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onabat11e · 5 months

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can't keep my hands to myself (pt. 1)

rating: M for Mature (18+)

warnings: public teasing, implied dom/sub dynamic, part 2 to come soon!

summary: ona can't keep her hands to herself. she wants to see how far she can push lucy before she snaps.

based on this request!

word count: 1.7k

AO3 Link

When Mapi and Ingrid had suggested a double date, Lucy and Ona agreed immediately. Seeing the duo outside games and training sessions didn’t come often enough, so they snatched up the first opportunity when their schedules aligned.

“Are you almost ready?” Lucy asked, walking into the bedroom where Ona sat at the vanity mirror, applying light makeup.

“Almost, I’ve just gotta-.“ Ona’s breath caught in her throat when she looked up and saw Lucy’s reflection in the mirror. Lucy had her hair in a low bun, bits of the newly dyed blonde hair sticking out.

Dressed in a sleeveless black t-shirt, Lucy had chosen to wear something that perfectly flaunted Ona’s favourite feature of hers: her arms. Ona’s eyes trailed down to take in the rest of Lucy, the shirt tucked into loose-fitting acid-wash jeans.

“Just gotta what, love?” Lucy was oblivious, busy trying to flatten a near-invisible crease on her shirt. Ona’s eyes followed the contours of Lucy’s biceps, down her toned forearms, and her hands. God. She wondered if Lucy even knew what she was doing. How could she walk in looking like that and not expect Ona to go wild?

“Just need to apply my chapstick.” Ona forced the words out, shaking her head as if it would be enough to clear the thoughts from it. She arose from her chair, turning and walking towards Lucy, Ona ensured to keep extended eye contact with Lucy as she dragged the chapstick against the plump skin of her lower lip.

“Have I ever mentioned how good that shirt looks on you?” Ona took another step towards Lucy and rubbed her hands down Lucy’s muscles, thumbs caressing the contours. Ona’s fingernails scraped the skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake on Lucy’s skin.

“You’re not too bad yourself.” Lucy's eyes skimmed Ona, admiring the low cut on Ona’s tight black dress, which was accentuating her chest. She was interrupted by Ona clearing her throat.

“My eyes are up here!” Ona teased, reaching up to tilt Lucy’s head chin up using her fingertips. She used her thumb to trace a line going up Lucy’s jaw before resting a hand behind her neck.

Ona pulled Lucy into a kiss, earning a hum at the fruity taste of Ona’s chapstick. Ona tried to deepen the kiss, lifting herself onto her tiptoes, only to be denied by Lucy.

“No time for a quickie?” Ona wiggled her eyebrows, partially joking, mostly serious. She leant back in, managing to kiss Lucy’s neck once before Lucy pulled away, not giving in to Ona’s advances.

Lucy checked the time on her watch, raising an eyebrow at Ona’s puppy dog eyes. Ona whined, tilting her head to the side and sticking out her bottom lip to pout.

“We are going to be late,” Lucy warned, pushing back against Ona slightly. “Maybe if you can behave yourself tonight, we can continue this later.”

Mapi 🦁: head inside when you get here. I found a perfect spot.

Lucy dismissed the text before letting Ona know and holding the door open to let her enter first. Mapi’s message was right, as they had gotten a secluded booth near the back of the bar. Lucy and Ona were glad about this, meaning the group could be far enough from the loud music and avoid any prying eyes.

Lucy and Ona spotted the couple and waved to let them know they had arrived before heading to the bar and ordering their drinks. Thankfully, the line for the bar moved quickly, meaning the girls could make their way over to their friends soon.

Ingrid flashed a grin at the approaching couple, now with their drinks in hand. She had light jeans on with a beige cardigan draping off her shoulders. María sat next to her, a plain white t-shirt and corduroy trousers, matching the colour of Ingrid’s cardigan, no doubt purposefully.

Ona greeted the two as she slipped into the booth seat first, scooting over for Lucy to follow her. Both couples took a moment to catch up and were excited to talk about something other than football for once.

Ona laughed at one of Mapi's jokes, hand slapping on Lucy’s knee and resting there. That’s when the idea hit her. She was still feeling a little high-strung, getting denied what her body desired. Why not have a little fun with it tonight?

‘How far can I push Lucy before she snaps?’ gradually became Ona’s favourite game. Her hand, once innocuously resting, had slipped further up Lucy’s thigh, squeezing slightly against the strong muscle under the denim.

Ona let her mind wander as she continued tracing figure 8s through the denim. She imagined pushing Lucy until she snapped, imagined pushing Lucy until she bent Ona over the booth table and-.

She mentally clamped down on that thought, not daring to entertain it further.

Ona’s free hand reached for her drink, taking a sip of the cool liquid to try and level her head. Her hand stroked further inwards, aiming for a more sensitive area of Lucy’s thigh now. Ona dared to peak at Lucy, hoping to see a crack in her façade.

Lucy’s face was an image of neutrality, minus a slight feathering of her jaw muscles. Ona could hear the woman’s thoughts warning her, ‘Don’t push it’. Deep down, that thought only further excited Ona.

The idea of pushing Lucy, knowing she was holding back any reaction, the idea of how Lucy might punish her. Ona had to bite down on her tongue to avoid giving any sign of where her head was currently.

Ona forced her eyes to the couple sitting opposite her, not wanting to seem obvious. She could hear them talking, but her brain couldn’t absorb the words, her head fuzzy and dizzied by her own lust for Lucy.

Lucy remained calm, replying to the conversation (and, frankly, she carried the conversation for Ona since she was in no state to be trying to act normal right now). Ona said a silent prayer that neither Ingrid nor Mapi seemed to have picked up on her sudden silence yet.

By now, Ona’s hand had inched almost to where Lucy’s pussy was throbbing under her underwear. Ona paused for a second before she stroked her thumbnail up the seam of the jeans. The action caused a vibration to travel to Lucy’s centre, her clit twitching under it, before Ona pulled her hand away from Lucy completely.

“I’m just gonna excuse myself. Bathroom.” Ona smiled at the group before heading off. She made a show of it, shimmying past Lucy. Her ass, sculpted by the tight fabric of her dress, swayed in front of Lucy’s face as she left the booth.

Lucy felt her mind go blank, only thinking about the sight of Ona’s body. Lucy turned to look at Ona and was met by a smile and a knowing glint in her eye before she turned to walk away.

“Actually, wait, I’ll join you,” Lucy called after Ona, turning to Mapi and Ingrid. “Nature calls!” Lucy joked to the couple, standing to follow Ona to the other side of the bar.

Lucy heard the bathroom door shut behind them, taking it as her cue to push Ona up against the sinks, a breath escaping from the shorter woman as her body hit the hard granite.

“What are you playing at?” Lucy questioned Ona, her voice stern. Ona was pinned against the basin with her hands pinned to the counter by Lucy. Ona stuttered as she tried to reply.

“What do you mean?” Ona’s acting skills were subpar. The rising heat in her cheeks and a twitch of a smile at the corner of her lips showed that Ona knew she was misbehaving.

“You are practically trying to fuck me in front of our friends.” Lucy was trying hard not to raise her voice, her pent-up frustrations, both emotional and sexual, fighting to take control. Lucy pushed a knee between Ona’s legs, the fabric of her dress rising. Ona bit her lip, her eyelids fluttering shut at the pressure of her hips subconsciously rolling into Lucy.

“If you carry on…“ The sound of the bathroom door opening promptly cut off Lucy. She jumped back quickly, pretending to be busy washing her hands. A small group of drunk ladies laughing and slurring their speech entered. Lucy stared over at Ona, a silent warning.

“This isn’t over,” she said loud enough for Ona to hear but not loud enough for the other women in the room to pick up on.

Both the women left the bathroom without another word to each other, Ona looking like a puppy that just got told off, her tail between her legs.

“Are you alright, Ona?” Ingrid questioned, noting Ona’s frazzled appearance and flushed cheeks. Before Ona could open her mouth to say anything, Lucy decided to answer for her.

“She’s not feeling too well, actually.” Lucy wrapped an arm around Ona, her thumb idly rubbing against the small of her back. “Isn’t that right?” Ona knew this wasn’t a question but an instruction to agree with her. Lucy’s eyes held nothing but kindness, the perfect act for their friends.

Ona nodded slightly, averting her gaze from Lucy. When she looked up at Mapi and Ingrid, she was met with sympathetic smiles and kind eyes.

“That’s a shame,” Mapi started, looking over to her girlfriend and placing a hand over hers on the table.

“Maybe we can take a rain check?” Ingrid continued, looking over to her girlfriend, who nodded in agreement. Ona felt guilt swelling in her chest, having to cut their double date short because she couldn’t control herself.

“Sounds great!” Lucy enthusiastically agreed, pulling Ona in closer to her. “Right, I better get this one home before she gets any worse.” Ona could hear the sharpness in those last words, feeling like a direct attack on her behaviour.

The two couples exchanged their goodbyes, their friends saying they hoped Ona would feel better soon. Ona and Lucy turned to leave, the latter swiping on her phone, ordering an Uber back to their apartment.

“Just wait until we get home…” Lucy’s frustrated tone echoed into Ona’s ear as they made their way to the bar exit.

#my writing #ona batlle #lucy bronze #luna #ona batlle smut #lucy bronze smut #woso smut #woso fanfics #my brain after deciding the title: I MEAN I COULD BUT WHY WOULD I WANT TO #mine #as always ignore any mistakes ive reread this 867 times #fulfilled request

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seresinhangmanjake · 7 months

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Beyond the Hills: Part 4

Jake Seresin x Reader (College AU)

Main Masterlist, Beyond the Hills Masterlist

Summary: Technically, you and Jake Seresin have known each other for twelve years. All throughout your childhood education, you and Jake shared classes, lunch periods, homeroom teachers. It seemed if the opportunity for you to be in the same space arose, the universe made it happen. But you were not friends. Not enemies, either. Not much of anything to one another outside of the occasional class project partners. When high school ended you assumed you wouldn’t be seeing him any time soon, but then you find yourselves at the same college, and once again, forced together. It seems no matter where you go, Jake Seresin is there. But you are not the shy girl you were in your youth. You want to try things now; party, have fun, do things you’ve never done before, and suddenly, for reasons you don’t understand, Jake seems to take issue with your new choices.

Notes/warnings: just cursing, I think. Likely typos. I know people literally just voted for the second part of the Oh, Baby AU to be posted next, but this was almost done and I got a sudden burst of inspiration to finish it.

Words: 1300

---

“So are we going to talk about why you’re being weird or are we ignoring it or…what’s the plan here?”

Jake was trying to drown out the noise—the hundreds of jumbling thoughts in his head, each containing a question that led to the same answer: He liked you. He wanted you; enough to have the prickling sensation rise over his skin that said it might even be more than that. He couldn’t deny how he sought you out, catching himself walking to the campus coffee shop he knew you frequented, or considering attending the senior art exhibit because Lydia had mentioned you’d be there. Maybe it was because he needed you, in some way. He didn’t want to need you, and unlikely was it that you wanted to be needed by a man you barely knew, but he couldn’t stop himself. It was a craving. A yearning for something sweet and gentle and wholly unique, unlike anything else. And that’s exactly what you were. Unlike anything else. Special.

“Not answering me is only adding to the weirdness,” Rooster said, snapping his fingers from across the room, hoping the high-pitched sound might draw his roommate’s attention. “Did you hear me?”

Jake finally raised his forearm from his face where it had been resting to block the light from the sun, and sat up in his bed. His heavy inhale was a relief, as if he hadn’t been breathing quite right and just didn’t realize it until he made the conscious effort.

“I heard you,” Jake said, running a hand through his hair to straighten the locks ruffled by his pillow.

“Oh, so you were just being a dick,” Rooster huffed.

“Well, maybe don’t ask questions you already know the answers to.”

“How was I supposed to know if you wanted to talk about it or not?” Rooster moved to his own bed, plopping down and leaning forward with his elbows resting atop his knees. He clasped his hands and his thumbs began a little war with one another. “I guess I won’t ask if this behavior has anything to do with her, then.”

Jake nodded and snatched his t-shirt off the floor, pulling it over his head. “Would be a waste of a question.”

The shake of Rooster’s head in response irritated Jake immensely, but he knew where the reaction was coming from, and it wasn’t exactly…unfair. “It’s been a week since the bar, man, and you haven’t made a single move,” Rooster said. It was just short of a scolding, forcing Jake to roll his eyes. “Not even a step.”

“I know.”

“Not even an ant-sized step. I mean, snails move faster than you. Snails, Jake.”

“I know,” Jake groaned. “I just—” He matched Rooster’s position but let his face fall into his hands, rubbing them up and down to try to erase the tight knitting of his features. “I think I’m going crazy." His words were muffled into his palms, then he lifted his head to meet his friend’s stare. “No, I know I am. I’m fucking insane, actually. I’m practically addicted to this girl and I don’t even really know her.”

“You keep saying that, but maybe you do.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “What?”

“You’ve always noticed her,” Rooster said. “She’s been in your classes for years. You know some of the things she likes, and what might make her laugh. You know that she’s embarrassed when the rain turns her hair frizzy, but you think it’s cute anyway. You know that…” He paused to remember another of many on the list of reasons. “You know she really likes strawberry-flavored things. And you know—”

"This is making me sound like a creep. How do you even know all of that?”

“You spilled it after a few drinks the other night," Rooster replied, smirking at the memory. “Look, all I’m saying is that you’ve unintentionally gathered a lot of information over the last twelve years. Putting all of that together,” Rooster shrugged, “Of course you like her. Hell, before Lyd wrapped me around her little finger even I was getting ready to like her and all I knew about her was that she’s beautiful. You know much more. So cut yourself some slack. She’s clearly a hard girl not to like.”

Understatement, Jake thought. Severe understatement. Rooster had a point Jake couldn’t deny. He had noticed so much about you—more than perhaps reasonable—and the truth was he had all the tools and knowledge to bring a smile to your face any time he wanted to. So why hadn’t he? Why had he restrained himself, and why did he still feel the itch to continue doing so?

You aren’t good enough for her, his thoughts intruded. That’s why. She deserves someone who won’t—

“Ok, why don’t you just say it out loud?” Rooster said. “You know, release it from that bottled-up, guarded portion of your heart.”

