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a-soft-hornytiny · 2 years ago

Text

Lecture.

Summary: Your roommate Mingi decides to tease you and you take your revenge.

Word count: 2.8k+

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Mingi x female!reader

Warnings: blow job, hand job, teasing, cum, cum swallowing, oral, dirty talk, bit of voyeurism ig (Let me know if I missed something) be careful while reading.

Notes: this has been chilling in my ideas for a looooong time. I think one of my moots made me write this down, sadly don’t remember who. And hello~ im kinda back?

Taglist: after the cut (let me know if you wanna be added)

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Unfortunately you had started studying right when covid hit and now you were stuck in this university dorm with your hot but annoying roommate Mingi 24/7. You shouldn’t really be complaining, you knew that. He took care of his stuff, did his chores and cleaned after himself. Yes he was a bit loud sometimes when he was recording some of his rap tracks in his room but that was not why you were annoyed.

You were annoyed because you didn’t know if he knew what he was doing when he walked out of the bathroom. Just a towel around his waist. Little water drops running down his chest.

And he decided to always shower right when you had an online lecture.

You couldn’t escape it either since the living room table was the only place in the dorm where the internet was good enough to survive a whole hour and a half lecture. And the bathroom door led to the living room, which led to his room.

Of course he didn’t do anything wrong in particular but how were you supposed to concentrate on “The basics of marine anatomy” when you had “The basics of human anatomy” walking right in front of you.

But you couldn’t say anything until you figured out if he was doing it on purpose or if his extremely innocent image was real. But you weren’t sure how.

Your first attempt was lying about when your lectures were. You told him they were earlier than usual and waited for him to come out of his room, but he didn’t. He went to shower at the same time as usual, which meant it still collided with your schedule. You couldn’t actually skip a lecture just to prove that your roommate wanted to make you horny.

And just as you were nearly convinced that he just had a weird daily schedule of showering at exactly 9:15am, your schedule changed and your lecture was delayed from 9am to 11am. And suddenly he started going to the bathroom at 11:15am.

There was no way that was a coincidence.

And with that little theory you decided to jump into the cold water and the next time he came out of the bathroom, hot as always, you bluntly stared him down.

“Like what you see?” He raised one eyebrow while walking into the kitchen, not even sparing you a glance. But you could swear that you saw him smirk.

You didn’t answer. You let your eyes wander from his short pink hair, which he was sloppily drying off with a towel, to his defined shoulders over his long torso and his slightly visible abs.

“I think you should get back to your lecture or your professor will wonder what makes you drool.” He said while picking up an apple from the counter and walking over to his room. Before he closed his door he gave you a quick wink. And that was all the proof you needed. He was doing it on purpose.

And you were gonna get back at him.

Shortly after your first lesson ended you started creating your masterplan. Fight fire with fire they say.

Not only did he know about your schedule but you also knew about his. So right before his evening lecture you decided to take your best underwear and run to the bathroom. You waited a few minutes until you heard him settle down at the living room table before you started your shower.

oh he will regret this you thought while stepping out of the shower and putting on a very revealing bra and fitting panties. You dried yourself off just enough to not make a mess and took a step towards the door. While grabbing the handle you realized how nervous you were. But you wanted him to feel the consequences of his actions and opened the door.

Mingi had just finished a sentence when the bathroom door opened. He thought nothing of it at first but when he saw skin in the corner of his eye he couldn’t help but look up. And there you were.

You tried not to look at him directly while walking to the kitchen sink to get a glass of water but you could feel him staring. The feeling of being scanned from top to bottom gave you goosebumps. Was that how he felt when you stared at him?

Just as you finished your glass of water, you turned around. You had expected him to be subtle. To glance at you from time to time. But you were wrong. So wrong. He had turned towards you on his chair, his legs were spread and his eyes were completely fixated on you.

“Like what you see?” You imitated him while walking to the living room. “I think you should get back to your lecture before your prof-“

“My camera is off and I’m muted.” He interrupted you with a huge smile on his face. But it wasn’t a happy smile, it was a dirty one.

You felt shivers run down your spine. Fuck. It felt like he was a predator and you were his prey. Suddenly you could feel every single centimeter of your exposed skin. And it was burning. His hands were resting on the inside of his thighs. You couldn’t do anything against it when your eyes decided to lock on his crotch. An all too familiar tickling feeling appeared in your stomach as you imagined what may be lying underneath his pants. But he noticed.

“Well you must be down bad for me if you put so much effort in just to get my attention.” You answered while leaning on the table right across from him, giving him a good view of your cleavage. He gulped. Success.

“You could’ve told me instead Mingi, honey. Now we’ve wasted so much precious time.” You grinned at him before turning around and slowly, really slowly walking towards your room. You could feel his eyes on your curves as they moved from side to side.

But before you even realized it, you heard the sound of a chair and felt arms wrap around your waist. You inhaled sharply as he pressed his body against yours. You couldn’t see him but he rested his head on your shoulder and whispered against your neck.

“Oh Y/n, please stay with me a little longer… My lecture is getting boring.” He exhaled against your ear and hugged you even closer. You could feel his desire for you… and you could feel his.. oh my god.

You didn’t even realize that you had held your breath until he let go of you and walked back to the living room table. He was giving you a choice. You could either go to your room, get dressed and forget what happened or you could turn around, possibly risking your perfectly platonic relationship and see what happens next. And both sides had their perks. On one hand you were still burning in embarrassment and wanted to hide in your room for the next week or so. But on the other hand you could feel the little puddle in your panties and the excitement in your bones.

You decided to turn around.

He didn’t say anything while you walked towards him, only giving you a small smile. But it seemed genuine. He seemed genuinely relieved that you decided to turn around. You wanted to sit on his lap but he stopped you.

“Wait a bit, I have to present some of my assignments results soon and I have to turn my camera on for that.” He scratched the back of his head, sorry on one side and upset on the other. He pointed to the chair next to him instead.

It was good that it was midsummer, otherwise you would’ve been cold. But this way it was fine. You sat down next to him, still feeling his eyes on you.

“Mister Song, please present your results now.” You heard the voice of his professor through his laptop. Mingi then unmuted and turned his camera on. While he started talking you tried to take in every detail of his flawless face. He had really sharp features which were a big contrast to his soft image. Your eyes scanned his body as he seemed to be uncomfortable with something. And then your eyes landed on his crotch again.

There was not much left to imagination anymore. You could clearly see the outline of his hard dick in his pants. And he was squirming, obviously bothered by the tightness of his pants. A quick picture rushed through your mind. No, you can’t do that. Or maybe you could? You felt your cheeks heat up as the image got clear in your head. Fuck it. You had nothing to lose.

Without much hesitation you slipped off your chair and kneeled down under the table. Right in front of him. You could see his eyes widen as your hands fiddled with his belt. He started stuttering and his ears turned red.

“And that's when I found a study proclaiming th-that-“ he cleared his throat and sat up straight. You couldn’t help but chuckle slightly as you finally managed to open his pants and pull out the massive tent in his underwear. Mingi cleared his throat again before he continued talking. There was already a wet patch at the top of his dick showing how aroused he actually was and you couldn’t help but touch it softly.

He sharply inhaled, interrupting himself mid sentence. “Is everything alright Mister Song?” His professor asked, making him blush profusely. “Yes sir, I’m good” he answered, his voice still shaking. The vibrations of his deep voice sent shivers down your spine as he continued to elaborate on his studies.

You loved the power you had in this moment. His whole body reacted to everything you did, even if it was just a nervous rush of his eyes. Time to make it worse.

You grabbed his underwear and slowly pulled it down until his cock sprung free. You watched it move as your mouth filled with saliva. Fuck he was huge. The tip of his dick was slightly wet and it stood tall. You wanted to suck him off so bad. And as you were kneeling in front of him you realized that you wanted to do this for a long time.

But as he did for you, you wanted to give him a choice. When he had a short break in talking you looked at him with big question marks in your eyes, your mouth hovering over his dick by just an inch. His eyes were big and a bit puffy as he looked down but he didn’t answer. All that he did was softly taking the back of your head in his right hand and pushing you closer.

That was a yes.

Without any hesitation you opened your mouth widely, allowing him to guide his dick into your mouth. Then he let go.

He tasted amazing. You closed your mouth around his tip and let your tongue run over it a few times. Goosebumps formed on his whole body but you decided not to move. Until he started talking again.

Right when he opened his mouth to start another sentence you wrapped one hand around the shaft of his dick and let your head slide down. You could take about half of him without having to deepthoat, the other half was in your hand. He let out a quiet but pathetic moan before collecting himself and starting anew.

You looked up at him with a mischievous light in your eyes as you started to move your head up and down in a steady rhythm. You hum slightly, the vibration intensifying his pleasure. His breath was heavy but he managed to stay still and keep talking. You moved your hand with your mouth to feel his whole length.

In the corner of your eyes you could see that his thighs were slightly shaking as you stopped and gently licked his tip again. You felt how much he held himself back. He wanted to buckle up his hips, he wanted to moan your name and grab your head to push you deeper. But that had to wait.

“To conclude, my research successfully proved the given statement.” His voice was getting lower and lower and his eyes darkened as his professor thanked him and called on the next in line. You never had someone shut his laptop so fast. You stopped.

“But Mingi, your lecture still goes on for half an hour..” you wanted to protest but he had already pushed the table back to get a better sight of you.

“Who fucking cares.” He said before grabbing your head and pushing you closer. You immediately opened your mouth, willing to take him as deep as he wanted. You felt his dick enter your mouth and touch the back of your throat. You took a deep breath through your nose before you pushed your head down further, taking him completely.

Mingi let out a deep growly moan and looked at you in disbelief. “One one ever took me completely..” he groaned before throwing his head back. “Fuck.”

You felt high. The adrenaline rushed through your veins as you felt his pre-cum leak down your throat. You were good at this. You knew that. His hand was buried in your hair but he didn’t put any pressure on it, he let you do your thing. And you did your thing.

After giving yourself a few seconds to adjust, you started to move your tongue around his base while slowly picking up speed. His moans were angelic. He clearly wasn’t afraid of being loud and it was obvious that he didn’t care what people think. The walls were thin.

“God Y/n why did you never tell me how good you are at this?” He asked, completely out of breath. You couldn’t answer, still having his pulsating cock inside of your mouth. But he didn’t need an answer. All he needed was your wet mouth around his dick.

“This is the exact outcome I had hoped for.” He chuckled, taking a deep breath after. “Fuck I’m already close.” He whispered as his grip in your hands got stronger. A feeling of superiority overcame you as you felt his dick twitch. Then you slid back, continuing your movements with your hands but giving him a dirty smirk.

“If I had known you wanted me to do this, I would’ve done it way earlier..” you grinned, making him moan. “Such a big dick but not brave enough to make a proper move on me.” You were teasing him. You wanted him to feel what you felt. Even though you knew there may be consequences for that.

He let out a small whine. “I’ll return the favor I swear but please don’t let me wait much longer.”

You chuckled and let some salvia drop on his tip before taking him again. You could taste the salt on your tongue. A clear indicator that he wouldn’t last much longer.

“Cum for me handsome..” you whispered under your breath before picking up speed again. His moans got louder, more frequent as his hips began to shake. His right hand was still caught up in your hair but his left hand was grabbing the chair. And he was squeezing the wood so hard that if you didn’t know any better you would think it was about to burst.

“Please Y/n, let me fill you up..” he groaned, getting closer to his high with every little movement of your tongue. _With pleasure_ you thought carefully sucking on his tip.

He started shaking uncontrollably, his head thrown back. “Fuck fuck fuck!” He moaned as his cum started filling your mouth. It tasted amazing and you gladly gulped down every drop of it, still moving slowly to help him ride out his orgasm. His whole body was in high tension as you swallowed the last drop of his cum and let go of him.

His body immediately collapsed on the chair and his breathing started to get more and more regular. You didn’t move. Still kneeling in front of him.

When he finally opened his eyes he gave you a dark smile.

“I think we should move this into your bedroom”

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Tags: @jonghoisbabie @multidreams-and-desires @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers-writes @serialee @crimsonbubble @cometoceantrenches @em--ilysm @deja-vux @kawaiiloli00 @ddeonghwva @aaaaajonghooooo @sansbun @cookies-n-joong @plonys @hijirikaww @nari-nim @yunkiwii @mingi-ivity @racheloveyunho @seongsangsgf @jhmylove @lizsvcks @yunhobabygurl @leoninadecorazones @kerra-that-one-random-fangirl @star1117-archives

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez story #ateez smut #smut #kpop smut #kpop imagines #ateez mingi #song mingi smut #song mingi #mingi #mingi x reader #female!reader #🔥

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hadeslegacyhephgirl · 9 months ago

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It was 6 in the morning when Nico received the phone call from Lou Ellen.

"Whaaaat"

"It's Will, Nico. He's in a coma"

The words crashed into him like a tsunami. Fear and worry made a home in his chest

"Where are you?" "Hospital" "… what?" "Ambulance go there before I could call anyone. And our chariot crashed bad, it's basically disintegrated"

"I'm going to wake Jason and Kayla and meet you there" "Can you get Annabeth and Cecil, too?" "Why?" "Annabeth 'cause I'm gonna need brains here. Cecil because- just- because" "Fine. Where?" "Carra Hospital, Room 304, I'll send you a picture" "I'll be there in 10" He hung up

Waking everyone up was… mixed.

All Jason and Kayla had to hear was 'Will' and they got up immediately.

Cecil only came when he heard Lou was there.

Annabeth insisted they take along Piper and Percy.

So it was a party of seven that turned up in room 304.

Cecil wrapped Lou in a hug from behind as Lou talked to Annabeth, who was holding Percy's hand. Kayla and Piper went to see if they could charmspeak a nurse to bring another IV for the nectar Kayla had brought, and Jason went along just in case there were monsters.

Leaving Nico standing by Wills bed, staring at his wounds.

He counted each and every nick and scratch on Will's face and arms (37) and took in the propped up, bandaged leg.

Suddenly he couldn’t bear to be so far away from Will. He climbed into the bed and tucked himself between Will's side and arm, nesting his head on Wills chest, closed his eyes and let the tears come

~*~ (Will)

It was dark

He felt around

There was a fuzzy silence

He couldn't remember anything

Except that he was a boy

Chink

He looked up. Something, a piece of light hung in the air. He touched it.

"Boy" "7 boys, two girls" "Hey, boy-o"

Oh.

These were memories.

So he had to piece himself back together.

He could do that.

He will do that.

Chink

Another shard of light, right next to the first.

"Will" "Hi, Will" "Will?" "William!"

His name was Will

There was solace in knowing his own name

Chink

This time, only one voice rang out

"Solace" The voice sounded annoyed, slightly raspy with a slight Italian accent.

This time it was accompanied by a picture.

Two dark brown eyes, so big and beautiful, yet so dark and knowing they looked like they were staring into your soul.

The image hung in the air, away from the other chinks of light. Like the beginning of a picture. One he would figure out.

~*~ (Nico)

"Should we wake him up?" "Nah, leave him. You know he can't live without his Will" "What if he never wakes up, though?" "He will. He has to. Besides, Nico wouldn't let him die" "But-" "No buts. We'll contact Hades, Hypnos, Apollo, anyone that can help. We're not losing him"

Nico drifted in and out of sleep, not wanting to confront the waking world, but scared of the nightmares that threatened to take him.

Finally he opened his eyes to find Jason sitting in the visitor chair.

"Hey, Neeks." "What time is it?" "A little past-" He checked his watch

"- one in the afternoon. Listen, we're gonna get Will outta here." "how?" "Piper'll be here in a few minutes with the van, Kayla and Annabeth. She's gonna charmspeak him out."

Nico looked down at Will and grabbed his hand. "We're getting you out of here, Will. So don’t you dare go dying on me." ~*~

My name is Will Solace I am 17 years old I am one of Apollo's children My home is Camp Half-Blood I'm a doctor, medic, head councilor

I have siblings, family, friends. And I will get out of here.

~*~

"Careful!" "We are being careful!" "… sorry"

They loaded Will into the back of the van

Piper had, quite literally, worked like a charm. Within ten minutes they had Will on a transportable gurney and out the hospital.

It was a silent drive back to camp

~*~ He'd done it.

The door was nearly complete. A door of light, of memory. The chinks of light had formed the rectangular shape as he'd gathered more and more information.

All that was missing was a doornob.

The picture was done too.

A picture of a boy with raven black hair framing milky white skin and big brown, almost black eyes. Dressed in a leather jacket with ripped black jeans and a black shirt that read Camp Half-Blood

But it felt wrong.

Like there was something missing.

The boy's name.

He began looking though the memories of the door, each piece a word with memories attached to it.

Then he remembered.

There was one that only had one memory attached

Maybe it was longer?

Hesitantly he touched it.

"Solace"

Silence. He waited "Fine." The Italians voice again.

"There we go. See, it wasn't so hard, was it?" His own voice now. "But just three days, you hear me?" "Sure, unless I need to keep you longer" "Solace, I swear-" "C'mon, Neeks." "Do not call me that" "Alright Death Breath-" "Or that" "Zombie Lord?" "Absolutely not. It's Nico, full stop" "Alright, Sunshine" "… that's okay too, I guess"

Ding

The picture of the boy - Nico - suddenly seemed vibrant, alive.

And the door had a doornob.

Hesitantly he reached for it.

Back home.

Back to Nico

If there was any chance the son of Hades could love him back.

~*~

It had been a week since Will had gone under the coma.

