#but it’s more sexy and playful since that’s her style too…

[swordmaid]

astarion knowing how to sew and making genuinely nice and wearing pieces that’s both functional and actually looks good vs shri’iia who - when she gets clothes - just starts shredding it to the point that it’s barely covering anything as per drow aesthetic standards

[harryslittlefreakk]

favourite crime

summary: a chance meeting between y/n and her professor leads to a dare… which leads to a forbidden affair neither of them will forget

wordcount: 8k!!!! can you even believe it!!

warnings: smut (exhibitionism, foreplay) , inappropriate relationship (lol)

a/n: i love professorry & you guys voted for this one so i hope i’ve done him justice! this was going to be a one shot but i wrote so much more than i planned lol so it will be a mini series. please let me know if you enjoy <3

my masterlist and taglist can be found here 🥰

“I’ll give you £50 if you go over there.”

“Not a chance, Courtney. I’m not sacrificing my education for £50.”

“I’ll buy your drinks for the rest of the year then.”

You wrapped your hands around your glass, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. Your eyes had been glued to the back of your professor’s head since he arrived, jitters coursing through your body. He’d stayed frozen at the bar the entire time, a neat whiskey in one hand and his nose deep in a book.

“He’s so fucking sexy,” you muttered, a blush creeping up your cheeks as you watched the way his tongue jutted out just slightly, wetting his finger so he could turn the page. “Alright, wish me luck,” you beamed at your friend, sliding out of the booth.

You wove through the crowd around the bar, making sure to stay out of Harry’s sight. Your voice was barely audible as you ordered two drinks, a spicy marg for you and a neat whiskey for him. Even the roar of music and chatter was dimmed as your heart pounded in your ears, still watching Harry like a hawk in case he was suddenly joined by a girlfriend.

The coast was clear when you got the drinks, the barstool next to him still invitingly empty. You turned back to your table, pulling a mock nervous grimace as you held the drinks up in the air. After a final check for anyone heading towards Harry, you decided to make your move.

“What would a handsome young man like you be doing here alone?” you teased, slipping into the seat next to Harry as you set down a new drink in front of him. His eyes lingered on his book for a second before looking over at you, an expectant smirk quickly replaced by a frown.

“Miss y/l/n,” was all he managed to say, his mouth drying up as he scanned your body, green eyes lingering just a second too long when they met your cleavage.

“Professor Styles,” you replied, tapping the rim of your glass against his. “Cheers.”

“It’s wildly inappropriate to buy your professor a drink,” he told you, voice stern but a small smile playing on his lips.

You turned away from him, craning your neck to look around the bar. His eyes followed yours, brows knitted when you eventually looked back at him with a satisfied grin. “Just checking. No university higher ups here, so you’re free to act inappropriately.”

“Thank you for the drink,” Harry smiled, folding over a corner of the page he was reading before reluctantly closing the book.

You snatched it from his grasp, a mocking gasp falling from your lips as you flicked through the tattered book. Almost every page was dog-eared, the spine broken and sellotaped back together, half the book bent out of shape from water damage. “You’re an English teacher. And you treat your books this way?”

He chuckled, stretching out an open hand to silently ask for his book back. You clutched it close to your chest, hands splayed across the book to protect it from his touch. “You can’t be trusted with it anymore.”

“This is so inappropriate,” Harry muttered, covering his smirk with a tanned hand as he shook his head. Every second you spent at his side felt like a step closer to unemployment, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn you away. After all, you were in a bar out of town, and the likelihood of anyone seeing you was low.

You grabbed a napkin while he mused, pulling him out of his thoughts when you shoved a hand into the pocket of his slacks. Harry's eyebrows raised in surprise as you pulled out a pen, a mischievous glint in your eyes. He couldn't help the rush of adrenaline he felt at your touch, sparks tingling where your fingers had brushed against his thigh, the silk lining of his pocket suddenly warm.

He cleared his throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure as he leaned one elbow against the bar. "I think it's time you head back," he said, his husky voice tinged with a mix of amusement and apprehension. The tension between you was palpable, and he knew he needed to put some distance between you before things went too far.

You scribbled something on the napkin, folding it in half and slotting it into Harry’s book, taking time to lovingly smooth out the crease he had folded into it before handing it back to him.

“Nice seeing you, Professor,” you winked, downing the remainder of your cocktail and setting the glass down next to his book before making your way back over to your table.

Harry watched as you sauntered back, your hips swaying in time with the music. There was an air of danger about you that lingered just out of his reach, intrigue creeping through his bones. He’d noticed your natural charm from the day you joined his class, the way you were a friend to everyone who gave you as much as a glance, and an enemy only to the girls who cared more for their looks than their popularity. You’d always submitted good papers, asked important questions, and listened when he asked you to stop your incessant chatting to the people around you. But he’d never noticed this side of you, and now that he had, he didn’t think he could go without it.

With a final glance over in your direction, Harry finished his whiskey and stalked out of the bar, desperate to cool off before he got carried away with the idea of you.

By the time you looked over at him, he was gone, and your friend was interrogating you about what had happened.

“Nothing,” you mumbled, drawing on your greatest acting skills to feign a pout.

“I don’t buy that for a second,” Courtney poked, grinning excitedly as your frown morphed into a smirk.

“You can’t tell anyone, I mean it.”

“Swear on my life.”

“I gave him my number,” you grinned, unable to keep your cool for even a minute.

Courtney gasped, banging her hand down on the table. “You didn’t!”

“I did. But I don’t think he’ll use it,” you laughed, silently hoping that he would.

—

You’d checked your phone the entire way home, waiting for a text that might never come. But the second you climbed into bed, reluctantly accepting your love affair had died a premature death, your phone let out the most glorious little ding it ever would.

unknown number: did you get home safe?

You thrashed around the bed for a second, jaw snapping so low it could have smacked against the floor. You read and reread the message, eyes wandering over every letter.

y/n: safe and alone if that’s what you’re asking

You watched as the little white dots appeared and disappeared, over and over again, until they finally vanished for good.

But you’d already taken it further than you’d ever planned to, so you added Harry’s number to your contacts, and called him.

He answered after a few rings, his voice low and husky when he finally spoke. “You shouldn’t be calling me.”

“And you shouldn’t be answering,” you teased, giddy at the realisation that you were now having a late night phone call with the hottest man on the planet.

“How else am I going to tell you how inappropriate this is?” Harry sighed, though you could hear the reluctant amusement lacing his words.

You rolled onto your front, grinning at your phone like a love drunk teenager. “You can tell me to back off if you really want,” you offered, fingers crossing in a desperate plea for him to do the exact opposite.

He stayed silent for a minute, the cogs almost audible as he weighed up the pros and cons. “It’s already gone this far,” he murmured eventually. “Thank you, by the way. For the drink and the bookmark.”

You bit down on your lip in a desperate attempt to control your grin from splitting your face clean in half. “That’s two gifts from me now, what do I get from you?”

“You get to keep your education and not be reported to every higher up there is,” Harry laughed.

“And what else?” With every word you felt like you were falling deeper into cuckoo land. It was so out of character for you, never the one to blindly make your move on a man. And not just a man, the professor you’d harboured a juvenile crush on for the entire academic year.

“Nothing else. You’re bad news,” Harry replied. You pictured him sitting with his phone in hand, a stern frown and warm smirk juxtaposed on his chiseled face.

“Am I really?”

“Definitely.” Even the sound of his voice had you weak at the knees. You’d never make it through tomorrow’s lecture, melted to a puddle in your seat within five minutes.

“Maybe you should delete this number then.”

“Bold of you to assume I’ve saved it,” Harry replied, his turn to tease now.

“Well then what are you worried about? There’s no evidence of your crime,” you mocked.

“Don’t call it a crime.”

“Can I at least be your favourite crime?”

Harry sighed again, a real exasperated sigh this time. Your grin fell as he stumbled over what to say, the potential repercussions of your chase suddenly weighing heavy on you both. “Look, I’ll be honest with you here y/n, I don’t know what I’m doing,” Harry confessed, his voice soft as he spoke.

“Can we not just worry about it later?” It was a plead you hoped the both of you would take notice of.

“Not when my career hangs in the balance.” He went quiet again, only shallow breaths and the drumming of his fingers audible from the other end of the line. “Meet me in my office at the end of the day tomorrow,” he finally muttered. “And not a word of this to anyone.”

“Goodnight, professor,” you smiled, heart pounding so violently you feared it could burst through your chest as you ended the call.

Either he wasn’t done with you yet, or he was really done. And if the tone of his voice and the reluctance that laced it gave you any clues, you had your money (and hopes) on the former.

—

You spent the whole morning in a daze, pulling your phone out every few minutes to check your message history in case you’d made the whole thing up. It felt like a bizarre fever dream, an alternate reality you’d stumbled into. Every time you saw the read the text from Harry your heart skipped a beat, doing nothing to calm you. Whatever he wanted to see you for was eating away at you, your fate resting in his hands. You didn’t even notice the campus barista calling your name, over and over again as your head and your heart argued loudly in your mind.

When you finally snapped back to reality, grabbing your coffee with a stream of apologies tumbling from your lips, you saw Harry watching you, an amused smirk curling the corners of his mouth.

You winked at him as you left the cafe, unnoticeable to anyone but him, but just enough to make him uncomfortable.

“He looks good today,” Courtney mused, pushing open the lecture hall door and leading you towards the nearest empty seats. They were too near the front for your liking, especially today, but at least Harry couldn’t miss you.

“How do I look?” you asked Courtney, glancing down at your outfit. You’d tried to be cute, in case that swayed him towards fulfilling your dirtiest desires, but not too over the top. You weren’t going to force him into bed if that isn’t where he wanted to end up with you.

“Like the little slut you are,” she teased, grinning as you rolled your eyes.

“He told me to go to his office at the end of the day. What if I get there and he’s sitting with the head waiting to grass me up?”

“Then you can blame me,” Courtney smiled, always ready to shoulder your academic and personal failures.

“What if he’s not?”

“Then you can thank me.”

You rested your chin in your hands, eyes glued to the head of whoever was sat in front of you as you grumbled and groaned. You were too busy freaking out to notice Harry coming in, his eyes continually flicking to you as he set up the projector.

“I really want him,” you groaned, just loud enough for the words to reach Harry’s ear, a tiny blush creeping up his cheeks as he read your lips.

“Silence, please,” he called out, eyes still locked on yours with his lips curled into a barely noticeable smirk.

He kept his eyes trained on you the entire class, not even attempting to look away whenever you caught him staring. If you were crazy, you’d notice that he’d paid a little more attention to his appearance that day. His brown curls were pushed back with a little gel, his ringed fingers falling to his side every time he reached up to brush a hand through his hair. He’d ditched the v-neck sweater for a crisp white shirt, hints of tattoos you didn’t know he had poking through the material.

-

You didn’t even notice it was the end of the day until your subconscious carried you out of the crowd of students heading for the exit, and you found yourself knocking on Harry’s door.

He called you in, straightening up as you pushed open the door and looked around expectantly. The university higher ups weren’t there to escort you off campus immediately, and you felt a little weight fall off your shoulders.

His office was quaint, littered with books and notes. Harry sat behind a tower of papers, an old fashioned table lamp illuminating his desk in warm orange hues. He waited for you to sit down in front of him, grinning as he handed you an uncapped pen. “I thought you could help me with some marking since you’re so desperate to harass me outside of lessons,” he smirked, nodding to the stack of papers.

“Any excuse to spend time with me,” you muttered, grinning as you dropped your bag down next to you. Harry handed half of his pile to you, and you work silently for a while, your mind running a million miles an hour. He hadn’t shut you down, hadn’t made any effort to tell you to stop. And he found a way for you to spend more one on one time together.

Harry cleared his throat suddenly, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Need to ask you something,” he murmured, setting his pen down on top of the paper he was working on.

You looked up at him silently, brows knitted and pouted lips falling open as you waited for him to continue. He was shifty, eyes squinted as if he didn’t want the words to come out. “You’re not trying to get something, are you?” he paused, tensing up in his seat. “Like… I don’t know. ‘Let me get some dirt so i can blackmail my professor for good grades.’”

His mouth hung open as he waited for you to reply, watching you go from confusion, to anger, to hurt in the time it took you to comprehend what he said.

You rubbed a hand over your face, trying to maintain your composure as you took in the weight of his words. “If that’s what you think then-”

You stood up, pulling your bag onto your shoulder. Harry jumped to his feet, circling around his desk as he read the hurt in your eyes. “It’s not, I have to ask-”

He reached out, grabbing a hold of your sleeve as you turned to walk away. Part of your brain willed you to stay, to not cause a scene and show him the immaturity that came with being tangled up with a younger woman. But you couldn’t stay there, not with him and his absurd view of you.

You pulled out of his grip, shrugging your sleeve back into place. “That’s not who I am,” you murmured, heading for the door as quickly as your shaky legs would take you. You left Harry standing there dumbfounded, face screwed up as you tried to make sense of him.

-

“Come on, please. Just one little boogie,” you pleaded with Courtney, already rifling through her wardrobe for something to wear. You’d promised each other to slow down with the nights out this year, try and use your evenings for important things like studying, or swiping through each other’s Tinders. But you were still a little pissed off, just enough that you required a best friend boogie to shake it off.

“Fine.” Courtney rolled her eyes, dragging her body off the bed to get changed.

The bar was busy when you got there, as noisy and as crowded as it was on the weekends. You groaned as you sunk into your seat at a corner booth, too irritated to deal with handsy men and having to shout about your problems over loud music.

unknown number: are you home?

Your phone lit up as you pulled it out your bag, a scowl taking over your features as your eyes gazed over the words.

unknown number: ?

“Who’s that?” Courtney asked, searching your frown for answers as you turned your phone face down on the table.

“Who do you think?”

“What the hell happened in his office?”

“Nothing, seriously nothing. He asked me if I’m trying to get dirt on him. So I can get better fucking grades.”

“It’s a valid question,” Courtney shrugged.

You groaned, holding your head in your hands. “I know it is. I’m just offended that he thinks I’m that kind of girl,” you explained.

“I’m sure he doesn’t. But if anything were to happen, there’s more for him to lose.”

“Well I don’t think I’d be finishing my education anywhere near here if it ever got out.”

“No, you’d be the town whore. Young women would come from all over the world, desperately seeking advice from their hero. Professors would fear even looking you in the eye,” Courtney teased, well prepared for your dramatics.

“You’re making me regret it before it’s even begun.”

“Stop pursuing him then.”

“You’re the one who dared me in the first place!”

Courtney patted your arm fondly, swilling the last of her drink around the walls of the glass. “While you’re brilliant company, I’d rather have a full glass while I talk to you. Same again?”

You picked up your phone hesitantly, as if it would detect your fear and automatically message Harry. He was too confusing, messing with your head already despite having spent less than an hour with him. You didn’t want messy, but somehow you needed him.

You threw your head in your hands, groaning as you peeled through your fingers. Courtney was taking too long, and naturally your eyes found her twirling her hair and grinning in the direction of the man with his arm around her waist.

He was cute, the exact kind of beachy blonde man you knew would leave Courtney in love after five minutes. She turned to look back at you with wide eyes, her excitement palpable even through the crowds between you.

You gave her a thumbs up, smile only faltering when you spotted a familiar face behind Courtney, the same brown curls that seemed to haunt your every move. Harry looked up from his phone at just the right moment to catch you staring. Busted. His warm gaze met your frosty glare, his cheeks tinged pink as his eyes focused on you.

You couldn’t exactly continue to ignore his texts now, especially with your phone quite clearly placed in front of you, so you broke eye contact, glancing down to type out a text to Harry.

y/n: no, busy riding the university head at the minute. thought i’d do go for the big dog 🤷��‍♀️

unknown number: come outside .

You watched as Harry slipped out of his booth, stalking towards the entrance. And like a little lap dog, you followed, eager to know what he had to say.

You slipped an arm around Courtney’s waist as you passed her, whispering in her ear about getting some fresh air. She nodded, but her eyes were glazed over, too deeply interested in this man to really hear what you said.

Harry was leaning against the wall outside when you reached him, head turned upwards towards the late evening skies. You stood next to him, back pressed against the brick with your eyes resting on him. Scanning over his features like it was the first and last time you’d ever see his face. The little mark of his glasses on the bridge of his nose, curls in tatters after a full day of running his hands through them every five minutes. He was attractive from the second you first set eyes on him, but most of his pull was in his personality. You didn’t know much of him, but what you did know was charming. He always told a stupid dad joke at the start of class to draw everyone in, his feedback was always positive even on the worst essays. No one ever felt stupid or less than around Harry, he made that his mission. And yet somehow now you felt like the most ridiculous little girl, chasing after someone she can’t have just for any benefits it might bring.

Harry had turned to face you at some point during your musing, silently watching your features soften and then change, moulding into different emotions as the cogs turned in your mind.

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” he started, shifting his body slightly as you looked back out onto the street.

“Then you shouldn’t have asked an offensive question.”

You knew you were showing your age, only aiding his perception of you, but you couldn’t help acting petty for a minute. You weren’t the adult in this situation, not the one who needed to be mature.

“I’m sorry. I just needed to know your intentions before-”

“You had every right to ask.”

Harry frowned, mouth opening in preparation to disagree with you before your rambling cut him off.

“No, you did. A lot more is at stake for you, I should’ve thought about that before I- I didn’t think you’d accept the drink, but you did, so I pushed, I was-”

“Testing the boundaries,” Harry finished for you.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t think we’ve hit them yet,” Harry mumbled, pulling his gaze away from you. You kept making him shy, painting an uncomfortable blush upon his skin, trailing goosebumps down his back. He was supposed to have the power here, yet he felt completely surrendered to you.

“Do you still want me to help you with marking?”

“If you want to. Was actually really helpful for me today.”

Your phone started buzzing in your hand, a stream of texts flashing up on the screen. “Courtney says she wants to go home with her new boyfriend, he has a roommate who can ‘have’ me,” you told Harry, face screwing up as you read the last words.

“That sounds nice,” he chuckled dryly, glancing down at his watch.

“Sounds horrific, no thank you. Haven’t even had my boogie yet,” you groaned, quickly tapping a similar yet softer message to Courtney.

Harry turned on his heel, stalking back towards the entrance of the bar as you dawdled behind him, eyes still glued to your phone screen.

“Where are we going?” you asked, following him to his table. Courtney was leaned against it, the new drink she’d meant to bring you long forgotten next to her. Her new lover was attached to her like a conjoined twin, his lips hitting places you’d dreamed of finding Harry’s. “Your table’s been taken over,” you mumbled, watching as Harry interrupted the snogging session with a firm tap on the back of the beachy blonde’s head.

“Y/n, Josh. Josh, y/n,” Harry beamed, inwardly cringing at having to explain his connection to you and Courtney.

You shot her a puzzled look, mouth hanging open as you looked between the three of them standing across from you. Courtney’s face mirrored yours, smile morphing into a smug smirk as she realised. “He’s your roommate?” she asked Josh, thumb pointing towards Harry.

“Yeah. How do you-?”

“Story for another time mate,” Harry laughed, patting down his pockets to check he had everything before leading you out of the bar.

—

“Did you plan this?” you laughed, cocking your head in mock suspicion. Josh and Courtney had disappeared into his bedroom before you’d even taken your shoes off, leaving you and Harry alone for the evening. In his house.

It was cute, a tiny but spacious two bed. He had books littering every surface, all as tattered and worn as the one he’d been reading in the bar. And the shut of him fixing you some dinner, a tea towel thrown over his shoulder… it was a good job you were propped up against the breakfast bar for how weak your legs had become.

Harry held his hands up in defence, turning round to look at you. “I swear on my life, no. I invited Josh out for one, he went to get our drinks and they must’ve bumped into each other at the bar.”

“Why did you go back to the same bar?”

“Why did you?” Harry countered, the pasta water bubbling dangerously high as he abandoned the jumble of pots and pans on the hob, leaning on the countertop in front of you.

“I asked you first,” you smirked, reaching out to swat at his face. He caught your wrist in one quick movement, pinning your hand down between you both.

“I’m older.” Harry cocked his head to the side, a playful curl tugging at the corners of his mouth. There was something soft about him, an air of domesticity that you dreamed about in a man but rarely saw.

You wrapped your fingers around his, pushing your hand against his until they sat just between your faces. “How old are you?”

“I am… old enough to be your teacher,” Harry grinned, pulling his eyes from your face to frown at your hands. “Are you seriously trying to arm wrestle me?”

You felt his arm tense up, his grip on your hand tightening as he slammed your hand back down on the countertop, a laugh rising out of him. “Seriously,” you frowned, making no attempt to loosen your grip on him as he rounded the breakfast bar, stopping when his face was only inches from yours.

The food was long forgotten, the pasta water sizzling as it overflowed onto the hob. Neither of you noticed, too enthralled by your proximity and the crackle of tension in the air.

“Thirty four,” Harry replied finally, his breath tickling your skin.

It didn’t matter anymore. He could’ve been fifty, seventy even and it wouldn’t even reach your ears. You couldn’t think with him this close to you, couldn’t force your brain to do the mental maths when the scent of his last coffee of the day lingered on his breath, the woody notes of his aftershave clinging to his shirt, deep grey ink drawn onto the inches of exposed tan skin.

“Dinners ruined,” Harry murmured, nodding his head back towards the hob, eyes still glued to yours.

“I’m not hungry,” you whispered, breath hitching as Harry moved closer. He cupped your jaw, running his thumb along your lower lip. And then he was moving around the corner, stepping into you as you opened your legs to let him closer. Your heart was hammering in your chest, eyes wide as you stared up at him.

Harry’s lips had barely met yours before the smoke alarm set off, barely given you a taste of him before he was across the kitchen, stabbing at the smoke detector with pain etched into his features.

Your eyes met when the wailing finally stopped, his frustration turning to amusement as he looked up towards the ceiling. “Maybe that was a sign,” he smirked.

You rested your head in your palm, brows knitted as you watched him lean against the sink, too far away from you. “Maybe we should follow the universes rules,” you whispered. “So you shouldn’t cross this,” you pointed to the breakfast bar.

“What if I need to get to that side of the room?” Harry countered, throwing his head back on his shoulders.

“You can ask me to pass you something.” But he was already moving closer, already rounding the countertop. And then his lips were on yours again, your makeshift barricade already forgotten. He was stronger this time, his tongue faster as it wrestled against yours, the sweet nectar of his mouth like honey as he kissed deeper into you.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you whispered, pulling away for a second to catch your breath.

“No, we shouldn’t,” Harry echoed, pressing fervent pecks to your swollen pout.

“It’s really bad.” The words were tumbling out like a reminder to you both, your brains final plea for some display of sanity before it went too far.

Harry’s hands were wandering over your body, his eyes locked on yours as his mouth trailed down your neck. “I fear the line is too far behind us now,” he murmured, husky voice muffled against your throat. You were sure he could feel your heart working overtime to try and calm itself down, thumping against the walls of your ribs as if it were about to break free.

“I can’t see it”, you mumbled, tangling a hand in his hair. You were panting, your mouth gaping open as Harry’s fingertips clawed and kneaded at your doughy hips, his other hand cupping the nape of your neck. His mouth was magic, his tongue grazing over the spots his teeth would nip as he moved further down your body. It was as if he’d been starved for years, your skin his lifeblood, the food he so desperately craved.

But footsteps at the top of the stairs broke your spell, you and Harry forced to tear yourselves away from each other like repelling magnets. You could see the regret in his eyes, the hesitance of his touch as it left your body. He stumbled across the room to the sofa, throwing himself down as if physically pained to be out of your reach. You forced a smile onto your mouth, straightening out your skirt as Courtney rounded the corner into the living room.

“Nice night?” you smirked.

“I was just explaining to Josh that we’re being responsible now. Which means no sleepovers with boys you meet in bars, especially when you have classes the next day,” Courtney shrugged, putting on her best puppy dog eyes for you.

“I’m not your mum,” you laughed, turning to face her properly. “If you want to stay then stay.”

Courtney’s eyes flicked to Harry, as if waiting for him to tell her to leave. “Stay,” he told her, raising his eyebrows suggestively to Josh. “Even if it’s a bit weird,” he mumbled, low enough for only you to hear.

“Text me!” you called after Courtney, though her and Josh were already running back up the stairs for round god-knows-what.

“You can stay too if you like,” Harry told you, settling back into the sofa cushions.

“Mmm, maybe not. One boundary crossed in a day is enough, no?” you shrugged, busying yourself by fiddling with a loose thread on your tights.

“Who said anything about crossing boundaries?” Harry smirked. He passed your jumper to you when you rolled your eyes, grabbing his keys from the side table as he stood up.

-

The air was tense when you got in the car, only speaking to direct Harry to your flat. His fingers danced along your thigh at every red light, his eyes lingering on you every time he glanced to the left.

“It’s just here,” you murmured, gesturing to the building ahead of you. You didn’t know why you kept talking yourself out of something you so clearly wanted, something that came to you both so naturally. It was right with a hint of wrong, wrong with a little right. But you couldn’t shake the feeling of his lips on yours, the taste of something you so desperately craved.

Harry pulled into your driveway, questions written all over his face. You looked at him wordlessly, setting your hand on top of his.

“Do you trust Courtney?” he asked, rubbing his temple with his free hand.

“With my life.” It wasn’t Courtney finding out that bothered you, and he knew that. If you were sloppy, anyone could see you together and realise what was going on. Or worse, other students could find out and use it against him in the very way he’d accused you of. Or worse still, you could be only one of many students he did this with.

“Then as long as we’re careful, there doesn’t have to be consequences,” Harry murmured, somehow knowing exactly how to dispel all of your worries. “Unless you’d rather leave it where it is. No harm, no foul,” he offered, squinting slightly as he tried to gage your reaction. He so desperately didn’t want to leave it, to put it aside as a twenty-four hour romance, never to be spoken of again. But it was clear that neither of you wanted to suffer the consequences.

“I don’t know if I can just close that door,” you sighed, the thrill too addictive to put aside. “Keep an eye on Courtney for me, please,” you whispered, slipping out of the car before you could manage to confuse yourself further.

He stayed outside until you get in the door, a small smile playing on his lips. You hadn’t wanted to leave it, and you weren’t trying to get something out of him. It was still dangerous, still as threatening to both of your lives, but you were both in it.

—

You’d barely met Harry’s eye for the entire class, willing yourself to forget he was that hot before your foolish desires turned into something unforgivable. Even still, your legs had carried you to his office at the end of the day with urgency. The warm glow of his lamp was too familiar, the woody aftershave you could smell from outside the door too inviting. You stepped into his office silently, pushing the door closed behind you.

“Hi,” Harry smiled from behind a stack of papers. He watched as you pulled out the chair in front of his desk, dropping into it with a content grin. “I had a very fun chat with Josh this morning.”

“I bet. What did he say?”

Harry halved the papers in front of him, placing the smaller pile in front of you. His fingertips brushed against your hand as you reached for the top one, lightning bolts streaking through your skin from the point of contact.

“That I’m a creep. And someone should’ve told him yesterday,” Harry grinned, reluctantly moving his hand away from yours.

“Did Courtney not say anything?” you laughed, screwing your face up as you imagined that conversation. Harry shrugged, running a hand through his tousled hair.

“I can’t believe she’s stayed at your house,” you cringed, nose wrinkling as you thought about it. It was enough of a boundary crossed to stay there if you were sleeping with him, but to have your professor know you’d been having sex under his roof… eurgh.

“You could’ve stayed too,” Harry murmured, shifting his marked papers to the empty space beside him.

“You know I couldn’t, Harry.”

“Remind me of your reasons.”

You turned the name plate on his desk round to face him, pointing at the word ‘professor’ with raised eyebrows.

“That didn’t stop you kissing me.”

“It was an act of charity!” you protested. “How can you turn down an old, lonely man who keeps trying to kiss you?”

Harry chuckled, leaning his forearms on the desk. “I’m old and lonely now?”

You nodded, a tiny smirk emerging as you chewed on the end of your pen. The more you got to see the playful side of Harry, the more you needed him. He seemed to have just the right dose of everything you wanted, your perfect man right in front of you and yet just out of reach.

“If that’s what it takes to kiss you, I’ll gladly be the oldest and loneliest man in the world,” he mewled, eyes sparkling as he leaned closer, his grin only centimetres away from you.

But then came a knock at the door, leaving you both springing away from each other once again. Harry cleared his throat as he walked over, straightening himself out as he tried to come up with a million plausible reasons why you would be in his office.

You craned your neck to see who had chosen to interrupt that moment. It another student from your class, asking about the assignment he’d set that day. You’d never spoken to her much, and from the way she was flicking her hair at Harry, you probably wouldn’t push for a friendship. Something lit up inside of you when you watched how professional and curt he was with her, a far cry from how he’d ever acted around you.

He got rid of her fairly quickly, wishing her a good weekend. Harry slammed the door behind him, giving it a second before walking back towards you. He stopped in front of your chair, crouching down just centimetres away from your face.

“I have a proposition. I think my house will be occupied this weekend, and it doesn’t seem like luck is on our side here. Why don’t we go somewhere? Out of the city obviously. If you’d like,” he was blushing slightly as he spoke, his fingers anxiously tapping on the armrests of your chair.

“That would be nice,” you smiled, the fire inside of you only growing warmer at the thought of spending proper alone time with Harry.

