best option. Wooyoung did the same with his swimsuit as he did with your, tugging it down to his knees, pulling out his leaking cock.

Without any more protraction, he sank his length into your wet hole. You had to bite on your lips to keep the moans from escaping past your lips. „Fuck, your cunt is taking me so well, you seem to like having a cock balls-deep in you, while we're in the public.“ His arms wrapped around your waist from behind as he pulled your back closer to his chest, his fingers playing with your nipples through the material of your swimsuit as he bottomed himself into you.

„Fuck, I don't think railing you once will be enough to satisfy our needs, should we go to the hotel room after this and recreate some of the book's chapters?“

❁ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨

Sitting bored in the studio, your fingers typing something into your phone, you side-eyed the clock on the wall frequently, as you waited for the end of your partner's song recording. Black headphones on his head as he let out angel-like sounds into the microphone. „Woow, Jongho, good job for today, I think we can finish this up for today.“

Jongho smiled at the producer who sat in his seat in front of the computer screen, coming back from the recording room to where you were. Standing up from your seat on the couch, you went to him, almost jumping at him out of happiness that this boring session was finally over.

„Jongho, can you please keep guard over the studio for about fifteen minutes? I have to go pick up something but I have no idea where I put my keys.“ Looking over to you, to ask whether it was okay, you nodded although you were not very happy about it, and with that Jongho agreed to watch the studio while the producer left.

„How did you like my recording today?“ mischievous smile on his face as he asked you that, knowing very well while he brought you here. „Did you bring me here today on purpose? Who would have thought that the sweet and awkwardly shy Choi Jongho, would record a song with such naughty lyrics? Hmm, tell me, who were you singing about? Who were you imagining fucking, while you were writing those lyrics?“ Taking small steps, you were slowly cornering him, up until he fell on the couch behind him.

Sitting down onto his thick thighs, the material of his jeans coming straight to contact with your core as the skirt you wore covered you two. Leaning closer to him, you attached your lips onto the skin on his neck, nibbling on it softly as to not leave any marks. „We have around ten minutes left, should I give you a preview of what is waiting for you tonight?“

Your cleavage was straight in front of his eyes as you straddled his lap, purposely pressing your breasts against his chest to accentuate it and catch his attention more. Subtly griding against the tent forming in his jeans, your hand caressing his temples innocently. You could feel him shifting underneath you, some incoherent babble stammering out of his lips at your actions. Your hands took hold of his wrists, placing them on your waist,

„Now, do you think you'll be able to cum and get rid of your boner in less than seven minutes, pretty boy?“

❁ tag list : @galaxteez @gyubaby @bobateastay @tinytinyblogs @ateezinmymind @chososchaos @voidednightmares

Hot Topic

Masterlist

Warnings - Swearing

Genre - Fluff

Pairing - Changbin x Interview Reader

Your boss was a bitch and everyone knew this for a fact, being head of a huge magazine company really went to her head. And being her assistant and part time celebrity interviewer put a lot of stress on your shoulders, but it payed well and you still loved your job nonetheless.

But having to run to a coffee shop at 5 in the morning in uncomfortable through the pourning rain, was definitely not a highlight of your job experience. Your teeth clattering and goosebumps rising on your skin, the rain was pouring down hard it was hard to focus on anything in front of you.

"H-hi can I get two small black coffees, one meduim vanilla mocha, and one large hot chocolate." You ordered, wiping off the mascara that ran down your cheeks.

The cashier nodded cautiously, concerned by the way you looked. The elderly couple sitting not to far away from you was sipping their cups of tea as they boared into your souls it seemed. You knew this day was coming, having such a great couple of days and getting a raise... It was bound to have a small dip so your life isn't like Barbie dolls.

"Name?" The chashier questioned, chewing her gum loud and obnoxiously.

"Y/n." You sighed, trying to maintain some level of composure with that annoying chewing.

You tossled back and forth on the pads of your feet, zoning out due to your tired state. You nearly tripped over your own feet when the cashier called your name, holding a tray filled with burning cups of caffeine. You turned around quickly at the vibration of your phone, alerting you that you boss was becoming impatient.

A dark haired man crashed into you, gasping out of concern immediately. All of the drinks spilled onto new and already drenched jacket, and the rest flew onto your face. You left your eyes closed as you held in the scream trying to crawl out of your lips.

"Shit, I am so sorry." He apologised, helping you to your feet.

"It's okay." You whimpered, voice trembling from the overwhelming emotions forming in your mind.

Before he could grab napkins to help you out, you were already walking back to your home. Tears strolling down your cheeks from a mix of frustration and exhaustion, you knew you needed the day even if it meant taking extra hours the next day.

You poured the bubbles into your bathtub as you called your boss to tell them you wouldn't be showing up today, they sounded passive aggressive as they agreed but demanded you to do extra hours tomorrow. Which included interviewing the kpop boy group Stray Kids.

That's when a lightbulb clicked in your head, the man you rushed into was Seo Changbin. You were a fan of Stray Kids and didn't even recognize your bias because you were so stressed out from work.

"Oh my God..." You sighed, sinking into the water with disappointment in yourself.

-The next day-

"Y/n! Can you help this group to to the proper floor? I'm really busy." Your favored and spoiled Co worker suggested, clearly just wanting to get some time off. You agreed nonetheless.

Eight God like men stood next to each other with innocent confusion in their eyes, they didn't complain like other celebrities or acted snappy either. This made it more frustrating when your co worker made her irresponsible actions your problem to solve, they didn't deserve that type of treatment.

"Hi, I'm y/n l/n I will be your interviewer tonight and I just wanted you all to know how hug of a pleasure it is to have you hear. I'm a huge fan." You revealed, adjusting your posture with a pure smile.

They followed you towards the correct location, couches and chairs set up for the interview. The staff were all busy fiddling around with the equipment to make sure everything was fully prepared, which left you to try and entertain the special guests all by yourself. But before you could speak one more word, your boss rushed towards you.

"I am so thankful for you y/n, I just got a call from Elle magazine asking me if I would be able to interview Rihanna in a few hours, so if you don't mind locking up the building for me. Thanks sweetie." She demanded, tossing you the keys as she waltzed away from you.

It was after supper and you've been working non stop since 6am, and now you had to stay in this hell hole for even longer. A staff member ushered most of Stray Kids to different spots of the set.

"Are you the person I ran into yesterday?" Changbin questioned, close behind you.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I ran out so quickly. This job just is a lot of stress and work." You apologized, confusion furrowed hsi brows as to why you were apologizing.

"Don't worry about it, I actually feel bad for how hard these guys seem to be on you. Do you need any help setting up or anything?" He suggested, a softness in his eyes that made your heart do back flips.

You shook your head, knowing your face was probably stuck in a slightly shocked expression. You were proven this when a small smirk was noticeable on his features as he walked past you to get ready for the interview.

The interview went smoothly, not a awkward moment between you and the band. This is due to being a fan and doing your research before agreeing on the interview, unlike other interviewers who have completely made it unwatchable for some viewers.

You nearly stumbled over your words many times but kept composure each time, the stumbling only ever attempted to happen when you looked at Changbin.

Sending you small winks whenever the camera zoomed in to an other member, and watching you soft eyes everytime you spoke. You could feel the heat on the top of your ears from his simple but effective actions.

Felix noticed Changbin's actions towards you and smirked to himself, he slightly warned him whenever the camera would be focusing on him or if he would be in view. Everyone knew how entertainments were like when it came to dating, and that's why it was exciting when an idol didn't seem to care and wanted to live their lives.

"So I have one last question for you guys." You reassured, reading the last card in your hand.

"What is something you want to tell your fans?" You asked, smiling since you considered yourself a fan.

Each member expressed their love and appreciation for their fans, some sending small hearts from their finger tips before the camera panned away from them. You appreciated how humble and easy going they were, especially after dealing with celebrities like the Paul brothers. The worst interview you've ever had would have to be with Justin Timberlake nonetheless.

You stopped listening to Timberlake after the interview and wanted to try a new genre, and that is how you got into kpop. The first band you became a fan of was Exo, but your ultimate group became the loveable dorks called Stray Kids. You saw yourself as just some regular interviewer that wasn't special in any way, and you never thought any celebrity would give any attention.

The most attention you've got in your career was a handshake you made with Itzy's Lia while interviewing them. That's why it surprised you how Changbin seemed interested in you, since there were so many other people who would give everything they had to be with him.

"Did it work?" Changbin questioned, a genuine smile across his features as you looked in his direction.

"Did what work?" You asked, giggling softly at his puppy like expression.

"Your day seemed tough so I wanted to make you laugh, that's why I was winking. I wanted to break the ice." Changbin explained, fiddling with the ends of his shirt.

His reasoning made your heart flutter much more than if he would've just done it to flirt, it seemed genuine and thoughtful rather than desperate and fuck boy like.

"That's actually really sweet. Thank you." You commented, trying not to show him how much it effected you.

He nodded as a welcome, secretly adoring the that crossed your features.

"I better get going. I have a lot of cleaning up to do." You sighed, beginning to step away from the boy of your dreams.

Changbin glanced towards his band before running after you, a prominent shade of red dipped on the tips of his ears and cheeks.

"If I promise not to spill it over you, do you think I could make you a coffee and help you?" He asked, voice meeker and less confident than it was a few minutes ago.

You agreed to his proposal, trying not to squeal. Your crush wanted to spend time with you, and this was the only time you ever wanted to thank your boss.

GX Month Day 7: “Ojama Delta Thunder!!”

That’s right! You know what today is! Today we celebrate The Chazz, the one and only Manjoume Thunder! Give sparky boi a hug!

WE STAN SUPPORTIVE WORKPLACES IN THIS HOUSE. Also, tiny bit of Egoshipping at the end.

This monster is just over nine pages. What am I doing with my life?

“So you wanted to talk Pro stuff?”

It takes Chazz’s brain an extra minute to process the words, still reeling from the bombshell Jaden decided to drop on them tonight. Then he latches onto the chance to think about literally anything other than the fact that Jaden literally fused himself with the monster that tried to kill him! How stupid do you get?! “Yes, please, I’m desperate.”

“Alright, no need to grovel.” Aster holds a hand out to preemptively stop any further begging that admittedly would have happened. “Like I said, I’d be glad for the company.”

It’s still surreal to watch Aster be both honest and vulnerable even though Chazz has seen it a few times now thanks to these group talks Jim started. Chazz has actually seen most of his friends break down in tears at this point. This year has been a fucking trip. “Okay, what’s the catch?”

“You’ll be my assistant.”

“Sorry, what?” Chazz must not have heard that right.

“You’ll have the chance to see how the Pros work up close and personal, and I get an extra pair of hands on deck.” Aster shrug. “Win-win.”

That is absolutely not a win-win! “I’m not gonna be your lackey!”

Aster levels him a look that would be insulting enough even without the younger boy’s obvious lack of fear in the face of Chazz’s anger. “So you don’t want my help then.”

Oh this son of a- Deep breath in. Hold it. Exhale. Don’t scream bloody murder at the literal one person related to the Pro Dueling business giving Chazz the time of day. “Fine. What exactly am I expected to do?”

*

“You’ll be managing Aster’s schedule,” the woman says as she escorts Chazz up the elevator because Aster couldn’t be bothered to meet Chazz himself. Esmerelda, she introduced herself as, an employee of the Senrigan Group assigned to look after Aster. Purple curls spill over her shoulder and she’d be pretty if her smile wasn’t so...unnerving. Sharp green eyes bore down at him and Chazz wants to fidget in this stupid, uncomfortable suit. “Take this.” Esmerelda holds out a simple flip phone and Chazz accepts it with minimal confusion. “It’s a company phone and will be your primary method of communication.”

This gig sounds simple enough at least.

At the top floor of the company-owned skyscraper, the doors open to reveal a spacious and luxurious pad. Reminds him of home, honestly, and Chazz has to swallow down the confusing mix of emotions that brings. “I’ll be living here? Not bad.”

“Certainly not.” Esmeralda chuckles and gives Chazz a smile that - in one word - he would describe as plastic. Leading him through the entryway-living room space, she opens a door to a room that looks like a typical office space.

“That’s a lot of phones.” He stares incredulously at the appliances that line the desks.

“Of course,” Esmerelda says and Chazz finds it more than a little unnerving that she doesn’t deem it necessary to address why there are so many phones in this room. “This is your desk.” She taps a spot on the table top with an immaculate nail. “Make sure you arrive before seven.” Chazz nods and the woman leads him back out of the room to a set of narrow double doors that open onto a balcony. “You will be sleeping there.” She points down at a comparatively tiny, rustic looking building squeezed between the back of the skyscraper and the road. Is that a warehouse?

*

It’s a warehouse. There’s a couch and table on the landing near the door and a single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. The power is out and a cloud of dust rises from the couch when Chazz sets his briefcase on the cushions. Sadly, this isn’t much worse than the Slifer Dorms. He’ll make it work.

*

“You put him where?” Aster looks up over his cup of chamomile tea, something Sartorius recommended after noticing his trouble sleeping and, like most of Sartorius’ suggestions, works fairly well. Setting the cup down, he presses his finger tips to his temple and doesn’t wait for an answer. “Esmerelda, you are evil.”

“With all due respect, sir, this boy is a Manjoume.” Esmerelda frowns, posture stiff where she sits on the other end of the couch and brows furrowed in an expression that speaks exactly how she feels about this situation. “The Manjoume Group is our biggest rival. He could be here to steal company secrets.”

“I highly doubt that,” Aster mumbles and picks his tea up again.

“To my knowledge, Chazz has an estranged relationship with his family,” Sartorius says from the armchair across the table, pencil tapping lightly against the clipboard on his lap. That paper is either Aster’s schedule or a crossword; Aster doesn’t care enough to squint. “Besides, he is a personal friend.”

Aster scoffs. “Chazz and I are not friends.”

“Friendly acquaintances then.”

“Acquaintances,” Aster corrects. “We’re just acquaintances.”

“Of course,” Sartorius agrees in that voice that implies he knows something he isn’t willing to share yet. Aster narrows his eyes at him over the cup but doesn’t press the issue. He’ll find out soon enough; Sartorius isn't that good at keeping secrets.

“Exactly,” Esmerelda presses. “Why are you sticking your neck out for him?”

Sighing, Aster sets his cup down to massage his temple once more. He knows Esmerelda means well, but she’s been watching him like a hawk even since he got back from the other dimension and Aster misses that small bit of freedom. “I don’t know. Maybe because I felt bad for him? Maybe because I wanted someone to talk about-” He lets the sentence hang and shelves the bulk of his bitterness and frustration before continuing; he doesn’t need to take it out on them. “-who actually understands.”

Esmerelda presses her lips. Sartorius stares at him with those damnably soulful eyes. Even if he could have predicted that whole fiasco, he certainly wouldn’t have been able to stop it. Aster doubts nothing short of the sun imploding could have stopped Jaden from chasing Jesse across dimensions; Aster had just been the idiot who got too close.

“It’s late.” Aster exhales wearily. “You should go home.”

Nodding, Esmerelda stands and bids him a good night. Only after the elevator has closed behind her does Aster allow himself to slump against the couch. Sartorius sets the clipboard on the table - it’s a crossword - and holds out his hand. “Shall we retire?”

“Yeah.”

It’s easy to be vulnerable around Sartorius, probably because of how long they’ve known each other, and Sartorius is still the only person Aster can completely relax around. He lets Sartorius pull him up off the couch and they head down the hallway to the bedrooms at the back of the suite.

“I’m in the next room if you need me,” Sartorius promises with his usual nightly greeting, and Aster has the distinct feeling he’ll be taking him up on that later. Today’s been stressful.

*

Chazz arrives at the office room at 6:55 sharp and freezes at the sight of the person already sitting there. “Good morning, Chazz,” Sartorius greets like they’re old buddies or something and not the guy who brainwashed him less than a year ago. “I trust Esmerelda already briefed you on the daily necessities.”

“No?” Chazz croaks. He’s going to be working with Sartorius? What happened to Esmerelda?

Sartorius’ expression falls into one of surprise and concern, but one of the multiple phones rings before he can respond and his attention immediately swerves. “Good morning, this is Sartorius speaking,” the man says with an uncanny level of grace and authority. Whatever is said on the other end of the line prompts him to pull up some kind of spreadsheet on the computer in front of him. Another phone rings as the conversation continues and Sartorius wordlessly directs Chazz to answer it with his hand.

“This is Weekly Duelist,” a voice chirps in his ear, a bit loud and on the edge of demanding. “Next week, could we have Aster...”

A third phone rings. Sartorius pushes a pen and paper at Chazz as he sets the first phone down and reaches for the next. “Write it down.” He’s on the next call before Chazz can ask for elaboration.

And so the morning goes. Chazz scribbles down the names of different dueling events and talk shows and gods-know-what-else that want Aster’s attention while Sartorius alternates between his own conversations and calling back the interested parties on Chazz’s list to fit them onto the spreadsheet.

Esmerelda shows up during a lull in phone calls as Sartorius walks Chazz through using the digital schedule, and Chazz’s brain is too fried from the last 2 hours of his life - has it only been 2 hours?? - to even care about the guy being in his personal space. “The first few hours of the morning are always the busiest. If you can’t confirm at the time of the call, write down the request and call back later. You must also always consider location and travel time- Oh.” Sartorius looks up abruptly. “Excuse us a moment.”

Standing, Sartorius pulls Esmerelda back out the room with him, and Chazz takes the opportunity to just sit and do nothing. A few names remain on the callback list. Should he get started on that or wait for Sartorius to return?

“You sent him in here with no instruction.” The conversation floats in from beyond the door.

“I told him to arrive before seven.”

“Before seven does not imply ‘in time to receive instruction’, Esmeralda. If you weren’t going to show him anything last night, he should have been here at least half an hour before hand.”

So that woman set him up for failure? Whatever, nothing Chazz isn’t used to. Reaching for the phone, he calls back the next event on his list. He’s got two more events scheduled before Sartorius and Esmerelda return and sits back in the chair smugly as he ends the call. Sartorius’ eyebrows rise as he glances over the schedule on his own screen.

“Well done! I’m glad to see you taking initiative.” The praise sends an odd thrill through Chazz like a half forgotten memory and he decides not to dwell on it. Sartorius turns back to Esmerelda with an almost smug grin. “And you worried.”

The woman presses her red lips together with a dismissive hum; Chazz prefers it to the plastic smile.

A tea and snack break later, Chazz finds himself fetching Aster’s clothing and duel disk - why the hell does someone need that many of the exact same thing?! - for a photo shoot, then hauling books from a truck to the table of a signing event - he didn’t know Aster wrote a book about duel philosophy. Admittedly, he’s curious - all while occasionally answering phone calls and penning new events onto his paper copy of the schedule.

The sun has set by the time he finds himself slumping back in his desk chair, Aster’s schedule neat and tidy on the spreadsheet before him. The phones have finally gone silent.

“Good work today.” Sartorius enters with a tray of soup and breadsticks and sets it on the desk adjacent to Chazz.

Chazz blinks at it. “You cook?”

Sartorius smiles. “Yes. Mizuchi and I lived alone for most of our lives, so we had to learn how to take care of ourselves.”

“Oh.” Chazz doesn’t know what to say to that so he doesn’t say anything as he reaches for the soup and spoons some of it into his mouth. It’s surprisingly good, mild, not too salty like most of the canned stuff.

“There’s an extra room up here for you,” Sartorius says and Chazz looks up sharply.

“I don’t have to stay in the warehouse?”

“Goodness, no.” Shaking his head, Sartorius presses his lips and continues at length, “I suppose Esmerelda wanted to test your resolve.” Chazz snorts. “I assure you, Aster and I did not approve.”

Didn’t stop them from letting him sleep there last night. Chazz can’t even muster the energy to glare at the man, only managing what must be a fish eyed stare. He dips the breadstick in the soup before taking a bit; oo, now that’s a good combination of flavors.

“How was your first day?” It’s still unnerving how calm and even Sartorius speaks even without the malicious undertones from the Light of Destruction.

“Exhausting,” Chazz answers without hesitation.

Sartorius chuckles. “I’ve put on some tea if you’d like to join us.”

Chazz considers this and shakes his head. “Nah, I’m gonna go get my stuff.” Still too weird, and honestly he wants nothing more than to crash in a real bed and stop existing for a few hours.

Nodding, Sartorius stands. “The room is at the far end of the hall. Mine is the second on the left if you need anything.”

Chazz really shouldn’t be surprised these two live together.

*

The following week is more of the same. Chazz follows Aster to all manner of events from meet-and-greets to fancy parties, always doing the heavy lifting and always answering the phone. During the precious few moments he has to breathe, Sartorius talks his ear off. The man is a surprisingly witty conversation partner and the complete opposite of Chazz’s sparse memories from the Society of Light.

“Of course I’m different.” Sartorius laughs good naturedly as Chazz curses his slip of the tongue. “That wasn’t really me, Chazz.”

No, Chazz supposes it wasn’t.

“He’s so good with people,” he mumbles, leaning on the balcony railing where they watch Aster mingle in the party below.

“Of course.” Sartorius sounds fond. “That’s what it takes to succeed. I believe you can learn a lot from watching him.”

Yeah, if Chazz can manage to find the time between everything else.

*

“You want me to what?”

“Organize the cards in here,” Aster repeats and Chazz baulks at the sheer number of stacks that line the shelves. “The power’s back on so that won’t be a problem. No specific deadline, just work on it when you have spare time.”

“What spare time?!”

Aster only raises his eyebrows with that unimpressed expression he’s so fond of giving, and Chazz clenches his teeth.

“Can I least get some gloves and a mask and a duster?” It’s filthy in here and Chazz doesn’t fancy breathing in whatever dust cloud he’s found to kick up.

“There should be cleaning supplies in the closet.” Aster waves a hand vaguely before turning to take his leave. “Good luck.”

*

A number of people make house calls with Aster; Chazz doesn’t pay much attention to them because he’s usually neck deep in phone calls and keeping Aster’s schedule straight - he does not need another double booking fiasco, thank god Sartorius had the charm to sort it out peacefully. One guy in particular, however, Chazz does get used to seeing; Mike something-or-other, a TV producer hell bent on getting Aster in on his comedy acts. Aster throws him out more than once.

“Why don’t you just cut ties with him?” Chazz asks after another such altercation. “You clearly don’t like him.”

“He’s good at what he does.” Aster frowns, annoyed if not outright angered. So are Slade and Jagger and that didn’t stop Chazz from telling them to fly a kite. Picking up his cup, Aster winces as his hand shakes and quickly sets the cup down before the tea can spill. Chazz zeros in on the movement.

“Hand,” he says, scooting over to sit by Aster on the couch without a second thought.

“What?”

Chazz doesn’t wait as he takes Aster’s hand and smooths out the joints between his own fingers before pressing gently and rubbing circles with his thumbs.

“You know massage??”

“Yeah.” Chazz still doesn’t get why everyone makes a big deal of it. This is something he’s always been able to do; used to find it weird that other people couldn’t because it felt so easy to him. A natural skill or whatever. “Jesus fuck,” the English expletive slips past his lips as he feels the knots and strained muscles in Aster’s hand. “I’m cancelling meet-and-greets and signing events for a while.”

“Excuse me?”

“So your hand can heal,” Chazz cuts Aster off before the other can work himself into righteous indignation. “You can’t duel without your draw hand. Two weeks of minimal activity and you should be fine. But we should tape this. Do you have a first aid-”

A white kit with a red cross hovers in the peripheral of Chazz’s vision. He stares dumbly up at Sartorius as Aster huffs with amusement. Cautiously, Chazz takes it. “Can you still see the future or something?”

“Predict,” Sartorius corrects as he takes his usual seat in the arm chair. “And not all predictions are accurate.”

“Riiiight.” Just gonna ignore that piece of information for now then. Chazz pulls the ace wrap out of the kit and turns back to Aster’s hand. “Tell me if it’s too tight.”

Maybe he’s imagining it, but there might be a sliver more respect in Aster’s eyes when Chazz finishes wrapping his hand and a tiny, genuine smile on his face.

*

This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening!

Aster’s going to lose his entire career just because one lousy card went missing?!

Chazz paces back and forth across the warehouse floor, gnawing on his fingernails. The cards have all been organized - monster, trap, spell, then by type, archetype, and alphabetical. Chazz could point exactly to which box a single card is in, but the one card apparently more important that Aster’s fucking career disappears from right under his nose!

They even know who took it! They have photos from the security camera! But they can’t prove shit because the bastard was smart enough to keep his face covered and away from the camera! If they can’t prove it, they can’t get the card back! And then Aster-

“Boss, breathe!” Ojama Yellow squeals. “I think you're having an angry attack!”

“Anxiety attack!” Chazz screams, suddenly aware of just how rapid and shallow his breath has gotten. Geez, he sounds like Jaden after-

JADEN!

Chazz dives for his school-issued PDA, yanks up the contacts, and rapidly taps his foot against the floor as he waits for the other end of the line to pick up. He dials twice before getting an answer.

“What?”

“Jaden, I need your help!”

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” The other boy sounds groggy and disheveled.

No, Chazz has absolutely no idea what time it is in Japan, he is on the side of the globe and that’s not important right now! “Listen! I need you and your freaky powers for help with something!”

Silence. The line clicks dead.

“DID YOU JUST HANG UP ON ME?” Chazz screams into the empty warehouse. It takes three more tries to get Jaden back on the line.

“And why should I help you?”

“SERIOUSLY? Wait.” Something about Jaden’s voice sounds off. The cadence? “Yubel? This is Yubel isn’t it? Put Jaden on the line! I don’t want you!”

“Jaden is asleep as I was before you so rudely interrupted me and will be returning to now,” Yubel snips.

“WAIT!” Chazz screeches before she can hang up again. He doesn’t need to waste any more time on callbacks. “Never mind! I just need help! Aster needs help!”

The silence on the other end stretches long enough that Chazz fears the monster already hung up. “I’m listening.”

*

Chazz doesn’t even question it when Jaden tumbles out of the shadows onto the warehouse floor, grumbling about fudged landings and never being at locations before, just snaps at him to hide the wings and drags him up to Aster’s apartment. “I brought help!” he announces as they barge in.

Aster’s head snaps up and Chazz watches the scathing remark die on his tongue as his eyes fall on Jaden. “Oh. That’s an idea.”

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” Jaden walks fearlessly up to the trio. “Cuz I got the basics from Yubel, but details would be nice.”

“Yubel?” Esmerelda asks with a weary glance between Jaden and Chazz.

Jaden blanks at her then turns away dismissively. “Not important.”

Aster tosses the security photos onto the table between them. “This is the guy who took the card. Mike, a TV producer who’s been trying to get me to go along with his comedy gimmick for weeks now. We know it’s him but these photos won’t hold up in court.”

Picking the photos up, Jaden holds his chin thoughtfully. “So you just need me to get this card back?”

“And maybe some proof that this guy stole it,” Chazz adds quickly, trying not to cringe as Aster’s eyes flicker over to him, but the pro silently nods his agreement.

“Alright. I’ll see what I can do.” Setting the photos back on the table, Jaden glances at the elevator, makes a face, and walks straight for the balcony. They all watch in confused silence until Jaden leaps off the balcony railing.

Esmerelda screams. “Is he insane?!”

Even Chazz charges toward the balcony, leaning over the edge in terror, only to find Jaden standing calmly on the sidewalk below like he didn’t just jump off the top floor of a fucking skyscraper!

“How?!” Esmerelda gapes, gripping the railing with white knuckles.