Five days since he'd been moved to the infirmary

Jason had given up on trying to get Nico to leave Wills bedside, except to shower every so often.

So it was just Will and Nico and silence.

Silence that was broken with a raspy voice coming from the bed

"Nico?"

Nico looked up into Wills brilliant blue eyes that were open and he was awake.

A sob wrenched from his throat and he flung himself into Wills arms.

"Hey, Sunshine. How long has it been?"

Nico sniffed and buried his head into Wills shoulder.

"A week" "oh." Nico sniffed again and looked up into very much open celeste blue eyes "But your back now, right?" "Yeah, Sunshine. I'm right here. And I always will be."

~*~

#solangelo #solangelo fanfiction #angst #fanfiction #nico di angelo #pjo #will solace

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daydreamvalley · 1 year ago

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October Sunsets (1) - nanami kento

𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 Summary: You daydream about a sweet conversation you had earlier in the day with Nanami, right before he left for a job in Shibuya.

Content: Fluff + slight angst

7:00 pm, October 31st, Haneda Airport, sounds of passengers trying to find their seats and infants crying filled the air while you sat in a frozen state, looking down at your phone screen with furrowed brows. The single ticks next to your images still stared back at you. Pending. It had been ten minutes, yet he was not owning up to his part of the request he made. Nanami asked for two images, one containing evidence of the bread he recommended you try at the airport cafe. The other is a photo of your choice, just not a picture of yourself since you'll already be bombarding him with plenty throughout the flight.

Your second undelivered message read: "Bossy much? Here you go, it's a pretty sunset, don't you think?"

In your opinion, it was. It was taken while facing a large airport window that gave you a view of the departing planes. The autumn sky was free of clouds, with only clear hues of orange and purple in the image. Its quality made up for the previous blurry bread photo. Exhaling in defeat, you accepted that he may have begun the big task he hinted at having to do that evening. Denmark was fifteen hours away. You'd hoped to depart in a better mood after an anticipated message from your ex-coworker making fun of your poor photography skills. Even two grey ticks would suffice. Your cheeks started to warm just at the thought of his teasing, but you couldn’t let your mind wander or else you wouldn’t stop. Turning to your right, you realized your isle seat was going to be empty, freeing whichever lucky soul from witnessing the nightmare of you smiling at yourself alone. Though, he didn’t deserve that much since you should be upset with him. After shutting off the power on the phone, annoyingly shoving it into your tote bag, and then letting out a scoff, the last bit of your parting conversation with him suddenly replayed in your mind.

The two of you walked side by side on the pavement to your apartment building, “Did you pack the neck pillow?” He had already begun interrogating.

“The one that you bought for me. Now imagine the drama if I forgot it.”

“I’m the only person who owns your extra apartment key, so try not to forget anything. Shoko wants me on call later tonight, and I most likely won’t get your messages.

“Okay, but you keep dismissing what I asked earlier. Are you sure there’s nothing you’re curious about in Denmark that you want me to relay to you while I’m there?”

“Nothing my family hasn’t already told me. At this age, I only care to know that I have lineage there. I doubt anyone related to me in Denmark knows I exist. I'm also a sorcerer, and jujutsu sorcery is a shitstorm. Can I ask that you bring me lots of pastries?”

“I could run into your distant cousin and you’re still thinking about bread.” You stop mid-walk to face him in disbelief. Still curious as to how he could address such a deep part of himself like it's an uninteresting topic.

“I'm not curious about it. Baking, on the other hand. Where do I even begin? Is the bakery outside your office building still there? Nothing will compare to that place. Expensive but it was worth it.” Nanami asks, stopping your walk to the entrance of your apartment building to pull out his cell phone.

“It’s not a historical monument. Of course, it’s still there.”

“Then I’ll replace your presence in the cafe while you're away. The leather couch in the back corner is still your favorite right?” He was now taking pictures of the bright dawn above him.

“Replacing me also means talking to my coworkers. Your ex-coworkers.”

He cringed at the idea, “Hmm. You were the only person I talked to there.”

You giggle at the current visual of him leaning back like a photographer with one eye closed. “Exactly. You can admit you miss your bread. Don’t use me as an excuse. Also, the sky isn’t that pretty at this time why’d you take a picture?”

“If it feels right to me, I snap the photo. Not thinking too much about it at the time makes looking back at it more special.” He firmly states while he showed you the image. “It’s a feeling.”

“Don't take offence, but I’m not sure I get it.” You give a sheepish smile, honestly wishing you could understand his vision.

“None taken. It’s nothing complicated. Try it today. When you have a gut feeling that your memory won’t serve you in the future when you reminisce about a specific day, document it with the sky.” He advises while slipping the phone back into his cream-white blazer's inner pocket. “Send them to me too. I’ll create a folder for our sunsets.”

“That doesn’t seem fair. You get pastries, sunsets, and travel photos. I want more than a folder in your camera roll when I return.” You sternly said, with your hands on your hips, but quickly lost your confident stance when the brisk air pricked your bare arms, causing a full-body shiver.

Nanami maintained eye contact while removing his blazer to snug it around your shoulders.

“You’re right. How about a date then?”

Your eyes widened. For the new warmth that blanketed your skin and the fact that he had finally said it. The one word you’ve been yearning to hear from him since you started spending time together after he left the insurance company. The event that could lift the barrier. The barrier which maintained your label as his good friend. An ex-colleague. Turning the potentially one-sided crush you’ve had on him into a mutual pursuit.

“Not at the bakery.” You mentally slap yourself for being so quick to respond. Thinking you had removed all the chances to come off as cool.

A deep, raspy chuckle left his body, “No. Not the bakery. I’ll worry about the location. You just show up the same as always, lovely and perfect. The experience will be befitting of you.”

“If you say so.” You bashfully comment. Not being able to meet his eyes, you lifted a hand to playfully shove his arm, but he gently held it in place.

With the same gentle manner, he interlocked your fingers. His swift action made you ponder, whether the blazer was doing its job or the brown eyes beaming at you was increasing your body temperature.

Softly grazing his fingers across your knuckles, he brought the back of your hand to his lips. Placing a tender kiss.

“Don’t become a stranger.”

“Impossible.”

11:14 pm, October 31st, somewhere in the air.

A hand tugged on the cream-white blazer you used as a blanket, succeeding at waking you up from a nap.

“Sorry to disturb you, ma’am. I’m delivering the next meal to you now.” The soft-spoken flight attendant apologized. She placed the tray on the vacant tray table.

Almost forgetting where you were, you half sleepily heartened to her, “It’s not a problem. Thank you.”

Barely looking in the right direction, it took a couple of seconds, paired with an infant's cries to recall your location.

I’m not suffering again. Where are my EarPods?

Digging into the blazer pockets, you felt a heavy metal. Shit. The weight of your heart had become heavier. The chances of you shitting yourself were on par with the crying infant on the plane. You might have just ruined the chances of having your first date with Nanami.

You hijacked the guy’s phone. Any audacity you thought you had to be frustrated with him for not responding to your texts instantly vanished.

Okay! First time writing a longer piece so be nice.

Will probably do a part two if anyone wants it!

Edit: we did it (Part 2)

This is rough idea so let me know what details I can articulate better.

It’s also on Ao3, if you would prefer to continue the rest there!

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sluttyten · 1 year ago

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You In My Arms

Chapter 7: An Eye For An Eye

full masterlist || haechan masterlist || YIMA chapter index

summary: now that the truth is out in the open, you find it harder than ever to keep yourself from wanting Haechan constantly. But at least now you know that he wants you just as much.

length: 9,317 words

tags: voyeurism, exhibitionism, slowburn, friends to lovers, masturbation, public sex, fingering, general perversion, smut

previous chapter || next chapter

Waking the next morning, you stare up at the ceiling for a good long while. Remembering yesterday, remembering last night.

You got the truth from Haechan. You shared secrets.

He kissed you.

And still, you feel giddy about it, like a young girl with her first kiss.

Haechan kissed you.

You kissed him.

You cover your face with your hands to muffle the excited sound that spills from your lips.

What happens now?

You go through your day as normal. You clean the apartment, you and your roommate make a grocery run in the mid-afternoon, and then as the day creeps towards evening, your thoughts start to turn and focus exclusively on Haechan. Thinking of what you’d said to him before he first kissed you. An eye for an eye; a truth for a truth. You want equality, which means he’s watched you, so you want to watch him. Properly watch him instead of just from a distance in the dark, though you didn’t share that particular truth with him last night.

Your roommate leaves for the night to go on a date with her partner and then stay at their place. Which leaves you to fend for yourself for the night. Before she got into this relationship, the two of you spent many Friday and Saturday nights together here in the living room, bundled up in blankets with takeout from a variety of your favorite places. But tonight you either have to decide on a place for yourself, or you can throw together dinner from what you’d bought earlier at the grocery store.

Unsure what you really want, you just play around on your phone until your brain and your stomach can come to an agreement on what to eat.

You scroll on Twitter for a little while, get lost down a TikTok rabbit hole until the sky outside is dark and the time staring back at you reads quarter after nine. You switch to Instagram, and right there at the top of your screen it shows that one haechanahceah has added to his story.

You tap on it.

He’s holding his phone close to his face as he laughs, the blue sky of twilight barely visible behind him along with a flash of YangYang’s face and toothy smile. The sound of wind rushes against the microphone. The camera flips and you see a skateboard under his feet, pavement rushing by, and then a path stretching out along the river.

The next part to his story: pictures of food covering a table. Haechan tagged several other people, though YangYang and Ten’s are the only usernames that you recognize from them.

Drinks. Everyone clinking their glasses together.

And then the most recent addition to his story is just a simple picture of the moon shining like a fat pearl in the velvet night sky. There’s a song playing, lyrics scrolling over the image of the moon, and it’s a song of neediness, desire, longing.

It was posted five minutes ago.

And just as you’re about to close out of the app and order yourself some dinner, your phone chimes with a message.

“Are you doing anything right now?” From Haechan.

When you don’t answer immediately, you receive a second message from him. “I saw that you just watched my story. Don’t pretend like you’re not on your phone.”

You call him.

He answers immediately.

Judging by the lack of wind, you assume he’s not outside any longer. And furthermore, the silence in the background makes you think he might not even be with the others anymore.

“Hello?” He says, a little breathlessly.

“What did you want?”

Silence, then a slight rustling sound. Then, “I was just wondering if you were free or if you’re busy. I’ve been out with some guys all day, I just got home, and I want to send you something.”

“Oh?” You cradle your phone against your face. “Like what?”

“How was it that you phrased it yesterday?” Haechan pauses, as if thinking, then says, “Oh, right. You said you want equality. You want to watch me, since I’ve watched you.”

Your heart thuds in your chest, sending pulsing heat to your extremities. “Haechan….”

“So let me ask again,” his voice dips lower, asking, “Are you doing anything right now? Can I send you something?”

All thoughts of dinner have been removed from your mind. The only hunger you feel now is for what Haechan is offering you through the phone.

“I’m not doing anything.” You hope your voice isn’t shaking, that you don’t sound nervous or over-excited. “Send it.”

He laughs a little under his breath, and you know that you failed at sounding so cavalier. The eagerness and hunger bled through in your voice.

“Alright, I’m hanging up now.” Haechan’s own voice is light with amusement and excitement. “I’ll send it shortly.”

After the call goes dead on his end of the line, you sit there, clutching your phone in your hands, perched on the edge of the sofa. You wonder if you should order food, if you should just try to eat something. It’s late. If you’re going to eat tonight, you’d better do it now before you get so swept up that you forget to eat altogether. And where do you want to watch this video at? Do you want to just watch it out here? Or should you close yourself away in the privacy of your bedroom, snug in your bed to witness exactly what you’ve been longing to see for so long now?

You think back to the night that started all of this interest in watching and being watched. The night of the hot tub. The first time that you felt there could genuinely be a little something more than just friendship between you and Haechan as you shared that bed with him. You remember longingly noticing the bulge in the front of his shorts when he’d emerged from the hot tub’s water, and you remember about an hour later when he’d stripped beside you in the dark. It had been quite dark, but not dark enough that you hadn’t caught the barest glimpse of his ass and just the shadowy hint of his cock.

But now? Now your curiosity will be satisfied.

You snack on something you pull from the pantry, waiting and waiting and waiting. After twenty minutes, you send him a text with a bunch of question marks.

“Patience baby” is all you get back from Haechan.

But the thing is, you’re feeling rather impatient. You’re horny now, excited thinking about getting to watch him. You do move to your bedroom, closing the door, turning the lights down, tucking yourself in with your phone held to your chest. You’re going to enjoy this.

Finally after too fucking long, your phone chimes again.

When you open the message, the rectangle of the video is just black.

You tap play, and it fills your screen, still black.

For a moment, you think something’s wrong with the video, but then you hear sound. The rustle of sheets. A shuddering breath. Something moving in the dark, which you realize a moment later is the shadow of some part of Haechan’s body against the faint light of his computer’s blinking power button.

What is this? You wanted to see him, not just hear him.

And then the video is illuminated as his bedside lamp is clicked on. The phone camera passes over rumpled sheets. There’s a flicker of tanned skin, the curve of his bare thigh. You hold your breath as at last the camera focuses on the fit of his fingers around his dick.

It’s pretty and tan, just like the rest of him.

His cock is actually bigger than you imagined it would be. You figured Haechan would be a little below average in terms of size, if you’re being honest, but the cock you’re looking at on your phone screen exceeds your expectations. He’s probably average in length, but damn, he’s thick from base to the tip, which is a pretty shade of pink that reminds you of his lips. He’s got a perfect cock, in your opinion. Right away, you want him in your mouth, your throat aches for it.

And then you just sit back and watch the video, admiring the way he touches himself, the sounds he makes, the way that as he gets close to orgasm his hips twitch off the bed to rock into the circle of his fingers. You drink everything in, hungrily consuming the video to notice all the small details. The small scattering of moles across his belly and thighs and his arm and hand. The dusting of hair leading from below his navel to the base of his cock.

You’ve been with a decent amount of men. You’ve seen cocks, touched them, tasted them, had them inside you. But you’ve never had Haechan’s, and the longer you sit here watching, the more that you feel like this video is just a cruel tease.

Is that how he felt while watching the video feed of you masturbating in the office? Like it was just a cruel tease of what he couldn’t have?

Haechan moans your name in the video and your belly goes tight and hot at the sound, a whined praise from his lips.

How long would it take you to get to his apartment right now?

His hand flies over his length in the video, his moans like music to your ears. “Oh, fuck,” he grunts, “Baby, bet your pussy would be so tight around me right now, so wet and slippery. I know you get super wet. Are you wet right now?”

Fuck. Yeah, you are. You’re not touching yourself though, too caught up in simply watching him to want to take away from it. But your core is throbbing with heat, panties soaked through.

“You’d be taking my cock so well, angel.” Haechan gives one sharp thrust into his hand, his heels digging into the mattress as his hips lift off the bed. “Do you think you’d be a good girl for me? Do whatever I ask? Would you get on your knees and beg for me?”

If you were there right now, you certainly would be on your knees, mouth open wide, tongue out for his cock. You would let Haechan make such a mess of you. You would let him cum on your tits and your throat in public, and you would proudly wear that pearl necklace like a prize.

“Or would I need to punish you? You’ve shown me how naughty you can be.” He moans, passing his thumb right over the weeping slit of his cock. “What would even be a good punishment for you? Taking you out in public, teasing you, but not letting you cum? Sit you on my cock in front of all of our friends, tease you nice and slow while you keep my cock warm. But, no, you would enjoy that too much, wouldn’t you? What if I didn’t allow you to cum? Would that be punishment enough? I’d have to take you home, angel, edge you for as many times as you nearly gave us away.”

Your toes curl at the sound of his words, and you feel your pussy clench around nothing. You can’t take it anymore.

You slip your fingers inside your panties, dipping them through your wetness.

Haechan moans again, and your entire body buzzes and flares with heat in response.

“I’ve never really done anything in public before, not quite like you,” Haechan says, still fisting his cock. “Only ever when I’m tucked out of sight, in semi-privacy, or after dark.” His hand holding his phone shakes, his breath shudders. “But you make me want to try getting a little riskier.”

You can just imagine it now. Taking Haechan out with you like you’d tried to do with a few of those random guys you hooked up with. Taking him to the park to have some fun on a picnic, tucked in a corner of the aquarium as the pretty fish swim by, fucking around in the car on a hot summer day with the windows down and your sweaty bodies exposed to the sunlight.

You fuck yourself on your fingers, trying to keep your eyes focused on the video, but your vision grows hazy with lust, fantasies sweeping into your mind to overlay the visual of Haechan squeezing his hand around his cock with a groan, bucking his hips up into the tight grip of his fist as he finally cums with your name on his lips. Pearly drops coat his fingers, landing on his belly, and he keeps touching until he cums weakly again, spurting from his cock onto his belly too, all of it gathering in the dip of his belly button.

You want to lick him clean, gather it all on your tongue and let it leak over his dick again before you blow him just to see how quick his refractory period is.

You replay the video, and this time you touch yourself. You fold a pillow on the bed, straddle it, and ride your fingers while you hump the pillow, keeping the volume on his video loud where your phone lies beside your knee. You close your eyes and imagine that you’re riding him, fucking yourself on his cock instead of your fingers, that your clit is gaining friction from contact with him instead of your pillow. You imagine that it’s his hand coming down on your ass, a sharp smack that leaves your skin smarting; that it’s his fingers that pinch at your nipples; his shoulders that your fingernails dig into instead of the mattress.