He leaned forward, pressing a quick and gentle kiss to your lips before flashing you a grin. “Sorry. Just had to do that once,” he mumbled.

You watched as Harry circled around his desk, hips swaying in mock seduction when he felt your eyes on him. “Did you ever notice me before?” you asked, curiosity lacing your words.

“Of course I did.”

“No, like, notice me, notice me,” you were gesturing wildly, hoping he’d catch on to your insinuation. Asking a man if he ever fancied you was embarrassing even for you, never mind if you had to physically spell it out for them.

“I never thought about you that way, if that’s what you’re asking. You’re my student, it never crossed my mind,” Harry told you, placing his glasses at the of his nose as he resumed grading.

“But now?”

He paused for a moment, gaze dripping with lust as it dragged over your face. “Now… I am beginning to think about you that way.”

‘Beginning’ was good enough for you. You leaned back in your chair, lips curling into a satisfied smile as you fiddled with the pen cap, anticipation coursing through your veins.

“You realise you’re supposed to be helping me? You’ve only graded about four papers,” Harry teased, head nodding towards his towering ‘finished’ pile.

You thumbed through your pile, counting under your breath as Harry watched with an amused smirk. “Five, actually,” you shot back.

Harry’s only response was to raise his eyebrows, arms folded across his chest as he leaned back in the seat. “You shouldn’t be rushing me anyway. The longer I take to grade, the more time you spend with me,” you grinned.

Harry stood up again, circling around the desk to tug your chair - with you still in it - next to his. You looked over at him as he sat back down, his eyebrow raised as an amused giggle bubbled out of you. “You’re clearly distracted by looking at me,” he shrugged, grinning as you slapped a hand over your mouth to stop the laughing fit.

“Now I’m more distracted by my proximity to you,” you grumbled, tearing your eyes away from Harry to stare back at the paper. That lasted all of 5 seconds before you were turning to face Harry again, knocking your pen against his shoulder to get his attention back on you. “Since you never replied, do you not want me to take forever, so you get to spend all that time with me?”

“Do you think I’m ever going to run out of papers?”

“You could always stop setting assignments,” you shrugged.

Harry swatted at the tip of your nose, his eyes bright behind his tortoise shell glasses. “You are just full of suggestions that all end in me being unemployed.”

“You chose this career,” you murmured, voice faltering as Harry placed a finger under your chin, pulling you up to face him properly. “I wouldn’t mind if you took forever,” he smiled, his eyes dark as they landed on your mouth.

Harry’s thumb was running across your bottom lip, swiping a tiny bead of spit over it until the rosebud skin was reflecting the glow of the lights. Your heart was hammering in your throat, almost willing someone to catch you in such an innocent yet inexplicable position. You stayed frozen for a few minutes, eyes caressing every shape on the other’s face, until Harry sucked in a deep breath, springing to his feet. “Let’s go,” he grunted. “Walk over to the bus stop and meet me there.”

-

“Are you kidnapping me?” you laughed as you slipped into the passenger seat.

“Damn. You got me,” Harry grinned, his smile not quite hiding the frustration in his eyes, his eyebrows knitted as he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “Couldn’t take one more second in that fucking office,” he groaned, tires squealing as he sped away from the bus stop.

He was a man on a mission as he raced across town, desperate to put as much distance as he could between you and the university. You stayed silent, the anticipation threatening to burst out of you if you dared open your mouth.

You couldn’t help but feel a sting of disappointment as he pulled up in a secluded car park, any signs of life obscured by overgrown bushes and trees. You so desperately wished for Harry to take you home, to do the things that you’d dreamed about.

He lead you over to a bench just behind the trees, wildflowers and unkept grass tickling at your bare legs as you set next to him. He was still silent, brows still knitted in frustration as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, flicking open the lid and holding it out to you. You took one, eyes flitting between the box and Harry’s face as he watched you.

“Only when I’m stressed,” Harry murmured, answering your puzzled look. You handed the lighter back to him, turning to face him fully as you exhaled the first drag. “And you’re stressed why?” you asked, watching the frustrations fall from his face as a wisp of smoke trailed over the pair of you.

“Because you’re dangerous,” he smirked, watching the ash fall as he tapped the cigarette. The remnants of chipped nail varnish on his fingertips, the prominent veins in his strong hand. You never thought watching someone smoke could turn you on, but the growing wet patch in your panties was proof that there wasn’t a thing Harry could do that wasn’t overwhelmingly sexy.

“How?”

Harry turned his attention back to you after a beat, resting an arm behind you on the bench. “Because you look at me like that,” he groaned, his voice husky as he spoke. “You sit there with something so filthy yet innocent in your eyes, making me want you when we both know you’re out of reach.”

He dropped his cigarette at his feet, stumping it out as you took a final drag of yours before mimicking him. “I’m not out of reach,” you whispered, reaching up to push a curl from Harry’s face.

“I can’t have you,” Harry murmured, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and pulling until you were straddling his thighs. His hands found your hips as you settled on top of his bulge, the cotton of his trousers melding to the slick coating your panties. You wrapped your arms around his neck, relaxing into his touch.

“You already do.” You knew what Harry was saying. You just couldn’t bother caring any longer about who might see you, or what would happen when you’d given him your all and yet couldn’t take it any further. He was exactly the kind of person you shouldn’t get involved with, and if you were a better person, you would have paid attention to that rather than finding yourself perched atop his thighs, leaning into his mouth as he pressed urgent kisses to your neck.

His fingers traced a question along the neckline of your jumper, his green eyes pleading with yours to let him uncover more of you. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t function for a second longer unless Harry released some of the energy built up inside of you. All you could do was grab a hold of the curls at the nape of his neck and hope what Harry saw in your eyes was permission.

He wasted no time in yanking down the top of your jumper, taking your bra with it until your nipple was exposed, inches from his lips. You ground down on his hips as he took you into his mouth, breathy moans clawing their way out of your throat as his tongue swirled around the pink bud. His hand was squeezing as he suckled, the perfect blend of hard and soft. Your whole body was electric, lightning bolts sending shudders through your system from where he touched you.

Harry’s lips popped off your nipple, his fingers still groping and massaging the exposed skin of your breast. He kissed his way back up to your jawline, his free hand slipping under your skirt. “Gonna do so much to this body when I have the time,” he murmured against your lips, pushing his hips up against yours. The moan that slipped past your parted lips was animalistic, your fingertips clawing for a hold on Harry’s crumpled collar.

You let his forehead push against your cheek, putty in his hands to be molded to whatever he needed you to be. His lips met yours with pure desire, your whole body limp as you succumbed to him. His lips, his touch, his cock throbbing under your core, it was too much to bear. The evening breeze that trailed over your exposed skin barely made a dent in cooling you down, did nothing to alert you to where you were or who you were with.

You reached down, leaning back until your shaking hands met the cool metal of Harry’s belt buckle. His hips bucked, nudging his clothed tip closer to your core, drawing a deep moan out of him when your fingertips brushed over his length. “Not here, princess,” he groaned, sinking his teeth into your swollen bottom lip.

You wanted to touch him, to make him feel as needed as he did to you, to feel the burn as his cock broke through your walls. The disappointment that throbbed through your core was short-lived though as his fingers moved to your entrance, plucking your panties to the side as your slick coated his lap. You were soaked through, ready for him in a way that you’d definitely be embarrassed by later. His fingertips had barely grazed you, yet you were writhing and panting as if you’d never been touched before.

You dipped your head onto Harry’s shoulder, reluctantly pulling your hands away from his hips as he presses his thumb against your clit. Your gasp was quietened by your lips pressing into his collar, your teeth tugging against the material as he rubbed slow circles over your sweet spot.

You barely managed to croak out a plea for more, your voice failing you as every muscle in your body contracted, your walls begging for Harry to touch you deeper.

He answered with a groan, shifting you in his lap until two fingers sunk into you, piercing through the tension in your core. You were rocking against his hand, lips ghosting along his jawline as you chased the high you were already so close to. Every buck of your hips pressed your clit into his palm, the contact making your hair stand on end. He was electric, his fingers fucking into you with a power that almost had you fearing what he could do in bed.

You were burning, your heart pounding in your ears. It was too loud, the sound of your slick, your moans and Harry’s breathless pants mixing together in a filthy symphony spurring you closer to your release. You wanted more of him, for him to fuck you in every way possible, but it was overwhelming. You couldn’t focus, pleasure rolling through your body in waves as his mouth found your nipple again, the added sensation pushing you over the edge. You were too weak too hold on, too close to do anything other than succumb to your high, tensing in his hold as you cried out his name.

It echoed around your mind, your eyes screwed shut as he rode you through it, your inner walls clamping down on his fingers. Your thighs were still trembling as he pulled his hand from your core and pushed his fingertips past his lips, sucking every bit of your come from them.

You were frozen, staring at Harry through heavy eyes with the ghost of a smile curling the corners of your mouth. You felt lifeless, trapped inside a body that didn’t feel like yours, even as he tucked your exposed breast back into your jumper and pulled you into his chest. You’d given him everything you had, and you’d happily stay on that bench in your blissful bubble for the rest of your life.

“Should get you home,” Harry murmured, his voice as he pressed a kiss into your hair. You hugged him tighter, unable to get up and walk away even if you wanted to.

eee guys what did you think ?! this was a bit choppy and weirdly written but 🤪 it will all come together in the next part

taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @vonnexann @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @harryshotpocket @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7 @harrystylesluverrrr @cohnfusedarling @ell0ra-br3kk3r @stylesfever @stylesbrock @harry-nialllover @fanfic-whore

[authorhjk1]

I’ll try my luck in requesting.. Plot is, reader asks SNSD Yoona who is his gf to dominate him femdom style.. I’d want to see kinks like pegging and well.. To be honest body worship especially armpits.. Thanks for reading and if you choose to decline it, all good.. But I really wish to a great writer’s take on this humble request of mine..

Submitting to her

(Lim Yoona X Male Reader)

This is how everyone sees her. Lim Yoona. One of the younger members and the center of Girl's Generation. Most of the time a cute, playful sunshine. But when it comes down to it, she can also be fierce and borderline sexy.

But no one will ever be able to see her, how you see her. That is something no one will ever know.

You met Yoona about a year ago for the first time. You couldn't believe she actually walked into the bar you were working at. It was a very expensive and prestigious one, yes, but you didn't really think of Yoona as big bar goer.

And you were quickly proven right. She was only there, because of one of the two friends she was with, was celebrating her engagement.

The three women were sitting at your bar the whole night, chatting away and drinking more and more of your most expensive liquor. While you were serving them and the other guests as well, the newly engaged woman seemed to have drunk too much. First, she kept on showing off her ring to Yonna and the third woman, but as the night grew longer, she also started to flirt with you.

You thought nothing of it at first, blaming it on the alcohol, but she got more and more into it. You could tell that Yonna was getting a little uncomfortable at her friend's behavior, but she didn't say a word.

"Would you mind mixing me another cocktail, babe?"

Yes, you did mind. And no you didn't like the fact she called you increasingly worse pet names. Blaming the alcohol would have been only a sorry excuse at this point. You could already tell that her future husband would probably catch her cheating at one point. It was so clear it could've been written on her forehead.

Eventually, her and Yoona's other friend went to the bathroom. The rude woman definitely drank too much. And while you were wiping parts of the black granite surface of the counter, you were hoping she wouldn't completely ruin the ladies' room.

You heard Yoona groan, after she took the last sip of her cocktail.

"Would you like a refill, Miss?"

To your surprise, Yoona suddenly glared at you.

"Oh, please, lover boy. Don't pretend like you would say no, if she asked you to spend the night with her."

You felt that was a little out of the blue. But the alcohol and her being annoyed by her friend, probably made her search for some kind of release.

"I would say no."

You would never sleep with another man's girlfriend, wife or whatever.

"Really? Why wouldn't you, huh?"

You suddenly felt trapped. Was that a trick question? Did she want you to mess up, so she could let out all her pend up frustration on you?

"Never mind, I'm sorry."

Yoona cut you off, before you could answer.

"It's just... I'm always too busy, you know? Barely free time, no time for dating, or a boyfriend and especially no time for a husband."

"Another cocktail it is, then."

Yoona chuckled as you started to mix the same cocktail she had before.

"You're really good at that, you know?"

"I hope so, I've been doing this for years."

As you added your finishing touches, Yoona let out another sigh.

"You are still young, so take some advice from me. Make sure you find the right person to be with. Don't wait as long as I have."

"I'm sure there are a lot of good men out there, who would like to go on a date with you, despite your busy schedule."

Since the granite surface was a little bigger, you let her new glass slide over the stone. It came to a hold just in front of her. You leaned over the counter and reached behind her ear.

Yoona slightly backed away, but you pulled back already, holding a small cocktail umbrella in your hand.

"Myself included, of course."

You blew on the umbrella, opening it up, before you let it fall into the drink.

You usually weren't that straight forward with guests. But this wasn't a usual guest. This was Yoona.

"That was smooth."

She playfully wiggled her eyebrows as she acknowledged your skill.

"Like I said, years of work and experience. Once I start something, I only finish once I perfected it."

"I like the sound of that."

Her smile was warm, but at the same time a little seductive. Her eyes sparkling with amusement, but also looking at you as if she was searching for something.

You later asked about that moment.

"I liked you. You looked handsome. And I wanted something she couldn't have."

That was her answer. Almost the perfect way to describe the start of your relationship.

"Although I don't have a man, I do have needs. I don't have enough time to date, but I can definitely make just enough time to take care of those needs."

You were surprised at how hopen she suddenly talked about herself. You were still in a public place.

"I could use someone like you. Dedicated to a task. Not stopping until he is satisfied. I would repay you of course. How much money do you make?"

While you were standing there, totally bamboozled by her sudden offer, you realize you could've seen that coming. Yoona is lonely, doesn't have time for a proper relationship and has more than enough money to find herself a sugar baby.

And for some reason, you did like the sound of that. Her terms were clear. Wherever and whenever she wanted, you would do your best to worship her entire body, make her feel good. But for that, you would have to quit your job.

"Don't worry. I will pay for everything you need."

While you were still debating on saying yes or no, her friends came back. They were eventually done drinking and were about to go home.

Yoona gave you one last look.

Decide right now, or you will regret it for the rest of your life.

You quickly wrote your number on a napkin and gave it to her.

The dynamic in your relationship was clear from the get go. Yoona was literally your sugar mommy and paid for everything, while you were tasked with pleasuring her better than anyone had ever before. Outside of the bedroom, she was the dominant one, but when it was about sex, you were the one who took care of her.

After staying at her place a couple of times, you, unconsciously, slowly started to move in with her. It started with a toothbrush and it ended with your computer and desk in her guest room. Not that Yonna minded at all. The living together and sleeping together, made it impossible to not start developing feelings. And finally, after ten months of sex with no strings attached, you both agreed on your new status of your relationship.

"10 Minute break in twenty minutes. Need you."

A simple text from your now girlfriend and you are on your way.

You enter the SM building slowly after, making your way to one of the smaller rooms on the third floor. As soon as you walk in, Yoona crashes into you. You haven't seen her since this morning. She looks just as good as she did then.

As soon as you saw her outfit this morning, you knew this is gonna be one of those days. She doesn't have them often. But on those days, she sometimes shows you a side of her no one can know about.

Most of the time, the power during sex is equally distributed. Sometimes it's Yoona, who leads, sometimes it's you. But most of the time, the two of you are equals. Yoona isn't the kind of woman who loves to get fucked like a cheap whore. She does enjoy you, being a little rougher with her at times, but never something too crazy.

And on rare occasions, just like today, you can see a fire burn inside of her. A fire that makes her lust and arousal grow immensely. Until now, she always had herself under control. But you do know, that if her self control breaks, you will be the one who will have to bear the consequences.

"Oh, fuck. I need your tongue so bad."

She whispers into your ear, after just having kissed the life out of you.

You lean down and push her hair behind her shoulders, before you start to kiss her naked skin. Yoona loves how you take care of her. How you worship her. To say that she has a praise kink is an understatement. More like goddess kink.

"You taste perfect, mommy."

Yoona purrs, at your words, letting out a satisfied sigh. Yeah, one of those days. You know you are doomed tonight, if you can't satisfy her well enough right now.

And at the same time, you don't mind at all. You actually welcome the idea of Yoona punishing you for doing a bad job. You want to find out what happens, when that fire inside her does take over her being. You are just not sure yet, if you can handle it.

Once you have dutifully peppered her shoulders with endless kisses, you pick her up and carry her towards the window.

"Oh, yes. I'm craving that. Oh, baby I'm so thirsty for your touch."

Yoona always turns into a mess, whenever you start to worship her like this. She loves it. And you do too.

After putting her down on the windowsill, you quickly start to take off her belt. This is just the right height for what you have in mind. Once her suit pants are around her ankles, you reach into her panties. The black lace traps your hand, forcing you towards her pussy.

"That's it, baby. Be a good boy."

Yoona moans in delight as she feels you pushing a finger inside of her. You lick your lips as you see her closing her eyes, ready to bring the second half of your plan to life.

While your left is slowly fingering her wet pussy, your right hand is now reaching for her wrists. Already knowing what you have in mind, Yoona gladly raises her arms. Standing next to her, you are greeted with the magnificent sight of her left armpit.

The slight sweat on her skin sparkles in the sunlight from outside. You unconsciously take a deep breath, enjoying Yoona's scent. After you spend hours after hours worshiping her entire body, you know how she tastes everywhere and how she smells too. Usually sweet, with a hint of sweat, because it's a hot day.

After taking another breath and pushing a second finger inside of her, you stick out your tongue and place it right underneath her armpit. Yoona lets out a deep moan. This combination has always made her cum pretty quick. And you have limited time right now.

The slight salty taste hits your taste buds as you use one long lick to move your tongue across her armpit.

"That's it, baby. Lick your mommy clean."

Yoona moans out loud as she feels your tongue now delivering longs swipes across her armpit. Your fingers in her pussy aren't idle and soon, Yoona succumbs to the pleasure you force onto her.

It takes you a minute or two to complete lick her armpit free of her sweat and just a little longer to reward yourself. The more you can have of her, the better. Yoona's sweat is now replaced by a small amount of your spit.

You change position as you keep your fingers inside her, your thumb now rubbing her clit.

"Hurry, baby. If you don't make me cum..."

Her whispered threat is interrupted by your tongue, finally reaching her armpit on the other side. The saltiness seems to be a little bit more prominent on this side. You gladly lick it all up, while Yoona starts to buck her hips against your hand.

"Damn it!"

She sighs heavier as her breathing becomes faster.

"Make me cum already."

Her heightened arousal makes her a little more aggressive today.

You keep on licking her skin and fingering her pussy. You know that she is slowly getting there. Maybe a couple of licks more. Or maybe a third finger...

"Yoona?"

You stop immediately as you hear someone outside the room. Yoona holds her shakey breath.

"Y-Yeah?"

"We have to get going now."

"Give me a minute, manager-nim!"

Yoona quickly urges you to pull your fingers out of her. As if you wouldn't have thought of that yourself.

"This isn't over."

She looks up at you with that fire in her eyes, once she is done making herself look presentable.

"As soon as I'm home..."

She let's that threat linger in the air as she walks out of the room. Yes, this is one of those days. But today seems more intense than usual. You wonder, if you asked for it, would Yoona let that raging fire consume her? Would she let go off her primal instinct and use your body for her pleasure, without thinking about you?

A shiver of anticipation runs down your spine. What do you have to do to make that happen?

You know that Yoona will be busy for the rest of the day. You're sure she mentioned something about a magazine cover photoshoot, but you can't remember. Her schedule is stuffed with way too much events and appointments for you to know all of them.

And that's why she catches you by surprise, when she suddenly crashes through the door to her apartment.

"I have ten minutes."

It looks like she is on a break again. And it seems she came straight from the photoshoot. She is still wearing that outfit.

And you can tell by the fact, that she only came here for sex, that she is close to breaking.

You try to get off the couch you are lying on, but Yoona is quicker. The advantage of her skirt is, that she can just sit down on your face, without having to undress.

Barely ten seconds after she came home and your tongue is already buried inside her wet pussy. Yoona quickly holds onto your hair with both hands. Too impatient for you to find the proper rhythm, she just starts to ride your face. You have no choice but to lie there, enjoying the taste of Yoona's sweet pussy.

A minute passes. Then two. Then three. You do your best, trying to get her off as quick as possible. But that small voice at the back of your head starts to talk. What if...

Yoona breathes heavily and leans forward, trying to catch her breath, as she realizes that this isn't enough. Not enough for her to orgasm. Not enough for her to satisfy her hunger.

She quickly gets off your face, leaving you with trails of her juices all over it. Before you can react, your pants are already off. And a second later, Yoona has already straddled you, her pussy hovering above your cock.

"Oh, damn. That cock."

She sighs, her eyes closing in bliss as she impales herself on your cock. Without even thinking about it, one of her hands move towards your throat. She keeps riding you, her pleasure now increasing by the second. After almost getting caught earlier today, she really needs to find that high right now.

"M-Mommy."

She hears you coughing after calling her. Her eyes shoot open and she realizes that she has been choking you. Yoona quickly moves her hand away, an apologetic look in her eyes. She has never done that before. She never let herself go that far.

"Babe..."

She wants to say sorry, wants to apologize. And yet, a small part of her mind tells her to put her hand back on your throat. To make you cough, while she rides you like a dildo, not giving a damn about your well-being.

It scares Yoona for a moment. Those thoughts. But she can also see that you seem to know, what's going on inside of her.

Her eyes grow wide as you slowly start to nod your head.

No need for words. Yoona takes a deep breath, before she puts her hands back on your throat. For the first time, she starts to let go of herself.

You lie on the couch with wide open eyes. Yoona left barely a minute ago. It's hard for you to get up. You didn't expect her to go that hard. She rode you like her life depended on it. You were barely able to take it yourself, her pace and power were almost too much for you. Reaching for your throat, you grimace in pain. It's not that bad, but you don't need a mirror to know that that's gonna leave bruises.

You are glad you were able to cum, just in time, before Yoona came herself. You wonder if she would've cared about your orgasm at that point. Maybe not. But that thought alone almost makes you reach for your cock, which is still wet with her juices.

The rest of your day goes by without anything major happening. You are excited about what is gonna happen tonight. Despite having climaxed earlier, Yoona still didn't look very satisfied.

Trying to make time go by faster, you sit down in front of your computer, planing on gaming a little, until she comes home.

"Turn it off."

You almost have a heart attack, when you suddenly hear Yoona's voice. You didn't hear her come home.

"H-Hi, babe."

Her tone made it clear, that this day is still not over. The only question is, how rough Yoona is going to be with you.

Once you turn off the computer and look at her properly, you know what kind of sex she has in mind. She is now wearing a different outfit. Probably another one from her photoshoot.

"You look gorgeous."

You can tell she is holding in a smile as she leans down, to be at your eye level.

"I've had a long day..."

You get the hint as you stand up, just to walk her over towards the bed. Knowing you have the rest of the night, you start slowly. First, her hands. You kiss each of her knuckles and the back of her hands. She sighs, as Yoona lies on the bed, enjoying your work.

You soon move upwards, switching from one arm to the other, while you pepper her skin with kisses. It's smoothness takes your breath away every time. How can she be this beautiful?

Reaching her shoulders, you take a short trip to her collarbone, licking along it's length, before returning to her shoulders. Yoona lets out a satisfied hum. But you know that, at least today, this won't satisfy her enough. You move her arms away from her body a little, giving you access to her pits.

"Baby. I need to fuck you."

Yoona sighs, her first words since she told you to take care of her.

You know what she means by that. The fire in her eyes still there. As you dive in, licking her right armpit, you know that she is thinking about something far different from just riding you, like she did earlier today.

Yoona's fire urges her on to take control. To take you. To make you hers. And there's only one way you will truly be hers.

Yoona shifts around a little, while you keep worshipping her body. Once you're finished with licking her armpit clean, you kiss along her collarbone towards the other one, before diving in again.

Her hand finds itself in your hair as she lets out a heavier sigh.

"I need to-to take you. Now."

You realize that Yoona is approaching her breaking point. Should you push further? Ignore her real needs for just a couple of moments longer?

You eventually decide to be forward.

"You can do what you want with me, mommy."

You kiss her armpit one last time, before looking up at her face.

"Please. Be as rough as you want."

This is the only way for her to be happy today. To be satisfied. And you are more than willing to help.

"A-Are you sure?"

You nod your head yes.

"Do with me what you want."

You can see that dangerous fire flicker in her eyes. Yoona's inner voices are fighting each other. Eventually, she pushes you off of her, before she jumps off the bed. You watch her walk towards the big closet. Once she opens it, you can see what's lying on the middle shelf.

Four dildos, lined up and sorted by length. A belt, to make a strap on out of one of them, on their right. You gulp, knowing that there is no turning back now.

It's not like this your first time. Usually, at least one of you is in the mood for it. And you are the one, who decides which one gets used, before you start.

But you are very aware that Yoona is already using the one on the right. She put it on the belt already and is now tying it around her waist. The biggest one.

Her black outfit seems to fit the blue plastic perfectly. You don't choose that one very often. But now you know Yoona's true thoughts. The others aren't big enough for her taste.

"Strip."

She says, before even having turned around.

You hesitate for a moment. It's not that you don't trust her. It's the fact that you don't trust that fire within her. How far will she go...

Yoona's movement quickly makes you jump into action. As she turns around, you're just getting rid off your pants. She steps towards the edge of the bed as you take your shirt off.

Without a word, Yoona stares at you, lust burning in her eyes. She does a come hither motion with a finger, making you crawl towards her.

"Suck my cock, baby. If you don't want to get hurt..."

Yoona only used lube at the beginning. But after having tried this a couple of times, she started to make you suck the dildo first, before pegging you. Your own spit being the lubricant. That should've been a sign that something like this would come sooner rather than later. A sign you should've read.

You look up at Yoona as you open your mouth. Her fiery gaze stares back at you. You can't tell how rough she is going to be exactly. Should you be using a safe word?

But as Yoona pushes her hips forward, the blue dildo pushing past your lips, you realize that the time for setting a safe word has long past. You feel the plastic in your mouth, the unforgiving material dragging along your tongue. Yoona places her hand on the back of your head, holding you in place as she forces you to take it all at once. The tip slightly grazes the back of your throat, once your lips reach the base.

"Look up."

You do as your told. Yoona stares down at you, her face cold, while her eyes are burning. You catch her biting her lip slightly, before she moves her hips back. A moment later, she pushes them forward again. She starts to pick up the pace soon after, letting her other hand wander towards the back of your head as well.

Yoona is now fucking your face. Not as hard and fast as you occasionally do with her, but enough for you to cough once in a while. Due to her constant thrusts, the blue plastic is eventually covered in your saliva. Some of the liquid is already staining your lips and chin.

"What a good boy you are, sucking mommy's cock."

Up until now, you had both of your hands placed on the mattress, supporting your weight. Now, knowing how horny Yoona is, you reach forward with one hand. Since she is wearing a one piece, it was hard for you worship her whole body just now. So you try to make up for it by placing your hand between her thighs.

"That's right, baby. Mommy comes first."

Yoona slows down a little to make it easier for you to rub her pussy through the black fabric. Whenever you send really big jolts of pleasure through her body, Yoona thrusts forward uncontrollably. And soon, she is fucking your mouth again, while you try to pleasure her.

"Press harder."

You follow her orders, applying more pressure on her pussy.

"Fuck, yes!"

Yoona hisses loudly at the sudden increase of pleasure. Her hips move as fast as your hand, the two of you in a silent competition on who can go the fastest. It doesn't take long for Yoona to win as she forced herself inside of you exceptionally deep, making you gag and lose control of her your hand.

"Turn around."

She tells you, while you still recover from her sudden attack.

Once you do, you feel Yoona climb on the bed as well, kneeling behind you.

"If you are going to be a good boy and take it well"

Yoona leans over you slightly, the wet plastic pressing against your ass cheeks. It sends a shiver down your spine as you know very well what's next.

"I will reward you by letting you lick and kiss every single part of me."

It's an offer you can't refuse. For one, because you would do anything to get that opportunity. And two, because you are literally unable to refuse. Even if you would try, Yoona would just laugh at you.

You feel the dildo poke your butt hole as Yoona readies herself. She lets her hands wander over your cheeks, before she reaches underneath you. A moment later, her hand holds your cock, slowly stroking it.

"Don't cum too early, baby. Last time, you made a mess of yourself while cuming."

One would think that Yoona is just being considerate. But her tone says otherwise. It drips with her lust and you can tell that that's exactly what she wants. For you to lose control over your body as you cum.

Finally, Yoona slowly pushes forward. You breath a little heavier as you try to adjust to the new feeling.

"Relax, or this is gonna hurt."

Usually, Yoona would stop if you had trouble taking it and speak some encouraging words.

Not this time. Instead of waiting, she pushes the plastic tip past the ring of your muscles. You hold onto the sheets as Yoona slowly pulls you towards her, while she moves forward.

More and more of her length you take. Inch by inch, the blue dildo stretches your ass.

"Oh fuck, baby. Your ass looks so tight."

One of her hands squeezes your cheeks, while the other keeps stroking your cock. You grit your teeth as Yoona pushes further. Having taken this dildo a couple of times already, you can tell that you're halfway there. You feel every new inch drag past your muscles.

You feel fuller than before as Yoona keeps going. She doesn't stop, until you've finally taken it all.

