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hotchnisslovechild · 3 years ago

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Hotel, Motel, Holiday Inn

Rating: E Fandom: Big Shot Pairing: Marvyn Korn/Holly Barrett Word Count: 7900 Tags: 18+, Explicit Sexual Content, Only One Bed, Sharing a Bed, PWP, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Dirty Talk, Post S1 Summary: Away at a team camp, Holly and Marvyn have to share a hotel room.

AO3 Link or read below!

It was a 2-hour bus ride to Westmont College. Well, for Holly and the girls that is. Marvyn decided to drive to the team camp separately. He loved being with the girls and Holly, but 2 hours on a small bus all together? He would much rather enjoy some “Marvyn Time” and drive by himself. It worked out well that way actually; Holly and Marvyn needed their own car to drive to and from campus back to their hotel nearby. The girls were staying on campus, all paired up in dorms. Staying in dorm rooms was a hard pass for Holly and Marvyn, mostly Marvyn. Holly wouldn’t have minded staying in a room on campus but given the choice between sleeping on a hotel-quality, queen-sized mattress or a dorm-quality, twin-sized mattress, she’d pick hotel every time. Marvyn just flat out refused to sleep in a dorm. He loves hotels. Hell, he tried to live in one until his daughter moved in with him. People change his sheets and make the bed for him. There’s complimentary breakfast. What’s not to love about hotels?

Holly could not wait to get off the bus after those 2 hours. One thing about teenage girls is that they love to gossip. Holly witnesses it every day at school, but none of it really ever pertains to her. These girls usually just chat about boys and other girls, but Holly’s ears always perk up when she occasionally overhears the girls talking about their teachers to one another. It’s fun to hear what they think about her colleagues, but sometimes she fears she’s the subject of gossip amongst these girls when they are anywhere else in the school that isn’t Holly’s classroom.

That fear came true on that bus ride when she overheard the girls whispering at the back of the bus. The subject of those hushed words? Holly and Marvyn. It was a big bus, but not big enough. From the front of the bus, Holly could hear just about every word those girls whispered back and forth to one another in the back.

“Emma told me they go out for drinks and dinner all the time,” Destiny murmured to all of the girls leaning into the bus walkway.

“But isn’t she like his only friend?” Louise joked, getting some giggles from the other girls.

“I’m thinking they are a little more than just friends, if you know what I mean,” Samantha mumbled.

Mouse smacked her knee from the seat across from her. “Sam!” she gasped.

“What?” Samantha asked, “You don’t think those two could be hooking up?”

“I’d prefer not to think about that,” Mouse answered, hating the idea of her coaches doing it with each other.

“Guys, what if they are in the same hotel room for this camp?” Olive suggested, feeding into Samantha’s theory. “Maybe that’s why they didn’t want to stay in the dorms.”

Destiny let out a loud gasp at Olive’s suggestion and proceeded to be slapped and shushed by Louise for being too loud. They would all be dead if Holly could hear their conversation.

They had no clue that Holly could actually hear everything they were saying. And she was mortified. Her and Marvyn? What was it with these girls and starting rumors about who’s she’s dating? First, it was Felix, now it’s Marvyn. Sure, she goes out for drinks and dinner with Marvyn a lot. So what? Friends can go out for fun. Not only are they friends… they are colleagues. It’s always been strictly platonic and professional between them, and Holly plans on keeping it that way.

When they finally arrived at Westmont around 9PM, she helped the girls find their dorms and settle in while she waited for Marvyn to get there. Once he got there, Holly said goodnight to the girls and told them they need to get up for the scheduled team breakfast at 8AM in the main campus dining hall.

Marvyn didn’t even bother getting out of his car to say “hi” to the girls once he got there. He texted Holly telling her to walk out to his car, and to hurry up so they could get settled at the hotel.

Holly didn’t say a word during the 10 minutes it took to get to the hotel. Her face was still hot from overhearing the girls suggest that she and Marvyn were a thing. She could feel Marvyn’s curious gaze on her in the car, but she avoided his glances by staring out the window, thinking about a certain thing the girls unknowingly put into her head. Her stomach tightened as the thought of sleeping with Marvyn consumed her mind for the duration of the drive.

Holly started to second guess everything Marvyn did for her. When they got to the hotel, Marvyn rushed to open the door for Holly and get her suitcase out of the back seat. Is that what friends do? Is he just being nice? Holly asked herself, feeling like she was going a bit mad.

Walking up to the front desk, Marvyn greeted the receptionist. “Hi, I have two rooms booked under Korn.”

Holly watched as the woman behind the front desk punched keys on her keyboard. The receptionist started typing faster than before, almost frantic. Holly had no idea it was that hard to find a room reservation.

“Hmm,” the woman started, “I don’t see a reservation under that name. Could it be under a different name, perhaps?”

“Are you sure? Did you spell it right? It’s K-o-r-n. Korn,” Marvyn said, growing impatient. He just wanted to go to sleep. They had a busy few days coming up with the camp, and he needed to be well-rested if he was going to beat all of the other Southern California basketball teams at the camp.

“I’m afraid I don’t see a reservation for you, Mr. Korn.”

“Marvyn, don’t you have the confirmation in your email? You can pull that up on your phone,” Holly suggested, hating that they were causing the receptionist any trouble.

Marvyn pulled up the email confirmation on his phone and held it up to the clerk. “Here’s our confirmation number and reservation details. We have two queen-sized rooms. Three nights.”

The woman pulled the phone toward her, taking a closer look at the email. “Sir, I think there has been a mistake.”

“How could there be a mistake? The confirmation and details are right there,” he snapped, pointing at his phone. Holly elbowed him for snapping at the poor young woman.

“These reservations are for the Holiday Inn Express in Ventura. You’re at the Holiday Inn Express in Santa Barbara.

Holly looked at Marvyn in disbelief. Ventura was almost a half-hour away. She didn’t want to have to drive all the way there and have to commute 30 minutes to and from Westmont for 4 days.

“Well shit,” Marvyn muttered under his breath. This is why he doesn’t stay at anything less than 5-star hotels. This never would have happened if Holly just let him book two rooms at the Hotel Californian. But no, they were “too expensive and luxurious” for only staying 3 nights and spending most of their time at Westmont.

“Do you have two rooms available here?” Marvyn finally asked the woman.

“We’re pretty booked up. I’ll have to check what rooms we have available for 3 nights.”

“You better have some rooms because—”

Holly elbowed him again, sending him a glare that could kill. She turned to the clerk. “Thank you,” she said sincerely, “We’re sorry to cause so much trouble.”

“Oh, you are no trouble at all. It happens more often than you would think, “ the receptionist said as she typed away on her keyboard. Her face sunk. “I’m sorry but all we have available for three nights is one room. It should have two queen beds, but I’ll have to double check—”

“We’ll take it,” Marvyn interjected. He didn’t want to be standing in that lobby any longer. And he certainly did not want to drive all the way to Ventura.

“Marvyn,” Holly turned to him concerned, “We can’t share a room.”

“Well, you can find a ride to Ventura because I’m sure as hell not driving all the way over there.”

This was exactly what she didn’t need right now. She could hardly look Marvyn in the eye after hearing the girls speculate about them being in a relationship. How could she share a room with him? Everything about this was just mortifying.

She sighed. “Fine. I guess it’s not that big a deal” She took one of the keys the woman set out in front of them.

Holly’s jaw dropped to the floor when Marvyn opened the door for her to walk into the room. She could not believe what she was seeing. Was there seriously only one goddamn bed? Just when she thought this couldn’t get any worse.

“Now you have to be fucking kidding me,” Marvyn said when he finally walked through the doorway, carrying both of their suitcases. “I thought she said it would be two queens.”

“Well, you did cut her off and take the room before she could double check,” Holly retorted, clearly annoyed. She walked further into the room, setting her purse down on the polka dot armchair. The room was fairly big and had a great view of Santa Barbara.

Marvyn followed her into the room, still dragging their luggage along. Holly could still hardly look at him, so she busied herself with looking around the room.

“Did you want the bathroom first?” Marvyn asked coolly, breaking the awkward silence that settled in the room.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind. I need to wash up after sitting on that old bus for 2 hours. I’ll be quick,” Holly said as she opened up her suitcase to grab her pajamas and toiletry bag. She practically ran to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

She set her bag and pajamas down on the counter and took a deep breath. How does he seem so unfazed by the giant bed-shaped elephant in the room? Holly thought as she stared at herself in the mirror. The fact that the receptionist “gave him the wrong information” seemed to affect him more than the fact that they were sharing a room and possibly sharing a bed. That is, if he doesn’t do the gentlemanly thing and offer to sleep on the floor or the chair. She sure as hell wasn’t sleeping anywhere besides that bed.

Holly was prepared to be in the comfort of her own room, so all she packed for nighttime attire was a pair of skimpy blue sleep shorts and a tank top. That would have been fine had things gone as planned and she had a room to herself, but Marvyn was going to be seeing a lot of leg, a lot more than would be considered appropriate. She shoved the thought out of her mind and got changed.

After she finished up washing her face and brushing her teeth, she knocked on the door. “Are you decent?” she called out from the bathroom.

“Yeah, you’re good to come out,” Marvyn responded. Holly took a deep, sobering breath as her hand hovered over the doorknob. She wished she could tell herself it’s just one night, but it’s three nights. He’ll take the chair or the floor, I’m sure, Holly tried to reassure herself.

When she finally mustered the courage to walk out into the main room, she’s stopped dead in her tracks upon seeing Marvyn. It took everything in her not to stare at him perched on the edge of the bed dressed in green boxers and a plain white undershirt that hugged his torso. She averted her gaze and quickly crossed her arms in front of her as she walked to her suitcase, a failed attempt to hide her hardening nipples. She wished she could blame it on the cold air in the room, but it’s really just from seeing Marvyn so… undressed. She hated the girls for putting the idea of them together in her mind. Yes, he’s a very attractive man, but she’s never thought about him in any sexual way. Now, it was nearly all she could think about, thanks to the girls. She was in deep shit.

And Marvyn was completely fucked. He hoped she didn’t notice him practically gawking at her when she came out of the bathroom, his eyes caught on the sight of her hardening nipples through her thin tank top. And those shorts. They were sinful is what they were. She was showing off more leg than he could handle. He was used to Holly wearing tight athletic clothing at practices and games. He knew she had a great body. But seeing her so bare made his mind run wild. He watched as she bent forward to put her clothes back into her suitcase. Her shorts were so damn small he could just barely see the black lace panties she was wearing underneath. He tore his eyes away. What the fuck is the matter with me? He scolded himself, thoroughly disturbed by his sudden sexual urges for his friend – his colleague. Now half hard, he finally excused himself to the bathroom.

I’m a man. I can’t help it, he repeated to himself over and over as he stared at his reflection. He couldn’t go back out there like that. The best he could do was will his erection away. There was no way he could discretely “take care” of it with Holly just several feet away.

He brushed his teeth and splashed his face with cold water, trying to distract himself from images of Holly’s legs and the swell of her breasts. As much as he wanted to sleep on that damn bed, getting in bed with her was no longer an option. He would have to offer to sleep on the chair or the floor.

Still half hard, he sucked in a breath before exiting the bathroom. He saw her sitting up on the right side of the bed reading a book. “I’ll sleep on the chair,” he announced.

“Are you sure?” Holly said out of courtesy.

“It’s either that or the floor. Which do you think I should choose?”

“Whatever will hurt your back less, old man,” Holly joked, the banter coming back to them both easily, temporarily distracting them from the sexual tension that’s built between them in just one night.

“Don’t make me share that bed with you,” he said with a cocky smirk.

“Sleep on the chair. Maybe you will snore less sitting up.”

“I don’t snore,” he countered, slightly offended by her assumption.

“Yeah right. Just sleep on the chair. Keep the snoring to a minimum.” She went back to reading her book. She silently cheered that he offered to let her have the bed to herself. After her inappropriate thoughts about him that night, she wasn’t sure she would be able to keep her hands to herself if he hopped into bed with her.

He grabbed a pillow from the bed and tried to make himself comfortable in the big polka dot chair. “Am I good to turn off the lamp?” Holly asked once it seemed Marvyn got in a comfortable position.

“Yeah,” she heard him grunt as he shifted once more.

Close to 30 minutes went by of more shifting and grunting from the chair on the other side of the room. There was no falling asleep with how noisy he was being. She couldn’t tell if he was genuinely uncomfortable or if he was trying to get her to pity him and offer to switch places or let him sleep in the bed with her. “You good over there?” she whispered into the darkness of the room.

“Just fine,” he responded, feigning sincerity. It was probably the most uncomfortable chair he had ever sat in. It was lumpy and stiff, making noise with every move he made. Not to mention, his cock was still hard, his mind ridden with inappropriate and unprofessional thoughts of Holly

Holly hated what she was about to say next, knew she was probably going to regret it, want to take it back. But she really needed some good sleep tonight, so she went for it. “Just come sleep in the bed, Marvyn. You are driving me nuts with all your moving around.”

“You’re just trying to get in bed with me, aren’t you?” he teased, knowing that would push her buttons.

“Shut up, Marvyn. We’re both adults. We can share a bed without it being weird. Unless you would rather sleep on the floor?”

He didn’t even respond. He got up from the chair, holding his already sore back. God, am I really an old man? He said to himself silently, thinking about Holly’s joke from earlier.

“Just don’t hog the covers,” Holly said as she turned her back to him. She felt the mattress dip beside her, and a twinge of panic rose within her, her heart started to race. She hadn’t shared a bed with a man in a very long time. And it’s been even longer since she’s gotten laid. She shook the thought out of her head. She was absolutely not getting laid tonight. She was in a bed with Marvyn for Christ’s sake. He’s both a friend and a colleague. They couldn’t afford to ruin that. And did she really want to fuck the same man that Ms. Goodwin has? God, no.

Marvyn was wide awake. The twitch of his cock in his boxers was starting to get somewhat painful. He really shouldn’t be this goddamn horny; it had only been a couple months since he and Maggie were having sex. Granted, they only did so a few times. It took a lot longer than he expected to get past 2nd base with her. Something about “wanting to take it slow” and “doing it right”. Oh, he wanted to do it all right. Maggie was the first woman he’d been with since his ex-wife, and making the bald man cry each night wasn’t as satisfying as he hoped it would be. He wished he could fist himself right then and there, desperate to get rid of his uncomfortable and awkward hard on.

Holly also lay there wide awake, the silence too loud to even think about falling asleep. Desperate to get rid of the suffocating silence, she spoke, “This is so cliché, isn’t it?”

“What is?” Marvyn asked, genuinely unsure of what she was talking about.

“The whole two co-workers forced to share a bed thing. I thought this type of shit just happened in books to get the two main characters together,” she said matter-of-factly, not realizing until after she finished her sentence just how suggestive it was.

“Don’t get any ideas, Coach Barrett,”

“Oh, please. As if. Goodnight Marvyn.”

“Night,” she heard him whisper. Finally feeling relaxed, she dozed off to sleep to the sound of his breathing.

Marvyn woke just a few hours later, feeling pressure on his thigh. Dazed and confused, he looked up at the alarm clock next to his head, a green-lit 3:00 AM staring back at him. He turned back to see what was pressed up against his thigh. Lo and behold, Holly had thrown her leg over his thigh while they were sleeping. Pft, “as if” Marvyn silently mocked her words from earlier. His arm was trapped under her waist, ghosting over the swell of her ass. He instantly regretted lifting his other hand up to rest on her thigh, as he almost instantly got hard again.

They were hardly under the covers anymore, having kicked them off in their sleep. In the dimmed light coming from the streetlights outside, Marvyn could watch Holly as she slept. She really was a beautiful woman. He was surprised she hadn’t found anybody after her divorce. Any man would be lucky to have her. Not only was she incredibly good-humored and down-to-earth, but she also was just fucking sexy. He’d never really looked at her that way before that night, but it was hard not to when her breasts were practically falling out of her tank top and her shorts left next to nothing to the imagination.

He was abruptly shaken from his thoughts when he started to feel movement beside him. Not just any movement. No. The beautiful blonde woman beside him had started to rock her hips into his thigh. This can’t be happening. She has to be dreaming. I have to be dreaming right now Marvyn thought in a panic.

Her movements against the bare skin of his thigh grew faster, and she let out a soft moan, almost too quiet to hear. He started to feel how wet she was through her shorts. Marvyn’s heart was about to beat out of his chest, as he felt his cock twitch for what seemed like the millionth time that night, just aching to be touched. He had no clue what to do. Was he supposed to wake her up? Let her unconsciously get off on his thigh? There was no right way to go about it.

Holly slowly slipped into consciousness. She assumed the dream she was having must have been great based on how wet she was, slowly rocking against the thigh pressed firmly between her legs. It felt too good to stop. She tilted her hips back, seeking more friction against her clit. She sighed at the sensation. She became aware of the hands splayed on her lower back and on her thigh. The hardness pressed against her inner thigh then caught her attention.

Holy fuck! She thought frantically, suddenly remembering she went to sleep next to Marvyn last night. Before the panic set in, she felt the hand on her back move lower, resting firmly on her ass, which was only half covered by her sleep shorts. She nearly gasped when the hips underneath her began to rock into her thigh. She pressed her forehead against his shoulder as she continues her movements.

They both knew the other was awake, but they didn’t say a word, and they didn’t stop; they just kept grinding, getting each other off. Marvyn squeezed the swell of her ass through her shorts, his hand strong and firm against the silky fabric of her shorts and her soft skin. His fingers moved towards the edge of her shorts, daring to go further. She began rocking into him a bit harder, which he took as permission to go further, letting his fingers slip beneath the fabric of her shorts and run across the smoothness of her skin. His thumb brushed the lacy fabric of the black thong he got a sneak peek of earlier. He slid his other hand up her thigh to palm her other cheek, starting to guide her movements into him.

They stayed like that, grinding into one another for a good few minutes until Marvyn grew impatient, he had to touch her, feel her. He slowly moved his hand down her thigh, stopping at her knee which rested on his waist. Lifting her knee off of him, he encouraged her to spread her legs for him. Sliding his hand down her inner thigh, he turned his head to whisper in her ear. “Is this okay?” he asked, not wanting to push.

“Fuck, yes. Please,” she begged with a whisper. Just fucking touch me already! she wanted to yell at him.

He slid his hand past the waistband of her shorts, lifting up her tank top to rub the taut skin across her stomach, finally resting his hand on her breast, thumbing her rock-hard nipple. He was driving her insane. She lifted her hips, a silent beg for him to touch her where she needed it most. He took the hint, trailing his hand back down her stomach, tight and coiled with anticipation. His movements became hesitant, worried about taking things too far, ruining their relationship as they knew it.

She felt his hand stop just above the waistband of her shorts. She wondered if he was unsure about touching her or just being a tease. Hoping it was the latter, she lifted her head up to whisper in his ear, “Don’t be such a tease.”

“Are you sure about his?” he asked innocently.

Hearing the nerves in his voice, she reached her hand up to rest on his, squeezing his hand to assure him how much she wanted this, how much she needed this. She guided his hand below her waistband. His hand ghosted her core through the fabric of her panties. She slid her hand up his arm to feel his biceps. He had great arms. She ached to see if his chest was just as toned and firm as his arms.

He could feel the heat of her through the thin lace fabric covering her core. Judging by how wet she was already, Holly clearly wanted this just as much as he did. The soft sighs in his ear egging him on. A rush of confidence coursed through him, realizing just how much of an effect he had on her by barely touching her. Hell, she was gasping and grinding on him in her sleep. Which could easily be from having not gotten laid in a while, but Marvyn would rather think it was because of him entirely.

He always prided himself on being particularly good at sex. He got a lot of practice in college; girls practically threw themselves at him. And he and Caren had a pretty fun and adventurous sex life for most of their marriage. He knew his way around a woman’s body: how it worked, how it reacted, how to manipulate it. And in that moment with Holly, he wanted to cherish every inch of her body, to pay attention to each subtle detail of her enjoyment…for hours.

It surprised him. This sudden sexual desire for his colleague – his assistant coach, technically his subordinate. They did do everything couples do, besides sex of course (until now). They went out to dinner, got drinks together. They trusted and respected each other, wanted the best for the other. If he had this close of a connection with any other woman, Marvyn was sure he would develop feelings for her. But this was Holly. They worked together. They were friends, yes, but their relationship was professional and strictly platonic. Whatever mentor/mentee, co-worker relationship and friendship they had was a whole lot more interesting for the both of them than some dating scenario. He always figured a crude, yet expert sexual encounter would ruin what they had together. But now, he wasn’t so sure. He wanted her. All of her.

His earlier hesitation quickly disappeared. He swiftly dipped his fingers beneath the lace of her underwear, ghosting his fingers over her wet center, teasing her. Her breath grew jagged with anticipation. His touch was a mere whisper on her skin, but it made her thighs tremble. There was no holding in the gasp that escaped her when he swiped through her slick with his deft fingers. He found her clit with his middle finger, rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles, eliciting a breathy moan from her.

The position they were in wasn’t exactly comfortable, at least not for Marvyn. His right arm was still being crushed under her, and him lying on his back beside her wasn’t the most ideal if he wanted to give her the best finger-fuck of her life.

She was pleased when he moved to hover over her, basking under the weight of him above her. He was so much bigger than her. He was practically engulfing her.

“I want to see you,” he whispered, reaching to turn on one of the bedside lamps. It illuminated the room just right, not too bright, not too dark, just light enough to tear away the shadows on her cheeks and restore the glimmer in her bright blue eyes.

His right hand, still half-asleep from being under her for so long, moved to hold down her hip, keeping her still. She could already feel the bruises forming from how tight he was gripping her. The thought of him leaving a mark on her sent shockwaves of excitement through her.

He slid his other hand out from her sleep shorts, moving once more to set up on his knees. He brought his hand to Holly’s mouth, still wet with her slick.

“Open,” he directed, pressing his fingers against her lips. She obeyed, opening her mouth, and sucking on his fingers covered with her own arousal. She flicked her tongue against his knuckles, tasting herself, faintly, and feeling the roughness of his skin. He groaned and dragged his hand down to rest on her neck. No pressure. No real grasp or hold. But it stole her breath just the same.

He hadn’t even kissed her yet, something about that step feeling far too intimate. Somehow kissing her would be too far for Marvyn but rubbing her clit and letting her suck on his fingers isn’t too intimate.

Eager to feel his lips on her, Holly moved from fisting the bedsheets to fisting Marvyn’s t-shirt, pulling him down toward her. He kissed her then. It was heated, passionate, intimate. His hand still rested on her neck, his other gripping her hip, pushing her into the mattress. His tongue prodded at the seam of her lips, eager to explore her mouth.

That kiss may have been the best she’d ever had. She ran her fingers through his hair, using her grip to pull him closer to her, deepening the kiss. She lifted her hips up into him, searching for the friction her clit was craving. Her movements matched perfectly with Marvyn as he shifted his hips into hers. He was wedged between her legs, hot and hard, exactly where she wanted him. He'd be able to thrust into her right now if they weren't wearing clothes. Why the fuck are we still dressed? Holly screamed silently in her head.

The heat of his body on top of her was electrifying. She fisted his t-shirt sleeves in an attempt to keep him there, addicted to the feeling of being trapped underneath him.