You slump to the side, fingers still slowly pumping as your body trembles from your orgasm. Your free hand searches the bed for your phone and when you swipe out of the video, you see Haechan has sent you a few more messages that you somehow missed.

One is a closeup photo of his belly, shiny and wet with his cum. One is a simple question of “did you like it?” And then the third and final message is just a steamy mirror selfie, where only a circle to show his face has been wiped clean on the mirror, and the rest of his nude body is blurred out by the steam.

You simply respond with a picture of your hand, cum stretching between your fingers, more wetness dripping down your palm. “I liked it.”

Monday morning, you don’t see Haechan at all before you go into your meeting with Taeil. It’s probably for the best. You wouldn’t be able to focus on the meeting if you’d seen Haechan; instead you’d be lost in dreamland, thinking of his cock, the rasp of his voice as he moaned your name.

So you walk into the meeting with a clear head, which makes it run smoothly and successfully. Taeil is proud of you, he’d told you, stating that you worked hard and efficiently on the project, finishing it in less time than it would’ve taken anyone else. And he doesn’t say it in so many words necessarily, but he does hint that there might be a promotion coming up for you.

You leave the meeting ecstatic, and the feeling carries you through the rest of the day.

Tuesday, Haechan gets called away for a business meeting on the other side of the city. Wednesday, it’s your turn. Annoyingly, now that you’re finished with the project and finally thought you’d have some free time, something has always got one or the other of you busy.

You’re never at work at the same time for that whole week, and that weekend he goes home to visit his family.

You receive a video then of him on the beach at home, the sunset stretching out before him, and Haechan jerking off. He sends it along with the message “since I once saw you by the ocean, this is only fair,” which he explains he meant he watched you and Renjun in that outdoor shower in Thailand.

You message each other back and forth constantly that weekend. Just casual conversations and then also the deeper, dirtier kind of conversations. More talk about his watching and your enjoyment of being watched, his new experimentation with exhibitionism. You talk about more things — other kinks and interests. His somewhat unsurprising interest in consensual non-consent. Your interest in a threesome, which you’ve never participated in; Haechan follows this up in recounting what he’s experienced.

Come the following Monday morning, following all of that talk with none of the action, you’re itching with the need to see him. To actually be in the same space as Haechan.

That need for proximity only grows when you walk into the office and spot Haechan sitting at his desk just a short distance from yours.

He’s sipping at an iced americano, spinning back and forth in his chair as he stares at the desktop computer’s screen. He turns to catch your eye as you pass him. Your fingertips brush the back of his chair, just barely touching the fabric of his shirt, but he turns his entire seat to follow you with his eyes.

“You smell nice today,” he says.

You turn to look at him, and Haechan’s eyes are currently trailing down your legs. The skirt you’d worn today is perhaps a bit shorter than entirely appropriate, but it has captured his attention fully. He hungrily stares at your thighs, your calves, the way that your heels hug your feet. And then his attention sweeps up to your face again.

“Do you have plans later?” He asks even as you keep walking away to your own desk.

You don’t, and you tell him that, but before he can suggest any plans for you and him, someone else speaks up from where you hadn’t even noticed her.

Taeil’s secretary.

“Oh, Channie!” You cringe as she uses a nickname for Haechan. “Mr. Moon was actually wondering if you could help him out later. You have a friend that’s a mechanic, right? Mr. Moon’s car has been acting up, so he was wondering if you wouldn’t mind taking it for your friend to look at?”

Haechan barely conceals his scowl. The friend in question is Chenle, who recently took his history of wealth, an interest in the inner workings of luxury cars and what he’d learned while studying for a business degree, and he opened a car repair shop business — a far cry from the culinary degree he’d mentioned pursuing when you last saw him.

“Sure, I can take it to him. But his shop is expensive. He typically only works on luxury cars,” Haechan says. And as far as you’re aware, Mr. Moon drives a Hyundai to and from work everyday, not exactly a luxury vehicle.

The secretary just smiles. “That’s fine! Mr. Moon recently upgraded to a BMW.”

Hours later, as you’re leaving for the day, you follow Haechan down along with Mr. Moon’s secretary to see the car. It is in fact a shiny, brand new BMW. You wouldn’t think there would be anything wrong with it at all since it looks like it just rolled right out of the factory into this spot in the parking garage.

The secretary passes the keys over to Haechan, and you don’t miss the nervous way his eyes widen as he takes in the feel of the keys in his hand and then eyes the length of the flawless and expensive car.

“You’re sure he wants me to take it? He doesn’t want to? I could give you directions, and give my friend a call.” Haechan’s fingers close around the keys.

She shakes her head, smiling widely as she looks from Haechan to you and then back again. “Mr. Moon has a flight to catch for that conference in Germany. So he’s unavailable to take the car right now, and since he’ll be out of the country for the next week, it just makes sense to have it get worked on while he’s gone.” And then she passes a card over to Haechan as well. “You can charge the mechanic’s bill on this card. And once the car’s finished if you wouldn’t mind just bringing it right back here, and you can leave the key and the card in his office. Thank you, Channie, we both really appreciate it!”

And then she’s walking off, leaving you and Haechan standing there to gaze at the car.

“You do have your license, don’t you?” You ask.

Haechan nods wordlessly. “Yeah, but shit. I’ve never even been in a car this nice; I’ve definitely never driven one as nice as this.”

He unlocks the car, and you watch as he nervously reaches for the door handle. The door opens smoothly, soundlessly, unlike your car which groans loudly pretty much every time you touch it.

The interior of the car is a cool, sleek black. The dashboard is a screen that comes to life the moment Haechan turns the car on. The engine purrs, and Haechan settles into the driver’s seat, making himself right at home.

“How do I look?” He asks, gripping the steering wheel and staring ahead through the windshield. “Do I look like I could drive one of these?”

You laugh. “You look hot, Haechan. Like a very, very wealthy man who uses flashy cars to impress people.”

He glances over at you. “Is that what you think Taeil’s doing? Using the car to impress, possibly to compensate?”

“Impress yes. Compensate?” You look Haechan in the eye as you say, “I think you’d be the one who could tell me that. Does he have anything to compensate for?” Haechan’s admitted that he’s watched Taeil fuck the secretary through his hidden cameras, so he should know if Taeil’s gotten a flashy car to compensate for dick size or his skills in bed.

Haechan shakes his head. “No, he’s fine. Just to impress people then. And it’s definitely working because I’m impressed.” He buckles his seatbelt, adjusting the seat height and distance from the steering wheel, readjusting the mirrors. He does look very hot in the driver’s seat of this nice car. The suit he’d worn to the office today and the pair of sunglasses that he plucks from the cup holder certainly help with the vibe.

He closes the car door, and a moment later rolls down the dark-tinted window so you can see him again.

“You want to come with me?”

You lean in, resting your elbows on the edge of the window. Your face is only inches away from Haechan’s, and that delicious fragrance he wears is all you know for a few delirious seconds. You can envision yourself sliding onto the buttery soft leather of the passenger seat. You can envision convincing Haechan to pull over into another parking garage or a park’s parking lot, into anywhere at all and letting you ride him in the driver's seat of this fancy car, finally getting to experience his cock for real.

You think you can see some of your fantasy playing out behind the dark brown of his eyes too. He’s smiling with a little edge of heat.

“I shouldn’t.” You take a step back. “I know I said I didn’t have plans, and I haven’t seen Chenle in a while so it would be nice to see him, but I have a feeling that if I get in that car with you…” You meet Haechan’s gaze. “I feel like I’d be distracting you a little too much. Or at least I would want to.”

Your gaze drifts from his eyes to the curl of his hand on the wheel. You don’t think you’d even be out of this parking garage before you’d already be tugging his hand to rest on your thigh, urging his fingers up beneath your skirt. After a week of being denied Haechan’s physical presence in your life, a week filled with nothing but want for every part of him, you feel like an addict being presented with their drug of choice, and it’s almost impossible for you to say no to what he’s offering. But you’re trying so hard to not jump Haechan in your boss’s car.

“What you’re saying is I’m too sexy right now in this car. You’d be throwing yourself at me?” He grins.

That’s not what you said, but yes, it’s exactly what you meant.

You take another step back. “I’m going to go home. You take this car to Chenle for him to work on. Maybe let me know when you’re done, and we’ll see about making some plans then. If not, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Again, you look at his hand on the wheel, the way it flexes, squeezing around the curve of the steering wheel, and your mind flashes to the videos he’s sent you — his hand on his cock, fingers dripping in cum.

You walk away, taking the elevator to the third level of the parking garage where you’d left your car this morning, and then you sit in your car for a few moments to compose yourself before you head home. Your thoughts, as much as you try to steer them away from the crafted fantasy of fucking Haechan in a fancy car, keep returning there. Again and again on the drive home.

You’ve just arrived home, just stepped out of your car to head up to your apartment, when you receive a message from Haechan.

Without hesitation, you open it.

A video. At first you can only see the interior of the car, and then the camera swings down to focus on his lap. Or, more specifically, on his bare cock.

“Traffic,” Haechan says. “I’m stuck in traffic, and I’ve got a boner because all I can think about is how if you were here with me right now, you’d be throwing yourself at me.” He laughs a little. “Okay, maybe I’d be the one unable to keep my hands to myself. But unfortunately, right now my hands are all I’ve got for myself, and we’re barely moving in traffic, so I just, ah, thought I’d bide my time productively. I said it the other night, you make me want to take risks in public.”

He’s just rocking his hips off the seat, driving his cock against his hand.

“The fact this isn’t even my car makes this even hotter. Do you think our boss and secretary have fucked in here yet, or am I the one breaking it in? Shit, if you were here this could be your hand around me. Or maybe your lips. We could break this car in together, would you like that? The windows are so dark though, no one would be able to see you.”

He strokes his cock with a moan. The car lurches forward, you can see his thigh relax and clench as he releases and then steps on the brake.

“Gotta be careful,” he mumbles to himself. But then he’s right back at it, stroking his cock, and it rubs against Taeil’s steering wheel by accident. His fingers squeeze around his tip and you can see the shiny smear of his precum against the material of the steering wheel.

He thrusts his hips up, another moan breaking through his lips.

“It’s gonna be a mess when I cum,” he grunts. “Knew I should’ve brought you for easy cleanup. Could’ve cum in your mouth, made you swallow every drop.”

Your body reacts to that. A lurching feeling of arousal in your core, imagining cleaning up Haechan’s cum.

His hand stills on his cock for a moment, just the thumb teasing slow circles around the tip, and then he releases his hold with a curse. “We’re moving again.”

And the video ends.

It’s not until that moment that you realize you’ve just been standing frozen there beside your car this whole time. You pocket your phone and head up to your apartment to take a cold shower. When you get out, you have a new message.

Another video.

In this one, the phone is at a different angle and his pants are gone, his shirt is lifted up to expose his belly. And he’s quickly jerking off. There’s no finesse, no teasing or dirty talk. It’s just a quick, short clip of Haechan’s hand moving fast and tight, bitten back moans escaping his teeth as he cums over his fist, dripping down onto his thighs and onto that flawless leather seat.

“I get why you like this,” Haechan says, bringing the phone up so you can see his chin. “Some man just walked by where I’m parked on the street outside Chenle’s place. The windows are dark so he couldn’t see in, but I had the window rolled down just a little, and he definitely heard me moaning. He was looking, and that’s when I came. What do you think he’d have done if he actually saw me?”

Exactly. That’s exactly what you like about exhibitionism. The thrill of getting away with it and the questions of what if you hadn’t gotten away with it. What would they do if they caught you?

In the video clip you watch Haechan wipe his hand clean on the inside of his undershirt before he tugs his button-down back into place. He straightens his tie and his jacket, then he manages to slide his boxers back up over his hips with one hand.

“Do you think he’s got any napkins or tissues in here?” Haechan mumbles, reaching around to rustle through the contents of Taeil’s fancy car. “I need something to wipe my jizz up with.”

You smile to yourself, noting the blend of amusement and frustration in Haechan’s voice.

Eventually he finds something, and he wipes and smears the glob of his cum that had landed on the leather seat.

It’s then that he slides his phone onto the car’s dashboard, giving you a view of the sky through the windshield. He makes some noise that you assume is him pulling his pants back up, and then he finally picks his phone back up again, showing his face on the video.

“Anyway, I’d better head inside now and pass the car off to Chenle.” The car door opens, the sounds of the wind and traffic mixing with the sound of his voice. “I’ll have to see how long this takes, but maybe we can still make plans.”

You hope so.

You spend a little while after that taking care of the Haechan-inspired itch that needs scratching, feeding yourself with fantasies featuring him. You keep expecting to be interrupted by him texting or calling about plans, but you’ve taken care of yourself with no word from him.

You wait, going about your afternoon doing some laundry and a little cleaning around the apartment. All of it is meant to distract you from being nervous about the reality of making plans with Haechan. Plans that you assume will only lead to finally having sex with him.

And when he finally sends you a message, your heart takes up an erratic pace.

But it’s not quite the message you’d hoped for.

“Chenle wants to hang out. He already messaged Renjun, YangYang, and Xiaojun. Do you want to come?”

Now, those aren’t exactly the plans you had in mind, and even as your heart swells with disappointment, you agree. You do want to see your friends, especially Chenle who you haven’t seen in quite a while. But considering that you’re meeting up with all of them for dinner, that they all have a tendency to want to chat late into the night, and since you’re picking up YangYang and Xiaojun on the way, you don’t find your odds of any actual plans with Haechan happening tonight.

Xiaojun’s girlfriend has basically moved in with him, so she comes along too, and your car is crowded on the way to meet the other three for dinner. And the booth table Chenle booked is even more crowded.

Everyone is squeezed in so tightly that Haechan has you pressed up against the wall. Across from you, Xiaojun pulled his girlfriend onto his lap. The woman that comes over to take your order only offers an apologetic smile and says that this is the only size table they had left.

It’s fine. Really.

You’re all very close friends, so if some of you have to sit with arms around each other, ankles knocking and twisting beneath the table, that’s fine.

And if it means that at some point after your order is put in and the first round of drinks are served, Haechan tugs one of your legs up over his so he can slide just a little closer to you and save a little extra space for Renjun on his other side, well… you’re not going to complain.

He glances your way, a sparkle in his eye.

His hand doesn’t leave your thigh.

You’re still wearing a skirt, though it’s not the short one you’d worn to work today.

This is a longer, casual skirt. One that’s loose and floaty enough that when Haechan starts walking his fingers along your thigh, the fabric easily starts bunching up, gathering beneath his fingers and drawing up your leg.

You tamp down the urge to shiver when the pads of his warm fingers make contact with your bare thigh.

Liquor burns the back of your throat as you quickly drink the alcohol the woman brought to your table. You hope that the flush of alcohol in your cheeks might conceal the way that you can already feel yourself blushing beneath Haechan’s touch.

And then he starts stroking his fingers over your inner thigh. Moving them back and forth, fingers drumming gently a melody that you can’t determine.

The frustrating thing is that you’re in a tizzy, but Haechan is perfectly cool. He’s maintaining a conversation with the others while he builds the heat inside your core.

And then he squeezes your thigh.

Palm flat to your skin. Fingers pressing in.

You snap your head to the side to look at him, your hand dropping beneath the table to cover his hand on your thigh. Your leg draped over his twitches, foot kicking out.

Unfortunately your accidental kick makes contact.

Chenle frowns, looking around at your side of the table. “Who just kicked me?”

“Sorry,” Haechan apologizes quickly, covering for you.

Judging by the way that Chenle moves and the slight thump beneath the table, paired with Haechan’s grunt and jolt, you assume Chenle landed a retaliatory kick.

Haechan pouts and starts to whine, playing it up dramatically. The others roll their eyes and tease him as he reaches for Renjun asking for him to kiss it better, as he tells Chenle he owes him dessert because his kick had been an accident while Chenle’s had been fully intentional. He asks YangYang to kiss it better, too, to which YangYang flips Haechan off.

Then he turns to you. “Will you kiss it better?”

Renjun laughs into his drink, nearly choking on it.

He’s known about your crush on Haechan for ages, so you’re sure he finds that comment very amusing.

You glare at Renjun from over Haechan’s shoulder. Haechan pouts at you, and as much as you desperately want to kiss his soft-looking lips, you’re not going to kiss him in front of your friends right now. “Just take a drink, and you’ll forget about your boo-boo.” You pick up his glass and lift it to his lips for him, tipping it back and pouring it into his mouth.

Haechan holds eye contact with you, and a pulse of something races along your spine.

Some of his drink spills from the corner of his mouth, and he lifts a hand to your wrist, pulling your hand and the glass away from his mouth. “I feel better already.”

Beneath the table, he massages your thigh again.

When the food is served, you would’ve thought he’d need both hands to eat, but to your surprise and satisfaction, Haechan keeps one hand firmly on your thigh, the other to handle his chopsticks.

You do your best to maintain conversation with the others. After a while, once you’re used to the weight of Haechan’s hand on your thigh and the press of his fingers along the sensitive skin of your bare upper thigh, conversation and concentration get a little easier. You eat and laugh and talk with your friends all while Haechan’s fingers roam higher.

It’s only once the food on the table is dwindling, once Haechan has eaten his fill apparently, that he turns his focus back to teasing you properly.

He’s in the middle of talking to Xiaojun about some culinary festival. His fingers slide higher than they’ve been yet, brushing the soft edge of your panties.

You choke a little on your food, and his fingers withdraw for a moment as attention around the table turns to you.