Jake knew the look on his face was suggesting his roommate was nothing short of ridiculous, but Rooster didn’t budge.

“Go on,” he urged.

The blond’s brows dipped in the center, mildly insulted. But that’s what happens when someone pinpoints one of the few things you’d rather not discuss. And it was harder knowing Rooster of all people was so easily able to do the pinpointing. The man’s brain was consistently on partying or Lydia, partying with Lydia, sex with Lydia, sex with Lydia at a party—Lydia, Lydia, Lydia—and still he had enough room in his head to sense Jake’s walls. He wasn’t intimidated by them, either. Despite how sturdy, how thick and long those walls of Jake’s were, Rooster had no issue walking right up to them, rapping on the carefully stacked stone with determined knuckles, and declaring, without any hint of gentle sympathy, that his friend was being an idiot.

Maybe he was being an idiot.

“My heart is not guarded,” Jake defended…weakly.

Rooster's look easily proved how unconvinced he was. But maybe Jake wasn’t truly trying to be convincing. It felt like lying to his father after a night getting high with his best friend back in high school. Useless. Pointless. His father could smell the weed cloud wrapped around his son, and any following words from Jake’s lips fell on deaf ears.

“Fine,” Jake muttered, his heart jackrabbiting against his ribcage. He was thankfully for that cage. It kept the organ from breaking free from his body like it felt it was on the verge of doing. Jake pushed on. He pushed through the thumping in his ears “I…I like her.”

“And all was well.”

“Shut up.”

Rooster clicked his tongue as he shook his head. “So touchy. Let’s hope if you two get together she soothes that grumpiness.”

“I’m not grumpy," Jake lightly snapped. If said by Rooster a minute earlier, Jake would have been harsher, but the weight of his confession was lighter than the denial he’d been holding on to. He suddenly found himself less angry. Less tense. “I’ve been conflicted for weeks and it’s exhausting.”

Jake would’ve said more. The relief of letting it out—however initially reluctant—coaxed him to spill more of his secrets. The tale of his past was ready to tumble off his tongue. But there was a knock at the door.

“It’s unlocked, baby,” Rooster called.

The smile Rooster greeted his girl with whenever she entered a room fell instantly at the sight of her face. The confident woman he knew didn’t worry her lip between her teeth. She didn’t wring her hands. And yet, in that very moment, she was doing just that.

Rooster rushed her way. "Lyd, what's wrong?"

She released that lip; ran her fingers through shiny platinum strands. Her sigh filled the silence in the room, then she said, "We've got a problem, gang."

---

A/N: I hope you liked it :) It’s painfully long overdue, and I apologize to those who had an attachment to the series. I genuinely didn’t think many people wanted it. I’m actually really happy and thankful that you guys encouraged me to continue this. Just a little tidbit: “I’m practically addicted to this girl and I don’t even really know her” was the line this series was built around. I thought it would be fun to mention.

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @novagreen04 @memeorydotcom

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake seresin au #college au #tgm #tgm fic #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin smut

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filthyjoetini · 1 year

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Love is in the Air(BnB)

a/n: My loves. The long awaited part 6 is finally here. This one’s extra special because it’s now 4th June where I am and this means...it’s my birthday! Did I plan it this way? Not initially but the opportunity arose and I thought, why the hell not gift my loves with this monster of an update then? The usual thank you goes out to @barfightzanddiscolightz. When I say I couldn’t do it without her, I mean it. I owe her at least 20 drinks by now...heh. Ok that’s enough! Enjoy

warnings: full on smut this time. angst at the end. that’s all.

wordcount: 7.5k

part 1 - Friday night - part 2 - Saturday - part 3 - Sunday - part 4 - Monday - part 5 - Tuesday - part 7 - Thursday - Epilogue

Wednesday

Smiling to yourself, you took in Joe’s sleeping form which was illuminated by the few rays of late morning sunshine that shone through the small slits of the blinds. His lips were slightly parted and soft snores escaped them. His soft lashes kissed the freckled skin just beneath his eyes. His bare torso was partially covered by the duvet which he had hogged for most of the night and now had in a vice grip, holding it in his fist by his head. One bare leg was sticking out from underneath it, dangling off the bed.

He had his back to you, an invitation to run your fingertips down his spine. He shivered lightly and let out a soft groan. You giggled softly and turned your body more towards his. The movement made you hiss lowly. Oh yes, he indeed had left you breathless last night and sore – oh so sore. You slowly inched closer to him, pressing your cold, naked body against his and your lips to the nape of his neck, blowing raspberries there. Your icy skin on his warm back and your wet lips on his neck jolted him awake with a loud gasp.

“JESUS CHRiiiiist”

“Good morning.”, you giggled loudly as Joe tried to get away from you, scooting closer to the edge of the bed. He quickly pushed the duvet off himself, and you took your chance, snatching back the blanket to cover yourself with it, burying your face into it, inhaling his scent. He swiftly sat up, resting his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.

“Fuck, babe.”, he mumbled into his hands, chest heaving. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

He dropped his hands from his face to between his legs before he bent down to retrieve his abandoned boxer briefs from the floor. He quickly put them on and turned his upper body around to look at you. You were now completely engulfed by the duvet, only your eyes were poking out and they held a mischievous glint in them. A slight smirk played upon Joe’s lips, and he shook his head before fully turning around and crawling over to you.

“Good morning.” He greeted you; smirk still present on his lips. “What are you doing?”

“I was freezing.”

Your voice was muffled by the fabric in front of your mouth. Joe slowly lifted his hand and pulled it away from your face.

“Why were you freezing?”

“Well.”, you started, wiggling to get even more comfortable inside your now warm cocoon. “You hogged the blanket all night and then you even turned around and just left me lying there…naked and afraid.” You pouted up at him and he mimicked you before he lowered his face to yours to give you a soft peck on the lips.

“Awww, darling. I’m sorry.”

“Also. It’s very rude that you withheld the softness of your mattress from me for that long. I barely remembered how it felt after spending four nights on that shitty ass sofa…you still owe me a massage for that! And now you also owe me one for making my legs feel like they’re made of jelly and one more for almost letting me freeze to death.”, you huffed out, pouting even harder.

Your dramatics made Joe laugh out loud directly in your face and you tried to push him away, but you were trapped inside your cushy prison, and he was very much towering over you. When his laugh had somewhat subsided, he leaned down again to capture your lips with his once more.

“Turn around, babe.”, he whispered against your lips, “I’m gonna give you a massage that’ll count as three…”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”, you challenged him, placing a soft kiss to his lips. He snorted and shook his head once more, muttering the word unbelievable before sitting up back on his haunches. You slowly wiggled out from under the duvet and the cold air hit you once more, sending a chill down your spine. You felt your nipples harden and let out a small yelp.

“Also, I need to use the toilet first.”, you explained, wrapping your arms around yourself, trying to stay warm. Joe nodded and handed you his sleep shirt which he had lying around at the foot of his bed. You thanked him with a nod and quickly pulled it over your head, pushed your arms through the sleeves, and stood up. The shirt was rather big on you and its hem stopped mid-thigh, covering the majority of your behind. Looking around the room, you found your discarded lace thong right next to the door. You waddled over to where it lay, not daring to take big steps because of your aching limbs and put it on. You heard Joe giggle softly and turned back to him to give him a mock-glare and disappeared into the hallway.

---

When you got back, Joe had moulded a massage bed out of the duvet and stacked some pillows on top of each other so you could lay your head on them comfortably. He was rummaging through the drawer of his bedside table and pulled out a small bottle of massage oil. Of course, he of all people would have one of those in his bedside table. Joe closed the drawer and started to warm up the bottle of oil in his hands, turning to you with a smile.

“Do you do that often?”, you asked him curiously, taking slow steps towards him.

“Huh?”, he retorted with a furrowed brow.

“Massaging people.”

“Oh...uhm. No. I haven’t done it in... phew...I don’t know how long it’s been, but it must have been years.”, he explained, rolling the bottle between the palms of his hands. “Also, only a few select people have had the pleasure of getting one...so, consider yourself lucky and make yourself comfortable.”, he finished with a wink.

You playfully rolled your eyes at him and climbed onto the bed, positioning yourself on the makeshift massage bed. Before you lay down completely, you took off Joe’s sleep shirt and threw it across the room leaving you dressed only in your thong. Biting his lip and sucking in a sharp breath, Joe admired your sparsely dressed body. He then crawled over the bed and knelt down next to you.

“I’m gonna start now.”, he announced with a hushed voice to which you replied with a soft hum. Joe delicately lifted the sides of your thong and slowly slid it down over the cheeks of your bottom. While the fabric was pulled down, his fingers brushed your skin and sent the same electric feeling through your body as the night before in the back of the cab. It made you squirm a little.

“’m sorry, are my hands too cold?”, he questioned softly.

You shook your head no and urged him to continue. Joe undid the cap of the oil bottle, and you heard him squirt a good amount of it into his hand before swiftly closing the bottle again and putting it somewhere else. He then rubbed the oil between his hands to warm it up further and shortly after you felt his slick hands rub circles into your shoulder blades. You let out a blissful groan which elicited a small chuckle from the man currently hovering over you. When he pressed the heel of one of his palms into a very stubborn knot between your shoulders you almost let out the most obscene moan you could muster.

“Christ babe, your back really is tense.”, he stated the obvious pressing, rubbing and kneading the space expertly until the knot had completely loosened. When you felt the relief, it almost made you cry out in joy.

“I told you, that sofa of yours is evil. My whole body is in knots.”, you explained, your voice partly muffled by the pillow.

Joe only hummed in response and moved his hands down to your lower back, circling his thumbs into the dimples on it, applying more pressure with each finished circular motion. With each knot he massaged out he educed small whimpers, pants, and little prayers of pleasure from your lips, making his skin heat up as well. When he was done with your lower back, he quickly moved down to your bum, grabbing each cheek with one of his hands and squeezing them softly, making you yelp before he lifted his hands off your body. You protested loudly but he quickly put one hand on the nape of your neck and massaged there. You felt him shift a little and suddenly his warm breath was by your ear.

“I’m going to do your legs now.”

Still panting, you gulped when he took his hand from your neck and slid it down the length of your back to the sides of your hips, down to your thighs. Then he hooked his index fingers into the waistband of your thong, which lay just underneath your bum and lifted the fabric delicately, asking you to lift your lower half, which you did immediately. With one swift move, your undergarment was gone.

Unexpectedly you felt a warm liquid being poured down the back of your legs. Joe had retrieved the bottle of oil and was squeezing it directly onto your skin instead of into his hands. With a dull thud he let the bottle drop onto the mattress once more and rubbed the oil into your skin, starting at the calves. His big hands engulfed their width almost completely and he alternated between rubbing them with his whole hand to work in the oil and the pads of his fingers to gradually loosen the tension. He took his sweet time with each square inch of your skin before he eventually moved up to the back of your thighs. There too, he first massaged in the oil, then skilfully loosened all the knots one by one. While he was stroking your skin there, his fingers sometimes moved to the inside of your thighs, dangerously close to your very aroused pussy.

Every time you thought he would finally touch you there he would withdraw his hand making you groan out in frustration. Joe knew exactly what he was doing and had a devilish grin plastered on his face. He had discovered last night that he loved teasing you like this. You would get all riled up which made the actual satisfaction so much better. All the little sounds he had elicited from you did not pass him without a trace. His own arousal was very obvious and currently restrained inside his boxer briefs.

He leaned down to your ear once more and huskily whispered into it.

“Do you want me to touch you there?”

You nodded and whimpered softly as his fingers got close to your labia once more.

“I need words, darling.”

“Yes….please….touch me there.”

He placed a wet kiss just below your ear, sucking the skin there into his mouth while he moved his still oil covered index finger between your wet folds. Your breath hitched in your throat as he moved the finger up and down your lower lips, eventually inserting it, making you gasp even harder. The massage had left your whole body on fire, and it wouldn’t take much to push you over the edge. When he added a second finger, your whole body was trembling. He pumped his thick fingers unbearably slow in and out of you, hoping to get more of the sweet sounds out of you. You did not disappoint, which made him smile against the skin behind your ear. He then kissed down the back of your neck, bit and licked your skin at its nape.

“Can you turn around for be, babe?”, he asked you while his fingers were still pistoning in and out of your pussy. You nodded and turned to your back as best as you could without letting his fingers slip from you. As soon as you were on your back, you could finally see his face. Some of his hair was stuck to his forehead. The light sheen of sweat was keeping it there. His eyes were darker than usual, his want for you evident in them. You let yours wander down his torso to his groin where you saw his dick struggling in its cloth prison. He moved between your legs and bent down to your face again to capture your parted lips hungrily with his, deepening the kiss with his tongue sliding into your mouth. The hand that was not currently busy pleasuring you and curling its fingers up inside you with every second push, slowly moved to your breasts, firmly squeezing them one after another.

“Can’t miss these beauties.”, he whispered against your lips, starting to kiss down the front of your neck, between your collar bones and eventually the valley of your boobs. He licked around the areola of your left nipple before he took it into his mouth, gently sucking and nibbling on it. You moaned loudly when he let it go with a pop and repeated his actions on your other very much neglected nipple.

With your boobs thoroughly tended to and covered in his saliva; he kissed down your stomach to your mound and then pressed a soft kiss to your pussy lips. He removed his now soaked fingers under your very loud protest from you and sucked them into his mouth, moaning at your taste. His moan made you budge your hips upwards, closer to his face. He licked his lips and smirked up at you before he dove nose first into your love box, lapping up your juices hungrily and softly sucking on your lips and very sensitive bundle of nerves. He inserted his fingers once more and the combination of his plump lips on your lower ones and his thick fingers sent you over the moon instantly, shaking you to your core.

“FUUUUCK JOEEEEEE…fuuuhuuck,”, you moaned in a volume you didn’t know you were able to procure. You had tears pooling in the corners of your eyes from your orgasm. Panting even harder than before, his ministrations left you totally overwhelmed.

With one last lick of his tongue and pump of his fingers, Joe removed himself from between your legs and crawled up to your face, kissing you hard. His lips were glistening with your slick, which made your already flushed skin turn a shade darker.