“I’m not even gonna question it.” Aster waves a hand as he returns indoors. Sartorius chuckles quietly, the only person who hadn’t made a mad dash after the reckless idiot.

Chazz sinks to the balcony floor, waiting for his heart to finally get the memo that they don’t need to be freaking out anymore. Gods above help them all...

*

Jaden gets the card back and manages to publicly humiliate Mike in the process. Win-win.

At the end of Chazz’s ‘employment’, Aster challenges him to an official PR duel. It’s the first time Chazz has gotten to seriously break out his deck in a while and he fears he’ll be rusty, but the plays come to him easier than they ever had. Oh, he gets it now. When he organized all the cards in the warehouse, he read each one’s effect; he thought about how to play them and combo them with each other. Aster’s deck is easy to read and Chazz pulls off a spectacular win.

Amidst the cheers, Aster holds out his hand. “Nice work. Guess you did learn a thing or two.”

Riding the adrenaline high, Chazz pulls him straight into a hug. Aster grunts, going rigid before awkwardly patting his back.

“Maybe not in front of the cameras.”

Chazz immediately backpedals. “Right! Sorry!” There’s an odd expression in Aster’s eyes as they shake hands properly this time.

*

“Sartorius. I have another problem.”

Sartorius sniggers as Aster predictably sinks into the seat next to him, flipping over the cards in his game of solitaire. “Oh, I don’t think this one is a problem,” he says with confidence, this morning’s card reading still fresh in his mind. “You should ask him out.”

It takes a second. “SARTORIUS!” Aster pushes away from the table, looking positively scandalized. “I don’t have time for a social life let alone a romantic one!”

Humming, Sartorius places a card on its designated stack. “I’m sure you can make the time. After all, you’ve been making time to visit Duel Academy quite frequently of late.”

“For my mental health!” Aster goes on the defensive, but there’s no denying the hint of flush on his cheeks. “And that's not the point! I don’t care if you read it in cards, I’m not just randomly asking him out!”

Sadly, Sartorius knows half of Aster’s reluctance to the idea is because the media would have a field day with any celebrity’s love life, let alone one with...less conventional preferences. That will not, however, prevent Sartorius from teasing his best friend. “How would you prefer to ask him out then?”

With a frustrated whine, Aster glares at Sartorius. “Not at all.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Shut up.”

Green-Eyed Monster

Pairing: Im Jaebeom x Reader

Genre: smut

Word Count:  4.8 k

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LIST

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POV Jaebeom

She will most likely kill me, Jaebeom thought as he headed for the practice room. He was almost two hours late due to the fact that he was busy recording the demo for the new album. He called you several times, but you didn't answer. It seems he will have to beg on his knees for your forgiveness. Perhaps you will agree if he makes amends in the bedrooms, he smiled at the thought. A wave of excitement went through him, from the colorful pictures of what he wanted to do with you. Calmly Jaebeom, he muttered under his breath, smiling broadly.

He opened the door to the hall and froze on the threshold, unable to cross it. You were lying on the floor next to Jackson. Your head was on his shoulder and your hand was on his stomach. It seemed that something inside him snapped. Every time he found you in Jackson's arms or sleeping in his lap, everything inside him boiled with jealousy. But today was the last straw. Seeing you asleep hugging him made everything inside him burn with rage. He closed the door and turned on his heels and headed back to his studio.

Going back to the studio, he hit the chair with his foot, "Fuck!" he growled, unable to calm down. He knew how you treated to him, and the fact that rather there is an excuse for what he saw. But jealousy consumed him completely, and there was no room for any excuse!

Pov You

You smiled when you smelled Jaebeom. Your hand was on his stomach, and despite the fact that the smell was familiar, the sensations were completely wrong... You opened your eyes and pulled back when you saw that you were lying on Jackson's shoulder. He opened his eyes and smiled sleepily at you "Woke up?"

"What are you doing here?" You asked in disbelief

“I came to see how your practice was going, but I saw that you were sleeping on the floor. So I decided that my shoulder is much more comfortable than floor. But I didn't even notice how fell asleep."

"Damn it!" you swore when you looked at the clock on the wall. You quickly took your phone out of your bag and saw a few missed ones from Jaebeom. Probably he called to say that he would stay in the studio. "See you," you said, quickly getting up from the floor. You grabbed your bag and ran to the exit. You went to his studio, but the thought that most likely he hadn't eaten yet made you stop and go downstairs. Taking drinks and food, you went to his studio.

"Hi darling!" you said happily. You put the bag on the table and went to hug him.

He shoved your hand away, turning to the display "I'm busy, did you want something?" he asked in a cold tone.

“You didn't come to me, and I decided that you were busy in the studio, so I came to you myself. I brought you a snack, I don't think you had lunch today" you tried to sound calm, most likely he was annoyed by the stress of the new album. "I missed you"

"I came, but you were busy" he practically spat out the last word in disgust, forcing everything inside you to turn into ice. "You probably didn't miss me that much while you slept hugging Jackson."

“Jaebeom, I don’t… this is not what you thought. I thought it was you" you just couldn't believe that he was jealous of you for Jackson.

"Yes, really, we're fucking twins with Jackson!" he snorted displeased

“He came when I was already asleep. And due to the fact that you use the same perfume, I thought in a dream that it was you who came”

“You can go home or wherever you want. I have no time for your stupid excuses, I'm too busy for this shit!" he said, turning in your direction, his gaze was merciless "You can take that too" he pointed to the bag you brought before turning back again. "Give it to Jackson, he must be very hungry after playing the role of your pillow" every word was felt like a searing slap in the face. You stood and looked at him with your mouth open. This time, his jealousy crossed all boundaries. You swallowed, clearing the lump in your throat caused by the tears running down your cheeks.

"If that's what you want, then ..."

"Yes, that's exactly what I want!" He interrupted you without even letting you finish.

"Okay" you practically whispered, unable to cope with the pain inside you. You left his studio, closing the door behind you. You slowly walked down the hallway, everything inside you trembled. This was the first time you saw Jaebeom like that. You sometimes had quarrels, but they all stopped within 5 minutes, ending with hugs. Going down to the parking lot, you got into the car giving vent to tears. You headed towards the house, not wanting someone to see you now. You practically did not see the road, because of tears that did not stop flowing down your cheeks.

Going home, you took a sleeping pill from the bedside table and drank a few pills. Now you didn't want to feel all this pain and emptiness inside you. You went to bed and hoped that you could fall asleep as soon as possible. You closed your eyes falling into the darkness.

"Get out!" Jaebeom's scream made you sit up abruptly in bed. A dream, it was a dream. Although he didn’t say that word, his last phrase meant just that. You sighed when you saw it was the middle of the night. What? Have you slept for almost 9 hours? Why did you think that you closed your eyes 5 minutes ago ... you took a deep breath and got out of bed, trudged into the bathroom. You washed up and changed into your pajamas. It looks like there was alcohol somewhere in this house, you muttered as you left the bathroom. You turned on the dim kitchen light and stopped. 

Jaebeom was sitting on the living room floor with his back to the sofa. In his hands was a glass of amber liquid. You were right, there is alcohol in your house. You went to the coffee table and took a bottle of whiskey, pouring it into your glass.. You went back to the kitchen and sat at the kitchen table, looking at the wall, it was too painful for you to look at Jaebeom.

“I was wrong,” Jaebeom said breaking the silence.

You turned your head the other way as tears ran down your cheeks.

"Please forgive me!"

"What's the point? It doesn't matter how many times I tell you that I  love only you. It doesn't matter how many times I tell you that the guys I talk to are just a friends and you shouldn't be jealous because I don't see anyone in them but a good friends. No matter how many times I say, I will prove to you that my heart belongs only to you. It's all doesn't matter if you don't trust me. What is the point of continuing all this if you only believe in what you yourself want to believe" You got up leaving your glass of whiskey untouched on the table

"____, ..."

"Enough... You hurt me enough for today to continue this conversation. Let's talk another time" you took your phone and car keys and left the apartment. You hoped that the further you go now from him, the less your heart will ache. You just drove through the empty city, trying not to think about anything. I came to my senses when there was only darkness around you. You continued to drive along a dark road, not knowing where you were at all. You turned on the GPS and gasped. Seosan - and how did you manage to be here. How many hours did you drive without stopping, you looked around in surprise when the city lights finally began to appear.

You parked at the nearest good hotel and went inside. Trying not to pay attention to how they looked at you at the reception desk, you quickly paid for the room and went to the elevator. All this time, your phone never stopped ringing. The number of missed calls from Jaebeom reached a hundred. You didn’t even know that he could call you so much, you snorted as you disconnected the phone. Turning to the mirror, you laughed for the first time that day. Your hair was disheveled, mascara flowed from tears, and you refused to comment your short blue pajamas with little yellow ducklings at all. Your appearance clearly did not correspond to the level of the hotel, you were glad that you were allowed in at all. Although this is probably due to the car in which you arrived. No wonder they looked at you like that while you were filling out the paperwork. Spending a couple of days here would be a good idea, you whispered watching the sunrise through the huge window as you entered your room.

 POV Jaebeom

He was sitting on the floor next to a nearly empty bottle. What a jerk you are, Jaebeom, he muttered, throwing his head back onto the couch. How can he fix it? And will you allow him to fix something at all? He was ready to kill himself for the cruel words that he said to you. But at that moment he could not stop splashing out on you all those emotions that raged inside him. The problem was not even you, you were not the person to whom he wanted to express all this. He knew you had nothing to do with Jackson. But the problem was Jackson, who tried to hide his feelings for you in "friendship." He guessed that Jackson fell in love with you as soon as he saw, and Jackson's every look at you, only confirmed this guess.

You never gave rise to jealousy, although he didn't always like the fact that he almost always found you in the arms of one of the members. But he never felt jealous of others. Even if today he saw you sleeping on Mark or BamBam, with whom you spent almost all your free time, he would just come up and lie down next to you, throwing his leg over you to listen to your sweet grumbling. He's lucky he didn't meet Jackson after a fight with you.

He tried to call you again, but your phone was still disconnected. Where are you? He could barely reach the bedroom, staggering violently. He hugged the blanket that smelled of you, falling asleep. Shut up, he practically yelled at the phone when someone called him.

"Where are you?" asked Mark when he picked up the phone

“At _____'s home” he muttered barely audibly

“Um… are you okay? What's with the voice? " asked Mark and he heard the woried in his voice

"Hangover"

"Oh, that's it ... yesterday with ______, you had a party, but we were not invited!" laughed Mark. Everything inside him clenched in pain as all the emotions that had been muted by the alcohol hit him with renewed vigor. "Are you crying?" asked Mark in surprise

"I fucked up, hyung ... seriously fucked up!" tears choked him

“I'll be soon” Mark hung up and Jaebeom closed his eyes again

He didn't even notice how quickly the time passed when the doorbell rang. He barely got out of bed and trudged off to open the door.

“You look shitty,” Mark said when he saw him.

“And hello to you.” Jaebeom headed toward the kitchen. He sat down at the table, resting his head in his palms.

"Where is ______?" asked Mark, putting hangover soup on the table

“She's gone. Why am I such an idiot? " he lifted his head to meet Mark's gaze.

"What the fuck happened between the two of you?" asked Mark, sitting down at the table

“It seems we broke up because of me” he lowered his head to the table as tears filled his eyes

"WHAT?! How is this possible? Don't fucking tell me you're jealous of her for Jackson? ”Mark asked and Jaebeom looked up at him in shock.

"Have you spoken to ____?"

“No, but I saw that she slept in the gym with Jackson yesterday. So is that the reason? Seriously?"

"I know!" he raised his voice as he stood up from his chair. “I said so many cruel words to her. I understood that she was not the reason for my anger, but I could not stop myself” he shook his head, remembering your barely audible voice due to tears

"Gosh, what a fucking fuck!" groaned Mark. “Why are you even jealous of her, knowing how much she loves you. She looks at you as if only you exist in this world! You've never been jealous of her for us, so why is Jackson an exception? "

"You know why!" Jaebeom looked angrily at Mark, banged his fist hard on the table

"You know as well as I do that he would never ..."

“And yet he does!” he interrupted Mark. "Every time he does something like that, covering it all up with friendship"

“If I had come earlier, ______ would have slept on me. Would you react the same way? "

"You  know yourself that this means not the same to you as it does to Jackson!" he practically yelled at Mark.

“Even if you're so angry now, remembering this, I’m afraid to imagine what you said yesterday.” Mark looked at him furiously. “Whatever she does, you deserve it!”

“I know it without you.” His jaw tightened. “How can I get her back? _______ took her phone and car keys and just left."

"I'm sorry, but I don't think you deserve to have her come back to you."

"I know..." he answered barely audibly. He knew without Mark that he did not deserve your forgiveness. But what else can he do? He's not ready to just give up and let you go. "But I won't survive without her..." his voice trembled from the tears he tried to hold back

"Moron," Mark growled as he stood up. Mark walked over to the coffee table and picked up your laptop, then returned to the table in the kitchen. He opened the laptop, carefully examining something on the screen. “She clearly doesn't want to see you,” Mark muttered, and taking a notebook and pen, he quickly wrote something down. Tearing off the sheet, Mark handed it to him “This is the last time her phone was on the network. I'm sure this is the address of the hotel. If you hurt her even more, I will kill you myself! " Mark got up and walked towards the exit, leaving him alone.

He looked at the note and his eyes widened - Seosan ?! You ran far away from him ... He squeezed the note in his hands and got up and walked into the room. He picked up the phone and dialed your number again... still no connection. He fell onto the bed, covering his face with his hands. It wonder how you will react if he comes? It would be better if you yelled at him and were angry. Most of all he was afraid now to see indifference in your eyes. He got out of bed and went to the exit. He stopped and looked at your shoes. He went back to the bedroom, taking out your bag, he folded underwear, jeans and a shirt. He understood that it is unlikely that you still walk in your pajamas that are too open, but he wanted to have at least some excuse for his arrival. He lifted your shoes and put them in a bag and left the apartment. He went down to the parking lot, it's good that he arrived by car. Putting the bag on the passenger seat, he quickly started the car and drove to the address that he asked in the GPS. The road took a long time. The further he went, the more worried about you, realizing that you were drove along the night road. He breathed a sigh of relief when he drove up to the hotel and saw your car in the parking lot. Choosing a place farther away, he got out of the car, taking the bag with your clothes. He walked over to your car and smiled when he saw a parking ticket with your room number. He quickly checked in by taking a room opposite yours. He went up to the floor, knocking on your door, he was greeted by silence. He left the bag in his room and went down to the restaurant. He hoped you were there, but unfortunately you weren't there. He sat down at the bar, from where he could see the entrance through the large windows.

Several hours passed and it began to get dark outside, but you never showed up. He got up and staggered towards the elevator. Having risen to his floor, he sat down next to your door, so he will definitely not skip you.

"Jaebeom ..." he heard your voice and looked up.

"Hi" he smiled broadly at you

"How did you get here?"

"You are so beautiful," he leaned his cheek on his knee, examining you. He chuckled, he couldn't think of anything but your beauty.

"Jaebeom, what are you doing here?" you sighed

"I brought you clothes"

“I thought that the turned off phone said about my unwillingness to talk to you,” you walked past him, approaching your door. He grabbed your wrist, stopping you. Clutching your wrist, he rose to his feet. Everything inside him was on fire, he held out with the last of his strength. He headed towards his door, dragging you after him. You wrenched your hand away and turned back to your door. He walked up to you and hugged you on your shoulders, again went to his door. You pushed him away "Enough" you turned your back on him. He grabbed you by the shirt and pulled you back into the room. "What the fuck are you doing!" you forcefully threw back his hand when you found yourself in the narrow corridor of his room. 

He leaned against the wall, his legs practically did not support him. Tears choked him without giving him the opportunity to say anything. He put his hands on his knees as tears streamed down his cheeks. He took a deep breath, regaining his composure. He grabbed your hand again and walked on. He lifted the bag off the floor and shoved it into your hand.

The bag fell to the floor as you pulled the hand out of his grip again. “I have clothes,” you growled as you took a step back from him.

"Very beautiful. Have you bought it? " he smiled broadly, he could not control his emotions. Laughter, tears, hysterics, angry, sad all mixed up inside him.

"Jackson brought it to me" you practically spit those words out. Your words made everything inside him fill with pure fury. He grabbed you by the arm and threw you violently onto the bed when he completely lost control. You got out of bed shoving him in the chest when he tried to stop you by the shoulders. "What's wrong with you?!" you yelled at him. He tried to hug you, but you kept pushing him out "Stop this show"

He squeezed your hands tightly and took a few steps, pressing you to the bed. "Jaebeom!" you growled when he squeezed you tightly, immobilizing you. Tears burst from him. Everything was so confused in his head. He did not understand what he was doing. “Sorry, I shouldn't have said these cruel words to you…” He couldn't stop. He cried so hard that your shirt got wet from his tears. You lay motionless and did not even try to escape. “Sorry,” he said barely audibly, continuing to cry heavily. “We can start all over again, huh? Let's just start all over again.” He couldn't breathe, all the pain he had caused you fell upon him.

"What's happened with you?"

"Shhhh" he covered your mouth with his hand. He took you by the collar, squeezing it tightly. "Why?" he looked at you angrily, "Why did you say that?" the anger at what you said about Jackson is back.

"Are you kidding me, Jaebeom !?" for some reason he felt funny from your look, although his laughter was more like a hysteria. You pushed him hard, forcing him to get out of bed, backing away. He sat down on the bed bench opposite the bed.

His laughter mingled with tears. He took a deep breath to calm. He lifted his head to meet your ferocious gaze. For some reason, your anger in your eyes soothed him. He sighed, shaking his head. "Where are you going?" he asked when you got out of bed and picked up the bag from the floor.

“Thanks for the clothes,” you hissed through clenched teeth.

He got up and taking you by the hand led you to the bed bench where he was sitting. He sat you down, taking the bag out of your hands, throwing it forcefully across the room. He sat down next to you, running his hand over his face. He turned to face you, but you sat motionless, staring at the wall in front of you. He approached you, taking your hand. "Do you want to break up with me?" he leaned forward, wanting to kiss you. You strayed away from him, which caused him to practically lie on top of you in order to be able to leave a kiss on your neck. Your head dangled in the air, giving you space to stray from his kiss. He squeezed your hair, giving you no more chance to tilt your head back, and leaved a kiss on your lips. You tried to push your head away from his kiss by pushing him away with your hands.

"You don't trust me, why should we be together?" you asked and he covered your mouth with his hand. He shook his head, moving you completely onto the bed bench.

"No ... it isn't ..." He rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as tears filled his eyes again. “I trust you, it's just that Jackson is in love with you. And I can't stop getting mad at him when he touches you.” His voice was no louder than a whisper. “Love for you turns me into a pathetic madman. Please... forgive me.” He left gentle kisses on your face. He removed his hand and kissed you.

"You moron!" you said, begin crying. Your tears broke his heart to pieces. "What a moron you are!" you hit him in the shoulder

"Forgive me. Please, sweetheart, forgive me.” He hugged you tightly. He groaned in relief when you hugged him back. “Forgive me...” he kept whispering in your ear, over and over. "I love you so much! Forgive me!" he kissed you. The gentle kisses became more seductive each time. A wave of desire swept over him as yours tongues entwined. All the emotions that were inside burst out. His fingers dug into your body, wanting more. He moaned when you squeezed his ass with your hand and forced him to rub against your crotch. Your actions each time aroused him to the limit. He ripped your shirt open, causing the buttons to fly across the floor around you. He got off the bed bench with you in his arms, heading for the bed. Taking off your shirt, he threw it on the floor before putting you on the bed. He took off his shirt, throwing it on the floor. He moaned when you left a kiss on his belly. You unbuttoned his pants, making him go crazy with the sight. He ran his hand through your hair, lifting your head up. He kissed you, lying on top of you.

He pulled back to dispose of the remnants of yours clothes before returning to bed. He pushed hard at you, unable to wait even a second any longer. Your hips went up taking him completely. He groaned when you started squeezing his dick. “Baby…" he groaned. He turned, placing you on top of him. He rested his hand on the bed, and the second hugged you around the waist. Your sexy look drove him crazy, making him growl with impatience. You put your palms on his shoulders, continuing to move your hips. He had to control himself so as not to come right now. Every time you were on top, it was torture for him. Your moans filled the room as you continued to ride his dick. He squeezed your waist, making the thrusts deeper. You pushed him back, forcing him to lie down. Your gaze gave him goosebumps as you bit your lip and looked at him with such lust. You turned your back on him and sat down on his dick again. "Oh shit," he growled at the sight of your ass moving on his cock. It is unlikely that he will live to the end. He squeezed your ass, lowering you harder on his dick. His hips rose to meet your movements. He sat down, wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing against your back. Leaning you forward, he knelt down, starting to fuck you harder. His fingers dug into your thighs while he fucked you. He took your hands, leading them behind your back. He kept you in the air while he hard fuck you.

He stopped, letting go of you when he realized how cruel he was now. You got to your knees leaning your back on his chest as he sat on his knees. Taking his dick with your hand, you directed him inward again, sitting on top of his knees. You put your head on his shoulder with a groan. He ran his hands over your wet body, bringing his hand down to your clit. He could hardly restrain himself from cumming. He covered your clit, fingering it, making you cum first. You stopped when your thighs trembled violently. You groaned loudly as he started to move again. He also started to cum when you squeezed his dick hard because of orgasm. He fell forward, holding your thighs as he continued to push hard, lost in his pleasure. He put his hands on the bed, slowly moving inside you. Your body trembled underneath him, and your pussy tightened around his dick, sending heat through his body. He fell down next to you on the bed pulling you into his arms when he finally left you.

“I love you,” he whispered, leaving kisses on your lips.

"Why didn't you tell me about Jackson, and especially how you feel about it?"

“Because you friendly with everyone. I didn't want you to feel awkward"

“You could take care of it when you yourself would be calm about it, and not when everything inside you was burning with jealousy,” you angrily looked at him.

“Something went wrong in my plan,” he laughed softly, for which he received a blow in the shoulder. "Ouch ..." he groaned

"Don't even think about whining to me here now."

"Yes, my mistress," he muttered, making you giggle.

"I hope you didn't get into a fight with Jackson?" you looked at him with wide eyes and he laughed

“No, I was lucky and I didn’t meet him. Although I can’t guarantee that it wouldn’t have happened if I had seen him then.” He shook his head.

"Do you understand how stupid this is?"

He said nothing, his emotions were still too strong.

“Forgive me,” you said, and he looked at you in surprise. “For saying that Jackson brought me clothes,” you laughed, “Although I did not expect you to lose your temper so much. I was scared even for a moment, ”you chuckled.

"Sorry, I couldn't control myself." Everything inside him squeezed into a tight knot.

“You and I are talking about everything, why did you keep silent about it? Why did you suffer alone? I promise you, if you doubt me again, I will leave without even looking back in your direction!" you said, and a coldness passed through his body from your gaze. He realized that now in your words there was not even a hint of a joke.

“I don't know why I was acting so stupid. But I promise you that this will never happen again. Never!"

"I believe you, so please don't make me regret it later."

"I swear. I love you"

"I love you too"

He squeezed you in his arms, stroking your hair until you both fell asleep, exhausted by yours emotions.

_______________________

More Im Jaebeom x Reader

Chance meeting (smut)

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LIST  (BTS & GOT7)

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Artistic Instinct: Chapter 5

Header thanks to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty

Summary: Marcus Pike and OC Anushka Pierce have been selected to work on a 5 eyes (Australia, Canada, NZ, the UK and US) intelligence team to track down art forgeries as a part of taking down an international white terrorism cell. Marcus is trying to escape his broken heart, Anushka is just trying to escape what the world expects of her.

Word count: 4,700 (yup, the words ran away from me!)

Warnings: Language.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader (OC)

This comes with a MASSIVE THANK YOU to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty , who read, re-read, pointed out the constant flipping between tenses and gave me the confidence to try to write something!This is the first thing I have written since angsty poetry as a teenager. Apologies if it is shit!

Art washes away from the soul, the dust of everyday life

Pablo Picasso

Chapter 5

Golden sunlight streams down in ribbons upon your hair, setting fire to the natural red highlights and causing the wrought iron railing to cast beautiful shadows across the floor. Marcus sits with you upon your hotel balcony in the late morning sunshine. You are now, a little more comfy, wearing your airport clothes- the high-waisted, wide-legged jeans and a mustard yellow and cream breton top that does everything to highlight the rise and fall of your curves.

He watches each tiny twitch of your face as you read notes from the meeting- your full lips pout and brow furrow as your gaze flits backwards and forwards over the words, making connections and drawing together the different pieces of information that you’d gathered from that meeting. Marcus tries to smother a chuckle when you unthinkingly roll your eyes and shake your head at the point where some idiot tried talking over you in the meeting and he can fully read from his position that you have scrawled TWAT across your notes in reference to that mediocre white man.

It’s at this sound, that you look up, “What’s up?” you ask tiredly, smiling amusedly in his direction.

“You’ve got such an expressive face as you read- I swear, it’s like your muscles are reliving all of the faces you wanted to pull in the meeting. You managed that jerk well in there.”

“I’ve been managing cockwombles like him my entire life. They’re fucking insidious,” you say turning your eyes back towards the screen, shaking your head at the memory of the all the arseholes who have gone before and all those who were yet to come. “If they had anything to actually offer, I’d accept it; but they just parrot shit back at you - the same shit that came out of your own mouth moments earlier - as if it is their fucking own, enlightened idea!”

“I can imagine.This level of work, even in the art fraud department, is such an old boys’ club,” he agrees, pursing his lips in annoyance of the invisible barriers that you must have come up against.

Nodding in agreement, you add with your head tilting to one side as you take the agent in, “You don’t seem to fall into that category, Marcus. You even handed the reins over to me in there- I should have just been your lackey today, not the one doing all the speaking. I appreciate you treating me like an equal.”

Rolling his shoulders and stretching the sides of his neck, Marcus looks off into the distance as he slightly straightens up in his seat, “My Mamá firmly entrenched the value of every human being in me, regardless of their gender. I don’t wanna bring it up again, and certainly never wanna upset you, but you should be my role in the team. Your aptitude for this role far outweighs mine,” he grins and turns towards you, “There’s a part of me that feels like a mediocre white man around you.”

“Well, at least you have decent enough manners not to mansplain my ideas back at me!” you laugh, hugely enjoying your boss’ company on that narrow balcony.

“You know, I didn’t recognise you wearing civvies in the airport? I was absolutely kicking myself for not taking a ride with you to the airport.”

“Yeah, I get that. After seeing me suited and booted, it must have been a shock to see a jet-lagged, middle-aged man in old jeans and a hoodie,” Marcus humbly chuckles, shaking his head.

“Are you digging?” Your eyebrow arches high on your brow as you interrogate him teasingly.

“What do you mean digging?” Marcus furrows his brows as his eyes widen innocently.

“Digging for a compliment, you daft thing!”

“Hah, no! I meant it honestly. Sometimes I look at myself in the mirror and don’t even know the reflection that stares back at me,” he replies, shaking his head sadly.

“Pssh, you have nothing to worry about. Some of us can only dream of looking as put together as you. I generally look as though I crawled through an art studio backwards even if I use an iron and put make-up on- in fact, scratch that- I look worse if I iron and put effort into how I look,” you exhale despairingly at the memory of all the other immaculate recruits and your general throw-it-on, it’ll-do appearance. “Everyone else in my family is so incredibly smart- immaculate even- and yet, I stick out like a sore thumb. Like I didn’t quite pass the expectations of what it takes to be an adult. I swear that’s the reason my aunties think I’m not married.”