“I’m fine.” You cough, reaching for your glass, gulping it down quickly to cool the heat consuming you.

Xiaojun resumes talking. Haechan’s fingers return to your panties, slower this time and accompanied by a glance to the side from him. Checking with you.

You slide your hand down to his again, giving him a nod of approval, and applying a little pressure to get his hand moving again.

The corner of his lips turn up in a barely-suppressed smile.

The smile grows when his fingers brush along the center of your panties, and he finds them damp. You try to steady your breathing, try not to lean into Haechan as he circles his middle finger over your clit, as he strokes along your slit over your panties, working you up, making you wetter.

You lean back against the cushioned back of the booth, shoulders pressed into the corner.

Your hand shakes when you lift your glass to your lips. You hope no one notices. You hope no one notices the attempt you make at taking a steadying breath. Pray no one notices that your eyes are growing distant, your face warm, your posture dissolving.

Haechan eases his fingers inside your panties, and you slide a little lower in your seat to spread your legs just a bit wider.

You’re reminded of that first time with Renjun. This is a very similar set of people, but this time you don’t have to stare longingly across the room at Haechan’s thighs. Now you’re able to drop a hand to his lap, your hand curving over his gorgeous thighs wrapped snug in his suit pants. You don’t touch him — not in the way that he’s touching you, anyway — just leave your hand there on his thigh, fingernails dragging over the material of his pants as he slides his long, middle finger into your core.

How he does this so smoothly, so casually, showing nothing at all on his face…. You don’t understand.

You’re shaking. You’re blushing.

You’re an exhibitionist, but tonight Haechan has you blushing like a virgin.

Luckily, the others are pretty much distracted. They don’t notice when you thump your head to the side against the wall, when you lower your gaze to your lap to watch the indecent bulge beneath your skirt as Haechan starts moving, thrusting first the one finger, and then as he adds a second.

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from making a sound, though Haechan keeps glancing your way as if hoping to catch your lips parted around a silent moan.

If anyone does look over at you while you’re utterly distracted, then they probably just assume you’ve hit your limit in alcohol. You’re flushed and your eyes are looking a little glazed. You look like you’re about to fall asleep leaning against the wall with your head angled down like that.

Truly you’re a hot fucking mess. Your upper inner thighs feel slick with arousal. You’re sweating behind your knees, the back of your neck, under your arms. It’s taking everything in you to not just throw caution to the wind entirely, to haul yourself into Haechan’s lap, to kiss him and ride him right here at the table in front of your friends.

That thought ignites a new level of heat inside you.

You remember talking about something like that once with Renjun. Imagining cockwarming him in front of your friends. He’d not been too sure about it, but that had been at the start of whatever it was you’d been doing.

A little sound slips out between your lips.

Haechan looks at you, his mouth twisting with amusement, teasing words right on the tip of his tongue.

You grip his thigh, nails biting into his leg even through the pants. Whatever words he was going to say, he swallows down, just watching you eagerly as he fills you again and again with his fingers. Neither of you pay any attention to your friends around the table, each of you too focused on the same goal: your orgasm.

When it hits, you just close your eyes and ride it out on Haechan’s fingers. The waves of pleasure pulse through you, and you can feel the way that you’re soaking his fingers, the way he keeps pressing in for more and more, until finally you move your hand from his thigh to push his hand away from in between yours. Wetness drips against your thigh as he removes his fingers. You may have squirted just a little bit, and judging by the heat in Haechan’s gaze, he liked it.

“Need some water?” He asks, voice just loud enough for the others to barely catch it. “Something to sober you up a bit?”

With his clean hand, Haechan pushes a glass of water towards you, the sides of it dripping with condensation. Gladly, you accept it, gulping down a few mouthfuls of icy water before you press the cool glass to your cheek. When you open your eyes, you make eye contact with Xiaojun.

His gaze flicks away to Haechan, then back to you before he returns his attention to YangYang who’s in the middle of some dramatic retelling of a sleaze from the club the other night. Just once more, Xiaojun glances your way, and you can’t help wondering if he’d noticed. He’s seen you orgasm before, never in public, but he’s no stranger to it.

You wonder if he’s told his girlfriend that you used to hook up?

Before you can pay much more thought to that matter, Haechan brings his hand up from beneath the table. While everyone else is hanging on every word of YangYang’s story, Haechan builds himself a little perilla leaf wrap. You watch him, only barely listening to YangYang, more interested in the way that Haechan fingers glisten with your wetness as he holds the perilla leaf to fill it.

He catches your eye as he bundles the leaf around the filling, and then he all but shoves the entire thing into his mouth. Including his fingers.

It’s lascivious the way that he basically sucks his fingers clean of your wetness. The way that even after he’s pulled them out, he waits until he’s finished chewing and swallowing the perilla leaf wrap, and then he licks each of his fingers.

When Chenle eyes him with a mildly disgusted face, Haechan just shrugs. “What? When you’re eating, don’t you know the juice is the best part?”

“I wouldn’t lick my greasy fingers in public like that,” Chenle responds, shaking his head.

“Yeah, well, there’s lots of things people shouldn’t do in public.” Haechan smirks and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

You sit your glass down and lean forward against the table, resting your hand on his leg beneath the table. “You’re interrupting YangYang’s story. Be quiet, Lee Haechan.”

The rest of the night doesn’t last long. YangYang has to go to work, so he just catches a taxi to take him there. Xiaojun and his girlfriend decide to go check out a restaurant of one of his culinary friends for dessert a short distance away.

“How’re you getting home?” Haechan asks after you’ve all paid and the others have begun to head their own ways. “I know you’re not drunk, but I think you’ve had too much to safely drive yourself.”

Outside, the cool night air brushes against your warm cheeks. You know he’s right. You were drinking quite a bit earlier, and driving wouldn’t be safe.

“You can take me.” You grab for his arm. “My car is right there. You can just drive me home.”

“Chenle did quick work on Mr. Moon’s car earlier. I have to return it to the parking garage at work. I can’t do both.” Haechan leans against the wall outside the restaurant, looking at you. You can’t help smiling, can’t help gravitating towards him.

“I can drive.”

You turn around, almost surprised to see Renjun there. His hands are in his pockets, and he even looks a little surprised too.

“I can drive you home,” he says to you. “I haven’t had anything to drink in the past couple hours. I can take you. Plus, it’s been a little while since we got to talk, just the two of us.”

You nod. “My car is right here.” You point across the street to where your car sits like a piece of garbage behind Mr. Moon’s fancy BMW. Your keys are in your purse, and it takes you a minute of rummaging around to find them, but once you do, you drop them into Renjun’s waiting hand. “And here’re the keys.”

Haechan knocks into your other hand, his knuckles skimming along the back of your hand. “Let me know when you get home, okay? Both of you.”

You’re quite tempted to kiss him goodnight. To drape your arms over Haechan’s shoulders, to taste the saltiness of the samgyeopsal, the sweetness of the soda he’d been drinking too.

He taps a finger against your forehead. “Don’t fall asleep before you get home. Renjun won’t carry you to bed.”

Renjun laughs. “I could.”

You’re not blind to the look that Haechan shoots at Renjun. A sharp look. A curse embedded in there. The threat that spells out that Renjun had better not even try.

Wordlessly, Renjun unlocks your car, and with a loud groan (from the car, not from him), he opens the door on the passenger side for you. You slide in, and Haechan fills the open door, fitting himself in between the door and the body of the car, a hand on each one as he looks down at you.

“Text me once you’re home.” His voice is a gentle command. Your heart warms, and you nod.

“Goodnight, Haechan.”

The driver’s side door of your car squeals open, and Renjun drops himself into the seat.

Haechan steps back, closing the door for you, and he just waits there on the sidewalk, watching as Renjun starts the car, as you both buckle in, as Renjun pulls away from the curb. You wave, and Haechan waves back, watching you go.

You’re still watching him shrink in the reflection of the side mirror when Renjun starts laughing. You look over at him. “What?”

“So you finally succeeded? That’s happening?” He laughs, readjusting his grip on the steering wheel.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You fold your arms, checking the mirror again, but Haechan is too far now for you to be able to see him anymore.

Renjun waits a moment, during which the quiet sound of a turn signal is all that fills the silence. And then, “I’m not blind. Maybe the others were somehow oblivious, but I was sitting right beside Haechan all night. Also, I’ve fingered you around our friends before, I can see the signs.”

“Shut up. You couldn’t tell.” You shoot a look over at him, but he stays focused on the road.

“Maybe. Maybe not. But either way, you just confirmed it for me.” He smiles, sending a short glance over at you before he looks ahead again. “You were too squirmy, and there was a long time that Haechan only had one hand above the table. Guess you found your perfect match in him, didn’t you? Lucky, since you’ve had that crush on him for so long.”

You sigh, tipping your head against the window. “He’s gross, Renjun. A real pervert.” You say those words as if they are compliments, as if you’re calling him dreamy, a real prince.

Renjun makes a noise on the other side of the car, and you’re not sure if it’s disgust or one of intrigue.

“I love it, honestly.” You twist your head to the side. Renjun’s profile is outlined by streetlights in pale amber. “We talked one night recently, and everything came out into the open. The things I’ve done, things he’s done. He’s so much worse than I am.”

Renjun tilts his head. “How? You were constantly begging me to fuck you somewhere public. How could he be worse than that?” He doesn’t say it with any vitriol, but rather like he’s teasing you. You know Renjun was just as eager to do everything as you were.

“He’s been watching people for a long time. I won’t give you all of the details, but did you know that when he went through your phone while we were all in Thailand, he sent himself videos from your camera roll?”

That makes Renjun’s head finally turn to look at you fully. Luckily you’re stopped at a red light already, so he runs no risk of rear-ending anyone. “He what?”

“It’s just one of the confessions he told me. He didn’t show me them, just told me about them.” You shiver a little with delight as you recall, “He told me that his favorite one is the first one we filmed together, me riding you in my car. And he doesn’t even know that it’s me; I haven’t told him that yet.” You laugh, resting your cheek again on the cool window. “He also said that he wasn’t asleep that final night in Thailand when we messed around right there beside him. He’s a little perv, Renjun, watching us and all of our friends too. It’s just… gross, but I can’t explain it. I like it.”

Now he laughs too. “You’re both gross. I should’ve known that about him. After he spent months crashing on our sofa at school because his roommate caught him being a chronic masturbator.” He shakes his head. “Maybe caught isn’t even the right word.”

You laugh too, but your mind is filled with the vivid imagery of the video Haechan had sent you earlier. His fingers wrapped around his cock. Cum dripping pearly white down his fingers. Your laugh tapers off into a sigh.

“I’m happy for you,” Renjun says after driving a few moments in silence. “For you and Haechan.”

“I’m not so sure there is a Me and Haechan yet. We just talked. We’ve kissed.” Your heart flutters in your chest, wishing you’d have kissed him goodnight. “He’s sent me a few videos, and we talk of course, and then there was tonight. But we haven’t, like, talked and we haven’t gone on a date or actually had sex. I want it to be a proper thing, not like what you and I did, and not like what Xiaojun and I did.”

“Trust me,” Renjun shares, “The way Haechan looks at you, the way he treats you… he likes you. Genuinely and completely, and both of you are fools if either of you let the other get away. I’ve known him longer than you, and I’ve never seen him the way he gets with you; and he’s been that way for a while now, honestly. When I talk with him, you always come up inevitably, in some way he always twists conversation to mention your name, to tell a funny story or to praise something that you did at work. And he’s always been, like, protective of you, whether you noticed it or not. I don’t think you need to worry about it not becoming a proper thing.”

When Renjun drops you off at your apartment door, you’re left with a lot more than just the car keys that he returns to you. Your mind and chest are buzzing thinking about what you’d talked about in the car.

You want to call Haechan as soon as you’re inside. You want to hear his voice. You want to tell him that you like him too, because it’s only now that you’ve been mulling over Renjun’s words that you remember that Haechan had confessed the night you first kissed. He’d whispered an “I like you” after you kissed on the street, and you’d been too busy reeling him back in for another kiss to tell him that you like him too.

You decide maybe you’re still a little tipsy, and maybe you should wait to call him and confess that you like him too until you’re in a clear state of mind.

So instead of calling him, you just send him the confirmation message that you got home safely.

And he calls you.

He’s still driving, returning the car to the parking garage at the office. You talk to him when he’s returning the car, when he’s riding the elevator up to the Moon Corporation’s offices, as he drops the key and the credit card off in Mr. Moon’s office. You keep talking, just keeping him company, as he leaves and rides a cab back to his place. You keep talking to him as you go through your bedtime routine — brushing your teeth, washing your face, using the toilet, changing out of your clothes.

“I’m home now.” Haechan yawns in your ear after a while. “It’s been a long day.”

“It’s been a long everything.” You sigh, sinking into your bed. “About earlier, at the restaurant….”

Haechan hums quietly on his end of the line, and you can hear him close a door, sit his phone down, and from the way sounds are more distant and slightly echoier, you assume he put you on speakerphone.

“I really enjoyed that.” You stare up at your ceiling, fighting the blush that rises to your cheeks, the heat that flares in your belly as you remember the feel of his fingers — Haechan’s fingers! — against your thighs and inside you, pulling you apart so easily.

“Me too,” he admits. “Though I would rather have had you spread out on that table so I could get a proper taste of you. The little licks I got off my fingers weren't enough.”

You have to bite back a whimper at the mental image he’s painted. “Haechan… I—I still haven’t gotten to touch you. Or taste you. I feel like I’m at a disadvantage again.”

His voice sounds distant from the phone when he says, “I guess we’d better remedy that, angel. But there’s one thing I need you to do for me before you can get a taste.”

“Hm?” Your heart is racing.

“Go on a date with me. A real date. Dinner and talking, maybe a movie. Dessert.” Haechan’s voice draws nearer again, and then suddenly you can tell he’s scooped his phone back up, that he’s holding it to his face. “I want to be wined and dined before you have your way with me, babe.”

That makes you laugh. But you quickly agree.

“A date. Name your time and place, Haechan.”

The smile in his voice is clear when he promises, “I’ll get back to you on that. Goodnight.”

You haven’t felt so giddy at the idea of a date in a long, long time. How are you meant to fall asleep right now?

“Goodnight, Lee Donghyuck.”

previous chapter || next chapter

a/n: not quite the full thing, but they've finally!! at last!! done something with each other! they're building up towards it lol which I'm sure is torture for all of you who've been dying for them to fuck, but it's coming! I swear!

#haechan #nct #haechan smut #nct smut #nct 127 #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #nct haechan #lee donghyuck #lee haechan #yima

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sabo-has-my-heart · 1 year ago

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Had this request in my mind for a while

What if sanji, law, sabo, corazon (separately) and their female s/o were on an island and just exploring it until they were ready to leave for the next one, they're just roaming around and seeing children and families around the place, but their s/o who gets a baby fever looking at them asks them about a baby. What would their reaction be?

Warnings: baby fever, suggestive

Word Count: 920

The island wasn’t anything particularly special, another stop before heading to the next one, but it would take some time to restock and reset, so the two of you had decided to wander around a little. Smiling and taking in the scenery, you leaned your head against your boyfriend’s shoulder. It was so nice here and the weather was perfect for simply enjoying yourselves. Reaching a small park, you smiled and looked around. It was a beautiful grassy area, perfect for a picnic and apparently a lot of other people thought so too. Dozens of picnic blankets lay scattered about, covered in various foods. Usually with at very least a mother or father sitting at them while watching their spouse and child running around. Some had the entire family eating, others were abandoned completely while both parents played with their children. Watching them, you couldn’t help but melt at the sight of the little ones playing around. They looked so cute, so happy, smiling and laughing as they played. An image formed in your mind, you and your beloved sitting on the grass, holding an infant in your arms while he wiped some mess off of his other child’s face.

“I want a baby.” you said softly, still staring at the children.

Sanji

The blond stared out at the families like you. A baby? A family? With you? He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of a family with you. Of how you’d look with your large, round stomach. Taking care of you 24/7. A child of his. Would they be blond like him? Have his eyebrows? Or would they look more like you? What would they be like?

“You… Want a baby?” he asked, looking at you, his mind running a mile a minute.

“Of course I do. Look at how happy they all are. Can you imagine our child? Oh, I want them to have your blond hair.” you said dreamily, imagining your child. Turning to your beloved boyfriend, you could see the gears turning in his head.

“In a year or two, okay? I promise, I’ll give you as many babies as you want.” he said after a moment, pulling you close and kissing you. You pouted a little but nodded. He was probably right about a year or two, now wasn’t the best time to have a child. Still, looking back at the families, you couldn’t help but want one even more.

Law

Law coughed, choking on his own spit as he looked at you wide eyed. A baby?! You wanted a child? Turning to him, you gave him a yearning look.

“Law, I want a baby. Please?” you asked, making him stare at you for a moment. A baby. You wanted. A baby?

“Absolutely not.” the man said, giving you a deadpan look, even as your eyes filled with sorrow, “We’re not ready for a child at the moment and children take a great deal of care.” he said, noticing the tears starting to gather in your eyes.

“Th-then not now! But one day?” you pleaded, making the man sigh.

“One day. Now let’s go.” Law took your hand, pulling you away. He’d better get you out of there before you decided to start going shopping for baby clothes.

Sabo

Chuckling, Sabo wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close.

“You want a baby?” he asked, his lips next to your ear, making you shudder.

