#im begging for one more heel run... just one more......

[rafeslvbug]

im reaaally loving your recent smau and the robin!reader <33 also curious on how do interactions with rafe and robin!reader goes

i. at her dad’s parties.

your eyes had drifted over to him too many times, always having to blink it back to focus on the conversation your dad’s business partner was having before your mom could lightly smack your arm. he was staring, blatantly. giving you a soft smile whenever you looked his way that caused a crimson blush to spread onto your cheeks.

then your mom suggests speaking to the camerons, and your dad agrees it’d be a good idea. but he does so, not without throwing you a look, because he knows– more than your mom– that you and the cameron boy have something going on. you don’t catch the glance. regardless, it was something you’d admit outright if you had to.

ward and your dad are deep in talk, finance and taxes. inflation and stock prices. rose and your mom discuss the upcoming galas, and you and rafe are standing off to the side. you’ve begun rambling about this bird whose wing had broken off by the lake, and rafe’s nodding along. though his eyes sit above your head, throwing glares at every judgemental person who’s listening into your conversation, horrified your mind isn’t filled to the brim with lace and the newest purse.

“rafe what are you looking at?” you rarely realise this type of thing, but you’ll notice anything about rafe. like you’ve studied him as well as those little insects on trees. your head whips around, eyes scanning over the people looking at you, and they keep going because you don’t see anything wrong with that.

rafe gently spins you back around to him, fingers hooking through the loop of the silk bow at the front of your dress. “just thinkin’ about how everyone here isn’t nearly as pretty as you,” he flatters, and you smile, accepting the compliment with as much grace as you can.

then you ask, blinking innocently up at him, “is the dress so pretty, that we can’t still go check up on that bird?”

rafe huffs out a laugh, “your mother’s gonna kill me if i take you.”

“well i’ll just go by myself otherwise,” you shrug, tilting your head up at him which he mocks.

“is she looking?” he mumbles out, and your eyes slip to the side before you subtly shake your hear. rafe breathes out a sigh, a moment of peace then he darts out the door, hand in hand with you.

ii. at the lake

(a. the party) his dress shoes trod over dried mud, rafe occasionally looking back to make sure you were okay in your high heels. but you were just fine. navigating through sticks and stilettos with ease, like it didn’t hurt. you dropped his hand, rushing forward towards the swing, hem brushing the ground. the bird was laying on it, wings tucked at it’s side. you were about to sit on the ground next to it, before rafe hastens to scoop you into his arm. “rafe!” you exclaim, trying to get out of the bridal hold while he sits down on the ground instead, gathering the fabric of your dress onto his trousers to protect them from the dirt. “i think i know how to sit by myself.” “oh definitely, but this dress i’m sure was expensive, and if i’m in trouble with my future in laws for helping you escape in the first place, i’m not trying to make shit worse,” he grumbles, arm around your back. letting you lean forward towards the wooden plank and injured bird, watching as you gently brush it’s feathers back.

(b. in general) you swung your legs from the branch you had perched yourself on, counting the ants in a line on the bark. “i don’t get it,” rafe groans, running a hand down his face. “you beg me to build a swing– i build the swing– now you don’t want the swing? you want to climb the tree!” his words travel through one ear and out of the other, too busy murmuring the numbers out loud. “nine….ten…..eleven..twe– did i count that one?” “what are you even saying?” he asks, looking up at you from his spot on the ground, palms faced up, hands out in surrender. “i’m counting the ants..but i need to start again!” you call back down, returning to the task as quickly as you can, because you never know if they’ll move. rafe’s face drops, rubbing his head as he sits down on the swing he made for you, waiting for you to finish your counting. “take your time, then.”

iii. random dialogues (bringing him a baked good)

“what is this?” rafe’s lip curls upwards when he opens the door. “a cherry pie!” you hold the dish out to him, little splatters of the cherry filling on the edge. “why the fuck have you brought me this?…no offence.” he adds. “well..my mom says baking for people might make them forgive me for my ignorance..so here!” rafe looks up at you confused, then softens. “you did nothing wrong, so no need for an apology or my forgiveness,” he mumbled, accepting the dish anyways, and tugging you inside along with it.

note: also tysm to that anon <3

[samijey]

[starboye]

starring: vinnie hacker x male reader

request: roommate!vinnie x reader where they are showing off their Halloween costumes and vinnie is being ghostface and reader is a school girl with the skirt and Vinnie can’t help but get hard and reader notices and walks up and starts teasing Vinnie like asking does he like what he see and Vinnie picks him up by his legs and carries him to the room and throws him on the bed and lifts up readers skirt to see his favorite colored thong and vinnie just snaps and dives face first into readers ass and then fucks him in his costume

warnings: smut, cursing, neck biting, mentions of belly bulge, ass smacking, ass eating, femboy reader, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk

halloween was one of the best nights of the year, i mean you get to dress like a slut and no one can judge you for it and tonight you decided to go all out, dressed in a slutty school outfit, wearing a skirt, some stalking, and kinda short heels while vinnie wore a ghostface costume.

"you just had to dress all slutty" vinnie laughs as you walk out your room "this is the one night a year i get to dress like a slut, im gonna go all out" you reason doing a little spin "you can dress slutty anytime of the year, preferably in the apartment" vinnie bites his lower lip as he gets a hard on from seeing a bit of your ass in that cute skirt.

you taking notice to this and being the great roommate that you are, you start teasing him "so what do you think about it vin" you ask walking closer to him and turning around to give him a full view of your ass before rubbing it on his bulge which sets him off just enough to grab you.

"i think we're gonna be missing that halloween party tonight" he says taking you to his room and throwing you on his bed, making hasty work of his costume until he was standing naked in front of you with a hard on, walking closer to you ass up face down ready for him "good slut" he smirks getting on his knees and lifting your skirt to see his favorite colored thing under it.

"what do we have here" he chuckles "oh how did that get there" you tease him pushing your ass further back to him "you whore" he says before diving face first into your ass, eating you out so good you're already moaning out, gripping the sheets in your fingers and begging for more.

vinnie was smothering his face in your ass as his tongue plunged in and out of your hole, tasting that deliciousness until it was engraved on his taste buds before pulling back "shit" he huffs catching his breath "fuck me vin" you say breathless "your wish is my command" he says standing up and giving your ass a nice smack.

"you wanna be my naughty school girl" he rubs his hand over your ass, giving it another nice smack "mhm" you whimper "speak up" he gives your ass another hard smack "yes sir i wanna be your naughty school girl "good slut" he says before slipping his cock in and thrusting into you.

his hips were moving on their own, fucking you nice and deep while holding a chunk of the skirt in his hand to continue pulling you back "yeah take that dick bitch" he groans throwing his head back and letting you do some of the work, backing your ass onto him, desperate for his cum to fill your needy pussy.

"mhm just like that" vinnie hums holding your waist to go back to fucking you, his cock was hitting all the right stops of your gummy walls so much that it was impossible not to moan out his name "yeah keep moaning, im so close" he mummers pulling you back to his chest while still slamming your ass.

putting his hand over your stomach to feel himself giving you a slight stomach bulge until he was unloading his cum into your with a load groan, hiding his face in the crook of your neck before coming back up after riding out his high.

"don't tell me that's all you got mr ghostface" you joke running your fingers through his hair "the hell it is, you're gonna hate me by the time im done with you tonight" vinnie bite and nips at your neck "then do it" you rut your ass on his already hardening dick, it's gonna be one long night for you.

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac

[multi-fandom-imagine]

In another life || Seong Gi-Hun ||

A/n: Im not happy with that ending so I'm fixing it.

Au: Where the reader is a daughter of the richest VIP, she was often helping Kim-Jun, she and Gi-Hun fell for one another

*Spoilers*

The heavy silence of the sky, circling the three towering buildings like vultures. Below them, chaos unfolds. Blood stains the pristine glass of the Triangle. Cries echo from the Circle. The final three players are little more than ghosts now, barely clinging to life and purpose—333, 456, and the small child held tight against Gi-hun’s chest.

But up above, far removed from the carnage and desperation, you sit in a gold-trimmed VIP box high above the arena. The other VIPs leer and chuckle through gold masks and liquored breath, but you don’t move. You haven’t since the game began.

You’ve been watching him. Heart in your throat, hand trembling, eyes glued to the man who had fallen in love with.

Seong Gi-hun.

His shirt is torn, stained with blood and dust. His face is swollen and bruised from the last fight. Yet even now, with his hands trembling, clutching the baby of a dead woman as if she were his own, he doesn’t beg. He doesn’t run. He protects.

“He’s fascinating,” one of the VIPs purrs, their mask molded like a lion. “Bet you 5 billion he jumps.”