His lips traveled down her jaw. He tilted her head to the side, giving him access to kiss her throat. She melted under him, a loud whimper escaping her. His mouth left a trail of hot, wet kisses down her throat, across her shoulder, and along her collarbone. Being kissed had never felt so perfect, so hot.

“You won’t be needing this,” he said, lifting her top over her head and throwing it somewhere off the bed. She loved seeing him take control like this. Outside of the bedroom was a different story. She hated when he belittled her, undermined her, told her what to do. It was infuriating. But in the bedroom, under his touch, she’d do nearly anything he asked of her.

He took hold of one of her now bare breasts, the textured skin of his thumb circling her nipple made her shudder. He lowered his head to give her other breast some attention, taking her nipple in his mouth. Her hands flew to the back of his head, holding him against her, never wanting him to stop.

“Marvyn,” she sighed. It was the first word she had spoken in nearly 10 minutes.

He continued in his path down her body, kissing down the taut lines of her stomach, setting tiny little fires across her body.

“You won’t be needing these either,” he repeated, tugging her sleep shorts and panties down her incredible legs. He couldn’t wait to be between her perfect thighs, tasting her, exploring her.

“Please,” she whimpered, guiding his head down where she wanted him most.

“Patience, Coach,” he teased. She felt him smile against her inner thigh as he kissed her there. She changed her mind. He was infuriating in bed too. Such a fucking tease.

Without warning, he licked her bottom to top, stopping at her clit to suck on it, humming into her, making her jolt as if she’d been shocked.

“Fuck!” She bucked her hips into his face. He grasped her inner thighs, pushing her in the mattress, holding her still, and spreading her further apart for him. He slid his tongue between her folds, tasting her wetness, before he found her clit again, locking his mouth around it, sucking hard. Her body almost caught on fire when he slid two fingers into her, pumping into her slowly. She had never been eaten out like this before. She had no idea it could feel this fucking good. Her ex-husband would do the bare minimum, never really caring if she got off or not. He didn’t explore her like this. He didn’t take his time with her the way Marvyn was, learning what she liked, noting every move that made her squirm and moan. She was sure Marvyn had to have watched some sort of online how-to video or something because there was just no way this man could use his tongue and his mouth so skillfully. He devoured her cunt like it was his birthright, as if he'd been programmed to put his mouth precisely here and there and lick her till she screamed. And he was clearly enjoying it too. He was moaning for fucks sake.

His name fell from her lips once more as she lifted her hips to the rhythm of his licks, seeking release. “Patience,” he repeated himself. He slid his fingers out of her, replacing them with his tongue. He felt the suck of her cunt on his tongue as he fucked her with it, imagining how incredible it would feel around his cock, which was still strained against the fabric of his boxers, leaking and painfully hard. But this wasn’t about him. At least not then. He wanted to make her cum, feel her release around his tongue and taste her before he fucked her.

“Okay, Holly,” he breathed against her, “You can let go now.” He dove back into her, placing his thumb over her clit and rubbing concentrated circles. He lapped at her folds and brought his other hand down to finger her.

“Marvyn!” she cried out desperately. The stimulation was almost too much. The pleasure was intense, earth-shatteringly so. It consumed her entire body from head to toe. Heaven and torture at the exact same time.

“I know. I know. Just let go for me,” he encouraged. She whined when he pushed another finger into her and curled it, reaching for the spot inside her that he knew would send her over the edge. He continued sucking and flicking at her clit, showing no mercy as he tore her apart, fucking her with his hand and mouth until she was screaming his name and banging her thighs against his ears. Her desperate screams did nothing to halt his movements as he guided her through her orgasm before pulling his fingers out and snaking his tongue into her, tasting her release.

He came up for air, finding her breathing heavy, eyes closed, with her head thrown back into the pillows. When she managed to catch her breath and regain a semblance of lucidity, she lifted her head to watch him begin a trail of wet kisses down her inner thigh. It was obscene. The sight of him between her legs, his chin dripping with her arousal. When he caught her gaze, he couldn’t help the smug smirk that graced his lips, satisfied with the sight of her almost completely wrecked without even fucking her yet.

He rose above her again to slot his mouth against hers. She let his tongue enter her mouth immediately, sucking her taste off of it. He trailed kisses across her cheek to her ear, sucking and nibbling on it for a short moment. “I want to feel you on my cock.”

“What the hell are you waiting for?” she asked breathlessly. He lifted himself off the bed, and she whimpered at the loss of his weight on top of her.

He was still far too overdressed, so he pulled his shirt up over his head. She lifted herself up on her elbows, getting a better look at the show he was putting on before her.

His cock still ached inside his boxers, heavy and hard, desperate to be inside her. When he finally set it free from its confines, it sprung straight up. She gasped at the sight of it, a flicker of nervousness flashed across her face. She had figured he’d be pretty well-endowed. He’s Marvyn Korn. Always bigger and better than everyone. But it was intimidating. She hadn’t been with anyone in a long time, and none of the toys she used at home did justice to the size of him.

“Protection…?” he said suddenly, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“I’m on the pill. I’m clean. Do you have a condom?”

He nodded and turned to walk toward his suitcase, giving Holly a nice view of his perfectly tight ass. He pulled out his wallet, fishing for the single condom he left in there from when he was dating Maggie.

“What are you? 17? Keeping a condom in your wallet?” she laughed.

“Ha. Ha,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes at her. He took his time opening the foil package and sliding the condom down his impressive length.

“You better hurry up. You should never keep a lady waiting.” When he looked up at her, he saw her leaning back against the pillows, legs spread, touching herself. Marvyn nearly came in his boxers at the sight of her rubbing her own cunt, still swollen and wet. She was fucking beautiful.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?” he asked, crawling back onto the bed. Her fingers continued to move in practiced circles around her clit.

“I didn’t realize I needed your permission,” she challenged boldly, lifting her head slightly to look him in the eye. The look of lust and anticipation in her eyes went straight to his cock. He stroked himself through the latex barrier of the condom as he knelt between her thighs, trying to give himself some relief.

Her movements came to a halt. He watched her in awe as she brought her own fingers up to her mouth, licking them clean, humming a soft moan at the taste of herself.

“God, you’re filthy,” he commented. He rubbed the tip of his cock against her clit.

She’d had enough of the teasing, enough of the waiting. She wanted him inside her so fucking badly. “Just fuck me already,” she pleaded, reaching up to run her hands down his hairy chest and abs, confirming they were just as perfect as his arms.

“Filthy and eager,” he noted aloud.

“Marvyn, I swear to God—” He thrust into her without warning, and she cried out his name. Holding still inside her, he let her adjust to the size of him. The way she felt around him was unreal. She was hot, wet, and so fucking tight. He moaned as he felt her cunt squeeze his cock as she willed her body to accustom his size.

He leaned down on top of her, smothering her body with his own. “Fuck,” he groaned in her ear, “You feel so fucking good, Holly.” He sucked lightly at the skin on her neck, tasting it’s the sweat that started to bead up there.

“Christ,” she groaned, throwing her head back, clinging to his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks on his skin from her nails, “So fucking… so big… so good,” she panted out incoherently as he increased the pace of his hips.

“You like getting fucked like this?” he grumbled in her ear, bringing his right hand to rest on her throat, not applying pressure, but making it known he could if he wanted to.

“Yes,” she managed, almost too quiet for Marvyn to hear.

“I like you like this. Taking my cock. Not putting up a fight,” he voiced lowly, biting at her ear.

She loved the dirty talk, but she hated how much his words turned her on. She lived to put up a fight, never one to accept being demeaned by someone else, especially a man. But having Marvyn so big and strong and sexy on top of her, dominating her, it was incredible, something she could only dream of.

She whined when he pulled out of her. He flipped her onto her stomach, gripped her hips, sure to leave bruises in the shape of his fingertips. Her arms were splayed in front of her, and her cheek pressed against the hotel bed sheets as he dragged her hips up to meet him. He positioned himself at her entrance, pushing her legs apart so she was wide open for him. He slammed into her. The sound of his low groans and slapping of skin on skin was so obscene it nearly forced her them both to come undone.

“Marvyn,” she breathed. He just barely heard her.

He fisted her hair, pulling back just hard enough so that she was looking back over her shoulder at him. “That’s it,” he praised, “I love the sound of my name on your lips. I love hearing you lose it for me.”

“God, Marvyn,” she gasped in between moans, loving the verbal praise, wanting more.

“You take me so well,” he grunted, “Like you were made for me, for my cock.” The words rolled out of his mouth before he could even register what he was saying. But he watched and took note of the way a smile crept to her lips and the way her walls clenched around his cock with each word – she got off on it. This new discovery egged him on. He pulled her body up against him, holding her to him by the base of her throat. “Fuck, Holly. I don’t know how I’m supposed to ever stop fucking you,” he growled in her ear.

“Then don’t,” she panted matter-of-factly. Her answer surprised him. He wasn’t expecting her to even respond to him with anything besides a moan. The implications of her response made his head spin. Did she want to do this again? He thought to himself hopefully.

Her head fell back on his shoulder. She brought her hands up to grope her breasts, tweak each nipple between her fingers. “I need you to touch me,” she begged.

“Ask. Nicely,” he growled, punctuation each word with a thrust into her swollen cunt.

“Marvyn,” she let out a sigh so sexy it would put a fucking pornstar out of business, ”Please touch me. I’m so close.” She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling a familiar coil tighten in her stomach.

“Are you gonna cum for me?”

“Yes, Marvyn, for fuck’s sake, touch me. Please. Let me cum all over you.” She was desperate for release.

Satisfied with her desperate pleas, he released his hand from her throat, moving it down to rub circles over her clit. When her legs began to shake, Marvyn fucked into her with a new urgency.

She cried out, screaming his name, her orgasm ripping through her with an intensity she had never experienced before. Her body went limp, relying on him to hold her up against him. His hand was still rubbing her clit as he fucked into her sensitive, overstimulated cunt. She hissed, pushing his hand away, the electric shocks pulsing through her body were just too fucking much.

“Come on, Marvyn,” she encouraged with what little energy she had left. “You fill me up so good. Please cum for me.” As dominant as he was with her, he got off on the praise too, his hips slamming into her harder and sloppier, chasing his own orgasm.

“God, Holly. The things… fuck…you do to me.” He was so gone, the feeling of his impending release leaving his brain fried.

“Show me, Marvyn,” she whispered huskily, “Please. For me.”

His head fell back, biting his lip to fight the loud groan that wanted to escape him. He paused deep inside her as he climaxed. He nearly blacked out; the force of his orgasm stronger than he’s had in a very long time.

He held onto the condom as he slowly pulled out of her. He got up from the bed, his legs unsteady, and walked to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. He eyed the clean washcloths on the bathroom counter as he was walking out, grabbing one and wetting it a little in case Holly needed it to wipe herself off. Ever the gentleman.

But when he walked back into the room, he found Holly already fast asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he left the small towel on her bedside table. Before turning off the lamp, he took a moment to study her face, blissful, beautiful, and glowing. After turning off the light, he climbed into bed next to her. He kissed her temple before turning on his side to let sleep claim him.

When they both woke to their alarms a few hours later, things were…somewhat awkward between them. They danced around each other as they got ready for their day of camp with the girls, neither of them wanting to have that conversation, wanting instead to pretend that what happened was just some crazy sex dream for the both of them in order to avoid dealing with how it changed their relationship, their partnership, their friendship.

Holly looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, traced her fingers along the bruises he left on her hips and her neck. Dear God, he left fucking hickeys on her neck. She covered what she could with what little makeup she had brought on this trip. The girls won’t even notice, she thought wishfully.

They did in fact notice. Not only did they notice the poorly covered-up marks on her neck, but they also noticed the slight limp in her walk when she arrived to the camp with Marvyn.

“Looks like you guys owe me 10 bucks,” Samantha bragged to the other starters sitting at the table for breakfast.

“How do you even know they did it?” Louise questioned.

“Well, she did do a pretty terrible job at hiding those bruises on her neck,” Destiny commented.

“Wait, he left bruises on her?!” Mouse said a little too loudly, genuinely concerned.

The entire table shushed her.

“They’re hickeys, Mouse. Duh,” Samantha said. “Those two definitely got together.”

“She is kinda limping a bit, not gonna lie,” Destiny observed with a laugh. Louise shushed her, slapping her on the shoulder.

“I kind of hope you’re right, Sam,” Olive chimed in, “It’s kind of cute, like right out of a movie. Coach and assistant coach fall in love…”

“Bang in a hotel room while away at team camp,” Destiny continued, met with another hit on the shoulder from Louise.

“Guys, look,” Samantha whispered urgently, nodding her head towards the breakfast buffet.

The girls all zipped their heads around to see what Samantha was pointing at. They watched as Holly and Marvyn stepped through the buffet line together, side by side, with Marvyn’s hand resting on Holly’s lower back.

“How much more proof do you need?” Samantha asked. “Pay up!”

#CAN U PPL PLEASE WATCH THIS SHOW ALREADY #if no one's gonna write harvyn smut #THEN I FUCKING WILL #STREAM BIG SHOT NOW ON DISNEY+#THANK YOU #pitbull lyric for the title as i should #big shot on disney+#big shot series #disney+#harvyn #holly barrett #marvyn korn #harvyn fanfiction #harvyn fic #holly and marvyn #my fics #my gifs

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1ddiscourseoftheday · 4 years ago

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🗣Tues 15 Dec ‘20🙊

Anyone order their daily with EXTRA DISCOURSE today? Lucky you, I guess, I'd send it back to the kitchen if I had the option but this is more a 'you'll take what you get and like it' kind of establishment so here we are! EAT UP we got Liam and Lou Teasdale making everyone mad, Louis and Harry's teams forgetting they're supposed to be mortal enemies, and Zayn?? Getting papped?? Omg is Z3 really coming this time? I've been burned so many times before (flown too close to the sun) but what if....... So first Gigi and zaby stroller were papped, then Zayn was papped in his usual way-- 'if you can get a good picture of me in the seconds it takes me to walk from my front door to the car have at it, that's exactly all you get'-- and then a fan reported seeing Zigi and zaby at a pizza restaurant. Zayn's hair is bleached white blond and that's about all I can tell you except that Z NEVER gets papped (or spotted really) for nothing so I am excite!!

Liam's back! He did the postponed-from-last-Tues hour long live for Stand Up To Cancer (and raised $16k!) and he's got a show in two days so I'd say his extremely brief breather is probably done with, whether he got the time he needed to be happy about coming back or not. He seems in good shape for the live though, even if he does say “its been a really long day, you don't even know, REALLY long” and that what he wants most for Christmas is “to have a little bit of time to reflect.” But he says he is going to take some time out and go away and write music “for the first time in a very long time,” in the new year, nice! He mentions how he went up to Sweden for recording recently and says it ”went really well I'm really really excited” about the new music and, uhhh, “got something sent through from Mick Fleetwood while I was over in Sweden writing, some guitar stuff, which was amazing, and he was dressed like santa at the time!” I...what??? I'll just... leave that there?? About other bands, he says that he's become a big fan of the Wanted over time, that “someone Zayn-ed out,” of Little Mix but “Zayn left for pretty much the same reasons and I do feel for them,” and “are 5SOS still together? Did they pull an us I thought they pulled an us?” He said yes, it's so great about Louis' show, and “it was great, and do you know what, like listening through those lyrics, it’s really nice to hear the truth in his music because obviously I mean I know all of the full story about him, and [pause].. and uh... his relationship with his girlfriend and whatever else,” SKLDYSSKKJ.

This long live also had him responding to screen comments he would usually ignore (though thank GOD he only reads but doesn't answer 'what happened with Niall in Japan' please tell me the questioner wasn't trying to get him to comment on the 'violently masturbating' story), anyway so we got Liam on touching his hair if larry is real-- “of course that's not going to happen don't be silly,” and on whether he thinks 'larry is disrespectful' “sometimes I do... actually that's not true, all the time I do.” Well he's not wrong though I'd expand that to 'all the fans' but if I had to wade through a million “touch your nose if larry is real” comments every time I was promoting my own material, for ten years, I'd probably get tetchy too! He didn't say it was or wasn't real, as he himself pointed out he never WILL do that for REASONS; tbh I'm with Liam can people PLEASE stop being so embarrassing on main and let him live? ANYWAY, moving on, his Advent Alarm clock today is the sleep story edited down to be just Liam laughing for like 30 seconds, aka the exact edit that I suggested they should make a couple weeks ago, which I find frankly extremely alarming (ALARMing HA) are they... listening to me?? Well if Liam's management are looking for ideas BOY HAVE I GOT SOME FOR THEM hit me up fellas PLEASE.

Harry and Louis both announced further postponements of their UK and Europe tour shows, like really the same announcement and just fully back to back, I can only assume that after weeks of intensive hashing out to match up dates their teams have arrived at some kind of plan and were like cool let's announce! Louis has added some new shows, while Harry's new schedule is undisclosed as yet. Harry says “I really hope to play these shows and will have news for you in the new year on when they will take place.” Louis' new dates include previously omitted countries (Iceland! Austria!), and those tickets go on sale Friday. Harry did not respond to Rob Sheffield's awkward attempt to link Watermelon Sugar and WAP as being similar but he did like Megan Thee Stallion's post celebrating her successful year, and Vulture ranked Adore You in its top 5 videos of the year with a much better take on what Harry is all about, saying that it “highlights one of the singer’s best traits: his willingness to be delightfully weird.” Kid Harpoon said that he and Harry “wrote a song in Japan that may yet see the light of the day,” and Harry continues to roast him, disputing his songwriter of the year award-- “they found 8,000,000 opposing ballots in a bin behind his house! FRAUD!”

And last but most discourse-y-est of all, The Sun made waves today, pulling the most salacious parts of a Lou Teasdale interview with the Sex, Lies and DM Slides podcast from last week and bringing it to wider attention. In the interview she talked at length about systemic discrimination against women working in the music industry and her own work experiences, which naturally include (very briefly) touching on her highest profile job- the years she spent traveling with 1D. In this context she says “you kind of can’t sleep with them [the band]- it’s quite important to keeping your job... some people would come in and like you know assistants and stuff and I think they would really think... that it was love and obviously it’s not,” and “it’s just the quickest way to lose your job- because then they’ve got a new girlfriend and she’s there and they don’t want you in the room.” She did not sell her story to The Sun she mentioned this in passing as part of an interview about her work experiences; she herself says, “I didn’t do an interview [with] the sun. I’ve never done that. I did a podcast with friends about loads of things.”

There is nothing remotely unlikely in this story, either in the concept that members of the band slept with girls casually (we know that certain of them did and there isn't even anything wrong with that in a situation of consent, the denial of it is as bizarre as scribbling out the beer bottle in a 28 year old man's hand), or that low level members (“assistants and stuff”) of the 150 person+ crew appeared and disappeared on a regular basis. The band were, to my guess, probably simply not paying very much attention to the serious ramifications of this carelessness and the consequences rather than demanding that people be fired, but I do very much hope they've learned over the years to be responsible for the kind of power that they have over other peoples' lives (something I really doubt they understood the extent of yet as very young people being dragged from one place to another who felt powerless themselves).

#liam payne #harry styles #louis tomlinson #zayn #lou teasdale #listen: people talk about wanting the 1D tell all but I don't think you guys do want it at all tbh #you know the whole point of that is that it will destroy the 'perfect angels' front that was created around the boys?#loving and supporting someone even though you know they are imperfect and flawed is not something to be ashamed of though #so I say bring it on #Liam has SO MANY reasons to be cranky right now and coming back online to everyone clamoring for him to comment #on Louis' record breaking veeps stream... honestly think it through?? have some fucking tact #Liam also said Freddie and Bear facetime which is just such clear nonsense I have no comment he just wants to make people happy #I DON'T KNOW if the Mick Fleetwood thing is real like – he seems dead serious??? I think it's serious?#How fucking Liam is that right he is as ever the most unrealistic I'm bringing back that tag:#Liam is a Gary Sue #Zaayyyyn is Z3 coming??? listen may I suggest sir-- LIVEZTREAM??? PLEASE?#I know you won't tour and wouldn't want you to but just consider how PERFECT this would be?? PLEASE SIR #lost in the shuffle: Lou Teasdale also addressed the old quote about keeping the 1D boys from looking 'too feminine'#(assumed to be @harry) saying 'it’s taken totally out of context. A clip from male grooming interview talking about grooming men.#I have no problem with men wearing make up or looking feminine it’s my profession. I apologise it sounds like that here.'#I feel like the truth is somewhere in between but I very much doubt she- the MUA- had final say over their images #and might well have not been the only thing standing between harry and his nail art and eyebrow grooming #I don't like her but like- dislike her for better reasons!#There are plenty she's very annoying but talking about sexism in the workplace and telling her story isn't one of them #Liam said he was very drunk watching Louis' show #I have a lot of things I'd like to say to Liam's management but mostly not publicly and some of them very rude #but I will say that while I guess the acknowledgement that young girls are the real drivers of the music industry and should be courted is #cool the continued obsession with only marketing these guys to that demographic was always ridiculous #and gets worse every year and Liam's team is simply throwing away money and fans by not marketing him so hard (heh) to out gay men #long post

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stardusttkachuk · 4 years ago

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Santa’s Workshop

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: fluff, swearing,

Summary: JJ picks up a holiday job, working as one of Santa’s elves. He doesn’t expect to meet another elf there, but isn’t disappointed in who he’ll be working with all season.

A/N: This is day 1 of starduststarkey’s 12 days of Christmas. Find other fics in my masterlist

Wanna be tagged? click here!

“You look fucking ridiculous,” John B says as JJ stands in front of the broken full length mirror that JB picked up from a junkyard.

“At least I have a job, asshat.” He fixes his hat on his head, grimacing at the way the tights hug his body. He’s uncomfortable in every place imaginable and is already dreading the 5 hour shift.

“Maybe if you’re a good elf, Santa will bring you a girlfriend this year!” Pope teases.

“You better shut the fuck up before this elf beats you to a pulp,” JJ threatens, fists raised.

Pope laughs. “I don’t think elves are supposed to be getting in fist fights.”

JJ huffs and rolls his eyes. Pope is right. He can’t show up to this job covered in bruises, that would scare the kids even more than he probably already will.

“Will you please drive me?” He asks John B.

“Maybe you should ask Santa for a car,” John B says, grabbing the keys to the Twinkie.

“Why do you think I even took this job in the first place? Please. I don’t want to be seen in public like this.”

You set your bag in the provided cubby, checking your phone one last time before your scheduled session. When you had signed up to be one of Santa’s elves at the local mall, you were ecstatic. You and your best friend had been doing this for the last two years. But this year, your best friend ditched you for the hot chocolate stand. Really she ditched you for the cute girl who worked at the hot chocolate stand, and now you were stuck working with some kid named JJ Maybank. You crossed your fingers in hopes that he wasn’t some loser like the guy they hired last season.

“Santa arrives in 10 minutes! You better be out there in 5!” Natasha, the showrunner of Santa’s Workshop yells through the improvised locker and changing room. “Where’s your other elf?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. He hasn’t shown up yet.”

“Well when he gets here tell him he’s a dead man if he isn’t here 15 minutes prior to his shift.” She storms out, clipboard in hand.

The first day is always one of the craziest. Things don’t settle down until a few weeks in. And by the time they do settle down, it’s already the week before Christmas and they get crazy again.

“Hi. I’m JJ Maybank. I think this is where I’m supposed to be?” You hear someone say, likely talking to the nutcracker that’s posted outside the green room.