“Of course I do. I want a baby that has your eyes, who loves freedom just as much as you. I want to start a family with you.” you said, managing to turn around in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. He pulled you into a kiss as he smirked. A family, huh? He hadn’t had good experiences with his parents, still, the idea of starting a family with you sounded kind of nice. That being said, he was a very wanted revolutionary, any child of his would be seen as a target. Something to be used against him.

“Once the RA has accomplished its goals. I don’t want anyone after you when you’re in such a vulnerable state.” he said sweetly, making your heart melt. He had a point, you’d be an easy target, “Why don’t we start practicing making one, though.” he whispered, running a single, gloved finger down your spine. Biting your lip, you nodded, taking his hand and running back towards the ship. You’d happily practice with him.

Corazon

His cigarette fell from his mouth, staring at you in shock.

“A WHAT?!” he shouted, only to have you slap your hands over his mouth as you looked around for any of the others. You couldn’t let them know he could talk.

“I said I want a baby. I want your baby.” you whispered, watching as he turned a bright, glowing pink. Hearing all of the noise die down, you knew he’d activated his devil fruit abilities, slowly pulling your hands from his mouth.

“I want a baby with you too! I want to start a family with you right now!” he shouted, picking you up and spinning you around. A family, his own family. He’d make sure to be a kind, loving father just like his had been. And you, you’d make the best mother! As soon as he stopped spinning he was picking you up, his powers falling as he raced back to the ship. He wanted to give you a child as soon as possible.

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pillow-anime-talk · 8 months ago

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Hiii! Can i request prompt 7 with Fyodor?

# tags: scenario; current relationship; light romance; fluff; ooc!fyodor; reader is a hacker; sfw

includes: gender neutral reader ft. fyodor dostoyevsky {bsd}

author’s note: hii! of course! i really like him!

7. “You’re so dumb!” “No? You’re dumb.”

There were nights during which Fyodor would stay up until dawn, looking for helpful tips, information and names to make his plan successful for him and his associates. Sometimes he sat until 1 a.m. with a cup of already chilled coffee, and sometimes he stared at the bright screen of the monitor until 8 a.m., with empty vitamin boxes or glasses of half-drunk red wine standing next to him. The mound of sweet candy wrappers was also an everyday sight...

In between all this, all this multitude of numbers, dates and words, there was you: in a warm sweater and fluffy socks, bringing him a nutritious snack from time to time (vegetable sandwiches or fried rice with eggs) or asking if everything was okay. Sometimes you would remind him to drink water or go to the bathroom, and when Fyodor actually agreed with you, he would quickly get up from his chair and go to do his physiological needs.

Then you would sit in his place, enter the appropriate code sequences, then return to the bedroom or living room (depending on the time on watch) and pass the dark-haired man, saying ‘Goodnight’ to him with a light smile or a fleeting kiss.

When Fyodor sat down on the black chair again and continued working, no more than five minutes passed, when various words, symbols or photos appeared on the screen that were an affirmation of him and your relationship; red hearts, photos of kittens touching noses... All this made the young man stunned, and after a while, also slightly amused. On the one hand, he was happy that you were a talented programmer, but on the other, it was his downfall when it was time to make fun of him.

The lines of code that corresponded to given inscriptions or images were deleted automatically, so nothing bad happened to your partner’s work, and you just continued to bury your face in the pillow with a slight smile or read the next page of your favorite book, having in mind the sight of Fyodor with slight blushes on the face.

Then, depending on the time and situation, Fyodor would text you saying “You’re so stupid!” to which you usually responded with a simple “No. You’re stupid. You don’t appreciate my advances...”

It all usually ended in quiet laughter or a war of nicknames and emojis.

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hotmessmaxpress · 9 months ago

Text

Rosquez OnlyFans AU part 7/?

Alexa play "mastermind"

oh also there's a little porn

Valentino Rossi started following you.

Marc stares at the notification for the fiftieth time since it appeared on his phone. He has no idea what to do with that. His DM is marked ‘seen,’ a fact that makes him want to punch Valentino directly in the mouth. Seen?

Still, following him on Instagram feels like a good start. Marc doesn’t post any onlyfans content on his Instagram because he mostly uses it for motorbike content, but he has occasionally posted a promo.

He decides he only has one option– if Vale is determined to not talk to him, Marc is going to persuade him.

He’s got to be a slut on Instagram.

It’s no secret that he works out, and he has occasionally posted pictures of his workouts. He doubles down on that, posting a reel the next day of himself working out, sweaty and shirtless.

“This is ridiculous,” Alex says, as Marc makes him delete a clip of him doing bicycle crunches and reshoot it.

“He followed me for a reason,” Marc insists. “I’m going to remind him what he is missing.”

Alex rolls his eyes.

That afternoon, Marc and Alex go for a trail ride and Marc makes a point of taking a selfie with him on his story. He makes sure to show the way his skintight riding top clings to his chest. When he checks later, he sees that Vale viewed the story. Success.

He posts a motorbike video the next day. It feels significant, posting a video of himself on the bike fully clothed but knowing Vale will be watching it.

It’s a video that he would normally post, pre-Vale. He and Alex have GoPros that they mount to their bikes, and they make clips of themselves riding along the roads of Madrid. This video is a short clip of himself climbing onto the bike and giving the camera a thumbs up, and then various shots of scenery from the front of his bike and a few shots facing him as he rides.

He’s fully covered, with his riding gear and helmet, but when he posts it it feels sexually charged.

Vale likes the video only minutes after it’s posted, and it feels like such relief and gratification that Marc can’t help but harden in his shorts. He makes sure his door is closed and pulls his cock out, stroking himself to full hardness for the first time alone since Vale blocked him. He’s obviously still managed to make content, but he hasn’t jerked off for himself in what feels like entirely too long.

He sets his phone down, closing his eyes and focusing on the feeling of his hand on his cock. He spits in his palm and grips himself.

He pictures Vale, and the way he touches himself. He wonders what it would be like if Vale were next to him. They wouldn’t even need to touch; he’d be fine just watching as Vale touches himself. He wants to know what the older man sounds like when he’s jerking off. Does he groan, or grunt, or keen? Does his breathing get ragged?

Marc wonders what it would like if Vale were fucking him. He pumps his cock hard, picturing Vale railing him from behind. He moans at the idea of Vale fucking into him, stretching him out. He contemplates taking out a toy to fuck himself on, but he doesn’t want to take his hand off his cock.

Instead he thinks about Vale again. He thinks about getting his mouth on Vale’s cock. He’d let Vale fuck his face, choking him. He’d beg Vale to let him taste his cum. He’d beg Vale to let him worship his cock, and he’d suck it long beyond when his jaw started to hurt.

His fantasy shifts, and he thinks about Vale sucking his cock.

That mental image throws him over the edge, and he comes hard, shooting up to his chest with a moan.

He contemplates sending a picture of his cum-covered abs to Vale, but doesn’t want his Instagram to get suspended. He’s got to play it cool. He doesn’t acknowledge Vale liking his post, and instead makes plans for how he can draw Vale out in other ways.

He posts a shirtless pool photo, where he’s wet and tan and smiling. In that post he also includes a few photos of the dogs, simply because he loves them and he sort of wants Vale to learn more about his life. He and Vale haven’t really talked much about their personal lives, which in hindsight is explained by Vale not wanting him to know his identity. His Instagram is a new opportunity to show Vale who he is aside from just a pornstar who is foaming at the mouth to suck his dick.

He posts a story of Shira snoozing on his chest later that afternoon, and he Vale likes the story. His heart pounds so hard at the sight of it that she gets up and moves.

The following day he posts something that he hopes will force Vale into making a move. It’s him, shirtless, working out in the ugliest shorts he’s ever owned. They’re too tight because he bought them as a teenager, and he’s surprised he even managed to dig them out of storage. They’re short, bright yellow, and have THE DOCTOR printed along the butt in Vale’s signature font.

He doesn’t acknowledge the shorts at all, simply posts the video as if it’s a regular workout video.

Vale likes it within seconds, and Marc can feel his heart in his chest.

Please talk to me, he messages. I just want to know what I did wrong.

Vale reads it and doesn’t respond. Marc’s heart sinks in his chest, and he can feel tears well in his eyes. He just wants Valentino to acknowledge him.

I’m sorry you were removed from the paddock, is the message that lands in his DM’s in the middle of the night.

He sees it when he wakes up and his heart jumps into his throat.

Then why did you have us kicked out? I just wanted to see you, he adds. I didn’t know what else to do.

He sees as the message switches to “seen”, and he has to put his phone down and take several deep breaths.

I didn’t know Uccio was doing that. He thought you were stalking me.

Marc snorts. He sort of was. Fuck whoever Uccio is, though. And how did he even know who Marc was?

Why did you block me?

He takes several more deep breaths as he waits for Vale to respond. He forces himself to get up and walk downstairs. Alex and the sausage dogs are already up, so he plops himself on the couch and shoves himself into Alex’s personal space.

“Vale is messaging me,” he croaks, and Alex peers over his shoulder.

“What?”

Marc shows him the messages, and manhandles Shira onto his lap so he can kiss and pet her to alleviate his anxiety.

Uccio did. I had to. It’s not good for you to know who I am.

Marc frowns.

Why, because I do OF? That’s not fair.

“That’s bullshit,” Alex says, over his shoulder.

“He followed me on OnlyFans,” Marc says unhappily. “He can’t use that as a reason to act like I’m a bad person.”

I sent you pictures of my cock, Marc. What if you shared them?

Marc stares at the message.

“Oh,” he says, flatly.

I wouldn’t do that.

I couldn’t know that for sure, Vale says.

You know that now, Marc shoots back.

Vale types, then stops, then starts again.

I want to trust you.

Marc honest-to-god squeals. Alex shoves him, and Shira startles on his lap.

“He’s in love with me,” Marc announces.

“No, he’s not,” Alex replies immediately. “He just saw the outline of your dick in those tiny shorts and missed seeing it.”

Marc turns to glare at him. “Fuck off.”

“I’m just saying,” Alex says. “Claiming he’s in love with you may be moving a little fast. I don’t want you to be disappointed again.”

Marc sighs.

“Just talking to him is good enough.”

Now that the door has been opened, Marc and Vale talk constantly. They talk about bikes, and when Vale asks him how he knows so much, Marc sheepishly tells him about how he was nearly professional before he destroyed his arm. He tells him how it still hurts sometimes but it’s not enough to make him not ride.

He talks about riding with Alex and how if he can’t ride professionally getting to ride with his brother is the next best thing.

Vale talks about his own brother, and how proud he is of the boys that he trains at his ranch. He talks about retiring one day, and how he wants to sit back and watch his academy boys win.

Send me pictures, Marc requests, one day when Vale mentions riding at the ranch. I want to know what it’s like. It sounds like a dream.

He is startled by Vale’s response.

You should come.

To Tavullia. Come ride with me.

#i'm not saying they fuck in the next part but i'm not saying they don't #onlyfans au #mm93 #vr46

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jhopezwrld · 1 year ago

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omg can i request an ateez or stray kids reaction to finding out their s/o having nipple piercings 🤭🤭🤭 i’m giggling

oh i hear sum purring…. IM DOING BOTH CUS IM A SLUTTTTT🫶🏽 ateez next hehe

warnings: smutty, mentions of consensual recording/picture taking, sorta pervy!changbin

chan: oh the minute he sees them he’s busting in his pants like he’d be so obsessed with them i just know it. he’d immediately ask if he could touch them and when you give him permission just know his hands (and his mouth) will not leave your tits alone until you physically cannot take it anymore. he’d also very hesitantly ask if you’d let him take a picture of them so he could look back on it every time he’s away from you. plz do him one better and let him cum on them and record it he would probably die of happiness. your nipple piercings are now his number one obsession.

minho: oh i just know he’s planning on how he’s gonna buy u all kinds of pretty and sparkly nipple rings so that he can admire how pretty they look while he tit fucks you bc there’s no way that ISNT happening. he’s probably gonna sit u in his lap and just play with them cus he’s meanie and a tease but also bc he’s so infatuated with them. he will never leave them alone honestly he’s so obsessed with them he’d probably accidentally (or not so accidentally) tell the boys ab them and now everyone knows u got pierced nips and jeongin can’t even look you in the eyes 😭

changbin: binnie is already such a simp for u but once he sees ur piercings he probably falls a little more in love with u i’m not even joking. i just know he’d be OBSESSED with them and would think ab them 24/7. he’d always try to convince you to go braless just so he can admire how pretty the rings look thru ur shirt. he’d probably keep it super cold in his room just so ur nipples are constantly poking out of ur shirt and he can just..stare at them. sorry idc changbin is an undercover pervert like he won’t say anything to u and will try to hide his nasty intentions but is secretly getting off on how oblivious you seem

hyunjin: loves them but is lowkey mad u didn’t tell him when u got them done bc he probably would’ve gone with u to get one too LMAO. he’d 100% wanna draw you nude as soon as he sees them tho like he just thinks they look so pretty on u and that u look so perfect and he just needs to sketch you so he can memorialize the image forever. i lowkey see him just playing with them casually too like he’d 100% stick his hand down ur shirt to wiggle the little bar or twist your ring in circles during a movie night or something (it always leads to sex btw).

jisung: boy would be in disbelief. he’s the ‘pics or it didn’t happen’ kinda mf but if u actually send him a picture oh he’s freaking OUT! immediately removing himself from whatever area he’s in so he can go into the bathroom and jerk off real quick. i feel like jisung is so easy to rile up so probable just the mere thought of you + nipple piercings has him shifting around uncomfortably and adjusting himself in his pants. he’d fly home as soon as he could and just pounce on u. like he’d literally yank you into his lap and pull your shirt down to see them. as soon as he gets his hands/mouth on them i’m like 90% sure he cums in his pants

felix: he’s so sweet about it omg. as soon as he finds out he’s asking u all kinds of questions like ‘did it hurt?’ ‘are they healed’ or ‘did you get both or just one?’. felix is a shy bby so he probably won’t ask to see them himself but the way his eyes keep flicking from your face to your chest makes it so obvious so plz just lift up ur shirt for him. he’d be in AWE like almost drooling type shit. he’d also be too nervous to touch them himself so you’d either have to reassure him that it’s ok and he can cop a feel, or you’d have to physically grab his hands and put them on your tits. he’d be so gentle while touching them and would probably try to hide his boner but his lil whines make it pretty clear how he’s feeling.

seungmin: he’s so annoying he’d probably try to act so nonchalant ab it. ‘oh u got ur nipples pierced? cool.’ but on the inside he’d be freaking out. he wouldn’t ask to see them not bc he’s shy but bc he doesn’t want u to know he’s extremely excited ab this so he’ll wait for u to show him urself but once u do hoooooo boy he’s going to TOWN on u so prepare urself. dom seungmin mode activated u are not leaving that bed for days i’m telling u. he’s trying all types of positions so he can see how pretty they sparkle in the light while he fucks you. when you get a package in the mail with like 10 different kinds of nipple rings don’t look at seungmin bc it definitely wasn’t him (it was)

jeongin: went back & forth on this one but honestly i think he'd be so nervous about even looking at them. he only noticed because it was particularly cold in his dorm and you had decided to forgo a bra since you were spending the night. he doesn't even know how to react when he realizes, but the crimson blush creeping up his neck and cheeks, and the fact that he cannot look at your face make it pretty clear that he noticed them. i feel like innie is so shy when it comes to anything remotely sexual so do not expect him to be the first to mention your piercings. instead he will silently suffer and would probably go to bed with a boner unless you help him out (plz help him he's so hard its painful).

#my writing #jhopezwrld #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #skz smut #bang chan smut #lee Minho smut #seo changbin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #han jisung smut #lee felix smut #Kim seungmin smut #yang jeongin smut #stray kids fanfic

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blissfulip · 11 months ago

Text

Dopamine

on AO3

Viktor x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, idiots in love (?) dubious science, mostly canon compliant, no use of y/n, chemist!reader, eventual smut, masturbation, angry sex, unprotected sex,

Cw: mentions of alcohol consumption, creepy dude being creepy, bood.

Words: 2.1k

[A/N: tags and content warnings to be updated in each chapter, updates weekly(ish). (also, let me know if you want to be tagged in fic updates!)]

Tags: @ihopeinevergetsoberr @chemical-killjoy @jinxed-jk @bobobomao @queen-of-elves

Previous Next

Chapter 7: Mixer

You liked the academy’s dormitories because they were spacious and old (the room had belonged to someone before you and someone before them, and so on for hundreds of years). You had come to believe each room could fit two people comfortably, but in the empty yet thorny air between you and Viktor, lying side by side, you began to second-guess this. The once-springy, commodious mattress now felt sticky and narrow for the two of you.

The high lasted less than it normally does when you are on your own, perhaps on account of your sudden strong self-awareness of the circumstances, or it could have been the contention between the person you had been for the past hour an hour has passed? Felt like 15 minutes... and the person you had tried to appear as on any regular basis. The vulnerable versus the impervious, or is it persona and shadow?

It doesn't quite matter now; I have to say something and come out on top—no, not like that.

“We still have two pages to edit.” Your voice came out timid and craven, and you dared to turn your head to look at him. The picture of his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling and his chest heaving up and down suggested his feelings of regret were probably akin to yours.

“Three, in fact. I wasn’t able to finish before, eh, this.”

You adjusted your underwear, pulled your dress down with the swiftness of someone who has not a care in the world or wanted to appear as such, and bounced up to a sitting position, giving the bed under you a small slap with each hand.