You don’t respond. You’re already pulling off your mask.

Everything felt suffocating.

Your father, seated beside you, doesn’t look at you—but you feel his eyes shift the second your heels clack against the marble floor. “Sit down,” he says lowly, a warning veiled in affection. “This isn’t your place, sweetheart.”

You spin on him.

“This isn’t a game, Daddy. That man—he’s not some pawn. He’s the only one in that arena who deserves to live.”

He says nothing. But his fingers tighten around his glass.

Your voice wavers—but your spine doesn’t. “You said you’d give me anything. Anything I asked.”

His jaw clenches.

You press your hand to the control panel on the wall—VIP access only—and punch in the override code you made him give you months ago. His eyes widen. “Y/N—”

“I want him,” you say, turning back to the screen, voice shaking. “And I want her safe.”

On the screen, Gi-hun stands at the edge of the circle platform, wind ripping through his blood-matted hair. Behind him, Player 222—just a baby—is tucked beneath a ripped jacket. The bridge groans. The final button gleams red.

And then—

“We are not horses. We are humans. And humans are—”

“Stop the game!” you shout.

Your father slams his hand down. “CUT THE FEED!”

But it’s too late.

Alarms scream through the arena. Lights flash red. The final round is frozen mid-motion, and on the screen, Gi-hun stumbles forward in shock, blinking against the sudden sirens. Drones descend from the clouds. A black VTOL aircraft lowers above the Circle building.

Gi-hun throws himself over the baby as masked agents swarm the rooftop, expecting to be executed. But instead—

You step off the aircraft.

“Gi-hun!”

He looks up, eyes wide. The blood on his hands. The baby. The wind.

“Y/N…?”

You run to him. You don’t care about the cameras. About the rules. About the legacy of the blood money behind your name.

You wrap your arms around him and the baby, burying your face into his shoulder as the world spins around you both.

“You’re safe now,” you whisper. “You’re not going to die for a game.”

He doesn’t speak. Can’t speak.

Only clutches you harder.

The VTOL hums quietly as it cuts across the dark sky. Gi-hun sits beside you in a heated cabin, wrapped in a sterile blanket, the baby asleep against his chest.

He’s still too stunned to speak. But his hand never leaves yours.

You glance at him—his profile lit by the soft golden interior lights—and smile gently.

“I told you I’d get you out.”

He laughs—broken, hoarse, but real. “You’re insane.”

“Mm,” you nod. “I am my father’s daughter. But I’m nothing like him.”

Gi-hun’s eyes shift toward the baby, then toward you.

He looks at you like you’re the only real thing left in the world.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

You lean your head on his shoulder.

“No more games,” you whisper.

He nods.

Together, the three of you disappear into the horizon—leaving the arena, the blood, and the system that chewed him up far behind.

The world never found out what happened to Seong Gi-hun.

As far as the public was concerned, Player 456 vanished after the 2024 Squid Game finale. No victor was announced. No footage released. The VIPs who had placed their bets were paid off in hush money, and the game continued its shadowy legacy—now with tighter controls, and one less unpredictable human variable.

You had ensured that.

Because Seong Gi-hun had been extracted.

Saved.

And now he was yours to protect, just as fiercely as he’d once protected a stranger’s baby in a death game with nothing left to lose.

The Cottage in New Zealand

The house isn’t large, but it’s perfect.

Stone walls, a garden overgrown with sunflowers and tomatoes, and a wraparound porch that overlooks the ocean cliffs. Far from Seoul. Far from money. Far from blood-soaked arenas and masked devils.

Inside, the air smells like breakfast and baby powder. Warm and lived-in.

Gi-hun is standing at the stove, hair a bit longer now, cheeks a little fuller. He’s humming something under his breath—something happy—as he flips pancakes one-handed, the other arm gently cradling a sleepy-eyed baby against his chest in a carrier.

Jun-hee’s daughter. Now yours. Now his.

A picture of the woman having her own spot tucked in the corner of the kitchen. You two pray to it everyday and baby now called Hana, she will know how brave her mother was.

You peek into the kitchen, barefoot and wearing one of his hoodies. He always pretends he hates when you steal them, but the fond smile on his lips whenever you wear them says otherwise.

“You’re up early,” he says, not even turning around—he always knows when you’re there.

You wrap your arms around him from behind and rest your cheek against his back. “Hana kicked me. She’s got a strong left foot.”

“She gets it from you.” He grins.

You laugh softly and slide to his side, peeking down at the baby in the carrier. Hana is blinking up at you with sleepy, curious eyes.

“I think she’s gonna have your nose,” you murmur.

Gi-hun leans over and kisses your forehead. “She already has your stubbornness.”

The wind is soft out on the cliffside. Ga-yeong, now fifteen, is sitting with her back to the house, sketching in her notebook. She had cried for days when she first reunited with her father. You remember watching from a distance, holding Hana and sobbing quietly as the little girl he fought so hard to stay alive for collapsed into his arms.

Now she calls you “eomma” with shy affection, braids her hair to match yours, and always makes an extra plate when she cooks. You never asked her to. She just does.

You step outside with Hana in your arms, and Gi-hun follows, carrying a thermos of tea.

“We’re really doing this,” he murmurs, sitting beside you on the porch swing.

“What?”

“Living.”

You lean your head on his shoulder. “Told you I’d give you more than the games ever could.”

He turns to you, brushing your cheek gently. “You gave me everything. My daughter. A second chance. A family.”

You kiss the corner of his mouth, then let your lips linger a bit longer, until you hear Hana’s little coo. She smacks his cheek with a chubby hand. Gi-hun laughs and lifts her into the air.

“Ya! Little traitor!” he teases, snuggling her. “You’re supposed to like when eomma kisses appa.”

Hana squeals in delight.

Later That Night, with The baby asleep.Ga-yeong is on a video call with a friend from school.

And in the quiet of your shared room, Gi-hun wraps you in his arms, pulling the blanket up to your chin.

“You’re not afraid?” he asks softly. “That they’ll find us?”

You shake your head. “My father kept his end of the bargain. We’re ghosts now. This is our life.”

He looks at you like he still can’t believe it’s real. That you’re real.

Gi-hun presses a kiss to your temple, then murmurs:

“I’d die for you, you know.”

“You don’t have to anymore,” you whisper. “Now… you just have to live with me.”

His chest rises and falls. He closes his eyes. And for the first time in years, there are no nightmares waiting.

Just soft breathing.

Just love.

Just peace.

The game is over.

Forever.

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

CHERRY- J.B BARNES

day four of the june bug masterlist

pairing: 40s! bucky barnes x fem! reader

word count: 1.2k

summary: you are determined not to fall for the neighbourhoods heart throb (who happens to be your actual neighbour) bucky barnes. but its written in the spangled stars you two end up together, and inside eachother- even in at the drive in theatre.

warnings: SMUT (car sex)- cock warming, daddy kink, exhibitionism, praise kink, size kink, pet names, swearing, man handling, bucky is a bit of a sly, kinky bastard here heh

 “can i get a fuckin hallelujah? workin on ya like im back in school yeah… can i get a fuckin hallelujah? sippin on ya like a coca cola…”- cherry, lana del rey (backing vocals)

Sergeant James Barnes was a flirt. As flirty as they came.

And you refused to give in to his boyish charm, that drove the girls wild.

Because he knew the effect he had on a dame that so much as glanced his way. And you were set on not being one.

He was a dreamboat- you’d give him that. But god forbid you get swept up abroad that vessel.

Still, for weeks he had tried to talk to you, to be the kind neighbour that brought you your paper when you had forgotten to grab it, or offering to help fix up things he had heard you nag about on the landline- your windows always open.

It was like you were asking for him to run into you at the most convenient of times, begging him to swoop in and save the day.

You had kept your distance though, as much as you could, despite the mixed signals you were sending his way. You couldn't help yourself- he was much too fun to tease.

Every girl had fallen head over heels for him- so why not be different?

Give him a little challenge? 

He was no good. You knew that, he knew that. Yet- you were drawn to him, just a little.

So you let him swing around and patch a few leaky faucets, or some squeaky door hinges that needed tended to in exchange for freshly baked cherry tarts.

Still, you had refused to fall under his spell, no matter how captivating he was. Not quite meeting his baby blues for fear you'd get sucked into that worldwind, and not want to get out. A thin lipped smile, and a Thank you Jamie. was all you had to offer him, whenever he whistled at you as walked down the street, tossing out compliments left and right.

They were chiping little dents in your exterior, and eventually, it had slowly started to crack. And that- now that he could fix.

Soon, the all so charming sergeant had you wrapped around his finger, spinning you around the empty streets at night, making you giggle so loudly you'd wake the neighbours.

