Tw: SA (sexual harassment/assault - there's no non-con), manipulative behaviour, slight anxiety attack symptoms, violence
Masterlist
When you get to his door, your cheek is swelling. Yet you can't seem to knock.
But you're so hurt, and all you want is the cool touch of his fingers telling you that it would be all right.
So when your knuckles rest against the door, the tears welling in your eyes and try to tell yourself he isn't home. He could be anywhere else, it was the middle of the day, but you have no idea why you're hoping he's inside.
Your phone is going off, your heart quickened when his name flashed on the screen.
Your chest quakes when you answer, and you allow him to speak first.
"How is Miss Producer today? I spy the sun shining outside; is your proposal finished yet?"
You almost stifle your cry of relief when the muffled voice is also echoing in his apartment. Your sharp breath is covered by his next sentence. Was it Lucien's day off?
"Oh? I seem to hear my own voice - could it be that you're outside my door?" his voice is teasing, but suddenly you're turning away from the door, terrified of the look that might circle in his eyes if he saw your face.
The door opens against your will, and you hunch away from the white shape of him filling his doorway.
"... What's wrong?" his voice is suddenly quiet, serious, your name in his question begging for an answer.
But you only silence sharply, trying to keep echoing breaths still. But they push out, filling the channel of space between you with your breaking agony.
There's a short moment of silence before you feel the tug of his hand on your shoulder, forcing you to turn into his gaze.
"Who did this to you?" the first question snaps from his mouth, the threat underlying in his voice as his cool, kind fingers dare to trace the air above your cheek, an apology written in nothing but grief.
You shake, unable to find words, tears spilling from your eyes and suddenly you are clinging to him. Despite the fear that stashed away in your heart, you wanted him to hold you back.
"Oh my precious girl, come inside." his hand sweeps over your head, like a wing of a cradle, and holds you gently.
His fingers trace your hair, as you refuse to move, legs like ice-picks frozen in place.
"It's okay now, you're here." he murmured, "You're safe." his nose brushed your hair as you begin to cry harder, sobs clawing through your spine. He allows you to cry, you two huddled in his doorway until your breath finally wavers, and then halts.
"Can we go inside? I would like to make you some tea." his voice murmurs, and if you wanted to stay in place for minute longer, you knew he would if you asked.
You minutely nod your head into his chest, and he slowly separates from you. He allows you to look down at the floorboards as his arm coalesce around your shoulders like a settling firefly, guiding you inside.
He would have liked to take you to sit on his sofa, but the way you cling to his bubble of space, he is worried that if he allows you to drift away from him now, you wouldn't return.
And the very thought terrifies him. More than anything else.
So he keeps his arm around you, slides to lightly keep a hand on your arm as he flicks on the kettle, and to adjust your positions as he fetches two mugs from the cupboard. The ones you said were your favourites, and had bought for him months before with a grin he had tried to stop remembering.
He'd never felt as if he could capture that sparkle in your eyes. The one that makes people fall in love at the most inopportune times. People like Victor, people like that insipid police officer.
And people like him, who had once thought they'd been above such vulnerabilties - and joy.
The sparkling glint that now held to him like an open flame to skin, and had left that lasting impression in his ruddy, bruised heart. The one he'd tried to crease into a hundred pages, only to find it blotted out, unattainable, like the cursed man who could never reach fruit from the tree or water from the pond - and the fear that he could never find it again in your eyes again. A wild fear if that glint in your eyes never came back.
And that glint is what made him want to sear it thousand times into the bastard who had ever dared lay a finger on you. Wanted to snap bone by bone by bone, as if that would make a difference to clear the pain from your lips. The impossible - that someone could ever dare to scrape that beautiful, trusting gleam from your tear-seeped eyes.
"I assume that we still do not enjoy the mint variety of tea?" his voice is catching your interest, because it flickers to him briefly, but your laugh is choked behind the miasma of pain in your gaze.
His hands momentarily tremble.
If it were possible, he would dig his teeth into your flesh and suck away all the poison, needle out the pain and the fear which stung the words from you.
He's grabbing the medical kit and ice pack now, thankful for the fact that they were in the kitchen, thankful his hands had something to clench before he guides you to the sofa. Carefully, he settled you down
That you don't notice the long, slow breath before he steps away, finding himself unwilling to leave, as if seconds shouldn't be just moments of sand hanging through the crux of a hourglass.
