#client-side monitoring

[friendshapedplant]

These vpn sponsorships gotta stop I watched a youtuber imply they can prevent malware and viruses from infecting ur PC

[written-in-flowers]

Model Behavior: YunHwaGi x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Seonghwa x Yunho x Mingi x fem!Reader | side pairing: ot8 x fem!reader

Word Count: 10k

Genre: Smut, smut, and more smut with a sprinkle of fluff on top | AU: sugar baby, idolverse

Summary: The newest episode of YNteez features you, the boys and a photoshoot. With all the risque outfits they've selected themselves, just how wholesome is this shoot going to be?

Tags: polycule, polyamorous, established relationship, sugar baby, blowjobs, sloppy blowjobs, deep throat, face fucking, face sitting, 69-position, male masturbation, teasing, orgasm denial, edging, light role play, oral sex, sex toys, squirting, pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel), slight free use, nipple play, peeping through windows, and group sex (foursome).

Previously on YNteez

****

Eight costumes. Eight sets. Eight times you'll have to change your outfit, hair and makeup over the course of three days. The exhaustion already started weighing on you, and nothing started yet. Standing in your private dressing room, you gazed at the rack of clothes in front of you. The producers told you the members picked the costumes themselves, so naturally the outfits are tailored to their taste. You looked at each of them while you waited on hair and makeup, and saw the different costumes the staff managed to procure. They certainly did not look cheap. You’d expected clearance rack outfits with flimsy fabric and lots of velcro and zippers. The current costume you held, an Animal Crossing character, was made of good material, your proper size, and could pass off as a real cosplay outfit. You put the costume on the rack, and turned to the large mirror behind you. 

You’d come to the set in a simple t-shirt and jeans, since you’d be changing three different times today. The stylists recommended you come as plain faced as possible, since any makeup you wore will be removed. The prospect of a photoshoot excited and worried you. The last time someone took photos of you, it’d been for your Companion portfolio. A photographer took a bunch of boudoir pictures with a few headshots thrown in to attract potential clients. You didn’t mind dressing down for a camera, since the outfits and makeup helped you hide behind them, but the photographer won’t be the only one present. A staff of at least twenty people will be filming, monitoring, adjusting, lighting, and observing your every move. The classroom episode was through hidden cameras, so there’d been only you and the boys. Now, there’d be people, which was different.

“There you are,” a voice said when the door opened. Seonghwa came walking into your dressing room, pecking your lips and looking over your face. “We’ve been looking for you.”

“The producers and stylists told me to wait here for them to show up with the cameras,” you replied. They mentioned interview moments during the episode to capture your thoughts and emotions. “Does it always take this long?”

He laughed, “Yeah, it does. It’s even worse for whoever is last in line to get their makeup and hair done. But, our stylists are fantastic, and I think you’ll love what they do with your looks. Minsu already showed me the look they’ll be giving you for my shoot.”

“What?” you said, disappointed. “Why did they show you and not me? It’s going on my face.”

“It’s supposed to be a secret, remember?” he said. He looked over to the clothing rack, then back at you with suspicion in his eyes, “Have you been looking in the clothing bags?”

“No,” you said innocently. “I would never spoil a surprise.”

“Mhm,” he remained unconvinced. He took a seat on a makeup chair next to yours, “I think I should stay here and, you know, supervise you. We don’t want you spoiling everything for yourself.”

You pouted, taking the seat in front of the vanity, “What about you? Don’t you have to get ready too?”

“I’m third in line,” he said. “They’re still working on Yunho.” He stared at you for a moment, then said, “Are you nervous?”

“A little bit,” you admitted. “I haven’t had my picture taken in a long time, and these aren’t like ‘normal’ photos either.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Oh come on. Me in skimpy outfits you guys personally picked out? On sets of your design and you control what sort of pictures we take? They’re not going to be exactly PG are they?”

“No, not at all,” he said with a laugh. “What I picked is pretty wholesome and simple,” he then smiled, “But I know a few members whose outfits are way more revealing than mine.”

“Like who?” you asked, wanting to suck a spoiler out of him. 

“Nope,” he shook his head, amused by your eagerness, “Not telling you. You’ll have to wait and see.”

“You won’t give me a little hint? A tiny one?” 

“You already know mine, since you looked in the clothing bag,” he accused with a grin. 

“I did not,” you lied. “I haven’t even touched those bags.”

“Liar,” he nudged your foot with his, “That zipper was all the way up when I left here. Now it’s like an inch or two down.”

“Is not. You’re remembering it wrong.”

Your insistence made him chuckle. “At least your shoot is going to be the course of three days,” he said, “Our shoots usually run all day.”

“Three of you today, three tomorrow, and the two after that,” you said, “I wonder why they did it that way?” you looked at him expectantly. 

“Have no idea,” he shrugged, pretending you didn’t notice him. 

“Not one?”

“Nope.”

You moved over to him, and took a seat in his lap. “Could it possibly be because certain members of this relationship won’t be able to contain themselves and might get a bit naughty with me?” you rested against him, fingers dancing on the collar of his shirt. “They might not be able to control themselves,” You heard him audibly inhale as you drew closer, “And let their natural instincts take over?”

“Maybe,” he put his hand on your thigh, giving it a small squeeze before bringing his lips an inch from yours, “But can you blame them? You know exactly what to do to tempt them, and you do it well.”

“I've had a lot of practice.”

The both of you kissed right as someone else entered the room. The stylists came in with their bags full of supplies, and the producer followed with a camera crew. Your hands suddenly felt clammy, and you wiped them on your jeans. Seonghwa noticed this and squeezed you again, but more affectionately than before. His reassuring grin relaxed you somewhat, yet seeing everyone setting up for the episode distracted you again. 

“Seonghwa,” the producer called to him, “We’re going to start filming now. The stylists next door wanted me to tell you they’re ready for you.”

“Alright,” he nodded. He pecked your cheek, then said, “See you out there.”

“See you.”

You’d know the KQ film production team for a long time, so they felt more like friends than colleagues. The clothing stylist, Juwon, came right over to you. Slender and narrow, Juwon never failed to make you drop-dead gorgeous with his outfit designs. He hugged and kissed both your cheeks when he spoke:

“Ready for today?”

“As ready as I can be, honestly,” you said. 

“Don’t worry,” he assured you, “Minsu and I are going to make you look absolutely divine. Those boys will be regretting their choices when they see you. Come on, let’s get you dressed.”

He took the bag with Seonghwa’s name tag on it, and opened it up. Inside, you saw the green plaid vest, white shirt, and a mini skirt. 

“Who is it?” you asked him, hoping he’d answer you. 

“It’s this character in that game he likes,” he answered you. “I have the lingerie that goes with it too.”

Behind the costume was the white mesh and lace lingerie set they’d sent you a month ago. The mesh parts went over your breasts, sex, and ass, but were bordered by lace designed strings. The matching stockings and garter belts were no doubt Seonghwa’s idea. Right away, you took the bag and went behind a curtain to change. You’ll have to do this two more times. How did models do it every day? You pulled on the lingerie, the belts, the stockings, and the costume itself. The outfit was snug on your skin, and you noticed the shirt and vest revealed way more cleavage than the original character. The skirt also goes high up your thighs so that any bending of your thighs or legs will lift it up further. Yes, very wholesome indeed. 

Seonghwa always liked leaving something to the imagination. 

“You look so cute!” Juwon cheered when he saw you. “Give us a twirl…Yes, excellent. It fits you perfectly, and isn’t too showy. Seonghwa said he wanted it to be sexy, but not so much that it ruined the illusion of the character.”

“He would say that,” you agreed. “He’s never liked me in lingerie that shows too much of my body. Mostly babydoll dresses or open front ones are good enough for him.”

“Ugh, you’re going to knock him dead,” Juwon awed, unable to look away from you. “That photobook is going to be priceless.”

Yes, you’d forgotten the photobook idea. You’d suggested it during a YNTEEZ meeting. Since they’re going to be doing it anyways, you thought about perhaps using the photos to make a photobook. Atinys can purchase them online and get special bonus gifts. You did give a small spoiler on your personal Instagram account where you’d promoted the group’s newest album; you mentioned their photobook and soon having one of your own, which intrigued a lot of people. 

“Yeah, I forgot the photobook. I hope people like the pictures though,” you said, knowing not everyone will be thrilled for you to be in the photos. They wanted shirtless Seonghwa, not a half-nude YN. 

“Oh come on, not all of them hate you,” the director assured you. “They’ll be into it.” 

You went over to Minsu next, who turned your chair around and pumped it to the right height. She smiled when your eyes met hers in the mirror. 

“You’re going to look fabulous today,” was her catchphrase whenever she worked on your face and hair. “Are you ready?”

“Ready,” you responded with a deep breath. “When was the last time I got this glammed up? KCon?”

“I think it was Global Dream Awards,” she answered, putting her makeup essentials on the counter, “When you wore that gorgeous purple gown. Ugh, I was so jealous of you. It looked amazing.”

“But it’s been a while since then,” you said, eyeing the materials on her counter. You then noticed an assistant taking out wig boxes from a container they’d wheeled into the room. “And plus there’s going to be loads of people in the room with us.”

“So?”

“One of the biggest points of these types of shows is the sex, and knowing my boys, it’s going to get steamy,” you felt knots already forming in your stomach. “I don’t think I can do that with so many people watching.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” she said, “You know that. Plus, you’ll have your boyfriends there, so you’ll be comfortable the entire time. You’ll get so wrapped up in each other, you won’t even notice the rest of us there.”

“I hope so.” 

“You’ll be fine,” she insisted. “Besides, today is only Seonghwa, Yunho, and Mingi. The sweeties,” she added a smile. 

“They're all sweeties.”

“Sweeties with a horny streak,” said Juwon from the clothing rack, searching for shoes in a box. 

Minsu then turned around to face you, moisturizer in hand. “Okay, let’s get you ready for your modeling debut.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes. She began prepping your face for makeup when the producer got the camera ready to film. Your nerves shivered inside you once you realized it was on by the red light in the camera. 

“YN, are you excited about today’s shoot?” he asked first. 

“I’m excited, but also a bit nervous. It’s been a while since I modeled for anyone before…”

His questions remained fairly innocuous. He asked you about your modeling experiences, which were very few and far in between, and if you’d made any guesses as to what the members have planned. You told him you guessed it’ll have to do with concepts they like or things they enjoy. Since the members will be part of the shoot, they will wear costumes similar to yours. 

When Minsu finished with your base makeup, she took out a face-paint palette and dipped a brush into the black section. Looking in the mirror, you noticed her covering the tip of your nose; then she dipped it into the white to start painting around your nose and mouth. 

Isabelle. You’re Isabelle from Animal Crossing, Seonghwa’s favorite comfort game. You only knew who she was because Seonghwa told you when you saw him playing. Your eldest boyfriend knew it so well, he could perfectly mimic their funny little language. When Minsu finished your makeup, she put your hair into a bald cap to prepare you for the wig. Short and blond, the bangs hung above at your eyebrows, and the rest of the hair fanned outwards in the back. Minsu attached a fake hair bun to the very top, tied there with a red ribbon with bells on it. You giggled as you moved your head, the little bells clinking in the process. They then attached yellow dog ears that drooped from the sides of your head. You trusted Minsu’s abilities enough that you knew they wouldn’t fall off. 

“Ah, you look so cute!” Minsu beamed. 

“Adorable!” Juwon agreed with a grin. “He’s going to love it.”

“It’s exactly as I pictured it in my head.”

“Thanks,” you grinned shyly. 

You hoped Seonghwa liked it most of all. You’d hate it if you went out there and the outfit isn’t what he envisioned for you. The camera then looked at you again. 

“How do you feel about this concept?” the producer asked you. 

“It’s very Seonghwa,” you laughed, admiring yourself in the mirror. “I knew he’d pick something he liked, but I’d guessed Star Wars since he likes that a lot. This is much cuter though.”

“Do you play Animal Crossing too?”

“Not that much,” you said. “I played it for a while when it first came out, but then I fell out of it. Seonghwa always tells me to play with him so we can visit each other’s islands,” you chuckled remembering the times he’d asked you so cutely to play with him, “And send gifts and stuff. I’m not as into it as he is, though.”

He turned when someone came into the dressing room to tell him they finished the members’ introduction to the episode. Funny. It’s your show, but they’re doing the intro. This didn’t bother you that much, and you followed them out onto the set. Minsu and Juwon kept you back from the rest of the group, putting you behind a curtain. Ahead of you, you saw staff members wheeling in a small stage. On it, you saw the familiar villager house from the game, a red triangle roof, cream colored walls and a red door. They’d done quite a good job with the set. It came with a bed of fake flowers, a mailbox, an apple tree beside the house, and the house was big enough for you to fit inside of. You spotted Seonghwa standing nearby while they finished putting things together. 

He'd never looked cuter. Seonghwa stood wearing an aqua and white floral shirt with khaki shorts with his nose painted and wearing pointed ears. You guessed he must be Tom Nook, a racoon character in the game. He looked sweet and adorable in his costume, but you know that can turn sexual at the flip of a coin.  

“Alright, YN, come on out,” the director called to you. 

Seonghwa’s eyes widened when you walked onto the set. They scanned you from top to bottom, and you smiled sweetly at him. He stood in awe of you, turning to the camera crew in disbelief, before looking back at you. You gave him a wide smile and said:

“Aw, you're the little bear guy!” 

Seonghwa held back a smile, “He's not a bear. He's a raccoon.”

“But isn't there already a raccoon? Raccoons are black and white, right?” 

“There is, but Tom is a brown one.”

“Eh, I still think he's a bear.” You hugged him around the middle, and he still embraced you, laughing with you. “A big bear with a cute nose.”

“He's a raccoon,” he squeezed you until you let out a small whine, then released you. He gave you a once over, then said, “You look so cute. It’s exactly how I imagined.”

“I’m happy you like it.” You glanced at the set, “Shall we go be the bear and the puppy?”

“He is a raccoon!” 

You giggled as you stepped onto the small set, and turned to the photographer nearby, “Hi, I'm YN.”

“I'm Nami, nice to meet you,” the photographer said, wearing a plain shirt and jeans. 

“Nice to meet you,” you replied. “Where do the bear and I start?-”

“-Tom is a raccoon!-”

“-We can start with some poses,” Nami laughed, “And we can do a few scene photos.”

“Okay, sounds good! What do you think, Tom?”

Seonghwa held back his laugh through a strained smile, hands on his hips, “That's fine.” 

Nami directed you both into the middle of the stage and the shoot began. It started with simple couple shots with lots of smiles, giggles and playful poses. You didn't know much about modeling, but years of doing promotional shoots made Seonghwa a natural. 

“Just be cute,” he said in one picture, where you both stood facing one another and pretending to rub your noses together. “Do cute faces and stuff like that, and you'll be fine.”

“Should I talk like they do too?” You teased when Nami finished taking photos of it. “How does it go? Meemeemoopmoop?”

“It does not sound like that at all,” he chortled. 

“Then how does it sound?” you giggled seeing his shy expression, and him turning away to the tiny house nearby. “Come on, do it,” you urged him, pouting and tugging his sleeve. “It’s cute when you do it.”

He let out a small stream of high-pitched squeaks that had you grinning widely. When he stopped due to his own laughter, he handed you a net. Small fake butterflies were stuck to the insides as if being caught, while his fishing pole had a multi-colored fish hanging from the hook. Nami directed him to take a seat on a bench by the house while you swish the net in the air pretending to catch butterflies. 

Having researched pin-up girl poses the previous night, you lifted one leg to your knee to show off the garter belts in Seonghwa’s direction. You could feel his eyes on you every time that skirt lifted up your thighs. Since you first met him, you knew Seonghwa preferred the more subtle suggestiveness. Flashes of cleavage or thighs grabbed his attention immediately, and he liked the baby doll dresses and bodysuit lingerie pieces you wore. Something skimpy, but not too showy. While you pretended to catch butterflies in various ways, Seonghwa sat there observing quietly. 

“Let’s have you both garden,” Nami said next after snapping close up and wide shots of the scene. “Just do whatever comes natural.”

You knelt beside a bed of fake colorful flowers, and Seonghwa took the space in front of you. He was standing with a pail and a small hand rake, while you pretended to be digging holes in the earth. This left you kneeling at his feet, looking up at him innocently while he stood over you. You kept your cleavage in full view for him, pulling and pushing down on the flowers in front of you. Nami’s camera clicked numerous times in a row as she captured the suggestive moment. Seeing him above you, his groin right above your head, you had the urge to grope him. He wasn’t the only one who enjoyed the innuendos going on at this shoot. You knew he picked this up when he knelt behind you, and bent down to your ear. 

“You must be getting pretty warm in that vest,” he said, hand going up your side to your chest. “Maybe you should take it off so you’re more comfortable?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you asked, pretending as if you brushed into him by accident. 

“I’m only thinking about you,” he insisted, fingers getting closer to the buttons of your vest. “It’s supposed to be a sunny day on an island. Gardening can be hard work and Isabelle might get warm wearing a little vest like this one.”

“But Isabelle is so innocent and sweet,” you said, putting his hand closer to your breast. Suddenly, it didn’t matter that Nami stood a few feet away, taking photos of this intimate moment. “I don’t think she’d just shed off her clothes like that.”

“She would if she had a bit of help. Kneel up for me.”

You dropped the hand rake, and pressed your back to his chest. His lips left small kisses on your neck as he unbuttoned the vest. The moment he pulled it off you, you turned to Nami. 

“Is this good or do you want us to do something else?”

“The apple tree,” she said, picking up on what you were really asking. “YN, you can be getting some apples from high up, and Seonghwa can be giving you a little boost.”

“Makes sense for his bear character-” you said, forcing yourself to leave Seonghwa’s arms for the fake apple tree nearby. 

“-He’s a raccoon!-”

“-He looks like the kind of guy that would make his islanders do all the work while he just sits there in his little shop taking their money,” you continued, grabbing a wicker basket of fake red apples. “The little charlatan,” you gruffed. 

This made the crew laugh with you and Seonghwa. “How’s he a ‘charlatan’?”

He stood holding the small ladder, his face closer to your lower back. “First off, you pay to go on this big island getaway, which in the name implies you’re going for a short time and not the rest of your life-”

“-It’s meant to be an experience-”

“-An experience in what it feels like to be hoodwinked!” another statement that made everyone laugh. “He never tells you what exactly is going to happen on the island until you arrive,” you said, reaching up into the branches and letting Nami take a few shots. 

“He shows you a video of island life!” Seonghwa reasoned. 

“On the plane ride! When you have no choice to turn back or not.”

“Guys, it’s a video game,” chuckled Nami. “It’s not supposed to make sense.”

“She only does this to tease me,” Seonghwa said, pinching your ass lightly. “Little brat…”

“You know I’m right,” you arched your back so your bottom sat closer to his face, “Anyway, the video makes you think all that stuff is already available on the island, but when you get there, you only see a bunch of empty houses and a campsite. I know I’d feel duped if it was me.” You then whispered to one of the cameras, “I think the bear is a cult leader.”

“He’s not a cult leader, stop it,” Seonghwa smacked your ass over the skirt, which only made you laugh more. 

“Seonghwa doesn’t play when it comes to AC,” you joked with the crew, and earned yourself another smack. 

You suddenly gasped when Seonghwa cupped both your buttocks for a gentle squeeze through your underwear. Cold hands and warm lips briefly pushed out any more taunts you’d have about Seonghwa’s game. But, you wouldn’t let him win. You pretended to reach for one of the lower hanging apples, which gave him the opportunity to feel underneath briefly. You gave another fake gasp, though it brought more warmth to your underwear. 

“Then, he makes YOU build his island and make it cool,” you said, “And if you want to upgrade your island, you gotta pay him construction fees and stuff. Like, dude, it is supposed to be a getaway, not a construction job!” You dropped the apple into your basket. “That’s my hard earned money, so I don’t think I should be paying the guy who dropped me on a deserted island. I mean, what happens if I don’t make enough money to upgrade my shabby tent or house because I got tricked into staying there, hm?”

“I’m sure Tom would take other forms of payment too,” said Seonghwa, placing kisses on your lower back while he kneaded your cheeks. Your sex stirred when he started feeling underneath your pantyline, “Any kind you can think of.” 

You let out a fake gasp, “So that’s his plan! Trick innocent, pure souls onto his island, takes all their money which causes them to have to do favors to get what they need. Disgusting bear.” 

“That’s not why he’s doing it, and he’s a raccoon,” Seonghwa’s laugh was muffled by your shirt. “He wants to give you a nice experience,” he slid both sides of your underwear between your cheeks, “He is a good businessman who wants to build a nice island.”

“Where he can start his own weird, depraved sex cult,” you said, despite the warmth between your thighs. You knew Nami continued taking photos of Seonghwa groping and kissing your backside. You pretended to be shy, hand over your mouth and shock in your eyes. “Psh, jerk. Taking advantage of people looking to get away from their stressful, boring lives.” 

“Speaking of tiny island homes,” interrupted Nami, “I think we should get some shots of you inside the house, YN.”

“And what does Seonghwa do?” you asked her, climbing down back into Seonghwa’s arms. You felt him yearning to touch and kiss you again, but fiercely restraining himself. 

“Tom is going to be…safeguarding her house,” she suggested with a knowing smile. 

You knew immediately what that meant, and walked into the house with the basket. The roof sat about a foot above your head, made of wood with cut out flowers in a box at the window. It was very well made. You opened the door to find nothing inside except a bedroom backdrop against the opposite wall. The window itself was wide and tall enough that Nami’s camera captured your top half at the right angle. You looked over Seonghwa standing outside the window, and couldn’t help noticing the slight bulge in his pants. 

“Safeguarding her house, huh?” you asked, eyes on your boyfriend. 

“Tom cares about the safety of his islanders,” said Seonghwa, leaning against the window. “You are an assistant to the Island Representative, and it’s important you’re safe from bugs on the island.” 

“Oh, of course,” you said sarcastically, “I’m sure it has nothing to do with him being a greedy, corporate pervert.” 

You started unbuttoning the few buttons left on your shirt, pretending as if Seonghwa wasn’t there. Soft clicks of the camera told you that Nami was capturing every second frame by frame as you undressed. You let the shirt slide off you bit by bit until you tossed it aside, your bra fully exposed now. Seonghwa stared down at your chest, acting as if he was hiding behind a curtain outside your window. No doubt the real scene is Tom Nook spying on an unsuspecting Isabelle. You then pulled your bra straps down your shoulders, and tugged the bra down enough to reveal the tops of your breasts. Seonghwa bit his bottom lip as you gently massaged your chest in front of him; the lace fabric brushed on your nipples, which only made them harder. 

Since Atinys over nineteen can purchase a NSFW version of the photobook, Seonghwa was free to unzip his shorts. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him slide his hand into his pants. His soft groan told you he’d grabbed hold of himself and started stroking. The image of his long, thick shaft in his hand made you bite the inside of your lower lip. You kept massaging your breasts over your bra for him, not glancing his way. When you pulled your bra down to right against your nipples, both of them just barely visible, Seonghwa groaned. You thought of his cock already throbbing and leaking in his hand, and wished you could suck him dry. 

The scene continued until you wore nothing but the lingerie set. Seonghwa was already pumping himself faster, his back arching and eyes half-open and gazing at you, turning into an erotic sight. He finally came when you removed your bra and played with your nipples. You couldn’t help the deep, throbbing inside your panties. It begged you to go over to him, tug down his shorts and let him fuck you through the window. You listened to Seonghwa groaning, then huffing as his orgasm subsided and he slumped against the window frame. Nami asked for a few shots of him having a post-orgasm, which required him to tug down his shorts to show his wet cock. 

“Hwa…” you whimpered. God, you needed him right then. Simply doing it yourself wouldn’t work, not with his big cock so close by and needing to be cleaned with your tongue. 

“What is it, baby?” he asked, smirking as he stroked his softening length to make it glisten. “Are you horny too?” He laughed when you nodded, pleading with him. When Nami had enough shots, you expected him to bring you closer, but he didn’t. “I think we can wait until later, no?”

“But Seonghwa,” you pouted, finally pushing yourself as close as your little window allowed, “I’m so wet.” You reached for his hand and he pulled away. 

“You’ve been quite bratty today,” he smiled wickedly, smugness in his eyes. “I don’t think you deserve it right now. Plus, you have two more sets to do too. I don’t think it’s fair to keep Juwan and Minsu waiting on you.”

A punishment for dissing his favorite game. You huffed, pulling up your bra, “It’s not as if Yunho or Mingi will say no to me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he planted a quick kiss on your lips, and moved to walk away, “Have fun, angel. See you soon.” 

His response left dread in your stomach. You pulled on a robe Nami gave you, then went back to the dressing room as per the director’s instructions. 