But giggles weren't the only thing that kept them up.

Which is why you were so desperate to keep quiet, in the backseat of his Pontiac- where the windows were already starting to fog up.

He had taken you to the new film that was showing at the drive-in, being the perfect gentleman. Picking you up with a bouquet of baby's breath and roses, kissing your hands before drawing you into your horse drawn carriage.

It didn't matter how many dates you two had been on- it always felt like the first. And each date came with its own excitements.

Tonight was especially exciting.

“Jamie someones gonna see us!” you whispered as you climbed over to the backseat, yelping as he swatted your ass.

“Then I guess you better sit still then huh darlin? Always wigglin around, so sensitive n needy.” he smirked, slipping back with you, except he had to physically get out of the driver's seat and go around- being too large to slither back like you had.

Before you were fully aware of what was happening, his large hands had unbuckled his belt before finding their way to your hips. He manhandled you as if you were nothing- which turned you on a whole lot more than you’d care to admit.

Picking you up and adjusting you, so you sat perched between his thick, beefy thighs, spread out in the middle seat- so you still had a perfect view of the black and white film in front of you.

Not that you had any interest in the movie anymore, and you hadn't as soon as his hand had wandered over to give your thigh a squeeze.

“Just sit and watch the flick, sweet girl. M’right here, just sit on my lap mkay?” You nodded, squeezing the headrests of the front seats hard enough you feared your nails would break the surface of them as he lifted your hips and tugged your panties to the side, easing you down on his cock.

“Oh god, oh-g-god Jamie-” you moaned, letting your head bow down at the stretch. He was so fucking big.

“Shhh, shh- so noisy sweetheart. Just let Daddy fill ya, alright? Can ya do that for me?”

You nodded, wincing as he bottomed out, letting your skirt fan out around you- hiding what was really going on to any wandering eyes.

Though that was rare- as he had parked at the back, off to the side. Now you knew why. The sly bastard.

You moaned his name as the slight sting of the stretch eased to pleasure, filling your body with a heavy warmth. He had popped your cherry back on your fourth date, after you had practically begged him too.

Not very ladylike- but who were you to care?

When he looked so good, and felt so good- society standards flew out the window. Dispite that being months ago, he still had to ease you down on his cock, slow and steady.

That just turned him on even more, knowing how big he was compared to you, but how eager you were to take him all.

“Fuck yea just like that. Come sit back on me baby, relax. Good girl.” he cooed as you happily obeyed, letting your body slouch back against his broad chest, letting him pepper you in gentle kisses, his lips staining your skin with their tint of the coke he drank earlier.

“Mmm Jamie. You’re so big.” you hummed as he spread his legs, and yours draped on top of his just a little further apart. He smiled cockily.

“ I think you’re just tight baby. You were made for me though, remember what I told you? Perfect fit for daddy. Keepin me all warm.” he smiled, kissing the top of your head as you sighed.

“You smell so pretty. God that cherry and wine scent drives me fuckin wild…” he drawled, hands sliding up to rest on your hips, gripping them tightly.

“I know silly, that's why I wear it. So you do things like this to me.”

“Yeah? You like when you’re used like this? My little doll.” he cooed softly as he began to slide you up and down on his cock, admitting embarrassingly loud squelching sounds mixed with your moans.

You were so wet you were practically soaking the leather seats. “You just stay with me sweetheart. M’gonna do all the work, just focus on feeling good.” he murmured, kissing you again in such a nurturing way it was as if the sins he was committing to your body were not happening under your frilly red skirt.

He watched hungrily as your tits bounced with his thrusts, growling as you started to whimper and beg for him. Fuck. Fuckin hell you were going to be the death of him.

“Feels so fuckin good baby. You feelin good?”

He already knew the answer, the cocky prick. But who were you if not to feed his ego?

“Uh-uh- oh yes Jamie!” you squealed, clenching around him so tight it was as if the roof of his car had magically disappeared and the starry night above him had completely clouded his vision.

“Cmon sweetheart, don't miss this part. I heard that's when they start to get a little naughty.”

[readngandweepng]

polished this 2-week old wip i had (oops) of ftm daisuke and curly both being pillow riders.

MDNI gender neutral dom reader. this kinda sucks because im burnt out right now but i got some new motivation i reaally did not want to pass up on. very short.

you’d be sitting in front of him as he grinds into a pillow, his hands gripping the front of it for leverage.

daisuke would be in a hurry, trying to cum as soon as possible. you’d have to hold on to his hips to stop him, guiding him in a much slower pace that has him getting teary-eyed. he’s never been patient, not understanding the appeal of not having an orgasm when they feel so good, and you know that if you don’t stop him he’ll grind himself into one before you can even blink. 

the only clothing he has on is his uniform shirt, his impatience having got the best of him. his eyes are barely open, his attention focused entirely on the pillow he's trying his best to grind into. his clit barely catches onto it so he has to keep fixing his position before he finds the right spot. he's asking for you, begging for you to "just help him out a little." but before you know it he's found it, and to make it easier for him you hold onto his hips again, this time easing him into a gentle bounce. now he's moaning, his hands hold on to your shoulders for support before he's over the edge. and if you're really lucky, he may even be able to handle doing it one more time.

sometimes instead of a pillow, you can make daisuke ride you through your jeans. it makes him whiny. he’s too clumsy to do it properly, never quite being able to get enough friction or build up a satisfying orgasm on his own. he won’t be able to stop talking if you put your hand between you and his clit, thanking you and telling you how much he loves you as you grind the heel of your palm in sync with his desperate humping. he only quiets down when he finally cums, not having the energy (or the voice) to say any more.

curly is a lot shyer, and much more patient. you have to egg him on with encouraging words until he works up the confidence to add some flourish to his riding. he’s better at circling his hips and knowing when and where to bounce on the pillow to build up his pleasure. you don’t need to physically guide him, but the more praise and motivation you give him the quicker he gets to cumming.

he bites his lip, already his heart drums loudly in his ears. his hands run down his body to squeeze his thighs, and with his eyes shut he tries to pretend like it's you he's grinding against. the thought makes his hole flutter as he attempts to slowly drag his clit against the cushion. he lets himself have a couple bounces before he stops, his thighs closing around the pillow with finality as he waits.

he leans forward to kiss you until he starts grinding again. you give him more words of encouragement, and though by this point he doesn't really need them, your praise has his arousal skyrocketing anyway. he lets himself moan just loud enough that only you can hear them. the pillow brushes against his clit at a swift pace, and after his orgasm rushes over him his body slumps forward, his legs now too shaky to comfortably hold him up. you pull him into your arms, massaging his aching hands, and quietly into his ear you tell him just how well your captain curly did.

[florihaei]

sᴛɪʟʟ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ .ᐟ ✦ ──── ꒰ 엔하이픈 ꒱

𝑺𝑪𝑹𝑰𝑷𝑻 ✶ ─── you ignore him at a party, and now he’s done waiting. wc .ᐟ : 230-300 each member ₊ ˖ ་.

❤︎ ໋𓈒 𝗙𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 — enhypen x fem!reader ׂ ִ

͏꒰ 𝑩𝑬 𝑪𝑨𝑼𝑻𝒊𝑶𝑼𝑺❕ — jealousy, tension, suggestive, mild angst, makeups, kissing, pet names : baby, doll, pretty girl, sweetheart, angel. ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏꒰ ᴠᴀᴜʟᴛ ꒱ ✿.͏͏ ͏ ͏

꒰ AUTUM TALKS ꒱ - ͏back with another enhypen post after so long, hopefully you guys enjoy!!

• 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝒊𝑺𝑻 ˖ ་ — • 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 .ᐟ (fill out the form, or send a ask!)

• ✉️ ~ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴇᴇᴅʙᴀᴄᴋ ɪs ɢʀᴇᴀᴛʟʏ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ !

͏꒰ ʟᴇᴇ ʜᴇᴇsᴇᴜɴɢ ꒱ ✿.͏͏ ͏ ͏

heeseung watches you from across the room, tongue pressing into his cheek when you laugh at something another guy says. his drinks warm in his hand, untouched, forgotten. he hasn’t approached you, not because he doesn’t want to, but because you haven’t even looked his way all night. and you always look at him first. that’s how he knows something is wrong. when you brush past him toward the hallway, he follows quietly. “you done pretending you don’t know me baby?” he mumbles when you stop outside the bathroom, and you flinch not expecting him there. heeseung steps into your space, his palm brushing your waist. “don’t act like i don’t see you looking when you think i’m not.” he voice is soft but low. “you may at me princess? hm?” his fingers ghost over your hip. “you want me to beg for your attention?” and maybe he would, if you kept ignoring him any longer.