“That was…”, you started, gulping hard and chest heaving, “…it was…fuck.”

You were at a loss for words and Joe grinned at you, wrapping his arms around your still trembling middle, pulling you up with him. He pressed you close to his chest and as he placed a soft kiss to your hair, just above your forehead, you wrapped your arms around him as well.

Straddling him now, you felt his penis poke your lower abdomen and you both looked down at it. When you looked up at Joe’s face he nodded at you, giving you his silent permission to make your move.

“I need words, babe.”

He chuckled at the way you repeated his words back to him and your raised eyebrow.

“What? Consent goes both ways.”

“Yes, it does.”, he agreed smiling at you lovingly. “You may touch me down there, darling.”

Looking him directly in his eyes, you moved your still shaking fingers from his back to his chest and rested them there for a bit before slowly sliding them down his front, over his belly button down his happy trail to the elastic band of his boxer briefs. He gave you a faint smile and a nod, encouraging you to go further and you smiled back at him softly before pulling back the band a bit and pushing your hand inside. You knew he was big, shit, you felt him inside of you last night, but holding his fully erect cock in your hand was kind of intimidating. You timidly started to pump his length inside his boxers but grew bolder when you heard the noises coming from his throat.

“Take them off please.”, you whispered against his lips before placing a heated kiss to them. Joe wiggled a bit underneath you and you took this as a sign to sit up bit so he could push down his underwear all the while you were still tending to his dick. With both of you now fully undressed, you sat down on his thighs again, pumping his length more heatedly, sliding your thumb over his slit, collecting the precum that was leaking from it to give you lubrication. Your action made him throw his head back with a groan and he whispered a low fuck which made you grin hard. You were working him up to the brink of an orgasm when he let his head fall forward again, resting it on your shoulder and biting down hard on it. His bite made you whimper loudly and pump his shaft faster which made him curse out in return.

“Fuck, I need to be inside of you!”

“Ahhh, I need you inside of me!”

You both declared in unison, and you immediately stopped what you were doing and lifted yourself up again. He aligned his throbbing cock with your equally pulsing pussy, and you lowered yourself down on it, taking him inside inch by inch. When you were fully seated on it your mouth was hanging open gasping for breath. You didn’t dare to move at first but eventually started to rock your hips a little, indicating that you now felt comfortable enough for Joe to move as well.

As you were riding him, he pulled you close again, biting, sucking, licking every inch of skin he could reach. You in return pulled him close to your chest, almost smothering him with it. Just as he was about to nibble on your collarbone you felt the newly formed knot of pleasure in your lower abdomen come loose, making your legs shake uncontrollably and you halted your movements. As you were moaning and whimpering, Joe noticed immediately that you were close and started to thrust up harder into you, moving his hand in between you both where he rubbed at your clit to guide your through your orgasm. You were a trembling mess of limbs when he also finally reached his breaking point and released himself inside of you.

“ffffuuuUUUHHHHCK!”, he shouted, way too loud before falling back onto his mattress, taking you with him. His shout must’ve surely woken up the last of your neighbours, but Joe and you couldn’t care less about it. You were lying on top of him, panting hard, mirroring his breathing. You looked down at Joe, whose face was contorted with pleasure and his eyes were closed. He moved one of his arms from around you to his face and just covered it with his forearm. The other arm slowly moved up your back to your head where he placed his hand to it, slowly pushing you down to his pectorals whilst massaging your scalp. You let out a content sigh and closed your eyes as well.

“Fuck, babe. That was…”, Joe started, gulping hard and huffing out a laugh. “It was…it was hot as fuck. I’m fucking spent.”

You chuckled in response, placing a soft kiss between his pecs. When you moved up a little to place your head into the crook of his neck, his now flaccid penis slid out of you, now lying limply between you both. You both didn’t have the energy to get up just yet, so you nuzzled your face further into his neck placing soft kisses to it from time to time, just taking in the after-sex-bliss.

You were about to doze off into a light slumber when Joe removed his hand from the back of your head and moved it down to your hips, joined by his other hand, which was previously covering his face. Your eyes shot open instantly when you felt him pull you up even further, now on the same eye level as him. His eyes held nothing but adoration and all you did was groan lightly which he returned with a low, raspy chuckle.

“No, we’re not falling asleep, darling.”, he whispered softly which you returned with yet another groan and a scrunched-up nose. Joe let out a hearty laugh at your antics, placing a soft kiss to the tip of it.

“But...”, you argued whilst he moved his lips from your nose to your left cheek, pecking it softly., “I’m sleepy...”

“I can see that.”

“Then let me sle-hmpf!”, you started but were silenced by his mouth on yours. At first you tried to push him away since you really just wanted to close your eyes, even just for a couple of minutes, but the soft caresses of his lips to yours and his hands drawing circles on your hips instantly quenched that desire and kindled a different one, one to just be kissed and held.

“I can’t let you fall asleep, not in this state.”, Joe explained with red and swollen lips, caused by the past couple of minutes of exchanging breathtaking kisses. He moved his hands from your hips down under your bum. “You gotta wash up first...”

You sheepishly looked down between your bodies and eventually nodded. Joe placed one last kiss to your lips before he let go of you and sat up. He leaned over to his bedside table and retrieved some wet wipes.

“Your bedside table is like Mary Poppin’s bag.”, you pointed out, now sitting up yourself. Joe snorted and shook his head at your comparison. He then moved closer to you again and pushed you back down gently.

“Open your legs, please.”

“Baby, you already ready to go again? Wow!”, you joked while slowly opening your legs to him. Your comment made him roll his eyes at you and he took a wet wipe out of the pack and gingerly wiped the evidence from the inside of your thighs and your still very tender labia. He was being very gentle, but it still made you hiss slightly at his touch. When he was done wiping you down, he dropped the used and crumpled up wipe next to you and bent down to peck your lips softly.

“Now you’re good.”

You grinned against his lips, a question forming on yours.

“Do you want me to help you clean up?”

“Nah, it’s alright. I can take care of that myself. Also, today was all about me taking care of you. Next time, you’re welcome to return the favour.”, he said with a wink, already wiping his dick with a wet wipe. You groaned at his reasoning, moving one leg up, placing your foot against his torso, pushing lightly. He did not expect you to push him and instantly lost his balance, falling backwards onto his arse.

“Oh no! I’m sorry, baby!”, you apologised, crawling over to Joe’s now laughing form, wipe still in his hand and around his dick. Joe just kept on laughing and spread out on the bed like a starfish. It was infectious and had you in your own fit in seconds.

When you both finally calmed down, you slowly climbed off the bed, declaring that you are now not tired anymore and in dire need of a shower.

Joe, still starfishing the bed, nodded and said he would go have one after you.

Just before you were about to open the bedroom door, Joe’s sleepshirt covering you once more and a change of clothes in your arms, the man in question softly called your name and you turned back to him. He was now lying on his side, still completely naked, facing you.

“Thank you for...everything.”

“Thank you for everything.”, you retorted with a soft smile.

“Also, I’m gonna cook us lunch after we’re done with our showers. Maybe you’ll find something tasty in the fridge?”, he suggested, now slowly sitting up.

“I will check and let you know.”, you replied smiling before silently slipping into the hallway.

---

Freshly showered, you were standing in the kitchen, your upper body half inside the refrigerator, rummaging through it when a figure appeared next to you.

“Sooooo…I guess Joe gave you one of his famous massages.”

It was Wesley, with a smug grin on his face. You leaned back out of the fridge and rolled your eyes at him.

“How do you know?”, you questioned, your own smirk plastered on, one hand on your hip. “Were you one of the select few who received one?”

Wesley chuckled at your question and shook his head before leaning in a little. You scrunched up your nose and tried to push him away, but it was a failed attempt.

“No, those are only reserved for the special ladies in his life.”, he replied, leaning back a little.

“Oh, is that so?”, you asked, one eyebrow raised, arms now crossed in front of your chest. “Then why did you suggest he should give me one?”

Wesley just shrugged and grinned at you which only irritated you further. You huffed at his non answer to which he let out a brief laugh. He then turned to the fridge and grabbed himself a can of coke which he slowly turned around in his hand as if to inspect its ingredients. You grew frustrated with his antics and uncrossed your arms to flick his biceps hard.

“Owwww!”

“Tell me!”

“OK, fine. Christ.”, Wesley frowned at you, rubbing the spot you flicked excessively. “Look, I know when my best mate fancies a girl, alright? He sometimes just needs a little push, and I wouldn’t’ve suggested it if I knew he wouldn’t go through with it at some point…let’s just say, I love playing matchmaker.

You blushed at this revelation, and he placed the can of coke down on the counter next to the fridge before grabbing your shoulders, pulling you into his arms.

“Thank you.”, you whispered. You felt his nod on your forehead followed by his lips, placing a soft kiss to it. He knew exactly what you were thanking him for. Without him, you didn’t think Joe and you would be where you were right now. Speaking of the handsome devil, Joe entered the kitchen midway through your hug with Wesley, also freshly showered and dressed for the day.

“Darling, have you found someth- …am I interrupting something?”, he questioned, coming to a sudden halt, with an unreadable expression on his face.

“No, no.”, Wesley answered, releasing you from his embrace, stepping back a little. “Just loving on my new bestie here.” He picked up his drink again and turned to Joe, giving him a knowing smirk and a pat on his shoulder before eventually making his way out of the kitchen. Before he left, he turned back to you.

“Love, my AirBnB app notified me that tonight will be your last night…we three should go out to give you a proper farewell.”

You only heard the first part of what he said to you. The rest didn’t reach your ears since your mind was already completely somewhere else. Shit, you almost forgot that you had to go back home. Shit. You knew the past couple of days were too good to be true. You didn’t want to go home. You slowly turned towards the two men who were expecting your answer, but you just stared blankly ahead somewhere behind Wesley in the hallway. When your name echoed through the air, you shook your head to get out of your dazed state and turned towards the source of the voice. It was Joe. Shit. Joe. You weren’t ready to say goodbye to him.

Joe’s eyes, which were filled with concern, searched yours and you shook your head once more, turning to Wesley. You plastered on a fake smile, which did not reach your eyes.

“Uh, yeah. That would be grand.”

“Perfect.”, Wesley, who was happy with your answer and luckily not addressing your weird little reaction, sent you a salute. “I’m off to work, afternoon shift aaaaand I’m running bloody late, shit… I’ll see you at around quarter to eight at the usual place?”, his question was directed at Joe who gave him a quick nod, eyes still on you and with one last smack to the doorframe, Wesley was gone.

You were still standing there, all stiff, gaze now on the floor. You heard fabric shuffling and then felt strong arms engulfing you.

“Babe.”

You shook your head, trying to rid your eyes of the tears that were forming in them.

“Babe…baby…come on, look at me.”, he urged you, moving one hand to your jaw and lifting your head up so you had no other option but to look at him. Your glossed over eyes found his big, wet ones. “Listen, I told you we would make it work, alright? I’m in no means ready to let you go tomorrow but I promise you, we will make it work.”

When you didn’t respond, he let out a deep sigh and leaned down to give your lips a soft kiss. “I promise.”, he whispered against them, kissing you once more which you finally returned with one of your own and nodded slightly.

“OK. Come on, let’s make some lunch. I’m starving.”, Joe spoke, taking a step back, letting go of you to turn to the still open fridge. You on the other hand, just kept standing there.

“I’m not that hungry anymore.”, you whispered, making Joe turn around to you quickly.

“What did you say? You need to speak a little louder, darling.”

You cleared your throat and then repeated your previous statement which made him pout a little.

“Ahhh shit, this means I didn’t do a well enough job with the massage and my dick…usually my clients are starved to death after.”, he stated, a shit-eating grin growing on his lips with every word he spoke. Your eyes almost bulged out of their sockets at his words, and you let out a loud snort, making you forget your worries completely.

“You’re such an idiot.”, you laughed, slapping his arm. His grin, now showcasing pride because he took your mind off your impending parting, grew even wider. He took hold of your hand that was still slapping him, and you instantly stilled. One hand still in his, he turned back to the refrigerator before turning back to you again.

“Fridge’s pretty empty…how does spaghetti with tomato sauce sound? Good?”

“Yeah, sounds perfect.”, you replied, trying to wiggle your hand free from his grasp. He immediately let go of it and went on to take out the ingredients from the different cupboards and drawers.

“I wanted to cook something else for you, but I forgot to go shopping.”, he explained as he took out a pot for the spaghetti and filled it with water. “But I will surprise you with a special menu when we get to see each other again.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

---

After cooking and eating lunch, Joe had to do some work. He had a short interview with a magazine lined up over Zoom as well as some audition tapes to record and send off. You took the opportunity to start packing your belongings. Your suitcase was still stored in the living room and now lying fully open in the middle of it, completely empty. You decided to take your sweet time completing this dreading task because you knew that as soon as you finished it, the dam that was currently holding back your emotions would break and you’d end up a sobbing mess.

You packed, un-packed, folded and un-folded your suitcase and clothes countless times and with each time, the lump in your throat grew thicker. You packed it one final time with just the clothes for tonight and tomorrow lying on the sofa, ready to be put on when needed, and your toiletry bag still on the shelf in the bathroom. Sighing, you stood up and exited the living room, walking over to Joe’s where you leaned against the doorframe, watching him.

He must have felt your presence because he slowly turned to you, holding up his hand, index finger in the air, indicating to you to wait a second. He also must have sensed your change of mood because he was frowning at you, holding your gaze with his.

“…yeah, mhmhmm…that’s alright. See you on Saturday, bye.”, Joe concluded his phone call, removing his AirPods from his ears.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m done packing.”, you announced defeated, tears already brimming in your eyes again. Joe tutted softly, placed his headphones onto his desk, stood up and made his way over to you.

“None of that, darling. I promised you we will make this work.”, he said, a hint of irritation in his voice. With a tender embrace, he enveloped you, drawing you into the warmth of his chest. Head now on it, you savoured the rhythmic melody of his heartbeat as your arms instinctively found their way around him, pulling him even closer.

“I know, I just can’t help myself. I’m so sad. What if this doesn’t work out the way we hope it will. Especially the distance thing.”, Sniffling and tears now fully welling up in your eyes, you confided your deepest fears in him. Joe didn’t answer at first, just moving one hand to the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair whilst silent tears flowed down your cheeks. After a couple of moments, he finally spoke with a firm voice.