"Good boy, taking all of mommy's cock."

Yoona whispers sweet nothings into your ear. You know that this only the calm before the storm.

Without asking if you are ready, which she would usually do, Yoona starts to pull out of you. Your hole clamps down on the plastic, not wanting it to leave your body. Just when only the tip remains inside, Yoona pushes forward again. She does this very slowly a couple of times, before she starts to pick up the pace.

It hurts a little as she becomes faster, but you don't complain. You can take it and you don't want to get on her bad side.

"Oh, damn. You're so hard already."

The whole time, Yoona has kept stroking your cock. She removes her hand for a moment and you hear her spit on it. Her now wet hand goes back to working your cock, while the plastic cock in your ass keeps moving back and forth.

Just as you are getting adjusted to the current pace, Yoona starts to fuck you faster. Some thrust leaves you breathless as she pushes your face into the mattress with her power.

"Mommy..."

You don't dare ask her to stop, but you need to warn her. You feel like you are losing control. Your thighs start to shake, your cock twitching a little.

"Not, yet."

You can tell she is gritting her teeth as she fucks you from behind. Both her hands are now on your ass as she keeps up the pace. Soon, she is pounding away with no regard for your comfort. The plastic inside of you drags along your inner walls and keeps splitting you open.

"Mommy..."

It seems that is the only word that you can force off your lips. As she takes your ass, you can tell that Yoona is really enjoying herself. Her nails are slightly digging into your flesh as she holds a tight grip on you. Apart from her breathing, which is now a little faster, you can hear her deep moans and an occasional grunt.

"Mommy, I think I'm gonna-"

You suddenly have a mouthful of the mattress. Yoona has pushed your head down to shut you up, ignoring your warnings that you're about to cum.

You can't help it. The plastic dildo in your ass keeps dragging along your inner walls as Yoona fucks you hard. You hiss, feeling slight pain, as she bottoms out inside of you.

You want to warn her again. Tell her you're about to cum on the sheets. But your words are muffled by the mattress, while Yoona keeps fucking you further into it.

"Don't cum too early, baby."

She mocks you, her hand finding it's way to your cock again. She squeezes it slightly while she strokes you faster and faster. Timed with her thrusts, her handjob pushes you further towards your climax.

Because you can't talk, you can do nothing but take Yoona's cock in silence. You feel your back arch as Yoona pushes your head even further into the mattress. It enables her to drive herself even deeper into you.

That's the final push you needed. You let out a deep moan as you climax immediately. Yoona's dildo feels even bigger now, her hand drains you of all of your cum. You can tell you've ruined the sheets, without even having to look.

"You've taken mommy's cock so well, baby."

Yoona leans down to kiss your cheek. For the first time today, she seems to genuinely care for you.

"Time for your reward."

You lift your head, once Yoona has removed her hand. You fall to the side, still breathing a little heavily.

Yoona uses your small break to untie the belt, before tossing it off the bed. She straddles you and leans over you with an expectant look.

You move your head upwards to lap at her armpits, cleaning her off the sweat that had just build up over the last couple of minutes.

"Get your tongue in there, yes!"

Yoona sighs in delight. You let your hands wander over her clothed back, trying to find the zipper. Once you do, you slowly reveal what's been hiding underneath her one piece.

You move from her armpits, over her collarbone, towards her chest. You suck on Yoona's nipples, once your reach them. She moans out loud. Her tits are quite sensitive, especially while you dedicate yourself to worshipping her body.

More and more of her skin gets covered in kisses, until you've been everywhere at least once.

"Make me cum, baby."

Yoona quickly strips off her entire one piece, now leaning over you completely naked. The sight makes you hard again already. She quickly lowers herself onto your cock. Just like earlier, she doesn't wait for you to adjust yourself. She quickly picks up the pace, using your cock like a dildo.

"Use your tongue, damn it."

She groans as you stop for a couple of seconds, because you are too captivated by her beauty.

While she rides you, you keep your tongue on the skin of her upper body. You make sure you don't miss a spot. Her tight midriff, her chest, her collarbone, her shoulders, her pits. All deserve equal attention as you do your best to reach each spot.

Eventually, the combination of your cock inside of her and your tongue all over her pleasure her too much, Yoona finally orgasms on top of you. Her body shakes as she rides out her high.

Once she comes down, you are surprised by feeling her getting off of you.

"Mommy-?"

You'd hoped she would allow you to stay inside her longer. Maybe even cum in her.

"You are not done yet."

Yuna turns around and lies on her stomach on top of you. She purposefully puts her feet in the direction of your face. You feel her lips wrap around your cock, while you dart your tongue out to get your first taste of her feet today.

As you shift around a little, you can tell that your going to be sore tomorrow. But it won't be too bad. Because once she woke up, Yoona will be the beautiful sunshine she usually is. You wonder how long it's gonna take until her next rampage.

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

Hi, everyone.

This is the first time I tried writing kinks like armpits and pegging, so the quality might not be as good as you expected. But I hope you were still enjoying reading it.

Stay healthy!

[lizandbo]

okie doks, so i would like a hc where bokuto, kuroo, and maybe tsukishima react to seeing their volleyball player! girlfriend play for the first time

i love your blog btw :) it makes me happy <3

Volleyball player!reader x kuroo, bokuto and tsukishima

I’m so so glad that my writing makes you happy, plus this ask is like 100 years cuz time management is not a thing for me

Masterlist

Tsukishima

Before I say anything else HE WILL LAUGH WHEN YOU MESS UP

When you tell him that you play volleyball he might not believe you until he sees it with his very own eyes

He would believe you but ✨trust issues✨

If you ever invite him to one of your matches he just either gives a glare and says a monotone “ok” or grunt in response 

But most times he goes to your games without you knowing 

Tsukishima wants to see when do your best without the pressure of people yk watching you

Cuz honestly I feel that wholeheartedly 

But man when he does see you?

Bros gonna explode from being flustered 

He thinks that you honestly look really hot, but he never ever gonna say that

Not even when he’s being held by gunpoint, which honestly who would ask that question if you were being held by gunpoint?

Anygays 

He just appreciates your work ethic in volleyball

Not being too annoying and obnoxious about volleyball or not giving a fuck with his standards 

Nice balance 

and at some point you motivate him to push on his own hobbies (more so volleyball)

When you catch sight of him you whip your head around to get a double take almost getting whiplash in the process

He just covers his mouth and snickers by the confusion of your face just now realizing that he did attend your match after all

You shuffled up to him half bashful half excited to see tsuki

You wrapped your arms around his middle and he stared back to, giving you a little headpat 

“Sooo how did I do? Since you’ve been stalking me like a dimwit”

“You did better than last time ig, moron”

“You were here last time too??” 

“Now see your the dimwit here since you didn’t even realize I’m coming to your stupid games”

“Awww tsuki I thought would’ve never be here:(“

“Your an official dimwit” tsukishima says with a blush darkening 

Bokuto

He knew you played volleyball cuz he always has asked you how was your day? Every single fucking day

Even before you were dating

It might get a lil annoying sometimes but baby boy genuinely wants to hear about your day

Prolly at some point interrupts you by accident but once he realized he apologizes so damn much 

But a simple “it’s ok bo” is enough for him lmao

ANYWAYS 

IS SO PROUD OF YOU WHEN YOU PLAY

ALWAYS YELLS LETS GO Y/N OR HEY HEY HEYYYY THATS MY S/O

Vvvv proud baby 

Whatever position you play he’s so so so supportive 

“Y/n! That’s such a great set im so proud of you”

“I KNEW YOU COULD DO SO WELL BABY”

“HEY HEY HEY! That spike was so accurate, you should have a kiss as an award! Come her baby”

“BLOCK THEM BASTARDS! YEAHHH”

When the match/ practice is over he’ll quite literally jump and attack you with a bear hug smothering you to absolute death

You guys go to your car him carrying you bride style  and finding a withered mess of half dead rose petals in the passenger seat cuz bo was so focused on seeing you than bringing the damn bouquet of flowers he was gonna give you

“Well… maybe I’m just distracted by incredibly sexy and hot partn-“

“OKAY BOKUTO, LETS JUST GET IN THE DAMN CAR”

“Your also very cute when you stammer like that”

“Booooo”

Kuroo 

Also a vvv proud baby

Found out by having the volleyball match delayed and you coming home late

Quite literally did the mom “and where were you?” Thing on you

But he was concerned for his baby cuz you could’ve gotten kidnapped

You told him that you were at a game of yours and he was appalled 

“And you never thought that I would like to go?” Pouts like a little girl in a playful way

“Well I just never thought you wanted to go since your always so busy”

“Bullshit, I’d do anything for you” he practically manhandled you onto the bed and cuddled there

“Oh really? Anything??” Your eyes sparkled as he met your eyes with a small smile

“Yes baby, anything. Your my one and only”

“Ok so would you do the dishes for me? Oh oh and cook dinner too that would be absolutely fantastic”

Rooster wasn’t too happy with that response smh

SKJDJDJD I GET SO DISTRACTED ANYWAYS

rooster baby would go to any games when he has free time 

Analyzes your movements a lot 

But he’s never deeply judging you in a negative way, he’s just observing 

Becomes your personal trainer but would never push you too hard 

Always after matches no matter if you win or not he’ll always have some version of “you did well baby, now drink some water I’m not letting you be dehydrated”

Always gives you a meaningful hug too

Kisses are also a definite must

One on your forehead, nose and three on the lips

It’s like a secrete combination just between the two of you

Even tho it’s not even like a lock or some shit

It always amazing him how you do certain things when your focused into your game

Sometimes laughs at how cute you are

Just being a proud parent boyfriend is all you need

[hsgucci94]

The frat boy’s girl

Word Count: 2.9K

A/N: not sure what this is but… hope you enjoy it!! x

masterlist

“Bye, Styles,” Y/N said, stopping in front of the bus stop, where their paths would now separate until the next morning, when they would reunite again in class for another day at college.

Harry had been texting all the way until that moment, and as soon as he heard her words he shoved his phone in the back pocket of his jeans and looked up at her. Y/N got momentarily lost in his eyes. As cheesy as it sounded, she couldn’t help it. His green, soft but daring gaze always got her mesmerised and forgetting for a moment where she stood in his life: right in the friend zone.

Harry Styles was this good looking, extrovert guy she ran into the first day of class. After a few lectures shared together, they hit it off and started hanging out either at the library or the caffe. Nowhere too fancy, but those moments were enough for the both of them to get to know each other a bit and for Y/N to realise that she only stood a chance with him if she was one of those sexy, long-legged girls that threw themselves at him at every party he got invited to, which were not few.

“You alright?” Harry asked her, frowning a bit.

“Uh-erm. Yeah, I’m fine,” she quickly replied, breaking out of her daydream. “Anyway, gotta go. Don’t miss me too much,” she added, slightly elbowing him with a sly smile on her face.

He laughed, and passed his hand through his hair, “Isn't that a hard task for you, sweetheart?,” he answered, emphasising the pronoun with an eyebrow raised.

She rolled her ayes as she tried to hide a smile, deep down wishing this playfulness between them was something more than just banter flirting. “Oh, it really got to your head, didn’t it? It was just one time, Styles. And I was drunk.”

“So?,” he walked the step that separated their bodies, his face now closer to hers, “Don’t drunk people always speak the truth?”

“Not me,” she said nonchalantly, pretending to be sincere.

But the gaze he had on her was making her nervous, the usual tingling that appeared on her stomach whenever he was close to her growing by the second. So she walked a step back subconsciously, which caused her back to hit the wall behind her. She was now trapped between the stone wall and his body.

“And what if I do? Miss you? Too much?,” he then asked, leaning in with a suggestive smirk.

“But you won’t,” her voice sounded lower than she expected, kind of showing the disappointment she felt in them, and cleared her throat to pretend that it had been intentional.

“But what if I do?,” he asked again, this time whispering, as if the wind could just take his words away if she didn’t react to them the way he expected her to.

“Don’t mess with me, Styles…”

“I’m not,” he shook his head slightly, still staring at her; his eyes jumping between hers trying to decode them. Months of being friends with her and he still couldn’t read her as well as we wished. “Fuck,” he mumbled, looking away just for a moment before turning his head back in her direction.

He hesitated at first, and then kissed her like her lips were air and he couldn’t breath. His lips fit on hers like they were made for each other, and for the first time since his last relationship Harry felt comfortable playing it safe with someone, and that someone was her.

***

The moment she hit send, she puckered her lips together and tried to contain a squeal. That Thursday was definitely one for the books, not only because Y/N had the guy she had been hung on for months kissing her in the middle of the street, but because he kind of seemed to be on the same page as her when it came to them. And that was definitely a reason to celebrate. So when Harry texted her asking her to go to a party with him that same night, she didn’t turn down the invitation like many other times before.

This time she would go, even if it was happening on a school night and she had class early the following morning. This was a special occasion, you could say.

Harry even offered to come pick her up and drive them both there, but Naomi, Y/N’s roommate, was going as well, so they made plans to arrive there together. Besides, she needed a bit more time to process the kiss and how things were between Harry and her at the moment. Yes, they kissed. Yes, they even had a little make-out session in the open. But that was it. After all that kissing, he hugged her in a way he hadn’t before, and then left as she waited for her bus home to arrive, still trying to wrap her head around whatever got into him to act like that towards her all of a sudden.

Was her crush on him mutual? Was it not and she had just now become another girl he had made out with? Those unanswered questions that were making her insecure flew around in her head as Nao drove them to the party, but as soon as she arrived there and spotted him, her mind simply went blank. She usually talked to Nao about how every part of her body paralysed whenever he was around, and how dumb she became whenever he asked her random questions that were not college related, only because he made her hella nervous.

Harry was standing close to the door, a red cup filled with unknown alcohol in hand as he talked to some guys. His usual black t-shirt, black jeans and brown Chelsea boots outfit was now combined with a red and black flannel, making him stand out among all those people. She looked around to see if she could find some else she knew apart from Nao, but of course she could not. The people she usually surrendered herself with were not big party fans, to be fair.

So there she was, in a frat party where she knew no one apart from her roommate, her roommate’s boyfriend Ryan and the guy she was friends with and who she had kissed a few hours before. Great. Simply great. Much to her disgrace, Nao and Ryan had already found each other and were now kissing like no one was watching. So Y/N was left alone, meaning she had to walk up to Harry and see if he wanted to be his guardian angel for the night. At least until her social battery ran out and was ready to go home.

“Hey,” she approached him, trying to sound confident even though she was currently so out of her comfort zone. The moment he heard her voice Harry turned around, the corners of his mouth lifting enough to show a small smile. That gesture was enough to ease Y/N’s anxiety.

“You came!,” he chuckled, “Was not sure if you’d stood me up this time, too.”

“Hey!,” she protested, although he was right to think there was a chance she would do that. After all, that was the first party invitation she accepted from him all year. “I’d rather do quieter plans, that’s all,” she shrugged her shoulder, smiling shyly.

He shook his head, this time smiling from ear to ear, because even though she didn’t enjoy crowds, she was now sharing the night with him. “These are my mates, by the way: Lindsay, Cameron and Jeremiah,” Harry then added, pointing at them as he said their names.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.”

“Hey. It’s so nice to finally meet you,” said Cameron.

To finally meet her? Had Harry talked to his friends about her?

Before Y/N could give it a second thought Harry grabbed her hand and guided her to the kitchen. That would have shocked anyone, that he had her hand inside his, but he did it quite often, specially when he had to make her go outside of the building because she’d rather spend her lunch breaks at the library than around campus.

The kitchen was empty enough for them to find a quiet place where he could fix her a drink.

“You’re gonna love it. Trust me," he assured her, grabbing the vodka and mixing it with the juice that had already been added to the cup.

Y/N loving an alcoholic drink? Yeah..., good luck with that, Harry. She was not very fond of drinking anything that wasn’t either water or coke. Zero, of course. She just didn’t enjoy the strong taste or the aftermath of consuming those other beverages.

“So what exactly convinced you to come here this time and not any of the other past ones?," Harry asked her.

“You,” she replied right away. He smiled, his eyes focused on his hands and the drink that was in the making in front of him. He didn’t want it to turn out too strong; just soft but tasty.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Your text was pretty convincing, to be honest.”

“Oh. My text did this?,” he looked her up and down to point out her presence.

“Well, your kissing helped, too.”

“That’s more of what I like to hear.”

“Of course you do,” she rolled her eyes, but while doing so she missed his cheeks blushing a bit.

He then turned his body to her, "Here. Try this." He handed her the cup and she took it, hesitantly. When she brought it to her lips and tasted it, she had to confess it was quite good. She could drink a few of those tonight. "Like it?," he rose an eyebrow, a cocky smile plastered on his face.

"Mm-hm," she took a another sip, passing her tongue over the corners of her mouth after. Yeah, it was definitely good.

"Cool. Now that you're settled for the party, let's got back in there," and he grabbed her hand again, his drink on his free one.

He walked ahead of her to make sure she could move through the crowd without feeling trapped or anxious, and soon they were back with Harry's friend, on the same spot. They were pretty nice lads, specially because they made sure she felt included by asking her questions about herself and telling her some of their crazy adventures of their almost-ending freshman year in exchange, which got her laughing out laud and causing Harry to smile while staring at her.

At some point he was feeling so good and so comfortable and happy she actually was there he felt like hugging her even from behind. That gesture had not been meditated; it just happened, and he enjoyed that more than the fact that her back was glued to his chest and he could rest his chin on her head and smell her shampoo without any effort. Him grabbing her hand was one thing, but him passing his arm around her neck as he pulled her to him was a completely different one.

“I’m too comfortable right now it’s scary,” she admitted, only loud enough for him to hear. His friends were arguing about something Jeremiah said; apparently it didn’t happen that way, or at least the rest of them didn’t remember it happening that way.

“Me, too,” Harry replied, and then caressed her ear with his lips, before whispering: “I want to kiss you again.”

His words caused her stomach to flip, but also her blood to momentarily freeze. She was not the type to make out with boys at parties, but she wanted to be his type. So she turned around to face him and tiptoed so that her eyes were almost at the same height as his.

"Hi," she said, shyly.

"Hi," he replied, chuckling a bit. And just when she thought he would close the space between their mouths and kiss her like he did earlier that afternoon, he said: "Wanna go somewhere?" She frowned. "C'mon, I think you'll like it," he added.

"Okay," she nodded.

By the time they were getting out of there, girls she had seen around college were staring at Y/N and their entwined hands as if she was stealing her man, so she looked somewhere else until they were both inside his car.

"Oh, yeah, you were right. I do like McDonald's," she spoke in a half-half-not sarcastic tone, seeing how he was directing the car to a drive-through.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head, "Oh, hush. This isn’t our final destination, just a little stop on the way. Plus, what else would be open right now other than Macas?"

He was right. It was past midnight and very few food places were still serving dinner at that time. She was a hamburger over pizza kinda girl, anyway, so it was fine.

"So you wanted to get us out of your frat party to grab McDonald's and come to the beach." Harry had just parked his car in front of the beach, which was solely and beautifully illuminated by the streetlights. Y/N was half-way through her hamburger, while Harry hadn’t started eating his yet, since he was not one to eat and drive at the same time.

"No," he calmly replied. He put a bunch of fries in his mouth and chaw them before saying: "I wanted to spend time with you alone. Without any disturbance."

That and the fact that he knew her well enough to know how little she liked partying. He wouldn’t tell her, but he had truly enjoyed seeing her join his plan and meeting his lads at his frat house. So after a couple of hours he figured it was time she got out of there. He wanted to talk to her, and didn’t believe the party to be the place to do so anyway.

"Wanna go skinny dipping?," she said out of the blue, catching him so off-guard.

"You skinny dip?," he lifted an eyebrow.

"I don't, but I also don't do most of the stuff I did today so why not add skinny dipping to the list?"

"Okay," he nodded, a smile peeking through his lips, "Alright. Let's go."

Harry didn’t even bother finishing his burger. They both got out of the car and started running towards the beach.

It was an early May night, and the summer weather was slowly making its comeback after 180 days of cold and rain. As Y/N ran towards the seashore, Harry following her right behind, she started to undress, leaving her clothing scattered on the sand. She left her panties on, though, and was discretely-not-so-discretely covering her bare chest with one of her arms wile sprinting towards the sea.

The faster she would get in the water, the better, she thought.

Harry figured he would leave his boxers on too, even though that wasn’t the purpose of skinny dipping. But then again, who cared? It was their plan, and therefore they were the ones making the rules. Whatever made her feel comfortable was fine.

When she was just about to get her feet in the water, he came running and grabbed her from behind, lifting her off the ground and earning a squeal from her.

"Harry!," she laughed, as the guy tightened his grip around her stomach, securing her in his arms, "Put me down!"

He chucked, and kept on running in the water until it reached up to his waist. He then stopped and let her touch the wet sand with her two feet.

"Why did you do that for?," she complained, facing him, and trying her best not to laugh or he wouldn’t believe she was pissed.

"You would have backed down once you felt how cold it was!," he laughed, and started tickling her on the sides.

"Stop!," she giggled, "And that's not true! I would have got in regardless." She giggled again, which gave away her little white lie.

"Oh, c'mon! I'm your best friend. I know you by now."

"You are?"

"Yeah. Is there anyone you have spent more time with this year other than me? I don’t think so," Harry chuckled, keeping on tickling her. He was right.

They have been thick as thieves most of the time. She bit the inside of her cheek, and Harry stopped the tickling. "What?", he asked, suddenly concerned he had hurt her.

"Best friends don't kiss."

Oh. He gulped at her words, and closed the little space left between their bodies, "Well..., that's because I want to be upgraded."

Y/N's breath got stuck in her chest. He noticed her sudden reaction, so before he could back down, he cautiously grabbed one of her hands in his and locked their fingers together. Harry then leaned into her slightly, and they sealed with their lips the pact that officially made them boyfriend and girlfriend.

Please, like & share if you liked it? it’ll help so much 🥺✨thanks!! x

full masterlist

[acknowledge-reigns]

Water | Solo Sikoa x BlackFem!OC | 18+!!!! SMUT

Description: Raya is really into Solo's new persona.

Song: Water by Tyla

Face Claim: Kat Graham

Warnings: Spanking, Hand/Glove kink, teasing, Dom/sub dynamic, use of panties as a gag, doggy style (and he cums on her ass), kneeling, degradation (use of the word slut), petnames (baby/babygirl), daddy kink, brat taming, begging, praise (good girl).

Check out my previous Solo x Raya story here and my entire Masterlist here.

Again, MDNI!!! THIS IS AN 18+ FAN FICTION. As always my stories are kayfabe based.

Solo Sikoa had been on a roll lately, and it was all thanks to his newfound confidence in the ring, and outside of it for that matter. With Roman Reigns on hiatus for the foreseeable future, he'd stepped up to take charge of SmackDown and become one of its most dominant Superstars even recruiting one of their many cousins, Tama Tonga to join the fray. He was taking this whole tribal heir thing a little more seriously than anyone had expected, especially Paul who quite frankly had no idea what to do.

And with all that confidence came a change in attitude as well: gone were the days when he played second fiddle or stood quite in the background. Now, he was taking what he wanted, living up to the lyrics of his theme song 'Taking it all...' and making sure everyone knew it too.

Raya, his girlfriend, really just couldn't get enough of those sexy black leather gloves and tight-fitting suits. Normally she could keep her cool but tonight she's wildin'. The jewelry. All of it. He was accessorizing now? The fuck? Since when? She thought to herself as she watched her man on TV throwing around Kevin Owens. Poor guy. But damn did her man look good fucking him up.

It was early Saturday morning when Solo walked through the door of his apartment after a late night flight following Smackdown, still riding high on the adrenaline rush from everything that had happened. He could tell by Raya's smile and playful attitude that she was eager to see him too, but there was something else in her eyes as well... desire? Need? She looked ready to jump his bones.

"Hey babygirl," he said casually as he kicked off his shoes and took a seat on the couch next to her having thrown his bags aside. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing much," Raya replied, her voice laced with a hint of flirtation. "Just thinking about how hot you looked out there last night." Solo smirked at that and leaned in closer to kiss her on the cheek.

"I missed you," Solo whispered in her ear, his hand slowly moving up and down her thigh. Raya shivered at the touch and turned to face him fully, a look of anticipation on her face. She had been waiting for this all day long, since last night, ever since she saw those leather gloves he'd been wearing. She'd fantasized about the feeling of them all over her body.

"You know, I was thinking about those gloves you wore last night," Raya said coyly. "I really liked the way they looked on your hands." Solo smirked and leaned back against the couch, letting his fingers trace along her skin as he thought about what she was suggesting.

"Damn, baby, my gloves did it for you like that?" Solo chuckled lowly.

Raya rolled her eyes playfully, trying to hide the fact that she was getting turned on by his teasing. "Maybe," she said with a sly grin. "Or maybe it's just you in general."

Solo leaned forward suddenly, his eyes narrowing as he grabbed Raya's chin and tilted her head up so that she was looking directly at him. "You just roll yo' damn eyes at me? think you need to be reminded of who's in charge here," he said firmly. "..'Cause it definitely isn't you."

"Now, I want you to be a good girl and get on your knees for me," Solo commanded. Raya's eyes widened at the sudden shift in his tone, but she obeyed without hesitation. She dropped down onto her knees in front of him and looked up at him with a mixture of excitement and anticipation... wondering what he had planned next. "Stay" He commanded before stepping into the bedroom rumbling through his bag for something.

The gloves. He slipped them on slowly as he approached her, making her pussy pulse with desire.

Raya watched with bated breath as Solo approached her, his big brown eyes locked on hers and the black leather gloves gleaming in the light. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest as he got closer, almost like a predator stalking it's prey. Solo stood in front of her, towering over her small frame as he stared down at her with an intense gaze. "I want you to beg me for what you really want," he said softly but firmly, his fingers tracing along the edges of the gloves on his hands.

Raya swallowed hard, her mind racing as she tried to figure out how to respond. She knew what he wanted from her but it was difficult for her to bring herself to say the words out loud... especially when he was looking at her like that. "Please," she finally whispered after a few moments of silence. "I want you." she added, "Want your hands all over my body."

Solo smirked at her response and leaned down so that his face was only inches away from hers. "I'm sorry, what was that?" he asked teasingly. "You need to speak up if you want me to hear you."

God dammit, she didn't know whether she should thank Roman or kick his ass when she sees him for creating this glorious monster in front of her. Raya took a deep breath and tried to steady her voice. "I want you," she repeated, louder this time. "Please... I need you."

Solo crouched down and gently cupped her chin, his gloved thumb brushing against her bottom lip as he stared at her intently. "Good girl," he murmured before leaning in to kiss her passionately. His hand slid down to the back of her neck, holding onto it firmly as they kissed for several long moments. Raya was feeling like she was going to melt into a puddle right there on the floor. He was only making her hotter

When Solo finally broke the kiss, he pulled her up to her feet and made quick work of removing her dress and bra leaving her in just her pretty little red lace panties before he led her over to the bed room. He pushed Raya down onto the bed gently and climbed on top of her, his body pressing against hers as he pinned both of her arms above her head with one hand singular gloved hand, while the other travels down her body cupping her breast.

Raya let out a low moan as Solo's hand traveled down her body, his touch sending shivers up and down her spine. She could feel the leather of his gloves against her skin and it was driving her wild, setting off her whole body.

Solo smirked as he noticed the way Raya was squirming underneath him, her body writhing with pleasure from his touch. "Such a dirty little slut. Bet you soaked." he whispered into her ear before biting down on her earlobe playfully. His hand continued to explore every inch of her body, tracing patterns across her skin and making sure to pay special attention to all of the sensitive spots that drove her crazy before finally reaching the waistband of her panties.

Raya gasped as Solo's hand slid underneath her panties, his fingers brushing against her sensitive skin. She could feel herself getting more and more aroused with each passing moment... every touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. He slowly teasingly slides her panties down her legs and thinks for a moment, the wet spot on then making him smirk. He chuckled a bit. "Open that pretty lil mouth, baby." Solo said.

Raya complies opening up for him, he stuffs her damp panties into her mouth, grinning satisfied with himself.

Raya moans softly as she feels her own fill up her mouth, the taste of herself on them making it even more exciting.

Solo smirked down at Raya, enjoying the sight of her with a mouth full of panties. "That's better," he said softly as he began to unbutton his shirt and toss it aside followed by his pants and boxers. He then leaned down and kissed her neck slowly, leaving a trail of kisses along her skin before moving back up to whisper in her ear again. "Do you like having your own soaking wet panties stuffed into your mouth?"

Raya's words come out muffled and unintelligible. Solo laughs and smirks. "Poor baby. Can't hear a word you sayin'. Shouldn't have decided to a brat earlier. Guess you just gon' have to take whatever daddy decides to give you." he teases.

Raya tried to say something in response but it was no use, her words were completely muffled by the panties that filled up her mouth. She let out a frustrated groan as Solo teased her and continued to taunt her about being a brat earlier... which was absolutely true. But that is neither here nor there.

"All fours, baby girl. Now." He demanded.

Raya quickly obeyed Solo's command, rolling over onto her hands and knees, her ass perched high in the air, her back arched just the way he likes.

Solo walked around Raya slowly, admiring her body and taking in every inch of it. His eyes traveled down to the curve of her ass. He ran a hand over it gently before slapping it harshly. Raya let out a yelp as Solo's hand made contact with her ass, the sudden impact causing her ass to jiggle for him, that damn glove adding something to the experience.