“In there. Find Y/N. You’ll know it’s her because she’ll be dressed just like you.”

You roll your eyes. At least he showed up. Ten minutes late but he did make it.

He passes through the curtains, blonde hair a mess under his elf hat. You’ll have to remind him to brush it before he arrives. You have an extra brush in your bag, but you know you won’t have time to make it look perfect.

He spies you easily, strutting towards you. “I’m JJ. Are you Y/N?”

“That’s me. You’re late, by the way.”

JJ looks at his watch, eyes wide and mouth agape. “I’m five minutes early! That’s the earliest I’ve been for any job!”

“Natasha’s rules state all workshop employees must be present 15 minutes prior to their shift.”

JJ rolls his eyes. “It’s only ten minutes.”

“And if it happens again, you’re a dead man. So you better be here 15 minutes early next time.”

“Okay but why 15? Aren’t we just sitting around those 15 minutes until our shift starts?”

“It’s for costume malfunctions. Like your hair. It needs to be brushed. If you had been here 10 minutes earlier, maybe we would’ve had time to brush it and make it look better.”

“My hair looks fine,” JJ grumbles, though he does attempt to smooth down the ends with his hands.

You lead him over to the cubby next to yours, gesturing to it. “Put your stuff in here. And that includes your phone.”

JJ places both his phone and wallet into the cubby. He then takes his jacket off and puts it on top of the two valuable items.

“No one is going to steal your stuff, if you’re worried about that. This place is heavily monitored,” you say. “And no one but Santa’s crew is allowed back here anyway.”

JJ is about to speak when an elderly woman with white hair tucked under her hat enters the room. “Looks like Mrs. Claus has arrived,” he jokes.

“That’s Natasha.” You grab JJ’s hand, pulling him out to Santa’s corner before Natasha has a chance to yell at him for his tardiness.

“So what exactly do we do?” JJ whispers, eyeing the line of children and their parents that seems to wrap around the entire display.

“We help the kids from their parents to Santa’s lap and then back out to their parents again. And don’t forget the candy cane before they leave.”

JJ grimaces. “You mean we have to interact with the kids?”

“Yes. Now smile and act like an elf,” you say.

“How do- ohf!” JJ grunts as you elbow him and immediately reach forward for the hand of a little girl.

“Hi! I’m elf Y/N! And this is my friend elf JJ! What’s your name?” You ask in a high pitched voice.

“I’m Sophie,” she beams. She grasps onto JJ’s hand and you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing at the face he makes. It’s clear he isn’t a fan of kids and you can’t wait to watch him interact with them for the next 30 days.

JJ pulls his booties on over the tights, chuckling to himself as the bells jingle. They jingle every time he walks. He’s grown so used to the sound now though. He’s grown used to looking absolutely ridiculous in his costume. He’s even grown used to the kids, which he thought was impossible.

But the way Y/N smiles when he coos at a baby or holds onto a preschoolers hand has helped him get over his dislike of the kids. He’d do just about anything to see her smile.

“Ready?” John B asks from the doorway, keys looped around his finger.

“Actually a friend is picking me up,” JJ says, grabbing his phone and wallet.

“What friend? You don’t have any friends besides us.”

“Well that’s very rude of you to think. I have plenty of friends. And her name is Y/N. We work together.”

“Work together or sleep together? Or both. Do you guys like, get it on in the costumes?”

“Ew, no,” JJ scoffs.

“Okay, you know elves is somebody's kink,” John B adds, shuddering as he does.

“I didn’t want to know that. I don’t want to think about that.”

“Okay but Y/N… you like her.”

“No. We’re just friends. We’re coworkers. We work the same shift and she offered to give me a ride, okay? Now can you make yourself disappear before she gets here? I don’t want her seeing your face.”

John B pouts. “Why not? I have a very likable face.”

“Just… please?” JJ asks, but it’s too late.

The beat up Ford truck pulls up in front of the house. JJ knows it’s hers. On days when they work late and it’s dark outside by the time they leave, he walks her to her car. They once spent two extra hours after work sitting in her car and talking. She even gave him a ride home once, but he made her drop him off down the street. It was too risky for her to pull up to his actual house, especially if his dad was home.

JJ knows John B is in the doorway when he exits the house. He watches as Y/N waves, a courteous smile on her face. JJ walks to the passenger side, hearing the familiar squeak of the old door.

“Who’s that?”

“John B. He’s my best friend.”

“He’s dating Sarah Cameron right?” she asks.

“Yeah. You know Sarah?”

“Everyone on this island knows Sarah,” Y/N laughs. JJ knows she’s not wrong. Everyone did know the Cameron's, especially after the huge scandal that went down last summer. People don’t typically forget about a murder and stealing of millions of dollars worth in gold.

“Right,” JJ laughs nervously.

You tear your elf hat off as soon as you reach your truck. Today was a hard shift. Multiple crying kids, lines that wrapped all around the mall, parents who didn’t understand the concept of patience and waiting, and then there was the kid that peed on Santa Claus and made everyone wait even longer while Santa went to change. It was a nightmare.

If it wasn’t for JJ, today would’ve been the day you quit.

But he insisted on stopping for dinner before you dropped him off, so here you were, sitting at a booth across from him, the both of you still clad in your elf costumes.

You probably looked ridiculous but you didn’t care. JJ was your sole focus tonight. He let you vent to him about the craziness of the day and when you weren’t talking he was telling you about the funniest wishes he had overheard while on candy cane duty.

“All their missing socks?” You laugh, hand covering your mouth.

JJ nods, laughing harder. “He-He couldn’t understand why the dryer monster needed his socks more than him. He even asked if-if monsters were on the naughty list!” JJ bursts out laughing, as do you. If there was one thing that could cheer you up, it was this.

“Kids got a point,” you giggle. “Why does the dryer monster only take one sock and not both? Do you think he only has one leg?”

JJ nods, his smile wide. “Yeah, instead of one eye he’s got one leg.”

Your laughs die down slowly, but you can’t wipe the smile off your face. The smile that was forced all throughout the day was now a real one.

“I’ve missed that smile,” JJ says, reaching his hand across the table.

You blush but take his hand without hesitation, lacing your fingers through his.

JJ nervously clears his throat. “Do you think when this is all over, I can take you on an actual date?”

You’re not sure your smile could get any wider. “I’d like that.”

You both stare at each other for a while longer, before JJ can’t wait anymore. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he says, leaning over the table.

“I’d like that too,” you respond, meeting him halfway.

Tags: @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @serpentbaby @etoilesnoor @k-k0129 @maybanksbaby @talksoprettyjjx @canibeoneofthepogues @multifixx @theonetheonlyalexbrown @glux64 @shy-1234 @sleepyhollands @cognacdelights @ilovejjmaybank @blueeyedbesson @cheshirecat107 @myrandom-fandomlife @makebank @ifilwtmfc @obxmxybxnk @kookkyra @rafej-cambanks @blindedbypeaky @ahiae @repostcentral @midnightzonzz @blxndeprincess @dracosbbygorl @itsagurl @Poguesinablanket @amandaburris @tovvaa @sunnsettee

#jj maybank #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #outer banks #outer banks fluff #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #obx fic #obx imagine #obx fluff #obx

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putschki1969 · 4 years ago

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Hi Puts, I have a question, but maybe it's too personal. As a fan, how much money do you spend? I think the three FC alone cost about $130 a year. Each shipment to Mexico costs between $20 and $50, including fees. Buying CDs, DVDs, streaming tickets, shop items, magazines (Idk if Hikaru and Keiko send something like Botanical Tsushin) I think is quite a bit of money. I graduated this year and recently started working, so I'm wondering how much money I need to pay for everything I want.

Hello there!

Don't worry, I have no filter so there is literally nothing too personal you could ever ask me. Also, I think it's important to be transparent about stuff like that.

Before I get to the juicy details I want to preface this post by saying that I am in a very privileged position so using my fangirl expenses as a general reference is probably not the best idea. There is free education and public health care in my country so I do not have any debts from either of those. On top of that I do have a job with a decent salary and my monthly fixed costs are comparatively low since I share the rent and stuff with my mum (yup, I am 30+ and choose to live with my mum, sue me). My company pays for public transportation, internet and a big portion of my meals. Last but not least, I have no car, no partner, no kids, no pets, no other social commitments or anything else that would burden me financially aside from my obsession with Kalafina so I am free to spend a considerable amount of my income on my "hobby" without having to worry too much about running into debt or not having enough savings.

Having said that, I will openly admit that I spend a SHIT-TON of money for my girls, much more than I am honestly comfortable with. Yes, I can more or less afford it but it still brings me a lot of pain and tears every single day.

Now let's get into the details 〈(•ˇ‿ˇ•)-→ [Like you I will be using USD for easy understanding]

I honestly cannot tell you a definitive number since my expenses always change depending on how many events and releases are scheduled for a particular time period. I guess I can provide a rough overview of what I am currently spending on Kalafina since there are quite a few things happening right now (nothing compared to last December though).

The four FCs I am part of with their combined costs of roughly $150 are what I consider to be “negligible costs” and they are really my least concern in the grand scheme of things.

The streaming tickets are very cheap in my opinion and I would gladly pay even more for them if it meant I wouldn't have to spend a fortune on regular trips to Japan. But yeah, it's another $150 to $200 a year for various streaming events.

Releases and merch are pricey in and of themselves (incl. around $5-$10 of domestic shipping) but it's made even worse when you are crazy like me and buy multiple copies of something just to get special benefits. Recently I have ordered Hikaru's merch (~$100), Keiko's merch (~$50), Wakana's merch (~$120) and three *coughs* copies of Wakana's Blu-ray (~$220). I also made sure to purchase Hikaru's albums on iTunes (~$20) even though I already own the CDs.

International shipping/import fees is where the costs pile up and I usually end up paying anywhere from $20 up to $150 for packages. Austria has literally the WORST import regulations T_T

I also indulge in the occasional Kalafina fashion item so that gets pretty expensive too. But that’s just me so there is really no need to take these costs into consideration.

So yeah, you can expect to spend a LOT of money depending on how greedy you are. :P Being an overseas Kalafina-fan sucks! However, I have two tips for you:

Prioritising is key! Find out what’s most important to you and then make peace with the fact that you will never be able to buy everything because that’s just not reasonable (unless you are filthy rich :P). I obviously focus on digital and physical music releases because that’s how you support their solo careers. I know it’s tempting to pirate this stuff but I urge all fans to make those purchases. The same applies to live stream tickets. If you have the means and the event is foreigner-friendly, please go for it! Aside from that, you will just have to choose your orders wisely. Ask yourself the questions: What kind of benefits do I prefer? What merch am I most likely to use? Any merch I am particularly fond of? Make sure you don’t end up overspending. While I keep encouraging fans to spend their money, you should always do it within reason.

Cluster your orders! If you are using a proxy service like Tenso or Buyee, it’s best to have items arrive around the same time so you can consolidate your packages (within the 30-day period). After all, there is nothing more frustrating than paying $20 on shipping for a tiny fan club magazine that’s basically for free. So before you make a purchase, check the scheduled shipping time and try to make your orders align with each other. And also try to pay attention to the shipping dates of FC-related items, that’s not always easy since the schedules aren’t exactly regular but you can at least get a feel for them. If a FC item happens to arrive at the warehouse, you could always use that opportunity to order some in-stock goods or releases you have had your eye on. They should arrive quickly so you can ship them together with the FC-item. Please note that this will of course increase shipping costs/import fees since your packages will get bigger/heavier but I think at the end of the day, you are still saving money.

I know it’s often frustrating and intimidating to navigate through the world of Kalafina but I hope my posts can at least somehow help to alleviate the the stress that comes with being an overseas fan.

#kalafina #reply #wakana #keiko #hikaru #life is hard as kala-fan

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work-before-glory · 3 years ago

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Hey G

I'm not able to stay consistent with my studies. Neet is two months away and I have not completed my syllabus even once yet. I'm so scared and frustrated too. I want to study but I cannot get myself to. I sit on my desk for hours and waste time. I have recently even started breaking down. I know the problem is me. I have all the resources and all the support but I'm not working and I HATE MYSELF FOR IT. I don't know what is wrong with me.

Seeing your last post really motivated me.

Can you give me some tips to get me back into the study mindspace?

Nonnie, bby it's okay.

See first of all I'd say that don't hate yourself, don't be so harsh with yourself, okay? We all go through these bouts of unproductivity. Especially with everything being online it is so so hard to focus. I have been in your place SO SO MANY times trust me.

I myself am just an aspirant hun so idk how helpful my advice would be for you.

You're already closer to your goal because you know you want to do it, right? You've made your mind. So kudos to you for that firstly.

All I wanna say is babe don't focus on how much time is left because see NEET PG is being postponed by 6-8 weeks, UG counselling round 1 was revoked, there's sooo much going on with the elections and boards and blah blah.

Just focus on completing your syllabus as of now. But make a plan, set a deadline and follow them. Divide your goals into weekly -> daily -> hourly and FOLLOW THEM. Do not take any unnecessary stress just keep going.

So for focusing, a few things that help me a lot are :

1. Study with me sessions on YouTube. My favorite channel is Study Vibes and the streams are very regular and organised. You can study in real time on a live stream. It is very helpful.

2. Study streams are also great. You can join a zoom call with other people studying and seeing them study is motivating.

3. Use active recall; try teaching someone. It's not only going to help you memorise concepts for longer but it'll keep you interested too. I don't really have anyone 24×7 with me to study with so what I have started doing is I teach myself, either by going on a Google meet or in the mirror. I pretend I'm teaching myself. It is really helpful trust me.

4. Babe, please start meditating. That's the only way you can calm yourself down and not have breakdowns. You don't have to do extensive 30/40 minute sessions. Just a 5 minutes guided meditation session will do.

5. Make realistic schedules. If you feel you can in one day start studying 15 hours a day, it's practically impossible. Start small. Stay consistent. You'll get there hun.

6. Reward yourself. It WORKS! You wanna watch a video? Complete a chapter revision and only when you finish your decided work let yourself watch the video. Rewards can work magic.

7. Listen to songs, dance, workout, paint, eat well. See we're very very young. It is not the end of the world if we fail once in our lives. I'm not saying that means we should not give our 100% but taking extreme steps is not the solution. You've got time babe. Take a deep breath and keep working.

8. If you need some external motivation, ALAKH PANDEY SIR it is. Idk anyone who can inspire you the way he can. His small 1 minute motivating videos on YouTube can move your soul. I swear.

9. Watching NEET result reaction videos always make me cry. You can imagine yourself in that place exactly some months from now. Watch some. I'm pretty sure they'll make you wanna work hard.

Remember you're not alone. I'm working too. There are 16 lakh another students. Don't worry. Don't take stress.

Ly ❤️

Keep going bby.

#anon ask #mental wellbeing #study motivation #neet ug #motivation #medicine #study hard #studyblr #neet 2022 #productivity

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singeramg · 5 years ago

Text

Ruin Me

Quick little reader insert imagine based off this post. Based off a non-ask...

*Update: Now a full length story! Check out Masterlist for my chapters?*

Pairing: CEO! Henry Cavill x Female! Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Power imbalance, dom! Henry, sub! reader, fingering, dirty talk...

Song choice: Funny How Time Flies- Meshell Ndegeocello

PART 2 HERE

“ Y/N can you bring me a cup of coffee...please.”

His voice wasn’t raised but his tone told you all you needed to know.

He was not happy. Not happy at all.

He had called you from the phone in his office, not even bothering to call through the door or better yet come to the door himself which he usually did when he needed something from you and was in a good mood. You don’t dwell on it much and you get to your feet, and hustle over to break room to make a fresh pot of coffee.

It doesn’t take long; you wait the ten minutes to brew, taking note that your coworkers are packing up for the night. You look at the clock and realize you better do the same.

Although you have nowhere special to be the last thing you wanted to do on a Friday night was spend more time at the office. You didn’t complain much, the job wasn’t had for you. You hadn’t been with the company long but you were sure you liked it thus far.

You were Executive Assistant to the CEO of Cavill Industries. a company he started with his brothers years ago and had grown to be a world wide force. Henry Cavill may not have been the eldest brother but he certainly was the most determined and invested of the 5 and more so than any man you had met. This was why they made him the CEO.

You also thought that had something to do with the fact that he honestly was the best looking brother out of all of them.

The face of the company.

He had to stand out in a crowd, oh and Henry Cavill certainly did.

You could admit to no one but yourself that you had found him extremely attractive during your third and final interview where you finally got to meet him. If he wasn’t your boss, he would be exactly the type of guy you went for in terms of looks. Tall, dark curly hair, a jawline that could cut glass, dazzling smile and sharp blue eyes that seemed to pinpoint everything

Including any mistakes you made.

He had made adjusting to this new job hard for you.

Pointing out every mistake, forcing you to redo whole reports that people who got paid a lot more than you should have been doing

But nooooo

He ‘trusted ‘ a.k.a could hover over you while you fixed it.’ causing more late nights and overtime than you cared to think about.

Forget a social life, everything had to be about him.

You had to be everything.

In your job interview nobody had mentioned you would be basically in charge of his life.

Dry Cleaning, arranging his groceries to be delivered, you were even his dog walker on the days he brought his cute Akita Kal-El to the office.

Yea that was totally fun in the heels he forced you into everyday.

You had tried wearing respectable flats after your first week with sore feet and he vetoed that almost immediately.

Saying it wasn’t “seemly“ and that you were the assistant to the CEO and you should dress like it. Needless to say half of the time you wanted to slap him. The other time you were ridiculously turned on. I mean despite being an ass sometimes he played right into your masochistic streak. The way he spoke to you, wasn’t nasty but it had a very direct way that left no room for arguing or confusion. Just like with the heels. You normally would have argued your point, maybe even seen if he would come to some sort of compromise but you didn’t with him. You just kept the flats in your car and a pair under your desk for when you were sitting at your desk and for the days he was out of office.

That sort of sneaky was not like you at all. You just preferred to pull off the band-aid so to speak, but Mr. Cavill was not for any of that.

All you said to him when the response he wanted was obvious was a yes sir or no sir.

You made his coffee just as he liked two cubes of sugar, and a splash of cream. He always would like three extra cubes of sugar on the side, adding the extras depending on how his day had been going. The more sugar added the better his day. You walk as smooth as you can to his office, the large dark door. You don’t bother to knock, sliding open the door to his office, begging your heels not to catch on the floor. You sit his coffee on the desk, to his right, and far enough from his hand that he doesn’t accidentally knock it over.

You smooth out your black mid length dress, and try not to fidget with your red belt that gives a retro theme to the look, and you even had a red purse and red blazer to wear with it (which you had ditched mid-morning). You slip back out the door when he doesn’t look at you. You pick up the tablet you use to keep track of everything on a mobile basis. You pull up his calendar and head back into the large office.

The office itself had never intimidated you despite the large solid oak desk in the middle of the room. It felt open because of the floor to ceiling windows that had automatic curtains that came down on command. You actually loved his office despite the fact that you didn't spend a lot of time in it. You re-enter his office, and stand in front of the desk looking down at the calendar.

“Okay before the day ends I would like to go over your schedule for the weekend.”

He finally looked up at you, his blue eyes giving direct contact, that you couldn’t hold and went back to the glowing tablet, where the sun was starting to set outside.

“You have a dinner meeting tonight which starts at 6:30pm; a 30 minute commute time which means you need to be out of here in the next 45 minutes, if you would like to arrive with your 15 minute grace period as normal.”

He doesn’t say anything at first, then takes off the reading glasses off his face and tosses them on the desk.

“Continue.”

“ Not too many things on the agenda for this weekend except for family brunch on Sunday. Your mother requests you arrive on time this time.”

You regulate a smirk to the side of your mouth.

“I’ve arranged for a bouquet of flowers to be delivered to your house by 9am for you to take over there to her.”

“I don’t suppose I have any missed messages from today?”

You look at him confused.

“Ummm....no. Were you expecting a call?”

He sighs and rubs the temples of his head, clearly upset something.

“No...yes...don’t worry about it. You’ve already arranged for a car for me?”

Yep, he was upset and he was not about to share it with you. You didn’t press him, only prayed it didn’t result in a hell of a clean-up for you later. You had been the bad guy with no less than 4 woman, all of them glaring and spiting nasty vitriol at you when you wouldn’t give them access to Henry. You had seen them all come and go.

“Yes.”

He looks you over, getting to his feet, walking over to the door you knew to be an en-suite bathroom and keeping his extra changes of clothes.

“ Do you have any plans for tonight?”

He asks you suddenly and puts you on the spot. You don’t even have a lie to cover up how pitiful your life was, but you had to try. He didn’t need to know you don’t have anything planned tonight but a glass of wine and catching up on your TV shows you missed for all the overtime you’ve been working.

“Yes.”

“Like what?”

He asks almost immediately as if knowing you were lying. You had to try and get out of some crazy overtime he was known for. You didn’t want another late night in the office.

“Ummm...”

As noted earlier you didn’t think well on the spot. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“You know I don’t appreciate liars Y/N. Anyhow if you are done lying to me, the meeting for tonight requires a...feminine touch.”

“Feminine touch?”

You echo. He goes into the closet and you can hear him changing. You try not to think about him behind the wall.

“Yes. The people I am meeting with require a bit of finesse. The negotiations always go better when we bring our women to the meetings.”

“Soo... would you like me to call someone for you. I can have a dress sent over in their size to smooth the deal over.”

He laughs at you.

“No. Grab your things and call the car service to get here in 10 minutes.”

“ What stop the press? Are you putting me out of the office before you for once?”

You quip at him. He comes from around the corner his attire changed into a black button down shirt, left with the top few unbuttoned. He adjusts the sleeves and looks up with you.

“No you are going with me Y/N and we must hurry, you are going to require another dress.”

“But...”

“No buts. I need you and you are wasting time.”

He picks up a black suit jacket, his cologne hitting you with an umpf he walks by you to get to the car...

*********

The dinner had gone great from what you could tell. You saw a whole other side of Henry. One that was only observed under the rarest of occasions.

At least for you.

Overall you weren’t asked for much, Henry had bought you another black dress only this one was a bit more leggy than you were used to around such important people. Its spaghetti strapped and sweetheart neckline, offering way more cleavage than you would ever consider wearing around him, but Henry had literally come in with you, pulling it from the rack along with a few other choices and this was the tamest all the options he left you. You damn near had a panic attack in the dressing room. The women in the boutique had fixed your hair and makeup in the little amount of time you had, once again at Henry’s behest. You hadn’t be so pulled together since... well you couldn’t remember....

Henry had even been nice to you all evening, but you knew it was all an act, even if your body did respond to the compliments and lingering looks, the smile he would shoot you, he had even let his hands skim across your lower back.

You did your best not to read into anything. Had even gone along with the little game he was playing, being over sweet, playing with the curls on the nape of his neck, your hands lingering on his arms. Enough to suggest without being outwardly desperate and trashy. You were ever the smiling damsel to his associates, laughing at the jokes, ignoring the sexist comments about your dress or the ‘arm candy’ they referred to you as, despite it pissing you off.

You stayed to yourself most for the ride back to the office, and he stays quiet as well. Only then once the car parks do you realize in your haste earlier you left your keys upstairs. He insists he needs to come up as well to grab some files from his desk. You offer to bring them back down but he insists. You scurry to your desk, not finding them in the drawer where you usually kept your purse.