“I’ll promise you one last time.”, he started, moving both of his hands to your jaw, cupping it firmly. “We’re gonna make it work. I could always come visit you when I’m off work and you’re always, baby and I mean always, welcome here. I don’t even care if it bothers Wes or not. We are going to make this work.”

With tears streaming down your face, you nodded and leaned in to meet his lips in a wet kiss. One of his hands released your jaw to affectionately wipe your tears away as he reciprocated the kiss.

“Darling, please don’t cry. Everything’s going to be fine.”, he comfortingly reassured you as he pulled back, lips lingering on your right cheek, whispering into it all the while your sobs continued to wreck through your body.

Still standing in the doorway to his bedroom, he held you close to him, his voice a gentle whisper as his hands traced along your back and through your hair until your tears subsided. Seeing you break down like this didn’t leave him unfazed and he had to wipe away a few stray tears that cascaded down his own cheeks. Inhaling deeply, he reluctantly let go of you to check his phone. It was now close to half five which still gave you enough time to eat a brief supper and heading out to the pub.

“We should get ready soon.”, he said motioning towards the bathroom, trying to lift the mood, “Gotta make our pretty faces presentable for the public.”

He gave you a small smirk to which you sighed and attempted to muster your most convincing teary-eyed smile in response.

“OK. Can’t let them see us like this.”

“No, we can’t. Can’t let them know we are humans with emotions.”, Joe nodded, now slowly pulling you towards the bathroom, cackling a little when you once again slapped his arm, this time much more half-heartedly than before.

“Would be too scandalous.”, you snorted standing in front of the sink, your snot from crying now running out of your nose. Joe’s face contorted in disgust before he handed you some toilet paper so you could wipe and blow your nose.

“Exactly. Can’t have those in my line of work.”, With a chuckle, he ended the conversation and handed you a washcloth he had dampened under a low stream of water flowing from the sink's faucet.

Simultaneously getting ready in a cramped bathroom turned out harder than you two thought it would be, but you had managed and still had some time left to eat, which you both did on the balcony, overlooking the street. You both observed the events below in wide-eyed fascination.

---

Joe and you found yourselves running late as you had been so distracted by the bustling activities unfolding on the street.

Joe was running in front of you, dragging you along with him, which turned out to be a breakneck task. You had decided to put on your high-heeled sandals, not considering that half of London’s small alleys were still made from cobblestones. You had almost tripped and broken your ankle twice in the past ten minutes you had been running towards the pub making it an arduous journey.

Finally, panting like two weary horses burdened by excessive weight, you arrived 20 minutes late for your cosy farewell bash - if one could even call it that; you honestly weren’t sure. Joe quickly led you inside, nodding at the other patrons who were watching the two of you in your hurried state.

You both made your way as quickly as possible to the back of the pub where they usually hung out, but Wesley was nowhere to be seen. Confused, Joe let go of your hand and turned around to look if he’d missed him somewhere along the way.

“Uhh….Wes?”, he called out when suddenly six people screaming SURPRISE erupted from different booths. The room came alive with a burst of party horns, swirling confetti, and the crackling sound of party poppers. You let out a loud yelp and covered your ears, totally caught off guard by them. Joe was equally startled and quickly grasped onto your shoulders, almost hiding behind you.

When the noise settled a little you took your hands off your ears and looked at the smiling and expectant faces of Rebecca, Dan, Felix, Oliver, Jack and Wesley. Joe let go of your shoulders and was now standing beside you, grinning at his friends. He was so very grateful for them and that they had accepted you into the group in such a short time. He knew this was all Wesley’s doing. That man had a talent of making everyone feel welcome and comfortable around each other and for that he loved his best friend very dearly.

“Jesus, you guys. This really is a surprise.”, you finally said, looking to Wesley. “I thought this was gonna be just the three of us.”

Wes only smirked at you before stepping forward and engulfing you in a hug.

“Did you really think they would let you go back without saying goodbye?... Love, I’m disappointed.”, he retorted with mock-hurt in his voice and one hand over his heart. You rolled your eyes at him and pushed his shoulder gently before leaning into his hug.

“Thank you.”

“Any time, bestie.”

He then stepped back and let the others hug you tightly. Becky was the last to embrace you and told everyone that she would not let you go, so you couldn’t go to the airport and fly back home. You chuckled at her, and she eventually let go of you, nonetheless.

You danced and talked with them for what felt like hours. You limited yourself to one drink because you wanted to stay sober so that the memories of your last night with such wonderful people would remain etched in your mind, as clear as day.

You were laughing widely as Oliver coaxed you into dancing a waltz with him. The music that was playing did not suit such a dance at all, but Oliver couldn’t care less and led you almost expertly across the small dancefloor. Then suddenly both Felix and Jack declared that it was their turn, taking you from Oliver and twirling you around between the two of them.

Joe was sitting in a small booth, watching you dance with mates and sipping his drink with a content look on his face. Mid-twirl his gaze caught your attention and you excused yourself from the trio of now loudly complaining men, making your way over to him.

“Hey there, handsome. You come here often?”, you asked playfully as you took your seat opposite his. Joe snorted at your weak pickup line and took a sip of his drink.

“All the damn time, darling.”, he replied, playing a long with you.

“How come, I’ve never seen you before?”, you followed up, now leaning across the table, face dangerously close to his. Trying not to grin too hard he himself leaned forward a little more, stopping mere millimetres away from your lips.

“I like hiding in the shadows, you know.”, he explained before closing the distance and pecking your lips softly. You hummed against his before pulling back with a smile. Joe finished his drink with one last gulp and suddenly stood up, taking your hand in his and pulling you up as well.

“Come dance with me.”

He led you to the dancefloor and securely wrapped his arm around your waist, swaying you both from side to side. You had your head placed on his chest, listening to him hum the songs that were playing softly under his breath. Everything around you seemed to disappear, and Joe and you only existed in your small bubble, dancing along to the music which was now only a background noise. Within this sanctuary, you felt a sense of security. It was a haven where you yearned to remain for the rest of your days. It was in this bubble where in the future you wanted to invite your newfound friends, shrink them, and put them in your pockets so they would always be close to you. As for now, the bubble was exclusively reserved for Joe and you. You dreaded it being burst anytime soon. You knew it would burst soon. All too soon. Soon as in-

There was a sudden tap on your shoulder and Dan and Rebecca stood there, sad smiles on their faces. You didn’t know how much time had passed but their faces made it clear that it was time. Joe gently let go of you and you fully turned towards them.

“It’s getting late.”, Dan explained. “We have to get up early tomorrow, you know, for work.” You nodded sadly and hugged him goodbye then turning to Becky, who had her arms already spread wide for you.

“Promise me, you’ll come back soon.”, she said into your hair, squishing you hard against her chest. “’Cause if not, we all have to come visit you together with Joe, and believe me, you don’t want that.”

“I promise.”, you giggled sadly at her idle threat before swallowing hard. “I’m gonna miss you guys so much.”

You really didn’t want to cry anymore today but you couldn’t help your tears forming in your eyes again.

“Gonna miss you too.”

Rebecca let go of you, patting your shoulder softly. Then Felix, Oliver, and Jack engulfed you in a group hug and begged you to stay. You explained to them that you couldn’t but that you had promised Becky that you would be back soon. Your answer managed to appease them to a certain extent, and they eventually let go of you.

Five minutes later, Wesley, Joe and you were waiting on the curb for the cab that Wesley had called to pick you up from the pub. You had asked them in a small voice if it would be alright to do so, because you didn’t have the energy to walk to the nearest tube station and then all the way home. Saying goodbye to the others had left you hollow and drained. You let out a deep sigh and Joe, who had one arm around your middle, pulled you in closer to his side, placing a soft kiss to your hair.

You placed your head on Joe’s chest once more, not saying a single word which made Joe wrap both of his arms around you, pulling you in even closer and resting his chin on your head. He began swaying from side to side again, trying to keep you from crying once more. He softly whispered sweet nothings and the occasional peck into your hair and rubbed his hands up and down your back.

After a short while, Wesley placed his hand on your shoulder rubbing it gently, and you slowly turned your head towards him seeing his soft smile and a nod.

“Cab’s here.”, he announced taking his hand off your shoulder again, walking towards it, and climbing into the backseat. Joe gently let go of you and slowly guided you to the car so you could climb in after Wes before he himself sat down and closed the cab’s door behind him. You instantly snuggled up to Joe again, frowning hard and closing your eyes, painfully aware that this would be the last cab ride home to Joe and Wes’ place in a very long time.

---

Taglist:

@ohmeg @daleyeahson @lma1986 @palomahasenteredthechat @mandyjo8719 @aysheashea @eddiebaemunson @xlilithb @freakymunson @sidthedollface2 @i-wont-run-this-time @plk-18 @miserybeans @kylakins88 @deadspellz @thehillzhaveeyez @kayleeelena97 @foreverjosephquinn @punctualhowell @icallhimjoey @ghostinthebackofyourhead @siriuslysmoking @hollster88 @cancankiki @definitionwanderlust @eriancrow @1paire2vans @theonewiththecrackedmind @fromasgardandback

again, the ones that are crossed out cannot be tagged. sorry.

#joseph quinn #Joe Quinn #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn x y/n #Joe Quinn x reader #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn x y/n #joe quinn fanfiction #rpf #love is in the air(bnb)

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praeluxius · 2 years

Text

Picturesque Undressed - Viviz/Gfriend Umji

18+ Umji x Male Reader smut

Masterlist

Word count: 4,133

Five years—not that any of them would know it. Five years since you were hired as a student photographer and freelancer to shoot promotional pictures for Gfriend. You’ve been a fan ever since, and when the opportunity arose to work with both Cosmopolitan and Viviz on a promo shoot, you snatched at the chance. Although you understood that your pictures wouldn’t make the editorial, you had the opportunity to place these three girls in your viewfinder yet again, always amazed by the view you would find. It may only be half of the group you remember, but it’s three more than you had seen in a long time.

The shoot had just ended, much to the relief of all the staff and the final solo shoot model: Umji. You take a seat and scroll through the pictures you took—some of these will be great behind-the-scenes shots. If any of these three girls have changed the most over the past few years—it’s the maknae. Gone is the shy nineteen-year-old who teased her unnies for years, replaced by a confident young woman who deployed an arsenal of sultry gazes throughout the shoot.

You flick to the first shot of Umji’s solo shoot.

Taking an attractive photo of Umji as she posed with pouted lips was maybe the easiest snap of your life. Under the studio lighting, her complexion glowed, every detail of her soft skin highlighted. Her eyes, in particular, seemed to captivate everyone in the room; the white eyeliner enhanced one of her best features. The exposed shoulder and collarbone demanded equal attention as the striped shirt clung to one shoulder but fell completely off the other.

You flick quickly past the one with her exposed back for fear of becoming far too excited. You recall taking the photo; focusing on such a simple task for you became so tricky under the distraction of her bare back and exposed legs. The legs you avoided photographing because, with those images saved, it would become infinitely more difficult to hand the company camera back.

The final picture you took as the shoot came to a close. The main photographer had called an end to the shoot. In an instant, Umji looked towards you, you met her eyes, and she met your lens as you clicked and the shutter snapped. Now you sit here at stare at the result. Through the image, the stunning girl looks back at you as if staring into your soul. You start to feel a little hot under the collar, your cheeks burn, and you fidget in your seat.

The uncomfortable feeling peaks as the top of your peripheral vision is filled with two bare legs stepping toward you until they come to a stop. You look up from the camera, away from Umji’s stare, only to be replaced again by Umji’s stare—except this one is real, and she is smirking at you.

"I look good there, don't I?" Umji asks with bravado. Her confidence stuns you for a moment, but after a shoot like that, she must feel good about herself.

Though her comment didn't need a reply, you struggled to find one for a few flustered seconds until Umji continued, "walk with me for a moment. I'd like to see the rest."

Umji places her delicate fingers on your wrist and guides you to your feet. She lets go and strolls ahead of you, her half-exposed ass swaying as she walks, with the patterned one-piece hugging the tense muscle. If there's one place, in particular, that girl had developed the most—it's her ass and legs. Her workout schedule must have blessed her body with some of the tightest features you had ever seen; her ass is so firm you could bounce a quarter off it.

Under the trance of her body, you blindly follow the young woman down a brightly lit, white corridor until you reach a changing room door, which Umji opens and steps aside to let you in. You walk by without hesitation into the square room with four white walls. Umji closes the door behind the pair of you, followed by the sound of a soft click.

The changing room was decidedly bare with only the essentials: a long desk lining the left side of the room covered with assorted make-up and hair tools; a small table in the centre of the room with drinks, snacks and what you assumed to be Umji's handbag; and in the far right corner is a black leather corner sofa.

Umji breezes past you and reaches the desk, perching herself before turning back to you. "Show me the one you were staring at before I interrupted you.”

You look down at the camera in your right hand, the screen still illuminated with the shot of Umji. You outstretch your arm, presenting the camera to her, which she dutifully accepts. “Wow, I look good; you take good photos. This one is intense. It's like I was staring at you—and maybe I was.”

“I was always told I have an eye for beauty.” It's a cliche comment for a photographer and one you had heard several times, but you bite your tongue, realising the flirtatious subtext of your comments.

She smiles and quickly flicks through the pictures as if looking for something. The gallery won’t move any further. She looks at you and scowls with disappointment.

“All these photos, and you didn’t take a single shot of my body in this outfit?”

“I um—I didn’t want to—”

“What? Am I not hot enough?”

“It’s just that I have to keep it professional.”

“You can take professional full-body shots. I guess you just don’t like my legs, whatever.”

“No, no, you’re so fucking hot I just—” You bite your tongue for the second time in succession before letting your mouth fall open. Your breath hitches, and no words come out. You feel the colour drain from your cheeks and freeze as cold as ice in embarrassment.

“If I’m so fucking hot, why didn’t you take any sexier pictures?” She leans against the desk behind her, stretching out her slender body.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say—”

“So I’m not hot?” Fuck. She has you stuck between a rock and a hard place. Either admit your attraction and risk coming across as a pervert or deny it and insult her. The next ten seconds seemed to last ten minutes. With Umji now leaning against the desk, you could see your own face in the mirror behind her, as white as a sheet and as if you had just seen a ghost.