"That was for rolling your eyes at me." he said, "Thought I forgot or some shit." he chuckled spanking her ass again.

Raya groaned softly as Solo spanked her again, the sharp pain mixing with a sense of pleasure that she didn't quite understand. He was blowing her mind. Setting off her whole body. It was like he knew exactly what buttons to push to make her feel things she never thought possible... and it was driving her crazy.

Raya gasps as feels Solo enter her from behind, his cock sliding inside of her with ease. She lets out a low moan as he begins to thrust into her slowly.

Solo's movements become more intense as he picks up the pace, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he drives himself deeper and harder into her. She can feel herself getting closer to orgasm with each passing moment

Raya can't hold back anymore and lets out a loud moan as she climaxes, her body shaking with pleasure. She can hear Solo's breathing getting heavier as he continues to thrust into her, his movements becoming more erratic until finally, she feels him pull out of her shooting his warm seed all over her ass.

She collapses onto the bed, panting heavily and feeling completely spent but also satisfied in ways that she never thought possible. Raya lays on the bed, her body still tingling from her recent orgasm.

"Good girl," he whispers tenderly before laying down beside her and leaning down to kiss her softly on the forehead.

Yeah, Raya loved this new side of Solo. Roman and Cody could both expect a thank you card from her.

[imawreck]

Dress up

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Original Character

Summary: The two assassins prepare for a much awaited date.

Warnings: Self loathing/deprecating thoughts, brief mention of nudity, but other than that it’s tooth rotting fluff.

Word Count: 2,556

Snow-

There was a sharp knock at my door, dragging me back into reality and out of the old pages of the book I held between my hands. I set it aside and got off the bed, quickly making my way over to the door after a quick glance at the alarm clock. 3:00, more than likely Pepper. I peered out the peephole on the door, greeted with a smile from a prim woman on the other side. I pulled the door open, taking in her appearance.

She was beautiful. Well kept too, her blue blouse tucked into a black pencil skirt. She stood on two inch heels, making her just a bit taller than I was. "You must be Snow. Tony has told me quite a bit about you." Her smile warmed me as she spoke, "I'm Pepper, Tony's secretary. He sent me to get you a dress for an outing tonight?"

I nodded, "Hi Pepper, Tony talks about you all the time. Please, come on in." I stepped to the side to allow her entry. Her heels clicked against the hard floors as she made her way over to my bed to lay the bagged item over it. I shut the door behind her, "I don't know what to expect with this whole ordeal."

Pepper smiled kindly at me from the middle of the room, motioning me over with a wave of her hand. "Lots and lots of fun."

I joined her, taking a glance at the bag. "It isn't too... Tony style, is it?"

Pepper laughed at that, a light and feathery sound. "No, oh God no, I wouldn't let him do that to you. He asked me to pick it out." She reached over and unzipped the bag, allowing me to see what was inside. I touched the dark fabric, running my fingers over it a few times. "It's beautiful."

She nodded, lifting it out of the bag and holding it out in front of me, "You are going to blow him away."

I knew I was going to love Pepper from that moment on. I had told her I invited Natasha to join us, and shortly after I had mentioned the woman, she had shown up at the door with curious eyes and a catlike smile. "So, you have a date, huh?"

I gave her a playful swat, "Does everyone in the tower know?"

Natasha laughed, "Of course not, only the ones who pay attention."

I gave her a sour look, "Sure."

The three of us chatted while the two of them went through my closet of belongings to see what I could wear with the dress tonight. Natasha did, for the most part actually, while Pepper stood by and watched, commenting on certain items she thought would go well.

Before long, Natasha let out a frustrated groan. "You have nothing in here that screams sexy! Combat boots, cargo pants, long shirts, where's the skin?"

"I have a couple of cropped shirts in there, but I don't care to show too much." I shifted the back of my shirt down subconsciously.

Nat turned around, "Come on, you've got the body. Why hide it?"

I shook my head, "It's just not me."

She pursed her lips, "Well, you're going to need some better shoes at least. I have some boots that would look wonderful with that dress and by the looks of your closet, they'll be right up your alley too."

I raised a brow at her, nodding slowly. "Okay, just nothing too tall." I made a pointed look at her to make it final. She rolled her eyes and nodded in agreement before leaving the room.

Pepper had quietly gone through some of my other things, taking small notes on some things in a notepad before delicately shutting the drawers. "I'll go grab you one last thing you'll need, and then we will get you all situated with everything else." She gave me one last warm smile before slipping out. I turned around, grabbing the dress, and shut myself in the bathroom.

I hardly recognize myself in mirrors, not since the experiments. I didn't always look the way I did now. I once thought I was beautiful just like the girls I'd see on the streets. Long brown hair, warm blue eyes, innocent and bright and ready to learn to be like those men I had thought to be my idols.

I raked my eyes over my reflection, criticizing my blank hair and the scars adorning my face. I touched my temples, tracing the circular incisions with disgust.

Tossing the dress onto the counter, I stripped off the shirt I wore, averting my eyes from the mirror until I stood nearly nude in front of it. When I could brave a glance, I lifted my head to stare into the eyes of the girl in front of me.

Cold, silvery moons glinted back at me. They switched between ice blue and dead irises with each tilt of my head as I gazed over the scars remaining on my body from long before the serum. To this day, I could hardly stand to look myself in the eye for more than a few seconds at a time. My reflection just reminded me of everything that used to be before, and what I could never have because of what I was now. 

My fingers danced over the scar just above my hip, long and pink. The skin was shimmery on all of them, the serum had a hard time removing anything done prior to it's injection. Every piece of my time before it had remained etched into my skin to stay forever. I reached over my shoulders to trace over the stripes of raised skin at the base of my neck to the ones wrapping around my sides, reaching towards my stomach in sharp, biting angles.

I shook my head, gripping the end of the dress and tugging it over my head. It was form-fitting, stopping around mid thigh, nothing too much but definitely enough to show my more appealing features. The material was thick and warm, perfect for the weather.

I stepped out of the bathroom right as the two women walked through the door, their smiles bright as they looked me over. Pepper stepped up to me, handing me a piece of slim black fabric, "Spanks for your own comfort if you want them, and I brought you these." Pepper pressed the small container into my palm. "They're contacts."

I took them, nodding in thanks as I slipped them under the dress. "It's beautiful Pepper, thank you." I gripped the contacts in my hands, making note to put them in before I left.

"Of course, you look wonderful in it."

Natasha snickered from her spot against the wall, "Barnes won't know how to control himself. Tell me you're wearing something special under that." She sent me a wink.

I laughed, a little nervous and moderately embarrassed at her suggestiveness. "No, he and I aren't like that! I was surprised he even asked me." I could feel the heat burning my ears as I said it.

Another groan left her lips as she shoved off the wall and marched over to me. "Here, these will finish your look." She held out a pair of rather long grey boots with a small wedge heel. "They're too small on me, so you can keep them if they fit you."

I slipped them on, tugging them up over my knee, leaving a strip of skin between the end of my dress and the start of the boots. They lifted me just two inches, enough to show a difference from normal and keep me at a comfortable level just in case something went wrong. Pepper laid out a long grey coat and puffy cap out on the bed. "Now, would you like any makeup tonight?"

Natasha butted in before I could answer, "Tonight is a date, of course you do. Not that you aren't already drop dead gorgeous, but it's a special night."

I looked back to Pepper, shrugging my shoulders. "I haven't worn much since the thirties."

Both gawked at me, Natasha piping up from beside the other woman. "How old are you?"

I squinted at her, "Old enough."

Both of them stared for a beat later before Pepper clapped her hands, "Alright, we only have a few hours left so let's get this done."

_____

Bucky-

I had been watching the clock all afternoon.

I had trimmed my hair, evening out the longer strands and attempting to gel it as much as I could. I shaved, cleaning up my stubble around the edges to give me a more clean cut appearance. I didn't own a full suit, but I didn't feel like that fit me very well. So I threw on a white button up, leaving the top two open and dropping my dog tags below the collar. I tugged on some black slacks I had stolen from Steve as well as a pair of loafers. Searching through the closet, I picked out my leather jacket and threw it onto my bed before jogging into the bathroom to freshen up one last time before I left to pick her up.

I took one last look at myself, half turned away from the mirror, and realized how closely I resembled the man I used to be. Shaking it off, I turned, throwing on my leather jacket and walking towards the hall to the elevator. I tugged my fingerless gloves on after I shut the door behind me.

Just as I was about to start jogging out of nerves, Steve stepped out of his room right into my path. We collided, both of us reaching out to steady each other with a hand on the shoulder. He took me in, taking note of my clean appearance. "You're looking awfully sharp, what's the occasion? Tony throwing some party I don't know about?"

I laughed, grinning from ear to ear. "Not at all, I got myself a date.”

Steve's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "You got a date? Jeez Buck, I didn't even know you were looking for that sort of thing. Who's it with, someone you met outside the tower?"

I shook my head, shoving my hands in my pockets. "No, actually. I asked Snow this morning."

His face seemed to fall as I said it, as if confirming some suspicion he had. "That's great Buck, but are you sure that's what you want?"

I looked at him, my own smile falling just a little. "Yeah, she's great, why wouldn't it be what I wanted? She makes me feel human again. Normal, Steve."

Steve sighed, his shoulders dropping with the breath. "I just don't know about it, Buck. She's dangerous, unstable even. I'm just not sure she's what's best for you."

I could hardly believe what he was saying to me. "She is exactly what's best for me. Snow knows what it's like after you get out of Hydra, Steve. She understands what I have to go through, what I have to live with." Sharpness cut into my voice, "I have to go. I can't be late."

I had Friday notify Snow that I was pulling the car around the front of the building as soon as I was out of Steve's earshot. I hurried down to the garage where Tony kept his vehicles and clicked the unlock button until I located the car he had lent me for the night. It was a slick black 1965 Mustang, obviously taken care of.

I slipped into the driver's seat, gripping the leather steering wheel and admiring the red interior. I put it in reverse and pulled out, shifting it once more and pulling around to park right in front of the double glass doors of the Avengers tower. I stepped out, jogging around the front of the car and leaning myself against the side to wait for her to arrive.

Right at six, the glass doors swung open and out stepped a woman I hardly recognized. Long grey boots clicked against the pavement, a stripe of skin peaking out just above them before the hem of her black dress draped across her thighs again.

She was in the middle of tugging on a large grey coat, giving me a glimpse of the shoulder cut outs teasingly peeking out from under it. The dress had a turtleneck, the black fabric folded over once neatly around her jaw. Her white hair stuck out delicately from below a puffy black hat with a little bill slightly crooked. Her eyes danced across me, before meeting my own.

When she finally got to me, her smile was bright and her blue eyes pinned me with a humorous gaze. I could tell instantly that she had worn something over them, little flicks of green now tinted them. "Hello Bucky, you clean up very nicely."

I couldn't pull my eyes away from her delicate features as I lifted my hand to straighten out her hat. "You look stunning."

Her smile widened and I swore the light blush on her cheeks darkened. "Thank you. Shall we head out?"

I nodded, sweeping the car door open and gesturing grandly towards the vehicle. "After you, Doll."

Snow giggled, the sound spreading warmth like fire through me. I hustled around and joined her in the heated cab, having left it on for the engine to warm. I revved the engine and we were off, rolling down the main roads on the way to the outskirts of the city. My heart thrummed in my chest as we went. I gestured to the radio about a mile down the road, pulling Snow's attention from the car window. "Music? I have no idea what Tony has in."

She nodded, reaching over the same time as I did. Our fingers bumped together and both of us pulled away with a laugh. Snow patted my wrist, her eyes glimmering in the light, "I'll get it, you focus on the road." Her hands agilely clicked on the stereo and sat back.

Something old, really old, started to play out of the speakers and Snow's brows furrowed in amusement. I copied her expression, "What is this?"

Snow burst out laughing, her eyes crinkling and her lovely smile on full display, "I have no idea, but I'm certain it's older than both of  us."

I couldn't help but laugh with her as she cranked up the stereo and began to bob her head to the strange beat. "Tony sure does have a broad taste."

She nodded, still grinning, "You can say that again."

I pulled the car into the field beside the carnival along with the rest of the carnival goers. I stepped out of the car, jogging around to tug open the handle to the passenger door with what I hoped look like a charming smile.

Snow raised her eyebrows, gesturing grandly and dipping her head low in a bow, "Why thank you, sir." She lifted her eyes with a mischievous glint flickering in them.

I mimicked her, dipping my head and gripping an imaginary hat to tip at her, "My pleasure, Madame."

We both burst out laughing as she took my arm and we headed to join the line at the gates.

Tags<3

@imdoingathingmom / @cjand10 / @blackbirdwitch22

[berryeemmy]

Snowday Day

Mattheo Riddle X Reader

Summary: Reader begs Mattheo to play in the snow with her

Warnings: Fluff, pet names, mild frustration and smut. More like teasing

Author note: This is kinda cringy and messy but I thought it would be cute. I also didn’t really know how to end it

It was a chilly winter morning at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The snowflakes gently fell onto the castle's grounds, casting a serene silence over the students.

In the dimly lit light of Mattheo’s private dorm, he sat on his bed, staring out the window at the snow-covered ground. His dark curly hair was messily style, and his brown eyes seemed lost in thought.

Suddenly, you barged into his dorm in a big winter coat with fur on the hood, black leggings that hugged your curves perfectly, black gloves, a beanie, and pink snow boots. “Matty! Please can we go play in the snow? Just for a little bit?" You’ve always loved the snow ever since you were a toddler, and Mattheo knew that. But he wasn’t a big fan of the cold weather himself. Hence the reason you were begging him to go outside with you.

Mattheo’s gaze wandered over to you, he can’t help but smile at how pretty you are. But that smile quickly faded as soon as he heard those words come out of your mouth. He groans, “Do we have too?”

“You’d do it if you love me.” You pout giving him soft eyes.

He groans again. “You get me with that every time.” He grumbles getting up from his unmade bed.

You giggle excitedly “Hurry up!”

“Bloody hell I just got up women!” He chuckles grabbing his snow clothes from out of his bottom dresser drawer.

As soon as Mattheo put his last shoe on, you grabbed his hand a yanked him towards the door. As you run through the halls you both can’t help but giggle. You two have always had a silly and relationship.

Once you reach outside you immediately let go of his hand and run out into the snow covered grass to bend down and grab a snowball as you smirk at Mattheo.

“Don’t you dare.” He warns me. I just giggle “Okay then, get ready to get destroyed” He shrugs with a smirk on his face while he gets his snowballs ready.

“I’m not going to.” You respond while throwing a snow ball in his direction, hitting him right in the middle of his chest.

He let out a gasp of surprise as the snowball hit him, the cold snow making him flinch. "Oh, it's on!" He said, his competitive spirit ignited as he quickly scooped up some snow in his hands, packing it into a ball. "You just wait, baby. You'll be begging for mercy soon enough!"

He threw the snowball back at you, aiming with precision. It hit you square in the chest, causing him to laugh out loud. "Ha! Direct hit!" He exclaimed, reveling in his victory. "You're going down, babe. Prepare yourself!"

“Ow!” You fake being hurt.

He laughed, a playful glint in his eyes. "Aw, did that hurt?" He teased. "Don't worry, I'll make it up to you later.” He says with a cheeky smirk on his face. Winking at you.

“You’re so gross!” you tease.

“You love it.” He says while throwing another snowball, hitting you on my left shoulder.

“baby it’s not fair! You make them so much faster!” You pout.

He chuckled at your pout. "Well, I've had more practice," he said with a slight smirk. "And let's not forget, I do have a pretty impressive throwing arm." He flexed his arm playfully, emphasizing his athletic abilities.

“You don’t even like the snow!” You say, tryung to get a look at his muscles through his big snow jacket.

“Yeah but I did growing up.” He states. “Are you checking me out?” He smirks

“Nooo.” You giggle.

“Oh I think you are, you just can’t get enough of me and how sexy I am huh?” He smirks

“Someone’s confidence.” You state.

“Of course i’m confident when I bagged a girl like you.” He winks as you blush slightly, your cheeks already red because of the coldness. You respond with a smile on your face as you bend down to make a snowball.

He watches you playfully, crossing his arms “Go on, take your time. I already have 10 waiting for you.”

“Ugh!” You yell.

He chuckled. "Oh, don't be like that," he teased, his tone playful and cocky. "Just admit that you're outclassed by the master snowball thrower of Hogwarts."

You’re already annoyed with yourself that you can’t make good snowballs, and he’s not making it any better. But at his comment, you raise your eyebrow. Maybe enjoying his cockiness a little.

“Shut up you are not the master snowball thrower of Hogwarts!” You say frustrated.

He feigned shock, placing a hand over his heart. "How dare you doubt my title?" He said jokingly, trying to suppress a grin. "I'll have you know I've been unchallenged for years. Just face it, baby, you're up against a pro here."

“My snowball keeps coming apart!” You whine.

He couldn't help but chuckle at your struggle. "Oh, so the little lady's having some trouble, huh?" He teased, his tone laced with a mix of amusement and affection. "Don't worry, I can help you out. Let me teach you the secret to a perfect snowball." He says, still being cocky, but also not wanting to make you feel bad about your snowball making skills.

“No. I can do it.” You say determined.

He watched as you struggled, the grin on his face growing. "Suit yourself," he said with a shrug. "But just so you know, I could've had five snowballs ready in the time it's taken you to make that one. It's all about technique baby.”

After a couple of minutes you decided to give up.

“I give up.” I say throwing my hands up and plopping them back down to my sides.

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with affection and a hint of triumph. "Aw, come on, don't give up yet," he teased. "Where's that competitive spirit? You can do better than that."

“You’ve thrown like 20 snowballs at me while i’m trying to make 1!” You yell frustrated.

“Because you suck baby.” He says softly.

[2n2n]

I love the opening song of jibaku shounen hanako-kun and when I see the comments and reviews about the anime, there are a lot of positive reviews about the opening. So out of curiosity, what do you think of the opening in question, music and other aspects. And if there's anything you don't like

I have talked a bit about the mysterious lyrics of it here, if that's interesting (it might not be).... I'm really intrigued that it is a bespoke song for the anime ABOUT its subjects-- not just a pop song retooled or something-- I find that sweet, for aidairo-sensei it must have felt like a dream.

as for the OP's audio, it's not really my genre or style of music. It's kind of typical sounding for an anime OP, lol.... you know, 'cool'. I find it difficult to listen to all the way through-- for me, the sound is grating & unpleasant.

.... I would also say it doesn't quite suit the story to me.... ? It's 'cool' in such a straightforward way, when this is 'a heartfelt toilet comedy' as aidairo-sensei put it... it's neither particularly ah, playful, nor tender. In terms of sound/tone it feels like it could be the OP of any shounen, like a BNHA, or a sports anime. Even if lyrically, it's doing something quite intriguing.... I wish the instruments had more of a ghost-y feel to them, if nothing else... but ideally, I want a hint of romance!!

As for the visual component, I like the Yugi imitating each other's gestures, and I overall like the high-saturation or jewel-tone color of the anime. It's mostly just re-using shots from the anime itself, so I can only comment on so much of the animation. It's like a clip show.... I accept that the budget might have necessitated that, I won't harp on it-- it's lucky it has an anime at all...! but I don't have much to say about it.

On the one hand, I'm really glad they decided to animate this interstitial illustration aida-sensei did (I wish they could animate all of her stylish interstitial!) because it's a wonderful illustration.....

... on the other hand, I seriously think it was ruinous for the western fandom, who proceed to obsess over it endlessly as though impossibly significant (maybe to justify their own fixation on it lol...). By virtue of the repetition of it as one watches episodes, forcing one to consider it again & again, this image may as well be a School Mystery, for all the rumors surrounding it. I seriously think this shot alone is responsible for at least 75% of 'Tsukasa is a sexual menace' headcanons, no matter what has happened since....

In reality however, it's really fun the OP elected to pull its audience in THIS direction with THIS kind of fanservice image. It's a sexy shot and it's using its sex appeal for the greater good. This is one of the few wholly original pieces of animation in the OP, so... damn, they really made that decision, you know? I respect that. Of all the things to represent, LOL. It would have gotten me as a teenager, so..............................................

well, moving from the OP to other things you didn't ask about:

I actually like both the ED & After-School boy's ED songs much more....! I think they suit the tone, respectively, better! Also... both of those are sung by Nene-chan's VA, which is so wonderful! She's our star, truly... it's very moving that she was cast with a VA with singing experience (Hanako/Tsukasa's too though, and we know Tsukasa & Nene-chan sing together in canon eventually, so....)... TT__TT.... you don't really get any better than the VAs of characters themselves singing for the anime!!!!

in terms of the ED, the tone represents the heart of JSHK well... love, devotion, preciousness... the visuals are also simplistic, strong, beautiful, minimalist, powerful. Of all the material thus far, it's my favorite.

And then, in terms of After-School Boy's ED.... it represents the silly & flirty-wirty aspects of JSHK well LOL, I remember hearing it the first time, and being like.... they really did that.... !!!!! ....this one,, captures Nene-chan's energy so perfectly HAHA... visually it's boring, but urrggh it's a great song haha, it really ruined my husband when it came out... he had to like, forget about it to protect himself....

Cannot overstate my love for both of those songs!!!

I'm really hoping for season 2, we get a new OP/ED, & I'm hoping that the manga has enough of a presence now that it can afford to do something bolder for its OP....? I would love wholly original animations for it.... perhaps taking more inspiration from Aida-sensei's many full-color illustrations.....

I guess in terms of anime OP that I really like overall, I think Brotherhood's first OP was really, really strong. It had the right tone, beautiful animation, powerful imagery (and I'm not an FMA stan overall?)... however, obviously such a powerfully funded & supported anime/manga would be able to afford that kind of thing, I'm not that delusional to think JSHK could afford that, haha. ... JSHK also has such a wholly different tone & theme from FMA lol (a tone I like better, at that!) but something, hmm-- melancholy, tender, would capture the heart of Picture Perfect to me, you know....! Which is coming up....for the anime....!!!

This is such a basic pull I know because it's Literally a legendary anime that influences like all anime, but Rose of Versailles OP is absolute perfection from sound to visual. Oscar enveloped in the roses thorns....!!!!! it's minimally animated, but it uses its symbolism & iconography for deep impact!!! You really don't need crazy animation to have an amazing OP!!!!

I think JSHK's ED is one of my favorites overall, but another I love that suits its series so well to me, is Inuyasha's second ED. It's functioning on more of a budget & reuses footage from the anime, so there you have that-- but I like what they've added in. It feels attainable... for Inuyasha, this kind of moody song is ideal. Again it's a different tone from JSHK or FMA or RoV, but I hope you can understand what I mean by like... the vibes of the OP/ED suiting the series itself in some way.... it should be unique according to the anime's themes, you know?

[munsonownsmyass]

Frank Castle x OFC! Abigail Miller

Summary: It's time for the annual carnival and Abby has been looking forward to seeing Frank again.

Warnings: Nothing but fluff, lots of pining, two fools that really like each other and... a little surprise.

Notes: It's finally here. I'm sorry it's been a while, but shit happened. Anyways... it's here now. Hope y'all like it.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Words: 2.4 K

Part 2 - Masterlist - part 3

‘Pull yourself together. It’s just a county fair’. Abby had repeated those words every time she tossed a dress to the side. On the 6th dress now and still unsure which one to choose. Cause honestly, was it just a carnival? No, not really. Was it a date? Maybe not that either. Frank wasn’t even picking her up, agreed upon meeting there, so it really wasn’t a date, was it? And why was she this worked up, if it wasn’t a date?

She groans as she throws herself on the bed, sighing heavily into her pillow. This really shouldn’t be this hard. Just put on a damn dress. She turns her head, frowning at the pile on the floor. Well, Frank did call her colorful…

With a grunt, Abby peels herself off the bed and puts on a flowery dress. Not as colorful as the bouquet she got, but still bright and playful.

Good, one thing done. Now onto makeup and hair. She walks to the bathroom, trying her best to look as natural as possible, but still pretty. Looking into the mirror, she sighs heavily once more. She really needed to relax a bit. Just a county fair, just a night out.

She looks into the mirror in the hall, one last look over, before heading out. Just as Abby reaches for her keys, her doorbell rings. Great. Just what she needs. She really can’t be late. Confused and slightly annoyed, she opens the door.

She was not at all prepared for what she sees. Frank Castle. But he doesn’t look like the Frank she’s gotten to know over the last few months. His hair is shorter, but still with enough length for him to style it. The beard was trimmed too, now shorter and shaped.

Abby couldn’t help but stare. His face much more open now, she could really see just how beautiful he was. She already knew he was, inside and out, but now he looked devilishly handsome, sexy even.

Looking into his eyes, she notices Frank is uncomfortable, running his hand through his hair. It's then Abby realizes she hasn't said anything, just stared at him. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m staring”

“Hopefully it’s a good thing?” Frank asks almost nervously. He’s obviously done it for her, wanted to look good for their date and Abby can’t help but smile.

“Oh, definitely. You look good!” She blurts it out before she can stop herself. Giggling softly, she tucks a loose strain of hair behind her ear, looking up to find Frank’s eyes on her, a huge smile on his face.

“Ehm, I mean…” she starts, wanting to downplay it. But she just gives caution to the wind. “You know what, I meant it. You look really good.”

He gives her a shy smile, looking her up and down. “Look who’s talking. You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

In that moment, Abby almost forgets how to breathe. Heart beating faster than ever before, she’s almost certain this has to be a dream. But luckily, it’s not. She actually has a date, or whatever this is, with Frank. And she really can’t wait to get there.

Once they reach the fairgrounds, the atmosphere is electric. The buzzing of the people, every single person in town there, apparently. There is music in the air, distant shouting from the different vendors in the booths and people laughing, talking, singing.

The lights everywhere are beautiful, the colors bright against the dark night sky.

Abby is one big smile, the memories washing over her. As a kid she always loved the county fair. The highlight of her summer, when visiting Nana. She turns to Frank, to say something, but stops when she sees the way he looks at her. “What?”

He smiles wide, his face soft and cheerful, as he looks at her. “It’s just been a long time since I’ve seen someone smile like that.” He starts softly, taking a step closer to her, brushing a stray hair behind her ear, cupping her cheek gently. “You really are a ray of sunshine.”

He moves closer, his eyes darting from her eyes to her lips and back. He licks his bottom lip and Abby almost stops breathing. She looks at him, silently begging him to kiss her. If he only knew how much she wants his lips on hers. Frank’s mouth quirks up into a faint smile, clearly loving the effect he has on her.

“Abby! You’re here!”

Frank’s hand drops from her cheek, as they hear Mildred shout after Abby. Clearly frustrated, they do their best to hide it, turning to say hi.

Half an hour later, Abby is still thinking about their almost kiss. She loves Mildred, but at that moment she wished her far away. She was still very much enjoying her evening with Frank, talking about books, the people in town, his favorite foods. But that moment just lingers in her mind.

They walk past the shooting tent, as someone walks away with a prize.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone walk away with the biggest prize.” Abby gestures towards the giant bears at the top. The ones so big, it’s quite comical. Who even has room for a teddy that size? But dammit, if Abby hadn’t dreamt of getting one, like you see in those cheesy rom coms on tv.

Frank shoots her a look, as he points towards the prizes. “You want the big bear?”

“Well, can’t say I’ve never thought about it, when seeing it in movies.” She bites her lip, feeling dumb suddenly.

Frank smirks as he takes her hand, pulling her gently with him to the tent. Once there he looks at the targets, inspecting the rifle, before looking at the man managing the booth. “How many targets do I have to hit to win the biggest one?”

Receiving the number required, Frank just huffs, a confident smile forming, as he picks up the gun. Pointing to the moving targets, he quickly takes out the first three. As he continues, Abby looks at him in awe. Sure, she knew he had a military background, but it’s something else seeing this.

Like muscle memory, Frank taps into something hidden, expertly taking out one target after the other, only stopping to reload the rifle. Even his stance changes, seeming like a completely different man. Him focused on the targets and her on Frank, neither of them notices the crowd forming around them. Frank has already hit more targets than necessary, now he’s just showing off, using the last bullets.

Abby has to admit it’s hot seeing him like this. Confident, competent, focused. Hell, she’d even call him deadly.

When he finally puts down the rifle, the crowd around them cheers. Frank blushes a little, clearly not that comfortable with the attention. He turns to the man in the booth, pointing to the biggest bear.

Almost squealing, Abby can’t contain her excitement when Frank hands it to her. Almost as tall as her, she disappears behind it. “Thank you, Frank. I love it!” she jumps up and down, before leaning closer, placing a quick soft peck on his cheek.

“Anything to make you smile like that, sweetheart.”

Abby’s heart instantly beats faster, threatening to break out of her chest. It’s just a stupid teddy bear, she tries to convince herself. He’s just being nice. But somewhere deep down, she knows it’s a lie. It has to be. She can’t be the only one feeling like this, can she? Abby can’t deny the feeling she has inside any longer, maybe she should just say something?

Before she can, though, some of the older men in town interrupts, talking about military stuff with Frank. Abby doesn't mind though. It’s nice to see Frank actually talking to people, slowly breaking down his walls.