Marcus huffs a gentle laugh, “I think that’s a big part of it for me. For the amount of grey in my hair and the creases in my skin, I’m not where I expected to be at this point in my life.”

“Where did you expect to be, Marcus?” You cock your head to one side, listening intently.

A buzz suddenly emerges from your phone:

« On est en bas! »

“Ah they’re downstairs- but do not think for one second that this conversation is over,” you wag your finger in Marcus’ direction as you gather your belongings, “We will continue this later.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” Marcus mock salutes you and clicks his heels together as he rises from his chair with a huge crunch from his knees, “See, what did I tell ya? Old. I’m gonna grab my things.”

Grabbing your trusty rucksack from the floor of the balcony as Marcus departs, you feel almost reluctant to leave the balcony and the conversation that you were having with him. Since he’d helped you through the anxiety attack prior to re-entering your old workplace, the two of you had found an ease in being around each other. Whilst you are dreaming of spending a day chatting with Marcus, he’s already back with a small smile and a soft look about his eyes as he catches you staring into space.

Walking through the hotel, Marcus and you could be thought of as any pair of friends on holiday with your giggles and gentle jibes towards each other as you walk down endless corridors to find the exit. There is no way that anyone would have said that you had met barely twenty-four hours before or that you were there as business associates with the easy air you treat each other. After crossing the elegant lobby, you finally reach the doors to the outside world, a wave of relief coursing through you to see that you didn’t have to make a decision as to which way to open the door as there is someone to do it for you.

As you reach their car, Jacques takes off his seatbelt and makes to get out of the car but Marcus waves him off, opening the door for you to jump into one of the back seats.

“Oh you weren’t kidding about the stickiness,” you mercilessly tease the pair sitting in the front seats. Élodie responds by sliding her front seat back as far as it can go and you yelp in surprise at the sudden crushing of your legs, slamming your fist on her headrest in mock anger.

“Please excuse the children, Marcus,” Jacques shakes his head and sighs deeply but Élodie reaches over and squeezes her husband’s thigh in a way that makes him yelp and laugh in the same breath.

Marcus and you catch each other’s eyes and grin at the playfulness. You might be here on business but at least you can enjoy yourselves at the same time. The stresses of the morning slowly ebbing from your mind, you stretch out, resting your head against the cool glass of the window and allow the hum of the car engine and gentle chatter to surround you, lulling you off to the sleep you had missed out on the night before.

✪✪✪✪✪

Something is tenderly brushing against your cheek and you instinctively nuzzle into the warm touch as your eyes start to open and the world begins to regain its focus, “Hey, sleepyhead! We’re here,” Marcus murmurs as he strokes your cheek with his thumb to rouse you from your slumber.

“Shit. Sorry. Sorry,” you rub your eyes with your knuckles trying to rid yourself of the embarrassment of snuggling the fingers of your new boss, noticing that Élodie and Jacques have already left the car.

“No worries, your snores were pretty cute,” the agent teases you gently with a lopsided grin crossing his face.

“Lies! I don’t snore.” you exclaim indignantly at the accusations, but glad he hasn’t focussed on your reaction to him caressing your cheek, as your faculties start to kick in, reaching for the door handle to escape Marcus’ jokey impressions of your snores.

The mountain air in Grenoble strokes its icy fingertips against your neck, making you wrap the woolly softness of your cardigan more tightly around yourself. You notice Marcus also zipping up a black leather jacket over his hoodie. In the open boot of his car, Jacques concentrates on making a roll up next to a small bag of resources for you - cotton gloves, sample pots, tweezers and magnifying glasses.

“s'il vous plait, Marcus. Before we do anything else, I need to borrow your muscles,” Élodie announces to him, “We need coffee, and if I know that woman standing next to you, she will be in need of one, too!”

At Élodie’s statement, you watch Marcus’ face crease into a small smile, flashing that lovely dimple, as he crosses his arms across his chest. You wonder whether he's protecting his clothes from your next caffeine hit or trying to steel himself for the latest cheeky wink coming from Élodie. A slightly raised eyebrow is sent in your direction as his boots softly stride behind the clack of her heels upon the pavement.

A waft of tobacco drifts through the air as Jacques lights up as you watch his wife and your boss walk off in the direction of coffee.

“You left us, Nush,” Jacques scratches his nose as he looks at you through a cloud of smoke he has exhaled, “You disappeared. Literally, disappeared to the point that none of us could track you down.

“I mean, it is testament to what an incredible agent you are that you can just make yourself that invisible but…” he takes another inhale of the cigarette as he turns his shoulders to mirror your position, “But you weren’t even there for Jasper’s funeral.”

Silent rivers course down your face, “Please, Jacques. Don’t make me do this now. I can’t do this right now. Let me find my feet before we get into all of this. This is my first job since everything,” your hands trembling as you gesture wildly in the air. “I want to explain. I missed you both so much but I can’t right now. It isn’t the right time.”

Nothing more is said between the two of you as you both sit silently next to each other. Jacques nods contemplatively whilst he carries on sucking at his cigarette for comfort and release from the tension that has built upon his face. In the relative safety of the car boot, as he reaches across what feels like a chasm between you to pat your thigh, you can see the hurt searing through his eyes.

How did Imanage to destroy so much?

✪✪✪✪✪

Marcus wonders how you are doing. He keeps looking back at you until you fade from his sight just to make sure that you are ok. He swears that he saw your shoulders and head drop as they seem to whenever you’re reminded of whatever those ghosts are that you haven’t managed yet to lay to rest.

“She’ll be ok with Jacques. Those two are like brother and sister, you needn't worry,” Élodie pats Marcus’ arm as she points in front of her, nodding towards a cafe. Seeing a small tic in his jaw, she adds with a small smile, “She’s special to you, non?”

After Marcus holds the door for Élodie, he shoves his hands in his pockets and pauses before saying, “Yeah. She is. I don’t think in all my years of working as an agent, that I’ve ever met someone like Anushka. Listening to her speak about art and the various different forgeries… it just transports me to a place... I’m not just in the museum seeing the original masterpieces. It’s not even just that I can see those pieces in front of me. Just by her words bringing them alive, I become part of the art. Her passion and knowledge is infectious and she cannot help but to enthuse everyone around- she is truly gifted.”

“Anushka is incredibly talented. She was born to be in the role but I would say that’s not the only way that you think she’s special,” Élodie gently analyses as she squeezes Marcus’ arm seeing a moment of panic cross his face- she tries to swallow down a laugh at how he looks like a little boy caught with his hand in the biscuit tin, “Don’t worry, I won’t say a word to Nush- she can be a bit like a wild animal at times. It can take time to earn her trust. The 5 Eyes team is separate from Mi5, non?”

Marcus’ brow furrows, “Yes, we work under slightly separate parameters as we work across five agencies across the world- sort of similar to Interpol. Why d’ya ask?”

“Ok, so if you were to start anything with her- if anything were to be allowed to develop between the two of you, could it result in disciplinary action or her losing her role? Hang on,” she pauses as the assistant behind the glass shelf raises their eyebrows in Élodie’s direction, alerting her that it is time to order, « Bonjour, quatre cafés s’il vous plaît »

Marcus adds « Et je voudrais deux pain aux raisins aussi, s’il vous plaît. »

“Oh, I didn’t realise that you spoke a little French- a man of many talents,” Élodie teases with a wink as she grabs her purse from her bag, “And let me guess, the food is to try to stop Nush from burning herself or you? That woman is a nightmare with drinks.”

Reaching across Élodie,who is about to tap her card to pay, Marcus passes the cashier a couple of notes that more than cover the total, grabs the coffees and goes to leave, holding the door open with his elbow. “Why d’you wanna know about how interdepartmental relationships are viewed?”

The creases on Marcus’ brow deepen as yet another hint of whatever plagues your past troubles his mind due to Élodie’s words, “It is not my story to tell, and I’m not sure I even have half of the facts but please be gentle with her. Come what may between the two of you.”

“Oh, look who’s come to join us!” Looking up after a sharp nudge to his ribs alerted him to speak no further, Marcus sees Jacques tucking a piece of hair that had fallen in front of your eyes behind your ear, then pulling your hunched shoulders into a side on shoulder hug as Élodie grabs a coffee and mocks throwing it in your direction, to which you stick your tongue out. You are so busy messing around with the pair of them that you don’t notice the tenderness in Marcus’ eyes or the smile that creeps across his face as he watches how your friends behave around you.

“So are we ready to look at a slab of meat? I hope you’re not a vegetarian, Marcus,” Jacques chuckles freely at the thought of the tall, broad American becoming queasy at a graphic painting depicting the decomposition of a piece of carrion.

“Oh no, I love rare steak far too much, and I’ve spent way too long researching art to be weirded out by a bit of expressionism,” Marcus adds before taking a long gulp of coffee, “I must admit that I’m not terribly confident in my knowledge of Soutine other than he liked painting rotting meat.”

Jacques smiles and gestures his head in your direction, “Nush- time to shine, chérie.”

“So - Soutine was a Russian painter, who made massive contributions to the Expressionist movement whilst based in Paris. I don’t want to teach you to suck eggs so please tell me to shut up if you already know it but expressionism was a modernist movement, initially in poetry and painting, originating in Germany at the beginning of the 20th century. Its typical trait was to present the world solely from a subjective perspective, distorting it radically for emotional effect in order to evoke moods or ideas. Expressionist artists sought to express the meaning of emotional experience rather than physical reality so you needn’t worry about the depictions of rotting meat as it isn’t like an anatomical drawing you’d find in a copy of Grey’s Anatomy or anything.”

Pausing to draw a breath, you look up to check Marcus’ face- that you aren’t boring him to death- and see two dark eyes, flecked with amber, that are entirely focussed on you. His entranced gaze makes you shift awkwardly, eyes dancing around the street to try and focus on something other than him under the sheer intensity but you decide to continue, “He’s quite an interesting character in regards to our case as he was good friends with Modigliani, who we know is another one with multiple fraudulencies of his works as well as our link we made in the meeting that our main faked pieces being sold by our group are by European Jews.

“Soutine seldom showed his works, but he did take part in the important exhibition The Origins and Development of International Independent Art held at the Galerie nationale du Jeu de Paume in 1937 in Paris, where he was at last hailed as a great painter but sadly soon afterwards, France was invaded by German troops and obviously as a Jew, Soutine had to escape from the French capital and hide in order to avoid arrest by the Gestapo. He moved from one place to another and was sometimes forced to seek shelter in forests, sleeping outdoors. Suffering from a stomach ulcer and bleeding badly, he left a safe hiding place for Paris in order to undergo emergency surgery, which ultimately failed to save his life.

“The main thing that you two need to know,” you add as you reaffix your focus and run your eyes between Marcus and Jacques, ”Is that Paul Guillaume was the main dealer of his work. Straight after World War 1, he was Soutine’s biggest cheerleader and landed him a major deal with the American collector, Albert C Barnes. If you manage to track it back to either of them, you’re pretty much at ground zero- back at Soutine’s own easel- and don’t need to worry much about further certification of validity as it being one of his pieces.”

Standing in the street in front of the cafe, you discuss between the four of you who will focus on which part of the checking for verification of the piece.

Marcus and Jacques decide to focus on the provenance of the piece and to be honest, you’re relieved to be free from the paperwork trail. The idea of searching through the records of previous ownership, fills you with utter dread at missing something that would prove that it was a fake. You’d hope that each piece could be instantly traceable back to the moment where the original had been removed from the easel by the artist but that is so often far from the truth of the situation as records are often lost or aren’t even kept in the first place with only a handshake to move the piece to the newest owner. When certain disreputable organisations or untrustworthy governments seek to obscure the origins of pieces, it is nothing but doors being slammed in your face and labyrinths created from lies and deliberate obfuscation.

“Ok, so Nush and I will collect samples from the piece. I’ll then use the microscope to check the samples for any irregularities in the craquelure in the craquelure while madam here uses the stereo microscope to check the layers of paint,” Élodie gestures towards you, passing a plastic case over containing your equipment. “Obviously we won’t be able to do an x-rays, infrared or mass spectrometry tests as they aren’t so portable but if we cannot confidently say the painting isn’t a forgery, then I suggest we get a courier to take it back to Lyon for us.”

“Agreed, I think that would be the best use of everyone’s talents here,” Marcus replies, nodding, “Are we far from the auction house?” to build up a more 3D picture of the piece. D’accord??” Élodie checks as she grabs a coffee and starts to walk off in the direction of the auction house with Jacques beating a steady path behind her.

With a small gesture of his hand, Marcus waves you forward and as you take a step in the same direction as your friends, a small white paper bag with a telltale sticky stain seeping through that you hadn’t noticed being held out, taps you gently against the soft curve of your tummy. With a confused look knitting across your face.

Marcus boyishly grins back at you as he takes a bite out of his pastry, “Last set of clean clothes, gotta take calculated risks with you around.”

✪✪✪✪✪

Slightly arched windows with flaking grey paint allow a small amount of crisp mountain light to trickle into the mellow gloom of the Aladdin's cave that stretch out in front of Marcus’ eyes. As far as his eyes can see, gilt framed pictures playing out a multitude of scenes from people’s lives- some more parochial and some edging to the more abstract- bedeck the walls. A goat playing a violin, a horse in a field and a lady all in blue with sad eyes and a nose twisted closer to her ears are all jostling for positions in the party on his senses. Every single nerve in his body tingles with excitement at the treasures surrounding him on all sides. The busy-ness did not stop at the walls as every surface of the room was covered in objets d’art with exquisitely fashioned chairs, tables and armoires creating an increasingly impossible maze to step through across the floor. Even the exposed beams of the ceiling felt the need to be a part of this gentle assault upon the eyes, protruding above his head, lending an elegant set of vertebrae to the room.

Marcus thinks he’s hiding his giddiness well until he catches Anushka looking at him with an amused grin upon her face. He goes to respond but initially struggles to find the words to explain the eagerness that is written across his face, his mouth stretched in a childlike grin, eyes lit up and hands that tremble and flex with anticipation. A small smile from her and the light squeeze upon his arm told Marcus that he needn’t worry about explaining anything. Even though the touch was slight and momentary, it cut through the overstimulation of the room and it takes every bit of self control he owns to not throw his arms around her and hug her tightly. Don’t mess this one up too, Pike.

Reopening his eyes, an elegant chignon of hair and high cheekbones makes its way through the clutter of Marcus’ thoughts and extends a delicate, papery hand in greeting. The owner seems to glide through the objects around her, obviously confident of the dead ends and exit points between the items as she leads you to a small office where a tidy pile of papers and a small computer await your services.

«Madame, comprenez-vous que l'utilisation de ces méthodes scientifiques ne peut que prouver que le tableau est un faux? On ne peut pas prouver si une pièce est authentique.» Madam, do you understand that using these scientific methods cannot prove if a painting is a fake? rubbing his brow, Jacques tries to explain to the owner of the auction house, «Même si les résultats de tous les tests scientifiques indiquent qu'il n'y a pas de tromperie dans l'œuvre d'art, nous ne pouvons pas dire sans l'ombre d'un doute qu'il ne s'agit pas simplement d'un cas d'un faussaire dépassant la détection scientifique.» Even if the results of these scientific tests show that there is not a forgery in this work of art, we cannot say without a shadow of doubt that there is not simply a case of a forger out-pacing scientific detection.

Marcus nods in agreement with the agent’s words. He hates the dishonesty of it all- the obviously incredibly talented painters creating mimicries and mockeries of the original pieces. As the owner spins out of the room, Jacques notices the frown painted on Marcus’ face and the tic in his jaw as he starts to flick through the portfolio of papers in front of him.

“Hey, what happened to the giddy boy in the sweetshop back there?” Jacques teases, gently punching him on his shoulder.

Rubbing his fingers along the side of his nose before scratching the patchy scruff that lines the edge of his jaw, Marcus smiles, “Hah! That obvious, eh? Just, kinda wishing that we weren’t even necessary.”

“Yeah, it is irritating but it does pay my mortgage,”Jacques chuckles deeply, “And to be honest without it, I wouldn’t have met that woman in that lock up over there and convinced her that she should marry me or have my baby.”

A pang of jealousy hit Marcus hard, “You’ve done well then. Mine just pays a mortgage on a place in DC that I won’t even be living in for the next couple of years.”

“Never wanted to or the opportunity never arose?” Jacques quizzes not lifting his eyes as he reads through documents.

“Your setup with Élodie is something I’d love to have,” he nods sadly, “Just have one failed marriage - due to her infidelity and lack of wish to try and work things out, and a failed engagement as she was in love with another man - to my name. No, I’d love to have that vulnerability and affection with someone again. Kinda feels like a pipe dream now- not sure anyone would want to take on someone with such a creased up, greying ol’man.”

“Hah, have you forgotten my wife’s quite genuinely visceral reaction to meeting you?” Jacques laughs heartily, rolling his eyes at the mere suggestion from Marcus, “Believe me, you do not have anything to worry about there. It’ll happen. Usually- in fact, always, when you least expect it.”

With a soft huff and a slight lift from the left side of his lips, Jacques strains to hear Marcus’ whisper, “I truly hope so.”

“Hang on, whose name was it that we were looking for that would pretty much guarantee authenticity?”

Jacques’ face creases in concentration as he tries to rack his brains for the names Nush had provided earlier, “Bof...Paul something-or-the-other French and Albert something-or-the-other American, I think.”

“Hmmm, I think I’ve a document here with both of their names on it… Shall we go share it with the ladies?”

«Bonne idée. On y va. » Good idea. Let’s go.

Grabbing the pile of documents from the polished walnut bureau, there’s a sweet bubble of excitement building in Marcus’ tummy. Try as he might to convince himself that it was on account of being out of the tiny office and back around an exquisite masterpiece from the early twentieth century, deep down he knew there was another sweeter, more ancient and primal reason that made him want to be in the lock up.

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wrong - t.seguin

a/n: this gif has no correlation to the story but it made me smile so

summary: you and Tyler have your first big fight

You were happily working in your own little bubble, occasionally petting Marshall’s head as he nudged your knees. You were sitting on Tyler’s bed, your laptop on your legs as you edited the photos you had just taken, proud of yourself for finally starting to get your own little photography business off the ground, of course you had help from Tyler, but you never asked, he always offered and after being together for over a year you decided you both were stable enough to allow him to help. Never financially though, you refused to let him do that, but here or there he’d mention your name to some people, or post a picture that you had taken, the little things. You heard the front door open and shut, followed by the dogs rushing down the hallway, nearly sliding into each other as they rushed to greet Tyler. “Hey, hey guys.” He cheered, lightly cooing down to the dogs, you didn’t have to see him to know there was a smile on his face. You slid your laptop to the side. Your feet lightly slapping against the hard floors as you made your way to see Tyler, “hey, babe.” You mumbled, he glanced over, smiling softly. The summer was quickly wrapping up and it was time for his training to really step up a notch, and you knew that would mean less time together, you’d been through it once before and you knew when the season started it would also be even harder, with away games and interviews and practice on top of practice. You were prepared for that, both of you were, but you weren’t prepared for how his attitude would start to change over the coming months.

“Hey.” He sighed in return, walking over and kissing you quickly, you hid the small frown at his greeting, normally it was more enthusiastic but you could tell he looked a little tired, a little stressed, so you brushed it off. “You look nice.” You complimented, you knew he had just finished some interviews, hence the reason he was in a button up instead of his usual shirt or hoodie. “Thank you, baby.” He responded, continuing his walk to the bedroom, the dogs following him happily, you in turn, followed them, hoping his mood would turn around once he got a good shower and some rest. “I’m taking a shower.” He paused in the doorway, some of his usual spunk returning, “care to join me?” He teased, smirking at you. Normally you would humor him, although nine times out of ten nothing actually happened in the shower, it was what the showed led to. “I would, but I really need to finish editing these pictures, there was a miscommunication and she needs them sooner than I thought.” You explained, pouting at him. “Alright.” He shrugged it off, shooting you a small smile, you sighed and climbed back into your spot on the bed, quickly getting back to work, only to find yourself angry when you unlocked the laptop to see that it hadn’t saved the editing you’d already done and now you had to start all over. “Damn it!” You groaned, sloppily tying your hair back, annoyance running through you, quickly, you started trying to get caught up, but it just wasn’t the same and you were growing frustrated with how different it was looking than before.

Tyler walked back out of the bathroom, hair a little damp as he shrugged a shirt on, you glanced up at him with tired eyes, “you alright?” He asked, seeing the look on your face. “No, my stupid computer didn’t save anything I had already done, I’m going to be up late trying to finish.” You explained, beginning to move off the bed, “I’ll go work in the living room, I know you have to get up early tomorrow.” You added, seeing the time, it wasn’t that late, but you did in fact know he had to be up extremely early for training tomorrow. “No, you can stay.” He assured you, sitting beside you, “it’s fine, I’d rather know you’re in here working.” He pulled you in for a kiss, silently making up for his slight attitude earlier. “Are you sure?” You questioned, not wanting him to hold it against you. Tyler shimmied down the bed, his head resting on the pillow as he lazily draped an arm over your legs. “I’m sure.” He mumbled, sleepily watching you, occasionally he’d ask a question, you’d give him an answer that would make him laugh, “that makes no sense”. Eventually you could tell he’d fallen asleep beside you, and you smiled down at him, leaning over to kiss his head, he moved a little but didn’t budge, only rolling into you a little more as you continued away.

***

That’s how most nights went, for a while, occasionally you’d be able to get everything edited before Tyler was home, but most nights you’d just started when he got home, most of the people you did photos for wanted them at sunset. You’d been able to start scheduling things a bit better and have more time with Tyler but now as his schedule started to change with the season starting, you could tell he was getting overwhelmed, and quite honestly a little snippy towards you. They had just completed the third game of the season, and they lost, which was never a good thing but he was taking it particularly hard. “Are you almost done?” He snapped, impatiently watching the tv as you finished up your work, you turned to him slowly, raising your brows. “Yes?” You responded, it came out slightly like a question at his sudden attitude. “You’re always on that damn computer.” He grumbled, watching as you turned it off, setting it aside. You sat up from your spot on the couch, looking at him, “I’m sorry, I’m working.” You responded, knowing your words were only going to egg him on. This time he looked at you, “you’re never here anymore, like really here.” He deadpanned. You scoffed at his words, “I’m here, I’m always here, you’re the one who comes home and puts hockey highlights on, trying to figure out what you could’ve done better.” You snapped, not meaning too, but it was too late now as he raised his eyebrows. “That’s my job, Y/N. I need to keep getting better.” He snapped, standing up, you followed, shaking your head, “and that’s mine!” You pointed to the computer. “You’re not the only one who works.” You added with a pointed voice. He rolled his eyes, and the words he said nearly knocked all the air out of your lungs.

“Oh right I’m sorry, because taking pictures is how we’re paying for our life right?” He hissed and the second he met your eyes he realized what he said, “you ass.” You whispered, he started shaking his head. “No, no, you know I didn’t mean that!” He panicked, which on some level made you feel better because you knew he didn’t entirely mean it, but if he said it, surely he’s thought it, or heard it from other people. “I can’t do it? Is that what you’re saying?!” You let the emotion overcome you, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You supported me, you didn’t have to, and I’ll be damned if you’re going to talk down to me like this when I refused to take your help for more than a year of you asking!” You snapped, he fell silent, lips pursed together as he watched you. When he didn’t say anything you shook your head, gathering your things that were scattered around the living room. “What are you doing?” He asked, not moving, you rolled your eyes, feeling the tears run down your face. “I’m going to stay in the guest room tonight, or until you realize how much your words fucking hurt.” You whispered, “baby, don’t cry.” Tyler finally showed some remorse, but you refused to turn to putty again, “no, Tyler. I can’t believe you would say that, and I know I said something‘s I shouldn’t have either, but I would never put down your career choice.” And with that, you did the one thing your mother always told you not to do, you both went to bed angry with each other.

***

Tyler has another game today, and you were already supposed to be going, but when you woke up in the morning he was already gone, all you had was a text that said good morning. Your mind raced with the thoughts of last night, the words you exchanged, the lack of I love you’s. It killed you, and you felt the anxiety rising in your chest, what if this was the end, what if- your phone ringing cut off the thoughts running through your head. You saw Jamie’s name on the screen and immediately panicked, did something happen? “Hello?” You rushed, and Jamie sighed, “I don’t know what the hell happened between you two, but Tyler is like a fucking zombie.” He explained and you felt a little relieved, as horrible as it sounds, but at least you knew he couldn’t rest well after last night either. “I’ll be at the game, I’m sorry if he’s an ass today, we-it was a nasty fight.” You stammered out, biting the corner of your mouth as Jamie sighed, you could picture the way he ran his hand over his face whenever he was stressed, “it’s fine, just work it out, okay? Tyler isn’t the best without you.” Is all he responded with, you both said a quick goodbye and you rushed to your feet, going to get ready.

You took an unbelievably hot shower, wanting to feel as clean as possible, which no amount of water could do as you felt bad to your heart for how things went. You blew dry your hair, putting on some simple makeup, and your signature game day outfit. Skinny jeans and a Seguin jersey of course.

This was the most nerve wracking you’ve ever felt going to a game, simply because you haven’t seen him since last night. You made your way to the seats, and every time Tyler skated by, even during warmups, he didn’t look over, like he thought you wouldn’t be there.

It felt like forever and a day, but finally, finally he looked up and you could see the shock on his face when he met your eyes. You were right beside the glass, like always, you simply smiled at him, and both of your worries seemed to ease up. That was until you were watching him play and he got barreled into the wall. You shot to your feet, nothing but panic filling you when he took longer than usual to get up. When he took longer than this to get up, you knew it wasn’t good, Jamie skated over, helping Tyler to his feet, Tyler’s eyes were squeezed shut in pain, his head hanging a little low as he made his way off the ice. He disappeared down the tunnel, and you anxiously waited to hear them say he wasn’t returning, but it never happened. You looked over and saw him walking back out, sitting with the other guys on the bench like it never happened. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in. He glanced over at you at one point, giving you a soft smile, it didn’t quite meet his eyes. And you couldn’t help but hope that was only because he felt guilty about last night.

Katie gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder as you anxiously bounced your foot against the cement floor outside the locker rooms, “it’s ok, it was your first big fight, it happens.” She tried to calm you but you only grew more worried when Jamie came out and Tyler wasn’t right behind him. “He’s alright, just a little banged up.” Jamie spoke, wrapping an arm around Katie, you nodded, “thanks.” You whispered, eyes shooting up when you heard Tyler’s voice. He appeared around the corner a second later, instantly taking three big steps towards you. Before you had time to react he had you pulled against his chest, Jamie and Katie walking off to give you some privacy. “Baby, I’m so sorry, I’m an idiot, I can’t believe I said that.” He rushed his words, you nodded staying silent, processing what he said. “If you said it, you had to have thought it before.” You stood your ground, slightly pulling away from him. He shook his head instantly, “no, I was reading stupid comments and someone said that and it just pissed me off, it just came out.” He assured you and continued speaking when you blankly stared at him. “Listen to me, I love you, I love taking care of you and I know you don’t need me too, because you could so easily become the best photographer in Dallas,” he paused to wink, sighing in relief when you cracked a smile. “But I want to take care of us, take care of the dogs, take care of whatever little Seguin’s we have running around in a few years. If you’ll let me?” He concluded, growing confused when you looked away with tears in your eyes. “Y/N-“ “I love you.” You cut him off, all but yanking him in for a kiss, he laughed against your lips, before reciprocating the action. “I love you too.” He mumbled against you. “How many little Seguin’s?” You teased when you pulled away and he threw his head back in laughter, “as many as we can handle.” “That’s a good answer.”