He glances at your unending stare at his projector and his throat squeezes. He kneels down, taking up your vision, as he places the medical kit down on your knees, gentle as a doe.
"I'm going to get our tea. Would you open my medical kit and get out the white tube for me, please?" he instructs, his voice a calm, bidding wave.
Much like a doctor who had faced terror for a thousand days and strode out with no wound, he walked into the kitchen, the splotches of calm leaving his heart. The thunder hounds his chest, like a dead corpse thudding itself against his ribcage.
His hands tremble, but he brushes his hair back, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve and by then, his tremors have been mastered.
Stable now, he's carried the mugs back out, and there's relief when that little white tube is being fiddled with by your fingers.
"What do you need this for?" your voice is small, still clogged with emotion.
He placed himself next to you, a thin line of air between your legs, as he wrapped the squidgy icepack in a thin tea-towel.
"It's arnica cream." he explained, keeping his voice low, and soft, as if any higher would fracture you like glass.
Your cheek was red, and he knew that it would be throbbing for a while longer. Despite the bitterness on his tongue, the desire to print out each bit of your story, and lacercate a perfectly decent book with his hands, he raised the ice pack.
You allowed him to press it against your face, despite the a small whimper at the coolness. He wove your fingers over it, so you could hold it on your own.
Then he popped open the paracetamol, the two white pills rolled in his hand like burdened snowflakes. He leant over to hold the glass of water he'd not had time to sip on before calling you earlier.
"When you're ready, you can take this." he fought back the desire to question you as you clutched onto the icepack. Patience today had been like gripping a knife, and with each moment he spent tending to you, the more time he couldn't figure out what had gone so horribly wrong, who he needed to punish.
When you gingerly set down the ice-pack, you took the pills with relieved gratitude, and he hated that it brought more tears to your eyes.
He breathed out again, little more than a sigh, and this time, you caught him.
"What's wrong?" you whispered, peering at him like a child, worry pressing in your lips.
"You worried me." he raised the icepack back up to your cheek, and even though your wince was there, you laced your fingers on his like a good girl.
"I'm sorry." your words creak out, teary.
He looked up, a crease between his brows, and his eyes flickered, "Don't apologise. You have no need to." without meaning to, he asked the other question that bit him warningly, "Did you intend to not tell me of this? Had I not called, would you have even knocked?"
His voice is scalding, hotter than he intended, and he somehow doesn't know why it was so hard to remain neutral.
And it's all the worse when you flinch. He drops his hands like a pin.
"I apologise - that was unkind of me." he breathed, looking at the white bottle that had ended up in his lap, and he shook his head.
Was it shame that lingered in his chest, now?
He twists the lid off the bottle, biting his tongue before deciding to tend to the other wound on you.
It was far easier to tend to himself, than it was to you. The pain, while localised when on himself, had never burnt as much as when it was you.
He pooled some of the white cream onto his fingers, the strange heady smell of the herb wafting in the air.
"May I tend to your wrist?" he subtly indicated to the side where your arm, that wasn't holding the icepack, lay curled against you.
You blink, eyes widening as your gaze fell to your wrist, as if you had forgotten the dull throbbing it emmitted.
And you had, when your cheek had stung and throbbed harder.
You nod, watching as he carefully takes your hand, and places it on his knee. You freeze as he begins to brush cream on your reddened skin, the cool, soothing herbal smell almost tingling against the red heat of your wrist. His pressure is just there, only dipping to turn your wrist over, and brushing over the lighter coloured rash.
"I would like to know who did this to you,..." his voice brushes the air, tender as the moon kissing the sea with its beams, as his fingers brushed over your wrist with the last smudges of cream disappearing.
Your name on his lips is a plea within a question, and guilt curls against your stomach protectively.
You don't want to answer.
"Please, it's nothing." your voice hovers. You don't want to think about it.
Lucien's eyes flickered, and the light wavered in his eyes. His lips curved downwards.
The sight had the guilt growing. The look on his face made you feel worse, as if you had robbed him of something far more precious than a simple explanation.
You press your face into the ice pack, the gel inside merging to your face as you hid. You couldn't look at his face, not while he was looking so upset.
"How am I supposed not to worry, when I don't know what hurt you?" his voice sighed, like a disappointed teacher.
"Stop. Please, Lucien. It's over now. It won't happen again." your voice muffled, and the feeling of his sad, glinting eyes made you want to curl into his sofa.