You don’t see them. You panic and look for them intensely.

Oh you hoped you didn’t leave them at the boutique where you changed dresses.

“Y/N. Could you come in here please? I would like to discuss something with you before you leave.”

He calls to you, the voice losing the soft tone he had with you all night, this only serves to make your blood run cold. Have you done something wrong? Said the wrong thing to the wrong person and cost him millions of dollars? You needed your job, and hoped pretty badly that this wasn’t the end of it.

You honestly couldn’t tell if you missed it or not. You disregard the thoughts you are having and push them back in your mind, offering to sort them out later. Preferably with alcohol nearby. You look into his office and see that he is standing behind his desk. Once you come in, thinking he needed something from you.

“Close the door.”

You close the door behind you, the lights on a dim shade, enough for you to see but not enough to over power your eyes.

“Did you need anything from me, because it’s late and I should be heading home...”

He surprises you by cutting you off in a tone that was even softer than any other time he had used with you before.

“I just wanted to say thank you for accompanying me tonight y/n.”

“You are Welcome. I’m just going to go...”

You smile and turn to leave but his voice stops you with a sharp tone that makes you freeze.

“Did I say you could leave?”

You feel your face get hot and you turn back around to face him. The lighting only showcasing the angles of his face, making you ever more nervous.

“No but Sir it's 12am...”

“I know what time it is. You are so stubborn all the time. Can’t even take a simple compliment.”

“I thought you were done.”

You shrug, and immediately regret being so nonchalant with him., his gaze intense.

“I wasn’t. Now before you interrupted me, I was saying thank you not only because you came with me but for playing your role so effortlessly. I didn’t expect you to be so ...reciprocating to me.”

“I figured that would be best. How would it appear if you showed up with a staff member we rather than a significant other like the other at the table.”

“Well your quick and astute observation saved me tonight.”

“All in a day's work. Now if I can just get out of these heels tonight and maybe into a pedicure tomorrow I will have made this all worth while.”

He surprises you by coming from behind the desk where he had been standing, coming to stand in front of you.

And you cursed yourself because it was back again.

The arousal you fought with every lingering look and touch he gave you tonight. How honeyed his words were with you, combined with the animalistic power you knew was just boiling under the surface.

“I have had many secretaries before and none of them take your position as seriously as you do. You put a lot of effort into your job and does not go unnoticed.”

Having him so close was unnerving. Especially when you had his direct attention. You can’t hold eye contact and look down at the floor. Henry touches your chin, his fingers tilt your chin up and you lock eyes. It wasn’t the first time you noticed the space of brown in his left eye, but the first time you were close enough to appreciate it.

You feel your pulse quickening.

“I don’t think I told you how beautiful you look tonight.”

He blinks slowly and you don’t breathe at all as his lips move toward your own. He is seconds away from kissing you, tension heavy in the room.

“Wait....Henry...I just...I Can’t go there.”

You say it out loud and it’s like someone let the air out of your balloon. He lets your face go and looks at you confused, for the first time you see just Henry. Not your boss, not the CEO who always had to be ‘on’ and in charge, you just saw Henry. His face was open and unguarded.

“It’s not that I don’t want you. It’s just you are my boss...”

Henry moves suddenly, and yet simultaneously time slows as he crashes his lips onto yours. The odd duality of soft, yet firm, calming yet passionate overtakes your mind and short circuits you. His hands are holding the side of your face on one side and behind your neck. His kiss steals what little breath you had away. You almost forget why this would have been such a bad idea but he pulls away.

“Darling, Didn’t anyone tell you? The boss makes the rules...”

He resumes kissing you and you offer little in the way of resistance as he picks you up, in fact you lock your legs around his waist and he deposits you on top of his desk. Everything you had been feeling for him was bubbling up in that moment. You were caught in being wanted to be treated like silk and wanting to toss him down and take exactly what you wanted in no uncertain terms of hatefucking him for all the jackass behavior he had exhibited since you started 6 months ago.

You slide his jacket off his broad shoulders, tossing it to the room, igniting the soft thud it makes when the expensive thing lands in a heap on the floor. He pulls your hips toward the edge of the desk and his large hands are hot as they slide up your skirt over trembling thighs and his lips move to your neck. He finds the sensitive spots there quicker than anyone ever had while also moving his fingers to play with your clit through the lining of the black lace panties you were wearing.

Your breath hitches in your throat and Henry grins against your lips, letting you take a second before he kisses you again. His fingers dance around before latching to the hemline and yanking them with enough force that they are torn from your body. Your hips sting from the pull, but you are more than turned on. You fumble with the buttons on his shirt, and don’t look at the skin revealed, but he doesn’t let you take it off him and instead pushes one of his fingers inside of you, you lewdly moan, and grasp his biceps quickly, having been taken off guard. It wasn’t that you weren’t wet, because you were plenty wet, your now ruined panties had been testament to that, but you had expected more of a playful teasing, but as one of your last coherent thoughts, you knew this man never wasted time.

He was a do-er...

And right now he was doing you. The amount of focus and precision he took in his work, pouring over contracts, logs, inventory and the like, he was putting in on you. As his finger moves in and out he is staring at you with such intensity you think you might explode.

“You are dripping baby girl. Melting right into the palm of my hand to be exact.”

He removes the finger that had been inside of you, raising it to his lips, tasting you from it, and you shudder. He kisses you again, you closing your eyes, then you hear in his deep tone like melted chocolate, luxurious to your ears,

“Open your eyes and suck them.”

He held two of his fingers and you opened your mouth. He wanted to hold your gaze.

“Get them nice and wet for me.”

You suck on them, imaging the girth that had been teasing you for months in his sacks, was what was actually in your mouth. You had wanted so badly to taste him and feel him you reach down, palming his obvious erection and you hear him growl. It was your turn to smirk, and as soon as he felt that smirk, he pulled his two fingers from your mouth and thrusts them into you.

You whimper and the one hand you left on his bicep clenched in, digging into his skin. His fingers glide in and out almost painfully slow. You need faster.You try to move your hips to make him move but he chuckles.

“That won’t work y/n. We do this at my pace. Be still or I will stop.”

He didn’t go any faster, his movements deliberately slow. You could tell he was getting a kick out this, and you whine again.

“Beg kitten.”

He whispers in your ear, his thumb teasing your clit again.

“Please.”

He moves a little faster.

“Come on love. You can do better than that.” Teasing.

“Please Henry...”

He slaps your thigh with a sharp tap and it sends the zing of arousal.

“That's not what you call me. Try again.”

While your brain is shorting out, you fumble on what he wants from you.

“I..i don’t know sir...”

He rewards you by speeding up more. Your torso drops backwards, your head follows as you rest back on your elbows, and legs move wider, making your dress bunch up around your hips.

“There you go. There’s what I was looking for. Now beg me to make you come.”

You worry your bottom lip, ignoring how your chest heaves, pulling against the black fabric of the dress.

“Fuck! Please sir please let me cum.”

“That’s more like it. Begging me like the dirty little slut you are.”

He speeds up, his fingers curling inside, tapping that spongy space that made your eyes cross and your vision blur. You didn’t think you would like being called a ‘little slut’ but it was more of a turn on than you had ever thought it would be.

“Sir let me cum please let me cum.”

His dexterous fingers speed up, his thumb rubbing your clit and you were glad no one else was in the office as your moans echo throughout the room.

“You want to be my good girl hmmm?”

You nod furiously, the edge of your orgasm coming up rapidly, as your walls begin their tell-tell sign of fluttering.

“Good girls wait until they have permission. You hold it.”

It was damn near impossible, but you try to focus on anything but how good his fingers feel. He pulls your body back up from the desk with his hand gripping behind your neck. His lips crash on your again, he lingers around your lips you breathe heavily against his lips.

“I’ll be your good girl!”

You yell.

“Good. Cum then come for me.”

It’s like the world goes silent and all you can focus on is his fingers as your orgasm pulls you under. It’s an out of body experience where you could hear your moans and groans of Henry’s name, where you were literally shaking, but you could bring yourself down. Destroyed, Henry is whispering praises in your ear. Calling you his and how good you were for him. It doesn’t take long to come back down, but when you do you feel wrung out, and as Henry pulls away, you notice the sheen of fine layered sweat on his forehead. You feel self conscious as he stares down at you, and without the haze of lust in your eyes it settles in you that your boss just gave you one of the best orgasms of your life and hadn’t even taken off his pants.

Pants that were currently begging you to be taken off. He begins to chuckle and you realize you’ve been staring at his cock outline, and he was laughing at you. He unbuttons his pants, and finally takes off his shirt the rest of the way, finally revealing the god sculpted body that he clearly worked for.

The look on his face says he is going to ruin you and you are going to like it.

Only then, as he begins to work on the zipper to your dress, do you look to your left on the desk and see your keys sitting there...

***************

A/n: Hope that was what you were looking for @thiccgeralt Hope this met your expectations and thank you!

I am thinking of coming back to this, but honestly I am waiting until @laketaj24 finishes her CEO! fic The Rules, because its so freaking wonderful and I don’t want to ruin anything by stealing any thunder with a CEO fic OR Ficlet I would plan on doing. BTW if you haven’t read The Rules then please do yourself a favor a go over to her page and check out all of her work. You will not regret a second of it....

However I am tossing this out to see if there would be any interest in a continuation of this fic. Let me know and as always thank you for reading, re-blogging, and liking!

Henry Cavill Taglist: (OPEN! Let me know if this is something you want on!

@msblkfire84 @magdelen69

#Henry Cavill #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x reader

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duchessfics · 5 years ago

Text

Business and Pleasure Part 4

(https://thefearestwolfsansa.tumblr.com/post/179527034319/medium-billie-dean-howard)

Billie x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): NSFW, Cunninlingus, D/s dynamics, Semi-public sex

Summary: After spending the night with Billie, the reader is still trying to figure out her place in Billie’s world. But she is slowly finding her footing as well as seeing parts of Billie that reveal more than just her smooth smiles and witty remarks.

Word Count: 7351

A/n: I know it’s been awhile since I’ve posted anything, but I promise I’m working on stuff behind the scenes. I just need to actually edit it all 😅 but here’s part 4! I hope you enjoy it 😌

Part 3

The blare of your phone’s alarm drags you out of blissful sleep and you haphazardly reach out to grab your phone, brushing your fingers along the cool, smooth marble surface of nightstand until they bump up against the side of your device. That’s when it registers in your mind dulled by sleep that you and Billie still hold each other close in her wonderful-feeling bed. She inhales deeply as you wince and groan at the bright light of your phone screen working to turn off the obnoxiously loud alarm.

Then she snuggles closer into your chest and mumbles against your neck, “What time is it?” Too early. You would love to stay where you are nestled. But you start to untangle from her embrace before you fall back asleep as you murmur, “It’s time for me to get up. But you keep sleeping. I’ll wake you up in a bit. Ok?”

The medium lazily reaches out for you and manages to grip your arm, but you press a soothing kiss to her forehead and retuck the covers around her while whispering, “Get some sleep. I’ll be back in a little bit.” In her drowsy state she easily lets you go and mumbles, “Ok.” And before you even grab your toiletry bag and step into her bathroom you can already hear her deep breaths of sleep in the darkness.

Once the door is shut, you flick on the fluorescent lights and shield your eyes with your hand. After a moment your eyes adjust to the bright setting and you look into the bathroom mirror. Your eyes automatically find the small hickeys on the side of your neck.

You’re definitely going to have to wear your hair down today.

The darkened skin feels sensitive when your fingers skim over it and you find your face flushing as the memories of last night come back to you. Billie is right. She does have a stamina that is unmatched, and you still feel exhausted from having sex far too late into the night.

After assessing the bruises and determining how much concealer you’ll need to use, you unlock your phone to see the time is 5:05 in the morning. You need to be out of the bathroom no later than 6:00. In an effort to stay on time you keep your clock open while rushing through your morning routine.

Fortunately you stay on time and step out to the main bedroom at 6:00 exactly. In the sliver of bathroom light you see your employer snuggled under the plush duvet with her honey-colored hair spilling over the pillow she sleeps on.

Even though you hate to disturb the peacefully sleeping blonde, you turn on the bedside lamp and sit on the edge of the bed before resting your hand on her shoulder. Then you gently shake her and murmur, “Billie, it’s time to wake up.”

She lets out a low groan and makes a big cat-like stretch before opening her eyes and huskily asking, “How much time do I have?” You scoot back a little to encourage her to sit up while answering, “About an hour.”

The medium drowsily sits up and leans back against the cushioned headboard as you assure her, “They’ll do your hair and makeup on set. So at least you don’t have to worry about that.” She reaches her hands up towards the ceiling and doesn’t miss the way your eyes catch on her nearly exposed chest due to the generous v-neck of her stain maroon negligee. And your eyes only shift to watch her her nimble fingers comb through her tousled locks.

While you look to her face she smiles at you and teases, “Can I at least get a good morning kiss?” You chuckle, shaking your head at her mischievous behavior. But seeing her look so attractive and sleepy from just waking up leads you to relent, “Ok, One kiss.” Those words make her smirk and she leans forward to meet you halfway. Her lips lazily move against yours and you feel her hands come up to cup your face. But when you go to back up, her lips chase yours and her hands keep a solid grip on your face.

You squeak in shock and manage to back up enough to mumble against her lips, “Billie.” But she quickly silences your words and shifts to her knees, so she towers over you. The now significant height difference complicates things. However you bring your hands up to her shoulders and go to push her away before your resolve melts and you run late.

But before you can move against the medium, she breaks from your lips to kiss along your jaw and neck well aware of how her lips on the sensitive skin of your neck can turn you into melted butter in her hands.

Your hands reflexively squeeze her shoulders as she keeps going and it takes everything in you to not moan. And even then your voice sounds strained when you plead, “Billie, you need to get ready or we’re gonna—”

But your sentence is cut short by your own laughter when her lips suck and tease that one ticklish spot in the bend of your neck. Before last night you never even knew about that spot. But Billie found it and has teased it ever since. She keeps going and chuckles against your skin as you beg between your laughter, “Billie, please...please don’t! You know how—ah! Ticklish I am…come on Billie! Have mercy on me!”

Thankfully she listens to your cries and moves to press one soft kiss to the shell of your ear before purring, “Sorry, sweetheart. But your laugh is just too cute.” Then she backs up and briefly pecks your lips before asking, “What time will the driver be here?” Your chest heaves as you catch your breath and your cheeks burn in arousal as you whimper, “7:00.” The blonde grins at your flustered state and teases with a smug smirk, “Well I guess I should start getting ready then.”

You watch her push aside the remaining covers off of herself and start to slide towards the bed’s edge, completely dumbfounded. However she pauses to peck your cheek and taunts with her innocent voice, “Oh, and you may need to conceal those hickeys again. That’s my bad.”

Your hand reflexively comes up to cover the love marks and you gasp, cheeks flaming as you look to Billie who grins at your embarrassment. Then she stands up and you watch her hips sway as she walks to the bathroom while saying, “I’ll see you at 7:00, sweetheart.” And when she turns back to shut the door, she gives you a flirtatious wink before disappearing.

For a moment you sit in shock at all that just happened in less than 5 minutes. You may have had control yesterday, but Billie easily took the reins back and you’re once again just trying to keep up. In the next hour you pack a bag of anything Billie may need for today before gathering your own belongings and stowing them away in your car…

By 7:00 you’re on your way to the TV studio and you pull out your phone as you ask what Billie would like for breakfast. The blonde automatically nibbles on the tips of her acrylic nails in thought while looking out the window. However she stops almost as soon as she starts, still working on amending that nasty habit she has dealt with since childhood. Instead Billie busies her hands with adjusting her designer sunglasses as she answers, “I’ll take a breakfast sandwich with eggs and bacon, an iced coffee with an extra shot of espresso and almond milk, and a cup of water too.”

After you type her order into your notes app you ask, “Do you want it from any specific place?” Her fingers flick as if she has an imaginary cigarette and she tells you to go to a local restaurant close to the studio.

Once all of that’s sorted, you open your calendar app and tell her, “The schedule for today isn’t terribly busy. You’ll be filming from 8 in the morning to 3 in the afternoon and that includes an hour lunch break and time for hair and makeup. Then you have a meeting with your producers at 4:30. It shouldn’t be too long. They’re mainly talking about plans for the next two weeks and the anticipated viewing numbers. After that you’ll go home and Candice will be there to give you a fresh set of acrylic nails. While you’re getting that done, I’ll give Jared your order and he will be cooking dinner so when you're finished it’s fresh for you to eat.”

After reading through the itinerary, you look up from your phone to see Billie staring out the window with her chin resting on the hand of her arm that’s propped up on the window ledge. Even though you said the schedule isn’t too hectic, you know this will be a long day and try to soothe, “After that you’ll be free as a bird.” The blonde lets out a sound of amusement but doesn’t smile or have a witty comeback.

But in the next moment she snaps out of it and turns to face you with a smirk on her lips, asking, “What color should I pick?”

What in the world is she talking about?

Your brows furrow at her question and you slowly answer, “Color? I-I’m not sure what you mean.” The response makes her chuckle and she replies, “For my nails.” You’re confused at this comment too. Billie only does red nails. However, rather than questioning her again, you look down and fiddle with your seatbelt as you cautiously reply, “Oh…well your red color is nice.”

But your movements still when she leans closer so it looks like she’s showing you her nails. Then she murmurs so only you can hear,

“I want better than ‘nice.’ I want something fierce, something sexy.” And she leans even closer to whisper,

“Something domineering that makes you wet just looking at it.”

Your eyes widen and you look to her, hissing, “Billie!” She laughs at how easily flustered you get and backs away to where she was while casually asking, “Do you have any ideas, sweetheart?” Her layered suggestions cause your face to burn. Meanwhile your employer doesn’t seem fazed at all. So you try to pull yourself together, clearing your throat and shifting in your seat as you reply with a strained voice, “Not at the moment.”

Your bashful demeanor makes her smile and she innocently suggests, “Well, how about you think about it and tell me tonight.” Your eyes dart to the driver, wondering if they are picking up on anything going on in the backseats. But if they are, they show no sign, looking forward and seemingly focused on navigating LA’s traffic. So you return your gaze to the medium and answer, “Ok.”

After getting Billie to the TV studio and setting her up with hair and makeup, you nearly run to the breakfast place she requested and purchase her breakfast. Then you return as fast as you can without spilling her drinks that are in your hands.

By the time you get back to the set the blonde is nearly done with her hair and makeup, but she eats her sandwich and drinks her two beverages as they work. When she’s finished you throw away her trash and less than a half hour later the cameras are rolling on Billie.

The medium looks all done up with her freshly blown out curls and immaculate makeup. She wears a fashionable outfit made up of a cream-colored tea dress with blue-green flowers printed all over it and heels that are nearly the same color as her bronzed legs. You remember her mentioning something about wanting her legs to look elongated, so the stylist suggested the choice. And let’s just say, her legs look excellent in your opinion. Between getting powdered and having her hair and clothes adjusted, Billie does multiple takes promoting her TV show and the channel.

In the middle of her filming, your phone vibrates in your pocket and you pull it out to see it’s her manager. So you step out of the working area and answer their call.

Instead of going through the formalities of greeting you, they cut to the chase and say, “Listen, I pulled a couple strings, made a few phone calls and got Billie a spot on the tonight show this Friday.” You gasp in shock and nearly drop the phone while stammering, “You—You mean the tonight show…with Jimmy Fallon?” Her manager laughs and replies, “Yeah, kid. Who else? You got what you wanted. I’ll let you tell Billie the news since it was your idea.”

You’re speechless in surprise at this whole thing, to the point that the manager asks, “You still there?” Coming back to your senses, you nod your head and quickly answer, “Yeah. Sorry about that. Thank you so much for looking into it. I’m sure she’ll be ecstatic.”

So they tell you the details of when to be there and what to expect and you write everything down in your notebook, making sure you have every detail right. Just as you jot down the last bits of information, you hear the director call for a lunch break. So you gather your stuff together while explaining, “I gotta go. They just called for lunch and I still have to get hers, but I want to thank you for everything, and I’ll make sure to tell her everything.” So they say a quick goodbye and you dash over to the spread of lunch food, grabbing some of Billie’s favorite items in addition to a cup of water.

When you have everything, you see Billie’s eyes scanning the group of people looking for you, so you make a small wave with your hand holding her silverware to get her attention. Her eyes light up in recognition and she walks over with her pleasant but artificial smile she uses while working. However when she gets closer she looks around the room while softly asking, “Can you get somewhere quieter to have my lunch?”

As an experienced personal assistant you’re used to requests like this. So even though you have no plan of action yet, you automatically nod and answer, “Of course.” Then you go to walk away, but the blond gently takes your upper arm and murmurs, “I can hold my lunch, sweetheart.”

That makes you look back to her and ask, “Are you sure? I really don’t mind—”

But she softly shushes you and takes the plate, silverware, and beverage. So you give an affirmative nod and say, “I’ll have something in a minute.” Now she gives you a more genuine smile and you run off to find a private place for her to eat.

A couple conversations later, you are holding the door open for Billie to enter one of the smaller, but quiet unused dressing rooms. After closing the door, the blonde lets out a sigh of relief at the privacy and walks over to sit in the cushioned chair where someone would normally get their hair and makeup done.

Rather than facing the mirror, she turns around to face you so the mirror reflects her honey-blonde hair. Once she’s settled you ask her, “Do you need anything else?” Billie takes a seductive bite of the strawberry she holds, and when she takes the fruit away you see a slight tint of red on her lips. Your eyes then trail down to her neck as she swallows and you can’t help but lick your own lips wishing you were the strawberry she so delicately savors. All this time the medium looks up to you with doe eyes and when she finishes her bite she purrs, “I can think of a couple things.”

You’re sure she can ‘think of a couple things.’

You let a smile slip at her seductive insinuation and answer, “No.” Your response makes her lower lip jut out and she looks through her darkened lashes while pouting, “No fun.” Now you chuckle at her shameless flirting and shake your head while telling her, “Still no. But I have something to tell you.”

She perks up at that statement and asks, “What is it?” You can’t conceal your grin as you reply, “Your manager called while you were filming and said they got you a place on the tonight show this Friday.”

Now she smiles with you and exclaims, “Are you serious? That will be amazing publicity. You’re sure it’s legit?” You nod, giggling as you answer, “Yeah. Your manager told me all of the details. You’re gonna be on the Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon!”

Your happiness is contagious and Billie laughs with you before saying, “Thank you for pushing them to do it even when they didn’t want to consider it.”

Your cheeks warm at her compliment and you find yourself looking to the floor as you reply, “You’re welcome.” After a moment you venture to look up and aren’t surprised to see her dark brown eyes looking over you. You have gotten used to the feeling...somewhat, and pull out your notebook before keeping eye contact for too long. Then you explain the main details while she eats.

When Billie finishes up her light lunch she rolls her shoulders back and sighs, “I don’t know if it’s because I haven’t filmed in awhile or something else, but I’m glad we don’t have much more to do. I feel so…tense.” The admission catches you off guard simply because she is not one to complain. However it’s in that moment a devilish idea pops into your head.

What if you could help her relax a little? People say an orgasm can relieve stress and tension. Should you offer to do that? No. But would it be amazing? Yes. No! Y/n L/n, no you need to be professional and rational—

“I think I could help you feel less tense.” You blurt out before gasping at the words that left your mouth and bringing your hand up to cover your mouth so you don’t say any other foolish thing. The medium looks up to you with a raised eyebrow and smirks at your wide eyes as she inquires, “Do you now?” Her lower voice makes your knees weak and you slowly take your hand away.