Abby waits patiently, nuzzling into the soft bear, looking at Frank. As one of the older men starts yet another anecdote from Vietnam, Frank shoots Abby a glance. A ‘please come and save me before I die’ look. Abby can’t hold back her giggle, instantly making Frank smile.

Realizing that Frank is too polite to say anything, Abby decides to go rescue him. Faking some minor emergency, she manages to tear him away.

“Thank you for saving me.” He smiles, throwing an arm around her shoulders, plucking the bear from her arms with his free hand. “Let me carry that. You want some churros?”

Sitting on a bench, looking out over the fairgrounds, Abby looks at the giant bear, smiling. This has been the best night of her life. Happy and content, she takes another bite of her churro, as Frank talks more about his life before Bar Harbor. Well, the parts he wants to share anyways. It’s small stuff. Born and raised Hell’s Kitchen. Older parents. Rebellious kid. Then turned Marine.

“Where's Hell’s Kitchen?”

“It's in New York.”

She mutters a soft ‘oh’, biting into another churro. Wonder what made him move from a big city with so many possibilities, then why move here?

She turns to ask, when she gets interrupted by Frank laughing softly. “What?”

“You have a little…” he gestures to her lip. Before Abby can do anything, Frank sweeps his thumb over her bottom lip, removing some ice cream. Such a simple touch, but it makes Abby’s heart beat faster.

Now that she thinks about it, anything Frank does makes her heart beat faster.

He looks into her eyes, as he licks the ice cream of his thumb. Abby swallows hard, embarrassed by the thoughts running through her head. God, what she wouldn’t give to have that tongue on her.

Abby seriously had to pull herself together. Her plan for tonight was to get to know Frank even more, not lusting over him like a lovesick puppy. There were things she really wanted to know, things she felt like she needed to know.

“Frank, can I ask you something?”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

Abby  searches for the right way to word her question. She really wants to know more about his past but is still afraid. What if the reason he isn’t sharing, is because he doesn’t want anyone to know? What if it’s bad?

As if he senses her inner turmoil, Frank gently takes her hand, squeezing it gently. “Abby?”

She looks up into his eyes, before looking down at their hands.

“I’m just curious why a marine would settle for being a lumberjack in a small town, when he's from New York.” She pauses, looking into his eyes. His face falls slightly, like a shadow comes over him. “Sorry. It’s just… New York. I've always wanted to go. Seems like such a great place.”

Silence falls between them.

“I… I was betrayed by someone I trusted.” He pauses, looking uncomfortable. “I lost someone I loved.”

“Lost?” Abby’s voice is barely above a whisper.

“My…” Frank stops, the memories of it clearly hurts. His free hand finds it’s way to his head, a faint scar still there, barely visible. “I had a wife and kids.”

Abby sits in silence, horrified over his story, as he continues to tell her everything from the very beginning. How he had a friend named Billy who he served with, how he had lost his family, how he had set out to get revenge. In the end he just had to get away from it all.

Abby knows it’s true, but it all seems so unreal. His friend betraying him, the loss of his family, revenge… Left speechless, all she can do is squeeze Frank's hand, not knowing how she can ease the pain of these memories.

“I… I’m so sorry all this happened to you. It’s so awful.”

Despite it all, a soft smile spreads on Frank's face, as he looks into Abby’s beautiful blue eyes. “Something great did come out of it in the end.”

“Yeah? What?” she smiles, lightening up her face.

“I met you”

Frank cups her cheek, looking deeply into her eyes, like he can see into her soul. He leans closer and Abby’s heart pounds like never before. Her body aches for him, begging for him to come closer, wanting nothing more than his lips against hers.

As if he hears her silent plea, he closes the distance between them, his lips finally meeting hers. For a second, it’s like time stands still, all that exists is his lips against hers. His soft, plumb lips. God, she could keep kissing him forever.

When they break apart, Frank rests his forehead against hers, smiling wider than Abby has ever seen. And honestly, she was grinning too. She giggles softly, a heavy blush on her cheeks.

Frank leans down, capturing her lips in another sweet kiss. Abby, still giddy, eagerly reciprocates the kiss.

It starts soft and slow, but soon turns more passionate, needy. Months of want poured into the kiss, truly taking Abby’s breath away.

Frank grips her tighter, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. Abby moans against his lips, eliciting a soft groan from Frank. Suddenly he breaks away, only a few inches, panting heavily. His breath ghosts her lips, before he finally pulls away.

Never in her life had she had a kiss like that. So much want and passion, nothing had ever made her quiver so fast. He leaves her a flustered, hot mess and she is already addicted, wanting more.

Frank shifts in his seat, looking uncomfortable. Abby notices how his erection is straining against the zipper of his jeans. Trying to suppress a giggle, she bites her lip, looking up into Frank’s eyes.

His cheeks are turning a soft pink, clearly a little embarrassed by his lack of self-control.

“Well, in my defense it has been a long time.” He shrugs, grinning from ear to ear. Abby just nods, relieved by the fact that women can hide their arousal better. If only he knew she was just as affected by it as he was.

“I’ll take it as a compliment”

“You should” Frank grins, putting his arm around her.

They sit for a while, enjoying the silence and each other. She snuggles closer, watches the people go by. Things are the same, but still, everything has changed.

“I have a confession,” Frank says softly. Abby looks at him, silently asking him to go on. “I had a plan to take you on the Ferris wheel and kiss you at the top. So our first kiss was special.”

Abby’s heart swells at his confession. So he had planned to kiss her all along. Even planned to make it really romantic, knowing she would appreciate it. Even though it didn’t happen, it’s probably the sweetest thing anyone has done for her. Or well, planned to do.

Feeling giddy and happier than ever before, she puts her arm around him, hugging him tightly. Abby plants a soft kiss on his cheek, before cupping his cheek.

“Well… I’m up for a ride in the Ferris Wheel if you are?”

Tagging: @e-dubbc11 @itwasthereaminuteago @chvoswxtch @theradioactivespidergwen @danzer8705 @lucy-sky @murdock-and-the-sea @mattmurdocksscars @boliv-jenta @darlingshane @pedrito-friskito @sio-ina-bottle

And some no pressure tags 🙈: @anna-hawk @feelmyskinonyourskin @chellestrash @chelseasdagger @loveroftoomanyfandoms

[citadelredlightdistrict]

"Before we go, smile!" Scroll out and ready to take a picture, Noelle would pull a kissy face whilst taking a selfie with Weiss just before they left, the Scroll wasn't Noel's, rather a spare that was more in-line with the young Noelle persona.

But once that was done, she'd get her handbag and start heading to the mall with her bestie, still trying to do her best in the high-heels she had on, but she was getting the hang of it.

"Mm, let's find me some casual wear, undies, pajamas, and swimwear, we should find a swimsuit that shows of my shape, then we find the cute matching flip-flops to go with!~"

Of course, it couldn't a bikini, not unless Noel wanted or needed to become Noelle fully and get breasts, since the game would be up since it wouldn't hide that Noelle was a boy dressing as a girl, but the small things were what were making Noelle stand out from Noel, he would never wear or call flip-flops by their name, he found them horrid, Noelle was the opposite however.

Weiss was thrilled as she walked with Noelle into the mall. With the rest of team RWBY away on missions so much, and her stuck at home running her company, it had been far too long since she'd had a good girls' night out. Not to mention, she was more than a little partial towards girls, and she was starting to see just how cute and sexy her little boy could be as girl. So as they walked, Weiss held her hand, and walked a bit closer than necessary to Noelle, sometimes her hand would even slip out of Noelle's and lightly brush over her ass as Weiss pointed out different outfits to her. Weiss: "Oooh~! That one, come on, this would look perfect on you!" The swimsuit that she'd pointed out was a one piece that came with a small skirt style flourish at the bottom, it was ice blue and looked otherwise similar to what one would expect of something like a school swimsuit. "This would look so cute on you! And it'll help to, *ahem* keep everything covered." She gives her a playful wink as she thrusts the swimsuit into her hands along with the rest of the clothes they'd picked out already. "Hmm, alright I can't see any good flip-flops for it though... Here, you start getting those on, and I'll be right back with some sandals and a few extra for you to try." With that she leans in and gives her a quick kiss on the cheek, her lips just brushing over her own on her way to the cheek. Easy enough to dismiss as an accident.

[sometimesanalice]

Ah Fabiola!

This was such a fun reblog to get! Thank you for taking the time and effort to write all of this out! I'm so happy you enjoyed it! I loved writing it! I loved getting to revisit these two!

more for you friend!

I liked how you described her indecision in choosing the costume. The image of her in front of her wardrobe while she stares at all her clothes and tries to put on a costume was so real! As was her agitation to meet Bradley's friends.- Its that moment when you put so much pressure on yourself that you're kind of blinded by everything trying to find something perfect. I loved the idea of her having this immaculate closet that looks like its been hit by a tornado because she's trying to will something perfect to come inspire her.

“You, 12:23 PM: And you only have yourself to blame for those pushups. (PS. I told you what time it was before I got in the shower, you were the one who invited yourself to join. PPS. I liked that thing you did with the shower head)”

Their text exchange drove me crazy, really sexy! Now I can't think of anything other than Bradley and the seven settings of the shower head🫠❤️‍🔥- This was so fun! I usually plot out my stories pretty fully, but their text convo was something that snuck up on me and I love how it turned out! I wanted to show why they were a couple worth rooting for, even as they both kind of spiral individually. It was fun to let them be cheeky and flirty!

“But it didn’t matter because it was all going to end the same way: with you tipsy and giddy and in Rooster’s bed.”

Seems like the best way to end the night 🫠

I loved the moment when she had the idea of ​​dressing like Bradley, especially the fact that she used his shirt, I found this gesture of wearing his clothes so sweet and intimate. - I'm so happy you thought that part was cute! I really liked it being the shirt he had left behind in his rush to get out the door that morning. Also, here's the shirt I imagined it being!

“And the others?” Rooster asked with a smirk.

“Let’s just say I’m a better pilot than I am with a piping bag,”

I perfectly imagined the expression with which Mav said this sentence😂- bless him, he TRIED! I loved the idea of the domesticity of Penny and Mav having a cute little baking night in, and Amelia just absolutely ROASTING him, lol

“Once your girl sees these abs she might be my girl by the end of the night.”

Okay, Jake's entrance was epic, in true Hangman style! I also loved his costume choice, it's so spot on for him.- THIS MAN! He's so funny. He definitely think's he's the main character, but she's only got eyes for the man with those long legs in the short shorts!

“Well, if it ain’t Rooster,” he hears Hangman call out from across the room. “We just did this, man,” he tosses back, not bothering to look up from his phone.”

This part was so beautiful. The natural and playful way Jake called her by Bradley's call sign, AHH i loved it, I think maybe her entrance was the best, I like how she captured attention and left everyone speechless. And the fact that Bradley initially thought he was referring to him and was almost annoyed by Jake's comment was brilliant.- Jake is so observant, it HAD to be him who first noticed her! It was a fun way to tie in their dynamic from Oh Christmas Tree too, because the first glimpse we get of her is her teasing him, but also he's the one she calls when she needs help with something that Bradley can't help her with. So getting to revisit them here was such fun!

“No, not you. The better Bradshaw,”

The better Bradshaw😂- I have had this line written for MONTHS! (since JANUARY!) And I've adored it endlessly since them, so finally getting to share the whole story with this moment was so exciting for me!

It's my favorite getting to blend in the cheeky and the emotional with the humor, so I'm so happy you enjoyed all those elements in this one!

Seeing Double

Summary: Two weeks had felt like more than enough time to come up with something. And now you’re costumeless and in a panic less than a couple of hours before you’re supposed to be meeting your boyfriend’s closest friends. You’re ready to call it quits when you’re suddenly hit with a burst of inspiration.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 6k

Warnings: fluff, allusions to smut, and Bradley Bradshaw in short-shorts (minors dni)

(This fic is a one-shot that is set before the Oh Christmas Tree, but you can read it on its own! Enjoy 🧡)

Looking at your closet, filled with everything and yet absolutely nothing, you’re beginning to realize just how totally and royally screwed you are.

The thing is you’d had time. More than enough time, in fact.

When Bradley had first invited you to go with him to this Halloween party, two weeks had seemed like plenty of time to concoct the perfect costume.

And then the more you’d thought about it, the more you’d overthought it, the more annoyed you’d gotten for overthinking it. A vicious spiral that not even hours of searching on Pinterest had helped to pull you from.

One that had left you costumeless for a party that was supposed to start in less than two hours with all of your boyfriend’s friends.

Fuck.

It was one outfit for one evening. You should probably be more concerned about Ciara from Marketing and her not-so-subtle scheming than what you were going to put on your body for the next five or so hours.

As you a sift through your perfectly color coordinated clothes, dragging hangers across the closet rod as if you’ve been personally victimized by the wardrobe you’d bought with your own money, you can’t help but wonder if you might have some self-sabotaging tendencies.

Bradley Bradshaw had snuck up on you when you were least expecting it. And what you thought was just going to be some summer fun had quickly turned into something more.

More often than not, you were thinking of him.

More often than not, he was texting you throughout the day.

More often than not, you were sharing a bed with him at night.

The last three, almost four, months had flown by in a summer haze and you liked Rooster more than any other man you had dated in the past.

You might even love him, but that was something you were keeping close to your chest for now. It felt too soon to be feeling the way you did about him.

He was more than just the pretty face and easygoing smile that had swayed you into giving him your number. He was more than just a fun night out and some no-strings-attached-yet-mind-blowing sex that you had tried to convince yourself it was.

He’d made it impossible for you to try and keep it casual in the way that he’d thoroughly swept you off your feet. You’d given up trying to keep him at arm’s length after your fifth date with him.

If you couldn’t beat him, you might as well join him. And so far, it was a gamble with your heart that was paying off.

Which was probably why you had given yourself the world’s worst mental block trying to figure out a costume to wear.

You’d met a few of his friends, like Natasha and Jake, during the nights he’d taken you to the Hard Deck. He’d told you that after one of their missions earlier in the year, the members on the squad had been in high demand. But this was the first time you’d be hanging out with them all at once.

So yeah, you were more than a little nervous about this evening.

And you didn’t just want to make a good impression, you wanted to absolutely charm and delight them. These people were so important to him, they were his family. They mattered to him and he mattered to you.

You pull out a black cocktail dress and debate whether you could pull together a Breakfast at Tiffany’s look with the pearls your grandmother had left you. It was a classic for a reason, right?

Or did it make you look like you were trying too hard? She was basically a callgirl after all.

The formfitting little dress goes back on the rack with a little more force than is necessary.

It’s just a causal get together, so why are your palms sweating?

You eye a silky pink slip dress and think about pairing it with one of your overpriced sleep mask. But you think you’d look less like you were flirty, thirty, and thriving and more like you forgotten to get dressed after rolling out of bed.

There are still a couple of cozy plaid button ups that you’d brought with you from home, but unless you carried around a roll of paper towels all night, it was an idea that might get you a more than a few perplexed looks. And there was nothing worse than having to explain your outfit for it to make sense to people.

Or worse, you’d be the one cleaning up spills all night.

You wanted your effort to look effortless.

Cool but not try hard. Thought through but not over the top.

You remember seeing some friend of a friend’s post from last weekend where she was dressed as Kim Possible. Green pants and a black top feel very doable. And she’d looked very cute and low maintenance, which was just the kind of vibe you were going for.

Remembering a pair of green khakis your sister had somehow talked you into the last time she came to visit, you go to your dresser and yank out the drawer you think they’d be in and toss it on the floor. You’re over trying to keep some semblance of order, that’s a problem for future you to deal with now.

Digging around in the pile, you will a flash of olive green to appear before your eyes. And when the items formerly nicely folded drawer and nothing but a heap of wrinkled, olive green-less chaos, you’re hit with the realization that the khakis that had seemed like a bad idea when you’d first gotten them had felt like a bad idea every time you looked at them and they’d ended up in the donation pile during your last closet purge.

You flop down and take in the carnage.

Half open drawers, random tops and skirts flung on your bed, the perfect rainbow of your closet now some technicolored disarray.

You’re almost afraid to pull out your phone to look at the clock, that pressure growing in your chest keeps getting worse. You can almost feel each individual second as they tick by. Glancing down you see that there’s a new message from Bradley, one that you missed in your frenzy to find something, anything to wear tonight.

Bradley, 9:52 AM: That wake up was worth the extra pushups I had to do for being late.

Bradley, 11:10 AM: Did I leave my shirt at your place this morning?

You, 12:22 PM: I’ll check when I get home and let you know. But I’m sure it’s there since I vividly remember the way you took it off last night.  

You, 12:23 PM: And you only have yourself to blame for those pushups. (PS. I told you what time it was before I got in the shower, you were the one who invited yourself to join. PPS. I liked that thing you did with the shower head)

Bradley, 2:37 PM: As I said, worth it (PS pretty sure the only thing I heard you chanting was my name. Also I just ordered a new shower head for my place, one with a fancy handheld and everything)

You, 3:04 PM: I guess I’ll have to wake you up with my mouth more often then. (PS. just curious how many settings does it have? Asking for a friend.)

Bradley, 3:10 PM: Jesus Sweetheart, I’m up next to do a hop… (PS more than enough, and by enough, I mean 7)

You, 3:10 PM: 😘 (PS. can’t wait, I’m more than happy to product test)

Bradley, 3:11 PM: Yeah, I bet you are...

You, 3:11 PM: (Want to know the best part of working from home? I can get off any time I want. Have fun flying with that hard-on, Roos.)

Bradley, 3:12 PM: Baby, you’re killing me here

You, 3:12 PM: Fly safe ❤️

🔴 Bradley, 6:14 PM: Just got home, I can’t wait to see you tonight. What time should I pick you up? You might have to come down though, I don’t know if they’d let me in...

Skimming the previous messages from earlier in the day helps relieve some of the anxious energy that was thrumming in your veins. Because he’s just so Bradley.

He hadn’t been the only one who got to work late this morning. You’d actually worked from the office that day, but it had been more fun to tease him from your desk than draft the internal communications you were supposed to be working on.

The original plan had been to work a half day and then leave early and figure out your costume situation. But then you’d been pulled into an emergency PR meeting on your way out the door for one of the company’s biggest clients and had got home much, much later than you’d planned to.

You’d spotted Rooster’s shirt crumpled on the floor by the foot of your bed, from where he’d shucked it off the night before, the second you’d flown into your bedroom. Now it is carefully draped against the back of the soft blue tufted chair in the corner of your room. It was a colorful patchwork of beach themed vignettes in soft corals, teals, and dark blues. In addition to the palm trees and foliage, there were also planes and ships on it.

It was one of your favorites because you always felt like you were finding something new on it every time he wore it.

He’d told you once early on when you’d first gotten serious, after you’d teased him about his seemingly endless supply, that he’d even gotten curious one drunken night and looked up the resale value on some of his favorites and was shocked at the numbers. That it had taken him a month to put one back on because he didn’t want to ruin any of them on accident, now that he knew what exactly his father had left him.

You knew how much Bradley valued his collection, what they meant to him. You were even watching a few vintage ones in nice condition on Ebay to give him for Christmas.

Letting out a ragged sigh, you look back at the pile on the ground.

You’ve always prided yourself on being a problem solver. And the one time you needed to spring into action with a pivot plan is the one time you’re at a complete loss. You felt paralyzed by indecision and the kind of pressure that only you could put on yourself, which made everything that much more frustrating.

How you had kept the novelty six-pack tank top you’d taken home from a White Elephant exchange, but donated the green khaki pants was beyond you.

Out of the two, one would have been much more practical in this particular moment.

You pick it up off the floor and feel the fabric between your fingers. It was surprisingly soft for something that you’d expect to feel like sandpaper no matter how many times it got washed.

That tank top had never seen the light of day, yet always seemed to make it through your yearly purge unscathed. Probably solely on the fact that it made you giggle whenever you saw it. You always forgot about it, but it was a happy surprise when you pulled it out from where it was tucked away in the back of your dresser drawer.

You let it fall back onto the top of the pile.

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard of your phone as you try to figure out what to say to Bradley, as you look back and forth between your mountainous mess and the empty text box.

You know you could call him and he’d pick up before the third ring. You knew you could text him and he would reply the moment he could. And you know, if you told him you were stressed about meeting all of his friends and wanting to impress them, to impress him, that he would understand. He’d tell you- in that soothing way of his- to not worry about it, that you could just wear whatever made you comfortable, no costume necessary.

He’d probably even ditch his own so that you weren’t the only one there in normal clothes, even though he’d been dropping teasing hint about his for days now. He was so excited for tonight, you didn’t want to bring the vibe down before you’d even arrived.

You close your eyes and allow yourself a couple moments to reset.

What you wore didn’t matter. But whatever you wore, you were going to have a great time with Bradley and the people he cared about. And that was the only thing that mattered to you.

You could throw on your little black dress, or a red and white striped sweater with a pair of glasses, or some skintight leggings and a leather jacket. But it didn’t matter because it was all going to end the same way: with you tipsy and giddy and in Rooster’s bed.

Already feeling much better you open your eyes again.

You’re greeted again with those perfectly sculpted abs of that silly little tank top that still sits on top of the mound of clothes on your floor. But out of the corner of you eye, those cheerful colors adorning your chair in the corner wink out at you.

The glimmer of an idea settles over you like stardust.

It’s on that the more you sit with, the more perfectly solidified it becomes in your mind. Oh, you can see it so clearly now.

It’s an idea that makes you feel like you could bubble over in excitement.

You shoot off a quick text to Rooster and set about grabbing all the things you needed. You’d be a little late, but not terribly so. Fashionably late.

And you’re hopeful it’ll be worth the last-minute change of plans.

There was only one thing you needed that you didn’t already have, and you knew just where you’d be able to find it.

Just a quick little pit stop on the way to the party.

On your way to Bradley.

When Rooster parked in front of Fanboy and Payback’s place he shouldn’t have been surprised to see the Spanish-style house they rented together absolutely covered in every type of decoration imaginable.  

He’d heard Reuben moan and groan about it enough over the last few weeks.

Halloween was Mickey’s favorite holiday and there was nothing more he loved than going all out on a theme. It didn’t matter if it was St Patrick’s Day or National Cheeseburger Day, he always committed.

They’d all be pulled into the argument about whether or not a faux body bag filled with empty bottles should be strung up on the front porch. Fanboy lost that one by a mere two votes. And Bob had been the one to broker the peace by suggesting they make some ghosts to hang up instead.

Dozens of glowing pumpkin lanterns hung from the trees outside and lined the pathway up to the front door. The bushes were wrapped in fibrous looking cobweb material as lights flickered and flashed underneath them. There was a fog machine hidden somewhere because wisps of smoke were curling and crawling along the lawn. Custom gravestones littered the yard along with a few well-placed plastic skeletons. The front of the porch was filled with more pumpkins of various sizes and shapes and colors as well as those truce ghosts and a few oversized bats swaying in the chilly October night breeze.

Rooster wasted no time letting himself in the glowing entryway, rubbing his arms as he hustled to get inside. Normally he ran warm, but he’d been covered in goosebumps from the moment he’d gotten out of the Bronco.

His costume had earned him more than a few wolf whistles when he had stopped to get gas. He’d simply shot them a wink and a smirk as he’d strut past them to go inside and pay.

He looked damn good.

But there was only one person he’d wanted to show off this outfit to.

He didn’t know how it was possible but the inside was even more decorated than the outside of their place was.

There were stands and strands of colorful string lights in black, purple, and orange strung across the ceiling covered by gauzy black fabric. There were more cobwebs covering every exposed bit of the walls and flameless candles lining the floor of the hallway. And there was a mix of eerie forest sounds playing under the Halloween party soundtrack that Coyote had been roped into making for the night.

Bradley follows the hundreds of little plastic spiders decorated the wall leading him to the living room. And almost collides with someone as he rounds the corner.

The shorter man he’d nearly taken out had on an overly bleached and spiked wig with a goatee and was wearing more neon orange flames than any one person should be allowed to wear.

They were both eyeing each other waiting for the other person to lob the first comment.

Rooster sees the way Mav’s cheeks are twitching as he takes in the length of the shorts he was wearing and just how much leg he had on display.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s hear it, old man,” he snorts, reaching out and taking the drink from Mav’s hand and taking a swig from the mostly empty bottle before passing it back.

“Did they lower the drinking age and I missed the memo, kid?” Mav tosses back easily, pointing to Bradley’s clingy, red Rydell High School t-shirt. “Don’t need a Class A misdemeanor on my record, that file is already big enough on its own.”

“Laugh it up, Flavortown,” Bradley snorts, “You on your way out?”

“Yeah, just wanted to swing by for a minute before I go over to the Hard Deck to help Penny out for the night. She sent me with some treats too, they’re over on the table. Where’s your girl? I was hoping to see her before I left.”

“Oh, uh, she’s meeting me here. Said she got caught up in a last-minute meeting,” Bradley says rubbing the back of his neck. He was trying not to over think the text you’d sent him. “So what’s Penny dressing up as?”

Mav uses both hands and gestures to his costume, face flat.

“No shit,” Bradley laughs.

“Amelia hustled the both of us,” Mav says shaking his head fondly. “I’m telling you, kid, teenagers these days are a scary bunch.” He takes the last swig of his beer and passes the bottle to Bradley, patting him on the shoulder. “Make sure you and your girl try the candlestick cakes. The realistic ones are the ones that Penny made.”

“And the others?” Rooster asked with a smirk.

“Let’s just say I’m a better pilot than I am with a piping bag,” he says with a self-deprecating laugh. “Happy Halloween, Bradley.”

“See you on Sunday for brunch.”

He and his godfather exchange a hug before Pete strides out the door, giving him one more pat on the back before he leaves.

Rooster makes his way further into the living room and goes to check out the food situation and to grab a drink in hopes that it’ll help settle that anxious coil in the pit of his stomach.

He waves over to Fritz, Yale, and Omaha, who are dressed up as the Sanderson Sisters, as he makes his way to the dining room. Fritz has his arm draped over his wife’s shoulder who is dressed like a black cat and they’re all gathered around the keg in the kitchen like it’s a cauldron.

Under a display of floating candles, Fanboy and Payback’s dining table is filled to the brim with all kinds of party food. Breadsticks that looked like fingers, a charcuterie board being clutched by a skeleton, a carved pumpkin puking some kind of tasty looking dip, and rice krispies with an ungodly amount of red dye number forty wrapped up in plastic on Styrofoam trays. And of course, the candlestick cakes. It was obvious which one’s Penny had made and which were Mav’s handiwork.

He pops one in his mouth, making a mental note to text Penny about how good they are.

Off to the side there was a homemade cooler shaped like a coffin and a witch’s cauldron bubbling away with dry ice filled with something potent, if the patriotic punch from the Fourth of July was anything to go by.

He grabs one of the plastic syringes from the bowl that says free shots and sips it down easily, trying not to grimace at the ratio of tequila to cranberry cocktail, and then dropping the now empty syringe in the hazardous waste bucket that’s placed next to the bowl.

Checking out the inside of the cooler, he sees it’s been stocked with a good variety of beers and ciders, he even spots your favorite which he knows you’ll be excited about.

That is whenever you get here.

Bradley pulls out his phone from the back pocket of his tight-fitting shorts to see if there’s any new message from you yet.

No ETA, no update, no on my way. Nothing since his last text nearly forty minutes ago. He’s tempted to shoot you another one, but he doesn’t want to come across as overbearing.

Rooster knew you were a bit anxious about tonight, even though all his friends really liked you, but he was starting to think that maybe he might be deeper in this than you were. He was trying not to let his mind spiral about why you didn’t want him to pick you up, but the only thing he kept coming back to was that maybe you wanted a way to make an easy escape if you weren’t having a good time with him or his friends.

He was worried that you might have one foot out the door.

You’ve met most of his friends now, just at different times and never all at once.

After the Uranium Mission, their team quickly became very in-demand. Getting requests to join other training contingents, classified trials and testing of new tech in development, and smaller specialized missions. It’s very rare now that they’re all in the same place at the same time. It always feels like there’s always someone missing, they’re always going and doing.

His team has always been good about finding ways to let off steam.

Although, he’s been less frequently found behind the piano bench of the Hard Deck since he’s taking on a more starring role in your bedroom. His friends would tease him on base about keeping you to himself. But he wouldn’t apologize for wanting to spending all his free time with you than the people he already spent the majority of his days with. Bradley doesn’t want you to feel like he’s trying to keep you away from them, he just would rather soak up all of your attention than share you with everyone else.

He liked that you were his girl.

Sighing to himself, Rooster puts his phone back in his pocket and walks back out to the living room before anyone can accuse him of sulking.

Callie and her fiancée are dress up as Velma and Daphne and chatting away with Bob over by the fireplace that is filled with skulls and thick pillars of candles. Bob’s homemade chef’s hat is glowing lightly from the inside and showing the silhouette of a little rodent.

He watches as Fanboy in his Hamburglar costume heading over of the bathroom with a trash bag looking more than a little suspicious. Bradley is sure he has more than a few pranks up black and white striped sleeves tonight.

“Where’s your Sandy, Danny?” Nat asks, sliding up to him and passing him a beer.

“You know, I don’t actually know what she’s coming dressed as. She never gave me any hints,” he admits, taking a small sip as he takes in her costume. She’s got fluffy bunny ears on and her nose is painted pink. The only thing missing from her Lola Bunny ensemble is the basketball.