****

Yunho’s set was a small bedroom of green and black. A full bed sat beside a wide computer desk with a two monitor setup, and a comfortable computer chair. Valorant and other various game posters were plastered on the walls, as well as figurines sitting around the computer. You quite liked it.  Being the biggest gamer of the group, you weren’t surprised by the oversized Valorant t-shirt and tight, green briefs that Juwon presented you with in the dressing room. Yunho dressed casually, in a long shirt and shorts with socks, but you still liked the plain, simple look. You couldn’t help staring at his long, lean figure from afar. 

“Look at you,” he smiled, seeing your hair up in a bun with cat-ear headphones around your neck. “Aren’t you cute?”

“You think so?” 

You walked into his arms, hands on his shoulders as he pecked your lips. Your arousal from the previous shoot died down significantly, but it didn’t go away. Seonghwa likely told Yunho about his photoshoot, and the two will conspire together to make it worse. If anything, he’ll convince Mingi to join him in the torture. You considered the three men to be your angels, your “white swans”. They’re usually the most gentle and sweetest when it comes to sex, and even more so outside of the bedroom. Not that the other five couldn’t be sweet, but their harder sides tended to come out in bed, while your white swans remained gentle throughout. Though, they can be equally mean. 

“Very cute,” he said, his large hands resting on your hips. “I like this simple style on you. You look so cozy and cute,” he nuzzled your nose softly. He then said in a whisper, “And there’s less for me to take off you.”

“Yuyu,” you laughed, cheeks burning. That was his special talent: making a simple phrase dirty. “Let’s get the shoot done.” 

Nami directed you both towards the desk, and it went how you expected it to go. You sat on Yunho’s lap, both of you given controllers to act as a gamer couple. When you realized the game on the screen was a Youtube video and the controllers weren’t connected, you let out a soft giggle. Yunho looked over at you quizzically. 

“What’s so funny, huh?” he poked your stomach, which made you laugh more. 

“This reminds me of that porno we watched the other night,” you said. 

You didn’t watch porn videos with your boyfriends often, but when you did, it was mainly Yunho with a toy nearby. The other night after dancing and drinking, you’d put on one you thought he might like. It featured three women “playing” a video game before the boyfriend of one of them appeared, and started fondling and teasing them. Yunho didn’t mind it until he noticed one minor detail. 

“The controllers weren’t on,” Yunho blurted out incredulously, and you laughed again. “They’re there moving the sticks and pressing buttons but the controllers weren’t even turned on.”

“Baby, considering it was an adult film, I don’t think it matters,” you replied. 

“They could have made an effort, is what I’m saying,” he defended. “The game was going on in the video even after they stopped playing.”

“Only you would make a fuss about that,” you chuckled, kissing him softly. “So, you’re telling me that if you ever fuck me during a game, you want me to be actually playing instead of pretending?”

“It’d be hot,” he shrugged, smirking at the suggestion. 

“Hm, good to know.”

You straddled his lap with your back to him, and put the headphones on your ears. Nami took this cue to start taking photos again. Yunho brought you to his chest, his head on your shoulder as he also matched your pose. You shifted around on his lap every so often to feel his cock through your shorts. The sensation of his bulge growing against your ass brought back all the arousal from before. 

“I’ve always wanted to do this with you, you know,” you said in his ear, kissing the spot underneath it. “I’m surprised we haven’t done it yet.”

“Done what?” he asked, but he knew what you meant. 

“Give you a blowjob while you were gaming,” you answered, grinding onto his lap until he let out a low growl. “But you’re always so focused, I doubt you’d notice I’m there.”

“Trust me,” he said, “I’d notice if I had your pretty lips wrapped around my dick. I wouldn’t be able to focus on the game.” 

“But you’re such a pro at it that you’d win anyways,” you smiled. “I bet you can do it with your eyes closed,” you whirled your hips around, “While you’re fucking my throat until you cum.” 

“Seonghwa left you very horny, didn’t he?” he chuckled. 

“And you do too,” you added, almost forgetting the camera clicking beside you. Reluctantly, you stood up from Yunho’s lap to see his bulge starting to poke a tent in his pants. “Clearly, I have the same effect on you” 

“Always,” he admitted. 

Walking over to the bed, you both laid against the pillows. Yunho took up a Nintendo Switch that you recognized to be his, and started playing a real game on it. A bit of realism, you supposed. You also realized he gave you the exact opportunity you just described. 

“You can’t ride me,” Yunho said, pressing the ‘start’ button. Mario Kart. The man’s playing Mario Kart in the middle of a photoshoot with you nearly naked beside him. “You can only use your mouth or hands.”

“But what about-”

“-Mouth or hands, YN,” he glanced at you to repeat the order, then went back to choosing his character. “Should I play Mario or Bowser? Bowser has a cooler car though…”

You lifted his shirt as high as his position allowed, showing the camera Yunho’s stomach. While he did work out, he didn’t have the sculpted abdomen of San or Mingi. Sliding your hand further up, you rubbed your thumb over one of his nipples, which you knew excited him just as much. 

“I like Peach the most,” you said, pinching his nipple softly and knowing what it’s doing to him. 

“That’s just because you like her car and she’s a princess,” he gave a snort as the game started. 

“I think she’s a relatable character,” you lied, lifting his shirt to kiss at his sternum. Straddling his thighs, you started playing with both nipples while kissing up and down his stomach. “She’s a young lady with a lot of responsibilities who is constantly sought after by various men in power.”

“You have a very strange take on video games,” Yunho laughed, “Like with Valorant.”

“I don’t get it,” you grunted, going further down his body to his shorts. Cupping the outline of his cock, you realized he didn’t wear boxers underneath. The heat radiated against your hand, and you felt it grow harder under your touch. “Is it there a storyline of some kind?” 

“Not really,” he answered, the sound of the buttons being the only sound between you. “You make matches with different characters and gain XP to get more.” He glanced at you for a brief second, “You’d hate it.”

“I like games with a story,” you shrugged. You slowly felt up his thighs with soft kisses and squeezes, the muscles flexing when you hit a sensitive spot. The thought of his length inches away made your mouth water. You started rocking your hips for any form of friction, your clit pulsating much like the cock so close to you. “It gives me an objective,” you lowered your voice as you hovered over his groin, “Something to focus on and work through.” 

Only one layer separates you and his dick. No doubt he’d done this strategically after Seonghwa told him about the Animal Crossing shoot. You traced your hand over the outline poking through the thin fabric, his stomach tensing when you felt his tip. His length growing, you grabbed it through his shorts once it started rising. Yunho clearly had trouble concentrating as you stroked him to a full erection with his own clothes; he bit his lip when you kissed back up his stomach to his sternum. Teasing your boyfriend dragged out your own arousal, which made you grind into the flat mattress underneath. Your entrance clenched for something to grab onto, but fluttered when nothing came. Simply toying with Yunho while he ignored you for a game had your clit throbbing for his attention. You sat up and removed the shirt to reveal a dark green bra underneath. Everything inside you screamed to reach for his hand after you took off the bra, but he needed them to hold his console. Instead, you laid back on top of him and made sure his clothed hardon nestled between your thighs. 

“I don’t get the appeal of it though,” you said, sliding his shirt further up to take a nipple in your mouth. The soft flesh hardened once more and you heard Yunho intake a breath sharply. “You’re just shooting other people. It gets boring,” You made sure he felt your own nipples dragging up his stomach as you took the other nipple in your mouth. If only you had clamps to put on them; Yunho enjoyed that more than the others. “Can’t be that hard.”

He chuckled through a moan, shifting when you nipped at one with your teeth. “It is,” he replied. “You have to concentrate a lot, and be good at aiming. It’s not the game’s fault you suck at aiming.”

“I suck a lot of things,” you said, swirling your tongue around a nipple, “But aiming isn’t one of them.”

Were there not a whole staff of people and a photographer nearby, Yunho would’ve put the switch aside and rolled you onto your back. 

“I beat you in every match when you’ve attempted to play,” he said, playing another round of Mario Kart. 

“Because you have more experience than me,” you pouted, starting to kiss back down his body once more. Yunho paused the game to remove his shirt, since his cheeks and neck started to flush. Atinys would love this just as much as you. “So, it’s not fair.”

“Maybe when we get home, I can teach you how to play properly,” he suggested, “Since your approach to video games is ‘figure it out as I play’. Tutorials be damned.”

“Tutorials take the fun out of it,” you giggled. 

Yunho moaned once you pulled off his shorts, and took his cock in your hand. You realized he’d stopped playing, watching you as you started licking up his shaft to his tip. A part of you knew that this photobook is really for Atinys who’d want to see the members naked, so your naked body won’t be the focus of the photos. Even then, you saw Nami hovering to take photos of Yunho’s lust filled eyes and parted lips. You knew you’d love these photos as much as the fans. Stroking him lightly, you went back up his body to the base of his neck. Yunho’s long neck always looked pretty with hickies against the peachy skin. You sucked on the tender flesh as he started grinding into your hand. He clawed at the sheets underneath you both, eager to touch you but forcing himself to stay still. Good.

“Don’t you want to touch me, Yuyu?” you whined, “I love it when you touch me with those big hands of yours.” You kissed up his neck to his ear, giving it a soft nibble before saying, “When you grab my breasts while you’re pounding me into your bed…When you finger me…When you slide them into my mouth like this…” you took one hand and put two long digits in your mouth, humming softly. 

“Tease,” he chuckled through gritted teeth, removing his thumb to trace your bottom lip. “You know I do. But, I think I’m pretty okay with you touching me.” 

You went back down to his crotch where his cock started bumping against his lower stomach. Giving it a long, flat lick from bottom to top, you brought the reddening tip into your mouth. His dick throbbing on your tongue, pre-cum starting to slowly leak out, you imagined his tongue languidly rolling around your clit. Moving your hand in time with your mouth, giving soft squeezes right to the tip to make him groan, you thought of his mouth latched to your pussy. Lips would be wrapped around your clit as he suckled it gently, every groan vibrating against your clitoris. You pictured his hands grasping your buttocks, squeezing and spanking them lightly as his tongue lashes at your sex. When you felt yourself grinding against the mattress, you started riding the sensation as you pushed him to the back of your throat. Your moans rumbled in your throat, cut off and gagged by his thick tip. 

"Fuck, baby," Yunho moaned, hands sliding into your hair just to touch a part of you, "Fuck, yes, just like that." His encouragement made you let out a pitiful moan. When he looked down to see you humping the bed, he chuckled. "I bet you're absolutely aching down there, huh?" 

“Mmm-hmm,” you gave a muffled reply that you made sure he felt. 

“Let me see.”

You knelt up from your position and pulled down both shorts and panties. Yunho’s eyes, half-open and driven by lust, zeroed in between your thighs. He reached down to the pool of wetness nestled in your folds, spreading it around your lips and clit as you squirmed in place. Shifting positions so his head rested at the side of the bed, you knew this new position gave Nami a glimpse of your aching center inches from Yunho’s mouth. Gentle hands smoothed up and down your back as you continued sucking him again. 

“I can’t stand to see my kitten like this,” he purred, kissing your inner thigh. “I hate leaving you wanting more.”

“Yunho, please…” you whimpered, knowing better than to rest your hips right on his face even if you wanted to. 

You clutched his thigh the moment you felt his tongue on you. In this angle, Atinys will see Yunho’s expert mouth skills while also seeing his tongue glistening from spit and your juices. You were still aware enough to pull off him, jerk his wet cock a few times for the light and camera to capture it. Yunho kept his licking light and teasing, but that was enough to drive you wild. After a few more licks, you started shuddering and quaking on top of him. Sensing your orgasm approaching, Yunho pulled your lips apart and focused directly on your clit. Sparks of sensitivity joined the tightness threatening to explode any moment. After a few deep grunts and groans, Yunho forced himself deep into your throat as thick, hot cum shot from the tip. Taking it slow, you breathed through your nose to avoid suffocation and quickly swallowed the oozing substance. You made sure to eventually pull away for shots of cum leaking from the head and in between the slit to his shaft. Yunho always came a lot when you had sex. Mostly because he didn’t pursue you as much as other members, preferring to save sex for special moments instead. Not that you minded. You swallowed every drop regardless of how much it was. 

Yet, he pulled you off once he finished. The phantom sensation of his tongue lingered, but quickly disappeared. A frustrated whine escaped you once again. “Yuyu!” you pouted, shaking on the bed to try tempting him, “I didn’t finish.”

“I didn’t say you would,” he breathed, smirking at your desperation. He leaned over to you, kissing you deeply, “Don’t worry. Mingi’s next,” he muttered to you, giving you the shirt to throw on over your naked body, “And he never refuses,you anything.” 

“How do you know?” 

“He’s been watching this whole time,” he shifted his eyes to the corner where you’d entered through. In the darkness, you could almost make out a shape hiding behind the curtain. Seeing a glimpse of an arm, you guessed it might be him. “And I know he’s rock hard by now.”  

“I would imagine so,” you replied, spreading your legs slightly in his direction. “Is it slutty of me to say that I can’t wait for it?” 

The figure shifted around when you said it within earshot. 

“Very slutty,” Yunho answered, kissing your cheek, “But we like that.” 

“What’s his theme?”

“Can’t tell you.”

“A hint then?”

“Nope. Now, get back to the dressing room,” he said, nuzzling your neck until you giggled. “Before I get tempted and start teasing you again. Mingi’s waiting.” 

The both of you laughed, but you still forced yourself off the bed and out of his embrace. Anyone else might feel embarrassed by what just happened, but you only worried about the taste still in your mouth. Nothing a lemonade cup doesn’t fix. 

***

You smiled widely at the pastel pink crop top and white shorts waiting in the dressing room. Juwon said Mingi chose a pastel kawaii appearance for you, since he always likes your ‘cute’ outfits. Juwon dressed you in the outfit, complete with white tennis shoes and rainbow knee-high socks while Minsu added heavy blush on your cheeks and faded lip gloss. She made your eyes appear larger, made your nose smaller, adding freckles shaped like stars and a little heart jewel to your makeup. Hair clipped back, they added pink and purple with Pusheen hair clips. 

It was utterly and sickeningly adorable. You never felt cuter, and the set amplified your appearance somehow. Walls painted bright yellow, the fluffy carpet matched the purple and yellow bed dotted with strawberries and strawberry milk cartons. Several squishmallow plushies covered the headboard, and you didn’t stop yourself from diving into them. 

“Can I keep these?!” you asked, hugging a birthday-themed Pusheen plushie, “Ah, I want them all.”

“We’ll see,” said the director. 

You already started deciding which ones you’d be stuffing in your duffle bag when you noticed something tucked underneath the stuffed toys. Pulling it out, you saw it was a basic porn magazine. A half-naked woman knelt in front of white backdrop, giving you a seductive expression. You flipped through it to see more naked women in various poses, and wondered what it could be for until you saw the rabbit vibrator sitting underneath a boba-tea shaped plush toy. You laughed, turning on the pink and translucent toy to feel it vibrate in your hand. Mingi will want to use it, and that makes you hornier. 

“I’m guessing you like it then?” Nami asked, approaching the stage. 

“I do,” you grinned, picking up a Pusheen sushi plush, “I knew Mingi’s would be something cute. He always says he likes my ‘cute side’.” Yes, you’re taking sushi Pusheen. 

“He was very descriptive in what he wanted,” she told you. “He even picked out the plushies on the bed. He said he wanted it to be ‘realistic’ to your tastes.”

“Does that include the toy and porn mag?” The two of you laughed. 

You wondered how long this innocence will last before his boner takes over. “Do you consider Mingi a cute person?” asked a producer. 

“Very,” you smiled, nodding as you held a Hello-Kitty angel plush. “I know on stage he’s all sexy and intimidating, doing all his hip thrusts and expressions, but in real life, he’s an angel. He always cares about others, sometimes more than himself, and he’s so loving.” It brought on a bout of sadness, knowing the internal struggles Mingi feels on occasion. The time he’d taken a hiatus for his mental health scared you the most, since you’d seen it bring him to his lowest point. It made your heart ache. “Ever since I met him, he’s told me he wants to be someone I can lean on when I’m sad. He heard from other idols that Companions can have it rough because of their idols’ schedules or that they have to manage multiple members, and he worried about me. So, yes, he’s a very sweet person.” 

Though, you didn’t mention that your sweetheart had a dirty side. Yes, he could be submissive at times, but not always. Seeing your outfit and the set, Mingi wanted to corrupt his cute kitten. The thought alone made your clit pulse again. When Mingi came out, you weren’t surprised. In a sleeveless black shirt, baggy black pants, with several chains and rings, Mingi dressed up as the bad boy to your innocent character. Seeing his muscled arms and sides made you shudder; the sight of his rings had your thighs clenching. He came right over to you, unable to focus on anything but you on the bed.

“You look so pretty,” he said between kisses, “Much prettier than I thought.”

“Thanks,” you beamed, giving a sweet smile. “Why this?”

“Because,” he kissed you again, sitting down and bringing you into his arms, “Ever since that classroom shoot I haven’t stopped thinking about you like this.” He cupped your chin, looking over your blush and freckles, “A sweet, innocent girl who's secretly a total slut.” You shuddered when he kissed your neck, starting at the top by your ear and going down, “Who watches porn and plays with herself all the time.” 

“And you’ll be the tough guy who catches me?” You guessed, knowing it was a fantasy of his.

“Yeah,” he answered. “Who else would I be, hm?”

“I think we should get started now,” said Nami, setting up her camera again. “Mingi, you could go by the door and pretend you’re peeking in her room. YN, you can pull out the mag and just do what comes natural to you.”

Your arousal reigniting, you didn’t hesitate to open the magazine to a random page and spread your legs apart. Nami got full shots of the scene, capturing Mingi poking his head in the door to watch you. You grabbed the vibrator to slide up and down your clothed sex, only just feeling the head cast over your slit over and over. You whined at the tight sensations coming back to you. The woman in the photo was in a bathtub, rose petals clinging to her wet, soapy skin, as she delicately touched herself. It reminded you of the times Mingi caught you in a bathtub or a shower. You learned quickly he liked the “catching-you-in-the-act” scenario, and you sometimes did it just to tease him.

Nami then instructed Mingi to open the door and look at you in shock, and you did the same thing. A few shots later, Mingi is on the side of the bed and holding the toy. The magazine opened to a new page beside you, neither of you paid attention to it as he slid off the shorts to reveal your soaked panties. Pure white, the cotton fabric did nothing to hide your wetness and Mingi licked his lips.

“Naughty,” he said, kissing from your chest to your neck, “Did Seonghwa and Yunho get you that worked up?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, savoring the feeling of his lips on your skin. You looked down to see him lazily slide the toy up and down between your legs. “God, I wanna cum so badly.”

“I know, baby,” he stopped the teasing to lift your shirt over your breasts, “And we’ll get there soon. Don’t worry.”

You kept an innocent face as he pulled down your bra to reveal your tits. Nami took shots of him sucking the hard nubs; Mingi made sure she saw his tongue flicking and swirling around them after every suckle. You couldn’t stop yourself from wriggling underneath him. Everything leading up to the point inflated the balloon waiting to burst inside you. Their touches. Their kisses. It all sent you spiraling, and you didn’t care about the crew watching nearby. You didn’t care if this turned into softcore porn for Atinys to enjoy. You only cared about Mingi using his lips and his toy on you before fucking you himself. 

“Mingi,” you cried, “Put it in me, please.” 

“Soon,” he promised, “You’ll get it soon. Here…”

He turned on the vibrator and pressed it to one of your nipples. The tip tickled the supple skin and sent sparks through the center. He gently swished it over each one until you were writhing on the bed. You thought you might finish right there before he suddenly stopped. He chuckled at your pathetic mewling, then removed his shirt. His body, well defined, was mouthwatering. Reaching forward, you brought him close to kiss him deeply. It gave you an excuse to feel his soft muscles and smooth skin.

“Stroke me,” he murmured as he unzipped his pants.

He didn’t need to say it twice. He knelt beside you so you could easily withdraw him from his boxers. Already rock hard, it sprung out once you pulled them down and you instantly took hold of him. A low groan escaped him as you began lightly stroking him. Atinys said they loved his size, and so did you. After stroking him for a short while, envisioning it buried hilt-deep inside, you blinked up at him innocently.

“Oppa,” you said innocently, “Can I put it in my mouth like in class? I really like doing it now, and Mr. Jeong says I’ve gotten better.”

“Yes,” he breathed, eyes full of lust and focused on you. “Go ahead.”

Slowly, you slipped his tip into your mouth. Nami took photos of his euphoric expression, catching closeups of your lips around his length and his muscles tensing from the pleasure. You’d almost forgotten her and the crew in the heat of the moment. Something in you wanted to be more impressive than usual. Sliding him further into your mouth, you stayed flushed to him to keep his cock near your throat. Mingi groaned deeply at this, unable to stop his hips from pushing forward. The toy in his hand went back to your pussy, the distance only putting the tip against you. He only broke away from you to pull down your panties, exposing your dripping sex to the camera. Once he was back, you continued working him with both your hand and mouth. Twisting your hand in every stroke drove him crazy, and he rapidly rubbed the toy over your pussy so you moaned around him.

“Just like that,” he huffed, “Just like in class. You’re doing such a good job.”

“I’ve been practicing,” you said, playing along as you licked his dripping tip.

“Oh yeah?” he chuckled, tapping it on your tongue before pushing back inside. “With the other guys?” You nodded, and he grinned. “Slutty girl,” he forced himself deep in your throat to gag you, “We’ve got you well trained, don’t we?”

“Yes,” you coughed, “I can’t stop touching myself now.” You slobbered over his tip, making sure the clicking camera caught it, “It’s all I think about. All I want is your cocks deep inside me,” you gave a whimper before putting him back in.

“I’ll remember that for our next class,” he said, putting the toy on your stomach, “So you can show everyone what you’ve learned. Like how you use toys. Put this in there for me, and show me how you use it.”

You didn’t hesitate to grab the rabbit toy and push the tip inside. Moaning around his width, you slid the vibrating toy in and out of your tightness. The light buzzing joined your muffled moans; the rabbit ears continuously pressed to your aching clit while the curved tip pushed on your g-spot. Mingi muttered occasional encouragement and praise as you let your pleasure fully take over. At one point, you held it inside, causing your legs to lift and quake from the sensations overpowering you. It moved to the pulsing of your walls, and you nearly came hands-free.

“No, no, no,” Mingi said, removing the toy and smiling when you whined, “You don’t get to cum before me. This is all for me,” he rubbed your throbbing clit with his hand, rapidly moving it side to side, “This is meant to pleasure me, not you.”

“Mingi!”

“Keep sucking my dick,” he ordered, shoving himself back inside, “And fucking your pussy.”

A bit more forceful this time, you relished in the change as you obeyed his command. The both of you watched the other come undone. The sweetness Mingi was known for shed entirely, turning into a hard dom who’d edge you as long as he liked. You still hadn’t gotten the complete hang of it, even after a few practice sessions with Hongjoong. You knew once that orgasm approached, you’d chase it down. With Mingi fully fucking your mouth, it was only a matter of time. The buzzing on your cunt and his length penetrating your throat, you started shaking and moaning louder.

“Stop,” he said, reaching around to take the toy from you. You kicked your feet and cried, though this was muffled by the dick in your mouth. “I don’t care,” he replied, hearing your protest, “I haven’t finished yet. Make me cum and I’ll think about letting you finish.”

You did what you knew he liked: working the tip with your tongue. Each time he slid in or out, you made sure your tongue grazed the wrinkled underside of the head. It had been when he leaned forward for a different angle that the bed dipped on either side of you.

“Look how pretty our little dongsaeng is,” cooed Seonghwa, pushing stray hairs from your temples. “She takes it so well, doesn’t she?”

“Every time,” Yunho answered, grabbing the rabbit toy. He turned it back on and put it close to your clit. “I give her private lessons, and she’s always so good for me.”

“I should join,” he replied. “I could use the practice and you know she loves more than one.”

“Fuck, I’m so close,” Mingi panted, not showing you any mercy as he choked you with his cock in different intervals. “I’m so close. Keep sucking me like that, just like that.”

He kept your cries muffled as Yunho pushed the toy back inside you. Moving tortuously slow, you shook and twitched to the teasing sensation. Even at this speed, you felt yourself close to your orgasm.

“Make him cum, YN-ssi,” Yunho said, “Make him cum in your throat like you do with me. I know how much you love it.” He gradually picked up the pace, “Our sweet YN loves cum.”

You did and you hated that they knew that. Soon, Mingi gripped the headboard tightly as he hunched over. Muscles tight and hard in their constriction, he shuddered as he came. Thick, hot and slightly tangy, Mingi’s cum filled your mouth and throat. You swallowed what you could manage before he withdrew, strings of it coming out with him. Nami grabbed photos of those when the other two moved away to give her space.

When Mingi finally dismounted, the other two converged on you. Seonghwa licked and sucked on your breasts while Yunho kept your legs wide open for the toy.

“Go on, baby,” Seonghwa groaned, “You can cum now. You’ve been such a good slut; you deserve it.”