Originally you planned to use your own sultry voice. Instead you weakly squeak, “Yeah.” before sinking down to your knees.

Her darkened eyes follow your descent and she asks, “And just what do you think you’re doing, sweetheart?” You kneel beside her legs and the luxe material of her dress brushes against you. Then you do your best to look up through your own lashes as you shyly tease, “I thought I could help you...release some tension. And I won’t even mess up your makeup.”

However the moment of bravery ends and your gaze falters when you stutter, “U-unless you don’t want to. Which is totally fine as well--”

Billie softly shushes you and brings one of her hands down to cup your cheek. You automatically lean into her soft, inviting touch and she chuckles in amusement before murmuring, “I would love nothing more. Do you think 10 minutes is enough though?”

Your cheeks burn with arousal at the challenge and you nibble on your bottom lip as you nod. So the blonde sets her plate to the side where makeup would normally go and pulls her skirt up just enough for you to get up under it.

Let’s hope you didn’t overestimate your skills.

You look up to her shadowed face as you slowly kiss up the inside of one of her legs. She easily relaxes into your touch and watches you disappear under her skirt. However when you continue to press light kisses, she leans back and sighs with a smirk, “Don’t take too long with your foreplay, sweetheart. We wouldn’t want you to get caught in such a compromised posi—Fuck y/n!”

You giggle at her reaction and Billie can feel the vibration of your face since your face is suddenly buried in her folds. Rather than going through the trouble of removing her panties, you hold them to the side and lick at every part of her your tongue can reach. Her skirt obscures your vision so you can’t see her face, but the way her thighs clench up around your head and she breathily moans you would be surprised if she lasted 5 minutes.

Because you’re short on time and you really don’t want to be caught like this, as soon as you find her clit you latch onto it sucking and nibbling at a relentless pace. However she tenses up a little at the intensity and whimpers, “Jesus Christ, sweetheart, you’re gonna kill me if you keep going that hard.”

Her unusually higher tone makes you slow down a little and when your lips and tongue decide to play nicer she lets out a sigh, spreading her legs once again and relaxing further into the chair.

While the medium can’t slide her hand over your hair she uses her hands to keep her skirt out of your way while murmuring in that low voice you love, “Good girl.” And you smile against her, practically squeaking in pleasure at the praise. She chuckles at your reaction to her words of affirmation, however her voice dies off when you hear a group of crew members laughing and talking as they pass the room.

Holy fucking shit.

Billie must sense you tensing up because she soothes, “You still got 7 minutes, baby. Go ahead and give me everything you got. I can take it.” So you take a deep breath to get back in the zone and speed up your movements while her body twitches and shudders in arousal.

Within seconds her thighs spasm around your head and she lets out muffled moans, trying to keep quiet by covering her mouth with the back of her hand. There is a part of you right now that feels pretty proud of making her moan and whimper so much. However, you also know time is of the essence so you don’t tease her too much after her orgasm like you did to her last night. But you do take the time to lap up her arousal with your tongue before replacing her panties and backing up.

Upon coming out from under her skirt you see the blonde’s cheeks are naturally flushed and her chest heaves as she catches her breath. Seeing her so blissed makes you grin and after licking her excess arousal off of your lips, you ask, “Feel less tense?”

Billie gives you a breathy laugh and murmurs in her warm, rich tone, “Far less tense. You’re such a dear to me, Y/n.” Your whole body warms at her praise and while she smooths her skirt down you stand up and readjust your clothing and hair to where they were before replying, “You deserve it.”

Now you’re the one who has to look down to keep eye contact and for a moment you silently watch each other. Billie’s milk chocolate colored orbs scan over you, but it isn’t the same feeling as when she looked over you earlier. Instead of lust clouding her eyes, something else does, but you can’t tell what it is.

Then Billie goes to tell you something when someone knocks at the door before opening it a crack and peeking their head in.

The production assistant looks to Billie and quickly says, “Sorry for interrupting, but they want you back on set in 5.” She gives them her trademark friendly smile and smoothly replies, “Of course. I’ll be out in a minute.” Then the PA leaves you two alone.

After the door closes, the medium looks to you and teases with a grin, “That was close.”

Yeah. Too close. What the hell were you thinking?!

You give a nervous half-laugh in return and nod in response because the surprise of someone walking in left your throat completely dry. Then you walk over to take her empty plate and cup. Billie stands up as well, but before she walks out the door, she comes up to peck your lips and gives you a knowing wink while purring, “I owe you one.” Immediately you shake your head and stammer, “No, really. T-that’s ok. I’m good—”

But she places a finger on your lips, effectively silencing you and repeating with an arched brow, “Y/n I owe you one. No ifs, ands, or buts. Do you understand me?” Her dominant tone makes your insides melt into submission and you nod. She smiles at your agreement and pulls her finger away while saying, “Good. I’ll talk to you in a bit.” You nod again, still unable to form a coherent sentence and just like that she is gone once more.

Billie continues to film, sharing exclusive behind the scenes tidbits and making some additional promo work for the TV channel. And without prompting the director comments on how the medium seems to be glowing. Thank god she can’t see your face as you swallow your giggles by taking a drink of your second iced coffee.

Meanwhile she just smiles and throws out some random excuse. By 3:00 they wrap and she changes back into her own clothes. Then you make the short drive to the network's corporate offices and go up to one of the conference rooms filled with multiple producers and their own assistants.

You always dread these meetings because you find the producers to be pretty intimidating. However, Billie always has a natural ease and is never dissuaded by their slighted offers. She can be just as stubborn and hard-headed, if not more so.

You keep notes for her while they speak about different topics including the predicted number of viewers for the season’s premier and publicity for it. That’s when the medium announces, “My assistant actually informed me today that I have a spot on the tonight show Friday night. So that’s another opportunity for publicity.”

For a moment everyone looks at you and you would like nothing more than to duck under the table and hide. Instead you give a small smile and they all move on. But even that small moment is enough to send adrenaline coursing through you.

After going through additional upcoming interviews and events, the head producer tells her that they hired a publicity manager to help her and that they will call her after each event to make sure she’s on the right track and in the good graces of the public. Billie scoffs at that idea and asks, “Is that really necessary? I mean, my assistant has that covered.”

When answering the head producer looks to you when he says, “With all due respect,” then his eyes return to Billie’s and he continues, “This individual’s specialty is publicity. They know all the things that draw people in, how to work the crowd, and even the most effective posture to maintain during interviews.”

For a second the blonde’s fingers twitch in her desire to nibble her nails while thinking. Instead she settles for tapping the tips of them on the glass tabletop as she relents with a labored sigh, “Fine.” The producers go on to speak about tentative future plans and contracts with Billie, but don’t make any decisions yet. First her show has to perform well.

By the end of the hour, the medium is saying her goodbyes so you step out and text Candice about coming over saying you’ll be home in an hour. Then you and Billie head to the car and her driver takes you to her house.

On the car ride there she leans her head back against the plush, leather seat and closes her eyes before asking, “Did you think of a color yet, sweetheart?” Because her eyes are closed, you allow yourself to look at her hand that rests on the middle cushion and you would like nothing more than to hold it with your own.

But you turn away to ignore the desire and look out the window as you answer, “This isn’t too different, but I think pink would look good. Not like a barbie or bubblegum pink color, but a baby pink. The pastel color would suit your undertone. If you wanted something outside of the red spectrum you could try ivory or chartreuse. The colors you see in nature are generally well-suited to…”

But you cut yourself off and look down to your hands resting on your lap as you apologize, “Sorry, I was rambling.”

Billie had opened her eyes as you spoke and didn’t miss the spark of excitement in your eyes when watching your reflection in the window. You miss her smile at your words, and she soothes, “It’s no problem, Y/n. Actually I found it interesting.”

That prompts you to look over to see she smiles at you. And not that artificial one that she wears more often than not. No, this is a genuine smile where her dimples are prominent, and her eyes have an unusually warm and vulnerable tone.

Your cheeks warm at the undivided attention and you find yourself looking down to the seat’s cushions as you reply, “Thanks.” When you do venture to look up, the blonde gives you a wink and much cheekier smile. But the same genuine nature of her eyes remains and you can’t help but smile back. Both of you stay quiet the rest of the ride going between looking out the window and sneaking glances at the other.

Now that the day is wrapping up you have time to appreciate her peach-colored knee length pencil skirt that nearly matches the approaching sunset and her ivory silk blouse that buttons up the front. But she keeps the top one undone. Today she doesn’t wear her string of pearls, but does have pearl stud earrings on. And of course she wears her trademark jasmine perfume.

When you get to Billie’s home Candice is already there and greets Billie before whisking her away to the sunroom. However, before you can head to the kitchen, the medium calls out your name and curls her finger in a beckoning motion. So you dutifully follow the pair but keep back a little to give personal space.

Once you step in the room both women sit on either side of the portable nail station and Billie looks to the nail tech before asking, “Candice, honey, do you happen to have any light pink nail polishes on you?” Her brows furrow at the question, but she looks down to rummage through her kit while answering, “I think I’ve got a couple options.” And she takes out 4 bottles in various shades of light pink. Then Billie looks at you and asks, “Ok Y/n, which one would suit me best?”

Your eyes widen and you reflexively take a step back while stuttering, “M-miss Howard I’m not the one to ask. I’m sure Candice knows more than me.” The blonde lets out a low chuckle and she looks to Candice before speaking in a soft tone as if sharing a secret but loud enough for you to hear, “She’s always so formal.”

The nail tech smiles, and Billie returns her gaze to you before saying, “Hypothetically which one would you choose? Just for shits and giggles.” In working with Billie for nearly a year you are very aware of how stubborn she is. So instead of trying to resist, you take a couple tentative steps forward.

Then you look to Candice and softly ask, “May I pick them up to see them closer?” She chuckles at your timid behavior and replies, “Of course. Knock yourself out sweetie.” You smile and whisper thank you before cautiously picking up the bottles and looking them over in the evening glow pouring in from the expansive windows. As you closely observe them, the two women share a smile at your soft demeanor which is very uncommon in Los Angeles.

After a moment you carefully set each one down, but keep one separate as you say, “I think this one would be most complimentary for your undertone.” But you quickly sputter out, “But that’s just my opinion.”

Billie picks up your choice of polish and says, “I’ll use this one.” Automatically you open your mouth to protest, but after seeing Billie give you a stern look with a raised eyebrow as if challenging you to say something you clear your throat in an attempt to cover up your original sentiment and ask, “What would you like for dinner?”

Her teeth worry her lower lip for a moment and when she releases it you try to not stare at her pouty lips as she replies, “I’ll take grilled chicken and some kind of vegetable. He can pick.” Before you can do anything else that’s stupid you nod and assure her, “I’ll let him know.” Then you make your way to the kitchen to give the order to her personal chef.

As he cooks dinner you sit at the breakfast nook and catch up on the emails, phone calls, and texts for Billie so she doesn’t have to go through what can be up to 100 or more emails on a daily basis. And just about the time Jared is finished cooking, Billie saunters in with a familiar smirk on her lips.

She murmurs a warm greeting to the chef before her eyes zero in on you and she strolls over to the breakfast nook. In response you scoot over to let her in and tell her, “I’ve responded to any phone calls or emails you had. So you’re free for the night.” The blonde gives you a smile and murmurs, “Thank you, Y/n.”

Do not let one thank you ruin your composure. Keep calm, cool, and collected.

You give her your practiced smile back and reply, “You’re welcome.” Then the chef brings over two plates of her dinner choice and after pouring Billie a glass of red wine that compliments tonight’s meal and getting you a glass of water you both thank him. Of course he replies you’re welcome with a smile primarily directed towards his employer. And as you both eat dinner he collects the dirty dishes he used to cook and begins to wash them. However when you see the medium’s hand that holds her fork you notice she doesn’t wear acrylics. In fact her pale pink nails are filed down to a smooth rounded tip.

The observation makes you pause and comment, “Your nails…you don’t have acrylics on.” Now she stops eating and looks at you with a wicked grin as she smoothly replies, “I thought I could let my nails have a break. Plus they were getting in the way of…daily activities.”

Your eyes reflexively dart over to the sink where the chef washes the dishes. But he doesn’t pay attention. In fact he may not have even heard. So you return your gaze to Billie’s and her golden eyes gleam with mischief.

Well you must mean something to her. She doesn’t just take off her acrylic nails for anyone. Actually this may be the first time you’ve seen her without them on.

Your face feels hot at her explanation and you clear your throat only to squeak, “Oh.” It’s at that moment the tap water stops running making you both look to see the chef drying his hands. Then he looks to Billie and says, “I put the leftovers in the fridge and the soap is already in the dishwasher so all you have to do is put your dishes in and press start. Do you need anything else?” She gives him her trademark smile and replies, “I think we’re good. Thank you so much Jared. Have a good night.”

His eyes flicked over to you when she said ‘we’ and even you are taken aback by your inclusion. For the most part, a personal assistant is a shadow of their superior. A helpful shadow, but a shadow nonetheless. However both of you keep quiet. You’re not about to correct your boss and he isn’t either. So he gives the medium a smile and tells her good night before gathering his things and walking out.

Once he’s out of the room, Billie snakes her arm around your waist and pulls you as close to her as possible. Being tucked into her side fills you with a warm feeling of safety and security that you haven’t really felt before. Or at least not in a long time. Her heat radiates through the layers of both of your clothes and you’re tired of resisting what you truly desire. So you let out the breath of resistance you’ve made yourself hold since the car ride home and relax into her.

Anytime you’re wrapped up in Billie’s embrace, she no longer feels like your employer, but a lover. And the burden on your chest of keeping professional is alleviated if only for a moment. She hums in approval when you lean into her and you feel the reverberation of her sound within yourself as if you’re one. At the same time her thumb casually brushes up and down your side in a steady motion.

You look to her face, studying her profile as she drinks the rest of her wine and sets down the glass. Then the blonde turns to you so your faces nearly touch, and she unabashedly looks to your lips with sultry hooded eyes.

Just having her undivided attention drives you wild and you whimper in need making her let out that wonderfully low chuckle of amusement. As she presses her lips against yours you end up getting a taste of her wine and the flavor layers perfectly with her already sweet taste. You let her lead, twisting your body towards her so your chest rests against hers and in the process your hand comes up to cup the side of her face.

Her lips smile against yours at the tender touch, provoking you to smile too. And the tips of your fingers lightly thread through her silky locks, but you stay gentle today and don’t tug at her.

Billie is the one to break the long-lasting kiss and both of her arms wrap around your middle so you feel her hands on the small of your back and she pulls you closer so you’re flush against her body. Then the tip of her nose brushes against the tip of yours while she whispers, “Stay the night.”

You would love to. God you want to stay so, so much. But you haven’t packed anything at all and you’re flying to New York City tomorrow.

So you close your eyes and go against everything you desire as you whisper, “I-I have to pack for New York. I’m sorry Billie.” She gently shushes your plea for understanding by pecking your lips and her thumbs make small circles against the small of your back. Then she gently soothes, “It’s ok sweetheart. We’ll have plenty of time to catch up in New York.”

Her forehead feels comforting against yours and you venture to open your eyes. However you bite your lip and rasp, “Y-you’re not mad at me, right?” The question makes Billie hug you closer and give your cheek a comforting kiss before answering, “No. I would never be upset at that.” Then she leans in to place feather-light butterfly kisses along your cheek while saying, “Ok?”

Her concern and touch relieves your nerves and you nod while whispering, “Ok.” After your soft affirmation the medium pulls back enough for you to see her beautiful smile. You smile back and feel warmth blossom in your chest when she purrs, “There’s that gorgeous smile.”

Then she lets you backup a little so you can breathe. Even though you turn your head away from Billie to finagle your phone out of your pocket, your body stays close as you tell her, “There’s a couple things to go over before I leave.” Billie’s lips move to rest against your temple and her voice vibrates against your skin as she murmurs, “Fire when ready.”

You smile at her comment and look down to your screen before saying, “You’re personal trainer will be here at 7:30 for a 60 minute session so you’ll have enough time for a—”

But you pause as her lips start to make a slow and deliberate descent down the side of your face and ask, “Are you paying attention?” The medium smiles against your jawline and replies between gentle kisses, “Of course.”

In an attempt to get her attention, you turn to face her effectively removing her lips from your flushed skin and ask, “Then what did I say?” She comes back up to peck your lips and answers between small kisses, “Personal trainer is coming. 7:30. 60 minutes.”

After the last peck you respond with narrowed eyes, “Ok.” Then you turn back to look at your phone. Billie takes the opportunity to start kissing down your chin and along your jawline as you try to keep on task when saying, “Because your session ends at 8:30, you’ll be able to take a quick shower.”

However you pause again when Billie’s lips start to travel down to your neck, sucking at your sensitive spots like no one else can.

And before you can even ask she pauses to murmur against your skin, “I’m listening, sweetheart.” The reverberation of her words sends shivers down your spine and your voice is weak and shaky as you continue, “But don’t take too long because your driver—Ah! Wait Billie not again!”

The blonde laughs against that one ticklish spot before teasing, “The driver what?” You squirm to get away, but she easily keeps you pinned up against her as you giggle and plead for her to stop. In response Billie says against that sensitive spot, “Finish your sentence and I’ll stop.” Your eyes get misty from laughing so hard and you whimper, “The driver—ah, Billie!—will be here—No! Please! They’ll be here at 9! Ok!”

Finally she grants you reprieve and backs up to look at you with a wicked grin, cupping your heated face with her hands while you gasp for air. But she doesn’t give you a long break, skimming her thumbs along your flushed cheekbones as she taunts, “You seem so tense, y/n. But I think I know a way to help you out.”

You’re sure she does know a way to ‘help you out.’

Before you decide to stay here for the night and forget this trip altogether, you breathily plead, “I’ve got to pack.” The blonde smiles at your voice and pats your cheek while mimicking your innocent tone from earlier today, “Oh don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll be 10 minutes tops.” Now you chuckle at your own idea from earlier being used against you. By now you can actually breathe and whimper, “Billie—”

But she kisses your lips and purrs, “I owe you from earlier.” Then she moves to place her hands on your shoulders before gently pushing you to lay back on the cushioned bench.

Of course you could totally stop her at any point if you wanted to, but her methods of seduction worked and the only thought that crosses your lust-clouded mind is how good Billie Dean Howard’s tongue is going to feel on your already soaked pussy.

Once you’re completely laying down you tell her in what should be a stern voice but sounds more like a moan, “Only 10 minutes.” By then the medium is already undoing your pants but pauses to look at you with a devilish grin as she replies, “Oh baby, you’ll be lucky to make it 5 minutes.”

Part 5

Tagged: @marilynroselleprentiss, @saviorinsilk, @chokemepaulson, @versonstar, @find-me-a-constellation, @cordwliagoode, @psychobitchtess, @midnight-lestrange, @mysweetdelia, @venablesbitch, @peachesandlesbians, @nerdaroo, @cordeliafoxxe, @leskaksel, @lovelymspaulson, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @whatabluddymess, @natasha-danvers, @saucy-sapphic, @marvelfansince08love

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in later works!

#AHS #ahs fanfic #ahs imagine #ahs murder house #ahs hotel #ahs apocalypse #ahs billie dean howard #billie dean howard #billie dean howard imagine #billie x reader #Business And Pleasure

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tundrainafrica · 4 years ago

Text

Title: A Tale of Two Slaves (5/17)

Summary: “Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn’t exist. Everything is a choice.” At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him.“

Reincarnation AU. Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn’t.

Note: Feedback is very much appreciated.

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 6 7 8

Link to cross-postings: AO3

The stitches on Levi’s knees had been removed long ago. A scab formed soon after though --- or to be specific--- a bunch of small scabs from the smaller wounds that had formed conglomerates on his knees.

Levi was tempted to pick at them. The nurse had mentioned something about infections and had explicitly ordered him not to do just that. His coach rode on that theory soon after and Levi found himself spending a good amount of energy just keeping up the self control.

Some had fallen in time but what remained where parts of the scab that were embedded more deeply into the wounds and the beginnings of ugly scars on both his knees.

Most days, he could ignore it. In fact, he had forgotten they existed for a good long while, especially when he had more important things occupying his mind: Hange’s research, school work and the upcoming track and field season.

The upcoming season was the biggest problem at hand. And that was the one problem that had brought the glaring wounds in his knees back to the spotlight. Levi had been too preoccupied with Hange to have even noticed that during the weeks following his injury, his coach had given him a lighter regimen.

It was late afternoon on Sunday, a few hours after he had arrived back on campus from Hange’s place. It was just him and his coach in the middle of the oval and his coach looked more than ready to whip Levi into shape.

They had just gotten the schedule for the season and their first event was the high jump. As expected, his coach had assigned him to that event. He was the record holder last year after all.

That was last year though. Levi thought to himself as he slowly got up after his eighth failed jump of the night. He was sure he was not out of shape. In fact, he always spent more time in the oval when they were on their off season. It wasn’t supposed to be so hard to reproduce the championship winning jumps he was lauded for being so consistent in.

That night, Levi could not clear it. He was shorter than most high jumpers and it was expected that naturally, he would not get a good height above the bar. He never did anyway, usually just missing the bar by a few centimeters or even millimeters. Regardless, he consistently cleared heights despite the lack of distance he was able to generate between him and the bar. And that consistency was the reason why Levi never considered the height a problem until it was right in front of him. He should have known though that if there were only a few millimeters separating him and the bar, then any small detail could be enough to throw him off.

His mind was racing when he considered the culprit. Was it the exhaustion that was slowly creeping into him? It shouldn’t have been that. Levi had found ways to work past it before. Was it the nervousness? The pressure? Then why had he performed so well before?

Levi went through the movements again, that time not focusing on how to clear the height but on the different sensations that coursed through his body. As he positioned himself to jump up right next to the bar, he picked it out. It manifested as dull pain at first, something he would barely have given a second thought to if it were any other day. As he launched himself up, it protested painfully the quick extension of his knee.

Was it the scab? Levi landed painfully on the bar that had dislodged from its place. That was definitely going to leave a bruise.

“You okay?”

Levi felt his coach’s hand on his arm as he was guided gently into a standing position..

“That’s enough for today.” His coach’s tone was light yet slow and careful. Levi sensed the disappointment in it.

As Levi went for his bag, he went through the different motions of walking a little more slowly, taking note of any restrictions in his movement. The main one turned out to be the scab, that would protest as he extended it. It was not too much of an issue when he was still going through the lighter drills. The two meter bar was his newest challenge and in a few weeks he needed to be able to clear it easily.

He had considered telling his coach about the wound, quickly shooting down the idea when he realized he would rather not lighten his training load soon with the first event of the season just a few weeks away.

That night in bed, he allowed himself a few minutes to look over the scab. It was brown and ugly. As he ran his hand through it, he was surprised to find out that although it was particularly thick, pushing it further aggravated the pain. Levi made a few experimental scratches on it before realizing that it was still too connected to the wound beneath. Not wanting to risk any infections though which the nurse and his coach had so conscientiously explained to him, Levi sat back on the bed and distracted himself browsing whatever was on his phone.

He did a quick google search on it. The scab should fall out eventually. He opened his messages on Instagram to see Hange had replied to the video he had sent with a video of her own.