—

͏꒰ ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴊᴏɴɢsᴇᴏɴɢ ꒱ ✿.͏͏ ͏ ͏

jay doesn’t chase people, he never does, but you’re not people, your his. and yet tonight you’ve been acting like a stranger. the way you avoided him when he walked in, the way you smiled for everyone else but kept your back turned when he hovered nearby. he can feel the irritation burn behind his calm expression. he waits until you’re alone in the kitchen, scrolling through your phone with one hand wrapped around a plastic cup. “funny how you’ve got time for everyone but me” he says, leaning beside you, his voice is low, but he’s visibly annoyed. “wanna tell me what i did doll?, or do i have to guess?”you roll your eyes, but he’s already moving closer, backing you up against the counter. “you ignoring me all night got my head spinning sweetheart, you think im gonna just let they slide?”!his lips hover over your cheek but don’t touch. “next time you wanna punish me, make sure your ready for how i’ll make it up to you after.”

—

͏꒰ sɪᴍ ᴊᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴ ꒱ ✿.͏͏ ͏ ͏

jake had been looking at you the entire party. every room, every laugh that sounded like yours, every song you liked that played. and then he found you - talking to a guy he had never seen before. smiling like everything was fine. he doesn’t interpret, just stares for a second too long before turning on his heel. you find him outside later, pacing by the porch steps with a red solo cup clenched too tightly. when he sees you, he doesn’t smile. “so.. we’re doing that now?” his voice is hurt more than anger. “you can’t even say hi? couldn’t even look at me once?”. you start to speak, but he’s already pulling you into a hug, burying his face in your neck. “i didn’t like it” he mutters. “watching you pretend i wasn’t there.” he breaths you in like he’s scared you’ll slip away again. “you’re mine, right? just tell me i didn’t mess it up baby.”

—

͏꒰ ᴘᴀʀᴋ sᴜɴɢʜᴏᴏɴ ꒱ ✿.͏͏ ͏ ͏

sunghoon’s patience runs thin when you act like this. cold, distant, laughing too hard at someone jokes that isn’t his. he stays composed, he always does, but it gnaws at him. especially when you walk past him without even glancing. he corners you in the hallway upstairs, far from the music and noise. “you’re really not gonna talk to me tonight?” his voice is dry, sarcastic actually. “or is it jsut more fun pretending i don’t exist?” you raised a brow, crossing your arms, but before you can respond, he moves closer. not touching you, just hovering. “if you wanted my attention that bad, baby all you had to do was asked.” his smirk is faint, but when he sees the flicker of hurt in your eyes, it all changes, he softens. “hey.. baby.. just don’t shut me out like that, you know i hate it.”

—

͏꒰ ᴋɪᴍ sᴜɴᴏᴏ ꒱ ✿.͏͏ ͏ ͏

you’ve been surrounded by people all night, but none of them are him. and that’s what kills sunoo. he’s used to your energy, your smile when you spot him, the way you pull him into the crowd like he’s your favorite person in the world. but not tonight. tonight, you don’t even look his way. and when you do, it’s empty. he finds you by the balcony, finally alone, and slips beside you. “did i do something wrong?” he ask quietly, his voice almost drowned out by the bass of the music inside. “or do you just not care anymore?” you turn to him, startled by his tone. there’s no drama in his face, just soft and hurt. “you don’t have to ignore me to prove a point” he says. “it works.. i miss you sunshine, it sucks.” he leans in, brushing your arm with his fingertips. “come home with me sunshine, let’s stop pretending we’re strangers.”

—

͏꒰ ʏᴀɴɢ ᴊᴜɴɢᴡᴏɴ ꒱ ✿.͏͏ ͏ ͏

jungwon is calm, always, but when you ignore him like this, laughing with people who don’t know you like he does, it sets something sharp off in his chest. he doesn’t show it, not right away. but he watches, and listens. and when he sees someone lean to close , hears your laugh that used to be his, he finally pull you aside.“is that what we’re doing now pretty girl?” he asks, his voice low and steady. “you’re upset , that’s fine but ignoring me like i’m nothing?” his hand clenches then unclenches at his sides. “that’s cold, even for you.” your silence only fuels him. “i would’ve fixed it pretty girl..” he whispered. “whatever i did, i would’ve fixed it the second i knew something was wrong.” he looks you dead in the eye. “but you don’t even give me a chance.”

—

͏꒰ ɴɪsʜɪᴍᴜʀᴀ ʀɪᴋɪ ꒱ ✿.͏͏ ͏ ͏

niki is young, but not dumb. he knows what it means when you go quiet on him. he knows what it means when you keep laughing like he’s not three feet away, watching every move you make. he doesn’t do jealousy, not really, but this feels like a punishment. so he waits. then he grabs your wrist as you head to the bathroom. “you ignoring me for fun or for real?” he ask. his voice is flat, but his eyes are burning. “you think that shit’s cute?”. you stare at him, your eyes wide. and that’s when his expression softens. “i don’t like feeling replaceable..” he mumbles. “not when you’re all i ever look at.” he leans in close, lips brushing your ear. “next time you wanna make me jealous baby don’t forget who gets to take you home.”

[23swife]

୨ৎ your camera roll when you start dating dean winchester

So many dates. Dean can’t believe you even said yes to being with him. You want to spend your time with him? Willingly? It’s a fever dream. And so every single case the only thing he talks about is how after it’s done you and him are going to the cool diner you passed on the way, and you need to try the pie, or that you’re both definitely gonna try fishing in the lake. Or on the nights when you’re both so incredibly exhausted from all the dying and running so you decide to go for a drive. Dean thinks those are his favorite. The both of you in the car with Zeppelin on blast, sometimes your girly music too, and he tells you how much he loves you. He stops the both of you at a random spot, thinks you’ll both be there for a second but a kiss through the window turns to more and you’re there for hours. He tells you to delete the picture later, says no one needs to find him kissing you on your phone but when you decline once he doesn’t argue. He wants you happy and you’re happiest when you’re capturing him in his element. Whether it be him eating, fishing, or kissing you in Baby and being your boyfriend— because he’s damn good at that, no matter his own thoughts about it.

You decide hunting can’t be your entire life if you’re going to spend it together but you hate to admit how scared you are to tell Dean that so you start in slow steps. You pick up less cases and Sam doesn’t care, he’s always out with his new girlfriend anyway, sometimes hunts with her. You use one of Bobby’s cabins for a two day vacation with Dean. It’s hardly anything, no beach or big city, just the forest but you think it’s just as beautiful. You think Dean’s beautiful. He’s just talking to you, gambling with his life while he sits in the thin ledge and you let him because if Hell couldn’t bring him down, a ledge can’t even try. He’s happy. He’s telling you about why he thinks Back to California beats Stairway to Heaven and you’re not sure you’re listening. He groans when he sees you snapping a picture. The next day, the last day, of your vacation you’re both at a bar type of place. You’re not sure what it is but it’s cozy enough that you choose a booth to take your heels off in and when they start announcing that tonight’s all about the crowd, you bite your lip in anticipation. Dean’s always been shy when it comes to his singing but you know he’s good, he’s talented for someone who’s never once been to a lesson. You all but beg him to go up there and he stares at you throughout the entire song. You’re both leaving to get back to the bunker when it starts raining. You thought you’d use it as an excuse to stay longer but as you’re both leaving you notice that dean’s not mentioned hunting once. He doesn’t care. For once, you believe you might actually have a chance at getting him out of the life and snap a picture in the rain to send the news to Sam. He thinks you’re crazy. Crazy enough to actually do it.

part three :: yes this is now a series, last one coming out in a week<3 and im making another series for sam, you’re the ‘gf’ for him mentioned in this one.