Taglist: @literarycharleton @thathockeygirl

When The Lights Go Out

Chapter 6

Summary: Life hasn’t been your best friend lately, you lost your job, and are on the verge of losing your apartment. Who knew when you decided to join a Sugar Daddy app that your best friend suggested ina last ditch effort to save your apartment, and not end up on the street, your first and only client would turn your whole world upside down.

Pairing: Mobster!Dean Winchester x Virgin! Reader

Word Count: 2203

Series Warnings: Mob level violence, injured Dean, description of injury, creepy Godfather John Winchester, John is pretty much a douche bag, escort services, virgin reader, lose of virginity and all the insecurities and fun stuff that come with it, age gap (23 year old reader; 40 year old Dean), angst, unrequited/requited love?, language, smut, unprotected smut.

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Fighting, Hurt!Dean, description of injury, blood, swearing, John is a dick, regret. I think that’s it. 

A/N: Beta’d by @deanwanddamons! Thanks so much love!! Please don’t copy my work!! Feedback is golden! Hope you all enjoy this one!! It’s gonna be a little bit of a slow burn y’all, but just hang in there!

(This fic is based on this request: Could you do a Dean x reader where she is 23 and lives alone in her apartment, she gets fired and can loose her house, her friend tells her about a sugar daddy app, she makes a profile and Dean 40, contacts her, she is virgin and don’t offers sex, Dean is billionaire business man and needs a girl for his business parties,the reader is really shy, blushes a lot, they fall in love, he takes her to a trip and makes love to her on a private island, could it be a series?)

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***MASTERLIST***

***SERIES MASTERLIST***

Sitting in the chair that was facing the window that looked out on the dark lawn below from Dean’s room, you shove the peppermint tea that Jess had brought up to you a little further away. She was just trying to make you better, and you knew that, but you didn’t think there was anything anyone could do to make you feel better. Especially when none of them knew what was really wrong with you. They all thought that you were just nervous about Dean’s job today, but that was so far from the truth.

Dean’s little revelation before he disappeared in the bathroom was the last thing he’d  said to you last night, and when you finally cried yourself to sleep, you were pretty sure he’d just chosen to sleep in the bathroom and not come out to talk to you. 

He was so angry that you were scared to go and try to talk to him, and when you woke up this morning, Dean and John were already long gone. 

A knock on the door and Jess’ entry pulled you from your thoughts as she made her way to sit down on the chair next to you. 

“Hey you. How are you holding up?”

You shook your head and tried to stop the stinging tears that threatened to spill over the surface from falling.

“I’m okay, just stressed.” you lied, pulling your blanket up to your neck like it could hide your shame. If something happened to Dean today, you’d never forgive yourself. He’d done and given so much to keep you safe, and you pretty much told him last night that you hoped he died. God how you wanted to take it all back, do it all different. 

“John and Dean will be just fine. High table meetings are always stressful and dangerous, because the Campbells will be there, and they like to cause problems with John.They still blame him for Dean and Sam’s mom’s death in that house fire, but this isn’t like it’s something they haven’t dealt with before, and by tonight he will be here, safe and sound.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat you nod your head. You hoped with everything in you that she was right, and that they would make it home. You didn't understand all of this stuff, but you knew that if you became John’s you were probably fucked in ever since of the word, if you even lived through the guilt of never giving Dean the chance he deserved. 

You made a promise to yourself, that if he lived through this, and everything worked out okay, you’d give him that chance. Let yourself fall for him like you were doing before you were forced to move in here. Maybe even get to be happy with him.

Jess put a comforting hand on our shoulder and stood from her seat. 

“Sam and I are about to have a Friends marathon in the living area. Want to join us?” she asked, and you forced a smile in return.

“Maybe in a little bit. I think I’m gonna try and take a shower, see if I can scald away some of this stress.” you tell her, and she gives you a warm smile before leaving you to your thoughts. 

Unwrapping yourself from your cocoon of blankets, you wander your way to the bathroom. You didn’t even have time to start the shower, when you heard a blood curdling  scream from the down stairs part of the house. 

Your heart stopped in your chest, and you ran towards the staircase, coming to the landing just in time to see John and Sam hauling a very bloody Dean through the front door, and towards what they called the medical area of the house. 

For just a moment you were rooted in your spot, unable to make your feet move, as absolute horror gripped you.

You don’t even know really what made feet move, but you numbly made your way towards the yelling, not even really paying attention to what they were saying or the man in a suit that ran past you toward him, though you did note that they were calling him Nick.

When you entered the room the horror that greeted you made the bile rise in your throat. 

They had Dean stretched out on a table, his shirt ripped open, blood pouring from his stomach in a way that you couldn’t really even see the injury, but you knew it was bad. Nick circled the table, yelling commands at Sam that you didn’t even hear over the ringing in your ears.

Nick's British accent was cut off by John’s deep voice, bringing you back to your senses.

“Y/N! GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE, AND COMFORT MY SON! KEEP HIM CALM!”

Your attention snapped from the long, deep gash in Dean’s stomach, to the green eyes that were boring into yours. 

Violence isn't something you were accustomed to. You had never seen anyone hurt that bad in real life, but aside from the blood, and the gore of the cut, it was the hurt in his eyes that made your heart shatter. 

He was staring at you, his eyes almost as red as his stomach, the piercing green duller than normal, eyes wet as if he wanted to cry, but wouldn’t allow himself to. 

You staggered a step towards him, and Dean lifted his hand shakily in our direction. That just made it all hurt worse. 

Grabbing his hand in yours, you card your fingers through his hair, keep your eyes locked on his, as Nick and Sam move around behind you, keeping your back to the wound on Dean’s stomach, and focusing on his face, John standing over your shoulder, watching everything closely. 

“Dean, oh my God, I’m so, sorry.” you said in almost a whisper, shock evident in your voice. 

Dean didn’t answer, just gritted his teeth, and closed his eyes against the pain radiating through his body.

“Gonna have to stitch him up here John. He’s not going to make it to a hospital, but it doesn’t look like anything internal was damaged.” Nick said, and John just nodded above you. 

“You...You’re not going to put him to sleep?” you ask as Nick and Sam prepared needles full of brown liquid.

“Can’t do that. He’s lost too much blood, but don’t worry sweetheart, we’re gonna numb him up real good.” Nick said, Jess made her way to the other side of Dean’s head across the table. 

“Nick’s the family doctor of shorts. Everything’s gonna be fine.” she tries to assure you. 

You try and keep the horror and trembling under control. Focusing on Dean’s eyes, you see one large tear roll down his face as Nick and Sam move closer to his wound. His grip tightens on your hand, but he didn’t scream at what surely was the unbearable pain of the needles entering his wound before the numbing medicine could spread. Sam worked at putting an IV in his free arm next to Jess. 

Once the shots were done it seemed like it took them forever to stitch up him, and Dean’s eyes were getting heavy.  Nick assured you it was just the morphine, and not the blood loss. 

“What went wrong out there?” Sam asked, helping Nick wrap his brother’s wound once the stitching was done with thick antibiotic ointments, and gauze 

“Believe it or not, that didn’t happen at the meeting. We stopped to get gas at a station just outside of town, and some of Sammual’s boys jumped him. They weren't all that happy about the high tables approval of Y/N here, and they thought they’d take it out on Dean.”

Sam gritted his teeth and nodded his head. 

“Don’t worry son this isn’t over, they will pay for this.” John assured him, and Jess put her hand on his shoulder to calm him. 

“You on the other hand,” John said, leering at you as Nick finished up Dean’s wound, “clean up my son! Make sure he’s taken care of! He is your responsibility. If something happens to him, I swear to God your next.” 

John left the room his heavy footsteps echoing as Nick and Sam lifted Dean carefully in front of the table they’d been working on him on. Making their way up the stairs, and into your shared room they laid him down carefully on the bed, before Nick hooked up the bags of fluid and a bag of antibiotics to his IV.

Dean barely moved, or acknowledged what they were doing to him, which scared you, but no one else seemed concerned. 

“I’ll be back in four hours to give him another round of Morphine. I’ll go grab some Ambian to help him stay asleep. He needs the rest. Don’t worry sweetheart, he’s going to be just fine.” Nick said, giving you a pat on the back before disappearing to go and get the sleeping aid he’d referred to, returning only long enough to give it to him, and leave. 

Crawling carefully in the bed next to you, you carded your fingers through Dean’s tousled hair, his green eyes fluttering open to look at you. 

“I’m sorry Dean, this is all my fault, and I’ve treated you horribly. I wish I could take it all back.” you tell him, tears falling freely down your face as his hand reaches for you like a scared child that has been hurt, looking for comfort. 

“S’Okay, I shouldn’t have snapped at you last night. This hasn’t been easy for you, I know that. I’m just glad I didn’t die before I got to see you again.” he mumbled, his eyes heavy as he fought against the medication.

Carefully as possible, you slip your arm around his head, pulling him close to you as he loses the battle against consciousness. 

You had a second chance with Dean, and you were determined not to fuck it up this time, this time you would be everything he deserved. 

The sound of your bedroom door opening caught your attention as light flooded the dark room where Dean and yourself were laying. Sam’s overly tall figure slipped inside, and shut the door behind him before making his way to the bed with the small desk chair in tow, sitting it next to his brother's side of the bed, before flopping down in it. 

Dean was not a small man by any means, but next to his “little” brother, he looked so small, especially laying on the bed with his stomach sewn shut, and an IV leading from his arm. 

“Did you finish getting him undressed?” Sam asked, and you suddenly felt stupid. You didn't even think about his slacks and shoes that were still on his feet. 

“Oh God, I didn’t think about that.” You said, ripping the cover off of him as gently as you could, and working to take his shoes off as Sam stood and help you undo his slacks, slipping them down his long bowed legs, leaving him just in his tight, black boxers before the two of you covered him back up, and you settle back down next to him.

“You know, John catches you in here, it's my ass. You heard what he said.” you tell Sam in a hushed whisper, and Sam chuckled darkly. 

“Don’t worry about John. He better not tell me shit about coming to check on my brother.” Sam said darkly, and that for some reason was laced with a promise more lethal than anything John had said downstairs. 

“Why did they do this Sam, why do they hate him so much.” you ask, watching as Dean shifted closer to you in his sleep, unconsciously  seeking comfort from you, even through all the drugs they had him on. 

“Because Samual Cambell is a narcissistic dick who can’t let the past go.” Sam said darkly.

“He still blames your dad for your mom’s death?” you ask, settling Dean’s head back on your shoulder. 

“Yep, that’s some of it. Some of it is  he’s just a heartless dick, who wants to have all the power. He hated my dad even when my mom was alive from what I’m told. I don’t really remember as she died when I was just a baby. I can tell you this, no man in his right mind would put a death order on his own fucking grandson, much less the son of John Winchester. He will pay for this Y/N, I promise you. Just worry about getting Dean better. We will take care of the rest.” Sam said, standing up from his chair, and making his way towards the door, stopping just short of opening it.

“You know, Dean really does love you, I’ve never seen him like this before. I just feel like you needed to hear that.” Sam said, before disappearing into the hallway. 

God, you hoped he was telling the truth, because right now, you were pretty sure you had fallen from him the moment you climbed out of his SUV, and you were too big of a coward to admit it to yourself, until you almost lost him.

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

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Let Your Hair Down (chapter iii)

Get caught up with the Let Your Hair Down Masterlist!

word count: word count: 1,624

story summary: Harry gets more than he bargains for when he falls not only for you but your little girl as well.

chapter summary: You run into Harry again when you least expect it but when you need him the most. 

warnings: language as per usual.

>>><<<

It'd been three weeks since the cookout at Mitch and Sarah's. Three weeks since you had made the big move and three weeks of being absolutely lost every single time you left your apartment. You had no idea how people got around in this damn city but you suspected them all of being wizards. There's no way someone could figure out how to use the subway and not know magic. You had already taken the wrong one 3 times on the way to drop Thea off to her first day at her new school and if you didn't find out where you were going in the next hour you'd be late not only to drop her off but to your new job as well.

"Okay, sunshine let's get going before momma gets us lost again and you're late." You said as you handed her the breakfast muffin and juice box you had ordered for her at the Starbucks you managed to stumble upon. You wanted to take her out to a nice breakfast, somewhere that had pancakes, which were her favorite, as a celebratory meal before her first day but unfortunately you getting lost 3 times meant you had to quickly change your plans.

She nodded as she took a bite of the muffin you were regretting giving to her in the first place. It looked like it had definitely seen better days but she was hungry and you had no time to stop and get a better meal. At least your 5 shot espresso iced latte was decent and it would definitely kick your ass in gear.

You started to frantically look in purse for your phone as you both walked down the crowded street. You knew you just had it and the address for her school was in your phone notes. There was no way you were going to make it there without that damn address and your stress level was rising the more you searched and couldn't find it.

"Momma," Thea said as she tugged on your pinstriped pantsuit. "Harry!"

"Yes baby I know we're in a hurry but if I don't find my phone we're definitely not making it there in time." You were half-listening to her. Your heart slamming against your chest as anxiety bubbled up in you. You had everything in your phone. Including the address to get to your apartment because you still had no idea how to get there on your own yet.

"No Momma. Harry not hurry!" She huffed right as you found your phone and pulled it out of your purse. Your sigh of relief was cut short though as you walked face-first into someone. Of course this day just had to get worse and worse.

"Oh my god." You shrieked as the contents of your purse went everywhere. Your drink spilling all down the person you walked into but managed by some luck to not get all over you.

"I'm so so sorry!" You bent down quickly trying to desperately shove everything back into your purse, not even looking at the person. Embarrassment wasn't even close to the right word. You were on the verge of tears, you just wanted today to be perfect and so far it had been complete shit.

"I promise I'll pay for dry cleaning or even buy you a new shirt or something." You rambled, your words running together as you quickly picked up your business card holder so they could get a hold of you and you could repay them for the shirt or get it cleaned for them.

"Here you go." You said, taking out a card and standing up, finally getting a good look at the person you ran into.

"Oh my god." You muttered under your breath. Fuck your life. You just had to run into him. Had to, because of course your luck was shit. If you thought you were embarrassed before you definitely were now. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you hated yourself for being the type of person who literally cried over any small inconvenience.

You're a strong bitch, do not cry. Do not cry. DO NOT CRY. Your brain chanted over and over again as you stood dumbfounded in front of Harry.

"Well, I'm going to go die of embarrassment over there so…" You trailed off as you handed him your business card and tried to move around him but Thea kept you firmly in your place.

"Momma, Harry can help us find my school." She suggested before she took the last bite of her breakfast muffin as she peered up to Harry. Basically pleading with him to save her from your almost meltdown with her big doe eyes.

"I'm sure Harry is very busy sweetheart." You said trying to choke back all the emotions that were starting to get the best of you. You didn't want to admit you needed help, your pride always seemed to get in the way.

"'S not a problem," Harry said softly. His voice sounding like it was begging you to just let him help. You let out a small sigh before nodding your head in agreement and showing him the address on your phone.

"My GPS kept saying it was around a corner but when I get there it says rerouting." You huffed. "I've already managed to get us lost 3 times on that stupid subway, don't think I could take getting lost one more time." You admitted with your eyes firmly kept on the phone screen but you could feel his stare burning into you.

"Just the next street over is all." He said turning around and taking Thea's now empty muffin wrapper in his one hand, so he could hold her hand with his free one.

"Come on, I'll walk you to make sure you don't get lost again." He started to walk with Thea a few steps in front of you before you quickly caught up to them. She gave Harry the rundown of your disastrous morning but then moved on to tell him how excited she was to start school.

"Momma says that they have a playground and I'll get to play on it if I'm good and listen to my teacher." She beamed. She had been talking about recess since she first found out she was able to go to kindergarten.

"Well, I guess you better make sure to listen to your teacher so you can play today." A smile crept up on his face as Thea started swinging their hands back and forth together. She did a little skip as she agreed with Harry.

It wasn't even 10 minutes later and you were finally standing in front of her school. You bent down to her level and gave her a tight hug, kissing her on her cheek.

"Okay baby girl, tell me the rules." You said pulling back from her and adjusting the backpack straps on her shoulders.

"Don't be a jerk." You smiled as you heard Harry laugh behind you two. She was right it was one of your top rules for her, be a nice person.

"Share my toys with anyone who wants to borrow them." She continued the list and held up a perfectly painted purple finger every time she listed the next rule.

"Only you pick me up from school unless my teacher says so." Another finger popped into the air.

"No getting in cars with strangers." You nodded encouragingly, knowing she was doing a great job remembering everything you've drilled her on over the past month.

"And give momma lots of kisses cause she'll miss me a whole lot." She said holding up all five fingers before throwing herself at you, almost making you lose balance on your heels, as she hugged you tightly and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

"Good job baby now go have fun and learn lots of stuff." You smiled down to her as you stood and she turned making her way to the school door. She turned around one last time and waved goodbye to you and Harry before marching up the steps towards the door.

"Make good choices!" You yelled after her, your voice cracking a bit. You were having a harder time than you wanted to admit letting her go even if you knew she had to grow up at some point.

Your eyes started to blur with tears as you watched her baby blue backpack disappear through the double doors. You wanted so desperately to hide your emotions like you always did but the second Harry placed a hand on your shoulder a small sob escaped you. Making him pull you in for a full hug.

"She'll be fine." He said hugging you tightly and even though you didn't want to admit it, the smell of him was calming you down. You laid your forehead against his chest as you got yourself to finally stop crying but you pulled back suddenly.

"Shit, I'm going to have coffee all over my face for my first day." You sighed but laughed at the state of his shirt. "Really sorry about that. I'll have it dry cleaned. I'd buy you a new one but I know damn well it probably cost more than my rent." You pulled back from him and immediately missed the warmth even if he was covered in coffee.

He laughed, shaking his head, making his messy brown curls sway back and forth with the motion.

"Let's get you to work." He smirked, knowing that you couldn't turn down his help now. Knowing he finally had you talking to him for longer than 5 minutes. You gulped before nodding, after all it couldn't hurt to be friendly, right?

I adore you. - Jung Jaehyun (Part II)

genre: fluff, angst(?)

word count: 1.6k

warnings: curse words

a/n: why hello there... long time no post T-T i know, it’s been too long since this awaited update but i’m back to writing now! it’s been a busy couple of months and i haven’t had time to sit back and actually enjoy writing without getting so stressed :( i hope this update is enough to fill the void for now. but for sure after this one, it’ll pick up. do you think y/n and jaehyun will have a happy ending? or will it end in an oof situation? stay tuned my loves! 

with all my love, summer x

It’s December, everyone knows what that means, exam season. Though it’s the end of semester, Jaehyun’s stress levels were through the roof. He hasn’t felt like this in a long while, unprepared and panicked over the little exams he has. In order to ease his worries, he motivates himself to go to the library and make an attempt to get something done. He can’t stand sitting on his living room couch, aimlessly scrolling through his phone while simultaneously searching for a movie to watch. 

Procrastination is and always will be a bitch but hey, at least he got himself out of the house. Even if it was just for a cup of coffee and a couple of minutes of looking at his notes. He sighs as he catches sight of the grey and miserable building in his campus. How he dreads staring at the old and ancient site. Jaehyun exhales another breath and gets himself mentally prepared for what is about to come. 

“Death and a breakdown,” his mind answers. 

As expected, the library was full of students also trying to study for their exams. Some caught with panic in their eyes while they read through their notes quickly and a few with their hands on their heads, seeking comfort from what was an oncoming breakdown. Though it was a huge building with many spots to sit and settle down with books, laptops and notes, Jaehyun always preferred the third floor, where there was a hidden bunch of tables caught in the middle of a forest of books. Not a lot of people knew of this particular spot, the only ones who knew about it were you and a couple of other friends. 

What he didn’t expect is to see you there with your earphones on, highlighter in hand, studying. He’s momentarily distracted by your calm appearance. Jaehyun never thought that someone could look so gorgeous just by being focused. Your eyebrows are furrowed and your head slowly moves in time with the music you’re listening to. 

His heart sighs again. 

His breath caught. 

And his long legs lead him to where you are. 

Without realising, he taps your shoulder. 

You turn your head slowly, reluctant to look up from the notes you just wrote. Catching sight of Jaehyun you smile with your eyes. 

“Oh hey,” you say as you take one earphone out. 

“You didn’t tell me you were in the library today.” he blurts. 

“Yeah, I legged it out this morning and forgot to ask if you wanted to come. You know how it is during exam season.” you explain to him in a hushed voice. 

Jaehyun nods, and sets himself down at the empty seat next to you. He takes out his notes, laptop and pencil case. All ready to get himself stuck at all the information he needs to learn for the coming week. 

As he gets himself setted, it only causes you to watch him as he goes about his unknowing routine whenever he’s in the library. You smile slightly, and a light chuckle comes out of your mouth. Jaehyun, busy getting himself together, didn't notice. 

He sits himself down on the chair next to you with a highlighter in his mouth and a furrowed eyebrow looking at his books. He had no idea how the fuck he was going to get all this information in his head for his exam that was two days from now. You on the other hand, went back to studying soon after you saw Jaehyun settle down. It only took a couple of minutes to get your head back into focus and immediately forgetting that your friend was there in the first place. 

A couple of hours, maybe three or two, you sigh deeply. Jaehyun had heard it over the music he was listening to. He looks over to you with a questioning look. 

You mouth, “I need a break.” and a smile breaks out from your face. 

He smiles with you, “me too,” he gestures with his fingers. 

Using your hands, you point out towards the exit, quickly followed by a gesture that indicated you wanted to eat too. 

Jaehyun nods in agreement but you decide to leave your things there as the both of you would only be gone for an hour. 

Or so you thought. 

Jaehyun didn’t realise how much he loved to spend time with you. Having a simple meal with you at the nearest convenience store is enough to have him smiling for the rest of the night. 

Your plan only consisted of having a quick meal and a brief walk around the library. But no, here you were, lying down on the couches situated in the lobby of some random building in the campus. 

“Hmm… law building.” Jaehyun voices. 

“What?” you say, as you give your best attempt to look at him, too comfortable to get up properly.

“I think we’re in the law building-” 

“I honestly can’t give two shits right now. I’m in procrastination mode. Let’s not disturb my unsettled peace.” you interrupt, rolling your eyes. 

Jaehyun chuckles once more for the nth time that day. 

“Why is it that when exam season rolls around, I’m just so stressed to the point where nothing can ease my worries and anxiety.” you suddenly voice your thoughts out loud. 

“Maybe it’s because you’re scared of failing. I know how high your standards are of yourself. Sometimes they’re unrealistic but they kinda make sense. I mean, I’m the same too.” Jaehyun sighs, exhaustion finally catching up to him. 

You stay silent for a minute, or five. 

“I can’t help it. That’s just me.” you start slowly. 

He says nothing, only nodding to encourage you to keep going. 

“I mean okay, a lot of it mostly has to do with how I see myself. I want to do well but I can never reach that place where I want to be… Yes it’s just exams but I like feeling proud of myself. I like seeing those grades that I worked hard for. But the thing is, I’m also… how do I say it. I’m only motivated when someone is there with me. Company, that’s all I need to keep myself going.” 

He stares at you. Nothing again. 

“But not everyone can give you that company,” Jaehyun states. “Not everyone understands.” 

Just like that he knew. He knew exactly what you were saying and that was all you needed. That was what both of you needed. Though there was clearly a deeper meaning to the reason, Jaehyun didn’t pry. 

He’s patient like that, he waits for you to come to him. Just like everything else in your friendship. 

It's your turn to sigh, closing your eyes. 

“Exactly,” 

He gives you a small smile. 

“Not even my own boyfriend can give me that anymore…” you finish. 

Jaehyun’s voice is caught in his throat. 

Did you really just say that out loud? After all this time, all those moments you shared with your boyfriend, Jaehyun was the first person you told. He saw how you were like in the beginning of your relationship. 

Happy, wrapped around each other's fingers, and not to mention you spent every waking moment with him whenever you got the chance. What changed he wondered. 

He didn’t know, but you were also asking yourself the same question. “Where did it all change? When did it change?” 

Taking note of your furrowed eyebrows, he made the decision to change the topic. 

“So, any plans after the exams?” keeping the topic light, despite the heavy feeling you both felt. 

“I’m not sure yet. I wanted to check out some of the Christmas markets around the city. I still need to get a few presents for my family and Doyoung and his family too.” 

“Isn’t that your entire family then?” he chuckles. 

Your eyes widen in shock which makes you sit up from your earlier position. “Fuck. You’re right.” You palm your face in distress, “ugh no.” 

He laughs a little louder, patting your head to comfort you. 

“Stop it you’re not making this any better.” panic starting to rise on your face. 

“Don’t forget mine too.” he teases, grinning at you widely.

“Shut up idiot, I already got yours.” you say, getting back to your mental list quickly after replying.

This caught Jaehyun off guard once more. His heart did a little jump again. Dammit, how can a simple sentence from you have that kind of effect on him. 

“Now I’m stressed. Fuck you bro.” you tell him after finishing your mental list. 

“I can always help you shop, you know. I’m quite good with buying presents.” he suggests. 

“Maybe that can work. It’ll lessen my stress levels. Well either lessen them or add to them, really depending on what you’re like on the day.” you chuckle. 

He opens his mouth to say something, takes a deep breath to reply something smart but he stops and nods as he says, “yeah you’re right.” 

You both laugh out loud, relieving some sort of stress from studying all morning. 

“Should we head back?” you ask, looking to your side. 

“We haven’t gotten anything to eat yet.” he points out the obvious with a look. 

“Stop it, don’t look at me like I’m dumb.” 

He rolls his eyes. 

“You of all people know that Jae. Don’t start.” 

Jaehyun smiles widely.

“Oh no here it comes.” 

You put your head in your hands. 

“I- of all people know just how dumb you really are y/n.” he starts laughing louder, making the people passing by stare at him weirdly. 

You sigh, “I just knew you were going to say that.” smiling unknowingly. 

“Dude stop.” 

But he couldn’t, he loved to tease you like that.

He loved doing everything with you. 

Oh what life would be like if he was able to kiss the living daylights out of you. 

He’d be complete. 

He wouldn’t need anything else.

Just you. 

Flash Part 2

A/N lol I think I have to stop with the angst I’m beginning to get chest pain as I write ahhahhahahah

Decided to post this early, thank you for 300!

Harry comes home to see the reaction of his wife and the very messy video 

word count: 2352

Part 1! click here to waste more time and read¡!¡

Spending the night in a club, you would think your heart is beating fast because of the adrenaline and the body heat surrounding you. Spending the night in a club, you would think you can get away from all the external factors in your life that make you feel weighed down. Yet Harry was far from the satisfaction the club promised to give. Yes, his heart was beating fast but definitely not from the loud music. Yes, he did forget about his bad day in the office earlier today but now he’s got a bigger issue at hand.