Kostornaia Triple Axel.

I like Axels better

Levi ended up watching a video on basic figure skating jumps before even replying to Hange. For some reason, he didn’t want her to think he was ignorant.

Hange was right. The axel jump was impressive. The only figure skating jump with a forward take off. Levi found himself going through the mechanics the next morning when he was alone in the oval 30 minutes before training was supposed to start.

The jumps definitely required momentum from the glide, similar to the moment he would get running towards the bar before a high jump.

The axel is one of the hardest jumps in skating because it is difficult to get the rotations from a forward take off.

The force from the twist is generally a good source of momentum. Probably one of the reasons why most high jumpers jumped the way they did. In high jump events, jumping from a forward position was generally allowed but most high jumpers launched themselves from behind due to the higher amount of force that could be channeled from that. As a little experiment to placate his own curiosity, and maybe to even give Hange something to ponder on, Levi jumped forward, similarly to what he had seen in the axel video.

As expected, within a few seconds Levi was face down on the ground, next to the bar he had snagged on the way down.

The fall was as painful and probably a little more embarrassing than his own falls the night before, even with his coach watching then. Levi could not even imagine how ridiculous he looked.

At least no one was there to see him fall. Levi allowed himself a long look at the sky above him as he went through the movements in his head. He could easily just repeat the same jump. He eventually decided against it though as he realized it caused unnecessary pain, it was an injury risk and for sure it would be embarrassing if one of his teammates caught him in the act of reproducing a figure skating jump on the field. The forward take off was far from efficient but somehow it felt nostalgic. It felt inefficient yet intimate, an incompetent old friend.

In his dreams, Levi was taking off, flying forward in a similar pattern. It was a mixture of possibly cables and gas that had kept him afloat then. How exactly the gas and the cables work, he couldn't completely understand. For sure there was nothing similar where he lived, maybe the closest was a plane.

Either way, it was flying and Dream Hange and Real Hange were right. It was fun.

That burst of energy was what got him attempting the high jump again over the two meter bar he had set. He was aware of the whispers as the oval started to fill up with his own teammates.

He could not make out what they were saying but the confusion and possibly disappointment in their tones and in their whispers could only point to one thing. One glaring reality. Levi was unable to clear the two meter jump without dropping the bar.

He did it before. In fact he had cleared a 2.3 meter jump. That achievement was what broke a record and lead the team multiple collegiate championships in the first place.

That training, his coach had decided to focus on other athletes. Levi used that respite to focus on other events: the hurdles, the sprints. The whispers eventually died down as others went to focus on their own regimens. For a while, Levi wondered why he was self conscious in the first place. Before that, he had never really bothered with what everybody else was doing in training.

It's amazing. The amount of balance, core strength and body control to keep your body flexible enough not to hit the bar. The amount of leg strength needed to jump that high. You really must be superhuman.

His best event had always been the high jump. That was why Hange had wanted to work with him in the first place. As Levi reflected on it, he started to realize everyone being disappointed was a painful reminder that with his inability to break his previous records, he would also be disappointing Hange.

As usual, Levi stayed thirty minutes after practice to attempt the high jump multiple times, finding solace in the fact at least that everyone had left for their first classes that day. After failing every single time, Levi walked back to the bench. He deliberately put more weight on his right knee, a silent yet angry protest against the scab that had made it impossible to completely extend his knee.

He checked his phone. 8:30. His first class was at 10.

Below the time, he saw Hange had left a few messages, all pictures and links according to the banners on his phone. Levi went to settings and turned off the notifications.

A mini game and a well-deserved punishment for himself.

If I can’t meet her expectations, I won’t talk to her until the weekend.

That weekend was when they were slated to meet again. He had five days to jump it.

A Tale of Two Slaves

He didn’t last long.

By the next morning, Levi had given up already on leaving the notifications off. He ended up checking her messages anyway even with the notifications turned off. Declaring that move in particular redundant, Levi turned on notifications and read through all the messages Hange had sent.

They were links to different jumps, the lutz, the toe loop, the salchow, the axel, the loop and the flip. They all looked the same to Levi. The only one that looked any different was the axel he had tried in the oval a few days ago. The rest of the messages were just a long explanation on different figure skating jumps. It was a long rant, with too many terms that even Levi wasn’t aware of.

That was when Levi realized, she may be hard to forget but she was easy to ignore. Especially since he had better things to do than listen to her rant, like train or study.

Levi moved the goalposts of his little game. I’ll open Hange’s messages but I won’t reply until I clear the jump.

By Friday, things were starting to look a little more hopeful. The scab on his knee was starting to peel off. The skin underneath looked a little raw but not at all alarmingly discolored. As he prepared for training that night, he did a few experimental bounces and a few warm up stretches. The raw skin underneath was still resisting the stretches.

“Looks like your wound is looking a little better. You ready to show me your jump?” Greg spoke from behind him.

Was he even ready to jump? Although he had busied himself the past few days practicing it, it was far from something he would be ready to show his coach. In fact, he had not even cleared the two meters at all. As his mind raced for excuses or just the best possible answer to that question, Levi was also reminded of the dull aches and pains all over his body.

He had busied himself that week jumping six hours a day, three hours early in the morning and three hours at night. Exhaustion was something that he was easily able to brush off having grown up an athlete. Fatigue was a different story. Fatigue is a specter that haunts, no matter how healthy, well trained or toned its victim is.

Maybe that was where the hopefulness came from. His body had somehow gotten a little numb and insensible to aches and pains that when the scab had finally fallen enough, he had assumed he would be able to fully extend his leg when necessary. As he ran towards the bar and launched himself up in the air, the scar tissue underneath fought, pulling against his leg. The scar tissue was tight, it was taught and as Levi fell back on the cushion, the bar next to him, Levi could only slam his hand on the bar in frustration.

“Hey, if you’re having trouble we could lower the bar first.”

“No. I just need time to get used to it.” Levi said. A straight-up lie but at that point, Levi didn’t realize it himself.

He did not expect his next few jumps to be chaotic. The bar was falling down next to him more violently every time. A few times it rattled. One time it flew a few meters away. Levi only ever allowed himself a split second to watch the bar react to the force of his jumps before he mechanically got back up again.

His movements had to be mechanical. His head was spinning, his mind was racing. At that moment, he could have attributed his inability to clear it to anything. His stomach was turning. His legs were screaming, his body was aching from constantly hitting the cushion at full force.

He found himself having to catch his breath as he stepped back into the starting line. From his peripherals he could see Elijah running towards the adjacent bar. As soon as he jumped though, Levi had to look away. As guilty it made him feel, Levi still hoped he would hear the sound of metal on metal and the bar clattering on the ground.

Silence, the sound of a body hitting the cushion then cheers.

Levi glanced at the bar Elijah just cleared to see it was set at two meters as well. He found himself dashing towards his own bar before getting his bearings.

He had gone through the same positions for as long as he could remember. It should have been easy. Ironically, Levi found himself more self conscious about how he was supposed to be running as he pictured the speed and the movement at which Elijah had done it from his peripherals. Elijah was a foot taller than him and somehow he knew he had to compensate. He ran faster than necessary, jumped higher than necessary and he curled his body towards the ground at a more dangerous angle as he landed.

The last part was the most dangerous part of the jump.

“Levi!”

Levi only had a split second to react as his head was falling straight towards the ground at an alarming speed. The reflexes that had gotten him to every training and the intuition that had built over the years was enough though and Levi was able to curl his upper body forward, enough to avoid breaking his neck. The speed at which he fell on the cushion though and the way he had bounced and skidded violently on the cushion beneath him brought about an exploding pain on his back and for a second Levi actually thought he broke his back.

As much as he wanted to forget everything and focus on the sky above him, he knew he had to take stock of his injuries. That was the first time he had ever fallen like that. Hell, that was the first time he had ever feared the worse from an injury.

He tested them one by one. His legs were moving like they should. His arms too. Most importantly, there was no pain as he moved his neck from side to side. The pain was all over his back though and Levi was sure that at the least, he had bruised his back badly.

“You’re done for the day.”

“I can try one more.” How many times did he jump? Levi was sure at least not ten. He could have done at least twenty more.

“I said you’re done for the day.” His coach’s tone was something new, the sound of someone scrambling for authority and yet it succeeded.

Levi could not argue. As he walked painfully back to the bench he started to notice the crowd that had gathered next to his training area. He wondered how scary the fall must have looked for a crowd to have gathered nearby and for his coach to have spoken to him like that.

As he sat on the bench, the world started to spin. Levi rested his hand to his forehead only to realize his hand was shaking.

“Hey. Will you at least let me look over your bruises? I just want to make sure nothing is broken.”

Levi found himself fighting back tears. Her voice came as a pleasant surprise yet at the same time, it was the last thing he wanted to hear.

“Why are you here?”

"I just wanted to make sure you were still alive." Hange joked. "You didn't reply to any of my messages."

"I was busy."

"Looks like it."

She went behind him. Levi felt a shudder spider through him as she put her hands on his shoulders.

"Does it hurt?"

Levi could only shake his head. It wasn't pain. Was it surprise? Embarrassment? Either way, it was enough to make Levi sit up a little straighter.

“You cleared the bar at least," Hange said.

"I did?" If Levi wasn't too surprised at the sudden revelation, he probably would have noted the pain as Hange ran her hands around his upper back. At any rate, it was light enough that Levi completely forgot it as he focused on the untouched bar.The one he flew over only a second ago.

Levi allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction, small enough that if anyone saw it, he could easily pretend it never happened.

"Looks like there's nothing broken. But it feels like there's some bruising. Make sure to ice it."

"When I get back to the dorm," Levi answered. He stifled a wince as he felt her fingers climb up his shoulder.

"You have some friction burns around your upper back," Hange explained. "Hey, if you're not up to doing the tests tomorrow, it's fine."

"No, we're pushing through with tomorrow."

"But you're not looking so good. Something tells me that was the only jump you cleared this week."

Levi did not answer.

"Your movements were wilder, chaotic, uncoordinated. Not like the Levi who jumped in the championships." Her tone was playful but to Levi, it sounded like she was mocking him. "Maybe if you read my messages, it would help."

Levi unlocked his phone and opened her messages. He had cleared the jump at least and that was his prize.

"Do you see it?" Hange asked after a few minutes.

Hange's rant was long enough to make Levi's phone lag. Levi blacked out in frustration, not bothering to close read beyond what was right in front of him. A long winded list of the differences between skating jumps and why Hange liked the Axel in particular the best then the Lutz, then the Loop.

"Just say it."

"I noticed when we did the preliminary testing that you get most of your power from your legs." Hange sat next to Levi and look pointedly at his legs. "You're lucky they're strong enough to carry you over the bar. When you're doing a two meter bar, and your legs are slightly injured though, I'm guessing a lot can throw you off. Especially since you generally don’t get much height over the bars when you clear them.

"What does this have to do with skating jumps?"

"If you read why I like the Axel so much as a jump you'd know." Hange looked at him expectantly.

Her eyes were like that of a two month old puppy and Levi felt utterly trapped. Trapped enough at least to read what she had sent him.

An axel jump requires one of the most complex coordinated movements. It's a forward facing jump with no support from a toe pick and little support from a backward rotation.

"So where do you get the power from?" Hange continued.

Levi tensed up. He hadn't noticed that Hange settled on the bench right next to him, having leaned close enough to look over his shoulder and at his phone.

"The hips. The arms. I actually just realized it yesterday but you don't utilize your arms much when you jump, or your hips when you twist. If you did, it could add more power to your jump. Maybe that could fix your jumping problem..."

"Maybe." Levi answered half heartedly, too occupied by the videos Hange had sent to even come up with something more responsive. He had heard what she said but had found it difficult to comprehend from explanation alone. It turned out he had needed something a little more visual and watching the Russian skater in a purple dress go smoothly through the motions of a triple axel made everything much clearer.

He was a track and field athlete and she was a figure skater. But somehow the basic movements were the same, pushing the hips back before thrusting them forward. Moving the hands back before jumping up. Those were the body equivalents of pulling back the leather pad a slingshot before letting go, to further amplify the force of the leg as it pushes the body up and into the air.

And Hange had picked up all the similarities without ever playing any of the sports. It was amazing but at the same time amusing.

"What do you think? Should we try it?" Hange asked.

Levi paused for a moment, taking stock of his situation. His legs were aching and his body was going numb from what could have been exhaustion. He was even starting to reconsider the preliminary tests scheduled for the next day. "We could try it next week." Levi suggested.

It was odd when Hange had stopped talking but Levi did not really think too much about it. That was until he looked up at her. Hange's face was frozen in awe and wonder, as if she was in a daydream. Her eyes were shining yet at the same time, concentrated on one particular object.

Levi only had to follow her line of sight to realize what it was. Picking it out among the crowd of students in the oval was easy. After all, all the athletes had their attention on Elijah who was already picking himself up from the cushion by the time Levi had followed her line of sight to that point.

The crowd exploded into applause. Levi looked back to see Hange was clapping herself, her eyes not moving from the center of the track.

Levi was quick to change his mind after seeing just that. "Hey, four eyes. Let's try it out after training."

It was not odd at all for Levi to stay after training. He was used to it. That night though, he had to sit back and wait for the field to clear before he went back to the place where his bar stood. He waited thirty minutes just in case.

Hange did not have to explain much. She helped polish his form but Levi had his own instinct and his own experience to fill in the gaps.

He did a few light test jumps with the bar set lower, taking note of the freedom of movement that came with the extra thrust of his hips and the extra burst of force which came with having his arm movements pull the jump further upwards.

"Just one jump," Hange said, a worried frown on her face.

He did not need to guess what Hange was seeing. His legs were aching and he was struggling to take deeper breaths.

Last jump of the night. Levi assured himself. He then promised his body one weekend off if he made it. He stood on the starting point again for a few seconds, starting long and hard at the bar set two feet high in front of him.

The arm movements and the hip twists were not unfamiliar. Just like the sensation of launching himself up in the air, the tightening of his muscles and the bending of his back to get over the bar, they were all muscle memory. Where exactly Levi had gotten it, he did not know. Either way, he had won championships with leg power alone. With a lack of opponents, there was no need to improve his technique and he had stuck to using his legs.

Somehow, Hange's suggestion had awakened a new facet of his muscle memory.

Levi ran towards the two meter high bar, making sure to take note of the sensation in his hips and the untapped power in his arm. He positioned himself to launch in the air and in that split second, he did not need to consider where the power came from. Running towards the bar had contributed its own share of momentum and as Levi positioned himself for the jump, his arms had gone mechanically behind his back for a second.

That's where the power is from. Levi realized. He jumped up and noted the thrust of his hip as he twisted himself to a position where his back would be facing the bar. That was where the power from the hips came into play.

Levi was flying. At the same time, he was speeding up.

It should have been a perfect jump. In fact Levi had made some good height between him and the bar below him. If he were going any slower and had the luxury to look to the side he could have seen Hange's look of awe, her mouth agape and her eyes shining in pure excitement.

Levi though had other thoughts. His body was too preoccupied with something else.

Only less than an hour ago, Levi had almost broken his neck with a jump of a much lower speed and a lower height. Although Levi had quickly forgotten it, his body remembered. And when he was a good two and a half feet up in there his body decided to remind him of that particular memory of less than an hour ago.

Suddenly, Levi was terrified. He found himself fighting for some kind of control mid air. The sound of crash of metal hitting flesh then an explosion of pain.

That pain could have been accompanied by another as Levi landed awkwardly on the cold hard ground of the track. Everything he had felt up there in the air though was overwhelming enough and Levi found himself unable to isolate the pain or even trace its origins.

With the little energy and control he could muster, Levi turned his head to look above him. He didn't break his neck at least.

The dark blue sky stretched out in all directions and somewhere above him, he heard the distant screaming from a voice he had come to know so well.

Levi! Can you hear me… I can't deal with this on my own. I'm gonna have to call for help.

#levihan #levi ackerman #hange zoe #levi x hange #levi x hanji

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starlightsearches · 5 years ago

Note

Could you write a modern au, Armitage Hux x Reader oneshot in which Hux is a well respected CEO in the center of Manhattan and the reader is just a barista at a local coffee shop that’s right across from Hux’s building. On an off day Hux is forced to take the bus. He recognizes the reader because he’s gotten coffee from her shop before and decides to start a conversation. He ends up taking the bus more often just to see the reader and she ends up questioning him why. Sorry if that’s so specific.

Sunshine

This is definitely not too specific, and I’m OBSESSED with this concept! Thank you for this request. I have this for you, hope you like it!

This was partially inspired by @amadwomanrambles wonderful CEO! Hux headcanons that you can find here. I also posted my own hcs earlier today about him (here), and I’m such a slut for this au I’ll probably post more!

Requests are closed ✨

CEO! Hux x Barista! Reader Modern AU

Warnings: Pretty much just language! Enjoy 😊

When the interviewer from Forbes Magazine asked Armitage Hux—CEO of First Order Enterprises and one of the youngest millionaires currently residing in New York City—what the secret to his success was, he had a ready response: strict adherence to an optimized routine. Unlike most of the nonsense he was required to prattle on about in those interviews, this was something that he actually believed.

He started each day the same way: wake to an alarm at 5 AM, exercise, shower, breakfast and the news. After that he’d dress for work, check his email, and then wait for his driver to pick him up from his apartment and take him to the office building in Midtown. He’d arrive at work at 6:15 sharp, and he’d stay there until the sun set each evening. It was a good routine. A safe routine. And he wasn’t about to break it for just anything.

Today he didn’t have a choice. His driver called him at 5:30. She was sick. She could call someone else, but they’d be late. Hux told her not to bother; he’d find another way to work. He didn’t mention the queasiness that piqued in his stomach at the mention of another driver. They’d probably try to talk to him, and he’d have to think of something to say. Hux could handle a boardroom, he could handle a press-conference, he could even handle a fundraiser with sufficient preparation. But one-on-one interaction? With a stranger? He avoided it as often as he could.

But then how to get to work? He wouldn’t take a cab, for the same reasons he didn’t want another driver, in addition to the fact that most were terribly dirty. He never took the subway if he could help it. Hux stares down at the streets below, watches as New York City begins to wake. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see a bus stop, only a short distance from the front door of his building. It’s better than walking.

Hux finishes the rest of his morning routine, but there’s little pleasure in it now that he’s been forced to alter it, and his displeasure only deepens after he checks the bus schedule; he’s missed the first one, which means he’ll be late. At least he knows that his coffee won’t be waiting for him, since it’s a Wednesday.

Heat rises in his cheeks whenever Hux thinks about his favorite part of his morning routine. Every day but Wednesday, he gets to spend the last minutes before he walks into work at Pleasant Distraction Coffee, a little shop across the street from the FOE building, and every day but Wednesday, he starts his mornings with you—your smile, the brush of your fingers as you hand him his drink. You always have it ready for him when he walks in the door, and he thinks that you, too, have an appreciation for routine, for order. Not that he can say, for sure. He’s never really talked to you, after all, but he believes that the gesture speaks volumes.

The air is cool and brisk outside his apartment, and he arrives at the bus stop with five minutes to spare. The sun is just starting to rise, the rays of light reflecting off of the windows of his building, and he thinks that New York City looks better when it’s bathed in the golden glow of the morning. It’s almost pleasant enough to make him forget his earlier frustrations, and he’s starting to feel invigorated instead of annoyed, like the day is full of unexplored possibilities. Like maybe he should take the bus more often. He immediately regrets that thought when the bus actually pulls up, coughing a thick cloud of exhaust fumes in his face before it stops. He boards and pays, and then freezes in the middle of the aisle. It’s you.

“Find a seat,” the bus driver calls back loudly, and a few people glare at him as he sits down, but you don’t notice the commotion, mouthing along to the music playing in your headphones, oblivious to the world. You look different out of your uniform, but Hux thinks he’d know you anywhere and he falls into a seat, watching to make sure he’s right.

No, it’s definitely you. Your expression betrays an intense level of focus as you lean in closer to the book you’re reading before you scribble in the margins and then flip to the next page. He never gets to see you like this: looking so awake, so alive. It’s always been hard for him to take his eyes off of you, but now . . .

He should talk to you. He should talk to you because if he doesn’t, and you see him, you would think that he had chosen to ignore you, and he didn’t want that. That is, if you recognized him at all. Would you recognize him? You saw him every morning, but it was always while you were working, and it wasn’t like your interactions with him were particularly unique. You probably handed hundreds of people their coffee everyday. But you did remember his order; that had to count for something. And he’d really like a chance to say more to you than just “good morning.”

The bus stops again, and Hux gathers the courage to move to the closest empty seat. Your eyes stay on your book, your pen resting on your bottom lip. Hux takes in a deep breath before tapping you on the shoulder, and to his horror, you jump, ripping your headphones from your ears and turning to face him.

“Holy shit, you scared me—wait a second, I know you!” Your expression transforms from anger and surprise to one of recognition, and your face lights up when you give him a smile. It’s a genuine smile—not a customer-service smile, like he normally gets. A sunshine smile. Hux has to remind himself to breathe.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he says when he finally regains the ability to speak, “but I thought I recognized you and I wanted to say hello.” He trails off awkwardly; this was a terrible idea. He had nothing to say to you, but he had to admit that he liked being this close, liked being able to see the way your lashes brush against your cheeks when you look down, pausing the tinny music he can hear coming from your headphones.

“Well, hello,” you say, smiling again. Hux turns his gaze to the ceiling, begging his brain to come up with something to say. Luckily, you carry on the conversation for him, “I’ve never seen you on the bus before. Car trouble?”

“Something like that,” it’s not technically a lie, and he isn’t exactly eager to get into the details of his morning. What would you think of him if you knew he had a personal chauffeur while you were forced to take the bus?

“Hmmm, that sucks. If you need a mechanic, I know a guy.” You pull a slip of paper out of the back cover of your book and nestle it between the pages, closing it and resting it in your lap. Hux takes this as a good sign—you want to keep talking to him.

“It’s being taken care of,” he says, and then, hoping to change the subject, “what’s your stop?”

“Oh, I’m headed to NYU,” you say, nudging your backpack on the floor with the toe of your shoe.

“You’re a student?” He should have guessed, but the information surprises him. You seemed older than most of the students he sometimes saw running around campus when he went to give guest lectures in the business school every semester.

“No, I just like going to the library on my days off,” you say in explanation, like you already knew what he was thinking, “It’s quiet there and my roommates are loud, so . . . ” The bus jolts to a stop again, and you’re almost thrown into him, until you brace yourself against his shoulder. Your hand lingers just for a moment before you move it back your lap once again, mumbling a quick apology. Hux changes his mind again, he should definitely take the bus more often.

“This is an early start for a day off,” he says, and you laugh.

“Yeah, it is. I guess all the time I spend serving coffee has kind of ruined my ability to sleep in,” you say, and then with some hesitation, “you work for First Order Enterprises, right?”

“How did you know that?” God, he hopes you don’t read the tabloids. He’s only minor fodder for the parasites who write them—there are many bigger names in New York than his—but the articles aren’t exactly flattering, and he’d hate for you to have a negative opinion of him before he even had a chance to get to know you.

“Well, I do see you walk into the building every day,” you say in explanation, and he relaxes, safe for now. Maybe it’s a trick of the light as it floods through the greying bus window, but he thinks you might be blushing, and it’s thrilling. Talking to you is surprisingly easy, even when he’s so often distracted by the quirk of your lips, the way your tongue sometimes peaks out of the corner of your mouth when you’re trying to think of something to say. Hux takes a chance to look out the window and, to his dismay, he can see the FOE building in the distance. His time with you is almost up.