[parkerluvsu]

Heyyyyyy i loved your " PonyBoy " fic even though i hoped there will be some smut in it but can you pleaaaaaase do first time with cowboy bf Art 🧎‍♀️

omg yes you can!! im so sorry im definitely better at writing smut in a shorter fic than a longer one 😭

BED CHEM (cowboy! art donaldson x virgin! fem! reader)

art donaldson is a gentleman, truly. he pulls out chairs before you sit on them, he opens your car door for you, and carries you when your feet hurt from walking in heels all night. yes, art donaldson is a gentleman, but he's still a man. he can't stop himself from gazing a little too long at your thighs when you wear a short skirt, or your breasts when you're leaning over the table to point at something. little does he know, you're wearing these short skirts and low cut tops on purpose, you wanna see him crack, to shed that polite shell and do what he wants with you.

art is taking you out tonight, he surprised you with tickets to see a movie at the drive-in theatre in town. as you're swiping on shiny lip gloss in the mirror you decide that tonight will be the night. youve asked him to take your virginity before, practically begged him to, but he always says the same thing, "i wouldn't want you to regret it" it makes you angry, honestly, how could you regret having your first time with the best boyfriend you've ever had! you went shopping especially for tonight, hiding the blush on your face as you checked out with a set of baby blue panties, with lace trim around the edges. lost in your thoughts, you hardly notice the honk coming from outside, signaling that art is here. giving yourself one last look in the mirror, you hop down the stairs, grabbing keys and a bag before exiting your house, waving to art, who's sitting in his beaten up pickup truck. you can't help but giggle a little bit when his mouth drops open at the sight of you wearing less than he's probably ever seen you wear. getting into the car, you give him a quick peck on the cheek, art starts the car and you're on your way. as usual, arts hand finds its way to your thigh as he drives, his thumb slowly rubbing it side to side. "darlin' i-is that dress new?" you can tell arts nervous about asking, not wanting to offend you. "yeah sort of, i just haven't worn it yet. you like it?" you ask, knowing he does like it, you can tell by the way his eyes flick down every couple seconds to look at your exposed skin. he chuckles, nodding quickly as he turns into the outdoor movie theater parking lot. when he stops, you turn to art, subtly moving your arms to press your breasts together. batting your eyelashes, you ask, "art, baby would you grab me a soda from the concessions stand?" art has to tear his eyes away from your chest to answer, "'course sweetheart, be back in a minute" he exits the car, shutting the door and walking off.

now that he's gone, you can work on your plan even more, adjusting your bra to push up your breasts more, shimmying your skirt up to expose more of your legs, and pulling down a mirror to re-apply your shiny lip-gloss. taking a deep breath, you wait for art to return. when he gets back you smile sweetly at him, taking your drink and sucking on the straw and making eye contact with him. you don't see it, but art has to wipe his sweaty palms on his jeans, your suggestive actions making him break out in a sweat just from the effort to not jump your bones in this shitty drive in parking lot.

both you and art feel like the cheesy 90 minute movie is taking about 3 hours, for you, youre waiting for art to make a move, or at least signal that hes open to your obvious advances. for art, hes running scenario after scenario in his head, what could go right, what could go wrong, and everything in between. when the movie finally ends, art drives you home in silence, both of you trying to find something to say. stopping in front of your house he turns toward you, opening his mouth to say something before you interrupt him, "will you come inside?" art shuts his mouth quickly and nods, letting his cowboy hat fall in front of his flushed face.

walking up the steps to your door, art follows close behind you, bowing his head when he gets through the door. it's hard to the describe the feeling you get when youre walking towards your bedroom with art, hes been here before but this time feels different. sitting on the edge of your creaky bed, art makes the first move, cupping your face with his larger hand and pressing his mouth to yours, handling you soft and sweet, like he knows you deserve. he has to stop himself from groaning into your mouth when you move his hat off of his head, threading your fingers through his hair. art pulls you closer, his hands on your waist, lightly squeezing. the kiss turns more heated, and to your delight, art seems more accepting of the change of pace than he was in times before, the farthest you've gone was lightly grinding over his worn jeans. without taking his mouth off of yours, art moves you onto his lap, one hand on the small of your back to keep you steady, and the other one cupping your face gently. you have to pull away first, as much as you'd like to keep kissing him you don't want to suffocate. opening your eyes and pulling away you're able to see the cute flush on arts face, his pupils dialated and his hair messy. "i wanna keep going art.. please, ive asked you before" you don't want to sound desperate, but you are, the butterflies in your stomach becoming more intense. you can tell that arts mulling it over in his head, biting his lip.

"alright darlin' you trust me yeah? you have to tell me if you dont want me to do something, promis me, won't you?" he asks, the hand on your back rubbing up and down. you nod eagerly, "i promise art" art smiles, leaning in to kiss you again, this times with more passion than before, now knowing that you want everything he can give you. leaning into him, you undo the buttons on arts shirt quickly, helping him take it off of his shoulders. you run your hands down his chest, smiling into the kiss when he shivers. arts hands, callused from his work as a cowboy, dip under the hem of your shirt, helping you pull it up and over your shoulders. art attaches his lips to your neck, sucking and biting, leaving purple marks in his wake that you're sure will be hard to cover. under the guise of kissing your neck, arts expert hands undo the clasp of your bra, removing it from your chest. youre lost in the feeling of his mouth against you, arts lips moving against your chest. you try to reach down and undo arts belt, but it's proving more difficult than you thought. art, luckily knows what youre trying to do, moving you off of his lap and placing you gently against your pillows, kneeling between your spread legs.

arts mouth is against yours once again, you hear the clunk of his belt against the floor and you smile, letting him kiss his way down your stomach. art looks up at you from between your legs, his blue eyes meeting yours, "if you wanna go further i gotta prep you first, alright darlin'?" you nod, letting him slip off your skirt. in your haste, you had forgotten the special panties you were wearing just for him, but arts soft gasp against you brings you back to earth. he slips off your panties quickly as well, and you're almost offended that he didn't admire them more, until you notice him sticking them into his back pocket, the blue lace peeking out. art rubs a finger up and down your slick folds, his mouth coming to press a kiss on your clit, causing your hand to fly down to grip onto his hair. you feel him grin against you, before putting his mouth to work, pressing as close as he can to you. the sudden intrusion of one of his fingers startles you, causing you to clench tightly around him. he sighs onto you, the breath of warm air intensifying the feeling even more. "fuck sweetheart you gotta relax more for me, or else im never gonna fit in here.." he practically groans against you. you nod, letting your head flop against the pillow behind you, letting his thumb rub quick circles on your clit, distracting you from the stretch of another finger inside of you. you have to resist the urge to shut your thighs around arts head when he scissors his fingers inside of you, the feeling getting closer and closer to the pleasure you feel when you're alone in bed.

suddenly, you're ripped out of the clouds of pleasure when art takes his fingers out of you, making his way back up your body. he kisses your forehead, looking at you softly. "you have a condom right? i want you to be safe the first time" you nod, reaching into your bedside drawer for the box of condoms you got for this very occasion. he takes one from you, ripping off the wrapper with his teeth and pulling it over his dick. he hovers over you again, pressing his forehead against yours, noticing your wide eyes when you look down and see his size. he taps your cheek gently, "focus on me, okay? i promise ill take care of you darlin'" you nod, letting him press his tip into you. art sees the grimace on your face and pauses, letting you adjust. when he sees you've relaxed he starts again, repeating the cycle until he's fully pressed into you. now its your turn to tap him on the cheek, letting him know that he can start to move. arts eyes flutter closed, pulling his hips out slowly before thrusting back into you, pushing out moan after moan from you, his dick reaching spots your fingers never could. arts thrusts are languid and deep, making sure you can feel every inch of his when he pushes back into you. art almost looses his mind when you wrap your legs around his hips, making sure he isnt going anywhere. art can tell you're close, the way your moans are getting louder and louder in his ear, and the way you're pulsing around him. "i- im close art" you manage to get the words out between moans. art nods, speeding up his thrusts to meet your needs. "alright sweetheart.. it's okay, it's okay, fuck, im close too" he groans out, his hips starting to stutter. lucky for art, you cum first, he thinks the guilt of cumming before you on your first time would eat him alive. he kisses you through your orgasm, swallowing your moans of his name as he gives you a few last thrusts before he's tumbling over the edge right after you. art lets you ride out your orgasm before slowly pulling out, throwing away the condom and laying down next to you. after you catch your breath, you lay your head on arts chest, the steady beat of his heart calming your own. his hand comes to hold yours, squeezing it gently. "you did real good for your first time darlin'" you smile, grateful for the praise from him. you reach over the bed, grabbing his cowboy hat and putting it on. "next time ill be on top okay? i wanna be a cowgirl" you giggle, winking at him. he laughs and shakes his head, rubbing your back. "you don't even know what youre getting yourself into sweetheart.." <3

[unholybacon355]

Extra Credits

G!P Winter x Im Nayeon

Word Count: 9.2 K

Masterlist

A/N: Do you still remember me? ahahahah I have been busy lately, but finally manages to come back with something "new". Well, if you follow me you will know this is a rewrite of one of my stories from my Kinktober run from last year. I loved so much writing this the first time, so i had to do it again but adding some thing. I didn't knew it gonna ended being this long, but at least was fun to write.

Hope you have fun reading it too.

Of course there were rumors, but there always has been rumors about professors doing that. Not just here, but probably at every university around the world. The thing is that Minjeong never imagined herself being involved in something like that. Also Minjeong never thought that she would need to be on her knees in order to approve this class. She came to Professor Nayeon's office to ask, or beg if necessary, for a chance to earn some extra points to increase her grade and pass her class. Minjeong was thinking of something like extra homework, a special test, maybe even doing Professor’s laundry,  or in the worst case giving her a massage. But nothing remotely close to being on her knees with her face buried between Nayeon’s thighs.