She lets you marinate in your thoughts for a moment. Clearly enjoying watching the gears turn inside your head as you searched for a professional response.

Then she offers you the cruellest lifeline. It’s not a way out or a respite from your situation; she just pushes you in one direction. “You can tell me. You already said it once.”

You swallow non-existent saliva like razor blades.

“You are hot.”

“Nuh-uh. That’s not what you said.”

“You’re so fucking hot.”

“There we go. Now take a hot picture of me, will you?” Umji had become so much more confident in her body, and taking it in now, you understand why. Not only had she matured, but she had worked hard on toning her body. Her thighs are slightly muscular but still soft enough to melt between your fingers, the thought of which runs through your mind endlessly.

“An actual picture, not a mental one,” she says, making you realise she has been holding the camera for you to take.

“That is a company camera. I can’t risk taking pictures here with this.”

“Here then.” Umji places your camera down on the desk and then turns and bends forward to reach down into her bag of belongings on the table. She fishes out a polaroid camera. “Make it a good one.”

She turns and places the palm of her right hand on the desk. You pull the camera up to your eye and drop to one knee for a better angle. She leans forward, pushing her ass out towards you. Her knees meet, but there is just a tiny gap between her tasty thighs. Her back dips and arches, pushing her ass into the air and flexing its full shape. Umji looks over her bare right shoulder, placing her left index finger into her mouth, just between her teeth, where she bites lightly. She lets her full lips rest against her digit, slightly separated from each other by the obstruction. Again she glares at you with sultry seduction. Perfect.

You push lightly with your finger, eliciting a loud snap from the camera followed by a whirring. Umji turns and removes the photo from the front of the camera.

She holds it in front of her face. “Wow, you’re good. I do look so fucking hot here.” She imitates your voice again.

“Please, you made it easy.”

She turns back to the desk, doing something you can’t quite see. “Take a seat,” Umji says, tilting her head towards the corner sofa against the far wall. You sit down facing her and place the camera on the other side of the couch.

Umji saunters towards you, swaying her body with each step; her full thighs jiggle a little with each step. “Fifteen minutes.” A blunt statement you don’t fully understand and you reply with a puzzled expression.

“We have fifteen minutes until someone comes and knocks on that door,” she clarifies.

“Let’s not waste another second, then.”

“Let’s not.” Umji concurs. She grabs you by the shirt, pushing you to the side, so you’re now laid flat on the sofa. Her hand releases your shirt but remains against your chest. Slowly, she snakes her hand down your torso until she makes contact with your tight trousers.

“You enjoyed taking that photo a little more than the rest. It must be so tight under there. Let’s help you out.”

You reach for your leather belt, excitement takes control, and begin to unbuckle the cold metal until Umji stops you. “Ah ah. I said let me.” She throws you a serious look, halting your movements.

Umji resumes what you began. Unbuckled, unbuttoned and unzipped—she quickly pulls down your trousers and underwear in one motion. Umji stops at your thighs and looks at your freshly exposed, erect cock for a moment, and smiles before continuing her action and pulling your clothes free of your legs.

Suddenly you're exposed to the cool air as your cock stands at full mast poking into the air but not for long as the cover of your trousers is replaced by the warm mouth of Umji. With one hand resting on your stomach and one holding one of your thighs, Umji rests for a moment with your cock filling her mouth.

She plays gracefully with her tongue around your length, swishing it from side to side, brushing over your cock. Umji swirls the tip of her wet muscle around the head of your cock with playful freedom. Your eyes flutter uncontrollably as pleasure shoots around your body from her playful teasing.

"Yes Umji, that's it." You grunt quietly to encourage her.

Umji slides her hand from your stomach down to the base of your cock. She wraps her thumb and forefinger around it and rubs slowly, matching the small movements with her mouth. She slides your length in and out of her wet cavity and covers your entire cock in her saliva.

Umji suddenly sucks hard, making you twitch before sliding her head completely away from your cock with a small pop as her lips leave your body.

"That's good enough," Umji says while smiling to herself and admiring her work. As much as you didn’t want her to stop, you thought better of interrupting her as she moved with purpose, finally discarding the shirt that had hung loosely on her arms.

With both hands on the back of the sofa, Umji lowers her body onto yours, and your slick cock slides between her bare thighs—the whole time, her head is turned towards you, watching as your face contorts in pleasure. The soft flesh of her thighs embraces your cock in a gentle hold, the pressure isn’t intense, but there’s just enough friction on your sensitive tip to send small jolts of pleasure through your body. You effortlessly slip in and out of the small gap between her thighs as she slowly shifts her body on top of you.

“The camera,” Umji says as she raises a hand behind her head. “Take one now.”

You reach out behind you, and as you lay your hand on the camera, you hesitate as Umji sinks again around your cock. You grip the metal frame and tense your whole body as she descends, eliciting a laugh from Umji. The control clearly made her feel good.

“How’s this angle?”

You pull the camera up to one eye, close the other, and then centre the view onto the posing Umji, who leans her upper body away, exposing more of her thigh and ass to you. “Keep still… It’s hard—to take… a picture,” you say between sharp breaths as she rocks her body.

From maybe the most effortless photo of your life with Umji bent over the desk to the most difficult as you try to maintain focus while her petite body rubs your sensitive cock. Her pillowy flesh squeezes your length, making it increasingly difficult to take a photo. Somehow, some way, you find enough focus to quickly take a photo of her before succumbing to the pleasure and dropping the camera back onto the couch.

Umji continually rises and drops her right leg on you, holding the left in place. Each time she goes up, pulling your stiff cock down and trapping the head between her thighs before rubbing back down on your cock. Her movements have caused the fabric of her one-piece suit to ride up between her legs, exposing all of her ass and being worn like a thong. The view here was almost perfect. Everything which attracted you to this young woman is on show, from her athletic legs, her toned stomach and her deceptively full ass all the way up to her stunning face.

There is one image left that you can’t quite formulate in your head, and you need to see it for real: this young woman's expression as she impales herself on your cock.

“How long left? Five minutes?”

“Maybe ten, give or take a couple,” Umji replies.

“Then fuck me. I want you.”

Umji’s mouth opens slightly as she takes in your words, clearly a little surprised by the desperate undertone in your voice.

“Oh, you must want me bad. Really bad.”

The voice in your head calls out and reprimands you. You’re supposed to play it cool. Don’t be so needy; you’ll look desperate. For better or worse, your brain shouted at a brick wall; the mind had conceded to the needs of the cock.

“We don’t have long, and I want to see your pretty face when you cum.”

Umji slides your cock out of her pre-cum-covered thighs and then opens her legs and repositions, so one sits on either side of your body and your stiff cock presses against her abs. “I can show you that. Now lay there like a good toy and let me ride your cock until I cum.” With each passing second, it seems that Umji’s confidence grows, and she is intent on putting on a show for you. One at a time, Umji slides the straps of her one piece over each shoulder, then lifts her hands out of the fabric and pulls the patterned cloth down her torso to expose her chest.

“You’re even hotter than I ever imagined.”

The mounds aren’t large, but they’re perky, enough to cup in your hands. Her hard nipples poke into the palm of your hand as you take hold—the soft flesh moulding to the shape of your grasp. A slight whine of approval escapes her parsed lips, encouraging you to play a little rougher—a tug and a rub eliciting similar, louder responses.

“Do you think about me a lot? I bet the only reason you’re here today is to stare at me and think about me riding your cock. Well, today’s your lucky day.”

With her eyes closed and her head thrown back, Umji lifts her body and suspends her crotch over yours. A hooked finger does the job, pulling the bottom of her one-piece to the side, and it exposes her glistening slit. The soft skin of her folds glimmering right above your equally slick cock.

You take your hand to your cock, with a finger and thumb at the base. You swish it like a wand against her pussy, casting the spell to open her folds to accept you inside. Up and down, you tease, probing inside her folds. Each time you slide down towards the wanton hole, she inhales in anticipation and exhales the air in a soft moan when you push against her swollen clit.

“Stop fucking around and put it in me. We don’t have time to waste.”

Umji re-assumes her control, placing her hand on top of yours and wrestling control of your cock. She pushes it down, placing it against where she wants it the most. She sinks her whole body in a swift motion. Your stiff cock slides into her, pushing out her walls and filling her up.

“Oh fuck, you’re so big!” Umji’s mouth falls open wide, an expression halfway between shock and ecstasy. She slowly releases her body weight onto you, allowing herself to sink completely down and embracing all of your cock inside her. Resting, Umji appears to be acclimatising to the sensations inside her, but you don’t allow her the opportunity to relax. You use your core to buck your hips upwards, catching her by surprise as she unwittingly lets a short moan escape.

“Ya! I’m the one fucking you here. Let me use you.”

Umji places both of her hands on your chest, her soft fingers resting on your shoulders as if pacifying you. With furrowed brows and fierce eyes filled with determination, she sets the pace, slowly riding your length. Her hips roll to a sensual rhythm as if savouring every movement inside her tight cunt. Her tense walls push and pull on your cock with every motion designed to draw pleasure from you.

The bobbing breasts above you come closer to your face as Umji leans forward, tantalisingly close to your mouth but just out of reach as your shoulders remain pinned to the couch. “Oh yes. Yes. Yes! This is amazing.” A breathy tone to her words. Her pace increases as she chases her desire to cover your cock in cum.

After placing a hand on each of her hips, you buck up again into her with a little force and authority. Umji’s hands slip from your body and onto the sofa. Her head falls into the crook of your neck, and her black locks fall over your face, filling your nose with a mixture of lemon shampoo and lilac perfume—an unusual combination, but you wouldn’t change it for anything else right now.

“Fuck me! Go on!” She shouts into your neck, the vibrations of her words radiating through you and tingling your skin. Faster now, you pump up into her pussy that remains suspended above your cock, with your lower body leaving the couch each time you fill her tight hole.

“That’s it, right there! Harder!” You match each thrust with a push down on her slim hips, forcing her to meet your cock with more force. A series of whiny moans flow into your ears as you fuck her into what you assume to be her orgasm. Her whines hit a climax, so you can only think she did too. The tightening pussy around your cock confirms your thoughts.

With all of Umji’s energy committed to the sensations inside her tight cunt, she is powerless to stop you from taking complete control, and you lift yourself from the couch, placing her in your old spot. You take a moment to admire the hot mess beneath you. Strands of her hair have stuck to the side of her face and forehead. Her cheeks are flush with colour. Her chest and stomach heave as they draw oxygen in through her mouth, which seems frozen in a permanent smile.

You look down at the thin strip of fabric pushed to the side of the slick pussy between her spread legs. Accidents can happen. You take the material in each hand and pull it apart at the seam with a loud tear. “What was that? What are you—?” You interrupt her by sliding into her with a hard push, planting yourself inside her again. A loud gasp and the words: “Ah! Fuck!”. And with that, you’re back to fucking her with such ravenous energy that everything else which follows from her mouth is saliva-muffled syllables that don’t resemble any words of the languages you know.

With her mind orgasmed into mush, everything Umji did from here on out was contradicting. She screamed out as if wanting the whole building to hear, but she sunk her teeth into her lip to stifle the moans. Her hands flail loosely against your chest, bracing against your body weight and your aggressive pounding, but her tight folds hold onto your cock as if treasuring its existence, begging to be fucked harder. Her legs instinctively tighten around your waist, denying you the space to move your hips, yet every time you pull back, the heels of her foot on your lower back pull you inside.

“I’m so close,” you manage to say through sharp, strained breaths. Umji turns her head to the side as if trying to bury it into the couch and then brings up one arm to cover her face.

“Cum—.” You only hear the first word and lean down closer, putting your head right by hers. A little louder, she repeats, “Cum in me, please.”

You relax your mind and let your orgasm take over. The moment you had dreamed of for years, finally, you get to fill your favourite maknae with your cum. Pure euphoria takes over as you pump her full of cum. Shot after shot from the end of your sensitive cock into her grateful hole. The once confident Umji can only lie on her back, with her glowing face buried into her arm, taking every drop of your seed.

You dismount her and sit back on the edge of the couch, still admiring the limp girl in front of you, cum dripping from between her spread legs, a film of sweat on her glowing skin and a satisfied smile on her face. Just to the side of her and a little up, on the other side of the sofa, lies the camera you most recently used, still with the polaroid hanging from the front. It reminds you of the confident young woman who rode your cock just minutes ago and had now become a twitching, whining mess beneath you.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Three sharp rasping knocks on the door spring you and Umji to life. Umji rises from her momentary passive state with an alerted look on her face and her hair a mess that she desperately tries to tame.

“I need one more minute! Don’t come in!”

“What’s taking so long? Do you need a han—”

“NO!” Umji coughs, realising how aggressively she shouted. “Actually, could you bring me some more water?”

“No problem, one minute.”

While Umji had her long-range through-the-door conversation, you had taken the opportunity to retrieve and wear your previously discarded clothes.

Umji reaches out and grabs your hand, using you as leverage to rise to her feet. “Thank you,” she says before pointing you towards the door.

“Quickly, out before they come back. Don’t forget your camera.”

“I won’t, oh, and, Umji?”

“Yeah?”

“That was amazing.”

“I know.” She replies with a confident smile. You turn and head towards the door; a hand appears on your shoulder as you place your hand on the doorknob. “And don’t forget these. They should be useful.”

Umji places the two polaroid photos you took of her into the palm of your hand. You hold them tightly and step out into the corridor, looking for a bathroom where you can ensure you don’t look like you’ve just nailed an idol in a changing room.

You glance down at the two photos in your hand and notice the black writing scrawled along the bottom. On closer inspection, you make out the digits of a phone number.

A/N2: Thanks for reading, enjoyed writing this one and hope you all enjoy reading.

#male reader #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #idol x male reader #reader insert #smut #girl group #viviz #gfriend #umji #Kim Ye-won #kim yewon #m reader

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charmercharm3r · 2 years

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Matching Wallpapers

Hyung Line, Maknae Line

300 follower special! Thanks for being here!

CHAN

“Why do you always have just all black lock screens? Don’t you get bored?” You innocently asked as you stroller hand in hand through the park with Chan. He didn’t think much of his choice in lock screens before.