“Yo-you promise?”

“We promise,” Yunho said, not holding back with the toy, “We want to see you cum for us. You look so pretty when you do.”

Streams of curses escaped you as your orgasm finally hit. All the pressure inside you came out in small uncontrollable spurts. Their constant praises and light touches only helped you along. You thought it might go on forever, and you wanted it to, chasing it down by pushing into the toy. The vibrating ears suddenly spiked your sensitive clit, making you close your legs before Yunho forced them back open. He didn’t stop despite the little sparks radiating inside. 

“Aw, look at the little mess you made,” Seonghwa grinned, nuzzling your cheek. “You’re leaking all over.”

“Someone should clean that up,” said Yunho, who didn’t hesitate to start licking the trails leaking out of you. Nami took the opportunity to get a few quick shots.

You let out soft cries as Mingi and Yunho took turns lapping and sucking up your juices. As Seonghwa gently soothed you, a part of you wished the crew would leave you with them. They’d gotten their pictures and shots. They could go now.

“How about we continue this at home, hm?” Seonghwa suggested as he kissed your cheek. “You’re more comfortable there and we’d be alone.”

“Please,” you said, finally taking in the people there. You didn’t think you’d feel this way afterwards. Heat filling your cheeks, you sort of hid in his shoulder which made the three men laugh softly.

“Now is when you’re shy?” he teased, kissing your temple. “Come on. We’re done here.”

They properly cleaned you with warm, damp towels given to them by the staff, giving you more praise and kisses as they went. Juwon brought over a robe and comfortable clothes for you. This felt different from the previous episode, since then there’d been no staff watching you together. It almost killed the bliss currently coming over you. Even if they weren’t, you imagined some seeing you differently now that they’d seen what you’re like in bed. A part of you wondered, as you got into the van an hour later, if you’d end up regretting this decision. It hit you that people would be seeing most of the photos, and watching the episode. You liked to think the staff would make it tasteful and not so graphic, since they’d done that with the classroom episode. But, the point of Companion shows was the sex; it was the main focus that drew people 19 and over in.

“Come here,” Yunho brought you into his arms once you arrived home, kissing your neck and lifting your shirt.

Clothes ended up on the floor leading to his bedroom, where the three of them cornered you on the bed. Soon, the four of you were whimpering, moaning and groaning as you tangled in each other. You couldn’t get enough of each man. You rarely felt so desperate for their touches before. By the time it was over, you became a pile of sweaty, panting puddles on Yunho’s bed. Curling up close to him, his arm around your waist and nose buried in your hair, you slowly fell asleep. 

You couldn’t think of a better place to be. 

****

Y/N: heeeeey been a while since I did one of these! God, can anyone stop these folks from getting it on?? No, and nobody wants to either! I hope you guys liked this one, and reblog/like <3

[bbokicidal]

7 : 1 5 | B . C H

── .✦ content warning : fem!reader, light choking, dom!chris, pinv (unprotected), use of 'good girl, babygirl', creampie lol

Stray Temptations ; Bbokicidal 4K Event

Proposal : Boyfriend Experience Staff Member Requested : Christopher Bang Meeting Time: 7:15 AM | Wednesday Morning

Note: The reader is attempting to apply for a job at the club in this scenario.

[Location : Main Office : 7:15 AM]

Your heels click against the black tile as you step into the office, away from the hard marble-like flooring and into the carpeted room that promises a brighter future. Or, maybe not brighter; Perhaps there was a better word to use, such as… decadent, or luxurious. His cologne had stained the room; Leather with a hint of lavender and spice. His desk is black as night; An equally dark marble slate sitting at the countertop and holding a monitor, a small stack of papers, and a few decorations such as a picture of himself and one of his staff members - someone he’s especially close with - as well as a small cup that holds scissors and a few all-too-fancy pens. 

Chris sits behind his desk, leaning back in the leather-padded chair. One arm drapes over the rest while the other sits forward against his desk, a pen twirling idly between his fingers. “Sit,” he says, his voice rough and heavy.

You can’t help but feel like he’s already pulled your clothes from your body as you sit in the chair opposite his desk. 

Chris’ body pushes forward, his elbows coming to rest on the desk and his hands move over the stack of papers. He sets them aside so they’re out of his way - so he can see as much of you as possible from where he sits. “I heard you’ve spoken to the staff; Discussed wanting a job here with our Assistant Director.”

“Yes,” Your reply is unsteady; Your voice wavers and Chris’ words feel as though they pierce right through your own with how sharp and precise they are. “I’m just looking for a job. Any position, really, I’m not picky, I just -”

“Mhm,” he hums, his eyes wandering slowly away from your own and down towards your lips as you babble on about just wanting a source of income. “I’ll be honest,” He starts to cut you off, tired of hearing you speak when your mouth could be put to use in much more entertaining ways. “I’d like to see for myself if you’re fit to work here.”

Your breath catches in your throat at his words. “See for yourself?”

“I’m sure you’re very aware but this isn’t just a normal job. You’ll be under a lot of pressure working here - Your job is to satisfy the clients no matter what they need, so long as you’re comfortable.” His brow quirks. “You need to be able to keep up. And who better to test you than myself?”

Chris stands slowly from his chair, rounding the desk that separates the two of you. He stops in front and leans himself back against it, hips perched perfectly against the edge as he reaches to you. His thumb brushes over your jaw.

“Are you nervous, sweetheart?”

You shake your head. Of course you are - This is the owner of the club you’re applying to, standing in front of you like a predator staring down it’s prey and ready to strike at any moment. Your heart is slamming in your chest and apparently your nerves are visible on your expression despite the shake of your skull.

“Bold enough to lie to me.” His body bends at the hip, leaning down so his lips can capture your own. His tongue slides over yours in a way that tells you everything you need to know; He hasn’t even confirmed that you’ll be working for him and yet, he already owns you. Chris lets his hands fall to your sides, gently coaxing you up and out of the chair you’d settled in, and as he guides you to switch places with him your resume lands untouched by him atop his desk. Long forgotten and probably to never be looked at. If you passed this ‘test’ you were sure to get the job.

Your thighs settle against the edge of the deep marble and the owner’s hands come down around your thighs, gently pulling you up to sit atop it as he pushes in between. “This attire,” Chris breathes heavy against your lips, his eyes glancing down at the white button up and the too-short pencil skirt hugging your hips. “A perfect mix of showing you mean business while also proving you’re quite the slut,” Chris hooks a finger in the garter he’d caught sight of earlier just beneath the hem of your skirt, snapping it against your thigh with a smirk.

Your gasp is like music to his ears when his hand pushes further beneath the fabric, his fingertips brushing slowly over the sopping material between your legs.

“You want this job bad enough to be soaked,” He chuckles. “Is that a part of you showing me you’re fit for the position or did I just happen to do that to you?”

You breathe heavily, lashes fluttering in an attempt to regain your consciousness. You feel like the world is blurring around you with how close he is; His suffocating cologne, his shoulders blocking the view of the door with how broad he is. You whimper, glancing up at him. “Take it or leave it.”

“Just be a good girl and keep your legs open for me.”

His words catch you off guard as they’re accompanied by a smack to your outer thigh, the man standing between them sinking down to his knees. He pushes the fabric of your skirt up to bunch around your waist, his eyes darting to meet your own as he leans in. His breath is hot as it fans over your skin - and just the feeling of him so close to you makes you moan.

His finger hooks into the fabric of your panties and pulls them to the side before he allows himself to indulge. It’s as if he wants to learn and remember every inch of your pussy, his tongue stroking over your entrance broad and flat and dripping with spit that pools under his chin against his desktop. Chris breathes out again, the tip of his tongue flicking over your clit before swirling around the bundle of nerves while he listens to the sweetest sounds falling from your lips.

Chris looks up just in time to see your head falling backward in awe, his smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You fall apart quite easily,” He teases. “Are you going to come just from the feeling of my tongue?”

It’s a bit embarrassing how quickly the pressure builds within you; His hands come to hold against your hips, pressing you down against his desk to keep you still for him as his tongue lathes over you again before dipping into your entrance to get a better taste. It makes him moan this time, and each time he dives in for a little more - pushes a little further - you end up whining as the tip of his nose nuzzles right against your clit.

His tongue continues flicking over your clit even as you come against it, the man greedy with the way he laps up everything that threatens to drip onto his desk. He stands slowly (and by God, he sort of regrets getting on his knees. This carpet sucks ass…), his mouth glistening with your essence and his eyes dark with both want and need. He’s greedy, alright; Downright selfish for putting you through this.

“Still up for taking the position?” Chris quips, his smile brief but genuine as he leans in closer to you. His hands press into the desk on either side of your hips as he listens to your ragged and shaky breathing as you try to bring yourself back to reality.

Your words betray you - Your mind fails you. Nothing comes to your senses as you look up at the man between your thighs, nodding slowly in response to his question.

Chris can’t help the way his smirk grows as he leans in closer, so close to your ear that the whisper that falls from his lips makes you shudder and tremble at the invisible tone promising ecstasy. 

“Perfect,” He sighs, “Because we’re not quite done yet.” His voice is a low growl against your ear, “Be a good girl and strip for me.”

Chris steps back just enough to allow you to do so. With the skirt bunched against your waist, you opt to leave it there and instead just push off your panties and the garter that he had revealed a while back. Your hands fumble with your top, ripping open the buttons in a haste to please the man before tugging off your bra as well. 

Christ never allows his gaze to leave you, his pupils blown wide with lust. “What a good girl, listening so well for me..” he murmurs, eyes tracing the curves of your body like he wants it to be sat on the shelf in his office - Like he wants you to be his greatest possession. “Now put your hands behind you for me.”

You obey, your eyes burning holes into his own with the way you hang onto every word - waiting for the next command and ready to prove yourself to him; You’re fit for this job, you know it. You lean back on your hands, your thighs parting on instinct for the man standing between them. You know what he’s going to ask and you beat him to it.

“To be honest,” Chris sighs. His belt is undone with just one hand and it seems like a skill he’s mastered over time. “I could have hired anyone for this position. But you,” His voice held a soft growl, “You walked in here and I just knew I owned you before you even asked for the position.”

His cock slaps against his abdomen, leaking and wetting his button down as his hand pumps the length slowly. He strokes himself almost lazily as he looks you over, taking in the sight before he allows himself to dive in. Yes, he’ll admit it now; He likes to edge himself a little. “Ready?”

God, as if you weren’t ready for it the second you walked into the office. “Yes.”

“You can do better than that.”

Your breathing hitches. “I want your cock,” You gasp. “Please.”

His cock stretches you out damn near perfect. Thick and heavy, he pushes into you with care. Of course, he’s going to ruin you; But he does care about your comfort - even if he puts on a stoic expression and acts as the ‘big bad boss’ lingering around the club.

Your moans echo off the walls of his office, desperate and craving more. He can’t do much else for you, considering he barely gives you time to adjust before he sets a brutal pace. His thrusts are deep, the desk creaking once or twice beneath you as it bears the weight of his hips slapping into your own. You’re almost sure he’s going to bruise your thigh with how tight he’s holding onto it.

Chris breathes heavily, looking up at you as his hair falls over his eyes and obscures his vision. Even then, you’re beautiful; Wrecked against his desk and whining out mumbles of how good it feels.

His hand slowly trails up your body to find your throat, pulling you just a tad closer to he’s sure you’ll hear his next words. “You’re mine now,” he growls, leaning in closer to you and letting his eyes narrow as if it’s almost a threat. No, not a threat; A promise that he won’t ever let you down if you choose to stay. “Do you understand?”

You opt to nod in compliance. You can’t trust your words; You know your throat will break if you try to speak.

“All mine,” Chris sighs out the words as his head tips back, baring his throat to you and allowing you to lean forward and kiss at the skin that begs to be marked.

Before you even have a moment to think about sucking into his skin, his hand pushes further down your thigh and his thumb finds you clit - rubbing tight, harsh circles to coax you closer to the edge.

“Come for me, baby.” He demands it of you, his voice holding nothing but greed and possession.

The instant your walls tighten down around his cock, his cum floods against your walls and your cries of delight only push him further. He sinks into you as deep as he can, his hips flush to your own and he shoves himself balls deep into your pussy. His teeth sink into his lip to choke down his own sounds of pleasure with the want to hear you better.

The only sound that breaks the silence is your breathing, heavy and ragged as it mixes with his own pants of pleasure. He’s satisfied and he’s sure you’ll be happy as well.

Chris leans in, his lips slowly brushing the tender skin of your temple as he hums.

“You start on Monday.”

-

[Location : Main Office : 9:32 AM]

"Son of a bitch-!" Maxine stumbles towards the office as she pulls her blazer on, sliding one arm into the sleeve and then the other as she tosses her clipboard between her hands. Her free hand falls to the doorknob of the office and pushes it open, her body freezing in the doorway.

The room reeks of intimacy.

Her hand slowly falls from the doorknob as Chris looks up from his desk, the pen stopping against the paper he signed. He quirks a brow, curious in the woman's frantic behavior. "Can I help you?"

".. You have a meeting this morning; A proposal request, a... girl who wanted to apply for a job," She starts, glancing around the room; The stack of papers are in a different spot, the photo of Chris and Minho is tipped over as if it had been knocked into - or knocked off it's stand by the ridiculously hard rocking of his desk. "But I'm beginning to think you had a meeting this morning and I just... missed it."

"You missed quite a bit." He admits with a chuckle, setting his pen down and folding his hands together under his chin. His elbows push into his desk as he smirks. "Don't fret over it; The interview went wonderfully and she'll be starting on Monday. So you'd best not be late any time next week."

The woman nods, lips popping apart. Okay - A new hire. She could handle that. "Yes, sir." She takes a step back, ready to leave the man to his doings and not wanting to bother him any longer; He was a busy man, after all.

"Oh - and Maxine?"

Chris' quip catches her off guard and she pauses, looking back just before she closes the door behind her. "Yes?"

"Take good care of her." His eyes linger, softer than she'd seen them before - if she were honest. "I'd like for her to stay a while."

The woman smiles, glancing down before nodding and peeking back up at her boss. She hums, "Yes, sir."

-

Taglist:

@an0ther-us3r @linofthelace @breakmeoff @seungpuppymongmong

@d4ily-s-nsh1ne @slut4junho @charredchae

@wickedbutlovely @skzophreniic

[hellothisisangle]

Relationship Analysis

Prefacing this by admitting I had to rewrite a good chunk of River. He’s notoriously got few quests leading up to the romance side of things. The actual relationship jump is marked with an arrow a bit below, here’s some backstory

↓

V would never willingly work with a cop. They’ve been disillusioned enough by the system and the people who enforce it to build their life on chaos and middle fingers. But the job that lead to River was backed by the kind of money that made V bite their tongue, swallow the “ACAB”, and resist the urge to spit on the guy’s polished boots. Doesn’t mean there wasn’t more than a few off-color statements thrown out here and there though. River barely rolled his eyes, didn’t instigate. He was a model lawman, like something out of a movie. Actually, too much like a movie. Because when the preliminary investigation of the Peralez’s case [I FOUGHT THE LAW] came to a close and River’s superiors told him to stop pursuing, V could tell this was another one of those NCPD cover-up situations.

“Exactly what I expect from donut munchers. Good thing my client’s an independent contractor,” V snidely remarked.

“I’ll take this to the top if I have to,” River said with conviction.

So, so virtuous. Then, another distraught call came from the Peralezes [DREAM ON]. They’d had a suspicious break in, needed a professional to look into it. V shows up, and who’s already on-site, all badge-and-honor attitude? River fucking Ward. Again. Definitely not because the NCPD told him to, so what- Out of the goodness of his heart?

“You make it sound like it’s something to be ashamed of,” River sighed.

(…) “Not something you come across in this city,” V pointed out. “And especially not in cops.”

Somehow, V is able to get more information, why River is really doing this. He’s not a stranger to home invasions, lived it first hand, lost both his parents. He doesn’t want to see another family torn apart. River is starting to seem more like a real person than a one-dimensional neon sign that reads, ‘I believe in the law’. If there’s anyone who could get V to even remotely reconsider the idea that not every badge is a pig, it just might be River.

They managed to track down the Peralez’s boogeymen together, although- the case involved more victims than just the affluent family who hired them, and somehow seemed to be related to a power with ties to the NCPD. River immediately wants to go whistleblower. He’s talking protective custody, full exposure. V raises an eyebrow. It isn’t only the Peralezes being monitored- strings all across Night City are being pulled. And if River wants to trigger a massacre just to save the few people in front of them, that blood’s on him. On the other hand, if the Peralezes fork over however much they think their lives are worth, V isn’t complaining- V could give a shit about politicians. River, ever the hero, insists he’ll take the information back to the station- see if he can’t orchestrate protection for everyone. Noble, but stupid, V thinks.

Afterwards, V gets a call from a mysterious number- a scrambled voice telling them to detour from this trail they’re following. V attempts to check in with the Peralezes- the line has gone cold. V then contacts River, who sounds a little different over the holo, kind of forced. He requests to meet in person. Chubby Buffalo’s BBQ in The Glen. V already got their pay, they wanted to wipe their hands of this whole thing, but curiosity got the better of them. And what does River have to say? He got canned. Tossed out by a system he believed in. V? They laugh. Double over. Find it darkly poetic. The guy who walked the line, booted the second it became inconvenient.

River doesn’t think it’s so funny. His parents’ murderer that was never brought to justice, the Peralezes, countless other investigations swept under the rug…

“So what’re you gonna do about it?” V asks.

“Become a PI,” River replies.

Fitting. Suits him better. He already owns the long leather trench. Some time later, V and River accomplish [THE HUNT] together. River is offered a position back on the force. To V’s surprise they turn it down.

↓

V is convinced to work a few private cases with River, split the profits, and the more they’re side by side, the more they notice the little details. A familiar broad frame. A voice too caring. A laugh a bit too loud. Awkward. Earnest. The kind of man who tries to look away when V leans close, but can’t help but blush and stiffen. V sees echos they’re not sure what to make of. They push River- how about bending a rule here and there? You ever use handcuffs for something off the books? And River gives. Slowly but surely. He thinks dipping his toe in the darkness to be with V isn’t so terrible. However, V isn’t a toe-dip. They’re a deep-dive into the black. River starts falling, answering texts too quickly, giving in too fast, can’t say “no” to V.

V teases him that his code of ethics had a weak spine. Internally, it catches them off guard. Maybe this is how people are supposed to act when they really care about another person, without expecting something in return and all that. It’s not like V would know. And the look River gives when V says something absolutely filthy with a straight face is kind of irresistible.

V thought they’d enjoy ruining him, pushing him past his limits just to say, “I told you so.” All the while, River’s still polite, still checks, asks, holds back before doing anything impulsive. Makes V want to unravel him completely, to see a raw side. But when it started happening for real, it didn’t feel as good as they imagined. Turns out River likes a grip on his wrists and V isn’t sure they’re in any position to be the one in control. The one to say “love me” when they could be gone tomorrow. Under normal circumstances, V wouldn’t mind stringing someone along. With River, he’s just too genuine. Maybe they like him because he somehow still sees something good in V, or maybe it’s because V’s scared no one else will as much as River. Not even themselves.

[01zfan]

through the phone

lawyer!eunseok x sahm!reader | 5.5k words

contains: phone sex, neglecting workaholic husband and lonely housewife

Eunseok took his glasses off in an attempt to clear his mind. Sometimes the absence of clear vision saved him from becoming overstimulated to the point of no return. The numbers for the collection billing turning to a black blur did help ease the incoming stress migraine that was forming on the sides of his head. He squeezed his eyes shut for good measure and put his elbows on the table so he could try and massage out the tension with his fingers.

The end of the quarter always was the worst time. No matter how much extra work Eunseok did to try and alleviate the stress of deadlines there was always so much work to be done. 

Sometimes it felt like the people he oversaw were working against him. He knew that he couldn’t blame the new paralegals too much, but some of their support seemed to be a hinderance. Sohee wrote chicken scratch in the margins of notes, Anton misspelled names on client documents, and the two had terrible organization skills. Eunseok spent a majority of the first night rereading the top of documents over and over again, sorting and stapling things that were supposed to be sorted and stapled a long time ago.

His surprise audit and early collection of everyone’s notes was meant to put fear in their hearts. They were supposed to feel guilty for forcing their hardworking boss to do extra work. The point that might’ve been missed isn't worth the headache Eunseok is putting himself through. He just can’t bring himself to threaten with unemployment—it’s a fatal flaw of his easygoing character—so he resorts to more troublesome methods for himself instead. He just prays that Sohee and Anton don’t forget the fear they felt getting their reports taken after Eunseok warned them about the deadline weeks in advance.

Even if this proved a point, Eunseok still lost. He was here in the office by himself past business hours, papers stacked on his desk and numbers on his computer being ran over again and again.

Eunseok hated not being home. He made the impossible rule to keep his work and home life separate, even when he became the manager of the firm and he took on a larger workload than he expected. At most he thought being home being home before midnight was wishful thinking, not actually impossible. But even when he wasn't at work he thought about work, anytime he saw numbers he envisioned a countdown, anytime he saw landscapes he thought of mountains of papers and numbers, and anytime he saw his kids he thought about the younger paralegals he was essentially babysitting everyday.

The end of the quarter brought out the worst in him. The work he was grateful for turned into something he hated. He hated being the leader of a team where everyone looked up to him and he was responsible for the oversight of operations and recruiting new attorneys for the next quarter. He hated that he had all this work to do by the end of the week if he wanted to keep his job up and running.

Eunseok let his forehead fall to the dark mahogany edge of his desk and let out a deep sigh. His large rolling chair leaned forward with him, and Eunseok took a moment to try and recenter himself. The job is awful, but it pays well. He’s doing good work, he's helping people who need help, and he’s due for that bonus and a vacation to Tulum. He has you and a family photo perched on his desk, right by his monitor when he needs an extra reminder of who he’s doing all this for. Eunseok lifts his head to see you smiling back at him and sighs again. 

What a terrible fate that to take care of his loved ones he has to be so far away. Locked in his office towards the top of the building like the Rapunzel of Wallstreet. You’re probably Sleeping Beauty, at home by yourself, waiting for your prince to come. He misses his kids, his daughter who was going through a Disney phase and his son who was going through a phase that made him hate all of those movies.

Eunseok looks at the analog clock hanging on the wall. The green digital time tells him his kids are fast asleep, another night he’s missed of reading bedtime stories and kissing his babies on the forehead. He figuratively smacks his palm against his face when he realizes he was supposed to call you a long time ago. Another night of you attempting to wait up for him despite neither of you knowing when he’s coming home.

All of this is ironic, when Eunseok first started this job as a paralegal he was always able to make it home in time for dinner. He always left his cubicle exactly at five, turning off his desktop and grabbing his suitcase before cramming onto the 7 train until he made it to Flushing. Now he drives to work in a fancy Cadillac and being home before dawn seems like a luxury. 

He closes his eyes again trying to remember the last time he was sitting at the dinner table with you and his kids. The memory is fading of asking what they were doing in school and getting enthusiastic replies back. He was starting to forget what non-reheated food tasted like and what age his kids were. Sometimes Eunseok was scared that they were forgetting who he was, and that he would just become a man who slept under the same roof as them. He should really find a work-life balance before he becomes the person he swore he never be.

When this quarter comes to a close he’ll really do it. He’ll start forcing the paralegals to do their own work, maybe even the lawyers too. He’ll have a strict work schedule, office hours he abides by with no exceptions. He will do it all once that bonus hits and he hands in these finished reports.

But right now, as New York creeps further into the night he is stuck here. He has one more report to go over and a few logs to verify, but then he’s home before he faces another marathon tomorrow. He just needs something to get him through this last hour, and running his fingers over your framed photo like you've died isn’t enough. 

Eunseok puts his glasses back on but still ignores the numbers on the computer to reach for the corded office phone instead. The millions of buttons on the office phone is confusing and he feels like a caveman when he tries to use it. Eunseok always entertained the idea of hiring a personal assistant, but he actually had to hire a receptionist when he unboxed your gift for his office. You picked the phone out, the brown finish to match the desk you also picked out and the red details of the phone matches his lounge chair that you also picked out. He always thought the red was a little too bold, but you always complimented the way Eunseok looked in red. So he dealt with the eyesore and offset the boldness with black furniture. The buttons on the office phone are bothersome, but he knows exactly what to press to reach the house.

When the phone rings Eunseok leans back in his chair. He knows the ringing on the bedside table will wake you up, but still he’s nervous. What if you’re mad at him for waking you up at such a terrible time, what if you’re mad he’s missed another day with his family? Eunseok chews on his nails as he swivels his chair side to side. He takes his hand out of his mouth to flick at the large monstera plant standing tall and healthy next to his desk. He thumbs the large leaf between his fingers, letting his glasses slide down his nose. 

Before Eunseok loses hope the call connects. It’s a loud and short click, there’s silence and he’s frozen in his chair waiting for what he’s going to hear on the other end of the line.