While he was too busy swirling around the dance floor having the time of his life, he decided to make his way to a pretty girl and maybe get to know her better. Get to know her better could have ended Mr. Styles’ night in many ways and although he stopped himself from cheating on his wife, he still got dragged in the mud. You see, when Harry was still in college with his friends, he was a total frat boy and he did get drunk every other night with a new girl in his bed but as adulthood kept coming his way, his past life soon began to fade. Harry’s new life consisted of his company, his family and friends but most importantly his wife, Y/N. I guess this is why tonight was not only shocking for him but very disappointing. He’s ashamed of himself that not only was he tempted to cheat... he got caught in the stupidest way ever! You have to admit, approaching a random girl on a dance floor, you wouldn’t expect them to steal your phone and send your wife a video of you rubbing yourself on her while she moans! In reality, Harry was trying to grab his phone from her hands but he was scared that he might hurt her or harass her in some way. So, continuing where we last left off, Harry was still angry but more like shitting his pants

~

“Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck, Fuck!” Harry yells over and over again as he stares at his phone. He can’t take his eyes off the text messages with his wife. He thinks the more he stares at the delivered video the more likely it would disappear. Maybe, he’s drunk? Maybe, the video wasn’t actually sent? So, he taps the phone and raises it to full volume bringing it closer to his ear, He’s really praying that the music drowns the audio out but what difference would it make? He’s grinding on her for fuck’s sake! Harry is religious but he wasn’t much of the man who would practice his faith... now, however, seemed like the perfect time to start.

The unnamed girl was just leaning on the wall, seeming to look too bored at the picture she painted right in front of her. Did she take too many drinks tonight? Yes. Was she high too? Yes. Does she care that she’s practically a homewrecker now? No. “You know you can use other words to express your anger than fuck?” She laughs as Harry’s eyes narrow at her.

“Fuck you.” He replies almost instantly and leaves her by herself. He couldn’t make the time to look for his mates and bid his goodbyes and most certainly not was he going to say bye to this random chick that fucked up his whole night. As he makes his way to the exit, he calls his driver, Elliot so he can drive this poor man home.

The car ride home was probably the most crucial part of this all. Harry couldn’t stop staring at his screen. He wanted to see if the “delivered” would turn into “read” but knowing Y/N, her read receipts were off anyways. His mind was in a total frenzy. His head was fucking hurting as his thoughts yelled at him for being stupid while his heart was aching, aching in pain. He didn’t know what to do. He could have the hardest problem at his work right now but no level of stress can make him feel like his heart was going to be torn apart!

“Sir, we’re here.” Elliot says calmly as he observes his boss’ body language.

“Thank you, drive home safe Elly.” Harry replied rudely as he tries to stabilize himself as he slams the door shut.

“Baby!” Y/N calls as she stands in the front of the big doors of their lovely modern house. Harry’s eyes turn into hearts as he watches his girl standing there waiting for him in her tiny tank top and sweats.

“Hey.” He says coldly as he hugs her and keeps one arm around her waist as he guides her back inside their home. “I thought you were asleep love, it’s late.” He frowns. He looks into their living room. The TV was still on and her favourite wool blanket and pillow laid recklessly on their couch.

“Well yeah I know.” She pouts as she turns off the TV “But it’s also 2 AM and I was worried about you, you know. You never go out to clubs that often and I was scared something might happen to you.” She takes him into her arms and cuddles into him. She misses him a lot. Y/N silently takes his hands and holds them against her back as she leads them into their room.

~

Harry stands quietly as he watches his wife take his tie off and unbutton his polo. “Harry, you okay? Did you drink a lot?” She asks sweetly as she makes eye contact with her husband. She doesn’t stop unbuttoning though and when he doesn’t reply, all she can do is take the side of his face so she can caress it. Maybe, he’s just tired, she thought to herself. After Harry was changed, he charged his phone sitting on the bed, staring blankly at the wall. He couldn’t think, the guilt was eating him alive. Y/N was in the bathroom, doing her night routine and all Harry could think is fuck.

His wife walks in a couple minutes later. As she rubs the towel against her neck, she looks at her husband who’s been too quiet. Throwing the towel on one of their chairs, she makes her way in front of her husband. Without another word, she puts herself in his lap and brushes the hair away from his face. “Can you please tell me what happened?” She asks quietly. Harry kept his hands to himself and tried his best to not look her in the eyes. “Baby, you’re crying.” Y/N calls Harry out in schock. What could possibly happen? Tonight was supposed to be fun for him. She wanted him to spend time with his mates.

“Where’s your phone, Y/N.” He replies coldly. Y/N didn’t know how to react. He seemed angry and all.

“Ha-”

“Give me your phone!” He pulls her off him as he stands up quickly, looking around the room if he can find it. “Where is it! Where is it!”

“Why do you need my phone Harry?” Y/N soon began to grow frustrated as she watches the man in front of her loose his fucking mind.

“Where the fuck is your fucking fuck ass phone!” He screams as he’s full on heavily crying now.

“Baby, tell me why you need it!”

“Y/N please. Just give it to me!” He pleads as he finally makes eye contact with her. Both of their hearts dropping as Harry’s eyes and distance hurts them more.

“It’s on my nightstand, it died after I texted you. Haven’t been on it yet.” She pouts as she watches Harry quickly snatch it off the wireless pad. She was stuck. She didn’t know why Harry wanted to see her phone so badly. A part of her wanted to take the phone first, see what’s on it so she can know what he’s screaming at her for but another part of her knows she has nothing to hide.

Funny thing is it’s true she has nothing to hide but her husband did. The real question now is  if Harry was going to show her or just delete the message off her phone so she won’t ever see it again. She will never know about it.

Marriage is a tricky thing. With all the love and butterflies, the real foundation was trust and unconditional acceptance. In a second, Harry had to make a decision that could either make or break his marriage. Of course, he wanted this whole night erased from his memory. He didn’t want his love to know, he approached another girl! Yet the other side of him, his heart was screaming to tell the anxious girl in front of him. If she really loves you maybe she’ll stay? He thought. If she really was smart, she should probably leave now. You’re going to always fuck up one way or another. He thought again.

“Harry. Can we talk? What’s on my phone that you need it so badly? Why are you crying?” She walks towards him with fear in her eyes. She was scared. She thought when Harry came home, he would come back at a reasonable hour and make love to her as they fall asleep but instead, he’s acting cold and crying.

“I fucked up.” He cries and goes on his knees, clenching his missus’ phone to his chest. “I’m sorry baby you have to believe me!” He cries harder. Y/N eyes widen. He cheated on her...

“What the fuck. Don’t tell me… don’t tell me you cheated please…” She steps away from him, looking at the window. This was a never ending nightmare.

“I didn’t! I didn’t” her heart feels relieved. “But this girl took my phone and recorded me while she was moaning and she sent it to you.” She turns around to look at him.

“Why would she do that?” Y/N was far from confused.

“I approached her on the dance floor, she saw me reading your text and-”

“You approached her? Why?” Harry cries harder as he watches the disappointment in her eyes rise.

“Niall pointed her out to me because she looked like the type of girl I would go for back in college. I-I was drunk I didn’t mean to-” “You were going to cheat on me?!” Y/N finally screams in anger. She walks into their ensuite and slams the door. Harry quickly rushes to the door, finding it already locked.

“Baby please I was drunk… I- I would never cheat on you I swear to God! I fucking love you please don’t fucking leave me please!” He screams as the tears feel salty in his mouth. Call him over emotional but he never thought there would be a day where his fear of his wife leaving him would possibly be true. She unlocks the door with a cold face.

“Show me the video.”

“Baby I don’t-”

“Show me the fucking video Harry! God damn it!” She yells and snatches her phone back. She sits at the end of their bed. Harry watches her as he stands far from her, only staying near the window.

Y/N puts her volume to the highest level as she taps play. Messy, nasty moans can be clearly heard as she watches Harry too close to the unnamed girl. She watches his hands near the phone’s camera, as if he was pinning her hands there. His eyes glanced at the camera but quickly looked back at the girl. His mouth close to her ear saying give it to me repeatedly.

Y/N quickly deletes the 6 second video twice and shuts her phone. Harry looks at her with tears still in his eyes.Y/N however is just about to start her water works once again. “Harry come here.” He comes close to her and kneels in front of her.

“In this video, you really look like you were grinding on her.” She pouts as Harry rubs her thighs. He’s always quiet when they get into fights. It’s not like he felt weak or anything to retaliate but with Y/N, he learned to stay quiet and let her talk. He taught himself to speak little in their fights and let her express her anger when she’s mad. He taught himself that in their marriage, he’s ready to lose arguments as long as he doesn’t lose her. “If I’m being 100% honest with you. She seems like a whore who was too bored and she wanted to mess around with you. I trust you. I love you so much that I trust that this video is not proof you cheated on me. I love you.”

“Baby, I love you-”

“I’m not done.” She whispers quietly and draws a heart on his forehead with her thumb. “I’m a bit mad that you almost cheated on me. What happened if she didn’t take away your phone, would you be sober enough to realize what you were doing? Drunk or not, I’m the type of girl who would cushion you for that.”

“Baby, I’m sorry. Please I don’t know what was in me.”

“You don’t have an answer for going up to that girl do you?” She frowns as her fingers play with his hair. His tears fall again.

“Y/N, I love you fucking much. You’re right, I don’t have a reason but I promise you that I would never act on anything or think like that ever. That girl and the amount of shots I had… I felt so drunk that I couldn’t comprehend my decisions. I love you and I promise I would never put you and I in that position ever again.” Y/N leans down to kiss him, to reassure him that although she’s a bit mad she understands him.

“You think I’m going to let a whore ruin our marriage?” She laughs, “Baby, we’re playing the long game here and nothing is going to change in a flash. You got me and I got you.”

Stress Relief

Pairing: Syverson x OFC (Bek); August Walker x OFC (Bek); Syverson x Yennefer

Author’s Note: This takes place in an AU where Syverson, August, Geralt, Jaskier, and Yennefer are all members of a motorcycle club/bike gang. I have written another oneshot that takes place in the same AU called Let Him Watch with Geralt and Jaskier.

Summary: August has kept Bek tied up all day, and as a reward, he instructs Sy on how to fuck her.

Warning(s): cuckolding, cheating but it’s consensual (?), bondage

Word Count:

The White Wolves: Motorcycle Club

The Cast

August Walker: half-brother to Sy; second-in-command/enforcer; took on the heavy responsibilities of the gang after his “death” with Ethan Hunt; stays lowkey and doesn’t leave the compound unless necessary

Lucas “Sy” Syverson: half-brother to August; gang leader; retired from army after his 3rd tour and joined the gang, quickly rising to the top

Geralt Rivian: tactics specialist (teaches everyone how to operate handguns and how to beat people up); in a polyamorous relationship with Jaskier and some girl no one can ever remember the name of

Julian “Jaskier” Alfred Pankratz: in charge of gang inventory and negotiations (when needed); in a polyamorous relationship with Geralt and some girl no one can ever remember the name of

Walter Marshall: the police lieutenant with an unhealthy obsession with taking down The White Wolves after the bike gang “accidentally” killed Marshall’s daughter in a fire

Yennefer “Yenni” Venger: transport specialist, since she’s more obsessed with bikes than anyone in the gang; cousin of Jaskier and ex to Geralt, now married to Sy

Rebekah “Bek” Hunt: the gang’s whore with a secret knack for hacking; is August’s unofficial girlfriend, though she’ll get with any of the gang members if they ask (and they have)

...

The ropes are beginning to dig into Beks’ skin. She’s lost track of how long she’s been like this, how long it’s been since the gang left. Her throat is dry, her muscles sore from a late night of being fucked by August, but above everything she’s bored. There’s only so much time she can spend tied up--alone and waiting like the good whore she is--before she loses interest.

The day started a lot better than it ended. Beks woke up this morning to a pleasurable wetness between her thighs. Only when she’d opened her eyes and looked down had she realized it was August, eating her out with such skill that she was coming in her sleep. He’d held her down with his body weight and forced her to take everything he gave her. He ate her out for a good half hour, clearly trying to get his fill of her. She’d lost count of how many times he brought her to orgasm. When she thought he’d finally relent on her sore, swollen pussy, he pulled his cock out and began fucking her. She was in tears by the end, completely overstimulated, but the sight of her like that had only urged August to continue. He’d left her alone only because his gang--The White Wolves, which he was the second-in-command of--had needed to take care of some business with another bike gang. That’s when he’d decided to tie her up to his bed, leaving her naked body sore and trapped until he returned.

That was six hours ago. The men haven’t been back yet. The only noise heard in the compound had come from Geralt’s--and now Jaskier’s--girlfriend. What was her name again? Beks never talked to her (both of them were usually too busy being fucked to get to know each other) and didn’t feel as bad about not knowing the girl’s name as she probably should. All she knew about the nameless girl was that she’s the only woman, save for Yenni, that Geralt had ever really let himself fall for. He’d started sharing her with Jaskier lately, something that surprised Bek. Geralt was known around the compound for being territorial about the few things he let himself claim as his. But him and Jaskier were also best friends, so them divulging in a polyamorous relationship with a beautiful woman kind of made sense.

Beks used to be Geralt’s whore. Well, technically she wasn’t his. She was shared amongst the men of the gang, but Geralt had used her services the most. Especially when Yenni and Sy had first started dating; that had been a rough, lonely time for him. Beks had been happy to ease his hurting and warm his bed on nights when he needed someone. She loved talking to him late into the night, too. He’s such a closet genius about everything; it’s always fun to pick his brain about things.

But now she unofficially belonged to August. Once he’d faked his death publicly--he used to work for the CIA, but ran into some trouble with an agent named Ethan Hunt that August couldn’t recover from--he basically moved into the compound. Before that, Beks had only seen him a handful of times. But once he became a permanent resident here, he set his sights on her. She tried playing hard to get but he didn’t take no for an answer, and with a body like his and the dark, kinky mind inside his head, she couldn’t resist for long. And once he had her, neither one of them could get enough. He became her regular client. And though it had never officially been stated, she was more his girlfriend now than just the gang’s whore.

A door slams shut and Beks jumps, the ropes around her wrists burning her already-sore skin. Her heart begins to race at the thought of August returning to her. Only now does she realize how wound up she’s been. Despite him more than satisfying her needs this morning, she still craves for him to be deep inside of her again.

There’s voices in the hallway--Geralt’s, she thinks. And maybe Sy? They sound angry. She wonders what happened today. Butterflies make her stomach turn. August always fucks her so good when he’s pent up about something. She’s going to get it good tonight.

The door to his room opens and she tenses, already anticipating the marks he’s going to leave on her body.

“I’ve waited for you all day, just like you wanted--” she begins, then freezes when she sees Sy walk into the room. She’s completely naked, everything on display, and though he’s seen her naked a few times, he’s a married man and the leader of their group. He’s never anything less than professional and the thought of him seeing her like this…

He freezes in the doorway, unable to keep himself from taking in her naked body. Goosebumps rise on Bek’s skin as he eye-fucks her.

“Uh… Sy?” She clears her throat, suddenly catching herself. “I mean, Syverson? Where’s August?”

He appears in the doorway behind Sy, looking as coy as the devil. “Hey, beautiful.”

Beks looks between the two men. They’re half-brothers--same dad, different moms--and you can see the resemblance in their body shapes. They’re both tall and thick with muscle. It makes them intimidating to everyone, even people who are on their good side. But that’s where the similarities stop.

Sy’s beard has grown since Beks last saw him and there’s obvious stress in his eyes. She imagines that, if he’d let his hair grow out, he’d be losing most of it from the stress of being the gang’s leader. Beks is happy he has Yenni to go to; only someone as level-headed and strong as her could manage to hold Sy up through all of his hardships. The jeans and red shirt he’s in are the same Beks spotted him in two days ago. She wonders how much sleep he’s gotten in the past few days.

August, on the other hand, is freshly shaven save for his beard. There’s a glint in his eyes that wasn’t there when he entered the room. Looking at Beks always made him brighten up a little, even if he was reluctant to admit it. He wore the navy shirt of his that you normally sleep in. He’d taken it today because, after weeks of you wearing it every night, it now smells like you and not him, and he’d wanted something of yours to keep close while he dealt with gang business. It fits him well, and by that Beks means it’s now a size too small due to all the wash cycles it’s survived, and August’s muscles are clearly defined under the material.

“What’s going on?” Her voice shakes with uncertainty. If there was a meeting going to be held that she needed to be a part of, wouldn’t August have untied her by now? Why are they just standing in the doorway, watching her? And more importantly, why does she like it so much?

August comes over to the bed and leans down to check the ropes on her wrists. “Relax, baby girl.”

Somehow those three simple words manage to calm her. She relaxes on the bed.

“You’ve been so good today,” he tells her, “waiting for me like this. I know it was hard. You did good.”

Beks feels her face warm at the praise. That’s always been her weakness, which is probably the only reason August--cold, sadistic August--says things like that to her, because he knows the effect those words have on her, how it makes her so willing and compliant for him.

“And as a reward, I’m going to let Sy fuck you,” August continues.

Bek’s eyes go wide as she glances at Sy in the doorway, watching her carefully. “What? What about Yenni?”

The corners of Sy’s mouth perk up, like he’s amused at Beks’ response. “She said she wants me to do this with you.”

Yeah, right. Beks trusted Sy, but she knows every trick in the book that men like to play. She’s not about to fall for that. “I’m going to need to hear her say it.”

“He’s telling the truth,” comes Yenni’s voice as she rounds the corner. She’s wearing a leather jacket and tight jeans. Her black hair is pulled back in a high ponytail and her red lipstick brings attention to her mouth. She’s stunningly beautiful, not even Beks can deny that. Yenni throws her a small smile as she enters the room. “I have my own reasons for agreeing to this, but you have my approval.”

Beks swallows, suddenly nervous. It’s not like she’s never been naked in a room full of people, but it’s still unnerving. Something about this feels wrong. That’s probably why it’s making her so wet. She looks back at August, reading his face for any signs of uncertainty or hesitancy.

“I’m going to tell Sy exactly how to make you fall apart,” August tells her. “Does that sound good?”

The little gasp Beks makes gives away how she feels about it.

August smirks at her. “You’re already so wet at the thought of this, aren’t you? Such a fucking slut, just how I like it.”

Before Beks can say anything, August takes a seat on the couch in the corner. Beks can see his slight erection with the way his legs are spread. She’s surprised cuckolding turns him on so much, but more surprised he’s waited this long to try it out. Yenni takes a seat beside August, her attention solely on her husband.

Beks swallows. “You’re staying?”

Yenni’s blue-purple eyes slide to hers. “Of course. I have to tell you how to please my husband, where and how to touch him to make him fall apart.”

Only now does Beks begin to realize that this had all been planned. The three of them had known about this, anticipated this, planned for this, all without telling her. Beks looks back at August. He can see the betrayal and hurt in her eyes. She’s more than willing to do anything in the bedroom, but she needs to know first. And he just threw this all on her with no warning. There’s a flash of regret in August’s eyes. Beks knows that’s the only apology she’s going to get from him.

Sy makes his way to the bed, tossing his shirt off on the way. Beks can’t help herself from staring at the thick expanse of muscle that is his arms, chest, and stomach. Dark hair swirls around his pecs and abdomen, disappearing below his pantline. His skin is a deep tan and Beks can feel the warmth radiating off of him. The way he crawls over her makes her simultaneously slick with arousal and still with nerves.

“What’s your safeword?” August calls out, sensing Bek’s sudden unease.

“Hunt,” she replies, her gaze locked on Sy’s. “My safeword is Hunt.”

“And yours?” Yenni asks Sy.

His gaze travels from Bek’s eyes to her mouth, and then to something above her. “Purple,” he says just as he pulls out a pocket knife and cuts the ropes that had been restraining Beks all day. He turns to cut the ropes at her ankles, too.

“Spread her legs,” August demands of Sy.

He complies before Beks can even process August’s words, and with a sharp movement her legs are spread wide, revealing her dripping pussy to Sy. His eyes are hungry as he looks at the arousal dripping between her legs.

“Kiss her leg,” August says. “Start at the ankle and move up to the hip.”

Sy begins to leave a trail of soft pecks up her leg. It feels so good that goosebumps rise on Bek’s body and she shivers with pleasure. He massages her calf and thigh as he kisses her, making her body so relaxed that she practically melts into the bed. When Sy gets to her hip, he pauses, awaiting further instruction.

“Do it again to the other leg,” August tells him. “Don’t give her cunt a second of attention.”

Beks resists the urge to whine at his words, needing relief from the aching heat in her core, but she knows August will make Sy punish her if she complains. So she holds her whine in and watches with half-closed eyes as Sy moves onto her other leg. August knows exactly what this is doing to Bek. He knows nothing winds her up more than when he touches the inside of her thighs. That’s exactly why he’s making Sy do it now, because he loves watching her squirm as her pussy gets wetter and wetter, desperate for attention.

“Now run a finger between her folds,” August orders when Sy kisses his way up Bek’s other leg. “See how wet she is. If she’s not completely dripping you’re going to do it again.”

Beks lets out a moan as Sy runs a thick, calloused finger between her folds, soaking up enough arousal from her that it begins to drip down his hand.

“Oh, yeah,” he grunts out, his pupils completely blown, “she’s fucking soaked.” He addresses Beks as he says, “You like being teased, don’t you? Yeah, you’re a beggar, I can tell.”

Beks bites her lip, trying to keep from squirming. There’s little she loves more than dirty talk. And the way Sy is looking at her, looking ready to devour her, with that thick Southern accent of his… oh, fuck.

“Lie on your back, Sy,” Yenni says, standing from the couch and putting something in Bek’s hand. She turns it over to see that it’s a cock ring. “It’s your turn to get wound up.”

Though he seems a bit reluctant to submit so easily, the soldier in him can’t resist following orders, and he lies on his back beside Bek. She sits up and turns to look down at him, enjoying the change of positions as much as Sy hates it.

“Put that ring on him,” Yenni tells Bek, “and give him the blowjob of your life.”

Beks doesn’t have to be told twice. She moves to straddle Sy’s thick thighs, his strong muscles brushing against her sensitive thighs as she slides the cock ring down his thick shaft. He has a slight curve and a prominent vein on the underside of his cock, and though he’s impressive in both length and girth, August is a bit longer than Sy. Beks takes note of this, grateful that she’ll probably be able to fit him in her mouth more easily than she can with August.

Sy watches Beks anxiously, waiting for the moment she first puts her mouth on him. But any good whore knows that to give a good blowjob, you don’t start with deepthroating the guy. She leans down and begins to suck on his balls, no doubt sending waves of pleasure through his entire body. By the time she’s done, his cock is covered in his own pre-cum, the tip completely swollen and red. She gives the head of his cock a few teasing kitten licks before licking right up the center and letting his pre-cum fall on her tongue. Sy curses under his breath. Beks smiles, knowing she’s wound him up enough to really go to town now. She slowly takes all of him in her mouth, swirling her tongue along the bottom of his cock as she bobs her head up and down his length. His hips are thrusting up in no time, desperate for release. But even if she wanted to give it to him, that ring won’t let him reach his climax.

“Are you ready baby?” Yenni addresses Sy. “Do you want her tight little cunt wrapped around you?”

“Fuck yes,” Sy growls as his gaze darkens on Beks, looking at her like an animal ready to devour its prey, and the look makes Beks burn with want.

“Straddle him,” August commands Beks. “Sink down on him slowly. I want you to feel every inch of him entering you.”

Beks is quick to obey and adjusts herself on top of Sy. He’s thick with muscle just like August, and her legs spread far as she straddles his hips. His erection rests between her folds. The meeting point of both their sexes sends tingles through her entire body so intense that she can barely breathe. They’re both tense with anticipation. Beks moves up on her knees and wraps her hand around the base of Sy’s cock, holding it at her entrance as she begins to sink down on him. They both let out cries and moans of pleasure as she slowly pushes him all the way inside of her.

“Fuck,” Sy breathes once he’s fully bottomed out inside of her.

“What do I do now, Daddy?” she asks August, unable to keep her eyes off of Sy’s blue ones.

“I want you to bounce on his cock,” August says, “and not stop until you’ve cum at least twice.”

And so she begins.

***

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Gavin x Reader (Dreams Come True)

Title: Dreams Come True Words: 10,300 (sorrynotsorry) Genre: Emotional Hurt-Comfort, Fluff, Romance Characters: Gavin Reed x Fem!Reader + Nines (platonically) Warnings: Um, it’s super long, rushed in some places, completely unedited because, let’s be real, who has time to edit? and just chaotically structured writing. Authors Note: Really self-concious of this fic. It didn’t turn out anywhere near as good as I hoped it would. So catch my sobbing at Gavin’s desk. This is for @bring-me-a-coffee-dipshit because she’s been feeling down and no one hurts my baby! Me & my DCPD boys will protecc this gem. Also, I don’t know how to write long fics. Hence the chaotic messy structure of writing. I’m not a professional. I also don’t know how to write short fics either because this was supposed to be written done ‘n’ dusted within a day. And it took over a week! Probs should’ve put in parts. But I’m also lazy so... ENJOY!

Summary: Gavin gets a phonecall stating reader has been admitted to hospital due to fainting from stress. There’s only one thing that can stress reader out to such a point and Gavin is PISSED.

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇ Nothing ever seemed to feel good enough for anyone. You tried your best, but your best wasn’t good enough. You were in desperate need of a break because you could feel yourself breaking down. It was hard to find the strength to smile, and where you normally would smile, tears threatened to present themselves in the corners of your eyes. Luckily a deep, slow breath and an eye-roll to the heavens as if praying the pain away, seemed to keep those negative emotions at bay. The factor of your stress was the preparation of exams, and understandably so. Exams were always a stressful time for everybody, but it seemed to be the worst time for everything to come crumbling down around you.

You had a phone call from your Mother, who seemed to always find something to nitpick about you. Normally you could just shrug your shoulders at the end of the phone call and go about your day. Either you were high on stress already, or what your Mother said seemed to have hit too close to your heart, validating those fears you had; that you were destined to be a failure, your grandparents would be disappointed in you, your mother is currently disappointed in you (yes, she said that!), all because you decided to pursue business studies and get a degree in Business so that, one day, you could open a new bookstore and run it the way you want to; for it to be a unique and welcomed independent store rather than a big chain retail store. Your Mother would have much preferred you to pursue a more beneficial career, something like Politics, Medicine or Law. Something that was, unfortunately, too out of your league of knowledge. It wasn’t for lack of trying. You would have loved to have become a woman of medicine, a scientist even! You find all that fascinating and constantly reading journals, watching documentaries… but you are just unable to retain the information. It’s not because you’re dumb. It’s just how life is. But your Mother had no problem calling you out on it and quite plainly stating that you’re dumb. “I never expected to raise a child whose IQ is lower than the average person. What was the point in supporting your studies if you weren’t going to build a decent career for yourself? At least your boyfriend has a decent career. You should be disappointed and ashamed of yourself. Because I am.” That was the phone call of the morning that had started your bad day. You already had a bad week regardless. Stressing over studies and exams, and then dealing with rude customers at your local part-time job. You loved your job, you enjoyed helping customers but the rude ones… It really began to take its toll on you. And you didn’t want to whine to your boyfriend at the end of the day because he has much longer shifts than you, and his occupation is physically and mentally demanding. The last thing you wanted to do was bitch to him about your menial day when he could’ve been dealing with bigger shit. “Can’t believe someone as dumb as you is working in a place like this. The easiest job in the world and you managed to fuck up my order. I want to speak to your manager.” It was one tiny mistake that could have easily been rectified had this customer given you the chance to apologise and correct your mistake. No harm done. Instead, you were left speechless at the sudden onslaught of insults that your own mother basically spat at you hours earlier. You call your manager as per requested and allowed him to deescalate the situation while you excused yourself to assist other customers. At the end of the day you were called in to his office and even with the door shut, every word could loudly be heard in the staff lunch room as you were being berated over the incident earlier. The entire day had been an extremely bad one in general and you were more than glad to go home. Unfortunately everything began to drown you all at once. You didn’t even make it to your bus stop when your hands began to tremble violently, your legs felt like jelly, your heart was pounding so painfully in your chest that it was like knives were beginning to stab at you from the inside, noises were muted out yet you swore you could hear yourself struggling to breathe as well as hearing the blood rushing in your veins right in your ear. You didn’t even hear anyone call out when you collapsed.