He tentatively pulled away the ice pack from your eyes, and he peers at you as if you were one of the kids he worked with at the orphanage - the time he sorted out that argument between Josi and Marco. The patience of a tiger, but the compassion of a saint.
He finally pulled away, and the distance fell between you two like a landslide, the fear of him leaving snagged against your heart.
"Lucien - I -" you grasped the edge of his sleeve, and he looks back at you passively.
"Please, don't leave. I'm sorry -" you whisper, head hanging, and you shift your weight with the icepack, feeling your arm tiring.
"I'm here for as long as you need me to be, silly girl." his voice coaxed back the warmth into the room, "I'm here." he gently stroked a knuckle down your hand.
You shiver, but not in fear, and worrying that he would misunderstand, you grasp onto his hand, preventing him from leaning away. It was so cool, his hand, and part of you worried that he should hold something warmer, like his mug. You squeezed it, as if you could send him your warmth, and focused your gaze on the backs of his fine-boned knuckles
"It was at work, and we had this new singer in." you start, finding your, gaze focused on the light blue veins under the skin of his hands, "He's this big thing over in Europe, and we managed to snag him for an interview before his show today." you stop, your voice having gained a tremble - and you force yourself to breathe out - just like Lucien had taught you, once.
The calm, proud squeeze of his hand made you smile despite the throb of your cheek.
"So, so - we could have a fifteen minute slot whilst he's waiting to go on, in between tech rehearsals." and you could feel it in Lucien's hand, when he found the hypothesis laid in the words you didn't say.
"What were his requirements?" there was nothing but gentle honesty in his voice, nothing but sweet, gentle honey that would attract the birds from their nests - but inside, you had this feeling there was steel somewhere, edging around them.
You shook your head, and your throat closed up, "He -" your breaths had turned shaky, and then, all you could feel was his arms around you, pulling your body into his. The soft, plush movement of finding his chest, and allowing his arms to raise the gates of the world around you.
"Shhh. It's okay, it's all gone now." the voice uttered, and there was a soft sensation of his knuckles revrently caressing your hair, "What did he ask for?"
It was facing his chest, and in his arms, you told him of the man demanding a solo interviewer, of going in bravely, boldly, with your recorder pen, and how your blouse was stained with cold coffee when you said no. How he should help you get out of it - and tried when his fingers grasped your wrists, and when you tried to scream, how your cheek swung back into the door frame.
How you had only been able to kick him messily in the shin before you could grab onto the door, slam it into him as you scarpered - and left everything behind, apart from you clutching your phone as you cryingly told Anna the interview was a bust.
The words were like stones hitting the ground, each harder against the growing pile, clanging. The awful pounding in your head yawned wider. Your eyes teared again, spilling onto his shirt, staining it. You tried to move away, to stop wrecking his very nice, soft, expensive clothes, but his arms turned to steel around you, his comfort burying into you like the softest adornments.
"Shhh. Stay here in my arms now. It's much easier this way, my silly girl." he murmured, "I am very proud of you, not just for fighting. For returning home and for telling me." he paused, "Are you tired? Why don't you take a nap, it will be a little while longer before the painkillers take affect."
You look at him, "I should probably get back to work, - Anna will be -"
"I'll take care of that," Lucien petted your hair, and leant away for his gaze to rove over you, "You're in no fit state to work like this... You are always telling me to rest when I feel ill, so now I am telling you the same. You must follow your own advice, or else what incentive does that give me?" you can feel the seriousness of his tone, despite the tease in his voice. You look down, finding it hard to refute him.
"But I still need to - if I can't get this interview done, then it affects our monthly report - I'll need to tell Victor -" your voice stops as Lucien puts a stern finger to your lips.
"I will make all the necessary arrangements, tell me what you need - make a list, and I will bring it home for you. Victor will understand." he brushes a finger over your unblemished cheek, and gently pulls the ice-pack from you, now luke-warm.
"I'll go put this back in the freezer for later. Please, make yourself at home on the sofa, I'll come back to tuck you in." he raised a teasing eyebrow before moving from the sofa, taken his undrunk, cold tea with him.
You find yourself at a loss, and yet the pulling tiredness is at the forefront of your mind. You quickly jot a list down, sending it to him as a text for the things at the office you'd need to stay at home to do work.