“Eunseok?” Your voice is husky from being pulled out of your sleep. He imagines your eyes are still closed and the phone is just resting on the side of your face as you try to wake yourself up. Eunseok leans further into his seat. “Is everything okay?” You ask.

He’s spending another late night in the office instead of sleeping in bed with you. His only companions right now are the green plants you bought for him and the smiling photos of you on his desk. He was running so low on steam that he had to just hear your voice for a little motivation to continue working himself like a dog. 

“I’m okay.” He lies. “I just wanted to hear your voice.” 

Your tired hum is barely picked up. Eunseok starts picking at the corner of his black mousepad trying to ignore that feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Well.” Your voice is husky, crackling right into his ear. He can’t stop the shiver up his spine. His hand that doesn’t hold the phone clasps in on itself, until his fingers graze his sweaty palm. “Here’s my voice.” You say.

“What about the kids?” He asks.

“Eunseok.” He can hear you turning in the bed to check the time next to you. His name floats between your two landlines for a moment, and he can hear you sigh. “You know they went to bed hours ago.” You say.

“I know." He tugs at the extension cord of the phone, wrapping the coil around his fingers. He hears the frustrated edge to your voice and how tired you are. He prays you take pity on him and forgive him for calling you this late at night. He hopes you forgive him for using you as a distraction and wasting your night. "Did anything interesting happen to them at school today?” He asks.

Eunseok hears you sigh on the other end of the line. He can hear your hand rubbing over your face and he feels that tension headache forming at his forehead again.

“You should really find the time to ask them yourself, Eunseok.” He draws in a breath and he can hear you moving. “They’re good at adjusting, they’re alot like you. But they feel your absence, you know?” You continue.

He can barely stand to hear that. He doesn’t remember the last time he saw his kids when they weren’t already asleep or being herded out the door to be rushed to school. He has to shake his head when he remembers his own childhood and he has to hold the phone a little tighter to forget it completely.

The fact that you hesitated tells him you’ve thought about this for awhile. He wonders when exactly you noticed your children noticing his empty space at the dinner table. He knows you’ve vouched for him in the past. His son was alot like him but his daughter was like you. She didn’t develop the ability to keep a secret yet, so when Eunseok apologized for falling asleep in the middle of telling her a story she was unfazed. His daughter read the book herself, thumbing to the next page while saying Mommy told us you work alot and we shouldn’t wake you up even if you fall asleep in the middle of your sentence. He didn’t know her vocabulary had gotten so developed, but she was just going through the book to look at the pictures.

Eunseok’s knew you kept your grievances to yourself to not upset the children. If they asked, you told them their father was working hard and hopes that they had a good day at school. You kissed your children an extra time on the forehead for him and only brought up Eunseok’s abscence in the family when he brought it up first. Your empathy hurts Eunseok, because you force him to become a man that has to talk about how he’s feeling.

You never withheld information about your kids, you never rubbed it in that you got to spend more time with them. He doesn’t know how you have so much patience for him, even when he’s so tired coming home he can barely reach out his arm to hold you. You always woke up and buried your head in his chest, bringing him closer and sighing so contently like he never left. The fact that he’s constantly so locked into his work he can barely muster the energy to call pains him.

“I know, I really do.” Eunseok speaks truthfully into the line. He sighs himself, leaning deeper into his chair.

His voice must’ve been desperate enough because he hears you hum again as your sleepy mind tries to recollect how their days went. He can imagine the gears turning in your mind, and he feels another pull at his chest.

“Well your son has that soccer game this weekend. Your daughter’s school play is next week. They’ve been preparing for that like crazy, it’s all either of them talk about.” You answer.

Eunseok remembers seeing you put together your daughters costume for the play, and picking his son up from practice when you had to go to a doctor’s appointment. 

He gets all the quick updates throughout your day, ranging from taking the kids to practice to cleaning the house to making dinner to doing practically everything else. He has missed every single practice and rehearsal for his kids, forcing you to take on the role of being the active parent in addition to you living your life. He wouldn’t be able to do what he does here if you weren’t working tirelessly from sunrise to sunset. Times like this is when that all really hits him. Eunseok is taken aback by the fact that you were probably on your feet all day and still have the energy to humor him this late at night. He also realizes that you two have fallen into the roles you told yourselves you'd never fall in to. You swore to be a modern couple, where the husband becomes a stay at home Dad and the wife becomes the CEO.

“Thank you for all that you do.” Eunseok says after a beat of silence.

“I like doing it. Thank you for all you do.” Eunseok can hear you trying to sound clear on the other end of the line. He hears you making an attempt to wake yourself up to be the energizer he needs while you imagine a life where your husband comes home in the evening. “How’s everything going?” You ask.

Eunseok has told you the gist of what’s going on at his job. In the moments when you are both awake when you get ready to start your day and Eunseok reluctantly gets ready for his, you two can occasionally have a conversation. Sometimes it feels like two old friends catching up over a cup of coffee, or estranged lovers when you lean in close to fix his tie. 

Over time you’ve picked up how stressful this time of year is for him, and how he has to manage so many people. He tries his best to hide the immense pressure he’s under, but over the years and being able to pick up on his body language he knows you can tell. You let him know you’re there for support in your own little ways. Rubbing out his tense shoulders or fixing his posture when he’s slouched eating reheated dinner. Slipping in tiny notes into his lunchbox. Nursing his dying office plants back to life. Answering phone calls in the middle of the night. You do things for Eunseok that lets him know he’s not alone and that you see the work he does for you and your family. Just thinking about it is enough to get him to blast through the rest of these reports, but it also makes him miss you so much it feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest and swim across the Hudson to find you.

“It’s alot, but I’m almost done.” He answers.

Silence on the other end of the line. Eunseok pushed his glasses back up his nose and tries to listen for snoring.

“They have you working hard for that corner office.” You say.

Eunseok laughs to himself and realizes he hasn’t done that in God knows how long. Everything has been too serious to him as of late, he’s been so worried and stressed that he’s kept nothing but a straight face. He thinks by the end of this he will have stress lines embedded into his skin. 

“I have to atleast put three hours in before they let me roll up the blinds.” He adds.

Now it’s your turn to laugh on the other end of the line. Eunseok can’t stop himself from smiling at your quiet laughter, even when you sigh wistfully directly into his ear.

“That view is to die for, though. You can basically see the whole city from up there.” You say.

Eunseok turns in his chair, making the cord from the office phone strain to follow him. You were right, Eunseok could see the whole city from up here. Even at night the lit up buildings were beautiful, and in the daytime it was so breathtaking it even made his two rowdy kids stop mid cartwheel to press their grubby hands to the glass. 

“I still remember when you visited me here.”

Eunseok remembers the feeling of pride swelling in his chest at the sight of his family loving the office he got in his promotion. He smiled at your wide eyes as you asked him if this was really his office now. Ever since then he’s worked extra hard to keep it.

Another beat of silence. Eunseok thinks you’ve really fallen asleep this time.

“Which time?” You ask. “Because I’ve been there a couple times.”

The change in your voice is too obvious, the shuffling on the other end of the line makes Eunseok’s heart drop. He feels anticipation already swelling in his chest.

There was that time you brought the family to see the office for the first after you picked the kids up from school, there was that time you came by for an office party. You drop by atleast once a week to have lunch with Eunseok on his break, or when you forced him to leave to stop him from working too hard. 

But there was also that one time you showed up after everyone had left only wearing that long fur coat Eunseok bought you and red stockings. He was sitting in the same chair he was now when you revealed your big surprise to him, you even took the time to tie a bow around your waist. Eunseok has never forgotten about his work as fast as he did then, he’s never done anything as risky as pushing your naked body against the big glass windows of his corner office. You two did less than savory things for the better half of an hour, before Eunseok pulled you into the back of a taxi to finish the job at home. Just thinking about it made him pull at his tie to loosen it around his neck.

“Which time were you talking about, Seok?” You repeat.

You haven’t said his nickname with that type of infliction in your voice in ages. Eunseok feels that churn in his stomach at the thought of you in front of him. 

“I was thinking about the first time—”

“The first time I sucked your dick underneath your desk?” You interrupt. 

Eunseok starts using his other hand to grip the edges of his office chair. When he looked down at the space that you fit into perfectly he gets lightheaded. The delirium from caffeine and lack of sleep makes Eunseok see you vividly, he can feel the way your hands pressed into his thighs as you did your best to take all of him.

“Or the first time you bent me over it?” You continue.

He can’t stop his dick from pressing against the fabric of his slacks. When he adjusts himself in his office chair he rubs against his clothes in a way that makes him sigh directly into the phone as he sinks lower into the cushion.

“I still remember that time you were on the phone with those clients that were really rude to you—“

“The delivery company from Staten Island?” Eunseok interjects because he’s too excited remembering that time with you. He feels pride swell in your chest when you make a sound of recollection on your end of the line.

“I remember they called you on the phone and I was sitting in your lap. Your voice started to get all shaky when I started grinding on you—“

“I remember.” Eunseok interrupts you again because he can barely stand hearing you repeat it back to him. He still has scratch marks on the lip of his desk where you were holding onto it for stability. He still has the underwear you were wearing that day locked in the bottom drawer of his desk.

“You hung up on them so fast when they started asking you why you were breathing all heavy.” You finish.

Eunseok hums and readjusts in his seat. His sensitive dick rubs against his slacks and he lets out a shaky breath. He slowly lets himself grind against his pants, the slightest bit of friction makes him grip the armrest of his chair.

“Are you alone?” You ask.

Eunseok chuckles dryly at your terribly timed question. You should’ve asked it before you tortured him with memories of you two being together. He lets go of the side of his chair and presses the base of his palm into his straining dick. The force is almost too much, and the fact that he hasn’t touched himself in forever makes everything more intense. 

“I’m alone.” Eunseok quickly reaches for the string hat brings the shutters down his windows. “Are you?” He asks.

“Yes I’m alone Seok. I was waiting for you.” You say.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He immediately gives into your taunts, remorse and desperation makes him almost whine for your forgiveness. “I’m here now, though.” He says.

You hum and Eunseok can hear you place the phone on your chest. The speaker of the phone presses to his ear with your heartbeats and he can hear the sound of sheets moving. 

He already knows you’re undressing yourself, starting with your bottoms. Eunseok can hear the muffled sound of effort as the sheets rustle some more. He presses the heel of his hand deeper into his crotch, until he can’t fight the urge to grind his hips against his palm.

“What are you wearing?” You ask him quietly.

He continues slowly grinding as he looks down to his feet. His legs are already spread across his carpet, out in front of him for maximum comfort.

“I’m wearing those black suede dress shoes you bought me last year for Christmas.” He says. He clicks the tips of his shoes together three times, maybe you’ll appear in front of him on his desk the same way you’re on the bed.

“They’re comfy right?” You ask desperately.

Hearing the tilt in your voice makes Eunseok sink deeper into his office chair. He moves only his hand so he can fully focus on your question.

“I can be in them all day no problem.” Your shaky breath comes through the phone and Eunseok smiles. He can see the look of relief you get when he praises you. He imagines you’re still trying to take it slow, only applying light pressure to your clit to match his excitement. “Everyone compliments them all the time. I tell everyone my wife got them for me.” He adds.

“I love when you call me that.” You whimper on the other end of the line. “What else? You’re wearing that gray suit I laid out for you this morning right?” 

“Yeah baby. But I got a little cold so I put on my black sweater.” He says.

“Take it off for me. Please.” You beg.

It’s been too long. He’s had trouble mustering up the energy to do anything beyond a few pecks on the cheek. At his worst there were times he was so tired he couldn’t get it up, just apologizing profusely while scissoring his fingers into your cunt. There were also times you had to do all the work in bed too, using his body merely as a vessel to get all of your frustrations out.

The begging tone in your voice is different from the times you were demanding him to give you one more, and that you weren’t done with him yet. You already sound like you’re close. But he only blames himself for not touching you in so long. He was unfortunately too busy thinking about how to reprimand his paralegals without being too mean to do things to you. Your tolerance for teasing in bed and your endurance had slimmed down, making you already teeter on the edge before Eunseok could even start with the dirty talk.

But he has to admit he’s proud you haven’t slipped your fingers inside of yourself. The last person on Earth that listens to him; you wait because he hasn’t told you to do it yet.

He feels that pride swell in his chest and it mixes with the intense longing. He listens to your plea, purposefully making extra noise with his belt so you might be able to hear it. Eunseok scoots his office chair across the dark carpet until his legs are under the desk. He lets his dress pants fall to his ankles, and he shivers at the cold air of his office. There’s already a splotch from precum seeping through his briefs, and Eunseok moans when he sees himself twitch. You moan back, helpless and weak as you try to think of what to say next.

“Did you take it off?” You ask.

“Just down to my ankles.” Eunseok folds his waistband just enough for his dick to spring free. It slaps against his stomach. He wishes you could see how pink and angry his tip is and how his dick pulses at the mere thought of you. “Can’t wait.” 

“Me neither.” You huff.

Eunseok wraps his hand around his tip, letting the sticky precum coat his palm. When he has enough he slowly thrusts up into his hand, gripping the phone with all of his might.

“You’re already playing with yourself, right?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You whine.

“What are you doing?” 

When you answer with a whine again Eunseok has to add a little more bass to his voice. He needs you to stay with him even if he’s miles away. Him rutting into his hands in his office when he should be doing work is barbaric. This goes against everything Eunseok practices, it’s a risk and if he thinks about what he’s doing too much he’ll never finish. He needs the visual of what you’re doing on the other end of the line. You laying on top of the covers with your eyes closed trying to keep your moans quiet is beautiful. The way your body is screaming for more is poetic, like an innate part of you needs him to get off. 

“Tell me everything.” He orders lightly.

“I’m on top of the bed because it was getting too hot underneath the covers.” You say.

Eunseok hums in acknowledgment and tightens his hand around the base of his dick. He’s slow and squeezes himself out, trying to match the steady tone you attempt to have in your voice.

“I only took my bottoms off because I’m too impatient.” You continue.

Eunseok disapprovingly clicks his tongue at you as if he’s any better. He’s the one that’s fucking his hand with his pants around his ankles.

“And I’m only touching my clit with two fingers, the way you always do it.” 

Your words are high-pitched now. Eunseok can hear you trying so hard to hold on.

“What’s your other hand doing baby?” Eunseok asked.

“Holding the phone.” You sighed.

Eunseok finally let his hand speed up. He had the perfect visual of you now, and he could fill in the gaps of the details you missed. He’s sure you’re squirming on top of the mattress and arching your back when something felt particularly good. Eunseok is locked onto his dick, he watches a glob of spit fall on his shaft before his hand uses it as extra lubrication. 

He tries his best to mimic the way you’d pulse and close in around his dick. His hand isn’t warm enough and he can feel spaces in his fingers. Nothing can come close to emulating you or what’s between your legs. It’s futile, it almost makes Eunseok cry into the phone about how much he needs to fuck you in his office again. He tries to find a solution elsewhere, if he can’t see you or feel it maybe he can hear it. 

“Put her on the phone.” Eunseok tugs at himself again and his back arches from the chair. “I wanna hear her.” He huffs.

Eunseok can hear your quick okay then the sound of the phone pulling away from your breathy moans. He presses the phone as deep as he can to his ear, as he imagines your current position. Legs bent with one hand on your clit while the other brings the phone between your legs. Eunseok holds his breath at how shameless and compromised you probably look just to follow his orders.

Then it breaks through. The lewd wet sound of your fingers slinking down to tease your entrance. His mouth waters at the thought of you coating your fingers, purposefully moving a little faster and rougher so the sound is more prominent. You just do so much just for his benefit, and all he has to do is work for you. You are too giving to Eunseok’s take, it makes him feel like a terrible husband but also lights a fire so deep in his stomach that his hand picks up the speed.

“Did you hear it?” You sound like you’ve run a mile when you pant into the phone. 

Eunseok nods, as if you’re right in front of him before he releases his bottom lip from his teeth.

“I heard it.” Eunseok feels his throat go dry and he’s swear he can taste you. “You’re so wet.” He whispers.

“I am.” Your voice trembles on the other side of the line, the same way you always did when he would sink into you. “My fingers are just sliding in and out.”

The visual description and astonishment in your voice makes Eunseok rut into his hand. He does it so abruptly the things shake on his desk and he almost pitches forward to really focus on fucking his hand. He fights everything in him to remain sitting upright, cursing directly into the phone through clenched teeth.

”Fuck.” 

“Can I hear you, too?” Your question is pushed out when you slide your fingers back in.

Lust makes your question sound like an order, and Eunseok is humming yes baby into the receiver when the pulls his phone from his face.

Eunseok woke his computer screen up by his sudden movements. He averts his eyes from the numbers to look down underneath his desk. The sight is dirty. If he told himself as an intern he’d be in a fancy corner office jerking his dick off extra loud so his wife could hear it through the phone he would’ve had a heart attack from the shock. Quiet and professional Eunseok would never do such a thing. But now he moves his hand a little faster for your benefit, biting his lip so hard he thinks he might draw blood.

He keeps going, getting lost in the debauched circumstances of it all. He feels like a caveman chasing after something so primal while pretending like you’re right there. If he could have his way he’d look up from his dick and see you laid out on his desk the same way you were on the bed, hand between your legs while you looked directly at him.

Eunseok brought the phone back up to his ear, swallowing deep because it felt like his tie was choking him.

“Could you hear it, baby?” He asked.

“I heard it.” Eunseok can hear you squirming on top of the sheets. You always needed his hand planted on your waist to stop you from moving so much. “She misses you.” You finally stutter over the line.

When Eunseok puts his phone between his shoulder and chin he can smell you. Your hand lotion still lingers on his clothes from when you smoothed his dress shirt this morning. When he closes his eyes he can see you teetering around his office, holding up the dying monstera leaves and frowning at their droop.

“I miss you.” Eunseok says it clearly, fucking into his hand faster than before. 

“I miss you too.” He knows you’re fingers have sped up by the way your voice has gotten pathetic and quiet. “I haven’t seen you in so long.” You say.

Even though you technically saw him this morning, he understands completely what you mean. You two haven’t seen eachother in weeks. Eunseok hasn’t had enough time to do something like kissing your shoulder or pulling you close throughout the day. You’re too sweet to complain about it. Even now when you should be mad you only sound weak and apologetic, like you’re the neglecting workaholic husband and he’s the lonely housewife.

“I know baby, I’ll make it up to you.” He has to grip the middle of the phone tight to keep his voice even. ”You’re close though, right?” Eunseok asks.

His steady tone only makes you fall deeper. One of your legs slides out from underneath you, your other  digs into the mattress. You went back to rubbing your clit, the absence of Eunseok’s fingers inside of you makes it impossible to cum from just penetration. Rubbing tight circles on your swollen bud gets the job done, because within seconds you’re fighting your thighs from closing tight around your fidgeting hand.

“Keep your legs spread.” Eunseok grunts into the phone. “Don’t stop either.” 

It’s like he’s here in the room with you, right beside you on the bed. Even though you say nothing you’re sure he can hear and see it all, that he’s already painted himself an accurate picture of yourself.

“Are you close?” You ask.

Eunseok looks down again. He’s almost in pain from the impeding orgasm. He can feel his spit-slicked veins bump against his hand, and his sensitive tip still leaks precum. He can’t stop himself from twitching in his hand, and he can feel the coil in his stomach tightening. 

“So close.” Eunseok seethes behind his teeth. “I’m so close.” He continues.

He has to hold his phone up with his shoulder to free his other hand. He quickly reaches across his desk, making sure to not hit anything in the process of grabbing tissues. He pulls them out in a frenzy, readjusting the phone to keep it in place. He needs to hear your muffled sounds clearly as he continues tugging on himself. 

He’s quick with preparing the tissues and faster with his other hand. He wonders if the lewd sound filters through the phone the same way it does in his spacious office. Part of him wants to pry, to ask in a low voice if you know how bad he wishes his hand was yours. He hopes you know he’s imagining you in the empty space underneath his desk. Eunseok takes mercy because he assumes you’re too busy to notice, because you’re practically crying while you beg Eunseok to cum first.

He’s methodical with it. His neck is bent at an odd angle to keep the phone up but he ignores the pain as he balls up the tissues preemptively. He leans back in his cozy office chair, closing his eyes to get lost in your voice.

“I already came.” You moan.

“Good.” Eunseok coos at you before you can apologize for indulging in something you so clearly needed. He can’t stand the idea of you apologizing almost as much as he can’t stand that he wasn’t the one who did it for you.

He stills his hand and begins thrusting his hips upwards through his fist. He tightens it even more until there’s a struggle, until he has to grunt from the effort to get his tip to poke out from the top. He imagines your tongue laving his angry tip and your hands rubbing over his flexed stomach. “Just keep talking to me. I’m almost there.” He says.

“Eunseokie.” Eunseok hums loudly to your whimper, and he squeezes his eyes tight. He is losing his resolve with each passing second. He is panting into the phone by the time you speak again. “Is the view nice?” You ask.

He screws his eyes shut tighter. His loudest moan rips through his office as he leans back into his seat.

“It’s beautiful baby.” Eunseok says quietly.

“I wanna see it again soon.” You say. “There’s so many things we haven’t done in there yet.”

Eunseok doesn’t get the chance to tell you that he’ll get an apartment closer to the office because he thrusts into his hand one final time. His full body relaxes into his office chair and he works his hand one more time before he feels it. Relief spreading across his body and warm cum spurting from his tip. It’s a dribble at first, sliding down Eunseok’s fist and getting between his fingers. Then it’s a mess, getting on his thighs and his desk. He’s too strung out to use the tissues clutched in his hand, he has no choice but to ride it out completely. Your voice on the other end of the line doesn’t help. You’re a cooing mess, your bothered voice talks him through the orgasm that wracks through his body.

“I can hear you.” You tell him.

“I swear I can feel you.” He whimpers.

“I’m there. And you’ll be home soon, too.” You assure.

Another wave of pleasure comes through him. Eunseok’s toes crack in his dress shoes and his glasses are all the way down to the tip of his nose when he opens his eyes again. He has partial vision, everything is blurred and wobbling when his thighs shake.

“Shit.” He feels the droplets of cum on his thigh cool and he sees the mess he was trying to prevent. He lets his dick go and it helplessly flops to his thigh. Still everything about him is sensitive, he shivers when he gently presses the crumbled tissues to his sensitive inner thigh. “Fuck.” He curses.

“Did you make a mess?” You ask on the other end of the line.

Eunseok looks at his wet hand. He uses the tissues to dab off the wet trail marks and finishes cleaning up by wiping his palm across his black sweater. He grimaces at the thought of defiling his cashmere, but he needs a free hand to hold the phone to his other ear.

“A little bit.” His voice is weak and hoarse as he talks. 

You hum. He knows you’re sleepy again, and for a moment he selfishly wants to rile you up again just so you can offer to take a cab to come clean him up. But Eunseok has kept you from your sleep long enough, and he also feels exhausted. He’s been at this desk looking at numbers all day and just came so hard it made his whole body shake. He thinks he could sleep for a week straight if given the chance.

“Can the rest of your work wait until tomorrow?” You yawn.

Eunseok pulls the bottom of the phone away from his mouth to yawn. His balled fist in front of his mouth forces him to smell himself and he grimaces again. He can tell that he won’t be able to make sense of these numbers and reports for the rest of the night. He reaches underneath his desk to pull his slacks back up his legs.

“It can.” He answers.

“Okay. I’ll wait up for you.” You say.

He can hear the smile in your voice. Eunseok tells you he loves you a million times before he hangs up the phone.

[n0ahsebastians]

look after you - n.s.

18+!!! a small scene of smut but if you're not comfortable with that please don't read it!! otherwise this is cutesy and fun hehe please enjoy <3

inspired by those new photos of the band recording in the studio, noah in the white hoodie and black tank top has destroyed me. next question please

It’s always half and never whole, you’ve begun to feel like home But what’s mine is yours to leave or take, what’s mine is yours to make your own

She loves to watch him do what he loves. Watching him put everything he has into his projects, watching him create something for him but also for the people he cares so deeply for. She enjoys sitting in the room as his friends put together a whole song, a whole album, for the fans who’ve waited so long to hear new music. She feels lucky that she’s the first of their “fans” to hear it all. 

She doesn’t mind that he’s deeply focused on the monitors as she sits in the back of the room doing work stuff and she doesn’t mind that his undivided attention is not on her; she knows he enjoys her company. He always asks her to come and sit in the studio as he works; he likes to have her there. 

They finish a track and she doesn’t even realize it until he’s next to her on the couch, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. She giggles and leans into him as he comes to plop down next to her on the couch. 

“Two tracks done already,” he absentmindedly plays with her fingers, suddenly distracting her from her work. 

“Proud of you baby,” she kisses his chin. He has a light dusting of stubble there and it tickles her lips as she does. 