To be honest she had to perform that massage, that was exactly what led to this situation. Because when her professor saw she was willing to do almost everything for not failing her class she took advantage of that. “You should have paid more attention to my lectures instead of gossiping with Yizhuo at the back of the class.” The stare on Nayeon's eyes was severe. “You can’t do a special test, that would not be fair for the rest of the students, those who really paid attention to what I said, but you still can earn those points.” Minjeong was waiting patiently to know what that assignment would be. “ See. Being an attractive and young professor has its pros and cons, and one of their cons is that I have to wear these heels every day.” Minjeong wasn't understanding where this was going, but didn’t dare to interrupt her professor. “ My feet feel so sore that I would really use a massage.”

So this was her task, just give her professor a simple massage on her feet. Just a few moments of discomfort for her and with that Minjeong could save her semester. It wasn´t that terrible, at least she won't have to touch Nayeon's dirty laundry. “I can do that. I’m not an expert but I'm going to give my best to leave your feet all rested and feeling good.” 

“Good girl. Of course you can´t tell anyone about this. This would be our little secret.” Minjeong moved her head in a sign of aprovation. “Now let’s get into it.” Without hesitation Nayeon reached her feet and slipped her heels off. A moment later her feet were resting over her wooden desk, waiting for Minjeong to touch them.

“No- Now?” The student wasn’t expecting to do such a thing right now. Nayeon didn’t even cleaned her feet or something, she just got rid of her shoes and that was all. 

“I have to report the students' grades by the end of this week. If it isn't right now then going to be never.”

So Minjeong was left with no option. Or she gives Nayeon a massage on her feet or better be looking for a good excuse to give to her parents to explain why she failed this class. To be fair, the first option looked so much better, that’s why Minjeong rolled up her sleeves and began giving the older woman the said massage. “Mmmm… Mis Nayeon. By any chance do you have lotion or some kind of corporal cream?” Minjeong saw in a movie that they were doing massages with that kind of things, so she decided to give it a try. For her luck Nayeon was vain enough to have lotion on one of her drawers. 

Minjeong poured lotion into her hand and then spreaded over Nayeon’s foot. The professor let out a sign of relief  when the cold lotion touched her skin and Minjeon’s finger started to work. In fact Nayeon’s feet felt like she was needing that massage with urgency, and her student was giving her best here.

“That actually feels good, maybe you’re earning those extra credits.” To be fair the student was doing a good job, even with her lack of experience in the matter. Nayeon was sitting very comfortably with her head hanging back and her hands resetting over her tummy. The professor was for sure enjoying this. Minjeong wasn’t.

Nayeon’s feet were quite popular among her weird classmates, males mostly, but Minjeong wasn’t one of those freaks. Even with her pedi being impeccably done in a silver tone, matching with her hands, Minjeong felt nothing doing this because she was touching someone else's dirty feet. Well, Nayeon’s feet weren’t dirty, the professor was spotless; but Minjeong still was a little bit disgusted by this. 

The only good thing she was getting for this agreement was that she had free rein to look at Nayeon’s legs, and that was something she liked a lot. Her professor had perfectly sculpted legs with fine calves and in some way, for a woman with her contexture, meaty thighs. Nayeon’s silky legs have always been a great distraction for Minjeong, and now that she is resting with her head hanging back and her eyes closed, is the perfect moment for her to appreciate them. 

The student's eyes wandered from Nayeon’s ankles to her thighs, and came back to her ankles again. Not missing any detail and trying to carve into her memory how absolutely wonderful Nayeon’s legs were. Was where her eyes ventured further into her professor´s thighs that she noticed something that made her blush. 

In order to sit how she was doing, and being able to open her legs to let Minjeong perform the massage, Nayeon had lifted her skirt. But maybe she lifted it a little too much because her inner thighs were on display, and Minjeong could swear she saw something more; maybe it was her imagination or maybe not. In any case the student focused again on what she was doing, instead of looking like a horny teenager at her professor's legs, with her face blushing because of the shame.  

But there is a saying that goes "Curiosity killed the cat", the thing is that Minjeong is not a cat, so she looked again. This time was more evident, or maybe the skirt magically rolled a little bit up, Minjeong really could see a glimpse of her professor’s underwear. Still not much but enough to tell the garment is white. 

A sound of satisfaction came from Nayeon's mouth and made Minjeong move her head so fast that if this were a cartoon instead of real life, her neck would have sounded like a whiplash. Her face was red, she could feel her cheeks burning. She should just focus on the massage instead of checking out her professor. Better do this quickly and return home because it was getting late.

“You said you aren’t an expert, but you’re making me feel like I was wasting my money paying for massages.” That probably was a lie, but Minjeong appreciated it anyway. “ Can you stretch my toes a little? Wearing heels all day compresses them a lot.” Saying that Nayeon sinked  more on her chair and separated her feet a little bit. 

“Ok Miss Nayeon. I’ll do it.” Minjeong tried to sound normal but from inside she was panicking. She just saw her professor’s underwear, a dream for what some of her classmates would have killed. Nayeon was quite popular among the students for being pretty and always acting funny. She was not as mean as the other professors, and always was wearing formal outfits that accentuated her figure. Nayeon was hot and she knew it, but she has never insinuated to any student. Of course there were rumors, but hot professors always got those kinds of rumors on them. 

Again with the thought that she wasn’t a cat, and with her face feeling considerably less red, Minjeong was debating if she should look again or not. Maybe a little and quick look just to have something to remember, that could not do any harm to her. So taking her time, and without stopping the massage, Minjeong’s eyes started wandering again across her professor's legs. Going up at a slow pase in case she needed to look away, but never stopping to go forward. Soon her gaze reached the point she was looking for, but what she saw this time almost made her jaw drop to the ground.

There was Nayeon, her professor, laying on her desk chair with her skirt wrinkled around her waist and her legs slightly open. Minjeong didn’t look when Nayeon changed her position, but now she was clearly seeing a lot; because with the skirt out of her way and with her legs this open the student could perfectly see her professor’s panties. 

Of course Nayeon was wearing lingerie, and of course was a thong just big enough to cover her private parts. That sight made Minjeong droll almost immediately, and leave her feeling like she was witnessing a work of art that wasn’t meant for her eyes, as if she were standing in the middle of a private galley.

Minjeong swallows hardly the knot that has formed in her throat. If her classmates would gladly commit crimes for touching Nayeon's feet she was sure they would do terrible things to have the chance she's having now, to be able to see her professor's crotch as she was seeing right now.

And as far as Minjeong could see, her professor was completely shaved. She could swear that Nayeon's skin on that spot was softer than her legs, and she really wished she could massage that tender skin instead of Nayeon's feet. Minjeong even could swear she could see something through the lace fabric of the panties. All she needs to do is close her eyes a little to have a better focus on the spot, and…

“Ahem!! Are you enjoying the view?” Poor Minjeong was so focused on checking Nayeon that she forgot to keep her hands moving and she was just holding Nayeon’s feet in place. Now her professor was staring at her with fire in her eyes and a crooked smile. After all, maybe Minjeong was a cat.

“N-no. Miss- professor. I… I…” The words were crowding in her throat and could not come out. Minjeong could feel how her face became as red as ever has been before, she was sure her face could serve a lighthouse in the middle of a storm. She practically could feel her cheeks burning for the shame of being caught looking at her professor´s crotch. “I can explain-”

“Explain what? That you are a pervert?” Despite calling Minjeong like that ,Nayeon didn’t cover herself, her skirt was still around her waist. 

“Nooo was just an accident. I didn’t mean to spy you.” Minjeong knew she was fucked up because she was caught staring directly at Nayeon’s crotch, there is no way she could get away from this. Maybe instead of failing one class she would end up being expelled, what an improvement. 

“I knew you were a pervert, like all your classmates, but never expected you to be so blatant.” Nayeon still didn't cover herself and Minjeong didn't know where to look. Her eyes were wandering across the decorations and various graduation certificates that suddenly became very interesting. Everything to no laid her eyes on her professor’s face. “Why don't you want to look at me? You were staring a moment ago.” Nayeon had her in her hands.

Suddenly Minjeong fell on her knees and gathered her hands making a gesture as she was praying to a superior being. “Please don't tell anyone.” There was no way that Nayeon could explain this to someone without getting herself in trouble, but she could lie and tell that Minjeong snuck in her office to do perverted stuff. Being a professor could guarantee easily getting away with a lie and put all the blame on her student.