“Let’s get to work then.” You did not wait or turn around to observe Viktor’s take on this little parade of pudor, but assumed it went something along the same line. You handed him his cane from where it had fallen on the floor and sat on one of the chairs, all of this done while painfully trying to avoid each other’s gaze.

Naturally, once the work had been revised and you had agreed to each do half of the speech, you picked up your belongings and unceremoniously left his dorm to go to your own. How strange it was that the anxious worry of giving not one but one and a half presentations for a full audience was nowhere in your tired mind, and that the single object of your musings when you plopped on your bed was the image of his eyes enraptured by you and how you’d cover the two bruised bite marks on your neck that the academy uniform wouldn’t hide.

Your eyes closed sluggishly, and you dreamt of amber and violet.

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

“A turtleneck? I know it’s chilly in this auditorium, but isn’t that a bit overkill?”

“I have to protect my voice.” You answered Lara, looking her straight in the eyes. This is something you were good at, technically, lying through your teeth without showing any semblance of discomfort. Unfortunately for you, she knew (or rather, by then, only suspected) too much, and nothing could have prepared you for how quick her hands would be at pulling down your collar to reveal what she expected to find imprinted on your neck.

Her eyes grew wide.

“And what about it? Can’t a girl have fun the night before a stressful day?” You tried to keep that mask of nonchalance you’d been trying to carry around, and you hoped she had forgotten who you were supposed to be with the previous night.

“I thought you said you weren’t together?” She got closer to you and did her best to whisper, but the animation in her voice was giving away so much information that you were glad there was no one around to pick it up.

“With whom?”

“Stop that; I know you two spent the afternoon together!”

You let out a sigh of resignation.

“And we are in fact not together; it was simply a lapse in judgment that neither of us wants to remember or talk about.”

Whatever Lara intended to say was lost to history the moment she saw Viktor enter the backstage area. The mix of your panicked expression and Lara’s hungry-for-information face made his shoulders cringe almost all the way up to his ears. You had to let out a chuckle at the sight of him immediately turning on his heel and walking away.

"I can't believe that guy is the same one who did all that to your neck.”

“Please never say that again.”

Lara chuckled through her teeth before giving you a smug look and leaving for her own venue. Without Cirian there, the backstage area was exclusively for you and Viktor, perchance only you if he had decided to forgo his spot on the schedule and move back to the undercity, or maybe quit the academy and jump off a bridge. Maybe I’m projecting.

Soon enough, you could hear Jayce’s booming voice coming from outside the door and getting nearer. You oscilated between relief and dread for about 30 more seconds before Viktor and him came waltzing into the room. He hugged you, and you talked. It was casual and comfortable to see your friend again, but Viktor’s looming presence as he stood slightly behind him like a kid waiting for his mom to finish catching up with an acquaintance at the market shortly became too much to ignore.

“You should sit; we will probably stand for over an hour when it starts.” You told Viktor as you walked to grab one of the folding chairs you had found in the other room and handed it to him. He took it from you with a stiff ‘thank you’ and sat on it in silence. Jayce took notice of the awkward tension and looked back and forth between you with an eyebrow raised before asking.

“What did I miss?"

“Hm?”

“What is going on here?”

“What are you talking about?” Viktor asked.

“I fully expected you two to be all over each other."

Your mouth went dry, and you heard Viktor choking up.

“What?” You managed to cry out shyly.

“You know, you’re always fighting, and I haven’t heard a single insult from either of you yet.”

“Our minds are probably preoccupied with, eh, the presentations.” Viktor interjected, and this sounded plausible enough to make you lose some tension.

Jayce didn’t seem to fully believe it, though; his choice of words earlier hadn’t been intentional, but your reaction to it seemed rather disproportionate, so he kept this on the backburner until he could bring it up again.

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

The conference itself went without a hitch, and you were both showered with praise in the aftermath by all the students and academics in attendance alike. And although you generally abhorred being the center of attention to this extent, this came as a welcomed distraction from everything else you had in mind.

You were more than ready to go home and take a bath, but a small mixer was going to take place at the academy for the teachers, academics, and faculty members. Somehow Lara, Jayce, and Moira—who had been nice enough to show up to your presentation—collectively managed to drag you and Viktor along.

No drinking for me tonight. You thought, not after...

Among the noise and the scent of liquor and the faraway attempts at conversation from myriads of unknown people, both happy and not, the lack of sleep and sore leg muscles were starting to catch up with you.

Somewhere on your way to the velvet-red sofa were Lara and Cirian, having a conversation that seemed way too animated for someone who claimed to have been near a bittersweet passing that very morning. You pondered going over to him and questioning him; after all, he was to blame for the way Viktor’s hands fit so tightly on your waist. He was to blame, for sure, but you couldn’t possibly say anything, at least not without hinting at the serpentine paths you had dug into Viktor’s back, so you sat on the couch and people-watched.

It was so bizarre to see the members of the council at an event like this, but you figured Heimerdinger probably had a (tiny) hand on that, and he had probably taken all the praise for the conference that they might have had to offer, so you did not have to worry about interacting with any of them. Jayce certainly didn’t seem intimidated, at least not by Councilor Medarda.

You sat there and watched as he turned to talk to her when she approached him. You saw his hand slither up her back, and you saw them walking away, leaving a lonely Viktor standing there, an eye roll and sour expression parading through his face in quick succession. You figured he would take this opportunity to leave, and he in fact started to do just that, scanning the room for the exit, when he was intercepted by that sweet intern that always followed them around.

Sky was quiet, at least around you. You suspected the cold looks she gave you sometimes were due to your usual jabs at her boss (friend?) in her presence, and you understood that; you accepted it even and always tried to be as nice as possible to her. The taste of bile in your mouth when Viktor inconspicuously put a hand on her shoulder was a response you did not prepare yourself for.

For a short second, you tried to give yourself validation. You thought about all the times she had ignored you when you greeted her at the lab and felt valiantly justified, Then you almost fell victim to the impulse to walk over and ‘accidentally’ knock her over. You were quick to sallow the venom and figuratively shake yourself off your high horse; there was no valid reason for you to suddenly be so vile towards someone you had barely ever spoken to, all because—all because Viktor touched her affectionately.

You had no time to feel sick, even though your body certainly gave you the cues that it was going to, because you felt the weight of someone sitting next to you on the sofa. Asher put one arm around your shoulders and leaned over to your ear to say something.

“I heard you did amazingly today."

“Thank you.” You responded incisively as you took his arm and untangled yourself from it.

“I’m more impressed at how you were able to do any work with that dunce.”

“Viktor?”

“Yeah, he looks like he’s a complete idiot; I'm not sure how he managed to convince the Academy that he wasn’t a complete fraud.” He said, giving you a small nudge on the arm.

“You expect me to agree with that?” You asked after a prolonged silence.

“Well, yes, you must know that better than anyone, given how much you two dislike each other.”

“I don’t dislike him because I think he’s a fraud; he is clearly one of the most brilliant people in Piltover.”

“You can’t be seriously defending him.”

“I’m not ‘defending him'; I’m simply not blind enough to affirm that he is not intelligent.”

“I thought you hated him.”

“I do, just not for that reason!” You started to raise your voice in exasperation.

“Then why?”

“Because he—” You started, and soon noticed you couldn’t think of why with as much ease as you did in the past. “Why do you care so much?”

You said that and excused yourself to run to the bathroom. Once there, you closed the door and didn’t bother to lock it, quickly opening the faucet to splash some water on your face. You gave it more thought and repeated it to yourself like a mantra.

He’s arrogant and impatient, and he only cares about himself and his work. He's the academy’s perfect boy, hogging all the resources, and he’s uptight and...

Well, it wasn’t really his fault that the academy neglected everyone else, and his dedication to his work was admirable. You leaned on the sink with both hands, looking at yourself in the mirror as you mumbled.

Arrogant, impatient, and uptight. No, definitely not uptight.

More memories from the night before flashed through your mind, your hands trailing the seam of the turtleneck you were wearing.

He is arrogant and impatient; that is a fact.

Another splash of water, and you were feeling better, but although you had one hand on the door handle, it burst open without you turning it. You were faced with Viktor’s tall figure blocking your way out, and though you were ready to tell him how ‘impatient and arrogant’ you had concluded he was, the copious amounts of blood trickling down his nose and mouth deterred your attention from that.

#viktor #viktor x reader #arcane viktor #viktor arcane #arcane #arcane fanfic #viktor fanfic

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amywritesthings · 2 years ago

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SEEING YOU, SEEING ME (5/7)

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: After handling a life-or-death favor for Tess, you’re in deep shit. Until she can make things right, she suggests you lay low at her place for the week. The issue? It’s also Joel Miller’s place, and you’re pretty sure he hates you.

Warnings: SMUT! 18+! No Minors! Pre-TLOU, One Bed Trope, Masturbation, Guided Masturbation, Orgasms (2), Sexual Tension, Dirty talk, Pet names, Touch Starved!Joel, Age gap/difference, Slow burn, Semi-Enemies to Fuckers

( Read on AO3 )

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter | Masterlist

CHAPTER 5: IN THE AIR TONIGHT

Hours later, you’re still awake.

By the sound of dying Fedra truck tires in the distance, the quarantine zone is not. It's quiet in the whistle of the wind. Dead to the world. Peaceful.

However, your mind won't allow you a modicum of the same. Not as you sit against the wall, legs outstretched with crossed ankles on the mattress. Your arms wrap around your torso, fists tightening every several minutes just to bring you back from the broken record images playing in your mind.

What once was a single now becomes a record of snapshots: Joel leaning with his forearm against the archway. Joel sitting with legs spread at his dining table.

Joel standing, staring, with such a dark intensity that it's now properly burned to the back of your skull.

Your hands clench again, remembering how he did the same when you said it’d been a long time since you had anyone.

He was so close. You could practically feel the tickle of his mustache on your lips.

He took the first touch. He made the first step.

Now he was further than ever.

Why did it matter? This entire operation — this life-saving favor — was supposed to be a few days of laying low while Tess handled the logistics of what it would take for Boston QZ to be a civil circle of neutrality once again among thieves. It just so happened that Tess lived with Joel Miller, and Joel Miller was going to be another body in a long line of survivors trying to get by.

Joel was never going to see you like you saw him.

He was merely a man who worked the same lousy, high-paying jobs as you. Lines were blurred, but that only made the future worse.

You said it wasn’t in the cards to date or find a comfortable life here or be anything beyond a feeling.

You didn’t realize wanting to hurt spoke to Joel because he was dying to hurt, too.

A noise floats through the apartment.

You pause in your thoughts, sitting up straighter with your shoulders squaring in mild alarm.

A beat passes.

The world around you is silent.

Then you hear the same quiet, strangled sound coming from the other room once more.

Without leaving the bed, you listen to hone in on its location: there. Towards the living room wall where the couch lay. Your gaze drops to the bottom right corner of the wall, waiting to register what it might be.

The strangled sound returns, except this time it sounds suppressed. Lodged in a throat.

It's accompanied by something rhythmic.

Something wet.

A bone-chilling cold passes through your body in one-fell swoop when you realize:

It’s Joel.

It’s Joel and he’s jerking off on the couch.

Every muscle in your body freezes, afraid that the older man could catch on that you've heard. If you move, then you may not be able to take the point of no return back. If you speak, then he may never look at you again.

Joel Miller, in your life and gone just as fast.

So you do something else in the night, in the quiet.

Slowly your hand glides along the sheet and smooths along your hip, to the button of your jeans. Your thumb pops it open, exposing the waistband of your dark underwear beneath.

(If you want to regret something, then it won’t be this.)

There is another low sound from the other room — a shudder of a breath, which only sets your blood aflame — that confirms what you’re hearing.

Without another thought, your hand slips under the fabric to find you’re already wet. Soundlessly you whimper, jaw shaking as you set in a slowed circle to test the waters. Your ears are trained on the sound in the other room, overly aroused by your own imagination:

Joel lying back on the couch with his arm thrown over his eyes. A fist clenched tight to keep some semblance of control. His hand wrapped around his cock, pumping with urgency to get this done and over with before you wake up.

You can just imagine his denim shirt raised up and over his belly just in case he comes too fast.

Your hand moves faster.

It’s taking everything in you to be quiet.

The happy trail drawing from his belly button to his cock. The scars you could memorize with your lips. His hand in your hair to keep you trapped there on your knees.

And you don’t mean to.

You don’t mean to moan, but it slips faster than you can hold it in.

Instantly the noises stop from the other room.

Besides the rustling of your hand in your pants, the apartment is silent.

Shit.

You stop despite the cresting orgasm, jaw set tight.

Then a voice speaks from the other room, husky and out of breath:

“Go slower.”

You don’t breathe.

Can’t, not when you’re grappling with the fact that yes, that’s Joel Miller talking in the dark and yes, he’s very aware of what you’re doing in his home, in his bed, and his first thought isn’t to chastise you for depravity.

Maybe he’s talking to himself.

Maybe he’s doing this in his sleep and you’re just privy to hearing about it by mistake.

Then he speaks again, and you could cum on the spot.

“Did I say you could stop?”

Lips parted and dry, you stare wide-eyed at the ceiling.

Against your better judgment you respond, quiet and meek.

“No.”

“Then what’re you doing?”

Swallowing thickly, you edge your fingers back under the waistband of your underwear.

“Going slow,” you shakily answer the disembodied demands of Joel Miller, eager to please despite the agony that comes with resuming lazy circles around your clit.

You need relief.

(You need to understand what the fuck is happening right now.)

“Good," he responds, words drunken with a southern drawl. "And you keep going slow no matter how bad you wanna speed up, is that understood?”

You don't know how to respond. Between the whiplash of what he left you with and where you're at now, you feel like you're going out of your mind.

"You gonna listen?" he repeats when you don't immediately answer his request.

No, his demand.

(Holy shit.)

“I told you that I — listened earlier,” you say in a hiccup of a gasp when that electric spark returns, "didn’t I? Of course I'll be good for you.”

Joel returns the sentiment with an appreciative groan, and your head lulls towards the wall as if you’ll be able to see straight through it.

(You want to see him so badly.)

Speaking up, talking back, takes a leap of courage, but you run the mile anyway. “...are you going slow, too?”

Because you know.

Joel must know that you know. That you've heard him pleasuring himself despite being only a mere few feet from you.

(That you’re only doing this because you heard him first.)

“Real slow,” he answers with a vulnerable honesty that surprises you, under his breath and softer than expected.

It takes everything within you not to speed up; not without his command. “Is this — Is this payback for the drinking game?”

The idea makes him chuckle on the other side of the wall, but it sharpens in a shaken gasp of his own.

“Not payback, darlin’.”

The rogue use of a pet name almost — almost — makes you beg, but you lick the seam of your lips and find your center to reply.

“It sure feels like it.”

The audacity is that your annoyed reply makes him hum in amusement. Then he speaks again, and all bets are off.

“What if I let you go faster? Would that make you feel better?”

“Jesus Christ, Miller.”

What changed between his cold rejection a mere few hours ago and now? Why was he so willing to bend the rules, change the game, without so much as looking at you?

Then you realize:

It’s easier not to see.

Two people in the same home in two separate rooms is much less intimate than the real deal. Earlier wasn’t an outright rejection, but a test of faith.

Nothing about this will be soft, or kind.

(Or real.)

“It would,” you answer after thickly swallowing, the ache between your legs becoming too much.

“Good,” Joel replies from the couch. “You only get what I’m willing to give, and m’feeling generous.”

You exhale heavily in relief as your fingers quicken their pace on your clit, satisfied to finally feel the familiar waves in your lower belly. Joel must have sped up on his own accord as well, because you hear his breathy grunts labor with an urgency parallel to your own.

This is really happening.

You feel delirious yet blissful all the same.

There is so much you want to say. So much to ask. So much you want to hear, see, taste.

(Alive; this is what it must mean to feel alive.)

“Miller—”

“Joel.”

The interruption of your whimper causes you to turn your gaze once more to the wall as if he'll be standing there. He isn't.

“What?”

“Joel,” he demands from the couch, interrupting what little control you had in this situation. “You say my name when you cum, y’hear?”

“Fuck—”

“Are you close?”

“Yes.”

“Then say it.”

“Joel,” you moan on command without hesitation, louder than intended. “Jesus, fuck, Joel, I’m so fucking cl—”

You tense at an explosion of an orgasm. Stars blind your eyes as you squeeze them shut and ride out the tumultuous waves, bucking into your hand. Every sensation is intense — the fact that Joel can hear every little whine of his name on your tongue is too much — but it’s too late to go back.

Especially when he follows you over the edge.

Joel Miller sounds positively sinful when he comes. Abandoned yet full of control, his labored breathing halts in a groan, but not without a bitten attempt at your name.

The sounds simmer, dying off to a sigh of relief — then nothing.

Silence.

Once more dissolving to only just the wind in the air tonight.

You remain in his bed, breathing heavily up at the ceiling with your hand still in your underwear. What feels like hours pass where you wait for him to walk around the wall, to leave all caution to the wind, but he doesn’t.

In the afterglow, he says nothing.

He never leaves the couch, so you never leave his bed.

He asked, so you listen.

You listen and never leave his bed and eventually drift to a peaceful sleep.

Author's Note: Maybe I was too on-the-nose with the song choice this chapter, lol.

Feeling refreshed and excited after my mini-hiatus! I truly appreciate all of the support on this fic. Just… wow. I am such a lucky author, I really am. Thanks again for reading.