“Hm, just like it to match my clothes, I guess,” he laughed, bringing the backside of your hand to his lips to kiss. As he did, you dragged him towards a picnic table, sitting yourselves down and pulling your phone out.

You unlocked your hands, “here, stay like this.” Holding onto his hand and playing with his ring and index fingers, you shaped them to resemble half of a heart.

“What’re you doing?” He asked, going along with your requests.

“Giving you more options.” Chan held his hand steady as you pecked his cheek in return for his compliance. “It’ll be cute! If not, we can take more.” Holding up your hand, you completed the other half of the heart and picked up your phone. Chan was smiling, eyes turning into crescents as you opened the camera app and snapped picture after picture. He planted small kisses on your cheek, catching his lips attached to you in the center of the heart. “See! Cute.”

MINHO

It was just supposed to be a quick coffee run with your boyfriend, but the entire house decided to tag along since the weather was looking pretty nice. You and Minho led the way, you arm wrapped around his as you struggled to keep up with his face paced stride.

“Can you slow down a bit? I’m getting winded,” you breathed out, skipping to match him.

“No, but you can grow longer legs,” he retorted, the teasing smile he bore to you covered by his hood to your friends behind.

“That was mean, hyung!” Jisung called out, simultaneously taking his phone out to snap a picture of the sky.

“Oh no! It’s a crime to tease my girlfriend. Better arrest me.” Minho nudged your shoulder and winked.

Unlocking your arm from his, you held up finger guns at him and said, “put ‘em up.” Minho copied you, squinting one eye and pretending to aim. Unbeknownst to you two, Jisung caught the whole thing on camera and sent it to you later.

CHANGBIN

He always caught you off guard, phone always in hand in case a photo opportunity arose. It usually did, especially when you were on a sugar high and had way too much energy. You were in one of his hoodies, practically drowning in it as you played with the drawstrings. “And then, I got to the final boss and died a couple times. But the game glitched and I somehow got past him.”

“You can thank Jisung for spilling coffee on the console and making it glitch,” Changbin laughed, standing and pulling his hoodie tighter around his head. You shivered a little, catching his attention. Walking over to you, he pulled the hood over your head as well and tied the drawstrings tightly. “We really need to turn down the air conditioning,” you said, not thinking much of it.

At your request, Changbin opened the door to his bedroom and yelled, “Hyunjinnie, turn down the AC! We’re freezing to death.” The younger yelled back something about liking the cold, making your boyfriend stalk out of the bedroom to find the thermostat. After a few minutes of sitting on his bed, he came back looking flustered. “I don’t know how to use it,” he said softly. You couldn’t help but laugh at him, how confidently he planned to walk out there.

“That’s okay,” you pulled him to sit next to you and grabbed the string of his hoodie. “We can just bundle up.” You tied the string from his with yours, connecting you. He laughed, leaning back to pull the circle around his face tighter. Of course, he had his phone out to record the whole thing.

HYUNJIN

“I saw something on TikTok!” was his least favorite sentence that has ever come out of your mouth. “I wanna try it.”

How could he say no?

So Hyunjin sat on his bed, watching you struggle to stand on his desk chair you’d kicked him out of to reach the fan on the ceiling. You found the blue tape on his desk and snatched it, ripping it open with your teeth. Pressing time lapse record on your phone, you taped your phone to the underside of one of the fan blades and crawled back into bed with him.

“Now what?”

“Now we nap.” Reluctantly, he laid next to you on your stomachs, one arm under his head and the other stroking your hair. It was easy to fall asleep like this, basking in each others’ presence.

You’d woken up a few hours later, finding Hyunjin still on his stomach. As you flipped over, he stirred. He smacked his lips out of slumber, “what time is it?”

“Dunno.” Your eyes locked on your phone still taped to the fan blade. “Oh! The video!”

“The what?”

You stumbled across the bed and reached up, Hyunjin sitting up and holding your hips steady as you undid the tape. Falling back into his lap, you opened the video with his head on your shoulder. The time lapse was sped up, showing mostly just you tossing and turning into various positions around Hyunjin while he stayed stagnant on his stomach. It made the two of you laugh until the video came to an end and showed the opening moments again. Hyunjin took the phone from you, screenshotting the moment he ran his fingers through your hair right before you fell asleep. You peered up at him, confused. “It looks kinda poetic… or whatever.”

All picture credits to their original posters and artists!

A/N: 300 follower special! I don’t think I’m very good at writing headcannons or fluff for that matter and this was sitting in my drafts so heeeeere ya go! Maknae line is up now :3

Enjoy!

-momo < 3

#stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #stray kids headcanons #skz fanfic #skz fluff #skz headcanons #skz scenarios

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yourfavoritebookclub · 8 months

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WINGLEADER: A Xaden Riorson POV Fanfiction

CHAPTER 15

The plan in place is a simple one: The crew protects Sorrengail.

And I stay far, far away from her for as long as possible.

….

The morning after Threshing is always a political nightmare. But none have felt more nightmarish than this one as I sit up at the dias and examine the teetering social balance shift in the gathering hall.

For the first time since Sgaeyl and I bonded, I’ve found myself thrown into the uncertainty of my own survival.

I’m not quite so arrogant to believe I’m above death at Basgiath, but I’ll be damned to Malek if Sgaeyl and I die at the hands of one of these inane riders and their weak-minded dragons because Sorrengail can’t defend herself.

At the tables below, Violet is getting a masterclass in the new hierarchy. She’s clutching her tray, an uncomfortable grimace lining her mouth as a group of first-years clear an entire table as she approaches, Ridoc and Rhiannon following closely behind.

I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling at the fear that lingers in everyone’s eyes as she walks by.

They should fear her.

A room full of wide eyes are on her as she moves to sit.

Imogen, who's been inconspicuously following Violet since she walked into the gathering hall, strides over to the table, swings her leg over the bench, and sits comfortably with the group of first-years like she wasn’t hell-bent on killing Violet as soon as the opportunity arose.

The rest of the crew has made their way over to the table, and after one last cursory glance around the hall, I snatch an apple off the table and sit back in my chair, legs stretched out in front of me.

Lounging and bored, the mask of Fen Riorson’s son, of a powerful, arrogant Wingleader without a care in the world.

I pull out my dagger and peel the apple, my gaze still focused on the hall.

“I love the day after Threshing. It’s always such a clusterfuck,” Garrick snorts, his eyes fixating on Jack Barlowe. The “future wingleader” has been isolated and abandoned in the wake of the new pecking order. I look over and give a short, stilted laugh.

Garrick and I fall into a comfortable silence as we continue watching for signs of danger. Garrick’s eyes are wholly focused on the gathering hall, sweeping across the room like a royal sentinel.

His gaze abruptly stops on something, and his forehead bunches in distress at whatever has caught his attention before quickly looking away, his expression blank.

Worry. Fear.

Garrick has become my second, a born commander; loyal, and honest, and more than I could ever hope to deserve, but it comes at a price. One that I make him pay over and over again as he shoulders the weight of the 107 lives that aren’t his to bear. The pressure growing stronger the deeper we delve into the coming war.

Guilt runs through me, abruptly interrupted by a prickle that shoots up my spine. An electric current has been merged with every nerve ending in my body

My gaze lifts and I find myself looking into Violet’s bright hazel eyes.

There’s a question in her gaze. One I’d been waiting for all day.

I look to Imogen and back to her in answer. A silent order from her Wingleader.

Do as she says Violence.

Her eyes harden, and she turns away from me.

My head doesn’t stop buzzing until I walk out of the gathering hall thirty minutes later

….

The whole courtyard is awash with sunshine. Light and shadow dance together as the wind and sun create a shimmering glow through the branches of trees and in between pillars. Groups of people meander down the paths, stretched out on blankets, laughing or kissing or sleeping on the warm earth.

I lean back against the stone wall of the academic building, watching everyone enjoy the much needed respite. From the mouth of the tunnel, Violet’s figure comes into focus

There’s rage in every step she takes. She’s stomping, actually stomping her feet, and my mouth twitches at the sight.

As Violet nears, I raise my eyebrow in question. She thrusts her middle finger in answer before blowing past me.

Violet doesn’t make it more than a few steps past me when a scream rips through the air, shattering the untroubled afternoon, and a hush falls over the courtyard. A first-year comes into view, a tornado of panicked movement. “Make it stop! For Gods sake, make it stop!” His cries are piercing as he clutches his head in his hands.

An inntinnsic.

I hone in on Jeremiah, assessing the threat. I move, shadows curling at my heels, to put myself directly in front of Violet. That edge of possessive protection envelopes me, my mind and body lying in wait with unrelenting focus.

“Jeremiah!” A voice calls out from the crowd.

Jeremiah turns on his heel, pointing at Barry, a third-year section leader. “You! You think I’ve lost it!”

His eyes go misty, the tone taking on the thoughts of the person he’s hearing. “How does he know? He shouldn’t know!”

“And you!” He spins again, pointing at a second-year in First Wing. “What the hell is wrong with him? Why is he screaming?”

Jeremiah turns again, facing Dain. “Is Violet going to hate me forever? Why can’t she see I just want to keep her alive? How is he..? He’s reading my thoughts!”

I’m too focused to find any humor in Dain’s idiotic thoughts.

Violet takes a step up to my side. “Oh Gods,” she whispers in horror as she realizes what’s happening.

Garrick shoves his way forward, pushing Ridoc to the side as he takes up position on Violet's left.

My eyes don’t leave Jermiah as his screams turn into desperate pleas. “Make it stop! Can’t any of you see? The thoughts won’t stop!”

“Do something,” Violet begs next to me, and her voice is so full of anguish that my shadows respond before my mind does, an undetectable tendril moving towards Jeremiah. It feels like my shadows bend to her will, and there’s a burning sensation in my stomach at the thought.

My gaze remains fixed on Jeremiah. “Start mentally reciting whatever bookish shit you’ve learned,” I order.

Violet looks up in irritated confusion, “I’m sorry?”

Of course, Violence could never just take an order without question. “If you value your secrets, clear your thoughts. Now,” I snap.

“And you!” Jeremiah whirls on Garrick.

Fuck.

“Damn it all to hell. He’ll know about–”

I push the tendril forwards, merging it with Jeremiah's own shadow. The dark bands of swirling black wind up his body, cutting off his words.

Professor Carr pushes through the crowd

“He’s an inntinnsic!” someone shouts.

That’s all it takes for Carr to walk up to Jeremiah and, in one fluid movement, snap the man’s neck.

I release the shadows and they skitter away, finding pockets of darkness. Jeremiah’s own shadow gone as he lies on the grass, head lolling at an unnatural angle.

I suck in a breath, steadying myself, and glance at Garrick. His face is wan, his mouth pressed into a tight line.

We both leave without a word.

#fanfiction #fourth wing #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #xadenviolet #violet and xaden #fourth wing fanfic #sgaeyl #tairn and sgaeyl #liam mairi #andarnanurran #andarna #tairneanach #dain aetos #tairn

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millionsvash · 11 months

Text

First Encounter

A self indulgent work of my OC's first meeting with Millions Knives. No romance or anything here. 💕[Repost from another blog]

Characters: Millions Knives & OC Pairing: N/A Word Count: ~1k CW: Mentions of dehydration, death and starvation. Summary: On Gunsmoke, most people won't find a second chance at survival. Human's do not belong in this dirty desert. Yet another chance is given to a woman looking for a better life. Is survival worth making deals with the devil? Taglist (ask to be added/removed): @chubbyghostt, @luvbuggieee, @l4nk4d43, @duerme07, @fruitsoxs, @vashfantasy, @sortatiredartist, @beanibon Reblogs > Likes 💕

A lone drop of water dripped onto her tongue. It was enough to temporarily relieve the ache her dry mouth left her with. That was the last of it. No amount of harsh shaking of the canteen brought more.

With a huff, she tossed it to the side, frustrated with the lack of water. She had originally packed more than enough to last her for the trip, but she hadn't counted on being separated from the caravan.

Life was survival of the fittest. This planet wasn’t meant for us, and every human knew that. There was no room to be afraid of the unknown, as the unknown might be your only key to survival. When the opportunity to double her income arose, she took it. Sure, she made enough money to survive, but she wanted to do more than survive.

She wanted to live.

Despite all the hesitation, she joined the caravan heading to Augusta. It had been hard to say goodbye to her family, yet the exhilaration of a second chance allowed her to move forward. It had all been going well. Despite the long track, they were well on their way. Yet no one had anticipated being attacked by a rogue group of bandits.

Fearing the repercussions of staying, she quickly fled the scene as the bandits tore apart the caravan with ease. Not once had she glanced back to see if anyone had made it out alive. Not that she would be of help. She was in no condition to fight. Small and scrawny, most people could easily pick her up and toss her like a toy. Running was always the best solution.

Now she was tired. All she had done was run for hours, draining her canteen of its supply. Her back slumped against a rock, her body sliding down to rest on the sandy floor of this planet’s endless desert. The sight had become nothing short of an eyesore. A bubble of anxiety boiled in her stomach. She hadn’t a clue where the nearest town was, nor had she seen another person during her escape.

Perhaps if she collected herself for a moment, she could continue on. It would be better to die trying than to not try at all.

"You look…parched."

The sudden voice had her pulling her blade from its holster, aiming it towards the source of the voice. A sullen man towered over her. All she could see was one blue eye and a few locks of light blonde hair. The rest was covered by a rather simple-looking, brown, and tattered cloak. Arm extended towards her, a canteen within the clutch of his hands. Despite the kind gesture, that eye had a piercing gaze, one that could easily strike fear in one’s heart. But in this world of survival of the fittest, who was she to turn away from someone who was offering her help? Desperate hands snatched the canteen, teeth popping off the lid in a rapid motion. She downed the contents so quickly that a small portion spilled down the front of her.

A satisfied sigh leaves her as she finally lowers the drink, feeling much of her energy restored. She glanced up to thank the stranger, but he raised his hand to her, motioning for her to silence herself.

"It was not out of kindness that I chose to aid you." His words were sharp like a razor blade, leaving the woman stunned. "Your time hasn’t come yet. It would be a shame for you to perish before you could reach your full potential."