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇

It was a slow day at the Precinct which was both a blessing and a curse; it meant no major crimes had taken place, but it also meant that Gavin was stuck with paperwork – something that he despised doing and would often neglect to do, and then in situations like today, he now has a mountain of neglected paperwork to get through. It was beginning to drive him mental, and oddly enough, Gavin was beginning to get on Nines’ nerves. Understand that Nines can deal with every annoying, conceivable flaw that Gavin has, but today Gavin had managed to push Nines over the edge. “Let’s go get some lunch. Out of the office.” Nines suggested, placing his pen down and leaning back against his chair, blue eyes looking over at Gavin. “Best idea you’ve had all day.” Gavin agreed a bit too quickly, though it didn’t come as a surprise to Nines. Typical that Gavin would agree to anything that would get him out of doing paperwork. Nevertheless, Nines hadn’t seen Gavin consume anything nutritious since arriving at the Precinct. This would be a great subtle way to get him to consume some sustenance. Gavin drove downtown, a little bit away from the Precinct just so he didn’t feel so closed-in with work; he wanted to enjoy his food not think about work. But as luck would have it, his phone rang. “You gotta be fucking kidding me! Can’t even take a lunch break!” came the grumbled as one hand left the steering wheel to answer the phone, only for his hand to be swatted away. “I’ll answer it, you need to abide by the road laws.” “Bite me. If it’s Fowler, remind him that he does have other fucking officers there.” It wasn’t Fowler. It was an unknown number, but local, according to the area code. “Detective Reed’s phone.” “Is this Gavin Reed?” “Detective Reed is currently driving. May I ask what the nature of the call is?” “I’m Doctor William Kent from the Detroit General Hospital, I’m calling to let Mr. Reed know that his partner is currently admitted under our care.” “Any injuries?” “No, she came through the emergency from fainting.” “Fainting? What was the cause?” “A panic attack most likely.” “We’re on our way.” “What?” Gavin asked as Nines ended the call but continued to hold the communications device in his hands to prevent Gavin from breaking the law of being on the phone while driving. He ought to upgrade his car a little, get a Bluetooth speaker that can accept incoming and outgoing calls. Or invest in a phone cradle at the very least. What was the point in becoming a Detective if you weren’t going to uphold the law? “Y/N has been admitted to the Detroit General Hospital under –“ “Why? What’s wrong? Is she hurt? Did they say anything?” Gavin interrupted in a mild state of his own panic, Nines noticing his stress levels rising a little bit. “Under the emergency of fainting from a panic attack.” Nines calmly finished despite being interrupted. Gripping the steering wheel of the car tightly to the point where his knuckles turned white, Gavin forced himself to keep to the speed limit as he took a left turn instead of going straight ahead to their original location. You weren’t injured, that was his main priority. You weren’t injured. But you fainted. You weren’t pregnant, it wasn’t a hot day, and as far as he knew you didn’t have a fever… It was just… Stress. He knew you were stressing over your studies but he didn’t think it was this bad. Was he really that shit of a boyfriend that he overlooked the clues of your stress levels? What kind of Detective doesn’t pick up on displays of body behavior? Gavin had been oddly quiet since the phone call and arriving at the hospital. Mentally beating himself up for not being as attentive to her as a boyfriend should. He was so caught up in a case that he took to working around the clock in order to bring it close. - “Babe? I gotta stay back. We’ve got a lead and we’re so close.” The dreaded phone call came through one night, but you weren’t surprised or frustrated. He had began coming home late at night so you knew he was working on a case that required a lot of his attention as well as priority of needing to bring it to a close before anything more bad comes of it. “It’s fine, Gavin. Honestly. Just make sure you eat something. Coffee isn’t food.” “You sound like Nines.” “Well maybe you should listen. You’re a good Detective but you’re a shit listener.” You both chuckled at the light teasing before he needed to get back to work. “I love you Gavin.” “Yeah. Yeah… I love you too. G’night Babe.” “’Night.” You both hung up and Gavin remembered how lucky he felt to have someone who understood him and his position. Granted, he didn’t have to stay back and pull an all-nighter, but when he had a lead and he was on a roll, it was best to let him go. His previous partner didn’t understand and he would often come home to a pissed-off partner, yelling arguments ensued… But with you, he came home to a home-cooked meal wrapped up in the fridge so all he had to do was microwave it, sometimes there was a little note on the fridge of microwave door that simply read ‘I love you.’ One time you even put a note on the coffee machine with two large letters, ‘NO’ and a frowny face. Guess you caught on to the fact that he’d come home and have a coffee before bed. A bad habit you were trying to get him out of. “If you want something that tastes sweet but bitter, come have me.” You teased when you first told him off for having coffee so late at night. Precinct nights are fine, you understood the need for caffeine then, but when he’s home – that’s a solid ‘no’. He had tilted his head back and let out a deep, gorgeous laugh. His eyes crinkling from the wide grin he wore on his permanently exhausted features, “Babe, there is nothing bitter about you. I don’t think you even know how to be ‘bitter’.” You definitely won that argument as his hands rested on your hips and pulled them to his. His smiling lips brushed against yours before taking you into a deep kiss, only to pull back ever so slightly, “Mm, definitely no bitterness.” “No bitterness?” “Only sweetness.” Your own lips turned up into a playful smirk, eyebrows quirking up ever so slightly, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pulled him down into another heated kiss, murmuring “I know something else that’s sweet.” “Oh yeah?” “Yeah.” You breathed against his lips as you began to tug him out of the kitchen. - “Gavin!” A stern voice interrupted the males thoughts as he was still tightly gripping the steering wheel, car idling despite already pulled into a parking bay. Head quickly turned to glance at Nines, blinking as Gavin came back to his surroundings with a sinking heart. “I let her down, Nines.” He sighed out the burdened confession as his hands dropped from the wheel, one hand pulling the gear stick into ‘park.’, the other flicking the engine off before both hands dropped into his lap. Nines LED flickered to yellow as he watched the storm of emotions engulf Gavin, who was staring guiltily ahead at the looming building of the hospital. “You did no such thing, Gavin. I can’t always tell when you’re stressed out until you snap. It doesn’t make me any less of a competent colleague to you, does it?” “Friend.” Gavin corrected but sighed softly as he agreed, “No, it doesn’t. But…fuck!” Nines quietly waited until Gavin’s strew of emotions calmed down. Sometimes the more Nines tried to reason with the Detective, the more angered Gavin became. He found it beneficial to wait until Gavin was calm enough to see reason. “Alright. Let’s go. You comin’ with me or what?” “Only to protect the medical faculty should you lose your temper at them.” Nines made up the half excuse. Partially knowing that if something involving Gavin’s lover ‘girlfriend’, there’s a high percentage that Gavin would lose his patience with the medical team over things he didn’t understand. Such a situation being if they needed to keep her in for a few nights, Gavin might argue about taking her home, not understanding their reason. At least with Nines there, he can easily diffuse any situation before Gavin escalates to an annoyingly level of inconvenience. As they entered the hospital, Gavin made a beeline for the reception desk. “Can you tell me where Y/N Y/L/N is?” Nines caught up to Gavin just as directions were given. She wasn’t too far. Second floor. At least she wasn’t in the opposite wing of the hospital. Taking the elevator to the floor, Nines quietly accompanied Gavin as the two began the pathway to where your room was located. The only times Nines spoke was when he called Gavin’s attention and gestured to the correct room number. As the two walked past the window where the blinds were open, they could see you sitting on the bed, cross-legged but curled in on yourself, staring at the white blanket. Your face void of emotion but also looking like you’re about to burst into tears at any given moment. Nines would be lying if he said that what he saw didn’t affect him somehow. Something tugged painfully at his synthetic heart. Which was odd because he knew his systems were running at 100% perfect stability. The flicker of his LED from the calm blue to a violent red was enough physical evidence to give away that the stoic RK900 android was worried about you. This was not you. You were normally cheerful, bubbly, hardly ever without a smile unless you were deep in thought or focused on a task. Even being given something as simple as a single flower or a cup of tea would cause you to smile for hours. You cherished the little things. Nines thought you were just a clueless naïve human being when he first met you. Little did he realize, at the time, that there was nothing naïve about having a heart of gold. For the heart you carried brought so much joy to Gavin, made him more tolerable in the workplace, and seemingly a better and healthier person. You were a good influence on him. And Nines couldn’t help but notice how everyone welcomed you when you stepped into the Precinct. They were all happy to talk to someone new, get some stories of an adorable domestic Gavin… To put it simply, you were a walking ray of sunshine. Even Nines found himself feeling elated whenever he saw you. Nines stood to the side, allowing Gavin some privacy with you as he entered the room with a gentle rap of his knuckles against the door. “Babe?” ◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇ You lifted your head at the sound of a voice that always felt like home to you. The first words to you spoke was a heartbroken plea, “Gavin? God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” Immediately Gavin was by your side. “Hey, hey. No. No, you’re okay. It’s okay.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, taking your hand and enveloping it in his. Your other hand had a strap around the wrist and finger, attached to a machine as it monitored your pulse rate. You also had two sticky pads to your chest with thin wires popping out from the neckline of your work shirt, monitoring your heartrate.

“You got me out of paperwork so, y’know, thank you.” He murmured playfully, trying to lighten your mood and bring a smile to your face. But it didn’t work and he certainly didn’t expect it to. You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t say anything. Sometimes it was like everything shut down and plunged you in a numb state, and then the next minute you felt like you could burst into tears and drown your soul beneath the floods. Nines watched from the window as you collapsed your head against Gavin’s shoulder, hiding your face in his neck. You didn’t appear to be sobbing but your shoulders sagged in defeat. Gavin’s torso twisted slightly to accommodate the new position as he wrapped his arms around you, murmuring softly in your ear. (“It’s alright. ‘M here. I’ve got you.”) Occasionally pressing kisses against your forehead. It fascinated him the way Detective Reed worked. He was a smart-mouthed asshole at work, probably less since you’ve been with him. Heavy sarcasm. Matching quip for quip with Nines. Dangerously short-tempered. Definitely plays the role of ‘bad cop’ in the interrogation rooms. But with you… it’s hard to see him as the short-tempered grumpy Detective he’s known to be. There’s a new gentle side that Nines knew he had but never saw it. Until now.

There was a knock to the door as the Doctor approached, the nursing staff most likely have informed him that your emergency contacts have arrived. You immediately pulled away and curled back in on yourself as Gavin stood up to shake hands with the Doctor. “Detective Reed, I presume? Doctor Kent.” This time Nines entered the room now that the Doctor was present and blue eyes immediately dropped onto your huddled figure. Your cortisol levels were high, your serotonin levels were low. There was clearly more than just stress, hints of depression perhaps? None of the medical staff seemed to have picked up on that. Mind, Nines wasn’t programmed to read a human body psychologically, so he wasn’t equipped to make such bold conclusions. “I’m relieved to see your unharmed, Y/N.” Nines gently greeted you, trying to bring a softer tone to his usually sharp matter-of-fact tone. You offered a small smile but Nines could see your bottom lip quivering and the smile and gaze immediately dropped, going unnoticed by both Doctor and Detective as the two conversed, Nines bringing his attention back to the conversation. “How’s she been sleeping?” “Uh, decently. She studies throughout the night. Not coming to bed until near midnight.” “What time does she wake up in the mornings?” “5 or 6ish, I guess.” “The healthy amount of sleep an average person should be getting is 8 hours. 7 at the bare minimum. The lack of sleep that, I’m assuming has been ongoing, leaves her in a sleep-deprived state on top of studies for exams. As a Doctor, I know how grueling studies and exams can be. So I know that her lack of sleep isn’t helping in any way whatsoever to her studies. Any other stressful factors in her life? At home?” “Not that I’m aware of.” Gavin looked over at you but you only ducked your head out of his line of sight. He didn’t bother asking about any more stresses, knowing you wouldn’t be up to talking. The Doctor shifted on his feet as he came to a final conclusion. “I would prefer to keep her in overnight under observation. Prescribe a mild sedation to help her get a peaceful night’s rest.” “No!” Your small voice quickly interjected, shooting down the idea as your head snapped up and panicked eyes set upon the Doctor,  “I want to go home.” Your E/C left the Doctor’s and fell on your boyfriend, silently begging him. “Please?” It was like a fist hand squeezed at Gavin’s heart and then proceeded to stab it against a sharp knife. Never, in the past two years of being with you, has he ever seen you look so broken before. His gaze dropped from yours and back to the Doctor, “Can I not bring her home?” “It is with my professional opinion that we do keep her in overnight.” “You are within your rights to go against medical advice, Detective.” Nines quietly spoke from the side, having noticed your stress levels increased drastically at the thought of staying here.  His cold blue eyes seemed to have softened a little as he looked over at you before, also, dropping his gaze on the Doctor. “If I may interject, it might be beneficial to bring Y/N home. Her stress levels might decrease once she’s in a familiar environment that she deems comforting and safe. I can offer to stay the night to keep an eye on her levels. If they reach critical condition, we can bring her straight back.” And this is why Nines came along. He made a compelling argument against the Doctor whereas Gavin would’ve lost his temper. Nines could already see the panic flash in the Detective’s eyes with the thought of leaving a distraught girlfriend at the hospital overnight. That panic would immediately flicker to anger within the flick of a switch. “Very well. On the proviso that her levels are to be regularly scanned. If there are signs of no improvement, you are to bring her straight back.” “Of course.” It was settled then. The Nurse was called in by the Doctor to disconnect you from the being hooked up to the machines while Gavin walked out of the room (dropping a kiss on the top of your head with a murmured ‘Be right back’) so he could sign the DAMA form. (Discharged Against Medical Advice). Nines watched as everyone left the room, leaving you and the RK900 unit alone. You were still sitting on the bed and your gaze dropped to your hands in your lap. Under the ever-watchful gaze of Nines as his blue eyes studied you for a moment before breaking the silence. “You still seem quite withdrawn.” His tone was quite gentle, surprising you (though you didn’t show that you acknowledged his efforts) and also surprising him. You ducked your head further away from his gaze, your hair finally falling down around your face to obscure your features from view. “I don’t deserve him.” You whispered, your hands beginning to fidget, picking at your nails, rubbing your fingers together, fingernails pressing hard against your skin to the point where you were leaving little crescent moon indents. Your Mother’s words echoing loudly in your head. Unfortunately, your fall to the ground didn’t cause amnesia so you remembered everything about that phone-call. Your fidgeting was a sign that another panic attack was coming on and Nines seemed to have picked up on your stress levels as he came over and sat down on the edge of the bed. His larger hand reaching over and placing it over your fidgeting ones. A gentle squeeze of reassurance was given. “Quite the contrary Y/N. Gavin is the one who doesn’t deserve you. But I know he’s quite lucky to have you. I must say I’m grateful you’ve entered into his life. He’s become much less insufferable.” A very quiet whimper escaped your lips, that if the RK900 didn’t have highly incredible audio sensors, he would have easily missed it. He didn’t fully turn to you, remaining his usual professional self but when he felt two hands grip his tightly, he glanced down. Your fingers were white with how tightly you were holding on to him just as how tightly you were holding onto the lid of emotions that were threatening to spill forth. Ever so slightly, Nines leant forward a little – just a little, but enough for you to know he was silently offering an embrace if you needed it. And you did. You dropped your head into his shoulder and let out a deep sigh. “He could do so much better than me. I’m just…” you struggled to find the right words to describe just how despicable you are compared to many other successful and far more beautiful women out there are. “Perfect.” Nines supplied as his free hand wrapped around your upper arm/shoulder. “You are incorrect to state that he can do better than you. You are the better. Detective Reed is quite out of his league with you.” You merely scoffed at hearing this but the words were comforting to the voice that voice inside your head that was telling you otherwise. There was nothing more Nines could do or say. He wasn’t equipped to be dealing with psychological matters of a sensitive nature such as the situation you’re currently in, so he opted to remain silent and just hold you in this semi-embrace.

◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇ Gavin had finished with the paperwork outside and stopped in his tracks as he walked past the window and saw Nines holding you. Kind of. It looked awkward to Gavin but you seemed content in the embrace. There was no pang of jealousy from Gavin at seeing Nines holding you (why would there be? Nines and you weren’t interested in each other like that), however, Gavin couldn’t help but marvel at how attached Nines had become to you. The RK900 became intrigued with your cheery personality and the way your presence seems to melt all the insufferable behavior away from Gavin. Yours and Nines friendship deepened the more you and Gavin hung out together with Nines, getting to the point where Nines would call you for advice either on Gavin or to do with women (what’s the best approach etc.) most likely related to crime cases with female victims since neither he nor Gavin were the best people to deal with emotionally distraught women. Sometimes you’d even ring Nines to ask about Gavin (if he came home in an exhausted or closed-off mood). Gavin would never have picked Nines to be the one to settle with a bond of friendship other than himself (not to sound vain). Phone ringing in his pocket, Gavin stepped away from the window – probably should give Nines privacy since always seems to be allergic to initiating (or participating) in physical interaction that isn’t violent. He didn’t even get a chance to greet the caller when Fowler’s voice immediately screamed down from the other end of the receiver. “Where the hell are you two!?” “Technically on our lunch break.” “Well get your asses back here and do some of that damn paperwork! It’s overflowing on your desk like Niagra-fucking-falls!” Normally Gavin would hit back with a quip that would leave others to wonder how the hell he hasn’t gotten himself fired yet, but instead his voice was oddly calm, probably because he was also in the hospital hallway. “I’m at the hospital. Something personal came up.” The voice on the other end dropped its raised tone as concern laced through, “Everything alright?” “Yeah. It’s just… personal. Gonna need a couple of days. Nines will be back tomorrow.” “S’fine, s’fine. It’s slow here anyway. Just keep me in the loop.” “Yeah… yeah, thanks.” “Take care, son.” With that, Gavin hung up and slipped his phone back in his pocket, relieved that Captain Fowler didn’t pester with questions. It’s not like Gavin took days off anyway – only when forced to by the Captain himself. One of the excused had been; ‘Reed, you’ve been working non-stop and you’re pissing me off. Go home and stay home for a couple of days.’ He walked past the window to see Nines standing by the bed with his hands behind his back, awaiting for Gavin’s return, as though he hadn’t just shared a gentle embrace with Y/N. Stepping into the room, Gavin walked over and placed a hand on the back of your shoulder in a gentle touch, “C’mon.” his voice so soft that if you weren’t in such a state, it would’ve melted your heart. Hands wrapped tightly around your arms as though you were giving yourself a hug, you leaned into Gavin’s side as he guided you out of the room with his arm around your mid-back. Nines following behind as he watched the two of you. You still seem quite withdrawn and quiet. Your levels seemingly decreased since leaving the room and Nines was satisfied he put forth the offer to bring you home. It was silent as they walked out of the hospital and to the car. Gavin occasionally peering over at you but you kept your head down with your gaze on the ground. He felt so out of his depth right now. He was worried about you, actually worried about you. And because he was so worried about you, he worried further that he would say the wrong thing or not be able to help you. He was gentle and kind with you, but he was still the blunt-speaking Detective he’d always been. It didn’t help that this is the first time you’ve ever been this bad. The worst you’ve ever done was breakdown and cry while stressed. All of which can be fixed with hugs and soft murmurs. That was easy. This wasn’t. This required a gentle and fragile approach. Something that Gavin will truly fuck up somehow. Yet the figure following behind them thought otherwise. Had he been able to hear Gavin’s thoughts, Nines would reassure him that he is the perfect person to handle this. Nines has witnessed the true gentleman that Gavin is when he’s around you. He knows Gavin is capable of empathy and sensitivity. Unlocking the car, Gavin opened the door for the backseat behind the driver, his hand leaving your back as you lowered into the seat. He left the door open momentarily as he popped the trunk of the car and pulled out the blanket you made him keep in their in case of emergencies. - “You don’t even have a first aid kit in your car?!” you queried as you and Gavin made your first shopping trip together and were placing grocery bags in the back of the car. “No. Why would I?” “Gavin! You’re a Detective!” “So?” “So…shouldn’t you have one!?…what if someone was in trouble?” “That’s what paramedics are for Y/N.” “You’ve got first aid training, right?” “Yeah they make us do that shit every two to three years.” “Well you ought to have a first aid kit in the back of your car in case of emergencies. It’s only a matter of moments between life and death for some. Paramedics may not arrive in time and you could be the one to make that difference.” Gavin went quiet for a moment as he mulled over the point you made, sighing excessively loudly (which made you giggle because it was one of those defeated sighs where he knew you were right and rather than telling you you’re right, he just sighed it out.) “Alright. I’ll get one if it’ll make you happy.” “And a blanket.” “Why the fuck would someone need a blanket?” “In case of situations like shock, or it’s in freezing cold temperatures.” Another sigh and then a defeated, “Fine. Fine. You win. But you better kiss me for this.” You grinned and did as he asked, leaning over you brushed your lips against before his hand pressed against your lower back, pulling you against him as his lips captured yours. “Mm, that’s what I thought.” He murmured. You could feel his grin through the kiss and you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh against his lips. - Nines ever-observant eyes watched with curiosity as Gavin retrieved the blanket from the trunk of the car, shaking it out of its folded-up state and brought it around to you. It smelt a bit musty from being cooped up in the dark back of his trunk but you didn’t mind as he draped it over you. “Guess you were right, huh?” he smiled softly as he tugged it around your sides. You could only nod. It was like you hit such a numb state. You couldn’t share in his humor, you couldn’t bring yourself to reciprocate his smile. You could only be glad that you did something right for once. With your door finally closed and you were safely situated in the backseat, Nines finally moved from his spot and slid into the passenger seat just as Gavin slid into the driver’s seat. Unlike when he and Nines left the Precinct, Gavin was much more careful in reversing and driving out of the hospital carpark. Mostly because you were in the vehicle. The drive home was quiet. Gavin constantly checking his rearview mirror to keep an eye on you. Occasionally you both made eye contact and you would always look away in shame. He deserved so much better than you. Perhaps your mother was right. Look how you’re inconveniencing him. He’s had to take time off work because of you. “Would you like me to inform Captain Fowler of your sudden absence?” Nines quietly asked, purposefully keeping his voice at a gentle lull so as to not disturb you. “I’ve already called him. Said you were coming in tomorrow though.” Eyes focused on the road, Gavin answered Nines without breaking concentration, his voice equally quiet. “Is that wise? An agreement was made between the Doctor and myself that I would ensure Y/N’s safety outside Hospital Grounds.” “So? S’not like you got it in writing.” “No. I did, however, record the conversation.” “Without his consent? Why, Nines, you devil, you.” Gavin quietly joked. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the statement, deeming an action unnecessary, Nines decided to correct the name-calling, “I’m an android, not a devil. Regardless, that agreement still stands.” “Look, Nines, we’re about to crack this case. Let’s face it, you’ll work quicker when I’m not there. You got Anderson and that annoying plastic prick as backup.” Gavin turned the corner and was only now three streets from arriving home. “Very well.” You heard the entire conversation, they weren’t being quiet in an attempt for you not to overhear, they were being quiet out of respect for your already quiet state. But you did readjust yourself, sinking further beneath the blanket and leaning your head against the window. The hum of the vehicle’s engine, the flickering of the indicator and the quietened toned voices that were usually loud and bickering (mostly Gavin instigating the arguments) was enough to make you drowsy with the heavy onslaught of emotions you were fighting back. ◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇ You hadn’t realized you were home until your door opened and you jerked in surprise. “Shit, sorry babe. You okay?” You hummed softly as you undid your seatbelt and climbed out of the car with the blanket wrapped around you. Immediately Gavin’s arm came around the small of your back and guided you up to the house. “Would you like a cup of tea Y/N? I’ve heard herbal teas are beneficial in calming ones nerves.” Nines asked as he followed up behind you and Gavin, hands behind his back. You only shook your head, “I think I just want to go to sleep.” You muttered and felt Gavin’s hand rub your back in comfort. The small home that you and Gavin shared was always warm and welcoming. Unlike bare yet always messy apartment Gavin had prior to you coming on the scene. There were artwork on the wall, photos in frames displayed on different types of shelving, alongside little ornaments that you and Gavin collected over time. Mostly things you found cute whenever you would visit a market or something. Occasionally something on display would be from Gavin; “I saw this and thought you might like it.” Had been his way of telling you he’s thinking of you and taking an interest in what you like. And because he wanted to spoil you with something you’d like personally rather than just the average gift of jewelry.