“I think my stop is next,” he says, and your mouth folds into a small frown. He moves to stand, getting ready to disembark, but you stop him with a hand on his arm.

“Wait,” you say, and he hesitates, although he can tell by the streets passing by that the bus will be stopping any moment now, “I don’t know your name.” Hux winces. Of course he should tell you his name, he knows yours after all; you wear a name tag when you’re working and he had made a point to read it. You don’t release him, expectant.

“I go by Hux,” he says, finally giving in, and you squint your eyes at him in confusion.

“There’s no way that’s your name,” you say, your fingers dancing over the sleeve of his suit jacket sending sparks up through his arm. It wakes him up better than caffeine ever has; he feels like he could run a marathon if you just kept touching him.

“I go by my last name, actually,” he explains, and you raise your eyebrows, waiting for more, “my first name is . . . unique.”

“Well, now I have to know.” Your eyes light up and you smirk, tightening your grip as he feels the bus roll to a stop. He looks to the doors, waiting for them to open, but you tug on the hem of his sleeve to bring his attention back to you, “It’ll drive me crazy if you don’t tell me.” God, you’re pretty when you want something. Hux has a feeling that you don’t hear the word no often, and you certainly won’t hear it from him.

“It’s Armitage,” he finally concedes, and you throw your hands to your mouth, but they can’t keep the squeal from escaping. He gives you a pained look and you lower them, adopting an air of mock solemnity.

“That is unique,” you say, clearing your throat to cover up your giggle, “what does it mean?”

“Mean?” The bus finally stops, and he stands, waiting for the bus driver to open the doors.

“Come on, a name like that has to mean something.” Your finger runs over the skin of his wrist, and he has to lean close to hear you over the sound of the passengers getting on, a few of them shuffling irately past him to find seats. He should leave now, before the bus driver starts up again again, but not without giving you what you asked.

“It means,” he says quietly, “that my father was an asshole.”

You pause only for a moment, and then the sound of your laughter fills the whole bus, a hearty, full laugh that’s like gold in his veins. A few people glare at the two of you, but Hux doesn’t mind the attention. God, that’s a lovely sound. He’d like to wake up to a sound like that. Your hand falls from his arm, and he straightens, heading to the door, but he looks back before disembarking.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Armitage.” You leave him with one last smile as he steps down onto the street. He stays on the curb for a moment, watching as the bus turns the corner, disappearing from view. For the first time in a long time, Hux thinks he has a reason to break his routine.

It doesn’t take long for you to figure him out; certainly not as long as he’d like. It’s the third morning that he sees you waiting for him, a morning that’s overcast and cloudy, but you smile at him when he walks through the doors and it makes everything seem brighter. You move your bag from the seat next to you and put away your book as he joins you—a new routine in its own right. It’s nice to see you in the mornings when he gets his coffee, but he’s been looking forward to Wednesday mornings the most, likes that he can just be with you for a little while.

“So I met a friend of yours yesterday,” you say in greeting as he sits, and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Hux doesn’t have many friends, and he had plenty of enemies who might try something devious. “Your driver—I think she said her name was Phasma? She came in for coffee after parking your car.” You’ve got a great poker face, but Hux thinks he can see the hint of a smile at the corners of your lips as you wait for an explanation. His face falls; he had hoped for a little more time to get to know you, and now he has to tell you the truth, even if it might drive you away.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he turns away from you, trying to hide his disappointment. Getting coffee in the morning would be much too awkward if this conversation did not go well.

“When were you going to tell me?” You speak seriously, but everything about you is tinged with an infectious sort of humor, and it gives him a fragile sort of hope.

“I was actually hoping that I wouldn’t have to,” he responds, and you sit, waiting, staring him down with impenetrable eyes, “I just . . . wanted to get to know you.” You do smile then, a small, incredulous smile that makes his heart skip a beat.

“Well, since we’re being honest, I have something that I should tell you,” you don’t look at him as you speak, instead you rummage around in your backpack, pulling out your book again and flipping through the pages. He braces himself, waiting for the worst. Were you about to tell him that you had a boyfriend? Or that you weren’t interested? He looks out the window; his stop is close, but not close enough if he has to deal with the mortification of your rejection.

“I wasn’t planning on going to the library today,” you begin, pulling a slip of paper out of the back cover of your book, “I just came because I knew you’d be here.” You finally meet his eyes, your expression shy, embarrassed. Hux can scarcely believe it.

“Are you saying . . .” he doesn’t dare finish his sentence, but waits as you reach over, tucking the slip of paper into his waiting hands.

“Here,” you say, folding his fingers around it, and the slip crinkles against his fingers before he looks at it, raising it to eye level so he can better read the numbers you’ve written.

“What’s this?” He knows what it is, obviously, but he has to make sure that you’re on the same page. He’d like to make sure he’s not dreaming.

“It’s my phone number. Call me sometime.” He can’t think of a single thing to say, not when it feels like rays of pure light are bursting out of his chest, but he tucks the little paper into his jacket pocket, staring at you like an idiot. You smile back, openly. Even as you’re smiling, he can’t wait for the next one; he’s never seen happiness so at home on someone’s face before.

The bus rolls to a stop, and he’s pulled out of his reverie, standing so that he can disembark. He pats his pocket to make sure that the little paper is tucked securely away before turning to face you, “I’ll call you, tonight if that’s alright?” and you nod in response, looking almost as eager as he feels. He’ll call you tonight, and he’ll see you tomorrow morning, and hopefully every day after that, because he never wants to go another day without seeing you smile.

#armitage hux x reader #armitage hux x you #general hux x reader #general hux x you #armitage hux #general hux #general hux au #armitage hux au #modern au #my writing #requests #livy1391

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iamtrebleclefstories · 4 years ago

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How are your creative juices going now? Inspired again? I love whenever you post so just mentally preparing myself for withdraw ahah /// No but seriously I do love your fics. I think you should write one where Jo suspects she is pregnant again soon after having their first child and has to tell Alex

Hi! So I really wasn’t going to write anything. I was just going to thank you for your kinds words and attempt to write one of my ongoing stories but for some reason this prompt really got me inspired. So... I have have written a little something for you!

Can’t Say I’m Surprised

“We have a problem!”

“What?” Meredith furrowed her brows as a frantic Jo dragged her into a supply closet. “What is going on?”

“I messed up, Mer. I messed up big time and I don’t even know how I’m gonna begin to tell Alex,” Jo paced back and forth between the racks full of bedpans, blankets, and betadine.

“Jo, I need you to slow down if I’m going to help you,” Meredith grabbed Jo by the shoulders, forcing her to stop pacing.

Jo let out a belabored sigh and looked down at the floor, “I messed up, Meredith. I knew I shouldn’t but I wanted it so bad, I wanted him so bad that I didn’t even stop to think of the consequences. The alcohol in my system didn’t help either.”

Meredith’s eyes widened, “Hold on. Jo, are you saying what I think you’re saying? Did you cheat on Alex?”

“What? No!” Jo exclaimed, a mildly offended expression on her face. “I would never cheat on Alex. Why would you even ask me that?”

“I’m sorry, but you have to understand what it sounded like from my end. You pulled me in here and started walking like a chicken with your head cut off talking about how you wanted someone so badly and didn’t think of the consequences,” Meredith replied.

“Yeah I see where you could’ve gotten the wrong idea from that,” Jo winced. “I didn’t have sex with another man. The problem is that I had drunk sex with my husband.”

“I’m not following here. Why is that a problem?” a confused expression crossed Meredith’s face. “He’s your husband, have all the sex you want.”

“No, Meredith you don’t get it,” Jo shook her head.

“Obviously not.”

“I haven’t been on any birth control since I had Max. I had an IUD that I got removed when we started trying. I never got it replaced. We started using condoms again, which we stopped using three months into our relationship, so we’re aren’t exactly good at using them. And a few weeks ago, I had drunk sex with my husband. I wanted him so badly that I completely forgot,” Jo explained nervously.

Meredith gasped, “Oh my God. Are you pregnant?”

“Maybe? I don’t know,” Jo leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. “I have all the same symptoms I had with Max. I’ve been nauseous, I have weird food aversions and cravings, and I’ve been getting dizzy.”

“You haven’t take a test yet?” Meredith looked at Jo who shook her head. “Well then, we’ll draw your blood right now and have the results within the hour.”

Meredith took Jo by the arm and led her out of the supply closet into and empty exam room, “Okay. I will be right back. I’m going to get the stuff to draw your blood.”

A couple minutes later everything was done. Jo was putting pressure on the needle stick as she pulled it out and laid a bandaid on it. She let out a breath, “Mer, what am I going to do? What if I’m pregnant again? It’s too soon. Max is only four months old. How do I tell my husband that we’re having another baby months after I gave birth to the first one? We’re just starting to get used to a routine.”

“First of all, you need to calm down. Let’s not worry about anything until we have answers,” Meredith attempted ease Jo’s worries. “And secondly, a baby is a good thing. You and Alex both want lots of kids, you know that. Yeah, it might be earlier than you expected, but he won’t be mad. So don’t be scared about that. He’ll be ecstatic.”

“Yeah. You’re right. He’s been trying to knock me up for years. Ever since my fourth year of residency. He’ll be happy,” Jo tried convincing herself that it would all be okay.

“Come on, let’s go. We’re going to be late for rounds. The results should be in my the time we’re done and I’ll be with you when you find out,” Meredith rubbed a comforting hand on Jo’s shoulders as they walked out into the hallway.

*****

Jo had just finished rounding on her last patient when she quite literally bumped into Alex. Alex held out his hands to steady her, “Woah, careful princess. Be glad you ran into me and not a patient.”

“Sorry,” Jo offered. “I’m just... in a rush. You haven’t seen Meredith have you?”

“Nope,” Alex shook his head. He narrowed his eyes and looked at Jo for a moment. “Are you okay? You seem... distracted. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah. Everything’s fine,” Jo forced a smile on her face. “I do really need to find Meredith, though, so I’m gonna go...”

“Uh huh,” Alex nodded as his wife ran away awkwardly.

Jo ran off to the supply closet where she and Meredith first met that morning in hopes of finding her there. She waited for a couple minutes before Meredith ran through the doors with an envelope, “I’ve got the results back from the lab. Do you want to do it or should I?”

“You do it,” Jo released a nervous breath. “I don’t think I’ll be able to open it.”

“Okay,” Meredith gave Jo a short nod and proceeded to open the envelope. She unfolded the paper and ran her eyes over the lab work with a blank expression on her face. Finally, Meredith looked up. “Well, Jo. You are most definitely pregnant.”

“Holy shit,” were the first words to leave Jo’s lips. She clasped her hands over her mouth, gasping at what she’d said. “I mean... actually, yes I mean holy shit. I’m pregnant?”

“Yup,” Meredith smiled sympathetically. “Probably somewhere around the 4-5 weeks range from your levels.”

“Freaking Karev and his weirdly fertile sperm,” Jo grumbled. “This is the second time he’s knocked me up on the first try. Except this time, we weren’t even actually trying.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Meredith laughed. “He’s been talking about all the kids you guys will have since you got married. He’s very eager.”

“Well, if he keeps doing what he’s doing, at this rate we’ll end up with like six kids,” Jo rubbed a hand on her forehead. “I need to lay down. But I have surgery in 30 minutes.”

“How about you go take a nap in an on-call room and I’ll take your first surgery. I don’t have anything scheduled until 2pm anyway and was going to see if I could scrub in with you,” Meredith suggested.

“Thanks,” Jo nodded and made her way to an on-call room. She’d been sleeping for what must’ve been an hour when she heard the door creek open.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize there was anyone in here,” the person apologized. “Hold on... Jo is that you?”

Jo turned and came face to face with her husband. In his arms was their four month old son, “What the hell? Do you do this? Take him out of daycare during your free time to hang out in the on-call rooms?”

Alex looked like a kid who’d just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, “Yeah... usually I walk around the peds wing with him strapped to my chest, but there’s a clown going around and he doesn’t deserve to be traumatized from such a young age.”

Jo busted out in laughter, “That might just be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said. You are the best dad.”

“Thanks,” Alex said, a shy smile creeping onto his face. He never planned on telling Jo about his routine of taking Max out of daycare, but honestly, it felt good knowing that she thought what he did made him a better dad. “What are you doing here? I thought you had a surgery this morning?”

“Oh... um, Meredith took it. I was feeling tired so she offered to take my surgery so I could lay down,” Jo explained.

“Are you sick?” Alex sat down next to Jo and placed a hand on her forehead.

“No. I just... didn’t sleep well last night,” Jo admitted.

“Yeah I noticed,” Alex nodded. “You were really restless all night long. You only get like that when you’re stressed. What’s bothering you?”

As much as Jo loved how attentive her husband was, this was one of those moments where she wished that he’d just turn a blind eye. Taking in the quiet of the on-call room and the calming sensation of holding her baby in her arms, Jo figured that there were worse places to disclose this information. She took a deep breath, “I’m pregnant.”

Alex raised his eyebrows and grinned, “I was wondering how long it would take you to figure it out.”

“Wait... what?” Jo scrunched her face in confusion. “You knew?”

“Of course I knew,” Alex scoffed. “I figured it out a week ago. I was trying to see how long it would take you to realize.”

Jo’s jaw dropped in disbelief, “You thought something was up and you didn’t tell me!”

“I didn’t want to freak you out,” Alex confessed. “Max is only four months old and we weren’t planning on having another until he was at least two years old. So when you started having symptoms, I kept my mouth shut because I felt bad for knocking you up again so soon.”

“I was scared to tell you because I was afraid you’d freak out that I got pregnant not even six months after having the first one,” Jo laughed. “Oh my God. We’re having another baby.”

“We’re having another baby,” Alex smiled widely and took Max into his hands. “You hear that Max? You’re gonna be a big brother pretty soon.”

“He has no idea what’s coming for him,” Jo chuckled. She reached out to stroke Max’s hair and then leaned her head on Alex’s shoulder. “I love you. I know this wasn’t supposed to happen so soon, but I’m happy about it because I know that we can do this. We can do it together.”

“Hell yeah we can,” Alex kissed Jo’s forehead lightly. “And for the record, I love you more.”

#jolex #jolex fanfic #alex karev #jo karev #jo wilson #greys anatomy #jo x alex #grey's anatomy #greys fanfic #greys au #jolex fluff #jolex babies #jolex forever #meredith grey #Meredith x Jo #merjo friendship #accidental baby acquisition #unplanned pregnancy

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banyeet · 5 years ago

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Studying Tips from a Bad Student

Print out your syllabus.

Carry it with you. Highlight readings when they are assigned and cross them off as you complete them.

Put in the dates of all your assignments the first day of class. Make special note of overlapping assignments/exams. 3 midterms and 2 papers due during the same week? Better to know 2 months in advance instead of 2 days.

Pick 1 office hour for each class that works with your schedule.

I never ever went to office hours before becoming an adult. Honestly, I hate commuting, and I don’t like spending my free time on campus. So if I’m going to attend tutorials or office hours, there better be a damn convenient time for me to go.

Pick one time for each professor that you feel like you don’t mind attending, and highlight/write down that information where it’s easily accessible to you. Do this during the first week of classes.

If you can’t find a regular office hour time that works for you, immediately contact your prof or TA to ask how they feel about e-mailed questions or scheduled appointments for when you need help. Once you hear back with their alternative, make note of it in that same accessible place so you know what your options are when you have questions.

Take notes by hand.

I type way faster than I can write, and I’m sure a lot of you are the same. This is partly because your brain isn’t processing what you’re writing down in the same way as when you physically write it out. Trust me, it makes a difference.

Also, I found that if I handwrite notes, I am more likely to go back and look at them again later on. What I like to do is write the notes out in class, and then review them either that night or the following day and highlight, bold things, doodle relevant icons, generally make them look pretty. That way, you’re reviewing them but it’s also fun. Spend some time before the semester starts to get a pen you like to write with, and maybe some coloured highlighters and post-it notes. Interesting things are easier to keep looking at.

Don’t write out exactly what’s on the slide.

First off, if your professor isn’t the type to post slides before/after a lecture, ask if that is a possibility. There isn’t always time to write everything down during lecture, so it helps if you are able to fill in the information you missed after class. If you don’t want to ask in person, an email is usually okay.

Listen to what is being said in relation to the points on the slide. Usually, what’s written on the slide doesn’t even make that much sense, because it’s only enough information for your professor to remember what they wanted to say. Or it’s written in a way that is unclear to you, so you might want to word it differently so you understand it during review.

Once you get the main point of what you’re suppose to learn, write it down in your own words. When studying, you can compare your own notes to the posted lecture slides. See if they still make sense when compared to each other. Flag things that don’t make sense, so you can ask for clarification during office hours.

Block time.

Plan time every day for school work, even if nothing is due. It doesn’t have to be much. Maybe 45 minutes on weekdays, and 2 hours on Saturdays and Sundays.**I’m taking 2 classes (and working 37 hours a week) right now, so obviously if you’re taking 8 classes you’ll need a little more than 45 minutes a day lmao.

Stick to it; hold it in high priority. Avoid making plans during your blocked time as much as possible. For example, if you have Saturdays blocked from 11am to 1pm, and your friend wants to have lunch at 12:30, ask to reschedule for after 1pm. It might not shock you that this isn’t a deal breaker in most cases.

Plan leisure time.

Do your friends typically like to go out on Friday nights? Do you like to play video games or watch a show during a certain time of the week? Remove those time-slots from the equation (i.e. Friday from 8pm to Saturday at 11am no longer exist in your schedule).

Plan your blocked time around that. That way, you never have to feel guilty about having fun during that time, because it wasn’t available for schoolwork in the first place. **obviously do this in moderation. Don’t block off 10am-10pm every day for dicking around, or you won’t have time for anything else.

Plan to procrastinate.

If you are an avid procrastinator like me, plan time for it. One thing I learned quickly about functioning as an adult is to plan everything. E V E R Y T H I N G. If you don’t plan for it, it’s either

a) not happening, or b) happening anyway and fucking up your whole schedule.

So start homework and assignments way early. I was terrible at estimating time. Things I thought would take me 25 minutes usually ended up taking me 2 hours. Dinner plans I thought would end at 8pm ended up lasting until 10pm. But only finishing 30% of what you planned to get done isn’t the end of the world when you started 2 weeks earlier than you normally would. You have more blocked time tomorrow. **don’t let this happen every day. As I mentioned, your blocked time should take priority over everything else as a general rule.

Print off assignment criteria.

Nothing pisses me off like losing marks on technicalities. The layout of your arguments wasn’t in the right order. Your essay only hit 3 of the 5 points it was meant to. You cited in MLA instead of APA format. You were mean to include information from a list of specific sources, not ones that you found in the database yourself. None of that is an indication of whether you understood the material or not.

So before you start,

print the criteria, and read it thoroughly.

Read it again, this time highlighting things you feel are important to hit.

Most importantly, keep it next to you any time you are working on your assignment. Refer back to it often, especially if you feel stuck or run into an obstacle.

When you’re done, check off the highlighted instructions as you confirm that you’ve met them.

#school #universtiy #college #unsolicited advice #studying #study tips #procrastination #adult adhd #adhd

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nikstersss · 3 years ago

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Not How To Pass The PLE

Before I go into the main gist of this post, let me give you a small background story. I was a mid-year post-graduate intern in Manila who started in January 2021. I lived alone in our condo unit near the hospital I went to. My usual routine was to get up early, prep, take a short walk to the trike station where I’d take a tricycle to the hospital, go on duty, insert a coffee or carioca break in between, walk all the way home at the end of the day, then maybe have a short study session with a couple friends after dinner or just chill at home. It was a pretty good setup. But then COVID happened. Suddenly, I was a pandemic e-ntern stuck at home listening to Zoom endorsements and lectures all day. At first I was hopeful that things would somehow go back to normal and maybe I wouldn’t be spending the rest of my internship in front of a screen, but we all know how that turned out.

I finished the first half of my internship with the regular year PGIs online. While they were prepping for their boards, I was on my second half with the new batch of interns (that’s probably you, dear reader)—still online. Now you might think that it would have been wise of me to use all that “free” time to start early with my own boards prep and you would be correct. I thought the exact same thing. And trust me, I tried. And failed. Countless times. I won’t even try to justify it. Admittedly, I still think it was a wasted opportunity to read more and make notes, but then again, there’s no use crying over spilled milk. Besides, while it would have been nice and probably less stressful, I still survived without it. Which means that you can, too. So if you’re one of those who’s berating himself because you “didn’t make the most out of your time”, cut it out. You’ll be fine.

Towards the end of my internship, I enrolled in a review center. Despite the asynchronous setup, the review schedule was super tight and the sessions already started while I was still in the middle of final reports and exams. Needless to say, I was already behind on that before it even began. In fact, I didn’t even get to focus on reviewing itself until maybe around early February because of clearance, paperwork, and application stuff. So if you were to ask me how long I really reviewed for the March 2021 boards, I’d say just a little over a month. Kasalanan ko. Wag po tularan. Stressful siya. Nakakaloka.

And even when I did get to really buckle down and do some intense reading, I didn’t follow the program anymore. I tried to catch up at first, but I was already way behind. But I am grateful for all the summarized material because that meant I didn’t have to pore over the mother books anymore. What I will say, though, is that because I didn’t exactly follow the recommended study hours etcetera, I was able to enjoy the whole process because I did it at my own pace. Sure, there was still that dread that maybe I wasn’t on the same level as the others, but I learned to tune those thoughts out eventually. And that’s where goal-setting and discipline comes in, I guess.

The most common question I’ve been getting is what was my day like during the PLE review season. Honestly, I’d like to say I had a routine I followed, but that’s only half-true. While I did have a structure for my day, I rarely followed it exactly. Nevertheless, allow me to share what it would have been like if I did:

Ideally, I’d wake up at 5:00 A.M. then do my morning routine which included prayer and meditation, making my bed, taking a shower, and brewing coffee. And because I’m the type of person who enjoys these mundane activities and slow mornings, I also took this opportunity to get myself in the zone before all the studying that’s to come. I’d plan out my study goals and outline (something you can do the night before, actually) then maybe have breakfast while watching some videos (could be review-related, or those self-motivational vids, or maybe even Korean street food). I’d do whatever I wanted to wake my brain up without stressing it out too much until around 6:30 A.M. By this time, I’d work on backlogs for about an hour and study until about 10 or 11 A.M.—it depends how in the zone I am. I’d prep and cook lunch and then eat while watching Netflix maybe or even play a bit of Fortnite or Paladins until about 1:00 P.M. At this point, I’m pretty certain to be quite sleepy so it’s either I make coffee or tea, or maybe even go out to study at a coffee shop, and then it’s study all the way until 7 P.M. I then take a break to get some exercise, take a shower, have a light dinner, and if I feel like I deserve it, nap for a little bit. At around 8:30, my family usually calls and then we pray the rosary together. After this, I study again, but more of a recall and review session for the day’s progress until about 11:30. I then have my night self-care routine and then go to sleep around midnight.

The main takeaway from the previous paragraph? “Ideally.”