“Oh?” He can tell Phoenix is trying to school the surprise on her face. “I just figured with you wearing that and all.”

He just shrugs, his thumbnail picking at the label on the bottle.

Bradley had thought about floating a couple’s costume when he had invited you to come with him, but he pivoted at the last moment, not wanting to put pressure on you to agree to commit right away.

“Is she on her way?” Nat asks, looking at him out of the corner of her all too keen eyes.

“Hopefully, if she doesn’t change her mind,” he says ruefully.  

“Why would she do that? Did you do something to piss her off?”

“Not that I know of. I know I’m reading into things, but I was supposed to go pick her up and she texted me last minute saying that she’d meet me here instead. And I don’t know what to make of it, it just isn’t like her.”

“Is that why you’re standing here look like a sad puppy? You know I’ve never been able to get through those ASPCA commercial without them getting my credit card information. Can I read the text?”

“Sure, have at it,” he says, unlicking and handing over his phone to her. “Uh, just the last few though.” He tacks that last part on quickly and she just gives him a pointed lift of her sharp eyebrow.

He feels dumb watching Nat skim the texts, he knows he’s overthinking things. But he also knows he’s not going to feel better about any of it until you get here and he can see your face.

“She said she’ll be here, Bradshaw. I don’t know how else you’re reading into this, but I imagine the mental gymnastics must be getting tiring.”

Bradley huffs a laugh, because she’s right.

As always.

“Yeah, I know,” he sighs, running his hands through his hair, “It’s just- I really like her, Nat.”

“Oh, we know. You moon after her with those big cow eyes all the time” she teases, nudging her elbow against his ribs. “But I’ve also seen the way she moons after you too, so relax.”

He can’t fight the small smile that works its way onto his face. The idea of you watching him the same way he knows he looks at you when you’re not looking at him makes his chest fill with warmth.

Nat peers around him and he spins to see who’s just arrived.

“Jesus, Rooster. Aren’t you worried about your dick falling out of those? They’re indecent,” Jake drawls, looking every inch the action hero he thinks he is.

“Please,” Bradley says with a roll of his eyes, “You wish you could pull these off, Bagman. If you got it, flaunt it.”

“I’m flaunting plenty,” Jake counters as he flexes. His shirt is unbuttoned all the way to the waistband of his pants. Although, Bradley is pretty sure Indiana Jones at least had sleeves. “Once your girl sees these abs she might be my girl by the end of the night.”

Seresin shoots him a wink and struts away, the plastic whip on his hip bouncing with every step. Rooster just shakes his head after him, watching as he high fives Javy, who is dressed as The Rock complete with a fanny pack and chain around his neck, in greeting by the sliding glass door that leads to patio.

“I still can’t believe you use to date him,” he ribs Nat lightly.

She plucks his beer out of his hand, claiming it as her own in retaliation. “Me neither,” she grunts, but he hears the hint of affection in her voice.

“Hey, you two look great! Do you need anything?” Mickey asks enthusiastically. His shifty eyes and overly wide smile instantly making Bradley edgy.

“Where’d that trash bag you had earlier go, Fanboy?” he asks warily.

“That’s for me to know and Javy to find out about later,” Mickey says slyly.

Rooster and Nat exchange a look.

This was the thing he was worried about when Cyclone had announced the news earlier in the week that they’d all tentatively have the next couple of months off through the new year. A well-earned break. No extra assignments. No extra transfers or additional training seminars.

Mav had told him in confidence that there was one small deployment that might get approved near Thanksgiving and that he was going to pull some string to see what information he could find out about it. Bradley was hoping that you might ask him to come home with you and meet your parents, so he had his fingers crossed that his name was left off that list.

The mood on base was already light. Mickey and Javy had started a series of pranks against each other that had slowly been escalating over the last few days. And Rooster knew that this extroverted bunch would be leaning in at full force and cutting loose tonight.

“Can you do me a favor, man? Can you hold off on the pranks for an hour, I don’t want you guys to scare her off the second she walks through the door.”

“She’s met us, she knows how we are.”

“I think that’s that point,” Nat quips.

“She likes us and we like her, so what’s there to worry about?” Fanboy asks rhetorically.

“Not all at once,” Bradley mutters.

“Lighten up, Rooster! I’m sure she’ll get here soon. In the meantime, go have some of the Potion of Peril punch that I made. I promise we’ll be on our best behavior. I won’t even ask her to grab something from the fridge for me,” Fanboy says that last part with a concerning laugh as he scurries away.

“You won’t what? Wait, Fanboy, come back,” Rooster calls after Mickey. He sees Payback dressed as Marty McFly coming down the stairs, and catches him. “Reuben, hey, what’s in the fridge?”

“Mickey has been collecting all of our empty jars for weeks now. He filled the damn fridge with jars of heads. It scared the shit out of me the first time I saw all of them. I haven’t been able to find the open container of mayo for days, and I’m tired of eating dry sandwiches.” Payback lets out the biggest sigh and rolls his eyes before he leaves them making his way over towards Coyote and Hangman still by the patio.

“See, Nat? This is what I’m worried about. We’re a lot, in more ways than one.”

Bradley pulls out his phone again, probably for the fifth time since he’s arrived and begins working on a text to send her. There’s nothing wrong with a little heads up and if he can get a little update from you then he’ll consider it a win.

“Well, if it ain’t Rooster,” he hears Hangman call out from across the room.

“We just did this, man,” he tosses back, not bothering to look up from his phone.

“Hey! Bradshaw’s girl has got a better set of abs than he does!” someone else calls out.

That gets his attention.

“What the fuck are you guys talking about?” he grunts irritably, as he tries to put his phone back in his pocket.

He doesn’t get a response because Phoenix is already turning him towards the entryway, the room erupting in a series of hoots and hollers as the rest of the party takes notice of your costume.

You’re shifting a little on your feet under the attention, there’s a small shy smile on your face and you have your pretty eyes already trained on him.

Hangman wasn’t kidding when he said you had a better set of abs than him.

You’re wearing a pair of frayed light blue denim shorts with a truly impressive screen-printed washboard stomach is on full display tucked into them. Over that you had on the Hawaiian print shirt he’d left at your place on accident this morning, it was one of his favorites with all its bright colors, along with a pair of sunglasses dangling from the pocket.

There was no mistaking who you’ve come dressed up as, not with that striking press-on mustache you were wearing.

It’s all he can do to just stand there and stare at you.

You’ve always been so damn beautiful, and even with a felt mustache on your face, you can make his heart pound away in his chest. Not to mention, he really likes the way you look in his shirt.

Your face lights up as you take him in too. Your eyes sweeping over his two-sizes-too-small shirt and the white short-shorts that left nothing to the imagination.

There is such fondness on your face he can’t believe how he’d let himself get so twisted in knots.

He forgets about all of his friends and their commotion as he struts over to you taking your face between his hands and kissing you. You make a little noise of surprise that he uses to his advantage to slip his tongue into your mouth.

When one of his friends catcalls them, he waves them off with one of his hands, and then drops it down to your ass to pull you in closer to him.

A flash goes off, the light bright behind his eyes.

He can feel the laughter bubbling out of your chest before comes out of your mouth, even he fights to tamper down his own amusement in favor of kissing you more.

Pulling away Bradley gently takes your chin between his finger and thumb turning your head left and right to admire your costume of choice, up close and personal.

“I gotta say, sweetheart, you’re really working that mustache.”

“I get your attachment to it. I think I wear it pretty well,” you say looking very pleased with yourself. You reach up and affectionately brush your fingers along his own.

He’d thought about shaving it off for the sake of his costume, but ultimately couldn’t go through with it. And now he’s really glad he didn’t.

“It’s not just that ‘stache you’re wearing well,” Bradley says low just for her, toying with the hem of his shirt draped on you. “You know I like the way you look in my clothes.”

He can’t help up enjoy the way you’re getting bashful under his appreciative gaze and compliments.

“I had to make sure you got the shirt back somehow,” you say with a smile.

“So it can end up on the floor of my bedroom instead?” he teases, kissing your cheek.

“I like the sound of that, and not just because my bedroom looks like a crime scene.” He cocks his head at you, but you just shake your own at him in response before continuing, “But I’m letting you know right now, the mustache is staying on when you have your way with me.”

“You have yourself a deal as long as you share your routine with me,” he murmurs, running a finger down the line of the faux abs of your tank top. “Can’t say I remember seeing these this morning in the shower. I’ve got a girl to impress, so I’d be happy to show you how grateful I am for any tips and tricks.”

“Think you’re doing just fine in those short-short of yours,” you reply, taking a step back to give him a thorough once over, “What inspired this eyeful of an ensemble?”

“I knew the shorts would make my ass look good,” he says with a shrug that send you into a fit of giggles. He’s ready to skip the party all together, in favor of appreciating how good you look outside of your costume. Your eyes are dancing with amusement and he finds himself wanted to admit more, “And because, you know…”

He thought his costume idea had been pretty witty, but now he felt a little sheepish because he didn’t want you to think he was being corny. Sure the shorts had been the thing that sealed the deal, but he’d picked good boy Danny Zuko for a reason.

“No, Bradley, I don’t think I do. Will you explain it to me?”

“Summer lovin’ happened so fast and all that.”

“‘And all that’, huh?” And there’s that look of your, he was absolutely putty in your hands when you looked at him like that. “Ok, ok, but I need to know,” you pause for moment, and look up at him with a very serious expression, “Did you have yourself a blast?”

He watches as you bite your bottom lip trying not to laugh at your own joke.

And in that moment, he just knows.

The sureness had been taking up residence in his bones since he’d first convinced you that trying to keep it casual with you wouldn’t cut it for him.

“Would now be a bad time to tell you that I love you?” he asks, threading his fingers through beltloops to pull you in closer to him.

“While I’m wearing a tank top with a six-pack dressed up as you? Seems a little narcissistic, does it not?” He’s never seen your smile this big or this bright before.

He knows. He knows. He knows.

Rooster pulls you back in for a deep kiss.

“I love you too, Bradley,” you murmur against his lips.

He kisses you until he can’t keep the smile off of his face.

“Hey, Bradshaw!”

Surprised, he pulls away from you to see Nat waving him over. He takes your hand, ready to take you over with him.

“No, not you. The better Bradshaw,” Phoenix announces as she points at you, crooking a finger and holding out a shot syringe for you.

You pull him to you, giving him one more quick before floating over to join Nat near the kitchen.

He’s feeling more than a little dumbstruck in that moment.

And not just from the sight of your shapely legs in those cutoff jean shorts.

Bradley’s feet feel cemented to the wood floors beneath his black hightop converse as he watches you throw your head back in laughter at something Nat says.

He doesn’t want to get ahead of himself, but he thinks his last name looks good on you.

You smile wide and beaming, your eyes shining as you turn to look at him from across the other side of the room.

Yeah, it looks really good on you.

Happy Halloween, Friends! This little moment has been living in my head since I posted my first ever fic on here, 'Oh Christmas Tree'! I'm so glad to finally release it to share with you! Thank you for reading!

If you want to find out what happened next for these two, just follow the link above!

If you're curious about what all of their costumes look like, you can see them here!

You can read more of my stories here!

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[biglisbonnews]

Lil' Kim and Coi Leray Celebrate Women in Hip-Hop With Spotify What is it you wear when you’re feeling yourself? Whether you’re zipping into LBDs, catwalk-ready catsuits or B-Girl booty shorts, the impact of women in hip-hop is inescapable in fashion, inspiring styles that encourage wearers to be themselves and feel themselves unapologetically. To celebrate the contributions of women in hip-hop to the fashion industry and to present Lil’ Kim with the Women in Hip-Hop Fashion Icon award, Spotify hosted its first-ever runway featuring designs from LIONNE by Latoia Fitzgerald. The emerging Philadelphia-raised designer is behind celebrity styles worn by the likes of Jhené Aiko and Karrueche Tran, blending class and sex appeal to pay homage to the history of fashion in hip-hop with a modern edge. Related | The Evolution of Coi LerayWorking the runway in sexy cut-outs, symmetrical silhouettes and skin-baring ensembles, Spotify’s models included industry innovators, pack leaders and up-and-comers from Doechii to Rubi Rose to Baby Tate. With an apt opening with “Whole Lotta Money” and other hits from BIA and a surprise runway performance of “Hey, Mickey!” and “I Am” by Baby Tate, the runway came to life, celebrating the crossover between fashion and music, and, of course, Lil’ Kim, who has seamlessly blended the two throughout her career. ​In the show’s culminating act, PAPER covergirl Coi Leray took to the stage, performing “Players” and “Blick Blick.” As someone who’s undergone many evolutions since her skyrocket to success in 2019, Coi Leray’s style still shakes up (and shakes ass). Embracing playful colors and silhouettes she can physically play in, Leray’s style serves as an extension of her innate confidence and sex appeal. Popularizing little-booty booty shorts and performing in sneakers over heels, Leray proves herself a beacon of authenticity to new generations without ever skipping out on the opportunity for good glam.PAPER caught up with the viral sensation before the show to discuss her own icons and inspirations. Who are some style influences of yours? We definitely have Lil’ Kim. We have Janet Jackson. We have Teyona Taylor’s amazing style. RIhanna, of course. And there’s also girls like Paris Hilton back in the day. Even now she kills it with all the glam and the glitter. I love that. Lady Gaga was one of my favorites. There’s so many freaking icons, I’m falling in love. Now that I’m more in the fashion industry, and I did YSL, I’m more intrigued and passionate about what goes on behind the scenes. What have you learned behind the scenes of the industry that you didn’t know before? I didn't know behind the scenes is so much pressure. It's so much competition. It's a lot of competition. So you really have to do what you can and have the best team. Sometimes the shoes don't fit or you have to fix something right before you go on and it's like everybody is losing their minds. I even realized how hard it is to get the models in a line sometimes because it's so chaotic backstage. When you see the runway you only know half of the shit that's going on. People have to have tough skin and cannot fold under pressure. I really learned that, looking behind the scenes. You’ve probably had to have tough skin in the music industry, too. What has motivated you through it? I love to motivate and be an influence to all of the young girls, especially when it comes to my body. I feel like I get a million DMs with girls telling me, from all over the world, like, “You inspire me so much,” or “I’ve never worn booty shorts, but after you I’m wearing my booty shorts.” It’s so funny. It just feels good when you can actually come together on a positive note. Anything that’s negative or weird, I just move away from it. As women, we need to just big each other up with support and appreciation — if we’re big enough we could change the world. What’s giving you positive energy right now? What are you excited to see in the industry?I love the fact that Caresha from the City Girls is acting. I love the City Girls. I think that they’re so open. She’s on BMF now. I think that’s so dope. I’m excited to see people do things that are unpredictable because you never know what’s next. I love to sit back and watch people progress and show their capabilities. It’s a competition always, but it’s a friendly competition. It’s like track. At the end of the day, if we were to race, we’d still be on the same team. Whoever wins or gets the number one spot, we’re still on the same team and support each other.​What are you looking forward to for your Spotify “Feelin’ Myself” performance? I look forward to just giving a great show. I saw the stage and it's amazing. I look forward to the outfit. Spotify’s Feelin’ Myself [playlist] has been a big part of my career. I've been on a couple of [the playlist’s] covers. So this is so fulfilling. What songs of yours have been on the playlist? “Players,” “No More Parties,” “Slide,” — shit, “Wasted,” too, they supported all my records.With the “Players” remixes, you really tapped into your Jersey roots. Are you loving Jersey club being on the rise? It's amazing. I'm super excited for DJ Smallz and DJ Saige. I think that they paved the way for DJs in general with mixing songs together and using their platform on TikTok to get people really engaging in it, so shout out to them and all the DJs that supported “Players.” David Guetta and I did a collab on “Players.” That dropped on March 13, and then we also have another super surprise I’ll give PAPER the exclusive for. We got David Guetta on the EDM party techno, crazy remix and then we got Busta Rhymes on a DJ Saige version [coming soon] — so just know that’s gonna be major. He snapped. Like this is also going to teach a lot of people in the younger generation, remind them who they are — who he is — to encourage people to go back and do some research, because a lot of people got their inspiration from Busta — even Grandmaster Flash, everybody, shoutout to the OGs that contribute to the music today. We are inspired. They don’t get enough credit. Do you try to connect those dots for people? So even if you’re a “viral artist” there’s more of a history to it? I feel like I have eyes on me all the time. I don’t try to make it good or bad — as long as I got your attention, I can utilize my platform to educate, and a lot of people deserve their flowers. I'm one of the people who didn't get a lot of my flowers coming in, so I'll give people flowers who also felt like that. It’s very important and that's how we're gonna change the world. Support! Support! Support! Come together and support.What is your message to the new girls? For the new girls, honestly, just stay focused. Don't get wrapped in drama. Don't get wrapped into bullshit, give credit when it's due. And you know, I felt like you also have to do your own shit. Have your own style, have your own swag and just like run with that. Three words to describe your style?Versatile, sexy — I’m a whole sex symbol — and badass. Just ready for whatever.Photos via Getty https://www.papermag.com/coi-leray-spotify-lil-kim-2659636939.html

[darlingshane]

when you call me darling

Swaino x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ Warnings: Explicit. Sex Work. Cam Girl. Smut. Fingering. Vaginal Sex. Panty Kink. Edgeplay.

WC: 5,6k

Summary: You're meeting Swaino for the first time face to face. It should be simple except for the fact that you work as a cam girl, and he's one of your most loyal clients.

-- Read below or at AO3.

A/N: This is fiction. Please stay safe and don't do this if you're a cam sex worker, unless that's your thing. // Fair warning: I use the word darling 18 times in here. And I gave reader a fake name for her online profile.

 You've totally lost your mind…

The words of your friend echo over and over in your head, minutes away from meeting Swaino. Maybe you have really lost it by agreeing to meet one of your members in person, but you're safe here. You picked this pub that Bridget owns exclusively because she's there behind the bar in case this whole thing is a bust. It eases you up knowing that she's close by. The thing that worries you the most is when he realizes you're not the same girl from the website. She's part of you, and looks like you, sure, but she's bolder and sexier and less scared in front of a camera than in real life. You should probably call it, he's going to see immediately through the veil of smoke. Your posture alone; you're so anxious right now that you can't hold yourself as poised as you do in all your pictures and videos.

All your interactions so far have been virtually ever since Swaino came upon your profile on Kinky Fans about three months ago. He started purchasing a handful of pictures and videos of Sweet Lexi, your online persona, before signing up for a full membership to access all your content. He went further and bought one of the priciest perks you offered, and one of those was an exclusive video made just for him where you get off in a pair of panties, and then you'd send said-pair-of-underwear to the buyer. After that, he even got two more in the following weeks. He claimed he was not a panty sniffer, and that you had awoken something on him, he couldn't truly explain. He was completely infatuated with you, that's for sure, and part of you loved that someone was getting off to the smell of you somewhere not too far away. You sent all those to a town in New Hampshire, roughly 50 miles away from your home city, Boston.

A month later or so, you accepted his request to face cam privately. It was one of those things you've only done a handful of times, cause live interactions and streams have always stressed you out. Swaino seemed sweet in his messages and wasn't demanding or degrading like any other you got constantly, so you decided to give him a chance.

By his profile picture, you couldn’t tell shit about how he looked, since it was just a snapshot of a red motorcycle. When he popped out on your screen during your call, you could only see his top half, but he was surprisingly good-looking at first glance. He didn't have the same quality webcam or the lighting set-up that you had strategically placed to highlight your best features and make yourself look better; but you could tell he had a handsome face with strong angles, held on broad shoulders and a thick neck.

His eyes were kind and playful, and his lips were sexy as hell, framed by a beard, in the shape of a goatee. You weren't particularly fond of that style, but it suited him.

Most guys you had interacted with live like this never show themselves on cam, they would stay in the shadows behind a random profile picture, watching and asking you to do this and that while they masturbated. Swaino was different, he wanted that connection and went the extra mile of giving you the opportunity to see his face.

He was plainly wearing a black hoodie, half opened, with no visible shirt underneath, just two gold necklaces hanging around his neck.

You, however, were laying sideways on your bed, showing your whole figure dressed in provocative red, lacy lingerie set of bustier and panties.

Within the first three minutes, you fell for the Swaino of it all. He’s a talker, which works great, cause firstly you weren't good at first impressions. Secondly, the longer he'd stay on the line, the more money you'd get. And thirdly, it gave you the opportunity to meet someone genuine that didn't want you just to take off your clothes right off the bat. He needed to seduce you, and he absolutely did.

It was shocking, though, to find someone different for a change, you almost felt sorry for collecting his money.

He asked how was your day going to break the ice, and then a series of mundane questions that eased you up into performing for him. Being behind a screen was very liberating. You felt sexy seeing him react to the way you moved, and how you took off your underwear, touching yourself teasingly over the fabric, and wetting that fourth pair that you'd sent to him the next day. Though he had seen it all already, he looked transfixed as if it was the first time he ever set his eyes on you.

It went on like that for weeks. Some days he only wanted to talk about everything and anything going on in your lives, and you did so for hours until you learned almost everything about each other. He was incredibly funny, sort of douche-bag sometimes for the stories he told about his friends and work, but it was part of his charm, and you couldn’t deny being a little attracted to it all. It made you crazy enough to agree to meet in person.

Preparing yourself for a face to face meet, you poked around his socials and saw for yourself if he was the guy he said. He didn't have much presence online. Only Facebook and Instagram accounts that were basically ghost towns. He had only a few pictures with friends and family, a dog, and that red bike you got used to seeing whenever he interacted with you, or indirectly with your profile.

And now, here you are, at Bridget's pub, downing a soda while you wait. He’s fifteen minutes late. He probably hit traffic on the way in, or maybe he got cold feet and decided not to show up at all. You check your phone and there’s nothing. Would it be bad to be a little disappointed if he doesn't come? Probably. One thing everyone said to you when you went looking for advice at the beginning of your career at Kinky Fans was never to meet in person subscribers and such. If they pay, they might feel entitled to something else, and could get really ugly really fast, they said. You’ve made it clear that this isn’t part of what you do online. This is just two people meeting. Nothing else, nothing more.

“Still late?” Bridget interrupts your train of thought, “what’s it been, half an hour?”

“Uh, yeah. He must be close,” you glance at her, “don’t look at me like that. He said he’d come.”

“You really like him, don't you?”

“Not really…” crossing your arms on the edge of the table, you let out a long sigh,“I like some things about him. And I wanted to see if there was something more, you know? But maybe you were right. Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“He'll show up if he knows what's good.”

He has to show up, right? You start to doubt everything he’s ever told you as Bridget goes back to work. And just as you start thinking that you’re being stood up, you see him walk past the window. You recognize him by his signature goatee and perfect hair before he steps inside the bar.

Without being too eager, you draw some air and wait a couple of seconds, as he scans the crowd, before rising from your chair and putting your hand up midair.

His eyes land on you, and you put your hand down. He quickly nods and walks in your direction. You notice he's carrying a small bouquet as he gets closer.

When he stops and stands in front of you, you both open your mouths simultaneously to greet the other.

 “Hey.”  “Hi.”

“I'm sorry, I'm late. I got stuck at work, and then I stopped to get these…”  he apologizes, smiling nervously, showing you the flowers in his hand, “I know you said—”

“It's okay,” you cut him off, “I'm just glad you came. Dahlias, huh?”

“Your favorite flower,” he swallows, holding the bouquet out, “here.”

“Thanks,” nodding shyly, you brush his fingers as you take the flowers from his hand.

You sit back down on your chair, and place the dahlias on the table. He takes off his jacket and sits across from you.

Swaino stares at you for a long moment with those big brown eyes of his that seem naughtier up close before exhaling with longing, “you're even prettier than I thought.”

“You're cuter than I thought,” you smirk, propping an elbow on the table, holding your chin on your palm.

“Ah, c'mon, don't give me cute,” he whines comically, leaning back on his chair, “puppies are cute.”

You shrug, amused, “you kinda look like a big puppy in a hoodie.”

He scoffs, and hangs his head down.

“Alright, you're very handsome, Mr. Swaino. That better?”

“Did you say very?” gazing at you bashfully, a strand of his hair moves across the side of his forehead, “I wasn't fishing for that, but I'll take it.”

“You're also very humble.”

And you thought meeting him would be awkward. It surprises you how quickly you ease up. Screen or no screen, you fall into your usual banter the way that you’ve been used to for the last  few weeks. Talking to him always felt very easy, it shouldn't be different face-to-face, unless he turns out to be an asshole. Which you haven't ruled out yet.

“Do you want a drink?” you ask.

“Uh, sure.”

You wave at one of the waiters, but it's Bridget that comes to take your order.

“Flowers? God, you're easy,” Bridget sighs dramatically.

“Don't tell him that.”

“Right, cause axe murderers care if you're easy or not.”

“Actually, I'm a… a strangler,” Swaino quips between your conversation, “guitar strings are my usual go-to, but I can use anything at hand.”

“That's not funny.”

“Can you just take his order without harassing him?”

“That's not gonna happen. I need to see your ID first,” she says without an ounce of amusement, staring at him.

“What?” his brow knits in confusion, “do I look like I'm underage?”

“Won't get served until you do.”

“Just show it to her.”

He scoffs and reaches for his wallet in his jean's pocket to produce his ID, and hands it to your friend.

“Okay, Mr. Terrance Swaino, if that's your real name, from Manchester, New Hampshire,” she announces a little over the top, scanning his ID thoroughly.

“That is my real name,” he utters, a tad intimidated.

“If something happens to her, I know where you live now.” Bridget continues, handing his ID back, throwing him a menacing look, “And I have a gun. We could all end up on Dateline if you dare to touch one of her hairs. Got it?”

“Yes, ma'am. Can I get a beer now?”

“Draft?”

“Sure.”

“I'm sorry,” you say after she's gone, “she can be a little intense.”

“Nah, that's fine, darling. She's just looking out for you. I get it.”

A smile lightens up your face, hearing him call you the usual pet name he picked out for you.

   That's right, darling.  

   You're so beautiful like that, darling.  

   I wanna suck your tits, darling.  

   You make me so hard, darling.  

   Come for me, darling.  

Those are his usual chants when he's watching you pleasuring yourself. It sends fire to your core seeing that falling from his plush lips every damn time. Including now, you feel that sweet tingle at your crux, and you press your thighs together, hoping he doesn't notice the effect he has on you.

“You okay?” he questions. He must have seen it in your face, that grows hotter by the second.

“Mm-hmm,” you take a long sip of your drink as one of the waiters brings his beer.

Swaino leans back against his chair and tilts his glass up to his lips. Without taking his eyes off you, he downs almost half of it before opening his mouth again.

“Are you going to tell me your real name?”

Your head turns to the side, and you glance out the window for a beat.

“What? You know mine,” he scoffs, “I can call you Sweet Lexi in public if you prefer, but something tells me you don't wanna.”

“Shhh, no, don't call me that,” you hesitate, and pause, “I guess it's fair to tell you, since I know yours… just promise to keep it to yourself. I can't have people online figuring out my real name, you know?”

“Okay, promise.”

You clear your throat and utter your actual name, watching his lips curve up as you do.

“See, that suits you better.”

“Yeah?” you fold your arms on the table, lean forwards, and confess openly, “I… I like it when you call me darling.”

With a grin plastered on his face, he swipes his tongue across his bottom lip, and mirrors your position, leaning even further, so his face is just a couple of inches away from yours, as a flaming electricity is held in the air between you and him.

“I like when you call me baby,” he hushes.

“Oh, I know.”

“Do you call that to every guy or just me?

“Why? Would it make you feel special if I did?”

He simply shrugs.

“I don’t talk to guys the way I talk to you, but sometimes I have… I…” you pause, clear your throat, and glance around before uttering, “most guys are older than you and prefer other terms.”

His brow knits, “like what? Daddy?”

You nod.

“Would you call me daddy if I asked you to?”

“Client’s choice, baby. I probably wouldn’t like it, but I’d do it.”

“Say, what else do you like about me, darling?” He circles back.

“I like your nose.”

“This nose?” the tip of his nose strokes yours, side to side, “what else?”

“I like your lips.”

“Hmm, do you want me to kiss you?”

Your chip dips, “are you going to?”

“I would, but I’m afraid your friend will shoot me if I do.”

“She won't,” a soft laugh bares your teeth.

“Either way, it'd be worth it, right?” he purrs, and licks his lips, arming himself with valor.

He unfolds one of his arms to trace your jaw with his index finger, ever so subtly, as your eyelashes flutter. This fingertip stops beneath your chin, and slightly tilts your head up, so he can capture your mouth.

His beard tickles your skin as his lips slowly bounce against yours, pressing a few tender kisses.

“Are you really that easy?” he stops kissing you, but his lips remain painfully close to yours, wrapped in a raw intimacy of hushed words between both mouths.

“I guess… only when I want to. Would you think less of me if I told you that I wanna take you to my place already?”

“Oh, baby. I'd never think less of you. You're a fucking dream come true. I respect a woman that quickly makes up her mind like that.”

“I've never done this before. You know… meeting a client.”

“I know.”

“That's not what I do,” you point out again, in case you haven't made it clear yet.

“I know, darling. I'm just surprised that you wanted to meet me at all. Are you trying to decide if you should take me home or not?”

“Kinda,” you bite your bottom lip, questioning yourself if you should. “I like you, Swaino. You just have to promise you'll be nice.”

“I will. I swear,” he exhales with urgency, “I fucking promise, I won't hurt you.”