The idea of walking back into your office with that slapped cheek that screamed assault to everyone - would be highly unprofessional, let alone the mortifying truth after having brushed Anna's concern off. Carrying yourself back through the streets, unable to even think of going through a subway, or getting a taxi, trying to hide under the locks of your hair from prying eyes...
You were exhausted. And a nap, tucked away in the safety of Lucien's home, with him watching over you, sent a tremor of relief through you.
The idea of nightmares seemed like too great a reality. If Lucien was around, he'd chase them away.
Sighing in defeat, and odd, helpless relief, you curl into a healthily stuffed cushion, trying to spy a blanket.
Suddenly, a warm, oblong material rained over your body, and Lucien's chuckle emenated from above, "Now you're looking cosy, kitten."
You duck, mortification in your protest, "'M not a kitten!"
"Hmm." he replied, and you suddenly find Lucien's face hovering above your own, his eyes twinkling, "I happen to find myself in disagreement. But, I think it will be better if this little kitten goes to sleep."
You huff, unable to stop your smile, and mumble thank you as you feel him graciously tuck in the blanket around, as respectful as a gentleman.
He pretends not to hear it, allowing your huffiness to tickle the air instead.
"Goodnight, little kitten. I'll be back soon." his breath kisses the air, and you watch him as he leaves, in a soft, expanding wonder as the man you had never thought would be your refuge, slips back into the world on your behalf and leaves you safe on your little planet, in his.
You don't hear about the singer again. It's Kiro himself on Instagram that you suddenly see the singer's name, that sends the rushing fear through you, when you find Kiro condemning the singer for his actions. Footage and recordings had been released from multiple sources, previous staff on his payroll, as well accounts from venue and hotel staff all claiming they had the same issue; sexual harassment and aggression. The singer was reviled by all who would speak of his name. To this day, people wondered if Key had been behind the news reveal of the singer.
But no one ever knew quite how he got his limp.
###
We all love a good story! Especially when it's Lucien taking care of you. >o< come get your daily dose of angst everyone (q^q)
I’m sorry this has taken so long. It’s been in my drafts for over a year but I wanted to keep up with the monthly posts and felt inspired to write something even if it wasn’t long.
Scenario: Are there any inner demons they can never seem to get rid of? What are they?
KIRO
lies
Seeing you again heals something inside of him. He didn’t know it was possible to be broken and yet healed at the same time. When you offered him kindness not knowing who he is for the second time he felt something in him break at the same time something else was healed.
He wants to make sure that you never remember in truth. It was the darkest time in his life, a time without the sunshine he’s becoming synonymous for. Happiness for him was a hand in his and the taste of sour apples on his tongue. Now happiness is a bright smile and a shared bag of chips.
When you start asking all the wrong questions - right questions - he finds strength in places he didn’t know. The lingering taste of something sour lingers in his mouth as he wills his eyes not to change. Fights back the overwhelming urge to keep your second chance at innocence intact.
He hates himself a little bit with how easy it is to use the evol that he cursed in childhood to make you turn away. To show you the sides of him that he knows are lovable. The bright shinning idol instead of the hacker weaving webs to catch his prey.
VICTOR
truth
You’ve been gone from him - lost - for so long that you’ve become a concept more than a person. He has to remind himself that not only are you real and here with him, but that you don’t appear to recognize him. That a moment and time he treasures deeply isn’t even a blip on your radar.
He won’t admit how much it haunts him to taste a recreation of a sweet that started the best part of his childhood - the best and the worst. To see you there, whole and healthy without knowing who he is. He wants to take you in his arms and stop time again. To tell you everything he’s held inside since you were torn apart.
Watching you get mixed up in things that he would shelter you from if given the chance pains him. He doesn’t want to see you back in the same place where you left him. He can’t - knows he won’t - survive a repeat.
He can stop time, but time stopped for him when you gave everything for him. Now he has a chance to give back but in a twisted way. Helping you fund shows that give you a smile but put you in so much danger. Watching as you run headlong back in to the very place you escaped from.
All the while he has to keep silent. He can’t tell you the truth.
GAVIN
change
If he couldn’t even tell you in person what he felt, how much you meant, back then - how could he even come close to it now? It keeps him up late at night as he thinks about all the ways he could tell you everything. Leaving nothing out so you would be able to make a choice and save yourself - he could save you the way you saved him.
He rises above the rumors of his past, becoming someone he knew he could be. lets himself believe that he doesn’t have to do more to ensure your safety. To give you the life you gave back to him.