“Aaaawwww!! You look so cute begging, maybe too cute.” Minjeong was waiting for a “but” and then Nayeon would sent her to the dean's office. What wasn't expecting was Nayeon, who still has her legs parted, to caress her ear with… a foot? Minjeong was frozen in the spot because her professor was using her bare foot to play on her ear. 

This was much more inappropriate than her massaging her professor's feet, but what came next was worse. Nayeon moves her foot across Minjeong cheek to her mouth and presses her toes between her lips. The student still didn't understand what was happening but for some reason allowed her professor toes into her mouth. 

“Suck it, come on. Now you need to be more proactive if you want those extra points.” The original deal was just a massage for those points, but being honest Nayeon never really said what were the characteristics of their deal; so poor Minjeong had no option but suck.

The taste was bad, after all Nayeon's feet were covered in lotion, so that was what Minjeong felt in her mouth. Feet wasn't her thing, so Minjeong put zero effort on sucking it, and after a moment the foot was separated from her mouth. “Ok, fine. If you don't like it then you can suck something else.”

If putting a foot in her mouth and making her suck it wasn't enough to earn those damn extra credits, the next idea Nayeon had definitely has to be. To Minjeong's surprise, for like the third or so time in the evening, Nayeon raised her hips and with a long single movement slid her panties down her legs. “Come here to have a better view and put your mouth to work.” 

The foot came back to Minjeong’s face but this time was used to press her head closer to Nayeon, and because she was on her knees it was impossible for her to resist. So Minjeong now was facing directly Nayeon’s most private area, and as she could see, her professor was completely waxed and pristine. “Hurry up and start eating.” Nayeon said with her knee resting placidly on Minjeong's shoulder.

“But.. But this is too much. I wouldn’t do it.” The student shook her head protesting for the new task given to her, but her eyes were still glued to her professor’s crotch. 

“So you don’t want to pass my class? Ok, but you will have to take this course next semester and I’ll make sure you end up in my classroom again.” The smile on Nayeon's face shows how she was enjoying pushing her student between the sword and the wall. “You already know I’m head of the Chemistry department. Is so easy for me to make you fail again and again…”

In Minjeong's opinion, and despite that she was enjoying the view, this was so unfair. She just came here for a few extra points, just a little help to not fail this class, and now her professor is taking advantage of that. But what Nayeon said left her with not much options, if she reprove Chemistry her parents are going to be so disappointed and mad at her that probably going to have her studding during all the vacations. All that because Yizhuo couldn’t stop updating her about the most juicy gossip in the campus. But these stories weren’t as juicy as what she had in front of her eyes.

Honestly Nayeon was hot, Minjeong has no problem admitting that, so hot that is definitely out of her league. A young professor so smart that she is already head of her department, a respected academic, an extortionist, in short a very hot woman offered to her on a silver platter. And who was Minjeong to say no? She was already salivating and all she had to do was eat her professor. Give her a good moment, also enjoy the process, and at the end of the day she will pass her class and luckily don't have to deal with her again.

“Ok…” The tone was much more of defeat than she actually felt. “I’ll do it.” All what she received in return was a giggle and a gentle push on her back. With Nayeon thigh pressed against her cheek Minjeong finally sealed her lips over her professor’s other pair of lips, in a shy kiss. Was no surprise to her that Nayeon was already excited for this, her folds were already beginning to shine with her own nectar like dew on the grass in the morning.

The taste was a hundred times better than that of her feet, an improvement that sent Minjeong in an ecstasy that she wasn’t expecting to reach anytime soon. The girl wasn’t getting laid and this is the closest she has been in months to actually having sex. Not because she didn't want to or because she wasn’t popular, but because she was so busy studying. Studying other things because obviously not chemistry, otherwise she wouldn't be in this situation. 

As Minjeong thought Nayeon’s skin was so soft there, so delicate, she felt like she was kissing silk or something similar; not even Nayeon’s legs were as soft as her private area. Suddenly Minjeong has the urge to know if her professor’s insides were as soft as her skin outside, so she softly pushes her tongue between the delicate folds parting them and gathering some of the nectar. The muffled sound of a sigh came from Nayeon´s mouth, a single proof that Minjeong was doing good to use her tongue.

The tongue was going deeper and deeper and soon Minjeong was eating with a new found hunger, putting on it all the effort she didn't put into sucking Nayeon's foot.

Nayeon used her hand to cover her mouth in an attempt to shut her moans, which were slowly increasing in volume. Minjeong wasn't that good at giving head, but clearly she was doing something good here. Much better than the massage. That, or maybe her professor wasn't getting laid either. The other Nayeon’s hand has a tight grip in the chair.

With gentle touches with her heel, more like rubbing than anything else, Nayeon encourages her student to keep being proactive. Her hand is now more busy than ever trying to mute her moans because even when this part of the building is almost empty at this time of the evening, never is good having such sounds of pleasure coming out of a professor's office.

As Nayeon tries to mute herself, Minjeong's tongue keeps exploring the insides of her entrance. Soft, warm and wet was all that Nayeon’s cunt was, the ideal environment to maintain Minjeong busy eating and drinking all of her nectar. A task that the student was doing gladly because it is the best nectar she has drunk in a lot of time, or maybe in all of her life. That to be honest hasn’t been a lot of times.

Minjeong keeps eating using her tongue and lips to do a proper job, just navigating by instinct to finally earn those extra points. Maybe being a little bit more proactive, as Nayeon said, would help her in this task. So Minjeong decided to do a bolt movement and push apart her professor's leg. Making more room for herself. The new position allows her to eat better, and Nayeon seems to be grateful for that because she uses her heel to rub Minjeong’s back once again. 

When Minjeong was spacing out just thinking about eating and how good her professor's taste was she felt a gentle hand over her head, long fingers interlocking with her hair and capturing her to maintain Minjeong in position. As if she wasn't already trapped under Nayeon's knee. Besides that, who would try to run from this? Certainly not Minjeong, despite being reluctant at the beginning now was enjoying the process of eating out her professor.

It wasn't long before Nayeon let go of Minjeong's head and used her hand to grab the arm of the chair again. If the student had been able to see, she would have noticed how her professor was gripping the chair tighter than ever. It was very clear that Nayeon was close.

Even when Minjeong was sure she wasn't that good at giving heat, especially to women, she made her professor come really fast. If this would have been a male professor it would have been really embarrassing for him, but since it was Nayeon there was no shame in having an orgasm in just five minutes. Maybe after all Nayeon wasn't getting laid at all.

After a few uncontrollable shakes of her body and holding Minjeong in place to rub her vulva against her mouth, Nayeon finally released her student for the embrace of her legs. “I was needing that.” The professor said still having trouble breathing normally, the only visible aftermath of her recent orgasm. Well, that and the fact that her hair was a little messy.

“Now you earn the right to have a special test.” Nayeon said, putting her feet on the ground and approaching Minjeong to clean out her own juices from her mouth and chin. After rubbing the sleeve of her blouse in the face of the student for a few moments Nayeon decided she was clean and let her go.

“Test?... But…. But… You said after eating you out I'll earn those points.” 

“I didn't say anything about that.” Nayeon had a sinister smirk on her face. “You had to give me a massage, and since you didn't do it because you were busy checking me out, consider giving me a head as compensation.” That wasn't fair, but once again the professor was right since she never said oral sex was part of the deal for the extra credits. 

Minjeong needs to be more careful here or Nayeon would keep changing the deal and adding tasks. Now she's talking about a test, what next? “A test?” Minjeong asked with puppy eyes and fearing the answer. “But you said you couldn't.”

“Yes, but I'm the head of the department. Also no one besides you and me is going to know about this.” As she said that, Nayeon grabbed some baby wipes from god knows where and used them to clean her crotch of all the remnants of her orgasm and Minjeong's saliva.

“Ok, but Professor. You have to promise this is the last thing I have to do.” Minjeong didn't know why she was still on her knees since no one was stopping her from standing up, but for some reason she thought defying Nayeon's authority wasn't a good idea. Even when she was drawing a line and making her point.

“Look who is getting brave” Nayeon still maintains that smirk. “But ok, this test is going to be the last thing you have to do. I promise it.” In a gesture never shown before, Nayeon pets Minjeong's head. That was weirdly satisfying to Minjeong. “Now get on your feet and take your pants down.”

 “Wait, what?” Took Minjeong a few seconds to understand what she just heard. “N-no… Why? No, wait noooo.” 

“It's an important part of the test.” Nayeon moves her hand in a gesture telling Minjeong to stand up. “Now, don't make me waste my time and get your pants off.” 

Minjeong was back on her feet but making no move to open her pants zipper. “Professor, we can't do this. This is too much. We can't have sex.”