Gavin took you down the hall while Nines stayed in the living room, waiting Gavin’s return. “How are you feeling?” Gavin murmured as he shut the bedroom door and walking around you to pull back the blankets of the bed on your side. You merely raised your shoulders in a small shrug. Today had escalated drastically for you; physically, mentally and emotionally. You climbed into the bed, still wrapped in the blanket from the car as an additional comfort. You snuggled down with the blanket being tugged right up around your chin by Gavin. He had no idea what the fuck to do but he could only hope this would work. His hand came down to rest on the curve of where your hip was hidden beneath the blanket as he crouched down on his quarters. His other arm resting above your head as his fingers gently caressed your hair from your forehead. “What the hell happened to you today, Y/N/N?” “I don’t know… stress, I guess.” “I’ve seen you stressed, babe. This isn’t that. There’s something more. Something you’re not telling me. What is it?” Damn him and his Detective skills, able to pinpoint when someone wasn’t telling the truth. You licked your lips in nervousness as you stared at his grey orbs. “Can I ask you something Gavin?” “Yeah. ‘Course.” “Do I…Do I, um… Do I…” your voice wavered as you stammered your words, the remaining question was whispered because you were barely holding on now, “disgust you? Make you ashamed to be with me?” His fingers stopped their ministrations, his face twisting into a mix of disbelief and anger. “What the fuck Y/N?! No! Where the hell did this all come from?” Just like that, the gates to the dam opened and the tears fell uncontrollably from your eyes, your own features twisting into so much hurt that it tugged painfully at Gavin’s heartstrings, already filling with anger and who caused you to be so distraught. A sob broke out and you turned your face into the pillow, away from his gaze as your body violently trembled beneath each sob that tore out. “Shit. Hey, hey, hey…S’alright. It’s alright.” Gavin quickly moved to sit in the small space on the edge of the bed. Everything that had built up for weeks, only for the phone call from your mother to finally be that tipping point for you came bursting out. You felt one hand grip whatever part of you he could reach, and the other caressing the material of the blanket that was covering your body. “I’ve got you, babe. I got you. You’re alright. ‘M right here.” Soft words were murmured as he continued to caress your back in comfort but his efforts hadn’t even managed to calm you down at all. “Babe, can you look at me?” “No….” you wailed into the pillow, curling further in on yourself. Quietly adding an “I can’t!” between sobs. Your cries were really getting to Gavin and he had to find the strength not to explode in anger and hunt down whoever it was that hurt you like this. “’M right here Y/N. I’m not going anywhere. Talk to me.” Gavin’s voice rose a little to be heard over the volume of your cries but still, somehow, remained a gentle tone about it. He barely managed to catch it but he heard it loud and clear, “I’m a disappointment.” “Who said that?” “Everyone! My boss! Customers! My own M-Mom!” Gavin was well aware what your mother was like. What your family was like. They expected too much from you and had you at high standards that were impossible for you to achieve. Not everyone was built to become a surgeon or a firefighter, or even a Detective. At first, he tried to reason with himself that they just wanted the best for you but it was clear that they bullied you – and he swore that sometimes they would do it for fun. He lost all respect for your family and wanted to shield you away from them as best as he could without it falling into the ‘possessive/alienating’ category of being in a relationship.  It was part of the reason he asked you to move in with him. Give you an offer of a new life. Hopefully ceasing as much contact with the toxicity of your family. “God-fucking-damnit!” The curse fell past his lips before he could even catch it, startling you and causing you to curl into a tight ball – how that was even possible, he had no idea. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry for everything!” “Fuck. No. I… No, I’m not mad at you… Fuck, babe… I, uh…” His hand hovered midair, debating whether continuing to offer you comfort was the right course of action. He had sent you into such a pleading state with his verbal outburst, he didn’t want to be the one to add to that. “I’m not worth it. Any of it. You deserve better than me.” Without thinking, his hand came down and rested firmly on your shoulder. Sliding off the bed, he resumed his position of crouching down to peer at you since you were curled into a tight fetal position. “No.” he firmly stated. “You are worth everything to me, Y/N. Everything. Don’t you dare think you’re not.” He dropped his head, muttering under his breath, “I’m going to fucking kill that woman.” It was no use. Whatever Gavin said to you, you only cried through his words. You hadn’t meant to be so rude but you couldn’t calm down. This was years and years of your Mother’s verbal abuse coming out. The more you cried, the more Gavin swore bloody murder. It was hard; he wasn’t the type of guy who knew the right things to say. He was far from the ‘ideal perfect boyfriend’ that women seem to desire. But he was doing all he could, and all that he knew how. That also includes staying with you until you fell asleep. Your body stopped trembling but his hand never ceased those comforting motions against your frame. Gentle hushing every now and then emitted past those lips that were known to swear like a sailor and argue with anything that moves. Gavin had since resumed his original position; crouched by the bedside, one hand caressing the hair back from your now tear-stained face, the other rubbing circular motions in comfort – which had now ceased to where his thumb was just gentle caressing while his hand remained firmly against the curve of your hip. He waited until you were asleep before he left, gently tugging the blankets around you, his gaze lingering on your sleeping form – features now relaxed and set into a peaceful slumber as if you didn’t just suffer a massive breakdown. The moment he turned from you, however, there was a murderous rage in those stormy grey orbs of his. Quietly shutting the door behind him, he walked out to Nines who was holding a framed photo of the three of them. This was definitely your doing. Gavin would never place photos up, particularly personal ones. But you insisted, and you really adored the one of you three. It was just a dumb selfie at the beach with your faces squished together in order to fit in the frame. It was silly, and one of the very rare times that Nines stepped out of his level of comfort from his professional appearance to just be ‘normal’. His LED was circling the soft amber glow, occasionally red would flicker through. He was quite concerned about you. Particularly when he heard the heartbroken wails filter through the shut door. Audio components picking up some of the conversation as he eavesdropped a little, however, he decided that this was one of those times where you could not be comforted. A shame that you weren’t under hospital care, they could have given you a sedation to avoid the mess of emotions. Perhaps with the decent night sleep, you could wake up feeling more refreshed and a stronger state of mind to begin the day’s problems. Which is what he hoped would work for you now. Hearing the door click shut, he placed the photo back on the shelf and waited for Gavin to reappear. “How is Y/N?” Gavin didn’t even look at Nines as he pulled out his phone from his pocket and thumb began scrolling through the screen of contacts. “Cried herself to sleep. Fuck all I could do for her.” “Surprisingly her cortisol levels are back to a regular state but there’s been a significant drop in her serotonin levels.” Nines reported as he followed Gavin into the kitchen. Glancing up from his phone in annoyance, wanting to just get the person he was looking for on the phone and rip into them. “What?! English, Nines.” “I was speaking English, Detective. To put it simply, her stress levels are back to normal but she’s taken quite the plunge with her happiness.” “Yeah, no shit Sherlock. You seen the state she’s in? She’s far from happy. She’s hurtin’ Nines. And there’s fuck all I can do for her. And this wouldn’t have happened if her fucking mother kept her goddamn mouth shut.” “I’m afraid I’m not following.” “I couldn’t get much out of her but…” Gavin went on to explain just the real level of nastiness your Mother can be. And whenever there’s a family get-together, they all put their two-cents worth it. And not in a supportive manner either. They were jabs, accusations, insults, remarks… playground bullying that was clearly taking it’s toll on you. “…Which is why I asked her to move in with me. To get her away from all this bullshit as much as I can.” “I see.” “Enough’s enough. This ends now.” Phone gripped in his fist, pointer finger came out and jabbed at the air towards the ground, emphasis his words before he extended his arm out and pointed towards the door of where you were sleeping, “Because the next time this happens, I don’t want to get a phone call saying Y/N’s topped herself.” Nines would have interjected, maybe offered for Gavin to calm down while making an irrational phone call but from what he had just been informed with regarding your family, well… they had this coming. Nines was standing by for… moral support. And to also make sure Gavin doesn’t say something stupid that could jeopardize your relationship with him or his job as an officer of the law. Finally hitting the green call button on his phone, Gavin waited for your Mother to pick up. When the line connected, he offered no greeting and go straight to the point,

“What did you say to her?!” “Nothing that any other Mother wouldn’t give advice to their child.” “You call that advice!? Do you have any idea what you’ve fucking done!?” “I gave her a reality check, Mr. Reed. Get her to pull her head in and do something good with her life.” “No. You gave her a hospital check. You’ve fucked her up.” “Excuse me?” “You heard me, lady. Every time I manage to bring her to where she can finally see her own worth, you bring her right back to the fucking ground again. And this time she landed in the fucking hospital!” Gavin’s finger never ceased the jabbing in midair with every point he made. If only the Mother could see how close Gavin was to losing his shit, perhaps she’d actually shut up and listen to him. “That’s at no-one’s fault but her own.” “No, that’s at your own fucking fault. If you were a decent mother and supported her -” “Y/N has had this fantasy dream since she was a child. It’s time she outgrew it and got a proper job.” “Since when is wanting to own to a business a fucking fantasy?! She can do it. She has the smarts to but you keep fucking her up.” At this point, Nines yanked the phone out of Gavin’s clutches when the Detective’s began to rise and his anger would be to blame for waking you up, which is something that Nines wanted to avoid. You needed the sleep and listening to Gavin scream down the other line of the phone would only stress you out further. Placing the communications device to ear, a much more calmer tone greeted the line, “Good evening Mrs Y/L/N. What my colleague is trying to convey is that one Y/N has successfully surpassed her examinations, she has a solid proposal to put forth to the bank and town-council officials. There is a 15% she will be knocked back, but that is a very low percentile so I highly doubt she will become the failure that you are clearly so worried about. I understand that every parent wishes for their child to succeed. Your concern is admirable but the unsolicited advice is not. I suggest that if you cannot be as supportive of her as her own boyfriend and his work colleagues down at the Detroit City Police Department, perhaps it is best if you minimalize your contact with Y/N. I assure you that your daughter has people in her corner to support her, people that you ought to be wary of the next time you break the law. Because the next time you bring Y/N down again, we will bring you down the next time you break the law, regardless of how small it is. Good day Mrs. L/N.” Just as well that Nines took over from the phone call. Had it been Gavin, he would’ve been screaming down the line with a much worse threat; ‘Break Y/N again, and I’ll break your fucking face.” Gavin temper can get away from him particularly when it involves you. Before your mother could get a word in, Nines hung up the phone and looked over at Gavin whose mouth was slightly agape before they turned into a snarl as he took his phone back. “She got off lightly if you ask me.” “Yes, well the alternative is against the law.” “Tch.” “It would be advisable that you also retrieve Y/N’s phone in case the mother tries to contact her while she’s recovering.” “Fuck. Yeah… Yeah, I’ll do that.” Instead of doing as Nines advised, Gavin grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, some pain relief from the top of the fridge and then rummaged around one of the top drawers in the kitchen. Grabbing a marker and a piece of notepad paper, he quickly scribbled something on it before gathering everything and making his way down the hallway to the bedroom. Quietly opening the door, he made an effort to be quiet with his steps as he set down his phone beside yours so he could unload the rest of his items; placing the bottle of water down, the packet of pain relief tablets in case you awake with a headache or any other aches from today. Lastly, the little note that simply said; ‘Love you X.’

Despite the murderous anger that had consumed him earlier, it all melted when he saw you curled up beneath the covers. One of these days he was going to marry you. If you’ll have him, that is. He can only hope he’d make a decent husband to you. Leaning down, lips softly kissed your temple, gaze lingering on you for a moment, flames of fierce protection flickered around Gavin’s heart, who was prepared to burn anyone whoever dare hurt you like this. Grabbing both phones, he left the room and quietly shut the door behind him. ◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇ He found Nines in the kitchen with a fresh cup of coffee made for Gavin, knowing the Detective would be in dire need of something after the stressful few hours. Sitting at one of the barstools at the kitchen counter, Gavin groaned and rubbed his face as Nines took your phone and switched it off completely before sliding it back to Gavin. “Nines? Uh… listen – uh, thanks for everything today. Didn’t mean to rope you in with all this shit.” “You’re quite welcome. I’m just relieved to know that Y/N is home.” “Yeah. Me too.” A quiet moment transpired between them as Gavin sipped away at his coffee and Nines running his regular internal checks with his system. “’M gonna marry her Nines.” The statement came as no surprise to Nines, he was well aware how smitten Gavin was for you, but he hadn’t expected to see the tips of Gavin’s ears turn pink at the statement. Gavin’s face was turned slightly from Nines’ complete view, but Nines knew this was something that Gavin was embarrassed to confess but clearly wanted to open up to Nines about. “I know, Detective.”

  ◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇  

It was close to 8 months since you successfully graduated from your university. Gavin and Nines were both there to see you accept your certificate, they were both there when you signed documents and contracts for various things. Gavin wanted to be there for every crucial moment for you, and Nines wanted to be there to ensure that you weren’t getting screwed over by what was stated in the contracts and documents.

It was the evening before the bookstore opening and everything was in place. Unfortunately, there wouldn’t be a grand opening of sorts so Gavin didn’t book the day off; having booked quite a number of days off already with wanting to be there for the other stuff in the past few days. So, he decided to take you out to dinner tonight. Or so you thought. He came home early so he could have a shower and get ready while you also had time to do your hair and makeup, wearing the dress that you knew drew him wild. It wasn’t your intention to tease him but you also know he’s been stressed with work but has also been there for you with everything… you knew there was only one way to show your appreciation… but that was for after dinner. You hadn’t even left the house yet, let alone the bedroom when two large hands had your hips pinned against the wall. You let out a small gasp and arched against him with a small hum. His lips trailing from your cheek and down your jawline, “You look delicious babe.” One of your hands rested on his forearm, the other trailed up the nape of his neck, fingers pressing against the smaller parts of his hair. “Dinner first and then dessert.” “I’d rather have you for dinner.” Came the husky murmur against your ear as his hands gripped your hips and pressed his own against yours, feeling the slight bulge in his pants. You forced yourself to hold back a moan, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of how much you really want to cave and give him what he wants. “And not dessert? Shame. Dessert’s always the best part.” You teased, tilting your head sideways for his lips to have better access. He refused to kiss your lips because he didn’t want to mess up your makeup. “Can’t I have both?” he groaned out but forced himself to pull away, especially if he wants tonight to go as planned; which didn’t exactly interfere with your plans but will definitely delay them somewhat. His lust-filled green eyes stared at yours as a finger gently hooked under your chin, thumb very lightly caressed across your dark red painted lips. “You really are fucking beautiful, you know that, right?” Luckily the blush you were wearing covered up the natural heat of your cheeks at his compliment. “I do now.” You murmured softly as your gaze met his and your lips smiled softly. You had no idea how much Gavin worshipped the ground you walked on, adored you in every single aspect of the word. At the same time, he was your entire world to you. He may not look like it, but he was the epitome of a gentleman to you. You’ve been told by so many that he’s an absolute asshole at work (granted he’s calmed down since he’d been dating you) but you just can’t see it. Smiling, you placed a chaste kiss on his cheek and leaned back, thumb wiping away the lipstick residue left on his cheek. “And you, Detective Reed, are quite the charmer.” If he could wink, he would, but he’d given up trying ages ago. Instead, his lips turned up into a smirk and his hand connected with the curve of your ass. “C’mon.” Gavin took you both to the bookstore first. Night was falling and you could only make out the sign by the street lamps; ‘Cozy Book Nook Store’ a name that suited the theme of the bookstore you designed. Even with the curtains drawn, the windows and signage already had a welcoming and cozy tone. Gavin had wanted to see the final product before anyone else when the doors opened tomorrow. Unlocking the door, you flicked some of the lights and let him in. He wondered around a little, taking it all in. Mind, he’s been coming in every few days to see the progress, spending his weekends dedicated to helping you unbox books and placing them on the shelves. But he knows you’ve been working hard nonstop between then and now, adding the finishing touches and such. You quietly stood to the side, hands clasped together in front of you as you watched his reaction. Did it look good? Did you do a good job at setting it up? It was a rustic themed look inside with little nooks lit up by soft fairy lights where people could sit and read. Eventually you were going to incorporate a hot chocolate machine but that also came with a lot of pros and cons, and not quite in budget at the moment. “This looks amazing! You nervous?” he turned as he watched you walk over to him, forcing himself to keep his eyes on yours and not wander down to the curve of your hips as they sway while you walked. “Excited mostly, but yeah, a little nervous.” “You know I’m proud of you, babe. I’m so fucking proud of you.” He glanced around at the store before his gaze landed back on yours. “You achieved all this on your own.” “Well, I can’t take all the credit. You helped too.” “Hm, I think I mostly got in the way.” There was one weekend where Gavin kept slapping your ass as he walked past while you were bent over some books or boxes, a couple of times you both fooled around too. It was basically a wasted weekend because Gavin clearly had other things on his mind. He took your hand in his, lifting it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to the palm of your hand. “You’ve come a long way Y/N. You should be proud of yourself. I am. I am so fucking proud of you, you have no idea. I know things weren’t easy. But I will always be there for you. And I…” Gavin had wanted to say something romantic, something that would sweep you off your feet but he wasn’t capable of doing that. He still struggles to open up on a heart-to-heart level at times. Instead, his free hand disappeared into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a small square box. Before you even had time to process anything, he was down on one knee, still holding your hand while managing to flick the box open to reveal a beautiful gold diamond ring. “I would be even more proud to call you my wife. Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?” He had every intention of asking you to marry him regardless of whether you graduated or not. If you didn’t graduate, it would give him the opportunity to whisk you away for a weekend to help forget your troubles, to propose even if it means you don’t become the successful bookstore owner you’ve always dreamed of being. Whether you were an assistant, or at a ‘menial’ job like retail or at Starbucks… he’d still be proud to call you his wife. But when you graduated and bought the building that was only a block away from the Precinct (expect a lot of visits from Gavin, sometimes Nines too, on his lunchbreak), he knew the perfect way to propose to you; When your Bookstore was all set up and ready to open. “I… Gavin are you sure?” “I’m on my knees, asking. I’m pretty sure Y/N.” “No, I meant… my family aren’t exactly –” “I’m well aware of your family and I would really rather not talk about them while I’m trying to ask you to marry me here.” You laughed softly at accidentally leaving him in limbo like that. But your laughter soon turned into tears of happiness as you sobbed out a “Yes.” Being a physically active Detective, he was able to unexpectedly brace himself as you lunged your body against him. Arms coming around his neck while you kissed whatever part of him you could. “Oh my god, yes!”   Still holding the box, his arms snaked around your lower back as he held you to him, his lips managing to catch yours in a tender but deep kiss in the middle of your bookstore.

A Place for Everything, and Everything in Its Place

Okay so this is the first work I’m posting from my ao3 account

Takes place in my college au where iwa/kawa/reader are attending the same uni and dating

Description:  Being naked, tied up and gagged in a men's gymnasium bathroom is a new and exciting experience. You're waiting while your boyfriends finish up another college volleyball game; you're going to be a surprise treat for Iwaizumi, letting him use your cunt for some much needed stress-relief. Oikawa won't be far behind, either, and you get to be their helpless little slut. Be careful, though, or the rest of their team may hear.

Warnings: exhibitionism, bondage, BDSM, vaginal sex, f!reader, pet names, hair-pulling, slight degradation, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, asphyxiation, breathe play, aftercare!!! Don’t do this shit without negotiation and aftercare.

18+ only

You can hear the crowds cheering from outside the bathroom. Cleats squeaking across floors, the dull thud of volleyballs hitting hands or the ground, screams and yells echoing. It’s a big game for your university’s volleyball team, but they’re favored to win. You hope they win with every fiber of your being. From the cheers of the pep squad, it seems like the boys are doing well, luckily.

It’s cramped in the bathroom stall. The furthest down from the door in the men’s gymnasium locker room. It’s humid, and chilly, too, so you were a bit uncomfortable, but that was mostly because you don’t have clothes on. Your bare nipples stiffen from the stifling air around. The door is only shut, not latched, which only adds to your spiking anxiety. Anyone could enter.

The ropes are starting to numb you a little, but you will admit they’re tied very well. One wraps around your right forearm, binding it to the handicapped bar on the side of the stall. Your knee is tied to that elbow, holding it up and away so you have to balance sitting on the toilet seat. Your other arm is bound behind you to a collar from your neck, making you keep your arm twisted back or suffocate. That combo was bound to a cloth gag, firmly between your teeth, and your lower back had a loop tied to the tank. Only your left leg was free, and that you had to spread to the side for balance or risk falling. Every movement is a dangerous game of tilting back and forth on the seat. You try not to shift at all or make any noise.

Time leaks by in small drips with nothing to distract you. Only beige, tiled walls to stare at, and the yellow light from long ceiling fixtures bounding off the metal door. At least it was mostly clean, as clean as a men’s bathroom could be. It smelled of stale sweat and socks. But eventually, you hear the screams and stomps and chants of a victorious crowd, and your heartrate skyrockets as you hear your team open the door to the locker room. You tug on the ropes instinctively; there’s no give. The men chatter and laugh and slap each other on the back, and you hear the captain praising the star setter.

Oikawa Tooru.

“Where’s the girlfriend? She’s usually here to cheer you on.” The captain says it to Oikawa, wince he’s more talkative, but it’s also aimed at Iwaizumi Hajime.

“Ah, she’s pretty tied up today and couldn’t make it,” Oikawa deflected. Ha-ha, very funny.

“Too bad, I know you love it when she’s here.”

You can hear that infuriating smirk in his voice. “Yeah, we really, really do.”

As they chat, some people walk away to the showers to clean off, and other’s step into the toilet area. With every set of footsteps headed your way, adrenaline pulses harder through your veins. Your gag is soaked through, drool turning cold on your jawline, shivering from either fear or excitement or the chill, or some combination. Only one person uses the last stall.

Iwaizumi Hajime opens the door and freezes when he sees your shaking form. You worry even more, scared someone will catch sight of you. All trussed up and sweet for Iwa, bound and docile. There’s even a helpful note written on your abdomen: “Fuck me, please”. There’s more words in colorful paint pens, like a raunchy work of art. “I’m a slut” “Fill me up with your cock” “I need it” “Property of Oikawa and Iwaizumi”.

Iwa is speechless. He drops the towel he had to mop up the sweat at the back of his neck, then his cheeks dust red. He closes the door behind him, and you relax for just a moment, head bobbing down. This tugs on your arm and you wince. The ace walks closer, gets in your face.

“Shittykawa left me a present, huh?” he whispers, right into your sensitive ear. You shake your head.

“No? I think you’re lying.”

His big hands come to rest on your thighs, and you try to move your free leg to close them, but you throw yourself off balance and end up abrading your wrists and neck. You try so hard not to make any sounds, but a teammate shouts over.

“You good Iwaizumi?”

He looks at you with those black eyes of his, a warning to shut up in the squeeze of his hand. “Yeah, all good,” he calls back.

You have to open your legs again or risk making noise, but to Iwa, it just looks like you’re spreading them for him.

“Naughty girl,” he chastises, but his smile gives away his pleasure. “I’ll thank Oikawa later.” He presses a kiss to your temple, and you flinch at the soft feeling. His hands are quick about finding the space between your thighs, the sensitive, leaking pussy that’s been neglected til now. You flinch even harder at that, head jolting, pulling harder on your twisted arm. This time you fight down the gasp to avoid being caught. The men outside are still talking about the game, having no idea about a slut stuck on a toilet. The idea is as thrilling as it is scary.

Iwaizumi notices your restraint and rewards you with a peck over your gag. “Good girl.”

His calloused fingers rub over your inner labia gently, stroking until they part on their own, but all at once pushing two fingers deep into your pulsating insides. You have to focus on being quiet when he probs at your walls, scissoring his fingers apart for a cursory stretch so he fits inside you at all. It doesn’t last.

His ball shorts come off with his underwear. Iwa runs a hand over the droll slipping down your neck. He’s already half hard before he wraps that hand around its girth, using your spit, stroking slow over a flushed head and a vein running along the side. Him and Oikawa both believe in not having sex before a game, you know this, so he’s raring to go at the sight of your leaking cunt, of you at his mercy in such a public way.

He’s staring at your body as he jerks off. He’s clearly thinking, but you can only guess as to what about. You feel the slickness seeping from you and expect it to get cold, but with Iwaizumi so warm and sweaty from the game in such a tight space with you, the air gets warmer and warmer. His touch is heating you up, too, and the smoldering look in his eyes. They never leave your body. You feel heat rise in your skin, so unused to the deadly focus he levels only at volleyballs. Like a predator.

He’s fully stiff, and grunts like he’s made up his mind about something. Two huge hands grab your hips tight enough to bruise, and he’s tilting up, and up, and you almost shriek as you tip backward. You narrowly avoid smacking your head on the toilet as your hips are lifted higher than the rest of you, leg and forearm still held tight to the bar to the side, which spreads you wide as possible for Iwaizumi. You’re almost totally upside down, which makes you want to struggle, especially as your arm pulls down on your neck from gravity. Some of you is supported by your ties to the wall, but Iwa has most of your weight. Your forehead almost touches the flush pedal by the tank, that nasty rusted thing. It only riles you up more.

Iwaizumi doesn’t give a damn. He’s busy angling his aching cock between your folds, rutting against you again and again, smushing his head against your clit while he tries to part you with only that. The pressure on your pearl is electrifying, and you bite down on the cloth in your mouth. You shouldn’t but you want him inside, inside inside inside inside in-

His dick finally aligns, after a torturous eternity, and he’s balls deep half a second later. Your eyes roll back at the sudden bashing, surprised no one noticed the loud shlup from how agonizingly wet you are for him. It takes a lot of effort, but you twist your head up to look at Iwaizumi even though it strangles you. The sight has you clenching over his hot girth.

He’s bitten right through his lip, eyes firmly focused on where your folds flutter around him as blood drips from his mouth. He’s still flushed from the game, sweat dripping from his biceps and trailing down his thick neck, high off of victory and ravenous at the state you’re in.

“Is this really a present for me? Or was it a present to you,” he asks, hushed tones. You can’t deny that you’re a wreck for him. You lose the strength to hold your head up, so you go back to being hung upside down. Just maneuvered however he wanted to stick his cock in you. Being used. His hips rock into you, not pulling far out to avoid letting his team hear just how wet you are, a slow grind of cock that brushes your clit every time.

There are footsteps right outside the stall. Someone is walking toward yours, and you and Iwaizumi freeze. You wonder if it’s Oikawa, but you hear his loud laugh from the lockers, and you know it couldn’t be.

The teammates shoes stop outside, you can see the shadows from under the stall. Your eyes are wide, praying he’d go away. No luck, he pushes on your door, cracking it-

Luckily, Iwa wraps an arm around your hips to support them while he slaps the door back shut. “Occupied, jerk!” he yells.

“Shit, sorry man,” the teammate replies sheepishly, taking the stall next door instead.

Meanwhile, your nails are digging right into your palms as your legs twitch. When Iwa shifted, he tilted your pelvis into the perfect spot, shockwaves of bliss coating your nerves. And him supporting you with one arm like it’s nothing, like you don’t weigh a pound to him, muscles bulging and rippling as he moves.

He looks at you, notices how affected you are and tilts his head in confusion. He faces you totally again, shifting his cock even deeper, and you have to push down on your own arm to cut off a moan by choking. You feel his cock twitch in you and whimper.

Iwa keeps holding you like that, balanced perfectly, and leans forward to put his other hand on the wall. He looms down, and now you can see his face backlit by the yellow lights as he grins like a devil at how needy you are. Dried blood makes a trail down his chin, adding to the disheveled and fearsome look until you’re shivering from a whole new reason.

“Like that, huh?” he asks, as if he couldn’t tell from how tight you are around him. He starts up the same motion as before, sill not drastic movements to keep his dick in that delicate spot in you, and you’re lightheaded from how great you feel. Or maybe from being upside down while a crazed man ruts you like he’s starving.

It’s becoming harder for him to stay quiet now, too, and he leans down to set his face on your chest to muffle himself. His lips mouth the soft flesh there, sliding his lips across to suck on a nipple, sinking his teeth in until you jerk in his hold from the sharp sensation. You feel him mouthing either praises or degrading insults around the flesh, leaving teeth marks while his hips’ rhythm makes a mess of your lower halves. You can feel his full, heavy balls slap against your asshole, slick from your pussy and his sweat. The door shutting as players file out drowns the noise, so Iwa deepens his strokes.

The orgasm you crave is just beyond reach, but you just feel like you’re climbing higher, and higher, and higher, on a never-ending course of ecstasy. Iwaizumi only gets thicker as he thrusts, stretching you out but simultaneously making you clamp down harder. Strings of your drool hang down from your gag. There’s no way you can hold onto a single thought right now, not with your cunt being filled by a beast like Iwa. He stops chewing on your bright red nipple, pulling back to blow on the saliva there so it ices over, and with a final thrust you’re convulsing in his hold, hitting cloud nine like a train.

Brain totally clear, you shudder and shake and accidentally cut off your air again. It’s lucky you did because there’s no way you could have stopped from screaming as he hammers inside, pushing you into overstimulation until he comes himself. Hips twitch against yours as he jolts out his high, semen pouring into your waiting body.

“Well that looks like fun,” you hear an annoyingly smooth voice say behind Iwa.

He turns his head to see Oikawa behind, looking at the scene he orchestrated perfectly. Oikawa steps inside and latches the door behind him, shirt already missing.

“You missed the first load I gave to our little slut,” Iwa informs him. You’re too busy shaking and sobbing from the intensity of the last round to care. Iwa’s thumbs rub circles into your waist as he rights you, blood rushing from your head.

Oikawa pushes your hair back from your face, puts fluttery kisses over your eyes to replace the tears until you can breathe easily again. You relax into their hands, at their mercy. “Mm no, I saw the whole thing. You’re lucky everyone left. Or did you want to get caught, naughty girl?” A sinister smile finishes his sentence, and you know you’re not done yet. A thrill of panic or excitement courses through you. At least now you won’t be caught.

“Fuck her again, Iwa-chan.”

The great king has spoken, and you know Iwa is perfectly willing to do what he says. He rubs his cock against your stomach to get back into it, balls hitting your aching clit, making you gasp every time.