Then it spirals out of his control faster than he could have ever imagined. He knows he needs to be faster, stronger with his evol, more powerful. Climbing the ranks until he has the authority to make the decision to improve everything about himself.
When you look at him you're only seeing a fraction of who he has become - what he has become. You’ve barely reconciled the delinquent you thought you knew, to the officer who helps you. If you knew everything about who he has become would you regret saving his life that day?
LUCIEN
manipulation
He has a lot of feelings about the sheer amount of manipulation that he does in his daily life. Leading a double life aside, there is a certain amount of sneaking around and sleight of hand that is required in his profession.
That being said, the closer he gets to you and the more you become a person. Someone with hopes, dreams, feelings - the harder it is for him to use his usual tactics.
The thoughts that it shouldn’t have to be “for the mission” and “a necessary step” start to come more frequently until he has to consciously remind himself why he does what he does.
It gets to the point where giving you all the answers to every question would likely take you irrevocably out of his life. Of course you wouldn’t want to stay with him when he is not just part of the shadowy organization causing you problems, but orchestrating it. Playing a role that he created to better serve what he had once believed - should still believe - as the ultimate goal.
The word shy seemed to be missing from Kiro’s vocabulary. He was full of love for you and he never seemed to be ashamed of when to show it, rarely stopping to consider your own emotions or embarrassment.
If anything, you were the one who started to feel overwhelmed by the sheer amount of attention afforded to you by Kiro, it was difficult not to be. You would rarely get a moments peace from the constant affection he wished to show you. He constantly wanted to hold onto some part of you.
There were some days you wished he would just give you one day with a modest, by his standards, amount of affection, so you could feel just a little bit less suffocated. You had grown so accustomed to his constant displays of love, that without him there, you felt isolated. After that experience you learned to appreciate his presence, when he would swoop you up in his arms like there was no one else in the world apart from the both of you.
Lucien
Lucien really seems to depend on his mood and location. Somedays he wants to hold you close and kiss your forehead without consideration for the rest of the world, and then on other days, his focus lays elsewhere and it slips his mind. He’s responsible enough to understand that there is always a Time and a place for these things, and that didm’t really bother you.
When it comes to public displays of affection, Lucien would find himself often in a more nonchalant mood about it all, he would slip an arm around your shoulder while you’d be standing around having a casual conversation with your colleagues, and sometimes you would find yourself embarrassed by these interactions.
His efforts of maintaining a cool composure in front of you were somewhat discarded, he was no longer the cool guy, that wasn’t to say he didn’t try and carry himself like that at times, but he didn’t deny himself the simple pleasures of your relationships; like kissing you under the glistening sunset or holding your hand as you strolled through the moonlit streets. He knew better than anyone that life was precious, and that all too soon, you could lose the person you cared for the most, he didn’t want his lack of attention towards you to be a regret in his life.
Gavin
Gavin is driven by his want to be close to you, if he feels the desire to touch you, whether in a warm embrace or a kiss on the lips, he never tries to hide those feelings from you. It’s difficult now he has you trapped with him for him to even grasp the idea of suppressing his affections towards you. At first you weren’t even sure if you enjoyed the amount of eyes you would feel travel in your direction from the amount of affection he shows you, but eventually you grew to enjoy the attention from him.
Gavin keeps you close at all times, a hand around your hip while you walk together, a kiss to your head, a kiss on the lips, it’s all too sweet for you.
Eventually Gavin just started pulling you away from ever watching gazes of those around, pulling you into a hallway, round the side of a building, into a shaded alley, though this often leaves you looking strange to onlookers in some circumstances it also leaves you looking like two mischievous children about to pull a prank. It didn’t seem to bother Gavin though. He needs his daily doses of affection, and he’ll do anything to get it from you.
Victor
Victor wasn’t so much one for PDA, not because he didn’t love you, but it wasn’t something he particularly viewed as the most professional behaviour he could exhibit in his role. Most of the time he dealt with people on a business only level, so he communication outside of business anyway for those in his personal life could often leave a lot to be desired, but you were willing to accept that about him, because he’s still the man whom you fell in love with.
It took a while for Victor to warm up to the idea that the both of you were legitimately together, it wasn’t even that he didn’t understand the intricacies of being in a relationship but instead it was more the ideals he’d held so long about being the picture of professionalism. He’s unlikely to initiate anything beyond the bare minimum hands holding with yourself unless he is told to, but would certainly not push you away from him if you were to try something, in fact away from being alone he prefers it, it lets him know you want him close to you.