“Whatcha working on?” He rests his hand on her thigh, rubbing small circles in the fabric of her leggings. 

“Just this event for this weekend. Trying to make sure we have everything ready to go for the client.” She closes her laptop and leans her head against his shoulder.

“Proud of you too, my love.”

He wraps his arms around her, pulling her into his lap. There’s a gentle silence between them as they hold one another for a few moments. Noah’s lips are pressed to the side of her head, his breath slow and even. 

“Are the guys back there?” she asks, sitting up on his lap. Noah smirks at her. He already knows what she’s thinking.

“Your brain is huge.” He pulls her closer, his lips pressing to her jawline. She giggles again, wrapping her hands around his neck to indulge in his kisses against her skin.

“I mean, we have a few minutes, no?”

“We have several minutes,” he says, continuing his path of kisses along her neck and collarbone. Her eyes flutter close as she begins to rock her hips in his lap. He groans, gripping her hips between his fingers, guiding her in her movements. 

“You smell good,” he hums, lifting the back of her shirt and dragging his fingers along her skin. She shivers from his touch and he chuckles.

“So do you,” she whispers, removing her shirt so he can have more access to her skin. She tosses it to the floor of the studio, pressing her lips to his, feeling his tongue against her own.

“I love you,” he tells her, removing her bra and tossing it on the couch next to him. “My pretty girl.” 

His mouth moves down to her chest, taking her breast between his lips. She gasps, her fingers moving into his hair and gripping the soft strands She tugs, making him moan against her skin. He swirls his tongue against her nipple, the feeling combined with his warm breath against her flesh causing the heat between her legs to spread. 

“I…love you,” she manages to say while he continues his gentle assault of her skin. He always knows how to make her feel good, and thank god the studio window is darkened because she needs him so badly right now. 

“Give me five minutes,” he groans. She nods and that’s all he needs. 

He flips them so she’s lying on the couch. He stops for a second to listen and make sure the room next door is still silent. 

“Hear that?”

She smiles and shakes her head.

“Exactly,” He hovers over her, kissing her so deeply she feels it in her toes, “complete silence.”

“What if they come back?” 

He kisses her stomach, sliding his fingers into the waistband of her leggings. 

“They come back.”

“Noah.” She’s serious; she doesn’t want them to get caught even though it’s his house.

“Then I guess you’ll have to be quiet huh?”

Her cheeks flush at the thought of the guys in the other room as Noah makes love to her; it’s thrilling but also terrifying to be caught at such an intimate moment. 

“Let me take care of you for a few minutes.” Her leggings are tossed to the floor along with her underwear. Noah’s still fully clothed while she’s bare and it makes her skin heat. She wants him to be naked with her but she doesn’t know if that’s a part of his plan right now.

“You’re wasting time,” she teases, pressing her foot against Noah’s clothed chest. He wraps his hand around her ankle, pressing a kiss there and she giggles.

“And you’re being a brat,” he bites back, parting her legs and pressing his fingers to her center. She gasps, her eyes fluttering closed and thighs immediately squeezing around his hand. 

“No, open your legs,” he snaps, and she does it quickly. He slides his fingers against her, feeling how wet she is between her legs before tugging his sweatshirt over his head. He’s wearing a black tank top underneath and it makes her mouth water seeing his tattoos contrasting with the black fabric. He’s so beautiful to her, the most gorgeous man she’s ever laid her eyes on.

“Come here,” she whispers, wrapping her fingers around his wrist and tugging him closer to her. 

“Fucking beautiful,” he whispers as he presses his lips to hers. He tugs his tank top over his head, tossing it to the floor with the rest of their clothes. He pulls his joggers down just enough to free himself from the fabric before sliding himself along her center.

“Do you need me to…”

“No, just…please,” she whines, pressing him against her. 

“Fuck, baby.” He tangles their fingers together, pressing his lips to hers before gently pressing into her. She moans so loud, he presses his lips harder against hers to keep her quiet. 

“Ssh baby, gotta be quiet for me.”

It’s so hard to be though; they’ve been so busy and it’s been so long. She wants to make all the noise in the world for him but she knows she can’t risk the guys hearing them. When he’s moving inside of her, it’s even harder. It feels so good.

“Noah…” she breathes, wrapping her legs around his waist, pushing his joggers down with her heels. His hips are moving faster against hers, he’s close.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he whines into her mouth. 

“S’okay.” She drags her fingers down his cheek, watching the way his forehead scrunched and his cheeks are pink and his lips are swollen, and God, she loves this man so much.

“Don’t wanna….without you.” He slows his movements, feeling her skin against his. She’s warm and soft and the feeling of her wrapped around him is something he wants to hold onto for as long as he can. 

“We really screwed up that five minutes,” she laughs. He reciprocates it, resting their foreheads together. Truthfully there was no way he would’ve lasted five minutes; not when someone as beautiful and sexy as her existed. She was unreal to him.

“I need you to come for me, baby.”

“Almost.” She whines and tightens her legs around his hips, pressing her mouth to his again. Breathing him in, letting him consume her, letting him have all of her and more. There was absolutely nothing he wouldn’t do for this woman. 

Her legs shake and she squeezes around him, trying her hardest to stay quiet as she comes around him. He covers her mouth with his own again, swallowing her moans, squeezing the skin of her thigh as he follows her. He comes inside of her, gently coaxing her through her release as she runs her fingers through his hair gently scratching at his scalp. Their breaths are intertwined with one another as they come down together, a thin layer of sweat covering their bodies. He kisses her jaw, her neck, across her breasts, before settling on her lips once again. She smiles against his mouth, still feeling dizzy from her orgasm. 

“I love you,” she tells him again, her thumb rubbing across his cheek.

“I love you so much.” He lays his head on her chest for a moment before pulling out of her, grabbing his sweatshirt from the floor and throwing it over her. It sits on the top of her thighs and it makes his heart swell how big his clothes are on her. He loves it so much.

“You think they heard us?” she asks, laying her head against his chest.

“Not a chance. You did great,” he teases her. She swats at his arm, earning a playful laugh from him. 

“You’re an asshole.”

He pretends to be hurt. “That’s hurtful.”

“It’s true.”

“I just made you come, you have to be nice to me.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” she crosses her arms, feigning annoyance. He tosses her onto the couch again and she laughs loudly. 

“Do I need to make you be nice to me?”

“Hmm…maybe.”

He glares playfully at her before dramatically settling between her legs. “Don’t tempt me, I have to get back to work soon.”

“Hey, you started it.” She swats at him again and picks her underwear up from the floor, pulling them back up her legs. She does it slowly to mess with him and he groans, smacking her ass gently. She yelps and throws his tank top at him, his laugh ringing through the room. 

He stares at her from the couch as she pulls her leggings back on, not even bothering with her bra. Knowing that she was naked under his sweatshirt made the blood rush back to his groin. He tried to clear the thoughts from his head but it was hard when he could see the curve of her ass through her leggings now that she was standing. She fixes her hair and ties it up in a ponytail before putting her laptop back in her bag and turning to face him. He’s staring so lovingly at her when she turns to him.

“You’re the love of my life, you know that?”

She smiles and reaches her hands out for him.

“You make me so happy,” he continues, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting on her lower back. She smiles at him, feeling all the same things for him. She was so proud of everything he had done and everything he had overcome in the three years they had been together. He meant the world to her.

“You’re a sap,” she jokes, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him. 

“You make me a sap.”

“Well I guess that makes me the lucky one then,” she declares. He rolls his eyes in a teasing gesture and she laughs, running her fingers through his hair. 

“You make me feel like the luckiest person in the world you know.” There’s no more teasing in her voice, she wants him to know that he really does mean the world to her and he makes her the happiest human.

“I love you baby,” he whispers, kissing her deeply one last time. 

“Love you honey.”

“Are you two fucking done in there? We have work to do!” Matt yells from the other room. A giant blush takes over her features, and Noah bursts into a fit of laughter. So much for being quiet.

[blusapphire]

Forever (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: The promise of forever had wrecked you once. Bucky hadn’t thought that forever was possible for him, but he wants it…with you. If you’ll have him. 

A/N: This is my first one-shot and I had so much fun writing this! Please comment and reblog! 💕

Warnings: Mild Swearing, Angst

Banner by: @uzmacchiato

Your hands flew up to block the stack of photographs that flew towards you and almost hit your face, the prints drifting in the air before falling at your feet in the penthouse apartment. 

You sighed sharply, annoyed with the fact that you had just had pictures flung towards you, and annoyed at the woman who had tossed them at you, as she furiously marched back and forth through the apartment. 

You rested your hands on your sides just before the woman hissed at you. 

“You, are unbelievable!”

You rolled your eyes at the client, not wanting to go back and forth with the woman any further, as you had been for the past fifteen minutes. 

“M’am, the proof is in the pictures-“

“Pictures that were forged! That you forged!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, your frustration growing by the minute. The woman continued her furious marching back and forth, shaking her head. 

“You just put them together, somehow,” she desperately claimed. “Because you couldn’t find anything worth reporting and needed the money.”

The woman came to a strong halt in front of you, paying no mind to the pictures that her heels pressed into. 

“You’re wrong,” she said, a bit of uncertainty in her tone, and her eyes glossy as she glared at you. “You need to follow him again.”

Another sigh left your lips as you looked at the woman, a softer one this time around. 

This was one of the hardest parts of the job. The part you hated. Clients hire you to find out whatever’s happening with their spouse or partner, only to be unprepared for the results. Sometimes, your clients could patch things up, and work their way through whatever it was they were going through. Sometimes, it was easy for the couple to part ways- as easy as it could be anyway-with no strings attached. 

But in this case, marriage was involved. And in her particular case, you didn’t think there was any hope of her and her husband working things out. If they had eventually decided to rekindle, it would be through monitored phone calls and weekly visitations. 

But you doubted her relationship even had a chance of surviving, though. 

You were willing to bet on it. 

You felt for the woman. The same as you did for the same cases-which were many- that ended in the same way. It was hard having see the woman stand before you, tears threatening to spill over, as she wished with everything she had, that you were wrong. 

But you knew that deep down, she knew you were right. And that the pictures she had launched at you in denial, were very much real. 

You reached down to pick up one of the candid photos, regret filling you. The particular photo had been the dealbreaker, and had proven your previous theory of the client’s situation, one that you had formed weeks ago. 

“Look,” you began, trying to let the woman down as easily as you could. “I know it’s not easy to hear. And It’s likely the worst shit you’ve ever had to hear or find out.”

The client averted her gaze, refusing to meet your eyes. But you had a job to do, the job that she paid you for. 

Or at least, paid you half for. 

“It’s likely this has been going on for months. And instead of using the last ounce of dignity he had left to come clean, he decided to be a piece of shit, and paid someone to deal with his problems. The only way these rich assholes know how to get through life.”

The woman’s teary eyes fell to you after you said this, and you had taken in the luxury apartment you were standing in at the moment, as well as the woman’s expensive attire, which had probably cost more money than you had ever come across. 

“No offense...”

The woman let out a light chuckle, not one that was humorous, but one that harbored defeat. 

“None taken…” she admitted, a few of the tears that had been held in her eyes finally spilling over. She was able to keep her composure though, before ultimately sitting on the floor, her eyes skimming through the photos that were scattered around. 

“I knew it…” she whispered to herself. “Deep down, I knew it. He wants to run away with his mistress and makes arrangements to have me killed…”

You felt yourself frown a bit as you watched the woman come to terms with what she knew, and a sense of familiarity hit you. You had felt for her. 

You were her at one point. 

Thankfully though, minus the murder attempt. 

And you could guess that her marriage hadn’t always been at this point. Who would ever get married if it had started this way? 

And with that in mind, you offered what you could. 

“Look, I’m sorry. But,” you reluctantly started. “I would get on the phone with the police, right now, if I were you and…” you paused, a sigh leaving you. “It’s hard. It will be, but it gets better. Eventually…”

You could visibly see your words resonated with her, and she wiped the tears that covered her cheeks, and quickly stood. 

“I won’t keep you any longer. Here,” she walked over the large coffee table where her bag purse sat, pulling out a pen and a checkbook. She scribbled on a page, before ripping it off and politely handing it to you. 

“Thank you,” she said, wiping away the rest of the tears. “And I’m sorry about the pictures.”

You nodded, assuring her that it was okay, surprised that it was the only way she had lashed out. 

You could call the case successful, as you left the woman’s apartment. The client had been searching for answers, and you delivered. You could call it successful, but it didn’t make it any less disheartening. No matter how much you had gotten paid. 

And it didn’t make each case that was similar to this one sting any less for you. 

The buzz of your phone has stolen your attention for a moment, and you stopped with a smile before pulling it out of your back pocket to read what you knew was a text from the person who always made your face light up. 

Bucky:

Hey. Are we still on for tonight?

The text made you smile grow even wider, and took your mind off the memory that threatened to ruin your night. Excitement rang through you as you answered the text, along with determination to figure out why your boyfriend had been acting weird all week.

And tonight, you finally might’ve figured out why. 

You:

Duh. I’ll be back home in an hour ; )

You let out a laugh at Bucky’s attempt and miserable fail to send a smiley face in reply to your message, noting the age joke you would have to make to him later. 

Bucky had been acting weird lately. 

Very weird. 

He didn’t think that you noticed his change in behavior, but you would’ve had to be blind not to notice. 

The two of you had missed each other all week, with Bucky either on back to back missions, or you swamped with cases. This was the first time all week the two of you had had any time to spend together, and you were soaking up every second of it. 

“Ha-Ha, very funny,” Bucky said in a dry tone, a crooked smile on his lips. “You're hilarious. Really.”

You dodged the cheese puff that had been weakly tossed at you by Bucky as he planted himself on the couch next to you, a giggle leaving your lips. 

“I’m sorry, but I had to,” you said, your laugh cutting through your sentence. “But gotta admit-that was a good one.”

Bucky paused, a small smirk forming. 

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “That was pretty good.” 

Your laughter faded, and so did his, but his smile remained as he locked eyes with you. He looked at you, really looked at you, and there was silence. It wasn’t an awkward silence, it was warm-a comfortable one. Bucky leaned in and his lips met yours, soft but firmly. The kiss lasted all but a few seconds, but it left you breathless. 

You could feel the lingering smile that was left on Bucky’s lips as he pulled away, his eyes still on you. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that all week.”

Bucky stayed closer than usual, and just…stared at you. He looked like he was in a daze, or dream as his deep blue eyes gazed right at you, eyes tracing your face. His smile never once left his lips, and you were starting to grow concerned, when he finally spoke. 

“I love you…”

That was exactly what you were talking about. 

That was weird. 

You had heard the three words from him hundreds of times, but this one, like many other ones this week, had sounded…off. 

You squinted in confusion, speaking. 

“Uh…I love you too…?

Your words seemed to have no effect though, as Bucky continued to simply…stare at you. He must have not realized how long he was staring, or that he was staring in the first place, and when you called his name, a few times at that, he seemed to snap out of the daze he was in. 

“Sorry,” he said, as he shook his head. “Uh-What were we doing before I got completely distracted?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, confused, but you brushed the moment off. You stole a few glances at Bucky throughout the night, and ultimately decided to let it go. Until later on…

“So…” Bucky paused, a question at his lips. “Why is it called The Office, if they barely ever do any work?

Bucky’s question had you letting out a laugh as you comfortably sat under his arm as it rested on your shoulders, the sitcom running in the background. 

“Well, that’s the point,” you laughed, Bucky’s face only making the sounds of laughter louder. “It’s more of a comedy than a realistic office show.”

“Huh,” Bucky whispered to himself at your explanation, and the way his brows furrowed told you he still didn’t quite get the concept. “Anyway, enough of that…”

Bucky reached for the remote and shut the tv off, and stood up heading for the kitchen, but not before pulling you along with him. 

“Hey! I was watching that!”

Bucky chuckled at your protest, and you had tons of questions as to why whatever just happened happened, but paused when Bucky had finally stopped pulling you when you reached the dining table, and you spotted two familiar containers of a desert you loved. 

Your eyes went wide as they fell to Bucky’s blue ones. 

“Shut. up.”

Bucky’s brows furrowed at your words. 

“I didn’t say anything-…”

“No, I mean,” you pointed to the dining table. “You can only get this cheesecake downtown…”

Your eyes fell to Bucky’s again. 

“Yeah, I-uh, made the stop on the way home.”

“And we couldn’t eat these in the living room while watching the office because…?”

Bucky seemed to scramble to say something, before he actually did utter something that sounded made up. 

“Well,” he threw his hand up. “We’re already in the kitchen, so…”

You opened your mouth to speak once more when Bucky was leading you away again, closer to the table this time, and stopped you right in front of the container of cheesecake. He handed you a fork before getting one for himself, and pulled a chair out for you.

You reluctantly lowered yourself in the chair across from Bucky, a wave of confusion hitting you. 

This was exactly what you were talking about. 

This was weird. 

Bucky was acting off. You could no longer brush off his bizarre behavior, and this showed when you set your fork down, brows furrowing at your boyfriend, curiosity filling you. 

And Bucky had noticed. 

“What..?”

You continued your stance as you sat back in your chair, your head tilting to the side, determined. Bucky looked visibly confused at the sudden change in your demeanor, and in his confusion, he mimicked your stance. 

“You’re being weird.”

“You started it.”

You could tell that Bucky had been at a loss for words, and scrambled to say something. 

“I-I thought that was your favorite thing about me.”

“Yeah…” you dragged out, your brows still furrowed. “But you’re acting weirder than usual. More than I’m comfortable with.”

“Uh…” Bucky once again scrambled to say something, before eventually reaching for his fork and digging into the cheesecake in front of him. “How was work…?”

You glanced around, confused at Bucky’s decision to stonewall your question. You had a feeling that simply asking what was going on would get you nowhere, so you thought you’d humor him. 

For now, anyway. 

 “Uh…well, it was a typical case. He was cheating, of course. They had married young and in the end they despised each other…and he tried to have her murdered.”

Bucky started right at you, stunned and startled by what you had just said. 

“Huh..”

“Yeah,” you sighed, finally digging into the cheesecake in front of you, vaguely noticing the way Bucky had sat up at the action, eyes focusing on you. “I just think it’s sad. The murder attempt and the cheating of course, but… I just think it’s sad to think they hadn’t started out that way. The relationship, I mean. They were headed for disaster from the moment they said ‘I do’…”

You took another bite of your cheesecake, and once again vaguely noticed a reaction from Bucky, as he suddenly stopped eating. 

“Uh, wh-what do you mean?”

You took Bucky’s question in, and paused for a moment, poking at your cake. 

You knew exactly what you meant. 

“Well,” you sighed, shrugging. “I just think that…marriage is where good-great- relationships go to die.”

“Um, wh-what do you mean?”

Bucky asked in the same tone he had previously, a mix of both anxious and shocked, as if he was caught off guard by your words. 

“I mean, it sells you a fairytale and in the end, you just end up hating each other. The same person you would’ve done anything for…you end up wanting to be as far away as possible from.”

“But they don’t…all end up that way, right?” Bucky asked, letting out a shaky little laugh as he scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, people still get married…right?

“Yeah. First timers. Cause they don’t know any better,” your tone dripping with obviousness. “If you ask me, they’re doomed right from the proposal.”

“How so…?” Bucky asked, another shaky laugh leaving him. 

“You know, the ones that are so predictable. Like at a famous landmark, like the Statue of Liberty, or the Eiffel Tower,” you started, and Bucky leaned in seeming more interested in the particular conversation. “Or the typical hiding the ring in a champagne glass, or a cake…”

Right at that moment, you noticed that Bucky had frozen. It was just enough that you had noticed it, his cheeks flushing a bit and a strained smile on his lips. 

“In a…cake?” He repeated, his voice a little higher than normal. 

You arched your brow slightly in response to his bizarre behavior, but kept going. 

“Yeah, it's just so cliche…”

Your eyes didn’t leave Bucky’s face when you spoke, and you watched as he sat up in his chair, clearing his throat. He picked up his fork and began to poke at his cake, his eyes flicking up and darting back down, occasionally stealing a look at the cheesecake that sat in front you. 

And you just couldn’t brush it off. 

“Okay, what is going on with you?”

Bucky’s gaze shot up to meet yours, and you thought you had sensed a bit of panic in his gaze, but it quickly evaporated as he changed his expression and smiled, one you thought was forced. 

“Nothing,” he shrugged, holding a smile.

You kept your gaze on him for a couple seconds, wanting to understand what was going on because you were sure that something was going on. But the only way you would get answers were through your questions that Bucky seemed to not want to answer. And with that in mind, you brushed off another unusual moment, something that was happening too often now. 

“Okay…,” you dragged out in a questioning tone, picking up your fork. “I’ll take your word for it then, I guess…”

Just before you could take another dig at the cake that sat before you, Bucky reached across the table, quickly swapping your cheesecake with his own. 

“Hey!,” you called out, throwing your hands up. “Why would you-?”

“I just thought you’d like mine better. Tastes better.”

Your brows furrowed at him. 

“But aren’t they the same-?”

Bucky wasted no time before digging into the cheesecake, your cheesecake. He dug his fork into the cake and when he brought it to his mouth, he chewed once or twice, and the third time his chewing came to a sharp halt, and he looked as if he had jolted a bit. 

Your brows furrowed even further if possible, and when Bucky came to the realization that you were watching him, he presented that same forced smile, stiff to the point of awkwardness, his eyes reflecting a kind of tension. 

“Okay…?” You said, finally taking another bite. 

You wanted to inquire forward, but the way that Bucky had brushed the matter off only made you feel as though nothing really had been going on, and that you had even imagined the moment. 

But it didn’t stop the questioning looks you gave your boyfriend for the remainder of the night. 

 6 Months Ago ~

Bucky’s POV:

Bucky didn’t mean to stare for as long as had been. But he just couldn’t help it. It had become a habit he had no interest or intention of breaking anytime soon. 

He couldn’t take his eyes off you as he watched you try -and fail- to balance the spoon on your nose, chuckling at you as you swore that you’d get it on the next try.

Moments with you were so…peaceful. Enjoyably chaotic at times, but…peaceful. Bucky was used to the chaos of missions, the fight or flight decisions that came with it, and at times he could never really separate his home life from them. He could never shut his mind off or stop it from running, with thoughts and memories of his past. 

But with you-when he was with you, there was quiet. You were the calm in his storm, a storm that had been brewing for years, a storm he thought would only and could only get worse. 

But somehow, you made it better. 

With you, he wasn’t simply surviving…he was living. With you he could just…let go. 

His slight awkwardness and his inability to adjust to the modern world hadn’t thrown you off, at all. Instead, you had embraced it, a joke in your mind for every time he had done something to assure he had grown up in different times. And this only drew you to him even more, because it had been a deep contrast between you and the other women who had ghosted him after the second-or even first-date. 

And as he kept his gaze on you, just enamoured, the familiar feeling hit him. A feeling he had been feeling more often than not lately. 

It was something he had never felt before, something that was new to him. 

It was the urge, the deep desire to just want to…stay. 

The word had plagued his thoughts for about a year now, but he knew it about a few months in. Instantly. 

Marriage. 

It was something that he tried to push out of his mind every time it came to him. Bucky didn’t think he deserved it-a future with you, one that sounded like heaven on earth. He didn’t think he deserved it-not after everything he’d done, and all the pain he had caused others with his past as the Winter Soldier. The guilt still ate him alive, and he had let go of the possibility a long time ago. 

But how could he not have hope again when you -the girl of his dreams- stood right in front of him? Sometimes he daydreamed about what married life would be like with you-probably not too far off from what it was now. 

The lazy mornings, your confusing-but intriguing- tv shows you had forced him to watch with you…if there was a possibility that this life with you could be forever…

He wanted that. And there was no doubt about it. 

He had no idea what marriage looked like, but he was willing to figure it out together. 

Bucky’s heart sank a bit though, as he thought back to the first-and last- time he had mentioned something about marriage. 

“Do you ever think about…marriage? Not like, now, but just…in general. Like is it something you’d…consider? Again…?”

The two of you were only a few months into your relationship, so Bucky could see why it was a weird question. But marriage was a further step that couples took, and it was something he never saw himself doing but meeting you, falling for you and feeling the way he did was never something he saw himself in either. 

He had wanted to ask for some time, but had held off on it, because he couldn’t predict how you would react due to your…unforeseen past and bad experience with marriage. Something Bucky knew was a sore spot for you. 

Bucky could tell that you had been caught off guard by the question, evident by the way you had choked on the coffee you had been sipping on, instantly making Bucky feel guilty. 

“I’m sorry,” Bucky shook his head as he scrambled to apologize, guiltily. “Sorry, that I brought it up, I didn’t mean to make you-uncomfortable. Just, never mind-“

“No, it’s-it’s okay,” you assured him, wiping the coffee that had dropped down your chin. “We can talk about it.”

Bucky noticed the way your body language had changed all of a sudden, your face taut as you sighed.  