“Sensitive already, huh?” Oikawa says, and the tone of his voice warns you he’s about to torment you. His fingers find your overused clit and pinch, and you cry out through the cloth, even more so when he rolls it. Your pained noises bring Iwaizumi back to full hardness quickly, and Oikawa smiles down at you like a villain. It’s hot, you’ll fully admit, but you’re too busy focusing on the dick about to push back inside you.

“Hold on,” Oikawa says, and slips a hand behind you. Fingers trail over your ass, smacking without warning just to see your eyes pop open wide.

“Sadist,” Iwaizumi accuses.

“Yeah, duh,” Oikawa confirms. He unhooks something at your back, and suddenly the rope over your stomach is detached. You arm is free from your collar a moment later, but he loops it tightly to the collar on the front before you can do a thing. You’re grateful for the change in position since that one was hard to maintain. Feeling comes back to your arm slowly, now curled by your chest.

Then the two men are shifting you around, and Oikawa is behind you, which makes you nervous. Your tied-up leg is stretched even further when Oikawa holds your back to him, making your free leg support you on the ground. You feel his firm chest press tight to you, heat from exertion radiating through to your core. He addresses Iwaizumi with a peck to his lips.

“Fuck her like this, yeah?”

Iwa didn’t need to be told twice. He tosses his jersey over one shoulder with the opposite arm, flexing his muscles in the process, and really, he had no right to be that hot when you’re already so fucked out. He takes your thigh from Oikawa, lining up and letting his cockhead just barely brush your hole. He stays like that. You look at him inquisitively, wondering what he hell the holdup was for you being stuffed again, and you rock down so he slips into you another inch.

You get another hard slap to your ass, stinging with setter intensity. “Be patient slut.”

Funny of him to say when he’s rubbing his own cock between your ass cheeks through his shorts because he’s so on edge. With both men essentially teasing you, it was hard to not react, so you let your head loll back onto Oikawa’s shoulder. You allow your little moans to slip out, hips twitching from you holding back.

Iwaizumi hates holding back, so it isn’t long before you’re shaking from his powerful thrusts once more. He’s rubbing over your sensitized walls so well, texture dragging against your sweet spots, and you almost come again just from that.

Oikawa’s magic fingers really seal the deal when they seal over your clit with just the right amount of force. You let loose, muffled screams just urging them on, slick pouring from you over Iwaizumi’s cock. He, again, doesn’t give you a moments rest even with your senseless babbles through the gag. His lips mark up your neck while he takes out his aggression on you. You can’t even see, you’re so far gone.

You’re abruptly brought back to the land of the living, though, when a second soaked cock brushes your tiny opening. You shake your head, chest arching up and hips tilting into him, body sending wildly mixed messages. You don’t want to use your safe action for even a moment, desperately wanting to experience everything they have to offer you.

“Aw, sweetheart, you know you want this, right? I mean, look at how wet you are baby,” Oikawa coos in your ear. He’s totally right. A long finger slips in by Iwa’s dick, pulling backward toward your ass to lever you open, more of your come dripping out in the process. You can’t stop shaking.

“Look at the honey spilling out, Iwa-chan.”

Iwa lifts his face from your shoulder after a last hickey, just in time to see Oikawa’s soaked fingers near him. He follows the silent command and his lips part to clean up your mess presented to him, tongue slurping up and around each digit in turn. Oikawa twitches against you and decides he can’t take it anymore. Iwa slows down to let him in but never stops entirely.

A fat cockhead breaches your opening next to Iwa’s already thick shaft. You’re sure it can’t fit, and you shriek in surprise when he sinks two inches inside in a fast shove. It’s a steady progression from there, getting deeper every moment, and the air feels like it’s been stolen from your lungs at how open you are.

“Fuck yeah, feels even better Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi moans into your ear.

“Taking us so well, tiny little slut hole opening up for us,” Oikawa says, panting from the pressure of your cunt on the two invading dicks. It’s only a matter of time before they both bottom out, immediately moving back and forwards hard enough to jostle you around.

“Shocked you didn’t break open, brat.” Iwa tells you. He’s staring at your stomach, how it looks more rounded than earlier, and a firm hand presses down to confirm it’s because you’re so full of cock your guts had to move. You feel the pressure mount from the outside, clit twinging at the extra stretch of your flesh, and you pray they don’t touch it again. You might just come untouched this time with how good your pussy feels from their friction, your slick making the slide feel like a drug.

“Our good little cumdump? Noo, how could you doubt her, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa says, teeth gritting from focusing on holding your waist still.  His nails dig into your ribcage, thrusts increasing in power until you’re jumping from every stroke. “See, she’s made for this.”

Iwa nods, still feeling up your stomach, almost reopening the bite in his lip from pleasure.

You’re floating somewhere beyond reality, nothing but the cocks crashing into you over and over hypnotizing you into a lustful haze. Their chests compressing you tighter and tighter, Oikawa against the wall and thrusting up, Iwa crushing you both from his power. They kiss over your left shoulder, a deep French that gives you sloppy sounds right in your ear, driving you wild as they are. You’re all moaning and sweating, and your drool makes lines down your neck that Iwa chases with his tongue. Oikawa yanks at your hair to give him more space. His lips against your neck tingle like your scalp, and the difference between the two have you begging behind the gag. You want so much, so much you can’t articulate, and these men are giving it to you, every inch.

It doesn’t take long for you to be shaking apart at your stuffed seams. Oikawa switches to pulling and twisting your nipples while they work your cunt into a frothy mix, while Iwa sucks at a spot below your ear, and with a genuine scream, you almost black out. Everything goes blank white, ringing ears and twitching limbs and a cunt absolutely clenching and gushing around the thick cocks inside like it wants to keep them in.

The men don’t hesitate to pour all their come into your aching cunt, enjoying the spasms from your seemingly never-ending orgasm. It takes an eternity for your breath to calm, for your hands to unfurl, for your cunt to be loose enough they can slip out of you finally. Iwaizumi holds you close, Oikawa making shushing noises and petting your hair. You come back to earth from their pampering. Someone unties you completely, kissing along the rough rope burns and rubbing your jaw. It hurts, but their care makes it dull to a quiet throb, nothing compared to the punch your nethers took.

You think it’s Iwaizumi who picks you up to take you to the handicapped shower so you can all get clean at once. Your legs are nearly vibrating from exhaustion when they stand you up again, and you let them wipe you down. Iwaizumi is holding your weight for you, so Oikawa does most of the work. The strength to open your eyes reveals a kneeling Oikawa cleaning your legs reverently. He catches your gaze and sends you a winning smile, kissing your belly button. You can’t help but grin back, especially as the water streaks the paint over your abdomen. He picked aqua for their names, his favorite color.

They turn you so Oikawa can wash your backside, and you look up at Iwaizumi. The steam is flattening his hair spikes a little, and you grin at him too when his lips duck down to yours. Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, so he leads, a chaste smooch that makes your heart flutter.

Oikawa finishes up and steals a kiss from you himself, taking you from Iwaizumi’s arms so the man can shower himself properly. You curl into Oikawa’s warmth, thankful the showerhead was wide enough for you all to stay mostly beneath it. You don’t have the energy for anything yet but breathing with him, chests rising and falling in sync. His firm hands sooth the knots in your muscles from holding hard positions so long, making tiny noises fall from your mouth against your will.

When Iwa finishes, they switch, and Iwa cradles you to him instead. You see him watching Oikawa over your shoulder, so you turn too, and get an eyeful. Oikawa has his hands up sudsing his hair, water pouring down that pretty body of his, head tilted back. You forget the man could be a model if he wanted. Iwa’s hand tightens on your back.

You know Iwaizumi gets insecure sometimes; you all do, so you all try to help each other as much as possible. You take his hand and kiss his knuckles, looking up into his deep, dark eyes while you do. “Beautiful,” you whisper, and watch as the man who reamed you into the wall blushes. He is, really, and the blood rushing to his cheeks from your sincerity makes him just glow. It kind of makes your heart hurt, how glad you are to have them both, and you close your eyes and rest your cheek on his hand to bask in it.

You feel a little better now, and it just improves when Oikawa sidles up behind you to join the love. He kisses your head, then him and Iwaizumi share a longer kiss, sighing in content. Both your boys, happy and sated and in your arms.

“Guys?” you say, and watch their heads turn toward you. You grin at them. “Congrats on another great victory, I’m really proud.”

Oikawa beams. “A prize like that was all the congratulations I need.”

Iwa elbows him, and he whines “Iwa-chaaan!” but Iwaizumi placates him with another kiss.

“I can’t believe you two schemers surprised me like that.”

You chuckle. “You said you’d be down for it sometime, so we wanted to reward you for all the hard work.”

“Did you have fun?” Oikawa purrs to him, twining his fingers with Iwa’s. Iwaizumi nods immediately, then pulls you closer.

“Was that okay? I know we discussed this before, but I want to check with you.” Iwa’s concern always fills you with joy.

Oikawa seconds him. “That was really intense baby, you held up so well for us. But are you okay?”

It took a lot of trust and negotiation to hand them so much control, but the rush you got from it was incomparable. You nod happily to them. “Thanks for checking on me anyway, you make me happy.”

They both blush, but Iwa’s flustered and Oikawa’s ego is pumped.

“Are you two okay?” you check, “Everything okay?”

Oikawa gives you a dorky thumbs-up. “It was all good for me. Iwa?”

Iwa thinks a moment, a hand on his chin. He looks at you, a little hesitant. “…next time, I’d like to confirm you remember the safe-action before jumping in. It felt weird for me to ask halfway through when I know you know it well, but it’d make me more comfortable to triple check.”

You nod. “Okay, thanks for telling me. I know you have trouble breaking the scene and keeping us on track sometimes.”

Oikawa ruffled his spikey hair. “I’ll remind you next time to make sure.”

“Oi, Shittykawa-“ they grapple a little, smug smiles and giggles all around as they play. Oikawa hides behind you, but Iwaizumi tickles you til you squirm and surrender, then you grab Oikawa to offer up as a sacrifice in exchange, laughing as it’s his turn.

You admire them both, not subtly, standing soaking wet beneath the water with you. And, gods, your heart is full.

“Now come on, let’s go home and make tea,” you say, and when Oikawa gets loudly excited about it, he gets a soft smack to the shoulder from Iwa. You giggle at them and demand to hold their hands, happy you’re with these dorks. You wouldn’t change a thing.

The Octavia Blake Guide to Surviving Lockdown (and What Comes Next)

So it’s been six weeks in isolation. I think? Time has long since become irrelevant. The world is stressed. I’m stressed. Not so much about the coronavirus itself, but everything else surrounding the situation. The isolation. The uncertainty. Society losing its shit. What the world will look like when it is all over, because everything will change whether we want it to or not.

You know, all that fun stuff our favourite characters on The 100 deal with each episode.

Which brings me to this post. What Would Octavia Blake Do?

I mean, she’s got the experience. Sixteen years of isolation in a single room, followed by a year of isolation in another room, then about six months on the ground, followed by six years locked under the ground... she knows better than anyone how to survive these sorts of trying times.

So here we have it - famous Octavia quotes and how to apply them to our current situation. Mostly serious, part irreverent, all of it a homage to the fact that stories matter and can help us figure out how to deal with this messy thing called life.

“A warrior doesn’t worry about what she can’t control.”

This is a mantra I repeat to myself many times a day. Sometimes I believe it. It’s hard. But it really is the only way to keep yourself sane these days. The world has turned upside down, but you can’t control it. You can only control yourself.

I can’t control that 75% of my income earning potential vanished overnight. I can control how I budget the remaining 25%, credit cards and looking into new income streams.

I can’t control that I’m stuck in a country I was supposed to leave this week for however long this continues to go on. I can try and learn to love it again, because we’re going to be spending more time together.

So what else can I do to keep myself healthy and sane? Let’s look at what Octavia does.

Train. One of the first things I started doing as soon as the lockdown started in mid-March was set up an exercise plan. Now, I don’t typically “exercise” in my normal life. I just walk everywhere I need to go and call that good enough. But now that I’m not really doing that, I have to find a way to do so indoors. I started out with three half-hour Zumba sessions per day, and now I’ve worked my way into more specific and targeted workout sessions. YouTube is a godsend. Every type of exercise you could think of, in any time length you want, you can find there. I’m doing abs, arms, more squats than I’ve ever done in my life, kickboxing, etc.

Read. See all those books on your shelves collecting dust? Yeah, read them now. I haven’t been following this advice as much as I should, but I’m making an effort to get better. I have so many unread books and I really should read them. If you’re one of those strange people who don’t have unread books, embrace the opportunities that sites like Project Gutenberg provide and read all the classics online for free. Octavia loves the classics.

Eat healthy. I hadn’t eaten at home for six months before this all started, so I had to refill my pantry and remember how to cook. Keeping your body healthy is important. Get your fruits and vegetables. Also ensure a protein source. Don’t go full on prepper, don’t hoard, but if shit hits the fan and you want to avoid the Dark Year happening in real life, make sure you have a few jars of peanut butter and/or a few packs of beef jerky stashed away for a rainy day. Your neighbours will thank you.

“Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim.” (Get knocked down, get back up)

At the beginning of this year, no one could have predicted what the state of the world is right now. People made plans. People started putting their plans into action.

Enter coronavirus.

Everything changes.

I actually had a plan for this year. I was going to leave here this week, go back to Canada for six months, then move to Spain. Well... I don’t know what’s going to happen now. And because of the uncertainty, I can’t know. This has made me so mad, because for the first time in years I had a strategy for the changes I wanted to make in my life, and now they’d all been shot to sunshine.

Some days you have to just scream. (Or cry and spend the day eating quesadillas in a blanket fort. True story.) But then after that happens, you have to brush yourself off, get up again and keep going.

Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim.

I’m not making any plans further than today. I know that’s an exercise in futility right now. All I can do is focus on what I can control (see above point) and continue to focus on that and what I can do for myself until there are things that I can do in the world again.

Moral of the story: Yes, there are going to be shitty days. You’ve probably already had a bunch of them. But you have to pick yourself up again and keep going when they’re over. You might feel like you want to give up. Heaven knows Octavia’s felt like that a lot of times. But she still kept going. If she stubbornly fought through a cliff dive with a stab wound and a quicksand pool of Orbeez, we can handle some uncertainty and delayed life plans.

“The sword doesn’t care what you meant, it just cuts.”

Time to step onto a soapbox for a bit.

Some world leaders and governments have done admirably with dealing with this crisis. Some have done okay. Some have done so fucking awful at their jobs and continue to spout nonsense from their podiums that it is going to cause real people to die. (Not naming any names, but I’m sure you know what I mean.)

Octavia is the only character on this show who understands that when you’re in a tough situation, what your intentions are doesn’t matter, it is only the results that do. This is applicable to our situation today in a twofold manner.

Point One: We can only control our own actions. That means being a responsible citizen, following public health guidelines. Stay home. If you have to go out, practice social distancing and any other recommendations set out by your public health authority. You might say you’re young and healthy, you’re not concerned about if you get the virus, but it is not about you. You could be asymptomatic and not know it. You might not mean to get someone else sick - someone who is more vulnerable - but it could still happen if you don’t behave responsibly. So take ownership of your actions and do what you can to minimize the spread.

Which brings us to Point Two: You can’t control other’s actions, but you can hold them accountable for them. Which in this situation mostly means your country’s leaders. Do not forget how they responded to this crisis. Remember. Remember when it is time to vote. Did they do a good job or did they do a bad job? How many people lived or died because of what they said? Did they follow the advice of medical experts? And so on. This isn’t a time for party politics, this is a time for “can we rely on this leader to do what’s right for the people of this country when we’re in a crisis?” If the answer is no, vote for somebody else.

The same applies to non-governmental leaders - leaders of business and charities and everything else that you can think of. Remember who stepped up and helped people when and how they needed it. Remember who didn’t. Remember who actively made lives worse. Budget your money accordingly.

“Kom folau oso na gyon op.” (From the ashes we will rise)

This will pass.

When, we don’t know. How, we don’t know. But all we can do is work on ourselves and make ourselves as strong as we can for whatever the future brings us. 

Some people are optimists, believing that this will usher in a new world where more people understand the challenges that others have always faced with things like mental health or physical disabilities and issues of accessibility and so on. Where more people will be aware of the dangers of climate change. Where people who are now coming together online and building hope and change will continue to do so in person when we can leave our homes and meet up with others again.

Some people are pessimists, believing the world will collapse and we’ll enter into a post-apocalyptic scenario like The 100 or any of the other dozens of post-apocalyptic media offerings out there. Where it’ll be every person for themselves and panic and destruction will reign supreme.

You don’t have to speculate on the different scenarios. That’s not helpful right now. All you can do is work on yourself and make yourself ready for whatever the future will throw at us, and do your part in making a positive one.

This could be the point of lockdown where you’re starting to move out of the panic phase of ensuring survival, and are able to move into higher-level brain function again. If you’re not, that’s okay, it could still take some time. If you’re struggling, don’t be afraid to ask for help. There are people out there who can help. Just remember that this is a process, a process of so many different emotions, sometimes on a loop, sometimes all at once in a flurry of chaos, and that’s okay.

Take care of yourself. Survive. Find a new normal.

Octavia’s journey in season six was about shedding the pain and trauma of her old life, and finding a new one to believe in. Until she did that, she didn’t have to worry about the greater plot nonsense that was going on. That’s our journey now too. The world is changing. How, we don’t know yet. But take this time to make yourself strong for whatever is to come, because whichever scenario wins out, a strong you will always be beneficial.

Ste yuj. (Stay strong.) Because humanity is resilient. And from the ashes, we will rise.

Call me Yours

So @helloitsvehere​ had to go ahead and this under one of my reblogs and even sent me a whole headcanon on the subject, so I had to go write this little thing. 

Thank you for the idea Star, I love you so much and happy Valentine’s Day!

Summary: “I’ll write it on you next.”

“What you just did right there, is sacrilege of the highest form."  

Ryan angles his head, leveling what he proudly deems his intimidating look at Shane sitting in the chair next to him.    

They’re shooting Top 5 in Ryan’s living room, the spread of his kitchen behind him the most confusing mix of comfort and stress. Sure, they’ve spent hours and hours in this very spot discussing and planning and going crazy over this stupidly high-risk project, but up until a week ago when they really put down the cash to get the filming equipment, it all seemed as real as a dream. 

Now, with the scorching lights and cameras trained on him in his place of residence, cloth thrown over the windows to block out the night, casting the room in a soft beige tint, Ryan thinks anything could happen.  

Shane leans back with his board in his hands, the very sight of the scrawled name of the restaurant comfortably nestled in third place paining Ryan on both physical and spiritual levels. It is completely unacceptable. An abomination to humanity itself. 

"I’ve never even heard of that place. Steven!” He gesticulates at Shane with his marker and calls out to Steven sitting just out of the frame, because he’s gotta get some sort of sane Californian opinion on this, no matter what Steven’s actual native state is. Ryan cannot be alone in this.  

“Thank you!” He throws out a hand in a half salute when he receives–an albeit longsuffering– frown and shake of the head from Steven. But it was a vote in his direction. 

“I like it, and that’s enough,” Shane smiles at him with his curvy eyes, waving a hand in a there-there gesture and Ryan can feel himself bristling. “Our opinions are different, isn’t that the whole point of this show?”

“The point,” Ryan says tightly, an accusing marker pointed at the offending name, “Is that you provide sensible reasons in support of those opinions.”

“I laid out a very well-made argument, you’re the one that shot it down." 

"I did not,” Shane’s giving him that look that says you know you’re wrong, something he has had to endure for the past four years on Unsolved. And fine, maybe he is, but that’s not important. “It broke down on its own, it’s so little known you may as well have written your address on there to represent your mom’s cooking.”

“Watch it Bergara, my mother’s cooking is amazing." 

"Well, you better write the Madej name down on that board there then.”

“I’ll write it on you next." 

It’s a stupid comeback, really, like what a middle schooler would come up with. Ryan would have realized this, may even have commented on it, if only he could think at all. 

Because there is just something about the way Shane leans in, voice pitched low and eyes narrowed with intent, his big hands curled around the edge of the modified whiteboards in a secure hold. Ryan shivers, he can’t help it, feeling heat rising high on his cheeks. 

It’s barely been two months, and this thing they have between them is the best thing that has happened to Ryan by far, he’s sure. 

It has just happened so fast, their first kiss, first date, first everything had been caught up in the whirlwind of setting up their own company, finally getting to create under their own names with no higher order than themselves. It is a lot, all this fresh freedom wrapped up in the new restraints they fight around every corner, but he’d be lying if it isn’t exhilarating, like riding a rollercoaster with no seatbelt.

So there hasn’t been much time to process, to nurture their relationship the way that Ryan would have wanted. And every once in a while, the fact that there is now another layer to the bond they had accumulated and enforced through years of work and partnership; the strange not-changes that had just shifted into place. The fact that all the half-hidden and not so veiled suggestions and hints now have a secure chance of being acted upon-- it comes round to hit him all at once, leaving him flushed and tingling at the fingertips, desperately wondering what if.

Dimly, Ryan realizes that he hasn’t said anything in reply. How long had he sat there with some kind of dopey look on his face, just staring at Shane? This is so absolutely not the time to do this. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Steven shaking his head, that pained frown making another appearance. Shane has dropped his serious face, a satisfied tilt to his mouth that Ryan wants to see turn into a laugh. 

So Ryan works with what he has, and sometimes that doesn’t include spoken words. 

"Oi!” Shane hollers when Ryan launches an attack on his bare arm via marker, the taller man scrambling to shift in his chair and holding his board out like a shield, inching his head out the side to peek at Ryan, “Now that’s just rude.” He declares, and Ryan thinks Shane would have even stuck out a finger if he wasn’t gripping the board so hard. 

“You brought it on yourself, big guy.” Ryan arches an eyebrow, watching with some satisfaction as Shane’s eyes slip down to his lips for just a second. At least he wasn’t alone in this. 

“So what was all that about?”

Shane must have noticed more than he let on, Ryan thinks later, when Shane crowds him against the sink, dipping his head to nip at the shell of Ryan’s ear, words a rumble against his back. 

“You’re gonna have to be more specific,” Ryan hums, leaning back into Shane to let the man feel his warmth, appreciating the sight of the two of them reflected in the mirror. Shane runs cold, something to do with circulation losing the fight against his stupid height and extra-long limbs. But it is quite nice when it comes to sharing a bed.

“You got real red back there, even Steven noticed.”

Ryan’s really tired, out-like-a-light tired, but heat coils in his gut almost instantly. He drops his gaze, suddenly too shy to even look at where Shane’s eyes are twinkling. But it really doesn’t help his situation, because then he sees what Shane’s holding delicately in one hand. 

It’s the marker, the very same one, in fact, that he had used to dot Shane’s arm with little black spots. Now those marks stook out stark against Shane’s skin in the white light of the bathroom. 

“You’d like it if I wrote my name on you wouldn’t you?” Shane murmurs into his ear, twirling the plastic tube around in his hand casually, like he would have allowed himself to do while on camera. Now that’s a thought. Ryan doesn’t think he’s breathing, he gives the barest of nods, eyes trained on the movement. 

“Where would you like it, hmm? Here?” Shane’s other hand skims along his side, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He nudges the side of Ryan’s neck with his nose, voice low, “Or here where everyone can see, where they can read my name and know you’re mine?”

There’s a pressure building, and Ryan’s immensely glad they’re doing this after he changed out of his jeans. 

“Maybe I’ll write it on you right here, so you can watch yourself come in the mirror?”

“Fuck.” Ryan has to scrabble for a hold on the sink then, his knees losing friction and buckling under him. He feels like one of those car-wash blowy things, and Shane had just ripped out the plug to the engine, leaving him to crumple haphazardly towards the ground in a boneless heap. 

But Shane’s there to catch him, hands circling Ryans’ waist in a steady hold. 

“Too much?” Shane asks, catching his gaze in the mirror.

“Jesus.” Ryan breathes, feeling Shane chuckle against him, the taller man ducking his head to press a kiss into Ryan’s neck. 

“There’s not gonna be room for our pal JC tonight, I can promise you that.”

“Shane. Oh my God.” Ryan complains, eyes fluttering closed against the gentle brushes of hands and breath. 

“Not him either.”

“Shut up, Shane.”

“Do you want me to?” Shane’s stubble is tickling the back of Ryan’s neck, Shane’ voice a quiet murmur in his ear, and Ryan’s has always been a sucker for those sweet sweet acoustics. 

“Fuck no." 

"Open your eyes for me, baby, I want you to see yourself for the next part." 

Oh this is definitely a good way to end the night. 

"Look who came in with makeup today.”

Ryan’s jolted out from his morning haze, head jerking up to see Jen smirking at him between the gaps of their computer monitors. It’s a bright Monday morning, and they’re back to shooting Unsolved at the ol’ BU office. 

“What?” He asks, setting his mug carefully down on his desk, already half empty. He should really watch his caffeine count, he wouldn’t be much use at work if he got all jittery during a shoot. But it’s on Buzzfeed, so he’s going to indulge just a little. 

“Busy night was it?” Jen taps a hand on her neck lightly, eyes flitting over to where Shane was opening up his laptop, hair fluffed up and messy. And oh, oh fuck. 

Ryan’s hand shoots up to the side of his neck, mouth dropping open. They had left his place so hurriedly this morning, barely pulling on t-shirts and pants to fall into an Uber, Ryan had had to forfeit toothpaste for mints. There was no time for mirrors and grooming.

No time for other things too, as it turns out. 

“How…?” He can’t really bring him to finish the question, it seems so wrong to even talk about this here, but Jen takes pity on him.

“Very.” She offers him a sympathizing grimace. 

He reaches out to Shane blindly with a fluttering hand, and he thinks he accidentally taps the man across the face, but it does get his attention. Shane’s eyes widen when Ryan turns to show him his neck. 

“Oh shit.” There’s worry in his face as Shane does a quick once over to check if the others are showing, which they weren’t. It’d be really problematic if they do, considering where they are. When he meets Ryan’s eyes again, Ryan thinks he sees something like excitement glint there. 

And maybe, just maybe, there’s a thrill in Ryan’s chest as well.

“Do you need…?” Shane starts, one arm outstretched as if he would bolt and fetch Ryan all the wet-wipes and concealer that he’d ever need, the moment Ryan asks. And Ryan’s heart just absolutely melts for this man. 

Slowly, Ryan lowers his hand to bare the black lines, the span of Shane’s signature arcing across the side of his throat, probably along with the faint print of Shane’s hand, if the tenderness there was any indication. Ryan’s wide awake now, feeling his face heat up when Shane’s eyes darken in the morning light. 

“Oh Ryan.” It shouldn’t be possible to look sultry and soft at the same time, and Ryan is immensely glad that he gets to have this all to himself. 

“Shane.” He echoes, sitting up straighter in his seat. Jen whistles from across his desk. 

“So you’re leaving it on?” Shane leans on the arm of his chair, and now he’s more confident, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, “People are gonna take pictures, social media, etcetera, etcetera.”

“Let them.” Ryan crosses his arms and hooks a foot around Shane’s ankle, offering the taller man a sly smile and savoring the sight of the blush creeping onto Shane’s cheeks. “You did say it looked good last night.”

Shane’s eyes tilt until they’re curvy, and he flashes a devious grin back, and Ryan knows today’s gonna stretch like decades before they can rush home and fall on something soft, or crash against a wall. Both have proven equally effective. 

“Oh you bet it does."