You could hold his hand, or even kiss him in public and he wouldn’t be embarrassed by it, he just assumes you know far more about the ins and outs of relationships far more than he does, so he simply allows you to take the lead.
Hello I’m back after… awhile but been wanting to do housemates headcannons
PLEASE DRINK RESPONSIBLY🙏 as they may not lol
Victor - Red, Lucien - Purple, Kiro - Orange, Gavin - Blue, Shaw - Green, MC (You) - Pink
I'm changing MC to where she has a good alcohol tolerance and is a bit of a party girl herself
Okay now onto the actual headcanon
They do parties from casual get togethers to formal events to drinking like they’re in college
Rating: Mature
Casual Get Togethers
Just a few friends and co-workers for holidays, casual birthdays, and regular cookouts
Victor is normally the cook for this with the help of Gavin
Gavin is such a grill type of man
They’ll cook as friends are coming over with a movie playing
In the summer they have pool parties
Lucien would be in charge of taking photos of Kiro in his swim trunks to post online for later, gotta feed the fans
When they have a get together in the house there will be a few drinking games
Truth or Drink goes crazy because I know for sure none of the housemates except for MC will answer really personal questions
"Body count?" "Craziest drunken experience?" "Have you ever had a wet dream about MC?"
After that truth or drink wasn't allowed to be played anymore in the future
If it's just the housemates sitting around doing games then they'll be slightly more open
At the end when friends leaves, MC falls asleep on the couch with one cuddling her and the others continuing their conversation
“I’m telling you there’s a raccoon going through our trash.”
“We either call animal control or get rid of it ourselves.”
“Hey, you guys leave Chunky King Bob alone!”
“Great he’s named it…”
Formal Events
They have a whole mansion that's big enough to do an actual formal event
Victor and Kiro are normally the host as it’s kinda required for their reputation
Honestly, both wouldn't do them if they didn't feel obligated for work
Victor, Lucien, Kiro, and MC are the planning committee
Sorry Gavin doesn't have the imagination for this and Shaw is lazy
They'll hold meetings in Victor's office or in the dining room
Most of the time it's a black-tie event but a few times it's themed
The entire house goes on a cleaning rampage the days before
Victor punishes anyone who slacks off by making them wash the dirty garbage cans outside
Really Shaw’s punishment most of the time
Also I know Victor is going to be some animal in heat seeing you all dolled out
Just seeing the jewelry set he bought you decorating your neck and ears is doing something to this poor man
As you're getting ready before the guests start showing, he comes in your room to "check on things" but will just watch you get dress
Slow makeout session happens and when someone knocks, he'll leave pretending like he really was checking on things
"MC have you see my blue tie? Huh, Victor what're you doing?"
"Checking to make sure MC did her tasks."
You're just standing there flushed
Be prepared to be starstruck by the number of celebrities you'll see for Kiro's big birthday event
Lucien and Gavin will sneak you out of there to get alone time separately
"It's stuffy in here."
"Let's go get some fresh air."
You'll be out with them for a while having personal conversations that both of you lose track of time
Their eyes staring so lovingly into yours, never breaking eye contact, hands holding yours or rubbing your sides
THE TRIANGLE METHOD (EYES, LIPS, EYES) PLS LET ME OUT OF MY CAGE
More slow makeout sessions and boy do they want to keep going for the rest of the party
Like the Bachelorette when they have the one one-on-one convos
If Kiro or Victor find out they'll be the most grumpy toward you, imagine a pet that's giving you the silent treatment for not feeding them a third time
"While I had to have meaningless conversations with everyone, I wanted to be with you. Seems you didn't care."
Give the pouty idol your undivided attention for the next couple of hours and he'll immediately forgive you but good luck on Victor
To the housemates, it's a genuine mystery on where Shaw goes in the middle of the event
They'll see him but a second later he's gone missing for the next couple of hours
“Where’s Shaw?”
“I thought he was with you…”
“I thought he was with Gavin.”
“You need me? Did everyone leave already?”
“What the-”
“It’s been three hours.”