He brought his car for the trip. You climb into the passenger seat, and guide him a few blocks away, where your apartment's settled. It's brand new, you've been living here for less than a year. When your profile took off, and you started making big bucks, it gave you the opportunity to move to a bigger, industrial apartment. It's a three bedroom/two bathroom. Big open space and arched windows. One of the bedrooms is where you work. You keep that door closed for now.

After all the formalities of showing him inside, dropping your keys on its tray, taking off your winter layers, and having another drink to soothe yourself smoothly into the whole thing, you take him to your bedroom at the end of the hallway, and slip out of your shoes.

With a little trepidation, you sit on the edge of the bed and watch him step out of his Nikes.

“Take off your hoodie,” you utter, and he obeys with no question, slowly unzipping his hoodie. He wants to show himself as much as he wants to see you.

“See anything you like, darling?” he grins, tossing the hoodie to the chair in the corner, as you find yourself staring like an idiot at his muscled-broad chest.

“Mm-hmm,” it’s not enough to express how much you want him right now.

You draw a long breath, and gingerly remove your sweater under the shadow of his dark eyes. Afterwards, you unclasp your bra at the front to release your tits.

“You're fucking perfect, darling,” he hushes under his breath.

“C'mere, baby,” you pull at his belt, and scoot backwards on the mattress, pulling him along till he ends up on top of you.

One of his legs ends up wedged between your knees, as he props himself on his forearms. He inhales and seals your lips, as your arms curl around his torso. Taking it slowly, you make out as you get comfortable into the whole ordeal of having him here, in your home, in your room, in your bed. It's hard to let go of that thought. His tongue swiping past your lips makes it easier. He's firm, unpredictable, and sloppy at first. But maybe he's just trying to figure out your mouth. It doesn't feel bad, though. No sir. Not once he's found the best way to make you hum at the swirling of his kiss. Makes you giddy and relaxed every passing second.

The lock of your legs open, and you nudge him to have him nestle in between.

His body feels amazingly against your chest and palms. Your fingers glide up his spine, and you catch his skin turning into goosebumps as his hips start waving against yours. There are two layers of thick denim between his erection and your slicked folds, but you can definitely feel him swelling.

And all of a sudden, you can feel your core anxiously throbbing at the desperate grinding of his hardness.

He breaks the kiss, and angles himself to the side to make room for his fingers that trail down your body to undo the buttons of your jeans. He tugs them down to your knees before letting his hand sneak beneath the elastic of your panties without hesitation.

He doesn't ask verbally, but nods at you as a warning that he's going straight for the cake. You nod back and close your eyes when his fingers reach your slit.

“Fuck, darling,” he exhales, soaking his fingers in your arousal.

Your eyes flick open, locking with his bloodlust browns that are ready to scorch the earth with just one gaze. He starts with your core, though. His touch, as good as it feels having your clit to play with, doesn't have the same effect as the way he looks at you right now. It's probably you've grown used to having him watch you masturbate. It's always been enticing from the get-go to allow his eyes to witness the way you undress and pleasure yourself for him behind a camera.

He has a front seat now that comes with VIP access to your body like no other member has ever had. It looks like that's what he desires, to watch you come by his hand that anxiously rubs harder to make you lose the little control you had until that point.

You rotate your hips involuntarily and ball the sheets as his fingers poke and slip at your entrance. He keeps them in, massaging the roof, as the vicious pressure of his thumb meeting your clit repeatedly drags you to the edge.

“Do you think about me touching your pussy like this?” Asks Swaino.

“Sometimes,” your breathing falters over his mouth.

“Yeah? Wanna come for me, darling?”

“Hmm.”

“Go on, beautiful,” he purrs, kissing your lips, “don't be shy.”

Letting him take you to ecstasy, you bring one hand to hold onto his neck, as our legs start trembling near that crucial point. A few strokes after, you let a strangled moan, and clasp your knees together, trapping his hand between your thighs when you come undone.

“Good girl,” he praises, and peppers your face and neck with kisses, feeling your opening contracting around his fingers before pulling them out, “can I kiss your pussy?”

You huff a laugh in between pants, “later, I… I can’t right now, baby.”

“Just a quick kiss. I swear, I just wanna get a taste of you.”

“Alright, go ahead,” you breathe out and part your legs further, as your body relaxes.

Swaino licks his lips and ducks his head towards your crotch. With a finger, he gently strokes one side of your outer labia before pressing a small but lingering kiss. He stays there for a moment, humming softly, smelling, and savoring your taste without even stimulating your tenderness.

Basking in the afterglow, you lace your fingers in his hair until he comes back to you.

“I’d eat you all up if I could,” he prints a wet kiss in between your breasts as he climbs back up.

“I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

“You’re a fucking dream,” he reiterates.

“You already said that.”

“Bears repeating,” he cups your jaw.

“You’re sweet.”

“I’m a sweet puppy, I know,” he scoffs.

“Are you always like this with all your conquests?”

“Truth?” his brow raises, and you nod, “no, I’m not always like this. You’re special.”

“Me or Lexi?”

“You sweetheart, you. I mean… Yes, I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t think about her… but it’s you, she’s partly you, and you move like her, sound like her, and come like her… It’s…”

“It’s complicated.”

“Yes… but I want you. I swear.”

“Good. Come here, puppy,” you frame his face and pull him into a kiss. Now that you’ve recovered fully, as you play with his tongue, you use your feet to push your bottom layers that were still wrapped around your ankles. Then, in return, you start undoing his pants and see that he’s still hard as you palm him over his boxers.

He’s shown you his cock a couple of times. Pictures are always tricky, he looked big from the angle you saw. And he feels just as big in your fist as your fingers tuck around his hardness.

“Wanna fuck me now, baby?” You hush, pulling away from his delicious lips, and he grunts when you jerk him a little harder, “look at you, you’re so desperate for a fuck, are you?”

“God, you’re gonna kill me,” he grumbles. You know he likes it when you talk to him like that. A few times you’ve played with orgasm control, either him controlling you or the other way around. It’s very enjoyable to see him struggling when you have the power.

“What if I tell you that you can fuck me as hard as you want?” it’s then that you slide your fingers under the fabric and feel his aching erection, throbbing in your fist, wet at the tip.

“I’d say there’s a pretty good chance that I’ll come before my cock touches your pussy if you keep talking to me like that, darling.”

“Yeah?” you laugh softly, and release him, “go on, take off your pants and put on a condom.”

He obeys and once he’s stripped down and wrapped his dick, he kneels between your legs, extends your arms over your head, as his lips drag up from navel up to your neck. He kisses your tits on the way up, flattening his tongue over your hardened nipples and giving them a good licks and little sucks.

You can feel his length tapping your pussy as he bathes you with kisses, spit, and the scrape of his beard that feels amazing on your skin. It makes you ache for more, and you reach with your hand to guide him inside you.

“Look, who is desperate for a fuck now,” he parts from your chest and props himself to his hands, gazing down to see your hand sheathing him in the sweet confinement of your walls.

A shiver runs up his spine, and he thrusts on reflex at the sensation of your opening pressing around him.

“Fuck yeah,” he grunts, “like that, darling?”

“Yeah,” you grip at his waist, looking down at the same point where your sexes meet, and pull him harder against you. He gazes with hunger at your wobbly boobs, dancing with every thrust, and he sends one of his giant paws to clutch one of them. He stays propped on the other, as the pace of his driving grows more sharp and erratic.

You can tell he’s not going to last soon by the way he twitches inside you, so you use your fingers to rub your clit.

“That a girl, come with me,” he urges, as his face contours, and the hand on your tit moves to hold your face. His thumb nears the corner of your mouth, and you stick your tongue out to suck it between your lips and watch him struggle close to the end.

“You’re fucking mean, too. I swear. You're killing me,” he groans, and you smile around his finger.

You suck on harder, and rub yourself faster until he inevitably falls on top of you when the orgasm claims his body, taking him to cloud nine. It takes you a moment to be there with him, but eventually you do too.

His nose is buried in your neck, and his length is still semi hard inside you, as you catch your breath.

“My goodness, you smell amazing.”

You fit one hand to his nape, smiling to yourself as you come down from your high.

“That was… fucking great, baby,” you utter gruffly and clear your throat.

“Yeah? You’re glad that I came?” He lifts his head to look at you.

“I do. Yeah.”

“Wanna go for seconds later?” he sweetly brushes away the hair strand sticking to your forehead.

“Absolutely.”

“How are you even real, darling?”

“Maybe I’m not… maybe you’re dreaming.”

“Nah, I don’t think so. You feel pretty real,” he tilts his head and captures your lips ever so gently.

It’s later than you order dinner and hang out on that same bed, just watching TV and feasting like kings and queens without any worries in the world, as if you’d have done it many times before. The longer you’re with him, the more obvious the chemistry between you two becomes. It’s palpable in the way you laugh and talk with each other.

“Can I ask you something?” he mumbles, having his arm wrapped around you, cuddled against the headboard while you watch a movie.

“Sure,” you half glance at him, as you play with his fingers.

“You don’t gotta answer if you don’t wanna, but I’m just curious why you show your face in your pics and videos.”

“Hmm, I don’t know. I used to crop it at the beginning, but I… I guess I like being watched. All of me. Not just my body. I felt…” you pause, seeing him listening closely, “I used to have very low self-esteem and when I put myself out there the first time it was just for fun. One day I got all these comments, telling me how sexy I was, and that made me feel good… and eventually I just didn't care about showing my face. I don’t know if that makes sense. The Internet is filled with porn now. I’m not worried that someone will find me. My closest friends know what I do, and I don’t think my family will ever figure it out. “

“Yeah, it makes perfect sense, darling.”

“Can I ask you something now?”

“Go ahead.”

“What do you do with my panties?”

He scoffs and looks to the other side for a beat, “you don’t wanna know.”

“C’mon, I wanna know,” you insist, amused, and cup his chin to guide his eyes back to you.

“I uh…” he struggles to get the words out, as his ears turn red, “don’t judge me.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“I ruined two pairs. I wanted to… and I just rubbed a couple using them, you know? Made me feel closer to you or whatever. I washed them, but it's not the same anymore.”

“What about the other two?”

“I just like smelling them sometimes. Do you think that’s weird?”

“Swaino…. Why would I think it’s weird? It’s flattering, actually.”

“Yeah? Makes you feel sexy and special?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Can I…” his lips pull up on a lopsided smile.

“What?”

“Can I see where you work?”

“Why?”

“I just want to see where I met you. Can I? C'mon, I know you wanna show me,” the cocky bastard insists, and you fold and take him to the other room.

“See? It's just a room,” you give him the full tour of it. There's a queen bed with a metal-framed headboard and a side table.  A desk parallel to the end of the bed with your computer and a light pointing towards your stage. A dresser filled with toys, and a mirror on top and makeup case on the surface. A chair in the corner, and a closet.

“Turn on the fancy lights, would you?”

There's nothing fancy about the LED lights that illuminate the back of your bed. You set them on a dark shade of blue, and then switch off the ceiling light.

“It's so weird,” he utters from behind the desk.

“I told you.”

“No, not like that. It just gives me…. What's the word? Dejuju?”

“You mean déjà vu?”

“Yeah, I'm having one of those right now. I feel like I’ve been here before,” he walks around the desk and sits at the end of the mattress.

He kinda has. Multiple times.

You sigh and get on the bed, crawling at his back, curling your arms around his neck.

“That’s where I see you,” you point at the reflection in the shiny surface of the black screen in front of you.

“I figured.”

“You wanna fuck me here, don’t you?” you whisper in his ear and nibble playfully his earlobe.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Baby… every guy wants to fuck me here.”

“So, I’m not that special.”

“You’re here, aren't you? You wouldn't be if you weren't. What do you wanna do with me?” As much as you want to keep this space separate, you can’t stop yourself from wanting to please him right now. You’re having so much fun that it really doesn’t matter if he fucks you here or anywhere.

“Seriously?”  

“Yeah, seriously. Tell me your fantasy.”

“I uh… I don't really have a fantasy,” his brow knits, as he gives it a thought.

“What's your favorite video of mine?”

His lips automatically curve up at your question, “I mean besides the ones you've made for me? I guess… the one you did with Scary Mary was pretty good.”

Of course, he likes that one. You've done a couple of collaborations with two other girls, and your most popular video yet in your channel is one you did last year with your friend Mary. It was titled– Brat learns manners feat. Scary Mary. She's one of the top tier stars in Kinky Fans, and the majority of her content is BDSM related. You're into some aspects of it, but you haven't really explored further than some light bondage and impact play.

“Well, I'm not doing that with you.”

“It's okay, darling. I guess my only fantasy was getting to fuck you. I didn't have an elaborate plan… just plain ol' fucking.”

“That was a great fuck, baby. We could do what we usually do. You tell me what you want from me and I do it… within reason.”

“Hmm, that simple?”

“That simple. What’s it going to be?”

Even simpler, he just chooses to remove your shirt, and have you sit naked on his lap. Facing that screen that remains switched off, he uses the reflection and asks you to look at yourself while he pushes your legs apart and touches your pussy. He tugs at your lips and grazes every inch of your vulva before tucking two fingers inside you. His opposite hand moves up to your face and slips another two fingers into your mouth at the same time. He wants to control your orgasm, and you let him. The effect he has on you is scary and thrilling.

You keep grinding against his cock with your ass, desperate for a release the longer he draws it out. He viciously edges your orgasm three times, making a mess out of you, until he finally lets you come.

The cherry on top is when he fucks you again. He places you down on your front and spreads your cheeks to see his cock fully disappearing into your opening over and over. He makes you beg for an orgasm once again, and you comply with a lot of whining and drooling over the sheets until he finally allows you to.

[hymnoire]

A loud laughter escapes from Gaya's lips as making fun of Lee Soyoung together with Mari will always be one of her favorite passtimes. Seven families are known to be the most powerful in Seoul, all at the head of the largest corporations in the country : the Kangs, the Yoons, the Lees, the Ahns, the Chois, the Parks and finally, the Kyuns. The history of rivalry and passionnate hatred between the Lees and the Kangs are well known by now. "Hold on." Gaya speaks, her gaze up from the pages of her Dispatch magazine, the latter falling down the bed wide open, a disgusted facial expression on the heiress features. "Your father's fucking Soyoung's sister? God. Gross. Gross. Gross. Gross." Adds Gaya with her usual disdainful tone. "Well Gross due to the Lee girl, not about your father, Obviously. The man has always been such an handsome one, especially since he entered Silver Fox era. Sometimes I regret not having a daddy phase - though let's face it, I wouldn't make a very obedient baby girl." Of course Gaya is teasing knowing Mari will complain or throw something at her in disgust for fantasizing about her father, a discreet smirk on her lips - not really, it's just a joke. A fond smile then occupies the heiress lips, hearing that only her - and definitly Not Soyoung - could be chosen as Mari's maid of honor. Truth be told, when younger, Gaya would have never guessed she would one day become close enough to someone to be considered a best friend, and even less a maid of honor. Even though Bellamy and her resent each other with a burning passion, Gaya will always be thankful to him for bringing Mari into their lives. The compliment about her dress makes her rise from her lounging. "Oh yeah? Do you like it?" Pressing her hands on her own chest and then one resting over her hip, there is a little posing to showcase the magnificence of her Yves Saint Laurent , especially made for her, gifted by the brand. It is known that Kang Gaya has an impeccable taste when it comes to the dresses and lady suits that embody her natural and timeless elegant style. "You are damn right, the entire country I'm trying to have falling under my charms for me to control it better." Even if her smirk is a little mix of amused and playful, they both know it isn't no joke, not at all, to control the entire country is a plan she knows will be successful when the time is right : soon. As for breaking actual hearts, will she ? It is no secret to the entire family that Gaya is the only one left with no companion, no fiancés. It always has been a choice of the heiress, not wanting to share her life with someone just out of duties of being a Kang - it isn't always easy to defend herself on the matter as eyes are constantly on her. They will be even more at Mari's wedding, for coming alone. A sigh escapes.

"Obviously. Uncle and Bellamy, not only are conservative assholes, they clearly have added the rule to humiliate me." Gaya speaks, shaking her head slowly in what seems to be annoyance and yet, without being so surprised. This side of the family besides being cordial to her, wants nothing but to prove she shouldn't be considered the heiress of her father. "They expect me to show on my own to expose the fact I cannot offer anything stable to the Kang's name such as a husband and children. Unlike both Bellamy and perfect Seraphina. Even Aeri has a fiancée, come on." Gaya is walking around the room then, thinking, pacing, her arms crossed. Her romantic and sexual life is quite an unexpected and socially inappropriate melting pot : fake boyfriends, multiple sex partners from parties at the Red Lion on saturdays and well, women. "I have two or three fake boyfriends I can invite but I already pretended to have broken up with these ones. That would be too out of character of me to take these men back." Her thinking continues, this time her fingertip resting against her chin. "Is there anybody I can borrow from your circles? Tall sexy and silent from a good family? I promise I won't traumatize him. Or you know..." A mischievious smile on her lips. "Not voluntarily."

[notnctu]

backseat chronicles - n.jm | ridin’ club

━ welcome to the ridin’ club smut series

genre ➠ slow burn, smut, fluff, lil angst  wordcount ➠ 8.5k details ➠ fem!reader, streetracer!jaemin, badboy!jaemin, college!au ━ where Jaemin brings you to his club races as his arm candy. warnings ➠ explicit language, overstimulation, flirty banter, pet names, softdom!jaemin, car sex, praise kink, hittin it raw (y/n on the pill), oral, daddy kink, slight corruption kink, fingering synopsis ➠ There is no reasonable explanation as to why or how you always end up in the backseat of Na Jaemin’s beloved car. Almost routinely, he picks you up around ten in the evening with the stereo blasting the raunchiest lyrics for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. The entire night remains purely friendly, a dabble of flirtatious comments because well, it’s Jaemin for fuck sakes. But all it takes is one suggestive gaze from his dark, lustful eyes and a drop in his voice that rumbles your core to have you climbing over the seats to get to the back. taglist ➠ @rabbit-doyochi​​​ ; @darkneogotmyback​​​ ; @im-lame-irl​​​ ; @p-mini​​​ ; @niniluvsmarkhyuck​​​ ; @saniahmichael​​ ; @jaehy9ngs​​​ ; @danyxthirstae01​​​ ; @jaehyunoos​​​ ; @pikijaemin​​​ ; @suhweo​​​ ; @yunoyeol​​​ ; @lanadreamie​​​ ; @ta3ilmoon​​​ ; 

a/n ➠ hi yall its author doie❀!! thank you for over 1k notes on this series, im beyond impressed by the amount of attention this got! it really blew up and its so crazy!! i wrote this one with more of a romantic plotline i realized its too hard to keep it pwp with all the story building and characterization i have :)) it’s almost over yall! pls pls leave me feedback im sorry it took so long to write ):

While college lecture rooms are too big to interact with other students, discussion classes are there to ease the difficulty. A classroom for about twenty students from a three hundred person lecture. It’s administered by a clueless TA, who barely began his second term in graduate school.

Unlike lecture, attendance is mandatory for participation points. You show up every time without a fail, so it came as a shock to you when a certain blue haired student finally appeared from the list of absent students.

Na Jaemin. The notorious playboy with looks that kill and partakes in some illegal racing club. It’s as if every person in the room fawns over his aura, Jaemin drips with an inexplicable alluring confidence. You didn’t know anything about him besides the fact that he never shows up for class and rumors about how he’s slept with the entire cheer squad.

But he’s drawn to you like a magnet: always sitting in the available spot next to you, asking about your day before the TA arrives, developing an odd staring problem. You don’t feed much into his attention, minding your own business when he starts with his notably flirtatious greeting.

“You just take my breath away, (Y/N).” Jaemin cocks back in his seat with legs stretched wide in an overly comfortable manner. The smug smirk on his face cannot be ignored, he’s doing the absolute most to get you to pay the smallest attention to him.

“I didn’t do anything in particular to do that, Jaemin.” You respond bitterly, pulling out your notes for today’s discussion class. The TA enjoys wasting the first twenty minutes going over the past lecture slides and running through the most obvious topics.

You pay no mind to Jaemin peering over at you with the single handedly most dreamy eyes and smile --- stars shining in his dark orbs and a dazzling twinkle in his wide toothy grin.

“That’s why you’re so amazing. You do nothing and it still leaves me breathless.” His sneaky eyes examine your clothing choice for the long day. On this warm afternoon, the short tank top does nothing to hide much of your skin and the denim shorts that ride up a little too well drive Jaemin insane. And when you cross your legs together, he swallows the spit that pools in the back of his throat.

Your ears catch onto the murmurs of the rest of the class, the midterm is next week. The wretched midterm that is half of your grade dooms you, it is going to take an endless amount of completely undistracted dedicated hours of study--- “On a more serious note, can you help me with this class?”

His voice shatters your inner panic, if anything, adds to the stress that already beats down on your shoulders. You look up to glare at him, but you’re entirely taken aback by the new styling of his hair and the exposure of his tattoos.

The sweet blue cotton candied strands are ruffled lazily above his brows, messy from him constantly running his hand through them. Jaemin sits relaxed in gray sweatpants that are extremely baggy on his slender figure, hands are shoved casually into the pockets.

But what has you staring for longer is the long sleeve of tattoos that wrap around his left arm. Not that you’re surprised that Jaemin has tattoos, let alone a whole sleeve, but this is your first time seeing it as this is the first time he’s come to class without his leather jacket on. Something about the intricate lines and shadowing make Jaemin seem much cooler, almost more attractive.

When you meet his eyes, his lips curl slowly into a sly side smile and he’s practically eating you up under his gaze. He definitely knew that you were staring and what comes next out of his mouth will haunt you for it. “Like what you see, beautiful?”

“I don’t have the time to help you.” The best way out of this situation is to simply ignore it. Jaemin is overly adored and admired by many, he’ll find someone else to help him.

“Jaemin, do you want to study together?” There you go, folks. The random girl snickers with her small huddle of friends in the upper corner of the room, like a crowd of crows, they’re all waiting around for Jaemin to accept her offer so he can be easily integrated into their little group.

However, you watch how his glances bounce between you and her. The most sickly sweet, kind smile is almost too fake to consider it to be genuine. His final choice surprises you, “thank you for offering, but I only want (Y/N)...”

Your breath hitches and gets caught in your throat as you hope for him to finish his sentence, the drumming of your heart distracting you even more. Jaemin wants you? While the thought is flattering, it puzzles you greatly.

“... to help me with my studies.” Jaemin finishes his sentence after a rather long pause, his eyes finally resting upon your figure shying away and finding any way to seem uninterested in the conversation. “Is that going to be okay, (Y/N)?”

“What do I get out of it?” You can’t believe that you are actually considering it. But this is a man that only wants you to help him. Jaemin is an impossible, yet charming man and whatever comfortable attire he is wearing today is really aiding in his request.

He lights up, ears perked up and eyes attentive. His hands fold together on the empty desk, leaning forward towards you. “Dates with me.”

Rolling your eyes, you groan slightly at the arrogant answer. “I don’t care about that. I want something that benefits me.”

“I’ll make sure you’re well fed.” There is a tiny plea in his tone, a remarkable shift from his cool aura. “What do you want? I’ll give it to you.”

“I guess I can’t turn down free food…” there is a hang in your sentence as you contemplate what chaos you’re about to dive into and what life changes are about to be explored with Jaemin.

“Before you agree,” Jaemin chuckles, “there’s one more thing I’d like you to do for me.”

You’re quick to shoot a daggering glare at the overly enthusiastic boy, “why do I suddenly owe you favors?”

“Because I say so.” He deadpans, a chill running down your spine at the deep dip in his octave. The playfulness that was present all this time suddenly vanished, a serious look that intimidates you, but sexy enough to where it erupts something in your core. He blinks at you with dark clouded eyes and you nervously anticipate what he is going to ask next of you.

“Accompany me to my races.” He speaks lowly as if he’s afraid of someone else eavesdropping in the conversation.

Here’s your issue with that request: you’ve never really been part of that scene. You’ve lived pretty mundanely, even in college. It’s simple, you like to stay within the boundaries of what you enjoy to do and what you have to do. But you’re always open minded and willing to try something to determine whether or not you’re fond of it.

Partying and drinking copious amounts of alcohol weren’t your favorite things to do, especially to the point of forgetting your nights. You wanted to remember your nights as much as you do your days. The youth isn’t here for long, why waste them by blacking out in the middle of a large party? Also, whoever said that alcohol goes down smooth is a blatant liar.

Illegal racing could possibly be an extension of people who participate in those things, which is fine, but does place a crippling fear of coming off too boring or unrelatable inside your nervous system. But just because you don’t do those things doesn’t mean that you’re not as cool, right?

Since when was your status based nonsensically on how often you spend your nights in socializing crowds full of sweaty bodies and how much cheap booze you can drink? It had to be all in your head --- you’re just dreading any awkward socializing with people who race cars when it’s absolutely illegal.

“Why me?” It’s a genuine answer, possibly stemming from your insecurities of not being on the same level of charm as Jaemin exudes. You’re not a fool, you’re well aware of the many different people he comes across on campus so, why you?

Jaemin doesn’t hesitate to answer, “why not you? You’re just my type. Hot and smart. Cute and a little shy. The greatest duality, if you ask me.” His words seem so genuine that it has you believing these things about yourself as well.

Nonetheless, you’re taken aback by his observations and his choice of descriptions. “We’ve barely ever talked. How can you say these things so confidently about me?”

Jaemin slightly pulls your chair closer to his own and you yelp in response to the sudden movement and lack of space that separates the two of you. He leans into you, breath hot on your skin and obvious eyes darting between your shocked ones and pretty lips.

“So let’s get to know each other. I can already tell that it’ll just make me fall for you even more.” His finger lightly traces your jaw, stopping at your chin to give it a small lift to meet his focus. Jaemin loves how you squirm underneath his intensity, you’re too cute to let go. “Plus, my boys will love you. I’m sure of it.”

The TA rushes in quickly and is utterly distressed from the traffic that had pushed back his schedule. “Sorry, I’m late everyone.” He rummages through his things to find his notes, but groans to see that the monitor of the computer is off. It’s going to take him another ten minutes to input all his credentials.

But your attention doesn’t stray from Jaemin, especially with his delicate touch at the bottom of your chin. His gentle smile enacts nothing but a soft love, and a peak of interest. Na Jaemin, the one and only. He’s like an adventure waiting to be explored, an open bottle of fun for you to take a sip.

“What would I have to do?” Your voice comes out shaky.

“Just be there as your pretty self.” Jaemin comes off as the type to always have women around him, “you’ll be my lucky charm. For some reason, I always feel better around you.”

The escalation of this conversation is possibly more action you’ve had to handle in the last two years. Jaemin drops your chin and falls back into his own seat with his arms crossed. He is about to turn your life upside down and whether that be a good or bad thing, you don’t mind. You’re excited for the new thrills that come with being by Na Jaemin’s side.

Jaemin’s hot hands lift your shirt quickly, throwing it towards the front seat of his car. His lips return to your soft neck, nibbling at your skin tenderly and with love bites that will remind you of his gentle touches. The streetlamps outside flicker impatiently as you feel the eagerness soaking your panties and he lifts you up to take them off.

“My sweet girl,” his voice is light and airy that it becomes almost lost in the heat of the car. “You’re excited tonight. Did you miss me?” The devilish smirk can be felt upon your collarbones.

“Yes, I haven’t seen you for almost five days.” A peculiar whine settles in your pout and Jaemin’s low growl sends shivers down your spine. The only barrier are his own tight jeans and your hands are fast at unbuckling his belt. Jaemin relaxes back, forearms resting on your soft thighs and watching the neediness in your expression and the speed of your hands. He smiles to himself seeing you this way, wanting him so badly that you can’t wait to get him out of his jeans.

Throughout the two months that you and Jaemin finally became well acquainted, he’s fallen inexplicably into your trance. His friends made it very clear to you that he doesn’t keep the same girl around for more than a few weeks. But he’s brought you to almost every race so far and despite the initial shock of your appearance after the third time, you didn’t let the passing comments phase you.

Why he hasn’t replaced you is unknown and truthfully, there is no reasonable explanation how you always wind up in the backseat of his car by the end of the night. It’s become part of your routine. Jaemin picks you up around ten in the evening with raunchy lyrics blasting out of his personalized car for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. More often than not, Jaemin has food ready for you to devour and a cozy blanket for your exposed legs.

You’ve learned a bit more about him through your backseat chronicles. Jaemin is possibly one of the only people in your life with a heart bigger than his own body, while also being as carefree as he can. Oddly enough, he cares about you as his friend and as his companion. Not to mention the ridiculous, yet endearing nickname, “Lucky Charm”, that he has coined upon you.

Jaemin has been the best adventure you’ve had in ages. While he takes you on intoxicating thrill rides on the leather of his back seats, every street race has been more than unforgettable. He shares one of the same values as you --- wanting to remember the present. You both know that you’ll remember each other enough for it to transcend into your next lives.

You have him to thank for your youthful experiences, to learn and dive into this new found world of mischief under his care. Jaemin treats you extraordinarily well, he’d never hurt a soul. He showers you in appraisal and carefulness, he’s attentive to your behavior and remembers your favorite things. And he reminds you almost every time you see him that he’s so grateful to have you in his life.