It took her a moment to gather her thoughts. Her fingers anxiously drummed on her thigh as questions began to pop up in her mind. "I'm…sorry, who are you?"

"You know him, don't you?" He spoke, glossing over her question entirely.

"Him? Who are you talking–"

"The Humanoid Typhoon. Vash. You have done work for him, yes? Do not lie to me, human. I will know if you're being dishonest." The words left the man's mouth like venom. What did he want with Vash?

She momentarily stumbled over her words, before her brain caught up with her mouth. "I only know him on a professional level. I've repaired his weapon a few times and–"

Two strong hands ripped her from her sitting position, slamming her against the rock with force. Those eyes never changed; they were so cold and calculated.

"How? How could a human repair such an intricate piece of technology? You aren't worthy to hold it, let alone fix it." He hissed, eyes narrowing.

"I- It's not much different from a normal gun! I only made minimal repairs to its basic parts! That's all." She wasn't entirely sure why she was defending her actions. What was so wrong with repairing a pistol?

His eyes scanned her for signs of lying. He looked dismayed that he couldn't find a reason to rip her apart right there. A loud grunt left her when she felt a pistol being slammed against her stomach. Its condition was horrible. It suffered severe cosmetic damage, and it was clear it was on its last leg.

"Fix it."

"What…? I'm not going to fix a gun for free–"

"Fix it, or I'll leave you here to suffer a painful death from starvation."

Their eyes met. They shared a moment of silence. When his eyes remained unchanging, she knew he was serious. This was yet another chance to keep going, and refusing was an idiot's choice.

"...Fine, but I do not have my tools with me."

He released his grip on the woman, allowing her to stand on her own two feet. He quickly spun on his heels, turning away and walking as he spoke. "No matter. Come with me. I shall supply you with all necessary equipment."

The way he spoke so casually made her skin crawl, but her feet moved ahead, trailing behind him.

"Are you at least going to tell me your name?" She huffs in distaste.

A prickly chuckle escapes him as he glances over his shoulder to address her.

"You'll learn in due time, Seven."

"How do you know my name…?"

#trigun #trigun fanfic #trigun stampede #tri98 #millions knives #Trigun OC #trigun writing #Knives Millions #Seven #Trigun x OC #Trigun & OC #Knives & OC

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biggestqiblifan · 7 months

Text

Copy and Paste of my RA location challenge fic

Rangers Apprentice Challenges!

1/Location- Seacliff

Will looked out at the lush greens of Seacliff. From his stable Tug neighed, alerting him that someone was approaching.

Getting up from his seat by the window, Will left his mandola resting on the chair and walked to the door.

Something felt different today, but he couldn’t place it.

Something was definitely strange because when he opened the door Will could only stare at the person standing there.

It was Halt.

A grin broke out, “Halt! I haven’t seen you in ages! What are you doing here?” Will went to hug him, glad to see his former mentor.

Then, pulling back, he immediately got worried, as a ranger, he was taught to always expect the worst when something different or out of the ordinary happened.

“Did something happen and Redmont, or Castle Araluen?”

Halt looked at his old apprentice, correction, his son’s worried face and smiled, his ranger instincts were sharp as ever, no matter what he was feeling at Halt’s visit, “no, everything’s fine, but can’t I just come and see you every now and then? Speaking of which, are you going to just leave me out here? Or are you going to let me in?”

Will, ever the apprentice, hurriedly apologized and let Halt in.

When Halt stepped into the threshold, he was met with a pleasant surprise.

Around the room in vases of various sizes and colours, were wildflowers.

Will saw Halt looking and said, “old habits die hard, right? It makes me feel more at home.”

Halt shouldn’t have been surprised, but he still kind of was when he noticed that the mix of flowers was the very same that Halt had had around the cabin at Redmont when Will had been an apprentice.

Though he would never admit it, Halt in that moment felt quite emotional.

Pulling his mask of indifference up, Halt hooked up his Rangers cloak on the wall and went to where Will was making coffee for the two of them.

Truth be told, Halt had been feeling kind of lonely. Pauline was there of course, but it wasn’t the same. It never was. Halt felt that things had become so different the day Will left for Seacliff.

So when the opportunity to see him arose, Halt snatched it up, eager to see his son.

Though he’d never let Will know that.

Or admit it aloud.

He had a reputation to keep after all.

______________________________________________________________Just a little fluff. I feel like Halt would've missed Will.

Bro, I literally wrote this in 15 minutes. I never saw this post. Help.

______________________________________________________________ So, I was asked to make this its own separate post. But I never got around to it. :/ SO HERE IT IS 6 DAYS LATER!

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hiseternalmayfly · 11 months

Text

First Encounter

For more of my writing, check out my writing blog: @millionsvash

Characters: Millions Knives & OC Pairing: N/A Word Count: ~1k CW: Mentions of dehydration, death and starvation. Summary: On Gunsmoke, most people won't find a second chance at survival. Human's do not belong in this dirty desert. Yet another chance is given to a woman looking for a better life. Is survival worth making deals with the devil? Taglist (ask to be added/removed): @millionmix, @ascend-to-the-clouds, @fruitsoxs, @stardust-electric Ok to RB 💕 Questions/Comments accepted.

She wanted to live.

Perhaps if she collected herself for a moment, she could continue on. It would be better to die trying than to not try at all.

"You look…parched."

It took her a moment to gather her thoughts. Her fingers anxiously drummed on her thigh as questions began to pop up in her mind. "I'm…sorry, who are you?"

"You know him, don't you?" He spoke, glossing over her question entirely.

"Him? Who are you talking–"

"The Humanoid Typhoon. Vash. You have done work for him, yes? Do not lie to me, human. I will know if you're being dishonest." The words left the man's mouth like venom. What did he want with Vash?

She momentarily stumbled over her words, before her brain caught up with her mouth. "I only know him on a professional level. I've repaired his weapon a few times and–"

Two strong hands ripped her from her sitting position, slamming her against the rock with force. Those eyes never changed; they were so cold and calculated.

"How? How could a human repair such an intricate piece of technology? You aren't worthy to hold it, let alone fix it." He hissed, eyes narrowing.

"Fix it."

"What…? I'm not going to fix a gun for free–"

"Fix it, or I'll leave you here to suffer a painful death from starvation."

Their eyes met. They shared a moment of silence. When his eyes remained unchanging, she knew he was serious. This was yet another chance to keep going, and refusing was an idiot's choice.

"...Fine, but I do not have my tools with me."

The way he spoke so casually made her skin crawl, but her feet moved ahead, trailing behind him.

"Are you at least going to tell me your name?" She huffs in distaste.

A prickly chuckle escapes him as he glances over his shoulder to address her.

"You'll learn in due time, Seven."

"How do you know my name…?"

#trigun #trigun x oc #self ship #self ship writing #trigun self insert #🔪#ok to rb #trigun fanfic #trigun fanfiction #seven

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sixfoottwo0119 · 2 years

Text

Writing Beth Mead’s autobiography: ‘I dreamed about her every night for three weeks. By Katie Whyatt

I wonder if Beth Mead would be alarmed to learn that I dreamt about her every night for three weeks solid. I had been warned that would happen. One of the first things I did when I found out I would be ghostwriting her memoir Lioness: My Journey To Glory was to call the handful of colleagues I knew who had worked on sporting autobiographies. Mike Calvin, co-author for Joey Barton and the Welsh rugby union player Gareth Thomas, had told me I would end up dreaming about — maybe even as — Beth Mead. I never experienced the latter, but the former? Several times each night.

The anxiety behind all this was understandable. The need to meet the Christmas market meant we had just three weeks to come up with in excess of 80,000 words. That’s close to 4,000 words a day on top of my research, fact-checking, visits to Beth’s family and conversations with her friends and former coaches. Beth had just returned from a training camp in Germany with Arsenal and our writing schedule overlapped with two England matches, one of which was abroad, as well as games for Arsenal. As the Euros’ top scorer and player of the tournament, Beth also had scores of media commitments with everyone from McDonald’s to Battersea Dogs and Cats Home. The deadline could barely have been tougher.

And what if Beth didn’t have anything to say? What if we didn’t click? What if neither of us could find the words for a life that included England’s first major trophy since 1966, Arsenal’s first league title for seven years and, more significantly, the 27 years of off-field moments that shaped one of the country’s most defining sporting icons of the past decade?

When the opportunity to work with Beth arose, I did not hesitate for an instant. I would later learn that she, her mum June and Beth’s agent Mags Byrne had met in London with countless publishers — each had prepared a presentation on why they wanted to be the ones to distribute Beth’s book — and Beth had insisted that I was the ghostwriter she wanted. It had reassured June that a journalist Beth knew and trusted would be taking the reins, even if it was my first full-length book. Beth had told one member of the publishing team that the book was “like her baby”. I, too, wanted the final draft to be one that we could both be proud of. I really, really cared.

Thus, the dreams began. The most vivid — and disconcerting — one came first. England were playing in a World Cup and I was staying in a leaky tent in snow-covered woodland, trying to snatch moments with Beth as animals circled behind the trees. Beth and the Football Association kept cancelling our meetings, then Beth could manage only 15 minutes, didn’t say anything of note when the time came and the old-school Dictaphone I was using didn’t work. The tent flooded, the books I’d been using for research vanished and the conversations with Beth’s family and friends revealed an extensive history as a child actor that I’d completely forgotten to ask Beth about.

Happily, those were irrational worries. There was no career as a child actor — a short-lived one as a ballerina, granted — and no snow or World Cup to work around. More significantly, Beth knew she had to approach this project with candour and jump all in if it was to be worthwhile.

In that first video meeting — me in my front room, Beth in her hotel room at St George’s Park — Beth opened up about the impact of being left out of the Team GB squad and her frustrations with the then-England manager Hege Riise. The second part of the conversation was more uplifting. This was Beth’s first England camp since the Euros win and she had opened the door of her hotel room to find piles of gifts and congratulations messages, which she held up to the camera to show me. She talked of a team meeting earlier that week in which the England manager Sarina Wiegman had asked the players to recount the strangest things that had happened to them since the final on July 31. We were looking back, but there was a freshness and an immediacy to many of those conversations, a sense that we were documenting Beth’s post-Euros life in real time.

It helped that Beth was enormously self-aware — of her feelings, her strengths and her flaws — and through our conversations, I was able to begin to see the world as she does. There were moments I was struck by the similarities between us, such as when Beth and her parents spoke of the crippling homesickness Beth experienced on England camps as a teenager. That reached its nadir when Beth moved from Sunderland to Arsenal in 2017. Their words chimed with me because of my own experiences of being away at university. Beth’s memories of the key moments of Euro 2022 are startlingly vivid and she took me behind her eyes on the pitch. She handled the conversations around her mum’s illness — detailed also in The Athletic Women’s Football Podcast — with courage and strength.

Instinctively, Beth understood that crucial storytelling technique of “show, don’t tell”: don’t tell me that Sarina Wiegman is the best manager you have ever played under or that Lucy Bronze pushed you to reach the next level, but how and why. Her anecdotes from throughout the tournament bring us into that summer with a new intimacy.

We managed 20-something hours of conversations, Beth based everywhere from hotel rooms in England and abroad to the home she shares with Vivianne Miedema, who once caused havoc resetting the WiFi router. I visited Beth’s family at their home in Hinderwell — they are the kind of parents who have kept everything, including Beth’s first football boots, bought from a car boot sale for 50p — and we saw her old primary school, ballet school, teenage bedroom and favourite sports field. Her dad Richard knows all there is to know about his daughter’s football career and was invaluable in piecing timelines together.

You quickly learn that the kind of quote that makes for a detailed article or interview does not necessarily make for a detailed passage of a book. Take, for example, Beth’s relationship with her Arsenal team-mate Miedema. They began dating in the days after Beth’s England beat Miedema’s Netherlands 5-1 in a pre-World Cup friendly. They made it official in Manchester, where the Netherlands squad had stayed during their time in England. Those are nice details, but not enough to build up into a story with mood and atmosphere. Where, specifically, did Beth ask her? What did they say to each other? What were their thoughts? Who instigated the first kiss? How did they feel? Once I’d written most of the book, Beth and I combed through each chapter, adding in new details.

The memories of Beth’s former coaches, including Phil Neville, supplemented Beth’s and made for the most complete story we could tell. Ian Wright wrote the foreword himself — my heart soared when his Word document dropped into my inbox and I saw the care he’d put into it — and Jermain Defoe, Beth’s friend from their shared days at Sunderland, needed little convincing to come on board for the afterword.

Miedema, who has her own series of children’s books, read some of the earlier drafts to see if I had captured Beth’s voice. Viv’s feedback was that one section, which jumped from topic to topic, read more like the interview it had been than a chapter Beth had written. Finding Beth’s writing voice was one of the most crucial aspects of the project. The temptation, in the face of such a demanding deadline, could have been to revert to my own voice to save time, but I was not about to take shortcuts.

What that meant was long days of writing — clocking off at midnight to wake up again at 4am — subsisting almost entirely on the Greggs menu. There were moments I panicked I would never get the book finished. At one point, I needed to hit 8,000 words a day and all I could see was the 30,000-odd words I still needed to write. I couldn’t see the next step forward: I still needed to write up her time at Arsenal, and all those Euros chapters, and re-do the one on Wiegman. It was Calvin who told me to “eat the elephant one bite at a time”, and Stuart James (my The Athletic colleague who worked on Jamie Vardy’s autobiography) helped me to bring some order to the tens of thousands of words I had on the Euros on a day when I’d barely written anything.

Then it was time for Beth to read through the final draft. She would read it at home or on planes to Champions League games. Her parents would read copies and send over corrections or clarifications. Days before our first deadline, Beth sustained a concussion in Arsenal’s Champions League match with Ajax, meaning she could not look at screens or concentrate for long periods of time. She showed real persistence to finish reading the book and I was relieved when, with Beth satisfied, I could press send on draft one and flop into bed.

We submitted the redraft a few weeks later and Lioness: My Journey to Glory will be available in hardback on November 10. To say I am nervous for the world to read it is an understatement. I’m almost as anxious, in fact, as the moment I emerged from my snow-soaked tent to learn that dreamworld Beth Mead would only deign to give me 15 minutes of her time. Almost, but not quite.