Clubbing/Partying
Normally all of you won't go partying together, even if someone invites the housemates out, only a few will go
Gavin, Kiro, and Shaw are always out with you having a blast
I don't ever see Victor or Lucien coming out for these
High levels of socializing and drinking just aren't them and they'll barely talk to each other while everyone's gone
Gavin is the DD (designated driver) and sober dad
Think of the meme with the dad having his children on the backpack leashes going in the opposite direction, that's him but with 3 adults
Kiro will be dancing with you, or drunk rants to someone while Shaw is doing beer pong
Shaw loves being by your side and his hand wrapped around rested on your hip
As much as Gavin and Shaw don't get along, Gavin always checks on Shaw and steps in the way if some drunks try to pick a fight
Back to the house, you're drunk along with Kiro, jumping practically off the walls
Victor and Lucien trying to get yall to drink water
You'll sing praises to everyone about Gavin taking care of everyone
When you're lying in bed, Shaw will sneak in to sleep with you
"Feeling lonely?"
"No, knowing you, you'll wake up hungover. Going to need someone to hold back your hair when you're yaking."
He'll never say the real reason to just cuddle
The only times all housemates go out to party and drink is the rare clubbing occasions
Normally high end clubs
Everyone dressed in their clubbing/partying outfits
The boys will wear nice button ups or plain t-shirts with pants that will go along while you wear a backless top and miniskirt
In the club they’ll reserve a table…for the Li family? so they can immediately sit down and start drinking
We all know Lucien says he’s a good drinker but he’s really not as he doesn’t space out his shots
You’re not helping as it’s shot o’clock every 30 minutes with you
“For going out! For finishing the week! For housemates bonding!”
“Okay, I think that’s enough. Also, Lucien you don’t have to keep taking the shots.”
“Haha, I’m fine.”
Takes a lot of pleading from all of you to have Gavin and Victor drink up (sober dads on break)
From there on things ramp up!!!
Everyone loosens up a lot and have the funniest conversations
Talking about inside jokes to personal stories
Later on the dance floor you’ll be grinding on one of them then the next and making out
The types of drunks: Lucien - possessive drunk, Kiro - happy drunk, Shaw - funny drunk, Victor - horny drunk, Gavin - crying drunk
Lucien’s Ares side come out a lot more that he just wants to be in your embrace and no one touches you
Takes a while for you to calm him down and let the others be near you
“Why did you let him kiss you?”
“Lucien, you also did too. It wouldn’t be fair to the others. Let’s all have fun.”
Kiro is the type to legit constantly compliment anyone and give some motivation speech as if they’re about to jump off a cliff
“Youu’re soo handsome and kind b-but I feel you don’t even know it.”
Shaw’s jokes are so perfectly timed with his expressions that everyone’s sides hurt from laughing, funny how he’s so calm when he says it
“I’m one drink closer to getting a tramp stamp.”
Victor isn’t a big fan on PDA but now he wants you to give him a lap dance mid club and says the dirtiest stuff
Even Lucien and Victor are at war while drunk
“You love the feeling of rubbing yourself against me.”
Poor Gavin has so much regret that he starts pouring out normally to Kiro about wishing he did things differently
“When I left I should have had-had more courage to tell her what I felt but I did not-I didn’t.”
“I get what you’re feeling! Trust me ev-everything has been working out. Like you’re here with Miss Chips getting wasted!!”
Ride share dropping all of you back home still drunk but trying to sober up, everyone is seriously tripping over themselves, laughing controllably
Trying to drink water and devour leftovers
After awhile everyone decides except Victor to sleep in his room because he has the biggest and comfiest bed
As everyone is falling asleep curled up to MC or snuggled in the comforter they knock out
Hello, all you beautiful people🥰 SMUT SMUT SMUT—
This is an NSFW drabble
Hope you enjoy~
The voice he uses when he wakes me. Husky and low. Sometimes it’s due to tiredness, lack of sleep, and work. Other times—most of the time, it’s the knowledge that my body tingles with goosebumps when I hear it close to the shell of my ear.
“Morning…,” he exhales softly against my ear that it tickles. The rough layers reverberate through me, fluttering around in my lower belly. The breath I take in is quick to calm my beating heart yet it is futile when his hand languidly traces the band of my panties over my cream nightgown. The hem has ridden up to my thigh and this does not go unnoticed by officer Gavin’s keen eyes.
My voice comes out lazily. “Mmm morning.” The band stretches and smacks lightly on my hips as his fingers play with it. I bite the inside of my mouth, guide his naughty hand to my soaking pussy that awaits his fingers and the moan that escapes me is immediate when his fingers slip in and come into contact with the bud of nerves.