“Um…well, I don’t know if I’d try again. My first one was a shit show, but it hadn’t always been. I made the decision to get married because I thought things would get better than what it was and…it just ended up blowing up in my face,” you shrugged, your gaze focused on the coffee in your mug. 

Bucky could feel the shift in your mood, and he reached over to place his hand over yours. You acknowledged him, forcing a smile. 

“I just think…why try to change it if it’s fine-great-the way it is?”

Bucky took your answer in, nodding. 

“Yeah…yeah, I get that. Makes sense…”

The truth was that it did make sense to Bucky, but…he couldn’t lie and say that he wasn’t a bit bummed by your answer. 

He could tell that your first marriage had left you shaken and changed something in you. He didn’t think he would be able to stop himself from doing something…unpleasant to the guy you had exchanged vows with before, so he didn’t like to think about it too much. 

He hadn’t wanted to push you, or force you to accept something you didn’t think you were ready for, so he never inquired further or brought up the word again. 

But the fact still remained-that he did want that future with you. 

So what if…the two of you could get it right this time?

Grow old-older, in his case,-together? It was something he was hopeful about, and if there was a chance-any chance- that you were willing to spend the rest of your life with him…

He just had to take it. 

It was just a matter of how, though. 

You couldn’t stop smiling to yourself as you waved the old couple goodbye, putting away the container of cookies the sweet old woman insisted you take. 

This had been one of the better cases, one you didn’t normally take, but you decided you would humor the elderly couple. They had hired you to investigate their son, who they had suspected was planning on throwing them a surprise anniversary party. 

You had been…puzzled, at first. You had explained to them that your services weren’t typically used for situations like theirs, but you had to admit, they had gotten to you. Convinced you, somehow. 

There was something about the couple that just made you…think. 

And think you did, for hours, as you sat at your desk at your agency.  

You thought about how adorable the old couple was, from how the husband still heartwarmingly still pulled the chair for his wife to sit in, to how they finished each other’s sentences. You couldn’t help but to notice the pictures that had hung on the walls, older and newer. The couple had been madly in love. And you didn’t know how but, you could tell that nothing had changed between them. 

They were still the same couple that they were in those pictures, their love having not faltered. 

And it just made you think about your own relationship. 

The word had plagued your thoughts for a while now. 

Marriage. 

You had been through it before, and it chewed your previous relationship up and spit it out. You had no idea that the outcome would have been what it was. It seemed impossible at the time. 

All you knew was that you were in love, and after you got married…it was almost as if the love was never there. 

A few years after that disaster, you had met Bucky. Someone who you could confidently say was the man of your dreams. 

Marriage was something couples used to progress in their relationship, something to take it a step further. It wasn’t required, though, and you thought that relationships could thrive even without a marriage. 

And that was exactly your point. 

What you had with Bucky was amazing. Something you had never experienced before, not even in your first marriage. No one’s relationship was perfect, but to you, yours and Bucky’s was perfect. 

Why the hell would you do anything to change that?

But on the other hand, something you thought about at times was…

What if?

Sometimes you thought about it. What forever would look like with Bucky…and it sounded like heaven on earth. and if Bucky had ever asked you to spend forever with him…you would want to. More than anything. 

But the truth was…that you were afraid. 

The what if’s didn’t only apply to whether you and Bucky could get it right but what if…you couldn’t?

What if…marriage ruined everything? What if you ended up hating the person you loved the most?

The possibility scared you more than anything. 

But it also didn’t make sense. A world where you couldn’t stand Bucky. You were perfect for each other. 

So the decision you had to make was clear…

If Bucky had asked you to spend forever with him…were you willing to take the chance? The chance of possibly losing what you two had, something that was special? Were you willing to make a bet on love?

The question rang in your mind for hours on end, and you were barely able to get any work done. 

And it wasn’t long before you felt it. 

The floor had started shaking beneath you, and it wasn’t long after until your desk had begun to do the same. In the same moment, you thought you had heard screaming and the rush of footsteps, but they sounded muffled- far, but close enough so that you could hear. 

The commotion had caused you and a few of your colleagues to rise from your desks, curious. No one had to say anything, though some did, but it was apparent that everyone wanted to know what was going on. 

Just as you were about to investigate, you both felt and heard the impact that had caused the windows to shatter, shards flying, screams and panic ensuing. 

Yourself and a few others flew, with nothing but the ground to break your fall. Your body began to ache from the impact, but you had no time to even suffer from the pain when you felt the violent rumble of the floor. 

You had no time to process what was happening, and before you knew it…

 You were falling. 

You felt a rush of air as you fell through the floor, and the impact of landing had been worse than the first, your ears left ringing and vision a bit blurry. You had hit the ground, hard, and it left you breathless. You were grateful that you could move though, and you stood shakily, your body in pain. You couldn’t see much, though, and you had soon realized it wasn’t due to your vision, which was close to clearing up. 

As you glanced around, you had just taken in how dark it was. And after shuffling around in the small space that had just seemed to be surrounded by rocks, you had soon realized that you were trapped. 

Rubble had boxed you in the enclosed space, and panic had begun to set in. You used all the strength you had to try to move a rock, any rock, to create a pathway, You yelled out in hopes that someone, anyone, would hear you, and had almost given up hope when no one seemed to answer you. 

You were stuck for all of ten minutes, when you finally did hear an answer -your name- and the sound of rushing footsteps as they came closer. 

 And you would have recognized the voice anywhere.

“Bucky?”

The footsteps sounded like they’d stopped right above you, and you heard your name again, confirming who you were talking to. 

“Bucky, I’m trapped! I-I can’t get out!”

“Hang on! I’m gonna pull you out!”

Not long after, you heard the movement of some rubble above you, debris falling past your head and hitting the ground. You could hear Bucky straining as he pushed rubble aside, and soon after, light had peeked through a crack above you. You heard more straining from Bucky and with a final yank and heave, you watched as Bucky pushed aside a large piece of rubble, leaving a gap just large enough so that you could slip through. 

“Give me your hand!”

You could see much better now, and you climbed on top of some uneven rubble so you could reach Bucky’s hand that was extended out to you. You were up and on even ground in an instant, Bucky pulling you up and out of the gap with ease. 

“Are you alright?” Concern leaked through Bucky’s tone, and his hands quickly moved to your face, his metal one cooler against your face as he checked for any marks, gently holding your face. 

“I’m fine,” you said, taking notice of the concern on Bucky’s face. “Just a little bruised, but I’m fine. I promise.”

Bucky glanced over your face, letting go of a breath that you didn’t know he was holding in and your face, tension leaving him when he believed you. 

You ran your eyes over Bucky, taking notice of the tear in his jacket, and the bruise that had been forming just above his brow, sweat dripping down his forehead. And you wasted no time in asking what was going on. 

“Are you okay? What is going on? What the hell just happened?”

“Sam and I were tracking a target and things got messy…and the building ended up being collateral,” he admitted. “I rushed in the second I realized the place was hit. I didn’t know if you were still inside…”

You felt the weight of Bucky’s words, overwhelmed at the fact that he had been willing to risk his life for you. There was a moment of silence, before Bucky cleared his throat, speaking.

“Uh-We should probably get the hell out of here. The rest of this place could come down at any minute...”

It felt like a journey trying to get out of the crumbling building. You both moved quickly, and you followed closely behind Bucky as he led you down the path he came, Bucky occasionally offering his hand to pull you up or through the rubble in your path, something that had no doubt been easier for him due to his enhanced abilities. 

You and Bucky hadn’t exchanged more than a few words in a while, and you stole glances at him as you walked side by side now, and you could tell that he had been doing the same with you by the way your eyes had met every now and then. 

Even as you and Bucky made your way out and through the damaged rubble to escape the crumbling building that threatened to fall at any moment, it wasn’t what was on your mind. 

Your mind was clouded with the thoughts you had been having all day, the same one you had had before you were in this mess. Bucky looked the same way. It looked as though he wanted to say something, but just chose to keep stealing glances at you. 

The silence between you was thick, and it only seemed to be getting worse. You thought maybe you should say something, anything, but Bucky had beat you to it. You stopped just a few feet ahead of Bucky, confused, as he came to a sharp halt. 

Bucky stood still for a moment, his eyes closed as he took short deliberate breaths. And about a second later, he opened his eyes, staring straight at you. 

“I can’t do this anymore…”

Your brows furrowed at him. 

“What are you talking about? Why did we stop?”

Your question seemed to fall on deaf ears as Bucky turned with his back to you and paced around for a moment, before turning to face you again. He ran his tongue over his lips before he locked eyes with you. 

“Hypothetically…if someone were to, say, ask you a really big question…what would your answer be?

“What?” You were beyond confused, your eyes wide as you looked at Bucky. You didn’t understand what could have been so important in a moment like this. 

There was silence again. And you watched and heard as Bucky sighed. 

“…I don’t have a speech or anything prepared, but…”

Bucky looked at the ground, sighing, and locked eyes with you once again. 

“There’s a lot about me that’s…complicated. Messed up, even…but you…you just make sense. Like somehow, you’re the one thing that fits when nothing else does.”

His words touched you, and you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. 

“I had let go of the prospect of a future a long time ago. It wasn’t like a door that had just closed- it was like a door that had been incinerated and burnt to ash. And there was nothing left to walk through. But then I met you…and that door just reappeared. Solid. Like it had never been gone…

You felt yourself freeze where you stood as you finally caught on, taking in Bucky’s words. You could have been wrong but…was Bucky proposing?

“I’ve been trying to do this all week,” Bucky pulled out a small box from his pocket, fiddling with it. “I tried to find the right words, and the right moment…and I have this ring that still has cake in it and it’s chipped from when I bit into it. Never mind that, though, -it’s a long story…”

Though confused at his words, you couldn’t help the light laugh that had left you at Bucky’s babbling. 

“I guess what I want to say is…I love you, Y/N. God, I love you.”

Bucky drew himself closer to you. 

“You’re the best damn thing that’s happened to me in a long time and what we have…I don’t ever want to let it go…”

Bucky sighed, his eyes still locked on yours. 

“I know you’ve been through a lot. And I know it didn’t go the way you had planned the first time around, and I’m not asking you to pretend that it didn’t happen. I don’t know what the future holds, but I do know that when I think about forever…my forever…there isn’t a world that exists where you’re not in it.”

You watched as Bucky furrowed his brows, perplexed. 

“Huh,” he whispered to himself, a small frown on his lips. “I guess I did have a speech…”

You and Bucky were left in silence. You were deep in thought, just…staring ahead. 

This was Bucky. Your Bucky. And as he stood before you confessing his love to you, words that rang true for you as well, babbling about things that you probably would never understand, the same question that had plagued your thoughts came to you again…

Were you willing to make a bet on love?

You didn’t have to ponder much to come up with an answer, and soon enough, your decision was clear. 

You thought to yourself…

That there wasn’t a world where you could ever hate Bucky Barnes. 

With the thought in mind, you bit back a smile, your eyes glancing at Bucky again. 

“Was that a proposal…?” You asked the question you already knew the answer to, and you watched as Bucky came to a realization.

“Shit-yeah. Yes-shit, I forgot to ask,” Bucky shook his head, and your loud sounds of laughter echoed off the rubble. He got down on one knee, holding out the box to you. “Y/N…will you marry me?”

Without a word, you pressed your lips against Bucky’s, the action catching him off guard. A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you deepened the kiss, and it said a million words that you didn’t have to say out loud. 

Bucky’s lips had held a smile similar to yours when you both pulled away, a question at his lips. 

“Um…was that a yes, or-?”

“Yes, Bucky! Yes, I’ll marry you!”

A relieved smile had painted Bucky’s face as he slipped the ring on your finger, and as he did, you couldn’t help the excitement and contentment that ran through you, as you thought about what forever with Bucky would look like. 

“So…what were you saying about there being cake in the ring…?”

“Oh-uh…I’ll explain as soon as we get out of here…”

[gohyemi]

My Ex, the Baby Chicky

"I would really love to meet Baby Chicky in real life, Uncle."

Nabi batted her eyes cutely at her uncle, fully aware that this was his weakness. She knew exactly how to get what she wanted, and using her irresistible charm was her ultimate weapon.

Lee Seokmin chuckled nervously, already hesitating at her request. He could practically hear his sister’s warning echoing in his head.

"Remember, Seokmin, don’t spoil her too much, or else—"

"Yes, Noona, I will. Don’t worry and just go," he had reassured her before she left for her business trip.

It wasn’t that his sister didn’t trust him, but she knew all too well how much he tended to indulge Nabi. And when Nabi got too used to being spoiled, she became a little rebel when she didn’t get her way at home.

"How can you meet Baby Cheeks, Nabi-ah? She’s just a cartoon on TV," Seokmin said, ruffling her hair.

Nabi huffed, swatting his big hand away.

"Uncle, it’s Baby Chicky, not Baby Cheeks!" she corrected him, tugging at his sweater to make him lean down. "If you get me Baby Chicky, I won’t tell Eomma that you broke her vase yesterday."

Seokmin’s eyes widened in horror. She saw that?! He had been so sure she wasn’t in the room when it happened.

"No way… You wouldn’t—"

"I want Baby Chicky!" she demanded, crossing her arms.

Seokmin groaned. He was doomed.

Meanwhile, across town…

"Y/N, just this once, please help me!"

Y/N stared at her friend, already on the verge of breaking down. People begging was her ultimate weakness, and her friend knew it.

"So… you want me to wear that costume and go entertain some kids?" she asked, eyeing the large, fluffy Baby Chicky mascot suit with visible suspicion.

Her friend nodded enthusiastically, practically bouncing in excitement.

"What if it’s some creepy old man with a weird costume kink or something?!" Y/N blurted out.

"Eiiihh, why would you even think that?!"

"Because he's paying way too much just for someone to prance around his house in a costume!"

Her friend blinked at her innocently before resuming the relentless begging.

"Please, please, please! I promise you’ll get six-fifths of the pay!"

"That’s not even how fractions work—"

"Pleaaaaase!"

Y/N sighed, rubbing her temples. She had a bad feeling about this.

————————

Ding dong!

Seokmin’s face lit up with excitement as he scooped Nabi into his arms.

"Nabi-ah, your surprise is here! Let’s go greet it at the door!"

Nabi squealed happily, grabbing onto her uncle’s hand and dragging him toward the entrance.

After Seokmin carried her in his arms, Seokmin checked the door monitor to see who was outside. He grinned as he spotted the familiar mascot costume on the screen.

"Who is it?" he asked playfully, giggling along with Nabi.

From the other side of the door, a muffled voice cheerfully announced,

"It’s your Baby Cheeks!"

Nabi gasped, her tiny brows furrowing. "Baby Chicky! How could you say your own name wrong?" she pointed out, sounding almost offended.

Y/N’s POV

"Damn it!"

Y/N was already sweating under the suffocating costume, her heart racing as she forced out a nervous chuckle.

"W-Well, my baby," she said, trying to recover, "I just wanted to see if you really know me!"

End POV

She could only pray that the little girl would buy her excuse.

Just as she let out a sigh of relief, she heard the door unlock. Straightening up, she prepared to greet the excited child—only to freeze the moment her eyes met a face she never expected to see again.

Lee Seokmin.

He stood there, giggling, completely unaware of who was inside the costume. With a bright smile, he encouraged the little girl to run forward and hug her.

Y/N suddenly felt exposed, as if the ridiculous mascot suit wasn’t even there, like she was completely bare under his gaze.

How fool she is to not ask information about this client. And now she need to spend the day here in his EX house.

"Baby Chicky!" Nabi’s excited shout snapped her back to reality.

This was going to be a long day.

———————————————

After spending half the day playing with the child in this damn costume, she could now fully admit—she was swimmingin sweat.

The suit felt like a personal sauna, and every movement made it worse.

Nabi, on the other hand, was exhausted but still stubbornly refusing to stop playing. Her growing frustration soon turned into full-blown tantrums.

Seokmin sighed before gently yet firmly cradling her in his arms. After a few moments of rocking her, he excused himself to take her to her room for a nap.

This was her chance.

With Seokmin gone, she attempted to sneak out of the house. But there was just one problem.

The costume was too heavy. And she was too tired.

The best she could manage was crawling toward the door like a defeated soldier retreating from battle.

Just as she reached the entrance, she heard footsteps behind her.

"I'm so sorry about that. She's just—"

Seokmin’s voice suddenly paused.

She froze.

Silence stretched between them.

Then—

"What… are you doing?" Seokmin asked, his voice laced with confusion and amusement.

She slowly looked up to see him staring down at her, his brows raised and a chuckle escaping his lips.

Busted.

"Hehehe, you know... the costume is too heavy for me to stand up," she said, still using the high-pitched Baby Chicky voice.

Seokmin giggled at the ridiculousness of it all before reaching out to help her stand. He even dusted off her legs for her since she can’t reach it.

"You can talk normally, you know. And you should take that thing off—it must be heavy after wearing it all day. Nabi’s asleep now, and seriously, thank you for today. You must be exhausted."

This. This was what she hated about him. Even in front of strangers, he always worried too much.

"I-It’s okay!" she blurted out. "I think I need to leave. My boss might want me to write a report about this!"

She was so close to escaping, but just as she took a step forward, Seokmin’s hand shot out and grabbed her wings (the costume), stopping her in her tracks.

"Wait, you have to write a report about entertaining kids?" he asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"No! I just really want to leave!" she admitted, trying once again to make her grand exit.

"Wait—your payment! I haven’t given it to you yet!"

Seokmin instinctively reached out to stop her, but her wrist was already out of reach. In a desperate attempt, he grabbed the nearest object—

The mascot’s big Baby Chicky head.

And that was his mistake.

The sudden pull made her stumble backward, completely off balance. At the same time, Seokmin tripped over absolutely nothing.

And like a slow motion the scene goes, the oversized head flew off dramatically through the air.

Time seemed to pause.

She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for impact.

But… nothing happened.

Instead, she felt something warm and solid beneath her.

Slowly, she realized—Seokmin had caught her.

One of his arms was wrapped protectively around her waist, while the other cradled the back of her head, shielding her from hitting the floor.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Seokmin’s eyes fluttered open, his expression shifting from dazed confusion to pure shock as he took in the face beneath the costume.

His lips parted slightly. "Jagiya…?"

Oh no.

Mentally, she facepalmed so hard she could practically hear it.

The could not get any better sudden storm burst outside and the sound of the rain hit the ground could be heard. 

‘Of course, when the day I dont bring my car’ she monologue -------------------------------------------------------------------

was inspired when watching eunwoo from The Return of Superman

[taikeero-lecoredier]

Chat Control in a nutshell (please reblog this, US people)

Find out more about Chat Control here TAKE ACTION HERE ! OR HERE Calling is much more efficient ! The latter link will redirect you to the official websites of your respective reps. Under the "read more", you will find what you need to say/write when contacting your reps. You will also find an alternate format of this comic,and I give explicit permission for people to translate it and spread it anywhere for awareness. Credit really not needed, I don't care about that rn Even if this is a EU proposal, I am urging Americans to also share this, since it goes hand in hand with KOSA. DON'T FORGET TO JOIN OUR DISCORD SERVER AGAINST CHAT CONTROL ! https://discord.com/invite/e7FYdYnMkS

(Latest update on Chat Control was the 12 september 2024) This is a little long, so feel free to shorten it as you wish : Subject line: "2022/0155(COD) Dear Sir/Madam, I am writing to express my grave concerns regarding the proposed introduction of "Chat Control" This measure poses a serious threat to the privacy and fundamental rights of all EU citizens and stands in stark contradiction to the core principles that the European Union seeks to uphold. The proposed Chat Control contravenes Articles 7 and 8 of the Charter of Fundamental Rights of the European Union, which guarantee the right to respect for private and family life and the protection of personal data. The indiscriminate surveillance of private messages without specific suspicion or cause directly violates these fundamental rights. The General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR) sets out stringent rules for the processing of personal data. The proposed indiscriminate surveillance and scanning of private messages before end-to-end encryption is fundamentally incompatible with the principles of data minimization and purpose limitation enshrined in the GDPR. Specifically, Articles 5 and 6 of the GDPR, which govern the lawfulness and principles of data processing, would be violated by the introduction of such measures. The implementation of Client-Side Scanning (CSS) on devices means that all messages and files are scanned on the user's device before being encrypted and sent. This effectively nullifies the protection offered by end-to-end encryption and opens the door to misuse and additional security vulnerabilities. Moreover, the technical capability to scan such content could be exploited by malicious actors to circumvent or manipulate surveillance mechanisms. Such far-reaching surveillance measures not only endanger privacy but also freedom of expression. The knowledge that their private messages are being scanned and monitored could significantly restrict individuals' willingness to freely express themselves. Additionally, trust in digital communication platforms would be severely undermined. I urge you to take a strong stance against this disproportionate and unlawful measure. The privacy and digital rights of EU citizens must be safeguarded. It is imperative that we protect our fundamental rights and ensure transparency in the decision-making processes of our leaders. For more detailed information on the proposal and its implications, please refer to the following resource: Link to Netzpolitik article. https://www.patrick-breyer.de/rat-soll-chatkontrolle-durchwinken-werde-jetzt-aktiv/ Thank you for your attention to this critical matter. Sincerely, [Name] Art. 10 GG , Art. 8 & 11 EU Charta , Art. 8 EMRK (Alternate comic here V)

[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Chapter 1

Finnick Odair x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

The first thing you remember after they lifted you from the arena was the hands of Capital doctors grabbing at you. Three weeks in the arena had left you extremely weak and you had a bad cut on your face but none of that mattered. They were touching you and you didn’t like that.

The second thing you remember after they lifted you from the arena was waking up chained to your hospital bed, surrounded by peacekeepers and President Snow.

“Miss Y/L/N,” the old man stated. “I wish you wouldn’t be so difficult with us.”

“Difficult?” you ask with what little voice you have left.

“It seems that you won’t let us treat your wounds, or let anyone get close to you for that matter,” he states. “The poor doctor was just trying to take your temperature when you stabbed him with a scalpel.”

“He was touching me,” you reply.

“Oh my dear we have a long road ahead of us if you are planning on remaining… difficult.”

You hadn’t meant to kill so many people. First it was 6 in the arena, then it was the doctor in the capital, then it was your first client, then it was another capital doctor and a peacekeeper trying to restrain you. By the time you came down from your lapse in sanity, you had been sentenced to house arrest in District 4’s victors village.

“Feral” is what they called you. To everyone outside of your home you were uncontrollable; crazy; even dangerous. To yourself, you were broken; confused; misunderstood. To him, you were everything.

“Y/N Y/L/N!” Linessa, the District 4 escort, calls out as she reaps the tributes for the 75th annual Hunger Games. Mags moves to volunteer but you quickly shoot her a look and she backs down. She knows you won’t hurt her, in fact, she’s one of the few people who genuinely cares for you, but she knows not to interfere when your mind is made up.

Annie shrinks into Mags’ side as you shuffle past her towards the escort. She’s another poor, misunderstood being like you. The two of you have never been friends for the simple reason that she is absolutely terrified of you and sometimes her meltdowns set you off. Maybe in a different reality you two would be friends, but not in this one.

Peacekeepers follow you to the front of the stage as you drag your shackled feet forward. This is the first time anyone besides the victors has seen you in around 5 years, and they’re getting a good look at what “feral” looks like.

The peacekeepers hold a gun to your back as you stand on the stage, head high. It’s so hot out you’re hoping you’ll sweat enough to slip your hands out of your cuffs. The district center looks the same as the last time you saw it all those years ago.

“Finnick Odair,” Linessa reads out and your head immediately snaps towards her. She lets out a small shriek and the peacekeepers tighten their hold on their guns as Finnick makes his way to the front to stand next to you. Of course, they don’t let him get anywhere near you, but you wouldn’t hurt him. You would burn the whole world to the ground if it meant protecting him.

The peacekeepers allow Mags to join you and Finnick on the train but they don’t let her anywhere near you. Finnick tries to tell them that you’re fine and won’t hurt anyone but they won’t listen.

You’re done trying to advocate for yourself. In fact, it’s useless. You haven’t spoken to anyone besides Finnick in five years. Not since your client…

Anyways, peacekeepers escort you to your room and set up guard in the hall. They’re too scared to be in the room with you, and none of the avoxes will go near you.

You wouldn’t have even been fed if it weren’t for Finnick barging into your room (despite the peacekeepers’ protests) with a plate of food. The peacekeepers made him keep the door open so they could monitor the situation but at least you could eat.

“How are you feeling?” Finnick asks as you pick at your food. You shrug your shoulders in response. He goes to lay his hand close to yours in comfort, causing one of the peace keepers to pipe up.

“Hey!” he yells, causing you to jump. “Back up Mr. Odair. We’ve been advised not to let anyone get within five feet of it.”

Finnick stands up and moves himself between you and the peacekeepers.