#joel miller x you #joel miller #the last of us #tlou spoilers #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller imagine #the last of us spoilers #the last of us fanfiction #tlou #tlou fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #amywritesthings #fic: seeing you seeing me

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fairybinie · 2 years ago

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KISS, DON’T TELL — 15: if's and when's

synopsis: popular and menacingly wicked choi beomgyu has the entire senior class wrapped around his finger. the high school drama club has cherished y/n as their veteran for four years. to fulfill beomgyu’s graduation requirements, he must join y/n’s drama club despite his grudges. unbeknownst to everyone else, y/n and beomgyu have their history. they’ve kissed before (or more like y/n has bitten his lip to bleed) and beomgyu hasn’t lived it down ever since. y/n cannot stand this guy. they can make it through the entire year as the leads in their play, right?

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a/n: written (3.8k) + smau. mentions of kissing, nothing else i can see! so sorry for the wait i hope this was worth it 😔

...

but good to know :D

really y/n?

y/n could have chosen to ignore the last few messages of his remorse and just told him them were on their way. they also could have chosen to ignore that beomgyu can actually bring a smile to their face and their limited interactions have been replaying in their head since they have occurred. it’s hard to ignore a feeling like that.

texting beomgyu these past days and observing him in class has led y/n to believe that maybe there is more to him than what he is displaying. it’s no doubt that he keeps up an image for everyone else to believe and roll with, hell, even idolize with. y/n knew that already, but they weren’t sure if there was anything below the surface. did he even have a personality besides the obnoxious one that was 24/7? the fact that he seemed to be sorrowful about his comments just now might insinuate that he has a conscious. sure, it wasn’t there before. perhaps something shifted in the boy recently. why?

come to think of it, y/n really doesn't know anything about this guy. he plays guitar, that’s something, right? does beomgyu want to become a musician despite being stern about the fact that he doesn’t have a passion? he has to have one.

questions, questions, questions that y/n is hoping to get answers to.

most of all, why is he still hung up on the shared kiss that happened four years ago?

choi beomgyu intrigues them, whether they would like to admit it or not.

“y/n! hello?”

y/n shudders away their thoughts and stares blankly at the red light in front of them. their hands grip tightly around the dark leather material around their steering wheel as they glance at their car radio. an ongoing call with their friends that has lasted fifteen minutes.

y/n reaches for their temple as they begin to mindlessly rub circles, waiting for the light to turn green. they kept their word to soobin’s request to call them when they were heading to beomgyu’s house.

“sorry, what happened?”

someone groans in response, y/n’s guess is eliana. her groans were engrained in their head as they were always the receiving end to them.

“we were talking about going to disneyland during winter break,” eliana reminds with no distinction in her voice.

yes, disneyland. of course. y/n readjusts themselves to the mood and the light changes as they do, stepping their foot on the gas pedal.

“right- yeah, i’m on board-”

a howl cuts y/n off mid sentence as each speaker in the vehicle blasts with each rhythm of laughter, that of which belongs to kai. y/n is taken aback momentarily, but it soon hits them that was not the topic of conversation.

“can we actually go, though?” kai genuinely asks once he pulls himself together. soobin agreeingly replies with instinct to satisfy kai in the moment.

“you’re not paying attention,” eliana points out to y/n, seeing right through them despite not being in the car with them. “what’s up, babe?”

y/n makes a U-turn once they realize that they missed the correct street. “sorry guys, i was distracted.”

“y/n, you don’t have to go if you’re not comfortable,” soobin advises which brings a slight smile to y/n’s face. soobin was always protective over them and the whole group appreciated him for it, even if it could be overbearing at times.

“no no, it’s not that,” y/n reassures as they look at their phone mounted on the dashboard to check if this is the right corner to make a turn.

“then what is it?” kai asks with some concern in his voice. being the youngest in the group has always made him worry for his older friends. he was a perfect little brother.

“nothing! trust me,” y/n barely tries to sound convincing. the group looks it over this one time considering that y/n is driving. it would be understandable if their attention wasn’t fully there.

y/n ends the gps navigation as they push the center console to park. “i’m here.”

they haven’t been to beomgyu’s house in years, not since the incident occurred. frankly, the trauma it induced for them made them forget the details of the inside. the patio outside reminisces the other houses in this neighborhood. though it’s dark outside, the beaming stars in the night sky highlight the string of florescent lights that shape the doorway in the front. it’s a nice touch, they remember it made them feel comfortable coming in last time.

“it’s not too late to back out,” soobin says one last time. he’s still nervous for his best friend.

“i’ll be fine soobin,” y/n replies before he continues to go on. they stare at the home and release a whisper. “i hope.”

“okay, well, text us right after,” eliana cautions, bringing out her inner mother role.

a swarm of goodbyes and love you’s were exchanged before the call was ended. y/n detaches their phone from the dashboard and gathers their essentials and soon exit the vehicle. they give their car a lock as they head towards the doorway. each footstep is light, but tense. it’s until now that they see some bear stickers on the door and they can’t help but admire the cuteness. they wonder if that was a recent addition as it wasn’t there the last time.

with a big inhale, they ring the doorbell.

there was a moment of waiting and y/n contemplated ringing it one more time. they remember what eliana said about coming across as desperate, but they never cared about that prior to this. in all honesty, they needed to rely on beomgyu. he was their co-star after all.

why do they now feel this twisting feeling inside their stomach at the thought of being desperate?

y/n hears footsteps approach the door and they straighten their sweater to prepare. they’re wearing a simple white t-shirt that hugs their figure just right with a light blue hooded sweater, courtesy of kai. his clothes were always the comfiest and y/n made it a habit to search through his closet every time they come over. soobin gets slightly pouty at the thought. y/n doesn’t know if it’s because they borrow kai’s clothes, or if he wants to borrow them. the thought makes them chuckle.

fresh conditioned air blows right at y/n’s face as the door opens and the boy stands at the other end. he’s wearing brown plaid pajama bottoms topped with a beige crewneck with a teddy bear in the right corner. that little detail makes y/n think the decor on the door was intentional. a hint of softness makes some way into their heart. they fight the urge to smile.

“hey,” beomgyu greets with a downwards smile. “did you make it over here safe?”

beomgyu’s voice has a naturally tired tone to it. even if he’s not sleepy it always sounds casual and lustful. y/n doesn’t know if it’s always been like this or if they just noticed.

he’s also asking about their safety. who is this guy?

“um, yeah,” y/n replies as they rock their feet back and forth. beomgyu nods and realizes that he has to let them inside so he opens the door all the way and reaches his arm out to gesture the inside. y/n takes the offer.

with each step y/n observes the house as much as they can. it has been a while since they’ve been here but as far as they remember, not much has changed. some furniture has been rearranged and some new decor here and there, but it’s still very much beomgyu’s home. the interior has black and brown elements which gives it a homey feeling. it’s like if autumn and hot chocolate was a home.

just like he said, he did have the house to himself. beomgyu leads them to the kitchen and y/n sees a few family photos plastered on the fridge door. some were just of his parents, others were baby pictures of beomgyu. it seems like he’s always been on the devious side after catching a glance of a young boy pointing a toy gun at the camera with no thought behind his eyes.

y/n glimpses at a group photo with beomgyu, his parents, and an older child. they were posing in front of an amusement park with big grins on their faces. y/n has never seen this other boy before, perhaps it was beomgyu’s brother.

y/n shifts their gaze over to the kitchen counter and sees two bowls of ramen sitting in the center. guess he was being serious about providing them with food. they were starving though.

“i don’t know how you usually eat yours so i just put my fixings on,” beomgyu speaks slightly embarrassed. y/n eyes the bowl a little longer than they intended. they were just trying to piece together why on earth he would make them food.

“relax, i didn’t poison it or anything,” beomgyu jokes while holding the soup in his hands, digging into his first bite with his chopsticks. the idea did cross y/n’s mind, which makes them feel a bit apologetic.

is that how bad they see him?

y/n slowly walks over to the aisle and joins beomgyu. “do you want to work here?”

“we could go to my room,” beomgyu suggests as his eyes hide behind his bowl while he slurps some broth. there was no hint of anything sinister in beomgyu’s voice but the statement still makes y/n’s eyes widen.

“no,” they simply respond faster than they wished. they walk around the counter and sit in one of the spinning chairs where their bowl lays out in front of them. “right here is fine.”

beomgyu shrugs his shoulders and sits down next to them. y/n reaches to their tote bag and pulls out the lengthy script which has notes sticking out from certain areas and highlighted parts to accompany them. beomgyu nearly chokes mid slurp at the sight.

“sooo, how do we do this?” as beomgyu stretches out his question, y/n takes their first bite into their food. just as they feared, it was delicious. so much flavor in everything, but not too overbearing in being salty or spicy. they could attempt to figure out which brand he used, but they’re here for other things.

“well,” y/n finishes swallowing their food. “we could start with any questions you might have.”

“yeah, i’m sure you have all the answers,” beomgyu stiffly laughs as he brings his head forward to the script that centers in front of the two.

y/n feels their cheeks flush red and heat up at the exposure. they hope he doesn’t notice. “i just mean if you need anything to be clarified. it could help you play the role better.”

beomgyu draws in his breath and stares at the stack of papers longingly. throughout his education, he was taught to find the theme of each piece he reads. reading this script has given him an idea of what it could be in this case, but some parts are a bit foggy. he feels self-conscious asking y/n what it is. he doesn’t want them to think he’s an idiot, even though they probably already think he is. they’ve made their dislike for him quite obvious.

“um, i guess,” beomgyu holds his gaze in front but can feel y/n’s eyes on his. his blood pulses through his skin. “what this story is really about, you know, deep down.”

he’s expecting y/n to laugh in his face just like he did to them the other day, but they don’t. instead, y/n understandingly nods as they push their half eaten soup to the side to leave enough room to put their elbows on the table. for some reason, beomgyu finds this endearing. he was always scolded for leaving his elbows on the table. it wasn’t polite, apparently.

“well, ben is at crossroads when he gets into a college with a full basketball scholarship, but also gets into his dream school that would support his performing arts career. no one knows he's interested in that field so it's the good 'ol following the head or heart thing, which i'm always a sucker for.”

beomgyu watches y/n go on about the story for the production, even going over key plots that beomgyu might have missed. he notices there seems to be stars in y/n's eyes as they continue to talk. he can tell that they're speaking from the heart.

“i'm assuming that's the passion concept mrs. kim was going over in class the first day?” beomgyu guesses in thought.

“yeah, ben loves to perform and even plays guitar at some point,” y/n eagerly responds. “which should be easy for you, since you play right?”

beomgyu feels a small smile form on his lips. he quickly covers it up with another bite of his meal.

“wouldn't you consider that your passion?” y/n decides to try to get an answer out of him. it's been bugging them all this time that he hasn't been open about it.

“i know you really enjoy it, beomgyu,” y/n did catch his change in expression earlier. “you must be good at it too. if you admit that's what you're passionate about, it'll help you a ton.”

there's a moment of silence as beomgyu takes in their words and figures out what to do with them. the quiet atmosphere is almost uncomfortable and y/n can't tell if they've overstepped their boundaries. they consider leaving, but they did have an agenda here, and that was to rehearse some of this with beomgyu. instead, they opt for reaching to turn the page.

“i do love playing guitar,” beomgyu promptly admits. “and it is my passion. my uncle gave me my first guitar when i was in middle school and i haven't stopped playing since.”

y/n smiles at the thought of a small beomgyu, who was probably more unhinged than he is now, sitting down and playing a relaxing acoustic guitar. if they were told this years ago, they wouldn't have believed it. the more they look at beomgyu, it suits him. the calluses on certain fingers with those round, deep brown eyes of his focusing on a music sheet. the low husk to his voice covering songs with a beautiful essence.

“why didn't you want to admit it in class?” y/n realizes they needed to speak before it appears they've been staring at the boy for too long.

“because i barely wanted to admit it to myself,” beomgyu responds in full honesty. “my parents just see it as a hobby and don't think it can take me anywhere in life as it's not an official profession.”

y/n recalls the text beomgyu sent about only them and his parents knowing he plays guitar. his last sentence even has them think about their conversations with their dad, that sentiment hits too close to home. y/n chooses not to bring it up to beomgyu. they sit with caution as they wonder how many questions they could ask him.

“there's so many things you could do with that talent,” instead of potentially saying the wrong thing, y/n offers him some possible careers to lift his spirits. “you could be a songwriter, a producer. hey, even when you make it in the big leagues you could be a sound engineer in the blockbuster movies!”

there's a part to y/n's monologue that catches beomgyu's attention.

when you make it in the big leagues.

they didn't say if, they said when. beomgyu has never heard that word in regards to his future. it was always 'if', 'maybe', or any other tense that doubts his passion.

has he gotten his first supporter? and was it someone he has shared a moment so personal as a kiss?

“you said when,” beomgyu decides to bring up the fact.

it takes a moment for y/n to register what he means, but with the astonished expression on his face, the feeling soon settles in on them. y/n has their supporters, it was time for beomgyu to have his. despite how they feel about him and their past history that annoyingly hangs on their head, they weren't a monster. perhaps it was time to see beomgyu in a different light and it appears that they were the only one to do so.

“so throughout the story dae is there for ben to open his eyes in realizing that pursuing his dream is the right path to go,” y/n steers off in a different direction. “since it's romance, of course there has to be a fling between them.”

beomgyu softly smiles to himself picturing the story unfold. “i'm sure ben appreciates dae being there for him and seeing what he can do.”

y/n feels warm as they see beomgyu finally start to understand the plot and it only took them to have an honest conversation. talking with beomgyu wasn't as bad as they expected.

“i'm sure dae loves supporting him through it all when no one else would.”

beomgyu lifts his head up to face y/n who is gazing right back at him. it's the first time their expression isn't written in disgust or annoyance. in fact, it appears to be loving. he wishes it could always be like this.

the moment stretches out a little longer and beomgyu can't help but glance down at y/n's lips. he wonders if it still tastes like cherry chapstick. the red tint they have makes him believe it's still accurate. y/n catches the gesture and coughs down some air as they play with the edges of the paper. they fight the urge to not rip the ends of it and curl them into little balls, a habit they got from kai.

“so…yeonjun and taehyun don't know?” y/n speaks in an airy voice, their eyes still locked on the words written in front of them.

beomgyu doesn't know if they're referring to the guitar thing, or the kiss they shared four years ago.

frankly, y/n isn't sure about what they mean either.

still, beomgyu chooses an answer to please both questions.

“not a single thing.”

y/n hums in response, their lips tight together. beomgyu plays with the chopsticks in his now empty bowl when he hears a voice speak up once again.

“would you be able to play for me?”

beomgyu knows this question is referring to his talent for guitar, and due to the seriousness he's been displaying this entire time now, he switches gears for a lighthearted moment.

“i'll play for you when we go on a date.”

y/n would expect some rage boil down to their stomach, as they would have reacted that way before. this feeling, though? was it butterflies? nervousness? whatever it was, it sure wasn't negative. this night is full of firsts.

“do you…do you want to rehearse some of it now?” y/n clears their throat in between. beomgyu doesn't question their non-response and agrees with a head nod.

…

the two got through the first act right at midnight. to their surprise, beomgyu wasn't that bad at acting. sure, he missed a couple cues that ensued some awkward presentations, but it's nothing they couldn't work on together. they even liked the slight challenge. being co-stars with soobin now seemed too easy for them.

beomgyu was the difference they needed.

“you can be honest, you know,” beomgyu speaks in a playful manner as he finishes the last dish to wash. he hands the bowl for y/n to dry with a damp rag.

“i mean it! you weren't terrible,” y/n chuckles while they reach to put the bowl away in the cupboards.

after beomgyu and y/n finished rehearsing the first half they decided to wash the dishes. y/n didn't even suggest helping him dry, they just did it with no questions asked. still, it was another conversation starter.

“that means a lot coming from you,” beomgyu snickers and reaches for the rag in y/n's hands to dry his own. he smiles at them while looking down at their sweater, noticing a small stain of sauce near the front.

“hey, you got something there,” he points out as y/n glances down at the gesture, mentally cursing in their head. they hated getting their clothes dirty, let alone their borrowed ones from kai.

y/n whines as they reach for a paper towel to attempt to clean it off, only to have beomgyu stop them in between the action.

“you'll make it worse,” beomgyu advises. “i have a washing machine upstairs if you wanted to stay a little while longer.”

y/n would have rejected the offer if it weren't for their washing machine being repaired as they speak. they really loved this sweatshirt, they were hoping to wear it again this week. they scrunch their nose as their left eye slightly squints, thinking about what they should do.

they weren't repulsed by hanging out with beomgyu a little more, but sleep was about to hit them at any moment. it was better if they left now before they accidentally take a nap at a red light.

“i would but i should be getting home,” y/n apologetically responds.

“are you sure? you could give it to me and i'll have it ready for you tomorrow,” beomgyu cringes at the fact that he sounds like a dry cleaner. y/n finds it amusing.

man, how they loved that sweatshirt.

“fine just- don't screw it up,” y/n warns as they slip off the piece of clothing, feeling a breeze hit the bottom of their stomach as it lifts a little along with it.

y/n hands him the sweatshirt warily, hesitating to give it to him all the way, to which beomgyu responds with a deadpan. y/n smiles and ultimately gives it to him, and beomgyu places it on the couch for him to put away later.

y/n walks over to their tote bag and beomgyu suggests walking them outside. part of it was to be a gentleman, but he just wanted to see them drive away safely. y/n wouldn't be aware of the second option.

“don't forget your script next time,” y/n finally instructs him at the door. they're on the outside as beomgyu stays inside, hanging his arm on the doorframe as a slight smirk forms on his face.