It’s aching when one finger slips in, followed by another. They move without hesitation, those nimble fingers. My toes curl inwards, soft moans of his name escape my lips. Then I feel it, his hardened cock grinding against me, the quivering sighs teasing my ear knowing full well how it shoots sparks straight to my core, that it only serves to make me more hot and wet.
My body’s on fire and it coils further and further into a tight knot desperately waiting for the inevitable snap that would release me into oblivion. “Almost there,” he whispers as he adds another finger. His lips rest on my temple leaving a few kisses. The couple of moans I let out are the only response he gets. His fingers are unrelenting in their mission, slamming in and out, teasing the bud of nerves—the friction as he rolls his cock to my ass makes me see stars.
“Ga-gavin...” In my fogged out brains the squelching sounds register—it’s erotic and like a moth drawn to a flame my body responds to it, making me moan louder. The way I am right now—naked, vulnerable, an incoherent mess and on the verge of falling apart, it’s only for his eyes. I aimlessly find something to grip as I near the breaking point, the bedsheet is my victim but it slips away easily. Almost instantly, Gavin’s idle hand envelopes mine, our fingers fill the spaces between.
“Thank y-ahhhh!” I grip onto his hand as I reach the blinding crest and feel my whole body tremble with overwhelming relief and satisfaction. It takes moments for my body to come down from the high, moments where I’m breathing hard, where Gavin licks his fingers clean, showers me with kisses everywhere he lays his lips on, runs his fingers through my hair with praises from his lips.
I turn to face him, meet his lips in a deep kiss. My hand travels to the obvious bulge, I don’t need to see to know what the dampness means. He shudders with a groan, eyes darting to mine and away from them in a second, hand on my hips bunching the fabric of my nightgown. And of course a red hue dusts his skin, ears in its wonted heavy colour.
“It’s your turn,” I say softly. He puts his hand over mine, shaking his head. “It’s okay. You have to get ready for work,” he pats my bottom prompting me to leave the bed. Leave him alone as he takes care of himself. Who’s he fooling?
I push his hand away, look into his whiskey eyes that are clearly dilated and hungry and decide I won’t let him deny me the bliss I feel when I satiate his needs. I grip his clothed cock a little harshly and look directly at him when he moans.
“You want me?”
He starts and swallows, blushes deeper and then nods, dark whiskey eyes never leaving mine. “Answer me,” I move to his jaw and pepper it with kisses.
“Yes,” Gavin says, his voice tight.
The kiss is hard and sloppy as my hand slips into his boxer and hold his aching cock.
“Then let me take care of you…”
-
A/N: Thank you for reading❤️
It's been far too long people. I've been busy with college, exams, results and the aftermath of being plunged into "the world." I just graduated and am in the midst of finding a job. It's tough and I've been adjusting to this new normal. So, I haven't had the mood to sit down and let my writing juices flow. But I'm working on something and this is part 1 of a smut series.
AND credits to @cafekitsune for the lovely dividers😚
Everyone if you need dividers to pretty up your posts, please check out the blog~ The creator has some awesome dividers!
Taglist: @playheej @purple-cat-demon @rinharu-purple (if you want to join my taglist, please visit my blog and click the link available on my pinned post)
If you’re up to it, would you do MLQC Gavin’s NSFW alphabet?
Hi anon! Thanks for waiting 1,117 days for me to answer this. Unfortunately, since the Incident between Elex, the Chinese Government, and the original English VAs, it's unlikely I'm ever going to return to MLQC, so I'll give you the four letters I did complete.
Gavin's NSFW Alphabet: A, E, F, U
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Gavin is an aftercare hero. He’s there with the cuddles, the wet cloth, and gently nagging you to go to the bathroom before you fall asleep.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Not as experienced as you might assume from how good he is at this. There was some fumbling in the dark in high school, until he met MC and then every other girl in school just ceased to exist for him. It wasn’t until his final year at the police academy that he even noticed women again, and aside from a few first dates and one memorably ill-advised one-night-stand at graduation, Gavin’s love life has been quiet.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Gavin’s personal favourite is the position referred to by Women’s Health Magazine as the ‘reverse scoop’ - face to face, on his side, legs tangled together so he can hold her close in his arms.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
At the beginning of your relationship, Gavin takes things far too seriously, too reverently to tease. But as you stay together and he stops feeling quite so much like this is a dream, he begins to take pleasure in riling you a little when he knows you can’t respond.