“First of all,” he states. “She is not an ‘it’. She’s a human being like the rest of us. Secondly, she is not a danger to me. She would never hurt me and even if she tried we both know I would win that fight. Scaring her like that is only going to set her off, and I won’t hold her back if she does. The best thing you can do, for everyone’s safety, is treat her like a human being, absolutely do not touch her, and no yelling. She’s not an animal, she’s traumatized.”

“Sir we’ve been ordered to shoot her at the first sign of agression. The capital doctors have advised us that she’s a danger to those around her,” the peacekeeper states.

“The capital doctors haven’t seen her in over five years!” Finnick exclaims. “They don’t know the first thing about her. Now get out and let us eat in peace. Don’t forget I’ve killed people too.”

The peacekeepers, visibly shaken, leave your room and allow the door to close. Finnick sits back down on your bed with you to resume your meal.

Taglist:

@randomgurl2326 @mystargirl-interlude @uther-pendragon-is-an-ass @yourdailymemedelivery @americanprometheuss @l3xi3luv @noisyalmonddreamer @nordicvxid @teaganthemorningstar @samatokisunfinishedcigarette @justtrying2getby @heytherellala @notplutos

[squidsquidsquidsquidsquidgame]

Please please please more twins and namgyu

oooo

The birth

Character: Nam-Gyu X fem!reader

Summary: How he felt and acted while you gave birth to the twins (Girl: Ry-yeon, Boy: Sae-Hyun)

Warnings: none

Nam-Gyu had always prided himself on being cool under pressure. He could handle tense negotiations, difficult clients, and even a crying baby in a restaurant without breaking a sweat. But today? Today, he was a complete mess.

Your hand squeezed his like a vice, and he swore he could feel his bones shifting under the pressure. You were mid-contraction, your face contorted in pain, and all he could do was uselessly whisper, "You're doing so well, jagiya," even though he knew that wasn’t enough.

The hospital room smelled of antiseptic, and the beeping of monitors blended with the hushed voices of the medical staff. Nam-Gyu had read every book, watched every video, even practiced breathing exercises with you. But nothing had prepared him for this—watching the love of his life in pain and not being able to do a damn thing about it.

"Get them out, Nam-Gyu," you groaned, your forehead damp with sweat. "I swear, I—"

"I know, I know, baby, they're coming soon," he reassured, though he had no control over the timing. He glanced at the doctor for confirmation, but they were too focused on delivering your firstborn.

Then, after what felt like a lifetime—one final push, a sharp cry filled the room. "It's a girl!"

Nam-Gyu sucked in a breath. Ru-Yeon. Their daughter. His little girl.

"She’s here," he choked out, his voice thick with emotion as he caught a glimpse of her. Tiny, red-faced, and already wailing like she had important things to say. He wanted to hold her, to tell her how much he loved her already, but he couldn’t leave your side. And then—"One more, almost there!"

Your grip on him tightened as the contractions returned. He kissed your knuckles, whispering soft encouragements even as his own voice shook. "Almost, jagiya, just a little more."

Minutes later, another cry rang out.

"A boy!" Nam-Gyu let out a shaky laugh, pure relief washing over him. Sae-Hyun. His son. His firstborn son.

He looked at you, completely exhausted but still the most beautiful person he had ever seen. "You did it," he murmured, brushing damp strands of hair from your face. "You’re incredible."

When the nurses placed the twins in your arms, Nam-Gyu felt something deep in his chest shift. A kind of love so profound it was terrifying.

Carefully, he reached out, running a trembling finger over Sae-Hyun’s tiny hand. The baby grabbed it instinctively, holding on tight. Ry-Yeon, nestled against your chest, let out a tiny sigh.

Nam-Gyu exhaled, overwhelmed.

He had been so worried about whether he would be a good father, about whether he could handle twins. But now, looking at them—his family—he realized something. No matter how much he worried, no matter how chaotic things got, he would love them with everything he had. And that was enough.

[eldritch-spouse]

Fucking robot. Why does he always bother me during breaks? He doesn't even need breaks.

“Hi Xavier. Was there something that you needed?”

You know he likes you because he bothers to address you by your name. As opposed to a serialized string of numbers and letters.

The numbers before your shift code and initials make you wonder just how many of them there were before you. How many he tossed away after an unfortunate workplace accident. That tag on your uniform is more of a death sentence than anything.

'Like'... As if this tin can is actually able of feeling.

It's more realistic to say he sees value in you, for some reason, and employs some kind of social algorithm to fabricate a twisted sort of relationship.

" You have been consistently distracted lately. "

Is that a warning?

Two red abyss-like orbs cast a crimson filter upon your face. It always feels like Xavier is watching you a little too closely, monitoring more than just your verbal responses.

" Ah, my bad! " You force a wobbly smile. " I promise it doesn't get in the way of my wo- "

" It does. " He silences you immediately, imposing and unforgiving in his cold corrections. " Clients notice when you zone out. Your movement speed is drastically reduced and the chances of committing errors -which you have by now- is considerably increased. Spacing out this much is in no way acceptable behavior for a multitude of... "

Only the very real notion that he's noting your facial expressions stops you from rolling your eyes at the robot's tireless monolog regarding the dangers and consequences of being distracted at work. One of your eyes still manages to twitch, as if in defiance.

" Yes sir, I understand. " You try to cut in, try to abort that speech before it turns into a whole lecture.

One camera cranes down slightly. " Your reputation as the exemplary employee is being damaged. "

Xavier says this like it should make you anxious. You hate that he thinks of you as an example, that he emphasizes it constantly. Not only is it putting unnecessary pressure on you for no compensation, it's also costing you the few mild friendships you have worked to maintain in this hostile minefield of an environment.

The more he speaks of you as some ideal of professionalism, the more others give you judgemental side-eyes. Sneers. Avoid you. Spread snide comments that then find their way to you through gossip.

Maybe if Xavier stopped exalting your mediocre performance, your asshole coworkers would stop murmuring that you've been orally pleasing the glorified microwave.

Xavier doesn't even have a dick! Why would he?! He's an artifical stand in for a manager that only cares about the dehumanizing process of maximizing profit.

He doesn't have a penis. You think.

You only realize a long silence has installed itself this whole time when the robot breaks it.

" ... Are you ill? "

" Huh- No. No, I just have a lot on my mind. I'll work on it boss. "

There's another pause. This time, you presume Xavier is waiting for you to cave under pressure, or counting the pores on your complexion. You bet he'd know the exact number.

" You have not allowed access to more in-depth medical records. If I had such a permission, I would be able to rework your current shift into something more suitable for any preexisting conditions such as- "

" Uh no sir, no. I don't think that's relevant, it's probably just my sleep schedule. " The thought of Xavier knowing about your health beyond what is strictly necessary for employment is chilling to the core.

He takes the rejection silently, lenses refreshing.

" I know who is bothering you. "

Xavier says, so naturally and spontaneously that you gawk for a moment, forever surprised by his eery bursts of casual remarks.

" ... Pardon? "

These moments make it seem as if there's more than mere cold calculations running through his processor components.

Xavier drifts that much closer to you, now suffocating your personal space. Only the crimson of his camera lenses light the dingy alley you've chosen as your break spot.

" Incubus, Babesley. Masseur. He has self-inflicted carvings on his body consisting of infatuated statements and your name. "

You rattle for a second, the memory of the demon's mutilated chest surfacing, his wild and desperate eyes searching yours for a hint of approval that wasn't there, only disgust and fear.

" Wrathfolk, Mozgrag. Trapper. Teamed up with the incubus upon being confronted, effective in forcing his way to you at any cost. "

Another memory flashes by, burly hands carelessly tearing the horns out of someone's head, he'd look at you when the screams rang, attempting to prove something you only saw as terrifying murderous intent.

Shaken, irritated, afraid, you openly glare at Xavier.

" Why haven't you done anything... " It was too quiet to sound as confrontational as you wished.

There's a split second where his stiff arms twitch, like the machine was trying to roll its shoulders. Cameras tilt and reposition, erroneously assuming the light from his lenses is what's causing you to tear up.

" The customer is always right. " Faintly, or perhaps just in your head, his words sounded dragged out.

" Then what's the problem?! "

You can't help the childish irritation, the desire to pluck your hairs out of your scalp in a pull that might just tear your skin asunder. You want to scream and kick this stupid fucking machine until it shuts off. Why does he bother you during your breaks to ask things that make no sense, to unnerve you, to create contradictions. You've never had a positive interaction with this robot. Why would he mention those two if he seemingly has no problem with their attitudes?

You know he doesn't care, because your coworkers are also living through their own cases of harassment at the hands of the denizens of Hell. You've had to pretend you didn't hear the sound of a cashier's arm being twisted in all the wrong directions before. Reminded that quitting is not an option, that you can only pray such doesn't happen to you.

" Your performance- "

No. Shut up.

" Okay, let's do some math, Xavier. " You growl. " My precious work performance is being impacted by a lot of things, but mainly those two. Those two are customers, and the customer is always right, aren't they? So there's nothing to be done, yeah?! Stop- "

Your confidence begins to falter when you realize you've stepped out of line, that you snapped at your own superior. The fear of consequences flashes very briefly across your eyes. That's enough, you need to calm down. You need to leave.

Xavier's silence doesn't help.

" I'll... I'll be heading back to work now. "

Head hanging low, you attempt to swiftly retreat into work, halted quickly by cold metal wrapping around your arm.

His grip is as frighteningly solid as it is sudden.

You don't remember Xavier having ever touched you before.

When you squirm around to glance at him, ask what he thinks he's doing, those two cameras pin you into silent obedience. You could never hope to free yourself of his grasp, only if you wished to tear a limb out of its socket.

" Do you think I enjoy these limitations? "

There's a mute gasp. Then the pain of his grip tightening, restricting your blood flow into a tingling soreness. Your teeth bare themselves.

" I don't think you enjoy anything at all, machine. "

It was ruthless, yet, deep down, you almost believed it.

Xavier stares at you for another prolonged period of time, unaware that the pain in your arm is only worsening. You have no idea what occurs behind those lenses, what those words might mean to him.

Metallic fingers unclasp with the slowness of a decompressing blood pressure monitor, allowing you to yank your own limb back and hold it to your chest like an animal licking its wounds.

" ... This issue will be resolved. "

He doesn't make a move to follow after you. In fact, Xavier remains staring forward, at the empty space where you once stood.

Maybe you broke him. Who cares, he might give you peace for the rest of your shift.

[apomaro-mellow]

Built for Loving 3

Part 2

Complaints went to the phones first. Every bot of every kind came with everything it needed to operate, including a guide that had the number to the IT department. Like any customer service, the ones operating the phone had an entire script to read from, that they eventually memorized. Cindy could do it in her sleep at this point so when the phone rang, she didn’t even look up from her magazine as she answered.

“Brenner Bot Helpline, this is Cindy, how may I help you?”

She was also used to the irritation, the yelling, and even the cursing. The pace of her page flipping didn’t change, even as the customer’s language turned really crude when complaining about their bot’s function.

“Is it fully charged?....Uh-huh, have you tried turning it off and on again?...Uh-huh, are the language settings in English? Alright, well what’s the model number?” She hummed as she typed it into her computer, the product specifications coming up. Ah, a pleasure bot. “And what’s the nature of your problem again?”

Cindy’s bored expression fell and her eyes narrowed as the customer went through it again. “Are you sure?”

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

There was a cool down period of at least a week before Eddie was allowed to take on a new project as the lead. It was meant to discourage burnout. That meant helping his co-workers with their builds. He had to admit, even though the bot that Fleischer was working on wasn’t his type, he had to commend the guy for figuring out how to make that bust to waist ratio work in the real world.

Eddie whistled as they watched her do a walk test. They hadn’t grafted the skin onto her yet, so she was all metal, but still a beaut to Eddie.

“Talk about a bombshell.”

“Yeah, just wait ‘til she gets some color on her”, Fleischer said, watching the robotic hips move.

“Munson, boss wants to see you”, the intern said, poking their head into the lab space.

That immediately put Eddie on edge. Owens only came on down to inspect bots before they were rolled out. And Eddie had said goodbye to Steve almost two weeks ago. He followed the intern to a different lab space where Owens was waiting.

“I’ll save you the suspense and cut right to it. Something’s off about your robot”, Owens said. He was sitting in a chair by one of the many monitors in the room.

“What?”

“He’s being returned so that we can fix him and get him back out there.”

Normally it was an embarrassment to have your bot returned to the facility. It meant the issue was more than cosmetic. Something was wrong with the build, possibly down to the software and a quick call to customer service wasn’t going to fix the issue.

Eddie never once thought something he’d made would get sent back. His programs and blueprints had always gotten top marks in school. That kind of shame would never fall on him.

Now though…now he didn’t care.

He was going to see his creation again. It didn’t matter what was wrong. Maybe the knumbskulls that boxed him up and put him on a delivery truck jostled him too much, messed with his programming somehow. Either way, Eddie would get to lay eyes on him. He barely had time to react and even think of what the problem might be before a large box was carted in.

“What was the complaint?”, Eddie asked as the workers opened the box and began moving Steve onto the operating table.

Owens stood up and sighed. “He wasn’t following orders.”

Eddie paused mid-step. That shouldn’t happen. Ever. “They had the right language settings?”

“Don’t patronize me like I’m IT, kid. All the settings are as they should be. But when he was powered on, the client gave a request and your bot refused.”

“That’s impossible. I know what I programmed.” Eddie went to Steve’s side and opened up his chest cavity, taking out his prime chip and going over to the computer. “And you’re the one that did the final check. He’s as submissive as can be. There’s nothing he’ll say no to.”

“Apparently there is”, Owens crossed his arms, watching as Eddie pulled out a cord. 

He connected it from the computer to Steve’s ear to get access to his recordings, putting it side by side with his coding to see where the protocols failed. Eddie honestly would have loved to watch the whole thing. But Owens was here, so he figured he should just skip to right before Steve was powered off. 

It happened on his third day of operation. Steve exited sleep mode as he felt the client touch him. The recording came with a timestamp, 11 p.m. The client, a male in his fifties, brought Steve to a room full of other men. One approached Steve and tried to initiate a kiss, but Steve turned his head away. That in itself wasn’t enough cause for alarm. Bots always prioritized their owners. 

“It’s okay, go ahead and let him kiss you”, the client said. It was said encouragingly but to a pleasure bot, that was as good as an order. 

Eddie watched the code run through the protocols. It should have been yeses across the board. But the progression suddenly stopped.

“No.”

“The hell?”

“The fuck you just say, boy?”

He didn’t answer, frozen in space. Eddie had programmed Steve to say yes and obey. There was no path forward if he said no. That was enough cause for the client to make a move though. Steve’s head was still turned away from the other man, so Eddie could only hear the approach.

“Go to the guest room and power down.”

Steve obeyed easily and Eddie watched through his eyes as he left, walked to a bedroom, and situated himself against a wall before powering down. Eddie let out a breath and put his hands behind his head.

“Diagnosis?”, Owens asked.

“It’s probably just a malfunction with owner identification. I can fix it up, no problem.”

“Good. Wouldn’t wanna make a habit out of having your bots returned”, Owens said. “Oh and while you’re at it, he wants an upgrade on the skin. He specified the newest line.”

“Of course he did”, Eddie rolled his eyes. The kind that flushed, bruised, and bled. It was pricier for sure, and it meant you had to get your bot serviced like a car at least once a year, depending on usage. But, hell, if the dude had the money. Eddie just wouldn’t think too hard about how the bruising would come into play. 

Owens went on his way and Eddie called up the intern to put in an order for the new skin as he got to work on the software again. Before that though, he decided to torture himself by watching the log from start to finish. It wasn’t strictly necessary, given that he’d already found the inciting problem. But maybe there was more to it.

Steve seemed to have no problem with what came before, although from what Eddie would see as he fast forwarded through it, things had been vanilla up to that fateful night. But on that third night, he guessed the client was ready for something new. Something that Steve should have been ready and willing to do. Eddie had programmed Steve to say yes. This time, he went the extra mile and put it in his code that he was unable to say no. The skin came the next day and Eddie removed Steve’s old facade and grafted the new flesh on. It looked exactly as the old one, covered in moles and freckles that Eddie had put on himself just like last time. 

Owens performed the check again, but this time with the code on screen so they could watch it go green with each prompt. Owens gave him the stamp of approval again. Eddie signed off again. 

But this time, after Owens left and before the delivery crew came in, Eddie held Steve’s hand and kissed his knuckles. It was still warm from the testing. Then he leaned over and kissed his lips.

“This is really goodbye.”

Because if Owens’ reality check hadn’t been enough, seeing it with his own eyes through the recording did the trick. He might have made Steve, but he wasn’t his to own. He belonged to whoever paid for him. And they were allowed to do whatever they wanted to him. Eddie watched Steve get carted away for a second time, this time feeling numb to it.

It was three months before their paths crossed again.

Part 4

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

Chapter 1: Ghost In the Machine

The hum of the fluorescent lights in "Byte Me" IT Solutions was a monotonous drone against the backdrop of Gotham's usual cacophony. Rain lashed against the grimy window, each drop a tiny percussionist drumming out a rhythm of misery. Inside, however, misery was a bit more… organized.

I sighed, wrestling with a particularly stubborn strain of ransomware. "CryptoLocker v. 7.3," the diagnostic screen read. A digital venereal disease, if you asked me. Another day, another infected grandma's laptop filled with pictures of her grandkids and a crippling fear that hackers were going to steal her identity.

"Still at it?" My coworker, Mark, sidled over, clutching a lukewarm mug of something vaguely resembling coffee. Mark was a good guy, perpetually optimistic despite working in one of Gotham's less-than-glamorous neighborhoods. Bless his heart.

"You know it," I replied, jabbing at the keyboard. "Think I've finally managed to corner the bastard. Just gotta… there!" The screen flashed a success message. "One less victim of the digital plague."

Mark nodded, then his eyes drifted to the hulking metal beast in the corner, a Frankensteinian creation of salvaged parts and mismatched wiring. "How's the behemoth coming along?"

I followed his gaze. My pet project. My escape. "Slowly but surely. Got the cooling system optimized today. Almost ready to fire it up."

"Planning anything special with it?" Mark asked, his brow furrowed in curiosity. "You've been collecting scraps for months. It's gotta be more than just a souped-up gaming rig."

I shrugged, a deliberately vague gesture. "You could say I'm planning something… big. Something Byte Me isn't equipped to handle."

Mark chuckled. "Well, whatever it is, I'm sure you'll make it sing. You've got a knack for that sort of thing." He wandered off, whistling a jaunty tune that died a slow, agonizing death against the backdrop of the Gotham rain.

He had no idea just how much of a knack.

Mark bid me one final goodbye before pulling out an umbrella and disappearing into the night. No doubt he stops at Nero’s pizzeria before going home to his wife and kids. You watched through the shop window before he disappeared around the corner. Then, you locked the door and reached for the light switch. The fluorescent lights flickered a final, dying gasp before plunging the shop into darkness. I waited a beat, the city's distant sirens a mournful choir. Then, I flipped the hidden switch behind the breaker box, illuminating a small, secluded corner of the shop.

Rain hammered against the grimy windowpanes of my "office," a repurposed storage room tucked away in the forgotten bowels of the shop. The rhythmic drumming was almost hypnotic, a bleak lullaby for a city perpetually on the verge of collapse. I ignored it, fingers flying across the keyboard, the green glow of the monitor painting my face in an unsettling light. Outside, the city's distant sirens formed a mournful choir. Here, the air crackled with a different kind of energy.

"Almost there," I muttered, the words barely audible above the whirring of the ancient server rack humming in the corner. It was a Frankensteinian creation, cobbled together from spare parts and salvaged tech, but it packed enough processing power to crack even the most stubborn encryption algorithms. Laptops with custom OSes, encrypted hard drives, and a tangle of wires snaked across the desk. This was Ghostwire Solutions, my little side hustle. My… outlet.

Tonight's victim, or client – depending on how you looked at it – was a low-level goon. One was a two-bit thug named "Knuckles" Malone; the other, a twitchy character smelling of desperation, Frankie "Fingers" Falcone. Malone's burner phone, or Falcone's data chip containing an encrypted message, was now on the screen in front of me, a jumble of characters that would make most people's eyes glaze over. For me, it was a puzzle. A challenging, if morally questionable, puzzle.

My service, "Ghostwire Solutions," was discreet, to say the least. No flashy neon signs, no online presence, just word-of-mouth referrals whispered in dimly lit back alleys. I was a ghost, a digital shadow flitting through the city's underbelly, connecting people. That's how I liked to justify it anyway. I cracked my knuckles and went to work. My fingers danced across the keyboard, feeding the encrypted text into a series of custom-built algorithms, each designed to exploit a specific vulnerability. Hours melted away, marked only by the rhythmic tapping of keys and the soft hum of the custom-built rig in the corner, its processing power gnawing away at the digital lock.

The encryption finally buckled. A cascade of decrypted data flooded the screen. I scanned through it, a jumbled mess of texts, voicemails, location data, or a simple message detailing a meeting point and time. Mostly dull stuff about late payments and turf wars, the mundane reality of Gotham's criminal element. I extracted the relevant information.

"Alright, Frankie," I muttered to myself, copying the decrypted message onto a clean file. "Just connecting people. That's all I'm doing."

I packaged the data into a neat little file, added a hefty markup to my initial quote, and sent it off via an encrypted channel. Within minutes, the agreed-upon sum, a few hundred cold, hard dollars, landed in my untraceable digital wallet. I saved the file to a new data chip and packaged it up. Another job done. Another night closer to sanity's breaking point.

"Just connecting people," I repeated, the phrase tasting like ash in my mouth. The lie tasted even worse. I knew what I was doing. I was enabling crime. I was greasing the wheels of Gotham's underbelly. But bills had to be paid. It was a convenient lie, a way to sleep at night knowing I was profiting from the chaos. But tonight, it felt particularly hollow. And honestly, did it really matter? Gotham was already drowning in darkness. What was one more drop?

Gotham was a broken city, a machine grinding down its inhabitants. The system was rigged, the rich got richer, and the poor fought over scraps. I wasn't exactly helping to fix things. But I wasn't making it worse, right? I was just a cog in the machine, a necessary evil. I was good at what I did, damn good. I could see patterns where others saw chaos. I could exploit vulnerabilities, both in code and in the systems of power that held Gotham hostage. It was a skill, a talent, and in this city, unique talents were currency. I was efficient and discreet. But every decrypted message, every bypassed firewall, chipped away at something inside me. It hollowed me out, leaving me a ghost in my own life, a wire connecting the darkness.

I leaned back in my creaky chair, the rain still pounding against the window. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and melancholy. Another night, another decryption, another small victory against the futility of existence in Gotham. The flicker of conscience, that annoying little spark that refused to be extinguished, flared again. Was I really making a difference? Or was I just another parasite feeding off the city's decay?

I closed my eyes, trying to silence the questions. Tomorrow, there would be another encryption to crack, another connection to make. And I would be ready, Ghostwire ready to disappear into the digital ether, another ghost in the machine, until the next signal came. As I waited for the morning, for the return of the fluorescent lights and the mundane reality of "Byte Me" IT Solutions, I wondered if one day, the darkness I trafficked in would finally claim me completely. Because in Gotham, survival was a code all its own, and I was fluent in its language. And frankly, some days, that didn't seem like such a bad deal. For now, that was enough.

[maleficient]

Hello 🩷

can I please have a Mob Boss Itachi, who get obsessed with the rivalling Clan‘s daughter (Reader). Said daughter left her Clan a few years ago to live a life outside and undercover of the Mob-world. He finds out about her and wants to make her his.

(You can make it slowburn or in different parts, your writing is chefs kiss 🩷)

💋 dark account; second post. be safe.

Modern au! ; Sick obsession ; Thoughts of kidnapping someone ; Possible age difference ; Disappearances of people ; Itachi being insanely jealous ; Dismemberment ; Itachi being typical Yandere ; Itachi is being delulu & a perv!

Part 2 with smut (soon!)

;;;

Itachi Uchiha had fallen in love with the daughter of the clan's rival. His obsession was perhaps noticeable to some, perhaps not.

That didn't matter anymore.

He didn't remember when exactly he saw her.

December?

Or was in October?

The only thing sure is that it was in a photograph while he was checking the remaining members of the pathetic rival clan.

Very few members; his rival had been greatly reduced. Pathetic, just pathetic.

And then that was when he saw her, and everything changed.

She was beautiful. She IS beautiful.

So beautiful that it made his breath catch in his throat.

Again, that didn't matter anymore.

When he found out that his rival's daughter rebelled and decided to leave the dark world of the mafia, he was shocked; however, that only made him even more obsessed with the woman.

Without her realizing it or knowing, he sent several of his subjects to take pictures of her.

He told himself over and over that it was for her well-being.

At least that's what he told himself so he wouldn't feel so bad about vandalizing his beloved's personal space.

Until the threats came.

Like flies, weak and pathetic men approached his beautiful woman to try to flirt with her.