During the first few days of setting up my schedule or routine, following it was already challenging, but still doable. But then the backlogs started piling up and no matter how much I tried to streamline the whole study process, I just couldn’t keep up. I did what I could to follow study habits and schedules, but the setup was falling apart. And you know what? That was okay.

Normally, my type A self would have been so frustrated already with how poorly I was handling my review season. Admittedly, there were a few meltdowns and anxiety attacks as the exam drew nearer, but for the most part, I just let things happen as they did. I still adjusted, sure, but I wasn’t hard on myself for always having to. I kept changing goals when I didn’t meet them (which was probably 80% of the time). There were even instances where I’d finish a handout and then I’d say that okay, I’ll watch an episode for a reward, but that episode became the entire season. While I considered myself to be the most chill reviewee, I also thought I was the worst because I refused to give up any of my wants for my needs. I resisted, of course, but then they’d bug me the entire time I was studying so instead of staying productive, I’d just annoy the hell out of myself. I was probably just lazy and stubborn. LOL. Long story, short, it was a constant battle.

There were times when I felt confident enough to power through the whole thing. I enjoyed the whole process of studying, actually. Making notes and my own ways of memorizing things was fun. I made use of different study strategies, self-checks, and motivational boosters (more on these on a different post). Aside from these, having review-mates who were just a chat away made things bearable. Breakdown session muna tas aral na ulit. And how could I forget all my sweet friends who would send over coffee ayuda every now and then? To me, passing the boards, while mainly should be for oneself and one’s self-actualization, is also about not letting down these people who have been with you throughout your journey.

But it wasn’t always a hyped-90s-movie-transformation-montage kind of environment. Other times, I was just worn out and dejected by my lack of progress. In the already meager time I had to study, I still had plenty of off-days. Concepts just wouldn’t stick and it was disappointing how I’d already forgotten what I just read a couple days ago. It got really tiring even if I was staying indoors all the time. I missed the comfort of coffee shops and the company of study buddies. I missed my family. I wanted to hug our dog. There were days when I couldn’t even bring myself to make coffee and open my notes. I even reached a point where I was sure that I wouldn’t finish reading all the material. (I kid you not, I have handouts I never got to open.)

Yet here I am. Here I am writing about how I survived all that and got those two letters attached to my name. I am not a good example, obviously. There are hundreds better than me and you probably should be taking advice from them instead. I’m simply writing this to tell you that you don’t have to worry. This is all just to ease your anxieties about the PLE. I’m not saying it’s an easy feat that you can just achieve just like that. While I seemed rather complacent, I still put in the work, after all. Admittedly, I know I could have done more, but again, I’m not going to dwell on that anymore. It’s done.

My goal in writing this is to let you know, my dear future doctor, that you’re going to be just fine. Here’s someone who understands the huge disconnect that stemmed from being a pandemic e-ntern. Here’s someone who’s always been doubtful and full of anxieties about the PLE even before she filed her application at the PRC. Here’s someone who constantly prayed that the PLE be moved even for just a month (or kahit two weeks lang masaya na ako nun) up to the week before the exam along with a rising number of cases. Here’s someone who barely has the capability to maintain focus for more than an hour. Here’s someone whose reading pace was literally at 10 minutes per page (yes, I actually timed it and IDK if that’s slow or really slow). Here’s someone who still allowed herself to study at coffee shops and even have samgyup (with proper health protocols, of course) even if she knew she was drowning in backlogs.

My point is that if I managed to pass despite all that, you can, too. My close friends know that I developed a rather funny mentality to ease the jitters as the boards drew nearer. I knew and claimed it for myself that I would already pass. I viewed the whole PLE as just a “formality”--a means for His plans of me becoming a doctor to manifest in this realm. I believed it so much to the point that I thought that no matter what bloopers and slip-ups I have during the test, I’d still see my name on the list of board passers. I’m not saying you should totally ease up and just have a come-what-may attitude. Again, I’m not the model student you should be following here. What I’m saying is to have faith in yourself, your capabilities, and in God. So chin up, Doc. Just a little more ‘til you get to legally practice with that MD at the end of your name.

#nikstersss #PLE

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ldrmas · 4 years ago

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OctoLolli Full Story

~~ This is based on https://www.instagram.com/p/CB_9reanS0H/ & https://www.instagram.com/p/CDC_IH5nLpg/ by Ordinary__Art , please go check out her art!! All her art! SHES NOW ON TWITTER TOO AH I’M SO EXCITED!!

This is the full story from the part 1 post. The part 1 was just a tease but this is the full story!

Btw OctoLolli is Remus and Logan, aka Intrulogical just so you all know!

This will also mention Patton, Janus, etc. Remember I’m really bad at writing Remus so if he is a little oc I’m very sorry! I have no beta as well so if there are mistakes I apologize for those as well.

Also Tagglist: @decadentscissorsapricotdeputy Warnings for Swearing from Remus and Presmut attraction and activities!

Logan could admit that he was becoming a hypocrite. He was getting on Thomas’s case anytime he had a chance to about sleeping in a perfect sleep schedule. And it had been that he would follow the same schedule, but lately that was not the case. After Janus had took his seat at the table, Thomas had been slightly more selfish. He had even admitted to his followers that he was finally taking a break.

Logan would never tell anyone, but he had been the one side who had been there to witness Janus’s break down dance in victory after Thomas made the announcement. It had made Logan begin to think. If Thomas could take a break for himself then Logan could be a little less strict. As long as Thomas was getting 7 hours of sleep like a grown adult should, then that was all that mattered. If seven hours were achieved then Logan was alright. He wouldn’t bother Thomas unless he deeply needed to step in and remind Thomas to sleep. That wasn’t the same for Logan. It didn’t just happen one night. It happened gradually.

He stayed up later and later and then it became that he would stay up for 24 hrs at a time. Being just a side, an imagined figment, he did not actually need to sleep. The sides slept so to perform at the best of their abilities. Not sleeping hadn’t hindered Logan yet so for now he would continue to perform his tasks until all the work was completed. But he didn’t always work in his room. It wasn’t his rooms fault. He couldn’t exactly blame his room which had been programmed by him. His room would in a way shut down at 8 every night. When he had been on a sleep schedule in the past, he had wanted it that way. But now not so much. He started working in the Mind Palace Common area, specifically at the table that was just outside the kitchen. He would only have a few lights on so he could see his screen but not bring notice that he was working in the room. The other sides usually were asleep when he was out there working, so he was never concerned about being found out. Then one night an interaction occurred that Logan didn’t quite suspect would happen. The light sides and dark sides rooms were in two different parts of the MindScape. The Mind Palace usually looked Thomas’s apartment since it was the space they all basically knew by heart and could recreate without any trouble. Up the staircase was where one would find the “light” sides bedrooms. Janus’s room had just been recently added after the events of their latest video and though the others had been surprised, Logan hadn’t really been. Janus and Patton needed to start working together so that if Thomas came against another mature problem then they could confront it as a team instead of sending Thomas into another mental health breakdown. They couldn’t exactly learn to work together and start to get along better if Janus was still living and staying in the “dark” side. Logan didn’t like labeling them like they always had. Not one of the sides could be put in either category of light or dark. They were all just a part of Thomas and were doing the jobs given to them. No more no less. There was a “hidden” door attached to the stairs that led down to the “dark” side common space. The only thing about the dark sides space was that they didn’t have a kitchen. The only kitchen was in the light space. So both sides had to share the kitchen. Logan shouldn’t have been surprised that eventually he would meet one of the dark sides during his nightly escapades. Logan had taken a second to stretch and rub at his neck. The room was so quiet without his loud typing. It was in that moment that Remus slammed open the dark side door and stormed into the kitchen. In the second Remus had opened the fridge, the light of the appliance shined upon him and Logan was able to catch a glimpse of his outfit. His mouth immediately went dry and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Remus was in a simple suite jacket and pants. The jacket was nightshade of black with mother of pearl lapels. The undershirt was Remus’s signature green color but instead of looking bad with the other parts of the suit it just added the perfect amount of color the creativity side needed to make the outfit look drop dead perfect. Logan was also able to see just a quick look at Remus’s face. He had on what appeared to be a very light shade of blush on the high of his cheeks and his hair was slightly curled as well. If Logan had to guess he would dare even say that it looked like Remus’s mustache had been groomed as well.

The dark side slammed the kitchen fridge door shut and started chugging the bottle of water he had grabbed. He must have been somewhat pissed to have grabbed a normal substance instead of the usual stuff Remus consumed. He still had yet to notice Logan was watching his every move. Usually Logan would have wanted to keep it that way. Remus would eventually go back down the stairs and Logan could resume his work. It appeared though that wasn’t something Logan had wanted. He was curious of why Remus was dressed this way and he wanted-no needed to know more about what was going on. So as Remus left the kitchen to go back downstairs, he was just about to grab the door, Logan spoke up.

“Remus?” “MO----ER F----KER, J----US SH-T ON A M---THER F—KING CRACKER!” Remus screamed and Logan held back a chuckle as the light side common place had took the liberty to bleep out Remus’s curse words. That was no doubt Patton’s doing. Remus turned on the lights and faced Logan, looking at him in complete disbelief. “What the f---king h-ll, Logic! You are g-d da-n lucky I didn’t have my mother f--king morningstar or I would have clobbered you to death! Je—s, why am I’m getting bleeped! What I’m saying isn’t as strong because of it!” Remus growled as he looked to the ceiling, as if that was the whole reason he was getting bleeped. “Why the h-ll are you sitting there in the dark?” “I’m working.” Logan answered simply as he gestured to his laptop. He closed it knowing that now he had Remus’s attention he wouldn’t be doing work for a while. Remus moved to the table and sat across from him chugging the water once more. Once he was done with that, he struck the water down upon the table, he leveled Logan with a glare. He wasn’t happy about Logic scaring him. He was usually the one to terrify the other sides. “You’re working out here why exactly?” “Do I get to ask a question if I answer yours?” “Like what we play 20 questions or something?” Remus chuckled as he swirled around the water in the bottle as if it was a fine wine. “I just don’t believe it would be justifiable if I answer and then you just leave me hanging.” Logan replied with a slight shrug. It was reasonable. Janus and Remus were known for not giving answers if they didn’t want to. “Fair enough. I’ll answer all your questions as long as you answer mine.” “You know me, Remus, I could never leave a question unanswered.” Logan answered as an agreement which brought a chuckle from the dark creativity side. “Yeah Yeah, Pocket Protector, now I believe you haven’t answered my question yet?” Remus commented as he waved his hand over his water bottle which magically refilled it. He took another sip from it never losing eyesight with Logan. “Oh yes, of course, I’m working out here because my room basically shuts down at 8 o’ clock every night.” “Shut down?” “Yes, the lights turn off and my power outlets don’t work. You know what I say no electronics 30 minutes before bed, so my room does that. But there is work to be done so I work out here now.” “Okaaaaaaaaaayy….” Remus drew out the word as he took a second to think about what exactly the Logical side was saying to him.

“So you work out here and let me see it’s…” Remus used a tentacle that appeared from his back to move his suit sleeve back. He looked down to a watch that probably just materialized on his wrist to make his point. “…It’s 5 am and how many days have you been out here working all night long?” “I’ve been doing this since the wedding video.” Logan replied truthfully, though he looked away for he realized how bad that sounded. “That’s what I thought. Yoink!” Remus had actually said the word “yoink” out loud and it was then that Logan realized that one of Remus’s tentacles had wrapped around his laptop, sliding it toward the mustached man. Logan was too late to stop it from happening. One moment the laptop was wrapped in octopus tentacles and the next it disappeared in thin air. “Hey! Remus!” Logan shouted, nearly shooting up from his chair. “Remus, give that back right this moment!” “Nope.” Remus smacked his lips to emphasize the ‘p’. Logan glared deadly at him and held out his hand in demand for his laptop back. Remus only smirked. “Relax, nerdy wolverine. It’s in a safe place in my room. In the next 24 hrs if you sleep for a full 7 hours then you’ll get it back.” Remus explained as he admired one of his several tentacles as if it was a hand of nails. “And how exactly will you know that I have slept for that time?” “I have my ways.” The dark creativity side chuckled ominously as his eyes meet the Logical’s side. Logan shuddered either in fear or in curiosity, he couldn’t exactly tell in the moment. Did he really want to know how Remus would know that he slept? Most likely not. “Alright. I’m not happy about this but there is nothing I can do at this point to change it. Now I believe since you have gotten to ask your questions it is my turn. Why are you dressed as such?” “Heh. Well it’s story-time…” Remus paused with a smirk to let the joke linger. Logan suppressed his own small smile. He had always wanted to hear what “story-time” would sound like from the intrusive thoughts being. “…Anyway so you remember that post Thommy-salamony posted on Instagram the other day?” “The Spotify one with the flower crown, yes.” Logan recalled with an agreeing nod.

“Yep, that’s the one. Anyway, Janus and I were talking about it today. Annnnd long story short you would think with how long I’ve been in creation I would have learned by now that I can’t beat Janus in any bet. Since I haven’t learned it yet, I lost the bet and now I gotta wear this monkey suit for another six hours.” Remus explained once he glanced at the watch on his human wrist once again. “I have been in this for so long that Janus has taken one million and one pictures of me on his phone and if I had to deal with him for one more second I would have done several unpleasant things to him. I came up here to get a f—cking break.” “I understand if this may be rude to say but may I too take a picture of you?” Logan took a chance to ask but wasn’t surprised when Remus growled at him.

“No, you may f—king not! I’ll tell Janus that you want some of his pics, I’m sure our snake-boi will share them.” Logan nodded knowing that was reasonable. Remus was probably on his last straw and the logical side didn’t wish to further anger the manifestation being of dark creativity. Remus laid out on the table with a deep sigh.

Logan could now see just how weary the green colored side seemed and he felt sorry for him.

“Well, despite you hating your attire, I am grateful that you came up here and I have gotten this chance to see you. You say your clothes are a monkey suit, but I must say you wear this suit quite beautifully. It compliments you very well.” Logic went on to say as he leaned back in his seat but didn’t look away from Remus. One could even say he was gazing at Remus as if he was in a trance of sorts. It was almost as if he was trying to take several mental snap shots of Remus to save for himself. It also could have been that he was trying to take in as much detail of Remus’s outfit as quickly as he could in fear that he would never see it again. Remus too was gazing at the navy colored side but for different reasons. “Back up there, Teach, did you…did you just call me …beautiful?” Remus asked nervously as if he was fearful that he had misheard Logan to begin with. Logan coughed into his fist, and since the intrusive thoughts had turned on the lights, they were both able to see the red start to spread across his cheeks. “I did, though I believe I said you are wearing the suit beautifully, which yes means you are beautiful in the suit.” “What the f—ck is that suppose to mean?” Remus asked wanting Logan to explain further on what he was saying. “Well…what I mean is…” Logan started as the blush now was fully engulfing his face. He also looked away from Remus so that he may gather his thoughts.

“…Your regular outfit suits you quite favorably as well, but your current outfit is, I must admit, quite surprising. In a superb way, I mean. I must say that you look so elegant in a way that I frankly never considered that you could….” Logan paused as he too came to the same realization of Remus. He now understood how what he was saying sounded. His blush deepened.

“Ap-Apologizes, Remus. I-I don’t quite understand where that came from… I think…Please, excuse me.” Logan tried to get up from his seat to escape but Remus was faster. His tentacles had swiftly wrapped around the logical side securing him to the chair. Remus wouldn’t allow him to leave that easily. Though it wasn’t as if Logan struggled against the octopi appendages. Logic knew he would not be able to get away from Remus’s hold.

He only gulped audibly as Remus came around the table and sat upon it right in front of the teacher like side. The intrusive thoughts being perched upon the table yet leaned forward cupping Logan’s jaw affectionately in his palm.

“Remus…”

“Oh, Lolo, I finally understand. You, Mr. Logic, are Thomas’s suit kink.” “I beg your pardon?”

“Oh, come on Lollipop,” Remus laughed as he leaned back on the table. “You of all sides understand what my job as “Dark Creativity” is composed of. Intrusive Thoughts, nightmares, blasphemous thinking, etc etc. And we can’t forgot the juiciest of all?” “Sexual Desires.”

“Very good, Smart Heart Bear! Anyhow, sexual desires includes sexy kinks, fetishes, and or fantasies. I know all of Thomas’s kinks from A to Z. I mean let’s be honest my brother is a f—king deer in the headlights once romance gets to the R-rated scenes. I mean sure RowRow can sweep any partner off their feet but once we to the bedroom, then it’s me time!” “Now so back what to I was saying, kinks! There have always been one or two I couldn’t for the life of me figure out, but I had found where most of them had come from. Oh, do you want to know what Patton’s is?” “Not particularly.”

“Sure you do! Patton’s is baking sex. Or sex in the kitchen. Or whatever he wants to call it. Your Happy Pappy has some pretty nasty thoughts when it comes to cooking twine, let me tell ya.” Remus snickered while Logan suppressed a shudder as he even considered what scenarios that thought could lead to.

“But anyway, like I said, I could see where most of them had come from, but I never had yours. I’m so stupid, I should have seen it. You are turned on by men in full suits. This outfit is turning you on. How did I not see that the man that is always in a tie was my connection to Thomas’s suit fetish? It’s so boringly oblivious now that I see how flushed you are in front of me.” Remus observed while reaching with one of his tentacles to start undoing his cuff links. Logan watched like a man possessed as the cuff links came off and the sleeves wrists unbuttoned. His mouth dried as the sleeves were slowly rolled up by Remus’s elegant fingers. Once both sleeves were comfortably up on Remus’s arms, he also took a second to run his right hand through his curled locks. The simple act turned the tips of Logan’s ears red.

The Intrusive Thoughts side never looked as hawt as he did just then, and Logan would have probably given anything in that moment to freeze time, so that he may enjoy the sight for as long as he wished.

“Holy sh-t, you really are turned on! Heh, must suck to be attracted to the bad guy, huh Logic?” And just like that Logan was snapped out of his distressed state and sat up straight in the chair. The lust that he had once felt was gone and now he wished he had just one arm free. He wanted to reach out to Remus desperately. “Remus…I know this won’t sound as if I’m being sincere because you will think I’m just saying this because of your clothes but I’m still going to say it.”

“Remus, I never once thought of you as the villain.” Logan took the moment to make sure the green colored side was seriously looking at him.

“You are not a bad guy, Remus. You did your job as a side nothing more nothing less. You can’t help that you were dealt the dreadful cards but just because you were, it does not in any way make you evil. Or the villain or the antihero.” “Or even a dark sid-“ Logan gasped loudly as the tentacle suddenly released him and he was roughly pulled forward. A hand had wrapped around his tie and jerked him towards the table, nearly causing him to fall off his chair.

More than that, his gasp was silenced as lips fell upon his in a deep bruising kiss. It was a surprise and just for a moment something within Logan yelled at him to pull away, yet he quickly dismissed such a thought. Instead he leaned into the action and once he got his bearings returned the passion that Remus was sharing with him. It was only when he placed his hand on Remus’s cheek that he realized the other was crying. “Shut up.” Remus wept once the two finally separated but Remus didn’t let go of the tie. He held onto it in a death grip. “You gotta shut up! You-you can’t say things like that when your looking so f--kable, Lo.”

“No.” Logan replied once he was able to catch his breath.

“I won’t stop saying it. You need to know what I think! You need to know that even without the suit, I have always thought you were beautiful. That I secretly have had a small crush on you.” Logan admitted as he tried to turn his head away. Remus stopped him by grabbing his jaw once again. “F—k, Logan.” Remus whispered then brought their lips together again for another kiss. This one just as passionate as the first but was shorter. Remus smirked at the whimper Logan let out once he had pulled away. “Me too. I was mad crushing on you for so long, Apple Watch.” Logic chuckled at the nickname, knowing there was no meanness behind the words. They sat there in silence just holding onto one another. If there was certainly a moment that Logan wanted to last for eternity, then it would have been this one. The two of them in each other’s embrace letting their feelings be shared by touch alone. “This sucks.” Remus finally groaned as he nuzzled his forehead against the blue colored side’s. “What do you mean?” “I want to f—k you so bad right now. I want to make love to you for so long that you wouldn’t even be able to get up if Thomas called for you.” Remus pressed his lips to Logan’s once more and though he made sure to make it last longer than the second time, he still pulled away too soon for Logic’s liking. “But I won’t. You need sleep. I may be intrusive thoughts, but I won’t take advantage of you when your practically dead on your feet. I hate to say it, but we waited this long, what’s seven more hours, am I right?” Logan grasped onto the hand that was still secure around his tie. “You promise me that we will pursue this after I sleep? I won’t just wake up and have to go back to believing that I never even cross your mind?”

Logan’s fears were answered with another kiss, a gentle reassuring one this time. “Seven hours, then you’ll never be rid of me again, Glasses.” Logic chuckled at the answer, though it seemed forced. He didn’t want to continue these next few hours alone. Not when they had at last admitted out loud and to each other about what they felt for one another. Remus was right though, Logan was dead on his feet. These last few moments without his laptop had given his body the chance to let the months of backed up exhaustion wash over him. He was convinced he wouldn’t even had been able to stay awake through foreplay let alone other sexual activities. He had Remus’s word. Once he awoke, they would explore this relationship further, or at least he hoped this thing between them would turn into a relationship.

Logan jumped as Remus deeply chuckled. “Go, Logan. Go to bed. I can practically hear your thoughts from over here. We’ll talk when you’re up.” Logan rose from the chair but before sinking out he was the one who initiated a kiss this time. He even made sure to run his tongue along Remus’s lips causing the neon green side to groan loudly in need.

Logan pulled away with a victorious smirk. “Until then, Octo.” Remus smirked as the Logical side sank down through the floor. He ran his fingertips along his lips still faintly feeling Logan’s own lips against them. “I’ll see you soon, Lollipop.” ~ Bonus ~ Remus did his best to stay away. He really had but as the hours dragged on and on, he was getting more and more impatient. It was finally just one hour left. Remus wouldn’t dare wake the side but that didn’t mean he couldn’t go to his room. Right? Remus sank out in front of Logan’s door quietly. It was now the middle of the afternoon. The other sides were up and about doing their daily endeavors. He was thankful that Thomas hadn’t called for them all. He probably would have tried, and of course fail since he was imaginary, to punch Thomas in the face if he had even tried to call for Logan while the side finally slept.

Remus didn’t think on that any further and instead tried Logan’s door. If he stood out here any longer one of the others might see him. It was a shock that the door opened for him. He didn’t wait too long to think about it and quickly shuffled into the room, silently closing the door behind him. He hadn’t awakened Logan by entering the room. That was a good start. He crossed the room with ease since there was a soft glowing night light on the far side of the room. Once he made it to the edge of Logan’s bed it was there that he paused. Would it be too bold of him to join Logan? He wouldn’t touch the sleeping Logical side but would it still be too much if he got into the blue side’s bed? Before his thoughts to tumble into the mess of what ifs, he took the chance. He let his shirt disappear but left on a pair of comfy sleep pants. He eased into the open space in Logan’s bed and happily sighed as he sank into the perfect pillows and mattress. He let himself drift between awake and sleep, but his eyes opened as he felt Logan turn towards him as the hour came to an end. Logan didn’t react once he felt another being in his bed, he just rolled towards it in curiosity. Once he saw the wisps of white bangs and the constellation of freckles upon ivory skin, a smile shaped upon his face. “Good morning, Octo.” “Morin’, Lollipop.”

~The End!!~~

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