“Have you been touching yourself?” Jaemin’s bold question catches you off guard as it causes your hands to shyly hover over his unzipped jeans. When you glance up at him with soft innocent eyes, as if you’re guilty of a crime and wish to beg for forgiveness, his facial expression is serious and intimidating. 

“Continue, baby. You can be honest with me. Daddy isn’t going to punish you if you did.” His tone is sweet and light, but his eyes are dark and piercing. His lips are drawn tightly into a thin line, no curve in sight.

His finger grazes down your cheek gently as he admires your slightly parted lips and the way your eyelashes dance every time you blink. However, his other hand urges you to continue your previous action of getting him out of his restrictive jeans.

You nod, while rubbing his erection through his gray briefs that hug him so tightly. There’s a sharp intake of breath when you pull the waistband of his underwear down and his cock stands against his lower abdomen. “Do you think of me when you do?” His voice gets caught in his throat when you take him in your warm hand.

“Always.” You kiss his jawline and fix your position above his dick. Your slick pussy presses down against his shaft, coating it in your juices and rubbing his tip to your clit for a delicious sensation. Jaemin groans, his gaze dipping between your lower bodies and back to your face.

“My sweet (Y/N) thinks about her daddy fucking her senseless while she touches herself.” Jaemin chuckles darkly, grinding his hips harder against you. There is a shift in the atmosphere as he grips your hips and slowly enters your dripping hole. “That’s cute, baby.”

You hold onto his shoulders as his raw dick fills you to the brim, stretching you out like past nights. Gasps leave your body when he starts pulling all the way out to only have you sink back down. “Daddy, please just fuck me.”

Jaemin picks up his speed, knowing that you have a quiz due at midnight that you scolded him for forgetting earlier. The grip on his shoulders tighten as this man navigates your body all too well. He knows you like the back of his hand, fucking the spot that causes your body to lose control.

One of his favorite sights in the world is the view of your lips parted open with loud whimpers falling effortlessly. Your eyes roll back into your skull as his hips roll deeper into your walls, the tip hitting your sweet spot repeatedly.

“You’re always the best girl for me, aren’t you?” His hand wraps around your neck when you throw your head back, choking you lightly and your walls grip around his shaft. “I know you’re close. Cum on my dick, baby. Be a good girl.”

Jaemin’s tattoos shine under the moonlight when you peer down at him. His hooded eyes are intoxicated by the pure image of your fucked out body and he’s truly in love. “My good girl, come on baby.” He continues to encourage, his other hand giving you a smack on your ass when he drills mercilessly into you.

The familiar bubbling occupy your lower half and the feeling of release unravels all so suddenly. You fall forward, Jaemin lets go of your neck to hold your limp body close to him, your head on his shoulder as your orgasm overtakes you. He grinds his hips into you to prolong your shaking climax, cooing sweet nothings in your ear as his other hand takes a whole handful of ass to squeeze.

He bottoms out, filling you up to the rim to cum deep inside of you. Jaemin moans loudly, his cum spilling all over your walls. You two sit like that until he grows soft, pampering your temples with gentle kisses. Jaemin remembers to take care of you, no matter what.

While you’re in his arms, he reaches for sanitary wipes in the side compartments. He lifts your hips slowly to pull out and you sigh at the emptiness. Gently, he swipes at the dripping cum from your pussy and makes sure that you’re all cleaned up before getting dressed.

“So, you want to tell me why you’ve been MIA for the past five days?” Rolling your eyes, you pull up your panties and fix the last decency of your hair.

“Car meets that are too far for me to take you.” His thumb rubs your chin lovingly and Jaemin’s eyes are so bright and mesmerizing, you find that it’s hard to look him in the eye at times.

“Not because you’ve been hooking up with other girls?” There is a tinge of sarcasm that laces your rhetorical question and though you don’t expect him to give you an actual answer, you take note of his reaction. Jaemin raises an eyebrow, clearing his throat and looking out the window away from you.

“And if I was?” Truthfully, that question hurt you more than your’s hurt him. His hand rests underneath his chin as he patiently waits for your answer. He admires the clear night sky and the rundown abandoned liquor store that stands all by itself.

“What do you want me to say?” Question after question, a stiff tension replaces the sex of the car.

“I’ll take you back now.” Jaemin crawls back to the driver’s seat, completely ignoring your confused figure. He has always been quite like this: going aloof whenever he wants to dodge something. However, it’s been happening more frequently the past times you two have been seeing each other.

The truth is simple, yet entirely complex at the same time. You and Jaemin aren’t dating, despite always going out together and him posessively introducing you to other men. You and Jaemin aren’t dating.

Nevertheless, it doesn’t stop you from growing feelings for him and you can tell that this happens too often for the attractive boy. He can’t have a fuckbuddy that won’t fall head over heels for him. But who could really blame you? Even if all this time Jaemin was pretending that he cared about you, he still pampers you like a princess; he still tells you he does.

But when it comes to discussion about advancing into something more, he hides and grows silent. This has you wondering, maybe this entire thing to him is all sex? And he can’t love you back the way you do.

No one knows his heart, not even himself. He’s never wanted to complicate his life, it’s always been about two things: racing and having fun. There is no easy way to explain it all, the thoughts that flood his mind and heart, so he chooses every way to ignore it. Overall, he’s genuinely lost. You are one source of stability in his life that he isn’t willing to let go, ever. But just because he won’t let you go, doesn’t mean that you won’t take the chance to leave when you’re fed up with him.

This has him wondering, how far can he push before he pushes you too far?

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just walk.” Tonight is unsettling, it usually doesn’t end like this. Jaemin locks the car doors and turns around to reach for your hand. “Jaemin, open the door.”

“I want you to say that you hate when I sleep with other people.” Jaemin confesses all too wildly as his hand lightly squeezes around your wrist. “And I want you to mean it.” He’s only speaking words of truth that haven’t had the time to process in his own thoughts.

“I hate when you sleep with other people.” And you do mean it. You mean it more than anything you’ve ever said to this man. Jaemin just sighs, bringing your wrist to his lips for a lasting kiss.

“Can I drive you home?” Jaemin asks softly, eyes dipping down to the leather seats and avoiding all need for eye contact.

“Yes, Jaemin.” He pulls you back into the passenger seat and drapes the soft blanket over your exposed legs. “Hopefully, I still have time to take my quiz.”

“Can I come inside?” Jaemin coolly turns his marble wheel to reverse out of the parking space, a hand resting on the shoulder of your seat as he does a double take behind him for any pedestrians, even if you two are far out in the middle of nowhere and there isn’t anyone around; Jaemin knows you have the hots for him when he does that specific move.

“What do you mean? You’ve already cum inside.”

It’s the sound of disappointment as his tongue tsks at you and he flicks lightly at your forehead. He steps on the acceleration, revving the annoying engine that roars throughout the peaceful night. The multicolored lights illuminate around his stereo and at your feet, creating the Rainbow Road right out of Mario Kart. 

Jaemin isn’t like the others who pay close attention to the details of his car. His motto goes, “if I like it, I’m going to have it.” Whether or not anything matches goes beyond his worries.

In some ways, his car is a mirror of his own personality --- wild and free, colorful and welcoming. And his skills as a driver? Safe, no matter how far the speedometer goes, Jaemin always makes you feel safe.

“I mean come inside your room for aftercare. You know how much I hate leaving you without a proper cuddle.” He pouts and almost immediately his cute baby tone comes out with his beg. Almost subconsciously, Jaemin lays his right palm open facing up to invite yours in. Almost routinely, you lace your hands to complete his hold. Getting Jaemin to smile has never been easier as his hold grows tighter.

“You can’t stay over tonight though. My housemates are doing some Single Girls Only house event tomorrow and it starts immediately when we wake up.” You laugh as the ridiculous words fill the air.

“And you’re participating in that?” Jaemin mindlessly asks and you’re unable to differentiate his implications from the question. Is he asking because the idea is horrendously nothing you’d like to do or he’s implying that you’re not single?

“Why wouldn’t I?” Sounding rather harsher than intended, Jaemin finally realizes how poorly he had worded his previous question. Yet, a part of him feels disappointment whirling in his chest and a desire to feel wanted by you.

“Doesn’t seem like something you’d like: wallowing in your singleness.” He chuckles, remaining lighthearted and playful.

“I really don’t.” Jaemin brings your knuckles up to his lips for a lingering kiss, his eyes darting quickly on the road ahead now that you’ve entered the metropolitan areas and his speed drops significantly to avoid getting ticketed.

“I’ll come pick you up. Instead of being single tomorrow, you’ll be on a date.” When you turn to examine his facial expression, the serious tension in his jawline and focused eyes alarm you. Your stomach twists into knots and if he couldn't already tell, your palms grow sweaty at his offer.

“That’s such a slap in the face to them.” Pulling your hand away from his, you cross your arms and lean your head against the cold window. “I don’t think I can do that to them.”

“I have a race tomorrow.” He starts, his head tilting over at you with his round gorgeous begging eyes, “at least, come to that with me.”

“Okay, but only because I want to see Haechan.” As if it wasn’t moments ago, Jaemin was the one balls deep in you and now you’re spewing enthusiasm for another man. It’s all a joke, a way for you to conceal your undying attraction for Jaemin.

You still remember the first time you met the sunshine that is Haechan and the jealousy that seeped from Jaemin’s words when he noticed the exchange of flirtation. Haechan is someone you’d knowingly gravitate towards: a man with a loud personality that just knows how to conduct every personality in the room. And at that moment, Jaemin couldn’t tell if being more observant was a good or bad thing.

Jaemin never saw himself as outgoing as his other friends, staying more kept in his own circle, but he had the confidence to fake it. He’s bold, rather impulsive and slightly narcissistic, Jaemin knows how to use his strengths very well. 

However, when he saw the soft smirk on Haechan’s face and your shy mannerisms, a small tinge in his chest ignited a died out flame. He didn’t realize it before, but that was the very start of his long tumble of feelings for you.

“Do you say those things to purposefully get me jealous?” Jaemin rests his hand on your thigh, giving it a harsh squeeze. His eyes never leave the road and his tone reverts back to his dominant tone.

“Well, are you jealous?” It’s like you two dance in circles, answer questions with a question does not stop.

And as bratty as your tone is, you don’t expect the quick “yes” that answers back and the smoldering look he gives you briefly before focusing back on the drive.

“Then good.” You huff, ready to hop out of the car after the odd, yet sensual tension. Jaemin pulls up to your house and double parks the car to lean in for a nightly goodbye kiss.

“You’re not coming in?” You try to read his facial expressions, but he hides his emotions too perfectly.

His lips curl into a smile before saying, “I think it’s better I cool off tonight.” And you mindlessly give him a peck, but he holds your face to deepen it. Through the kiss, you can feel the neediness by the way Jaemin shoves his tongue into your mouth. The taste of lust against your palette is difficult to ignore, but your academically responsible mind screams at you about your forgotten quiz.

Your hand lightly taps at his chest and he pulls away, his eyes drinking up your swollen lips. “I have a quiz, Jaemin.”

“I know, sorry. It’s just so easy to get lost in you.” Jaemin kisses your cheek once more before you exit. You smile back at him as his words have grown a strong effect on you lately. Bidding him goodbye, he wishes you sweet dreams as he patiently makes sure you’re fully inside your house.

“Is the music too loud?” Jaemin checks over at your hunched figure in the passenger seat. You’re diligently flipping through your thick textbook, a yellow highlighter in one hand and the other comfortably holding Jaemin’s.

The worst part of college is the never ending midterms that are given at any time. Studying in his car isn’t a rare sight, if anything it is more expected than you not doing anything related to your academics. But Jaemin genuinely doesn’t mind, even being mindful about his own actions to ensure an optimal studying space for you.

He really is an ideal guy. Like his first promise, he keeps you well fed and never once asks you for any monetary pay back. Jaemin adjusts the car temperature before you even step into the vehicle, knowing that you prefer wearing less clothes rather than more. Though he isn’t academically responsible, he still makes the effort to try and understand enough information to pass his classes.

The sole flaw would be the lack of open communication. It’s genuinely difficult for you to read his emotions or intentions. Jaemin always has a dazed look in his eyes whenever he looks at you, and it’s an internal fight about whether or not you’re being delusional.

“Music is fine, honey.” The mindless use of a pet name slips from your lips, but your concentration on neoliberalism and globalization doesn’t allow for you to notice.

Nevertheless, Jaemin catches on immediately to the usage. While he showers you in ridiculous nicknames, you’re not one to do so. “Honey?”

“Yes?” You answer back carelessly, not entirely actively listening to him as you highlight an important concept in your book.

“No, you called me honey.”

Looking up from your page, you blink at him with wide eyes and mouth slightly agape. “I did?”

Jaemin chuckles and finally pulls into the overly crowded parking lot, a whole mass of fanboys cheering at the arrival of his flashy vehicle. Everyone just loves Jaemin.

This familiar scene plays like a reel --- several high beams cast light under the dark sky due to the lack of functioning street lamps, dizzy multicolored cars that blaze the tracks, and the all too distinct smell of musky cologne in the chilly air. Oh, and the wide eye admirable stares when you get out of the car.

“Hi, you’re stunning.” A bold new recruit blinks at you in complete awe and awkwardly clears his throat once he realizes his rash comment.

Jaemin raises an eyebrow at him, then at how you plan on handling the situation. You’re flattered, nonetheless, but know that Jaemin didn’t bring you here to flirt with other men. “Thank you. I hope you enjoy your membership in the Ridin’ Club.”

The gracefulness in your delicate voice has the youthful recruit swooning and subtly giddy as he runs off to join a group of others that have been eying you across the parking lot. Jaemin casually drapes his leather jacket over your exposed shoulders, knowing the temperature change is going to result in you most likely catching a cold and because you never bring a jacket despite his plea.

“The power you hold.” Jaemin winks at you before pulling you into a larger crowd to socialize with more impressionable recruits.

“Ah, so you’re (Y/N)!” The stranger is unrecognizable, but you giggle to acknowledge his confident statement. “We haven’t met before, but Jaemin was talking about you the other night at our motorcycle meet.”

Your eyes light up, as if you’ve unlocked a new fun fact of Na Jaemin. “You drive a motorcycle too?” You’re truly shocked at the talent of this man.

Jaemin snakes his arm around your lower waist to draw you closer to his side. “Yeah, but I can’t fuck you in a motorcycle, can I?”

Before the other men can comment on the obvious sexual tension that Jaemin created, he leans in to whisper into your ear. “Actually, I can, but we’ll save our decency from unwanted exposure.” His hot breath grazes against the shell of your ear and you just know where you two are going to end up tonight.

“Bro, you guys probably fuck in the backseat of his car.” One of them chimes recklessly, punching at each others’ chest playfully as if he made a decent joke.

“Why don’t you stay to find out?” Jaemin retorts and the grip on your hip becomes tighter. You’re too flustered to add much into this odd form of competitive banter, distracted by none other than the way Jaemin keeps glancing over at you with a delicious gleam in his eyes.

“So what? You don’t care about us now?” You’d know that bratty tone from anywhere as Lee Haechan pushes past everyone else to rush over to the both of you.

“Aw, are your feelings hurt?” Jaemin sticks his tongue out at his friend before cordially sharing a handshake with him.

“Just slightly.” Haechan looks over at you with a wide grin and playful eyes, “hello, my pretty girl.”

“Drop the possessives, Haechan.” Jaemin rolls his eyes with an irritable twitch on his lips.

He hates how obviously jealous he gets. It’s something too difficult for himself to control, he’s exhausted his efforts to bite his tongue whenever it comes to other people’s flirtations. The thought of someone else calling you theirs doesn’t sit well with him.

“I understand your jealousy, Jaem. If someone was flirting with (Y/N), I wouldn’t be able to stand it either.” Haechan fixes the falling jacket on your shoulders. “But she can handle herself, I know those pretty lips have a mind of their own.” His gaze drops momentarily, yet obvious enough for you to grow shy at how strong Haechan is coming off tonight.

“Stop trying to corrupt her, that’s my job.” Jaemin playfully pushes at Haechan’s chest and they both break out laughing.

“I haven’t said one thing and you’re both talking about me as if I’m not here.” Your small pout is literally the cutest thing to Jaemin. He physically has to stop himself from planting the sweetest kiss on it.

It’s blatantly clear that you’re hot stuff. You’re the perfect example of a head turner, your captivating aura has its ability to suffocate those around you. However, Jaemin has seen all sides of you, but overall finding you so entirely cute. And oddly enough, Jaemin has a knack for cute things.

“Is that (Y/N) I hear?” Huang Renjun engulfs you in a hug, showing clear affection and doesn’t mind doing so. “How did your project go?”

“It went well. You accomplish a lot when you don’t procrastinate.” Renjun gleams at your statement and if Jaemin is delusional enough, he’d probably mistaken the twinkle in his eyes for infatuation instead of admiration.

“You’re so responsible, why are you messing with Jaemin?” Renjun sighs and though his question is more of a joke, there is some truth behind his words.

Your friendship with his friends differ immensely compared to other girls who have come around. Like Jaemin had said before, his boys were going to like you and they do, a lot. Sometimes making it obvious that you’re too good for him.

Jeno comes up from the side, an unidentifiable bruise on his neck and a new cut on his brow. Lee Jeno being such a rough character, his appearance speaks well about how his day has been.

But when he lays his eyes on you, it’s as if all his pain is replaced with joy and security. “(Y/N)! I haven’t seen you in so long!” The enthusiastic boy rushes over to greet you with a warm smile.

“I’m pretty sure I was here a week ago.” You laugh, but welcome him in your arms for a tender friendly hug and pat his head out of habit.

“It’s been a week?! That’s so long.” Jeno narrows his eyes at Jaemin and flicks his forehead.

“Ow!” Jaemin exclaims while rubbing the pain away. “You act like she doesn’t go to the same school as us and therefore, can see her any time you want to.” The tone in Jaemin’s voice raises some eyebrows as they all exchange glances to each other before bursting into laughter.

“Like your jealous ass would allow for that?” Haechan remarks and Jaemin doesn’t outwardly react. However, Jaemin’s hand is squeezing you so tight that you’re more than certain he’s bothered by the comment.

“Oh, stop it. You all know I’m Team Jaemin. He does have the most wins this past month.” You only know that through Jaemin’s proud boasting, anything else in the racing world is unknown to you.

Jaemin situates you in between his legs as he slightly sits on the hood of his car. His arms wrap around your middle and chin rests on your shoulder. Public display of affection isn’t a problem for him, and you learned much earlier that Jaemin can’t keep his hands off of you.

Renjun scoffs at your whimsical fact, in absolute disbelief. “It hurts more hearing you say it. I’m getting my car upgraded, but once it’s done, I’m going to blaze his ass on the tracks.”

“Are you racing today?” Jeno asks the blue haired fellow that clings onto you like a koala.

“Yeah, against a newbie. Apparently he’s really good, so I’m not too sure I’ll win.” Jaemin mumbles into your hair.

“You say that every time, yet you win!” Renjun crosses his arms, weight shifting to his left leg as he pops his hip out. There is always a sense of competition between anyone with Renjun.

Jaemin perks up behind you and when you turn around in his arms, you’re face to face with a beaming smile. “That’s because I have you.” Eyes lock with yours, he isn’t saying that directed to Renjun. Na Jaemin has you wrapped around his pinky, the butterflies fluttering in your stomach are too hard to ignore.

“Alright, lovebirds. Get in your car and let’s start this shit.” Haechan groans and claps his hands to draw the crowd’s attention. Cupping them around his mouth, he roars into the starry night, “let’s roll!”

During the race, Jaemin’s number one priority is to keep you safe. While you’ve sat in his car for a number of times now, it’s different once the loud bang goes off and he’s hitting 100 mph. Tonight’s track is much more dangerous, with twists and turns that can have the vehicle flying weightlessly if he’s not careful.

“You trust me, right?” Jaemin has both hands on the wheel and the engine rumbling as you both anticipate the start of the race.

Spectators watch on the sidelines as if it’s the ultimate battle, but Jaemin doesn’t pay them much mind. He’s more concerned about you instead. “Of course. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. You’ve proven yourself that you’re an excellent driver, so let’s win this.”

Jaemin smirks at your encouraging words, feeling a warmth spread across his chest. “I’ll tap out any time you want me to, okay?”

You nod and the initial whip of the car is so intense that you didn’t even register the sound off. It’s not your first race, but it’s been awhile since the last one. When you adjust to the pressure, the lanes in front of you cause a slight queasiness in your stomach.

It’s a two lane windy road that wraps around the mountain side and Jaemin happens to be in the outer lane. All it takes is a second of lost control and you two will hit the metal railings that guard the cliff below. Despite your inner panic, Jaemin guides you through the pooling anxiety that leaves you restless.

“(Y/N), look up and out the window. We’re coming up on the cliff side view, I’ve always wanted to bring you here.” Your eyes land on the dazzling glitter that dances on the ripples of the lake. It’s so vast, the moon high up in the sky is reflected on the water below. It’s a romantic scene of melancholy and bliss. Suddenly, you feel at peace in the middle of this high speed race.

“It’s beautiful, Jaem.” You whisper calmly and he’d reach for your hand to hold, but races take too much wheel control. And he’d turn to look at you, but races take too much concentration on the road ahead.

But throughout every obstacle, he hears the gentleness and the solidarity in your cadence in the midst of all the high stress. He, too, feels peace. He feels calm knowing that you’re simply by his side, even in the face of danger. So, he can finally admit to himself… he genuinely developed feelings for you.

Before you know it, you’re thrusted side to side from the sharp turns and the adrenaline kicks in when the other racer catches up right next to Jaemin. “Fuck,” Jaemin curses underneath his breath and steps harshly on the acceleration. “Baby, I’m going to go a bit faster so hold onto something.” He warns and your hand finds the grab handle. It’s neck and neck at this point.

Usually, you squeeze your eyes shut to avoid becoming too overwhelmed by the sights in front of you. Tonight is different, not entirely knowing why, you’re observing every element that circles around the perimeter.

The finish line is up ahead, but there is no sign that the other racer is slowing down. Then, you see it: the fatal mistake that can cost you both of your lives if you didn’t catch it. “Jaemin, watch out!” You yelp when the other car inches dangerously close, your warning allows Jaemin to make a controlled swerve away from a possible hit.

Jaemin shakes his head and tsks at the recklessness. “Now I know why he’s good. It’s foul play.” He blows his bang out of his eyes and casually says, “thank you for warning me. This is why I need you by my side.”

He makes it to the finish line barely before the other, winning the race by half a second. Jaemin brakes smoothly, tire marks scrapping the concrete below, and you both exit the car to celebrate with everyone else.

But before the mass of eager shouting men make their way over to you two, Jaemin hurries to your side to pull you into a steamy, rewarding kiss. The scene is just like the movies; his hand on your lower back and yours on his chest lightly. His lips taste like triumph, like he had won more than just a simple race against a random stranger. He’s won the best person he could ever have.

You two fled the scene after cussing out the other racer. It was a rare sight to see: Jaemin being all bothered and angry, practically fuming after scrambling back into the driver’s seat. However, your mind had mischievous plans of its own and all it took was one look from his hooded eyes for you to announce that you wanted him --- badly.

Back in your usual abandoned parking lot, Jaemin pauses before following you to the back seats. With the engine off and the dead of the night being absolute silent, the tension remains thick around you two. “(Y/N),” Jaemin is about to confess something he never thought he’d admit. He turns to you sitting in the middle seat with just your panties on and a curious look on your face.

His heart burns and despite being so incredibly aroused, he controls his urges enough to be able to say, “I’m into you.”

“I know you’re into me, that’s how we ended up like this in the first place.” You giggle cluelessly to his words, still not understanding the odd shift in mood and intentions. It’s always his unclear, messy intentions.

Though he can’t entirely figure out his puzzle pieces, he has plenty to connect the dots. “I like you. I want to be in a relationship with you and call you my girlfriend.”

You’re stunned. Did Jaemin just confess to you as you sit in your panties ready to fuck? This softness is different from the sides you’ve seen of him. It’s similar to a lost bunny, wandering grasslands to find a purpose. He looks so fragile, one intense stare and he’d crumble. This softness is vulnerability.

“So do it.” The boldness catches him off guard, but switches on the dominance in him. “If you want me, come show it.”

He climbs over the middle console to push you into the leather seats. “Not acting shy anymore, are you?” Practically ripping your shirt off of you, he cups your breast lightly and flicks at your nipples. Your immediate reaction results in a rush of wetness down your core.

“Before I forget,” sitting up, you share a passionate kiss that you’ve held back long enough. You give it every ounce of feeling you have for him. “If it isn’t obvious enough, I like you too.”

“It’s obvious, baby.” Kissing your nose, he wraps a hand around your throat to lightly push you back down. “But hearing you say it out loud makes me happy.” Jaemin smirks, hand still choking you gently and pampering your jawline with soft kisses.

His free hand reaches down into your dripping panties, circling your clit with your wetness. The sensation causes you to whimper for more. “Daddy, give it to me.” You wiggle in his palm, knowing that the nickname is more than effective.

“My sweet (Y/N) wants to get fucked?” Jaemin rolls your underwear off and rids himself of his own bottoms.

“Yes, please.” Through the darkness, his hard dick stands proudly. Jaemin lines himself up as he thrusts into you without another second of hesitation. He waits for you to adjust to his size, his tip barely grazing your sweet spot. “Fuck…”

“You take me so well, my pretty baby.” Jaemin starts moving his hips, slowly at first to build a rhythm. Taking your legs, he presses them into your chest to fuck you at a deeper angle. And you feel him practically in your guts, his cock pumping against your walls deliciously and bumping into your g-spot. “Do you want more of me?”

Your train of thought is in utter shambles and whatever Jaemin is saying to you barely processes. You’re overwhelmed by a pleasure that fills every system, every part of your body. To answer him, you let out an incoherent noise of approval.

Jaemin pulls your hips down while thrusting forward into you, maximizing every inch of his strokes. This single action causes you to scream and grip onto the headrest. “Who knew my sweet girl could be so fucking dirty?” Jaemin chuckles darkly, his cadence dropping several decibels. “When I first met you, I wanted to ruin you.”

All of his filthy words edge you closer to your release as he continues to repeat his previous motion. He holds your hips in place to grind into you, the feeling of his tip rubbing your walls has your eyes rolling back. “Do you want to cum, (Y/N)?”

“Yes!” You yell, the tight ball in your lower abdomen is bound to break any minute. “I want to cum so badly, please.” You beg and moan, the arch in your back lifts you from the seat of the car. Jaemin snaps his hips into you, drilling you quickly to reach your high. And you break. An euphoric cry fills the air as your walls clench around his length. You hear the extra wetness create a slick noise, but Jaemin isn’t done with you yet.

“You wanted to cum so fucking badly. I’ll reward you with one more for being such a good girl for me.” His thumb flicks at your clit and you convulse into spasms from the sensitivity. Your violently shaking legs can’t hold themselves up anymore and Jaemin rests them on his shoulders. He lines kisses along your ankle as the pleasure overtakes you.

“I don’t think I can do it.” You whine, your fingers twisting and toes curling.

“You are going to try, okay baby?” He coos, but it’s most definitely a demand. He sits back on his knees to pick up more speed, fucking endlessly into your swollen pussy and thumb rubbing fast strips against your bud.

“I’m going to snap, Jaem.” You cry, tears rimming your eyes and before you know it, a second wave hits you. Your second orgasm is ruinous and has you squirming around to regain some sense of control.

“Oh fuck, you’re so beautiful.” Jaemin slows down as your walls grip around him again, tighter this time. “I’m going to fill you up with cum,--- watch it drip out of you.” He grunts while releasing into you, his dick twitching and spraying your insides with white.

He pulls out as hot, white cum spills from your pussy. You take this moment to catch your breath and relax your legs. However, Jaemin coats his two fingers and shoves the cum back into you. “Jaemin!” You exclaim at the sudden intrusion.

He curls them into your plushy walls and finger fucks you into another oblivion. “Wait, again?” Your hands wrap around his wrist, but Jaemin moves too fast for you to catch it.

You’re a moaning mess again, louder than before. Jaemin leans down and flicks his tongue against your overstimulated bundle of nerves. Your back arches automatically and a low animalistic scream rises from your throat.

He observes your body lines underneath the moonlight and the last remaining light the broken street lamps have to offer. Your face contours and you’re so far out into ecstasy that you don’t notice how intensely Jaemin watches you lose yourself.

“It feels too good!” With one last thrilling orgasm, you almost pass out and you see small stars of dizziness. He soaks up every last bit of your cathartic reaction and festers a small sense of pride that he can make you feel all this pleasure.

“Such a good girl. You’re beyond impressive, baby.” Jaemin pulls his fingers out to lick them clean and finds some wipes to help you out of your sticky situation.  

“Now that you’re my girlfriend, can we cuddle at any time now? Not just as after care.” He peers up at you and the one word enacts a burning warmth to spread across your chest. That is the best nickname he can call you by.

“I think the Singles Girls Only house event is still going on, but after that, yes a million times.” You laugh and wrap your arms around him into a big loving hug.

Jaemin feels right at home. All the long years of living carelessly and wild, he’s finally found someone worth the extra mile. While Jaemin was a thriving adventure to be explored, you were his comfort to run back to.

It is through the intimacy of your backseat chronicles that Jaemin was able to fall deeper for you. You’re his lucky charm, for some reason, he always feels better around you.