He could see it—how they looked at her more than necessary while she waited on them, oblivious to their intentions.

Of course, his beautiful angel was innocent; she didn't know that those weak men looked at her in a way that was inappropriate for a lady like her.

How dare they?

Maybe it was his fault that the male clients of her work decreased, but... they deserved it.

So two long years passed in which he let his beautiful Angel build her new life, and meanwhile he quietly planned in secret how to take her and make her his.

The plan to kidnap her was on his mind for a while, but he quickly discarded it when he thought that the head of the rival clan was surely monitoring her and would get angry if Itachi did something so risky.

He wasn't that cruel either. He already traumatized her by sending her a hand from one of the men who decided to touch her in a box; he didn't want to corrupt his angel.

His fingers moved in desperation; if only she wasn't the daughter of that stupid man, he would already have her in his arms and jumping on his hard cock until she couldn't take it anymore, and he would fuck her without caring that she was already sensitive.

And Itachi wasn't an impulsive idiot. Of course not; he was a smart person. He wouldn't let his desires take control of him, though the temptation to give them free rein was deliciously tempting.

The Uchiha would take it slow.

He would let the woman fall in love with him at her own pace, and he would take on the role of a businessman in the meantime.

He would allow the woman to navigate the finely crafted lies he had created as a backstory. He would allow her to look at and appreciate the good part of him, just the kind and gentle part, permanently if he could.

He would play out all her fantasies of being rescued as long as she stayed by his side.

He would let the moth get close to the lit candle, and when he knew the beautiful woman wouldn't be able to turn back...

When his lid is blown.

— Oh, hello, how can I help you? —

When she discovers the lies. When the dark truth comes to light.

— I would like a latte — the Uchiha replied with a friendly and charming smile, making the beautiful woman blush. His beautiful Angel...

He wouldn't let her go.

[afewproblems]

Difficult Days - Part 8

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six , Part Seven or Read on AO3

“I told you so,” Gus says as Shawn straightens his shirt collar and fixes his hair in the precinct bathroom. 

Shawn sighs through his nose and turns on the tap to run the tips of his fingers under a short burst of water.

It's been two weeks since the incident with Lassie and Henry and it has not blown over.

If anything, Lassiter is…weird around him. 

Sure he's still surly and quick to yell and argue about their presence in the field and at the station, but every now and again Shawn catches the Detective staring at him.

And not some passing glance or vacant unassuming look, no.

This is the full-on, piercing, cop stare down, complete with a terminator scan and infrared analysis.

Needless to say, it's starting to freak him out.

Shawn has brought it up to Juliet and Gus separately, with Juliet's response being a single raised eyebrow and the question, “since when is Lassiter not monitoring you? I'm pretty sure he only just started trusting Buzz and he's been stationed here since before my transfer, Carlton can be a bit of an intense guy Shawn”.

And Gus's response--

“I told you so”. 

Shawn rolls his eyes and runs his wet fingers through his hair, twisting them up to ruffle the ends just right.

“You did not--”

“Uh no,” Gus speaks over him, “did I not say that Lassiter was pissed?”

Shawn looks at Gus through the reflection in the mirror, “Gus--”

“Did I not say that calling him a dog would end in him shooting you?” 

Gus raises a single challenging eyebrow as Shawn turns the tap on again to run his whole hand under the stream before flicking cold water at his friend.

“Shawn!” Gus yelps, darting out of the line of fire, “this is a new shirt!” 

“I don't think those were the words you used and come on, it's just a little staring right? It's only…a little weird, right?”

Gus raises his eyebrows and tilts his head, looking at Shawn through the mirror.

And yeah, okay, it might be a little more than just a little weird.

“Whatever,” Gus grumbles, "I do eventually have to get back to my real job so can you stop primping so we can talk to Vick?”

Shawn reaches out for the paper towel dispenser and grabs a sheet to dry his fingers before crumpling it up and raising his arm high above his head to throw the makeshift ball into the garbage can. Shawn groans as the tiny ball of slightly damp paper barely hits the rim before it tumbles to the tiled floor of the SBPD bathroom.

“Gus,” Shawn huffs as he reaches down to pick up the paper, “you know as well as I do that people are much more likely to give you what you want if you present yourself well and take pride in your appearance”.

“You literally have a queso stain on your shirt Shawn”. 

Tossing the paper directly into the trash, Shawn side steps the comment and Gus as he turns on his heel and makes his way to the doors.

Their caseload has slowed down to a crawl recently. Shawn blames the weather, scorching heat and enough humidity to make a seal sweat. All the potential clients, and criminals, are either holed up at home with AC or busy at the beach --not that Shawn wants crime to happen necessarily, but the lack of cases does present a problem when it comes to their financials, which Gus maintains he should pay more attention to.

Thus the visit to their favourite interim Chief, Vick.

Maybe there's a brand new case that they could assist with, or stowaway on long enough to earn a paycheck.

Either way works for Shawn.

Shawn rounds the corner of the next hallway --Jesus, the precinct is either way bigger than he remembers or they've actually managed to fall into the Labyrinth from Labyrinth. 

Not that Shawn would mind running into Bowie at this moment, especially in those pants. 

He halts suddenly as he sees, who fucking else, but Lassiter and Henry talking just outside of Sargent Bart's door.

Perfect.

Shawn takes a step back, closer to a display cabinet on the wall and quickly reaches for Gus to pull him back beside him.

“Why the hell is he here again?” Gus whispers.

“Because I'm cursed, because the universe hates me,” Shawn says under his breath as he peeks around the shelf again just in time to see Henry laugh at something Carlton says.

“See?” Shawn says, gesturing towards the pair, “hates me”.

Shawn frowns and closes his eyes, trying to visualize the emergency evacuation floor plan they were provided when Vick hired them, maybe there was a way to get around the pair without being seen…even with Vicks office being two doors down from where his father and Lassiter are standing.

Shit.

“We should have gone left instead of right, that would have been faster,” Shawn admits with a frown as he slumps back against the wall and out of sight.

“If someone hadn't insisted on messing with his hair for twenty minutes we wouldn't be in this situation,” Gus hisses, throwing his hand out to slap at Shawns shoulder, earning a muted yelp which Shawn tries to quell as best as he can.

Shawn retaliates with a slap of his own at Gus's arm and just as he ducks out of the way of another hit he hears Lassiter’s voice float down the hallway.��

“Spencer has been a menace since he started”.

“Shh! I hear my name,” Shawn hisses as he peers around the shelf again, he feels Gus move behind him to match the position. 

Henry is facing away from them but he can see his dad nod at the Detective. 

“He does some good work but he's got no respect for protocol or authority,” Lassie continues looking at Henry with a strange expression that Shawn can’t quite qualify.

“I don't know what the chief sees in that waste of space,” Lassiter huffs, the words are irritated and clipped but his sharp eyes are scanning Henry now. 

Evaluating, looking for something.

Henry stiffens at the words, and Shawn watches as his dad steps closer to Lassiter. He breathes out a low laugh that has the Detective’s eyes narrow as though he's caught something, but Shawn knows that laugh intimately and hears ‘Danger! Danger, Will Robinson!’ blare in his mind as his dad's posture changes. 

Henry leans in even closer, his voice quiet and cold, as he says, “you call my kid a waste of space again, Detective, I'll put you through the wall, are we clear?” 

Shawn lifts his right hand to stick his index finger in his ear, twisting it hard, because there was no way in hell he heard that right. 

Since when did Henry defend him to the other officers --especially his new best buddy Lassiter.

He looks at Gus whose raised eyebrows have cut harsh creases across his forehead in surprise, he shrugs as they both turn back to the strange scene down the hall.

Lassiter blinks once, his face triumphant for a brief instant before he schools his expression into one of shock. The Detective nods as he steps away from Henry's imposing shadow.

“Crystal, sir,” he says, adjusting his tie before nodding at Henry and making his way back to the bullpen. 

Shawn slowly slips back behind the shelf as though dazed, and lets his shoulders connect with the wall behind him.

Because, what in the hell was that?

“What in the hell was that??” Gus whispers as he falls beside Shawn, letting his shoulder roughly connect to the wall. 

Shawn shrugs as he stares unseeing at the floor, “weird, bizarre, peculiar, flummoxing, yeah, that’s it, it’s flummoxing”.

He looks back up in time to see Gus raises a single, exasperated, eyebrow.

“Jules got me a word of the month calendar last week”.

Gus rolls his eyes, but a small smile pulls at the corner of his mouth as he taps Shawn with his elbow, “I'm just surprised you used it correctly”.

Shawn grins, motioning for Gus to head back up the hall the way they came, “it’s always the people who love us who end up hurting us the most,” he sniffs with a false wobble to his voice that has Gus shooting another glare his way.

“You know that’s right, keep it up man”.

Shawn snickers as they make it back to the washroom entrance so they can reorient themselves in a more vacant part of the station, Gus says something about hitting the head while they’re there but Shawn is barely listening. 

Henry's behavior in the hall was flummoxing, that goes without saying.

But Shawn couldn't stop thinking about the strange triumphant expression on Lassiter’s face when Henry tore a verbal strip off him. 

Something was going on with the Detective, and Shawn didn't need a vocabulary calendar to know it was weird with a capital, W. 

Maybe they found themselves a case after all?

***

Shawn should have gone home after his date left, although to call her a date would be entirely inaccurate considering her recent engagement, barring a slight misunderstanding.

Shawn smiles indulgently as the petite brunette immediately snaps the flip phone open, a radiant expression of relief on her face, and speed dials her brand new fiance, mouthing ‘thank you’ at Shawn before disappearing into the crowd of Tom Blair's pub.

It wasn't often that Shawn got to use his observations like this and it always managed to make the tightness of overwhelm in his chest loosen after a long day.

He breathes out a long slow sigh and lifts his gaze to the crowd around him now.

Sometimes people watching would yield something interesting, a breakup, a meet up with a mistress, a promotion --though those were more rare for a neighborhood pub like this. 

He tilts his face to the bar and it's then that Shawn's gaze lands on a familiar face sitting at a table in the far corner.

Detective Lassiter, drinking alone. 

His blue eyes fixed at a far point in the middle distance as he lifts a glass of dark amber liquid to his lips. His shirt is undone by two buttons revealing a swath of chest hair that his loosened tie rests on. 

Holy shit. Lassie looks…good.

If Shawn were being honest with himself, Lassiter has always looked good --if a bit stuffy sometimes. He blames those damn eyes and Lassie's surprisingly strong build. Shawn had been manhandled enough by the Detective to know just how strong he is.

“Spencer?”

Oh holy hell.

The Detective is waving at him, his long, lanky arms curving in a large arc above his head --thankfully not the one holding the glass.

“Spencer! I didn't know you were here!” Lassiter says, his voice carries clear across the pub, causing several other patrons to turn and look at them. 

Lassiter stands up, somewhat wobbly from his table, drink in hand, and makes his way over to Shawn.

Just what in the Bizzaro wonderland has Shawn managed to stumble into that Lassiter is coming his way and sitting down?

“You’re here!” Lassie says loudly, turning a few heads as he sits down heavily in the seat beside Shawn. He’s not exactly smiling but the lack of his signature scowl is just as strange, especially directed at Shawn.

“I am,” Shawn hums as Lassiter takes another sip that is more of a gulp of liquor. The acrid smell of scotch floats over the air between them making Shawn lean away, or try to anyway. 

But a heavy arm makes its way around his shoulders, suddenly pulling Shawn into Lassie’s side. From this close Shawn can smell the spicy aftershave Carlton only sports on special occasions, what might have prompted it Shawn has no idea for once.

“Listen, since you’re here, there's something I have to get off my chest,” Lassiters's voice is clear even over the din of the bar crowd, Shawn would have expected a slur given the nearly empty glass in the man's hand and the overwhelming smell of scotch on his breath.

“Please say it's not your shirt,” Shawn huffs, trying not to picture exactly that as Lassiter snorts into his glass. He hopes the Detective is distracted enough by the alcohol and the lack of lighting in the pub to notice the way Shawn's ears heat at the image, he's sure they must be a bright crimson by now.

Maybe Lassie will finally explain his weird staring the past month, or maybe the Henry incident, as he and Gus had taken to referring to the very flummoxing Detective showdown in the hallway outside of Sargent Bart’s office.

Lassiter shakes his head, his blue eyes wide as he removes his arm from Shawn’s shoulders and turns in his seat to face him fully. 

“You astound me”. 

And that's definitely not what Shawn expected when Lassie came over to his table at the crowded neighborhood pub.

Shawn had been surprised to even see Lassiter at a bar on a weeknight, and even more surprised to see him clearly drinking so heavily.

“I--come again?” Shawn pulls on his earlobe roughly because there was no way--

“It’s beyond astounding.” Lassiter says as he reaches over and places a warm hand on Shawn's elbow and squeezes lightly, "it is some of the most impressive reasoning I’ve ever seen.”

Shawn breathes out a startled laugh, “is there a punchline to this?”

“I don’t know how you do it. I mean it’s not psychic-ness –we both know that’s a crock of crap. You sir, are unstoppable. Guaranteed arrests.”

Shawn opens his mouth to speak but Lassiter keeps going, “can I tell you something else?”

“I really wouldn’t recommend it, no”.

“You know how everyone thinks my wife and I have been separated for nine months?”

Oh.

Oh boy.

“Look, Lassie,” Shawn says lowly, he really shouldn't be listening to this.

As much as Lassiter has been grating on his nerves the last few weeks with his rigid, by-the-book bullshit, and his irritating friendship with Henry, it doesn't feel right to stand by while the alcohol makes this straight-laced handsome weirdo spill what is clearly not meant for Shawn’s ears.

“Two years. Two years tonight,” Lassiter continues as though Shawn said nothing, he takes a long draught of scotch and sets the now empty glass down on the hightop with more force than necessary.

“And I’m the one who keeps trying to fix the damn thing”.

Lassiter wipes a large hand down his face roughly and laughs, “you know I used to be a good cop”.

He doesn’t wait for Shawn to respond, “seriously, stunning arrest record,” Lassie punctuates the words with a sweeping gesture of the hand, “one of the best in the department --you know I caught the Back Bay Killer, there was a tip--”.

“I remember that,” Shawn nods as he shifts in his seat, “the blue sedan”. 

Shawns eyes widen at the same time as Lassiter’s. 

Shit.

He hadn't meant to let that slip, especially not in front of a very drunk and quite possibly armed Detective.

“That, was you?” Lassiter says slowly, he pulls away slightly but keeps his hand on Shawn's elbow.

Shawn feels his heart rate tick up at the proximity and the way those blue eyes have begun to scan him just as they have the whole last month.

“It, uh, it might have been--”

“You know what,” Lassiter interrupts him, pulling out his handcuffs from his back pocket, he slides them across the hightop. The silver metal glints the low light bouncing their sheen on Lassiters face as they move, “you should have these Spencer, you'd actually make better use of them”.

Shawn stares at the cuffs, making no move to take them from the table. 

“Lassie--”

But Lassiter continues as though Shawn hasn't spoken, “I have officially hit rock bottom. A month ago I got this case, right? A healthy 42-year-old astronomer dies. Doesn’t drink, doesn’t smoke, spends all day in an ergonomically-designed chair charting the night sky,” Lassiter huffs, his face scrunched into a frown, counting on his fingers as he lists the facts of the case.

Which, okay even Shawn is intrigued now. 

A waitress comes by their table but Shawn waves her off with a tight smile, the last thing they need is more alcohol at this table. She nods at him with a wide grin that drops into an irritated grimace as she turns on her heel to another table that would definitely yield a larger bill to tip on. 

“‘Natural causes’, that’s what the coroner comes back with,” the Detective scoffs, tossing his hand out to connect lightly with Shawn's shoulder before it wraps around his shoulders again and tugs him close.

“Does a full autopsy, no red flags, nothing.”

Carlton sighs, his head drops to hang low enough that his hair brushes the tabletop before he brings his eyes back up to look at Shawn with the most dejected expression he's ever seen on another man's face.

“I know he was murdered, I just can’t…”

Shawn waits for a beat as Lassiters gaze slips into something unfocused. He reaches out to tap the other man's hand lightly, bringing his blue eyes back to Shawn, “can’t what, Lassie?”

“I can’t prove it, Chief doesn’t want us to waste more time on something this ‘open-and-shut’,” Lassiter grumbles, letting go of Shawn to raise both hands to make air quotes before letting them fall to his lap.

And maybe this is the reason for the constant staring at work, has it really been jealousy this whole time?

“Should just retire, fold up shop, it's not like I have anyone that would notice,” Lassiter mumbles under his breath, and nope. Nope. 

That is just unacceptable. 

“Come on Lassiepants, you’ll figure it out just like you always do. People have your back,” Shawn taps the Detectives hand again, firmly this time, glaring as Carlton scoffs again at the words.

“Like who?”

“Well, Jules, and Chief Vick, and Gus, and me--”

“You?”

Shawn clears his throat, ducking his face to hide the way he can feel his ears begin to heat, “uh yeah, we have your back Lassifrass”.

Carlton hums, his eyes closing briefly for a moment before he looks at Shawn again, “you ever take your own advice Spencer?”

Shawn bristles slightly, annoyed for the first time since Lassiter made his way over to the table. 

“Look, this isn’t about me, you're a striking man with strong features, eyes that I--that people--that women,” Shawn swallows harshly, ignoring the way Lassiter’s eyes trace over his rapidly heating face, “women wanna do cannonballs into, you have great posture and uh, penmanship the likes I've never seen”.

It’s like verbal vomit, it just keeps coming and Shawn can’t seem to stop it, “you're honestly a catch Lassie, don't be so hard on yourself”.

Lassiter stares at him frozen as Shawn bites his tongue, swallowing nervously. Him and his big dumb mouth. 

“I'm a catch”.

Shawn nods, looking anywhere but at the Detective and his bright gaze, “uh, yeah, yeah Lassie, you are”.

Lassiter continues to stare at Shawn for what feels like an eternity. His blue eyes almost seem to glow in the darkness of the pub and Shawn is so, so, aware of how close they're sitting now.

He watches transfixed as Lassiter lifts his hand from his lap to reach up and trace a soft knuckle across Shawns cheekbone then down to his chin, slightly tipping Shawn’s face up.

Shawn feels himself stop breathing.

What. The fuck. Is happening??

Klaxons blare in his mind once again as a chorus of , ‘DANGER, DANGER WILL ROBINSON’, repeats over and over.

Lassiter’s drunk, that's what's happening here, Shawn thinks as his brain starts to come back online, there is no way that the Detective is making a pass at him.

“A catch,” Lassiter repeats, the words rumble in his chest. He smirks slightly, his blue eyes crease at the corners as he tips his face away to mutter something under his breath about catching someone. 

Right, Shawn thinks to himself in what he hopes is relief rather than disappointment, the murdered astronomer. 

Shawn shakes himself and leans back in his seat, out of Lassiters's immediate orbit.

“You should go home Lassie, sleep this off so you can catch the guy like I know you can,” Shawn says, rapping his knuckles against the bar table for emphasis.

Shawn pushes himself off the stool and shrugs on his bomber jacket with shaking hands, startling at the sudden clatter behind him. He turns just in time to see Carlton stumble and sit gracelessly on the sticky pub floor.

“Jesus Lassiter,” Shawn huffs out as he wanders over, assessing the potential damage as he moves. 

“Falling already,” Carlton says, his slurred words taking on a dreamy quality that Shawn has never heard the man use before. 

“Yup, that's what happens when you drink half the bar man,” Shawn mutters to himself as he grabs Lassiters hand and hoists him to his feet once more. 

Thankfully the Detective isn't so out of it that he can't stand on his own two feet --though Shawn finds it terribly unfair how Carlton leans his face down into Shawns neck as he drapes his long lanky arm across Shawn’s shoulder once again.

The feeling of Lassiters warm breath on his ear is also so distracting that Shawn almost walks them into a pillar as they make their way to the entrance.

By the time they actually get to the front doors, and Shawn has flagged down a cab, Lassiter seems to be vacillating between sleepy petulance at being forced to leave the bar and something resembling contentment as he leans against Shawn heavily.

“Okay Lassie, let's get you home--”

“I'm not that easy Spencer,” Lassiter grumbles and Shawn nearly combusts, his face and neck heating again at the thought. At least the Detective isn't paying attention to him, instead turning his concentration towards buckling his seatbelt. 

The cab ride is uneventful but just long enough for Shawn to struggle to keep Lassiter from falling dead asleep; he resorts to flicking his seatmate in the ear, smiling at the irritated snuffle Lassie makes every time he does. Luckily the Detective also has enough cash in his wallet for the cab fare. Shawn refuses to feel bad about using it, it's not like Lassie's paying Shawn's way home too, he'll just walk back to the Psych office to crash there. 

It's fine, Shawn thinks; trying his best to ignore the feeling of phantom hands on his face or warm breath on his neck as he makes the trek down the boardwalk. Besides, if Lassiter was drunk enough to look at Shawn like that…

No. 

No way, it’s just jealousy, that’s the reason for the staring and for the strange confession this evening. That’s all. 

On the plus side, he’s solved the case of ‘what’s been eating Lassiter’ without any additional effort or the need to be held up at gunpoint this time. 

But, on the down side, it’s yet another case he’s made no money on for Psych. 

Shawn wipes both hands down his face before wrapping his arms around himself as he continues down the well lit path home. 

At least Lassiter was drunk enough that he won’t possibly remember tonight. 

Not at all.

And that’s fine. Totally fine.

***

“You should have seen him, Gus, he tried to give me his handcuffs for crying out loud”.

Gus rolls his eyes and flips the page of the magazine in his hands, pretending not to follow Shawn’s path as he paces across the Psych office. 

It's been three hours since their debrief at the station and over 14 hours since Shawn had managed to drag a nearly unconscious Lassiter home from the bar the previous night. 

Shawn is restless and Gus just doesn't quite understand. If he'd been there it would be so much easier to explain, plus Gus could have helped carry the Irish lug to his front door rather than Shawn offering their cab driver a huge tip to help him half drag, half carry the giant Detective.

“And?” Gus huffs, closing the magazine and tossing it onto the desk in front of him, “I would think that Lassie quitting the force would make things way easier for us Shawn, no more having to fight for cases or getting kicked off crime scenes”.

Shawn makes his way to the mini fridge in the corner, one of the few purchases he had insisted on that Gus actually agreed with when they first opened the place. He opens the door and snags a snapple from the shelf.

“I think we should help, it just feels weird for Lassie to be so down and out, like watching baby Darth Vader call Natalie Portman an angel, it's pathetic in an endearing sort of way”. 

Gus stares at Shawn with narrowed eyes now and sits up in his desk chair, “endearing? Lassiter?”

Shawn cracks the cap of his drink and pauses to read the ‘Real Fact’ printed on the inside.

On average, a human being will spend 2 weeks of their lives kissing, in their lifetime.

He frowns at the bottle cap in his hand, wondering just how ‘Real’ these facts actually are, or if they’re the product of a bored intern at Snapple. 

“Lassie’s all bark and no, we'll that's not right, but that's actually what I mean, he can't be no bark and no bite, that's just craziness in action Gus--”

“Oh my god,” Gus says slowly as he straightens in his seat, “you like him”.

Shawn rears back as though slapped, his mouth opening and closing several times before he manages to say, in a strangled voice, “no--thats--why would you--”

“Because you like people that don't like you Shawn, you always do this, you pick assholes”.

Well that's not fair.

“Gus--”

Gus waves his hands in front of him and stands abruptly from the desk chair which rolls backwards, stopping as it connects with the edge of the rug, “no Shawn, he's threatened to shoot us how many times? He's put his hands on you!”

Shawn tries for a swarthy grin at Gus, “don't knock it till you try it--”

“No! Nope,” Gus cuts him off sharply, “don't try to change the subject or throw me off with,” he shakes his hands again at Shawn, “the thought of naked Lassiter”.

He visibly shudders while Shawn feels the tips of his ears begin to heat, as he feels the phantom warmth of Lassiter's arm around his shoulder from the night before.

Gus sighs, pinching his fingers into his eyes briefly before pinning Shawn with a look “I just don't want you to get hurt again Shawn”.

Shawn thinks of the way Lassiter looked at him that night and the way his knuckle felt against his face and the hand on his elbow, firm in its grip but still gentle and warm from the alcohol coursing through his system. He side steps the thought of how much the lack of recognition in Lassie's blue eyes had hurt that morning during the briefing.

“I might not know exactly what I’m doing Gus, but I think it'll be okay”. 

“Now let's go, I hear the planetarium is playing Laser Floyd, may as well grab two birds before the bush kills them”.

Gus looks at him with wide eyes and a bewildered expression that slowly shifts to something very pained, “I think you just butchered two very well known idioms Shawn”.

“I've heard it both ways, now come on!” 

“You're so full of shit dude,” Gus grumbles behind him as he locks the front door to the office, earning a bright bark of laughter from Shawn as they make their way to the Blueberry.

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