“wouldn't count on it, i love this story too much now,” beomgyu doesn't mean to admit the last part, but y/n can't help but cheese at the statement.

“i'm glad to hear that,” y/n crosses their arms with a grin as they take a few steps back, ready to head to their vehicle.

“i'll give you updates on your sweater when i text you,” beomgyu calls out to them. “goodnight, drive safe.”

y/n sends over two thumbs up and begins to back up once they're inside their car. beomgyu doesn't head inside until they're completely out of his sight.

…

y/n doesn't fall asleep as quickly as they would've thought. they've been spending the past hour mindlessly scrolling through their feed, feeling their eyes blink slowly each time.

how could they sleep when tonight went better than they thought?

a notification appears at the top that brings a grin ear to ear and it's at this moment they realize one thing.

there would be no false promises between them and beomgyu.

there would be no more 'if's'.

please do not translate, modify or repost on other platforms.

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chaosbarelycontained · 7 months ago

Text

I Don’t Care For Your Attitude

North Country Boy Chapter 7

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x AFAB!OC

TW: Swearing, fighting

Words: 3.1k

Synopsis: Jules and Ghost butt heads over an upcoming mission and young Jules fights for Simon’s honour.

Scribbling some notes down on her virtual notepad, Jules used a hand gesture to continue her flyover of the northern reaches of Dushikistan, a tiny country in the Pamir Mountains. The terrain was harsh and yet beautiful, with rolling steppes giving way to towering peaks crowned white with snow.

Sandy-coloured yurts and small brick buildings were well camouflaged against the rocky ground but, as Jules focussed in on one particular valley, more and more became visible. She hovered over the area for a few more minutes before her view changed and the camera panned between two cliff faces and across to an ancient fortress that, to the untrained eye, seemed ruined and abandoned. Jules double-tapped her thumb and middle finger together and the image enlarged. Staring at the ground around the fortress she finally saw the confirmation she needed in the subtle tyre marks that surrounded the structure.

“Gotcha,” she muttered, making a few screenshots and altering the contrast so that the tracks were more visible.

Checking the time in the bottom left of her viewscreen she was relieved to see she still had fifteen minutes until Price’s briefing so she pinged the information she’d collated across to her tablet and stashed her headset on its charger dock. Her emerald grey beret found its place back on her head and she tucked her tablet into her trouser pocket. She meticulously checked that every piece of equipment was logged off and shut down before exiting the room and locking the door.

On her way back over to the small barracks building she’d come to call home, Jules heard a whistle. She turned to find Roach jogging to catch up with her and she slowed her pace so that he could fall into step beside her.

“Alright, Tiger?” he asked genially, “whatcha been up to?”

“Just finalising some intel for the briefing. You?”

“Watching Ghost beast the rookies,” he snickered. “I would have helped but it was too entertaining. I think one of ‘em might have actually shit his pants.”

Jules gave a derisive snort. “The SAS selection process must be seriously lackin’ if they’re findin’ the Hallowe'en Drama Queen that terrifyin’.”

Roach faced her with an expression of concerned bemusement. “What the fuck do they feed you in Manchester? You’re all fucking bonkers. Just make sure you don’t say that to his face.”

“I would if he’d ever show it, an’ if he tried somethin’ again I’d knock his fuckin’ block off,” she tutted, rolling her eyes.

The smile that had been brewing on Roach’s face rapidly vanished as he glanced behind Jules. He blanched, swallowing thickly, and cast his eyes to the ground. Jules’ stomach threatened to drop out of her arse as she sensed the hulking presence behind them draw ever closer but it was caught by the net of her fury and she managed to maintain her poise, raising her chin arrogantly as the Lieutenant stalked past them.

“Ya could try, Sergeant, but yer too short to reach,” he rumbled, without a backward glance.

“That was…tame,” Roach muttered out of the corner of his mouth. “Just make sure you don’t go anywhere alone for the next few days.”

Jules sucked in a breath, ready to respond, but then caught the teasing glint in Roach’s eye and the smirk that grew in the corner of his mouth.

“Dickhead,” she chuckled, nudging his shoulder.

They weren’t the last to reach the briefing room, Soap followed along close behind them, and the entirety of Bravo Company was seated before the briefing was due to start. Price gave a run down of what they already knew and then gestured to Jules with an upturned palm.

“Our resident recon specialist has been working on locations. What’ve you got for us, Tiger?”

Jules stood and pressed the remote that turned on the large screen fixed to one of the walls, making sure it mirrored her tablet. She projected the flyover of the valleys that she’d been searching earlier, and then made the video freeze on an image of the fortress.

“There’s an old fortress just outside this village. Looks abandoned but there’s vehicle marks around it. Too many for somethin’ so far away from tourist trails. That’s where they’re hidin’.”

“Sounds promising,” Price nodded his approval. “Ghost, what d’you reckon?”

The Lieutenant dragged his eyes away from the screen to face his Captain.

“Looks like a fairly simple op to me. In and out. Get Delta Company in to clean up.” He jerked his chin upward, already expecting everyone to concur.

“Agreed,” Price said. “Soap, you’re…sorry Sergeant Kelsall, you got something to add?” he raised his eyebrow at the sound of Jules clearing her throat.

“Yeah, it’s the locals, Sir,” she said, mentally steeling herself against the Captain’s laser-sharp scrutiny. “It’s too much of a risk to them if we go mob-handed an’ all guns blazin’.”

“Negative, Captain.” Ghost interjected as he planted his feet more firmly on the floor and folded his arms across his chest. “The intel we’d gain is worth the potential casualties.”

Jules planted her hands on her hips and shook her head. “I have to disagree. These people aren’t involved with this organisation. They need to be protected as much as possible.”

Ghost let out a derive scoff and rolled his eyes. “Just what we needed,” he tutted. “A bleedin’ heart sympathist. We’ve got a job to do.”

Jules turned her head slowly and glared at Ghost with thinly veiled contempt.

“If ye weren’t my Lieutenant I’d call you a cunt,” she snapped, ignoring the snorts of amused disbelief from the rest of the squad. “It’s nothin’ to do wi’ that. If I thought the juice was worth the squeeze I’d say go for it, but it's not.”

She tapped on her tablet a few times and the display on the large screen behind the Captain changed to a view of the settlement. “These villagers have been feeding us intel for months. They don’t trust easily. If we put them in harm’s way then they’ll never let us back in and we’ll have lost a valuable source.”

“You’ve got a fair point there Tiger,” Price admitted, ponderously. “What do you suggest?”

“We need to be subtle about it,” Jules pressed. “There’s an abandoned settlement in the next valley. I can contact our guys closest to the area, get a base set up, an’ then we can recce from there.” She went to tap on her tablet again but paused and looked at Price. “If you don’t mind, Sir, I took the liberty of writin’ up a plan.”

“Go for it,” he nodded.

Jules pinged the mission overview onto the large screen so that everyone could read the details. There were mutterings of agreement from the rest of Bravo Company, and even Ghost raised his eyebrow in surprise at the detail in Jules’ work.

“Alright Tiger, you’ve got me convinced,” Price said, stroking his hand across his beard. “Get in touch with your contact and get the ops base sorted. I’ll have a look over this in more detail and we’ll reconvene at 1600hrs to finalise. Johnny, Roach, you’re the kit men. Gaz, get onto transport. I want to be in the air by 0800 tomorrow.

There was a chorus of “affirmitive”, “aye, Sir,” and “on it,” from the squad.

With a nod from Price, the three teammates were dismissed to their various tasks, leaving the Captain with his Lieutenant and Jules, who had returned to her tablet and was tapping away distractedly.

“Don’t suppose you’ve got any way of seeing inside that fortress, Kelsall? A floor plan or something?” Price asked.

“Just sent you over the schematics, Sir,” she said, the corner of her mouth twisting up into a smile as glanced up from her screen.

“Do I want to know how you managed to get your hands on those?”

“Prob’ly not,” she admitted, “but if y’get a call from the Dushiki Government archives just act natural.”

Price snickered and appraised the Sergeant with growing affection, the glow from her tablet picking out the frown of concentration on her face. He looked across at Ghost then, who had been characteristically silent since his earlier snarky comments to Jules, and was surprised to see an expression of outright admiration on the face of the usually stoic soldier.

Speaking aloud, as if he hadn’t seen a thing, Price walked around the table to his own tablet, picking it up and scanning the information displayed there.

“Gonna put Johnny and Roach on perimeter, Gaz can take the East side with me so that leaves you two on the West.”

Jules looked up sharply, barely managing to school her face into something resembling blandess.

“Is that gonna be a problem?” Price asked, looking at Jules but addressing both of them.

“Not fer me, Sir,” she gritted.

“Ghost?” Price tried, but his second in command was still lost in his reverie. “Hey…Lieutenant.”

Ghost almost jumped, his eyes flying to Price as his brain registered the question.

“Negative,” he finally replied. “No problems here.”

“Good, get on with it then,” Price dismissed them and turned his attention back to his tablet as he rubbed his fingers over his moustache and muttered under his breath.

Jules nodded her acknowledgement and made her way through the door, her pace slower than normal as she continued to read her screen, but she stiffened as she heard Ghost’s voice calling to her.

“Hold up Ju-Sergeant,” he corrected himself.

“What?” She said abruptly, barely sparing him a glance.

“Bit out of your pay grade, to come up with a deployment plan, innit? Then again, once a swot…” There was a teasing tone to his words that Jules immediately interpreted as mockery.

“Maybe in this squad,” she replied, her face growing flush, “but in the SRR we were expected to contribute.”

“We’re not the SRR.”

“That’s painfully obvious,” she snarked back, one hand resting on her hip as she pointedly looked him up and down.

Ghost huffed out a sigh and scratched at the back of his neck. “Look, do you need me to check-”

“Check my work?” Jules said incredulously. “Nice t’know y’ve got confidence in your team, Lieutenant. Would y’ve asked Gaz that? Or Soap? Didn’t think so.”

“I didn't mean it like that,” he tried.

“Yeah ye did. Is it because you think you know me? ‘Cause if it is then you thought wrong. I’ve been doin’ this shit for nearly ten years an’ I ain’t had any complaints about ma deployment prep so far.”

“No, just about yer ability to follow orders. Yer file said as much.” He couldn’t help but push her just that little bit further.

“Oh, ya can read? Clever lad. For a while there y’had me wonderin’. Now I know you just ignored ma letters an’ messages on purpose,” she seethed with her jaw set.

She was furious once more and the act of trying to keep it bottled up inside made her chin tremble and her eyes began to water even as they flashed with anger. Not wanting him to think he’d made her cry, Jules turned on her heel and stalked off down the corridor towards the mess.

“I read ‘em all,” he muttered quietly, but she’d already retreated too far away to hear him.

Slipping into the seemingly empty mess, Jules rested her back against the wall and sniffled loudly. Frustrated with herself for letting her emotions get the better of her, she wiped away an errant tear with the back of her hand and took a shaky breath. The door beside opened once more and Jules steeled herself for another confrontation with the Lieutenant but it was Gaz who entered. He started at the sight of her, clearly not expecting anyone to be there, but then his expression changed into one of concern as he noticed her red-rimmed eyes.

“What’s happened?” he asked gently, which only served to encourage another tear to slip down Jules’s cheek.

“Nothin’ really,” she shrugged, swiping away the evidence of her emotions. “I’m not upset, I’m-” She let out a dry chuckle at Gaz’s obvious disbelief. “I’m not! I’m actually fumin’. This is just anger leakin’ out of my eyes,” she gestured to her face.

“Let me guess…” Gaz began, folding his arms across his chest and tilting his now-frowning face cockily towards her in a passable impression of Ghost.

His tactic worked and Jules began to laugh in earnest.

“Yeah,” she confirmed. “Can’t ever let ‘em see you cry though. They might think you actually care.”

“Come here,” Gaz said, slinging his arm around her shoulder and squeezing tightly. “Chin up, you’ve got this. Just try not to deck him again, yeah?”

* * * * *

It was almost dark by the time Jules made it out of the computer rooms at college but Rachel still waited for her by the entrance. A cold wind whipped around her legs and she pulled her coat tighter across her chest, her head bowed down as she hooked her arm through Rachel’s and tugged her friend towards the bus stop.

“You comin’ to mine?” she asked but Rachel replied in the negative.

“Nah, I can’t tonight. I gotta pick our Gary up from the childminder’s.”

“Fair enough,” Jules said, pulling a face.

“Oi, Kelsall,” a harsh voice squawked and Jules turned to find a small gaggle of girls stalking towards them.

Squinting her eyes against the wind she realised all too soon who had called her name.

“Givin’ me dirties now too eh? Cheeky bitch,” Debbie snapped, coming to stand before Jules, her hip popped and her head tilted to the side as she crossed her arms under her chest.

“Alright Debbie? What’s up?” Jules tried warily.

“What’s up? I’ll tell yeh what’s up, yeh little slag…” Her head bobbed aggressively as she gesticulated wildly.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Jules interrupted, holding up her hands. “I don’t know what’s goin’ on but yer not talkin’ to me like that.”

“I’ll talk to yeh however I want seein’ as yeh think it’s ok to shag mi fella behind mi back.”

“Hang on a minute,” Rachel interjected. “What fella? You don’t mean Simon do yeh?”

“Who else would I mean? This little tart’s been ‘anging after ‘im fer ages. It’s pathetic,” Debbie sneered.

“You shagged Simon Riley?!” Rachel exclaimed, turning to Jules with a look of excitement and surprise.

“No, I didn’t,” Jules hissed, “we just…messed around a bit after the taxi dropped us off last week.”

“Get in,” Rachel grinned, giving Jules a high five.

“That’s not what I heard,” Debbie snapped, stepping closer to Jules. “You were all over ‘im like a rash. You need tuh find yer own fella an’ leave mine alone, fuckin’ slag.”

“Alright, that’s enough.’ Jules said, her voice low and even as she squared up to Debbie, staring her straight in the eye. “Number one, I’m not shaggin’ Simon bloody Riley, and number two, even if I were it wouldn’t matter coz he ain’t your fella anyway. He sacked you off coz you let Skinny Mike get in your knickers round the back of the chippy. Everyone knows so there’s no point in tryin’ to say it didn’t ‘appen. Just fuck off and leave me alone.”

With one last, angry glare, Jules turned her back to Debbie and, grabbing Rachel’s arm again, began to stride away.

“You know what?” Debbie called after her, her voice laced with malice. “Yer welcome to ‘im, he’s a scrubber anyway with his cheap shit clothes and fake trainers. He’s got that many bruises, I bet he’s a skag-head.”

Jules froze for a split second, just long enough for Rachel to tighten her hold on her elbow before she was turning once more. Ripping her arm out of her friend’s grip, Jules tore across the pavement and launched herself at the grinning girl, whose eyes widened in surprise at the ferocity of Jules’ attack.

“Say that again.” Jules screeched. “Say it again, I fuckin’ DARE you.”

The two girls scrabbled on the floor in a mess of flying fists and clawed fingers. Blood was smeared across both their faces by the time their mates managed to tear them apart and Debbie was dragged away surrounded by her gaggle. Jules tried to go after her but Rachel’s arm around her heaving shoulders was enough to cause her to halt. She spat after Debbie’s retreating back and then raised a hand to probe at a tender spot on her temple.

“She didn’t get any of mi hair, did she?” Jules asked sheepishly.

“Nah, mate,” but yer gonna have a few decent bruises tomorrow.”

“I’m not cryin’, you know,” Jules sniffled, wiping the back of her hand gingerly across her eyes.

“I know,” Rachel nodded.

“I’m just fumin’.”

“I know,” Rachel said again, a broad grin slowly creeping across her face. “You know what else though?”

“What?”

“You snogged Simon Riley.”

“Yeah I did,” Jules began to giggle, which turned into a laugh and, by the time the bus arrived the two girls were crying together, arms wrapped so tightly around their bellies they could barely put their clipper cards into the machine.

Rachel had been right. By the next morning Jules’ eye had developed a deep purple bruise beneath it and there were some angry-looking claw marks across the side of her jaw. Thankful that it was Saturday and she wouldn’t have to brave the questions at college, Jules had stuck around in her room until her Mum had left for work and then trudged downstairs to make herself some breakfast and a brew. Of course it was just her luck that there was a tap on the back door and it opened to reveal the one person she really didn’t want to see.

A faint blush crept its way up Simon’s neck when he realised Jules was standing in the kitchen. They hadn’t seen each other since that night out and neither of them really knew how to react around the other. As his eyes finally found their way to her face he hissed in a breath at the state of her.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell Jules, what happened?”

“Nothin’,” she mumbled, dipping her head.

“That don’t look like nothin’,” he pressed, closing the door behind him and moving further into the kitchen.

“She had a fight with that Debbie,” Rob said from the hallway. “Apparently Debbie took the worst of it. Dunno why she’d wanna cause trouble wi’ you tho, eh Jules?”

Jules’ eyes whipped up to meet Simon’s and they shared a look of panic but Rob remained oblivious.

“She’ll know better than to pick on a Kellsall, won’t she,” Rob said, slipping his arm around Jules’ shoulder and squeezing her tight.

“Yeah well,” Jules muttered, staring at Simon over the rim of her mug, “I ain’t havin’ anyone slaggin’ off me or mine.”

Taglist: @aykxz98 @spicyspicyliving

#call of duty #cod mw2 #ghost cod #ghost x oc #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod mwii #john price #john soap mactavish #soap cod #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick

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