#beth mead #meado #meadema #lionesses #england wnt #england #engwnt #arsenal ladies #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #arsenal #awfc #woso #woso couples #woso soccer #viv miedema #vivianne miedema #miedema

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notinmyvocab · 3 months

Text

wip whenever!

tagged by @yourlocaldisneyvillain! Here's a small excerpt of a Jane Murdstone fic I've been dabbling in!

I tag @neednottoneed and @jon-withnoh!

When her brother’s first wife passed, Jane Murdstone considered their separation inevitable. He had the business to tend to to keep him occupied, but where did that leave her? She couldn’t simple spend her days at the house, twiddling her thumbs.

So when an opportunity to be employed as a companion arose, she was quick to snatch it up, much to the chagrin of the young woman she would be minding.

Felicity Bennet lay in the field just beyond her house, the flowers hiding her from sight. She knew she ought to get up and go inside; that she was only delaying the inevitable.

“What do you think she’s like?” Letty asked one of the flowers.

Letty wasn’t sure why her Uncle Algernon had hired a companion for her after all of these years. She knew that she was growing older (an “old maid” the servants murmured about her), and that it had been so long since she’d known the companionship of another woman. Her mother and father had died when she was so small, and her aunt perished shortly afterwards, leaving her uncle in charge of her wellbeing.

And life had been lovely, but lacking she supposed.

“Do you think she’ll be kind?” Letty asked another flower. “Or do you suppose she’ll be strict? Make me do needlework and such? I hate needlework.”

The flowers did not reply to her, of course. She never expected them to. But in her head, she imagined little voices answering:

She will most definitely make you do needlework!

Give her a chance; she’s meant to be your friend, after all.

Letty rose from the ground and dusted off the bits of dirt that clung to her pale green skirt. She liked green; liked how it made the red undertones in her hair stand out more.

She returned to the house and was greeted by the sound of her uncle speaking and an unknown voice replying tersely. Miss Murdstone, Letty assumed.

Upon entering the drawing room, she laid eyes upon the woman who was meant to be her companion.

A cold, metallic lady with a stern countenance; she looked as if she had never known a smile. Was this the woman meant to be her companion? Oh dear.

#david copperfield #gwendoline christie #jane murdstone

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seresinhangmanjake · 1 year

Text

Beyond the Hills: Part 3

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female!reader (College AU)

Notes/Warnings: 18+, just to be safe. Minors DNI. underage drinking (depending on your country, but I’m in the US). I’d bet on typos, kind of my thing, as I learn after I’ve posted. I don’t have a beta reader, sooo…just me, myself, and I, and sometimes that does not cut it for editing purposes. Smut-ish.

Words: 2591

Masterlist / Main Masterlist

-----

He'd decided the night after the first meeting that he wanted to get to know you. The need took root in his chest and he couldn’t shake it. But was he making progress? He didn't know. The second meeting you were paired with Ellen and he with some new addition named Maria. Rooster hadn't shown. Didn't need to now that he'd gotten his foot in the door with your friend. Jake didn't care. He cared about the fact that you clearly were fine with being someone else's partner that Tuesday when he certainly wasn't feeling the same. But if there was a silver lining—he got to watch you laugh and smile, he got to see your eyes shine, and he didn't have to worry about what you'd think because you weren't paying him an ounce of attention. Silver lining to the core. He'd prefer the attention.

The third week was a little better. He'd given extra consideration to Pride and Prejudice, staying up late to finish the book and form his opinions. He didn't so much enjoy the story, but he did enjoy the idea of appearing smart in front of you. So when the TA told them to pair off, he practically snatched you up and did his best to prove he had a decent head on his shoulders. Maybe he got you to believe it, too, at least by the time the meeting was over.

Progress. Right? Right?

He sighed as he opened his room's door, hoping he was right. The thought was consuming him, so much so that he didn't hear the mix of moans and groans and the squeaks of an ancient mattress.

"Fuck, baby."

Those were the words that drew Jake back to the present.

He grimaced. "Oh, what the actual fuck."

Lydia yelped on Rooster's lap and whipped her head Jake's way, letting out an "Oh my god" as his roommate pulled her chest flush against his to shield some of her bare body.

"Hey, man," Rooster chuckled, grabbing the blanket from behind him and wrapping it around them both. "We were just—"

"I think I can guess," Jake snapped as he gestured his hand at the scene before him. "How about a text next time? Or a note slapped on the door?"

"That's fair."

"Thank you," Jake huffed. He ran a hand through his hair. A handful of beats passed as they all looked anywhere but at each other. "And how are you, Lydia?" It seemed polite to ask, albeit with a little irritation in his tone.

"Good, thanks." She smiled, all awkwardness fading once the shock of his presence wore off. Of course she was as confident as his roommate. Entirely unbothered. She shifted slightly on Rooster’s lap and the man groaned in response, biting into her neck. "Oh hey, by the way, Y/N is coming with us to the bar tonight if you want to go. It's the one on Lake that doesn't ask ages."

Jake's eyes narrowed into a glare. His arms crossed over his chest. "You told her?"

Rooster shrugged. "It was a bonding moment. Right, baby?" He said as he brushed some of the wild platinum hair behind Lydia's ear.

She wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, hummed in agreement, and leaned in to give him a quick kiss. Something in Jake ached at the sight—the tenderness. Rooster had known Lydia for weeks and he already had more with her than Jake did with a girl he'd known for years.

He didn't like you. Those thoughts just crossed his mind every once in a while, completely out of his control. But he'd find a way to bury them because he did want to be your friend, at the very least. Fighting that was out the window.

Jake looked back at the two sitting atop the bed, still intertwined, still holding each other, still giving one another little kisses as if he wasn't there. "Goddamn you move fast," he said.

With reluctance, his roommate pulled back slightly from the woman in his arms. "Yea, and we'd like to move a little faster, so can we maybe talk some more about this when I’m, uh, not hard and buried deep in—"

"Stop."

"Unless you want to watch?"

Jake was already shaking his head before he said, "Absolutely not."

Rooster winked. "We'll be quick."

—--

You couldn't decide if you were comfortable or not, cramped in the tight space, shuffling through a sea of bodies just to get from one end of the bar to the other. You were leaning more towards uncomfortable until you finally saw Lydia waving at you from the entrance, her hand clasped in Bradley's and dragging him along. You took a breath and a sip of your drink but it almost sputtered at your lips when you saw Jake following behind the two.

Shit. What the hell was wrong with your friend? Your first one in forever and she'd already betrayed you. You couldn't fully relax if he was here, and while you hadn't told Lydia a damn thing about the confusing thoughts in your head about him, you had a suspicion she was catching on.

You took another drink, a long one, emptying the rest of your glass.

"Hi, hon," she said, taking the seat opposite you in the booth and dragging her—boyfriend? Sex partner? you didn't know what they were—down beside her.

It left you with no choice but to make room for the blond, who plopped down in the space you had occupied. He was close. So close you couldn't tell if the warmth of your body was from the alcohol or his own heat enveloping you. Either way, it wasn't…unpleasant.

"Hi," you finally remembered to say.

—--

Your voice was unsteady on that word as much as his heartbeat was inside his body. Both were clear and unmistakable, yet unstable. Irregular. If he spoke, his words would’ve sounded the same, and he wondered if your heartbeat was currently as wild as his. Maybe you were a perfect match. What a dangerous thought.

Ok, maybe he liked you. Just a bit.

Fuck.

"So," Lydia began, and Jake suddenly decided he had never liked the girl better. Her drawn-out syllable was a crack in the walls of silence that encased the four of you. A sweet smile split her face. "Have you guys seen anyone else from home walking around?"

Your head shook in his peripherals and Jake remained silent, watching as Lydia glanced nervously at Rooster. He gave her a nod, urging her to continue. It didn't fool Jake in the slightest. They were trying to get him to talk to you in some way that wasn't about books, but their conversation starters were lousy and you weren't biting.

"Well, I saw Cooper Michaels today," she said.

—--

Jake stiffened beside you—spine suddenly rigid while his neck muscles strained from his clenching jaw. His thumbnail started to scrape up and down the side of his curled-in middle finger and his other hand began balling up one of the napkins the bar used as a sorry excuse for coasters.

"Really?" You asked. You knew Cooper, in a way. Nearly everyone from your high school did, regardless of year. But it was simply a matter of recognizing his name and being able to put it to his face if the situation called for it. Nothing more.

"Yea, he transferred from a different school already. Said it wasn't a good fit." Lydia paused, clearly waiting for something more from either you or Jake, but she wasn’t going to get it; not from you because you didn’t care much about anyone from high school, and not from Jake for, well, some reason. Not until Lydia said "I invited him tonight” did Jake finally look up at her again.

His brow was drawn tight and his next word he practically spat at your friend. "Why?"

"Dude,” Bradley snapped, but Jake’s attitude didn’t phase Lydia; likely because of her four brothers and their natural moodiness—something she claimed Bradley was already terrified at the thought of.

"Because he just got here and he doesn't know anyone else,” Lydia said, giving back a minute degree of sass that was just enough to spread an ashamed look across Jake’s face. "Wasn't he your friend?"

Jake mumbled something under his breath, then, "Not really."

"Oh. Well, he said he was glad he was going to get to see you tonight."

His mouth was sealed shut, face devoid of emotion. He looked…blank. Not all there. And then he was gone, out of the booth and disappearing into the crowd.

—--

He wanted to shatter his own reflection—just to relieve some of the tension in his body, to expel some energy, maybe feel something other than irritation at his own bad luck, even if that feeling was sharp pain from glass shards buried into the skin of his knuckles.

He couldn’t catch a damn break. Wrapping his head around you, picking at his brain with a needle to try and figure out why he felt what he felt, was enough to occupy him. Enough to disrupt his sleep, as the bathroom mirror reminded him. He didn’t need more. He didn’t need the return of an intentionally neglected memory.

Cooper fucking Michaels.

Maybe he’d never see him again after the night was over. The school was big enough. But could he really wake up tomorrow and pretend one half of a destroyed friendship wasn’t within a mile radius at all times? He doubted the other half would. Cooper hated him, and that wasn’t going away any time soon.

Jake twisted the knob on the sink and gathered some of the cool water in his palm to run over his face. He needed to get himself together; to walk back out there, sit down beside you, and remain calm. He might not even show, he told himself as he dried his face. He could have had something better to do.

He shoved the door open and stepped into the liquor-scented air, making it all of five paces before your face filled his vision. You stared up at him, and he down at you. Then your mouth opened and Jake waited patiently for the words you were going to gift him.

“Are–Are you ok?” you shouted over the music booming through the speakers that were set up in nearly every corner of the room. “Lydia and Bradley asked me to come chec—”

A body shoved yours forward, directly into his. A harsh collision, but Jake welcomed it, savored it. You huddled a little closer to him as the rest of the moving group of people passed, and his hands instinctively went to wrap around your upper arms.

Tingles, zaps, shocks. Whatever you wanted to call them, Jake got them just by brushing his fingers over some bare skin—your bare skin. And he finally knew what those meant. His thumbs began to slowly stroke back and forth along your biceps but he couldn't say if you noticed. Your attention was still on the migrating group.

Soft. So fucking soft. And warm. And right in front of him.

He whispered your name before he could stop himself, and as if you'd heard him, you turned your head, your eyes widening when they connected with his. His chest rose and fell, pressing against yours with each inhale as he gathered the realization of his sudden desire.

He wanted you. He wanted this mouth on yours. He wanted his hands dipping into your clothes. He wanted more of your skin.

Jake blinked hard to break his stare and shook his head. "I, um—"

"This your girl, Seresin?"

Pure ice shot through his body, solidifying the blood in his veins and stopping his heart mid-thump.

He'd know that voice from a mile away; could pick out its specific notes and tone in the sea of mindless chattering. Never would he forget the voice of the man who cursed his name and told him in about ten different ways to fuck off and go to hell. Not even in his nightmares did the memory fade, despite his best effort.

An ocean-blue gaze landed on your face as Jake dropped his hands back to his sides, and it took everything in him not to block that look with his body. It was too suggestive, too bold, but that was signature for the man he used to call his friend. Flirting was in his nature—was once in Jake’s nature, too; deeply embedded in the wiring of his brain. That is, until he fucked up under the influence of that flirty nature mixed with an abundance of alcohol.

"I'm Cooper," he said, his lips thinning into a smirk. He winked and took a sip from the beer bottle in his hand.

"I know. We went to the same high school." You replied without skipping a beat.

Jake’s brow furrowed at your words and the pang in his chest that followed them. How many times in your life had you reminded people of who you were? To the idiots who could somehow find you so unimportant as to forget your face. He couldn’t blur the image of your face if he tried, and he had tried, relentlessly, for years. That determination had only increased when he saw you walk into his class, but you returned with a vengeance; the center of his dreams.

"You sure?” Copper asked. “I'd think I would've remembered a girl like you."

You smiled a tad awkwardly, your head falling forward, eyes landing at your shoes. He wanted to hold you. Wrap his arms back around you. Protect you. Save you from the discomfort that you never should’ve had to go through. He’d failed you countless times before, without you even knowing it. He could have done those things in school. He’d certainly felt the pull, and yet he didn’t. He kept away as best he could. Now, the instinct was thick and wild and it was a sickening struggle to restrain his limbs from reaching out. But he did. The possible repercussions of acting in this moment would tear him apart.

"I'm sure," you replied, looking back up. You briefly met Cooper’s eyes, but shifted them to Jake as you said, "I'm going to head back."

Best fucking thing he’d heard all night. Get away from Cooper ran through his head. Good girl. Even if it meant also walking away from Jake, he needed you to go.

Jake nodded, watching you turn and weave back through body after body until he lost sight of you.

"You never answered my question." All flirtiness gone. A tenseness turning that tone to stone.

"She's no one,” Jake said, his gaze still locked in the direction you had gone, though you were far from his area of vision. “Just in my class."

Cooper hummed. "Just in your class, huh?" His wide shoulder rammed into Jake’s as he passed him to make his way to the booth where you sat with Rooster and his girlfriend. Cooper glanced over that shoulder, his strawberry blond hair—the hair that had won him the attention of numerous girls for years—shifting in the act, and said "Somehow I doubt that."

------

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