Nayeon lets out a loud burst of laughter covering her mouth with one of her big hands. “You already ate me out. Oral sex is sex.” Another audible laugh. “But I know what you mean, and no. We aren't fucking like that. I bet your little weiner isn't worthy of that.”

“I'm not that small.”  Winter interrupted her professor’s laugh to defend her honor. “Isn't huge but also isn't small. I'm average size, and…”

“You're just giving me the reason. Just accept it is small, there is no problem…” Minjeong didn't realize that her professor was just making fun of her and didn't actually know the size of her penis.

“Isn't small!!” Rising her voice more than she probably should, Winter opens her zipper and yanks her pants down as well with her boxer. “I'm average.” Driven by the humiliation she undressed her lower part with even thinking about what she was doing.

In fact Minjeong dick wasn't that small. As she said she was average, even semi erected as it was that was easy to tell. But that doesn't seem to stop Nayeon from making fun of her.

“Ok, you aren't small.” Nayeon rolled her eyes and stopped laughing. “Maybe tiny is a better adjective.” Another loud laugh. Nayeon's smile was so big that not even her already big hand could cover her mouth.

“Professor I'm not-” Suddenly Nayeon laid a hand on Winter's right thigh and made her shiver. “... I'm not tiny. I'm…” She finished the sentence lowering her voice with each syllable until her voice was just a whisper. For some reason she was staring at the floor. And for another unknown reason that hand was raising the temperature in her crotch.

“Turn around and bend over my desk.” Wasn't a suggestion, it was a command given with a calm voice and emphasized with a small squeeze of Minjeong's thigh. Maybe that's the power, the spell, Nayeon uses to control her students. Or more accurately, her alchemy.

Minjeong did as she was told, turning around with small steps because her pants were around her ankles. She immediately missed the warm touch of Nayeon's hand over her skin. Her hands were so big, and in Minjeong’s opinion so pretty too, they were surely much bigger than Minjeong hands.

If Nayeon's feet were popular among male students, the equivalent were her hands being popular in the female population of her classroom. Or at least that was what Minjeong thought because to her feet were a weird thing to be horny about. But hands were a different story.

Nayeon has big hands, with long and slender fingers. But that far from being weird is so attractive. The professor always has her nails done and her fingers decorated with rings. One clearly could tell she was using lotion and other methods to maintain her skin soft and tender, even when she wasn't old enough to need to care about that matter.

Nayeon was smart, young, pretty, and very capable of doing whatever she would like to achieve. But she also was proud of how beautiful she's, of the effects she causes on people and the attention they give to her. She always could notice when a student or another professor was staring and eating her with their eyes, and she enjoys that.

Minjeong was thinking about Nayeon's hands when she felt one of those hands on her lower back, pushing her further. A shiver ran through her spine. “Bend over.” Nayeon repeated her command, and again Minjeong did obey without protesting. “What happened to being proactive?”

The student still didn't understand what her professor wanted from her, all she was told was to bend over the desk. “You have a nice little butt, and your balls look cute from this angle.” The touch of a single finger in Minjeong's scrotum made her tremble, this time a shiver ran through all her body.

The finger left quickly and now Nayeon puts her hands over her students butt. In fact Minjeong has a little ass, beautiful and round, pale and very soft. Nayeon's hands completely covered her buttocks and separated them revealing the wrinkled entrance of her anus. 

“Also cute, and clean too.” Nayeon murmured for herself before finally standing up. The student couldn't see what her professor was doing due to the position she was in, but she felt when her buttocks were released. No jiggle, they just returned with one single movement to their natural form hiding her rear entrance.

“Spread it for me.” Nayeon spanked the beautiful ass in front of her. For some reason her hand was cold and wet now. “Come one. I have other things to do.”

“Why spreading my ass is part of the tes-” The professor poked Minjeong's scrotum again, causing the latest to interrupt what she was saying to release a pathetic whimper. That single touch seems to be all Nayeon needed to convince her student.

Minjeong reached her own butt and spread it as she was told. Her face was bright red for the embarrassment of exposing herself like that. “Let's get it to it.” Another cold touch from Nayeon, this time her fingers landed in Minjeong's perineum and slowly went up to her wrinkled entrance.

Two fingers were making circles and daubing in her ass what Minjeong only could guess as the same lotion she previously used to massage Nayeon's feet. The substance was cold, making her tremble because of that freezing touch in such a private area. 

Nayeon's fingers were tracing circles and applying a little pressure, but never treating to go inside, to invade Minjeong in such a perverted way. Just circling around and smearing the viscous substance between Minjeong butt crack.

Despiste her initial doubts, all that action in her rear was making Minjeong dick hard. But her pulse was rising and with every pump was also a bit of shame drumming in the back of her heart. She was leaning over her professor's desks, with her ass wide open, and Nayeon threatening to do only God knows what to her. This was an abuse of power no matter the angle one could look at it.

But Minjeong was still enjoying it. She ate her professor's cunt, at some point her delicious nectar was covering her mouth and lips, and now was being touched in an inappropriate way. Has been so long since someone touched her like that, since she fucked someone or someone fucked her. That's why arousal was taking over her despite not being comfortable at all, that why she was softly whimpering when Nayeon was just spreading lotion in her ass.

“Ok, I think you're ready.” Nayeon pressed one single fingertip over Minjeong anus and opened it a little bit. Just a few millimeters went inside and then quickly left, but the finger reminds over her poor back entrance. “Rules are simple. I'm going to ask you five questions, if your answers are correct something good is going to happen to you. Answer the five correctly and those extra credits are finally yours.” Nayeon uses her free hand to fix Minjeong's blonde short hair in the back of her ear. “But if you fail this test, you fail my class.” Nayeon closes the distance between her and her student to whisper to her ear. “ Are you following me?”

Minjeong hardly swallowed the saliva that was gathering in her mouth. “Yes Professor. Five right answers and I will pass your class.” What that has to do with pressing a finger against her ass was something Minjeong didn't understand at all at that time. Maybe that would be the punishment if she fail a question, sexual torture gonna be the way to discipline her.

“Good, first question. What have the neutral atoms of all of the isotopes of the same element?”

“What? This is hard, how I am supposed to kn-” Nayeon tapped Minjeong's ass with her finger, cutting her words.

“If you attend my class you should know that. Now answer, this is just the first question.”

“Ok. They have… they have… The same number of electrons!” Minjeong answered maybe too excited to be right about something that basic. 

“Good girl, that's right. You have one good. Now your reward.” Without warning and against all Minjeong was thinking was gonna be her reward, Nayeon pushed her finger against her anus. This time she didn't stop after the tip but kept pushing until the two first phalanxes of her finger were inside her student.

Minjeong's body shivered due the unexpected invasion and the wave of pleasure that action caused her. More pleasure than she should be feeling for this, for her professor taking advantage of her and finger-penetrating her ass. But Nayeon’s finger felt so good opening her rear entrance, invading her. Wrong but pleasant at the same time.

With a single movement a big portion of that long and slender finger went inside her rectum. Minjeong could feel the icy touch against her walls and anus. Thank God that digit was coated with lotion and entered really easily. More easily than Minjeong would like to admit here.

With the intrusion a pathetic whimper leaves the student's mouth. One that she was fast to mute using her hands, but that means she leaves her butt.

“You need to pack yourself and maintain your butt open for me. Bite your lip or something because I swear to God if someone hears your pathetic moans you are going to know what is good.”

“Why is putting a finger inside of me a reward?” Minjeong asked in a tone of protest and defeat. However her hands returned to spread her butt cheeks.

“I ask the questions here. Now get ready for the second one, this is very easy.”Nayeon changed the tone to the one she uses when giving her lectures, before continuing. “How many p electrons are in an atom of rubidium?”

That was an easy one? Really? Minjeong could not get herself to remember at what time of the semester she learned that, she wasn’t even sure to know what element rubidium was. Maybe shutting her eyes could make her focus on remembering the information she needed and not on the fact that Nayeon was moving her finger. At a tortuous pace, but still moving it. 

“Eighteen.” That sounded more like a question than a proper answer, luckily for her her professor didn’t notice that and counted it as a good answer. 

“Ok, another good one.” This time Minjeong was prepared for what was coming, but that didn’t help at all to dilute the feeling of a second finger penetrating her. The student has to rest her forehead against the cold surface of the wooden desk, and press her lips together to not let any sound escape from her mouth. A really hard task that she failed to archive when a new, and more pathetic, whimper echoed throughout the room. And the finger was still midway when that happened. At least this time she didn’t let go of her cheeks.

“Ok, that’s all. Open your mouth.” If she was commanded to not make sounds why Nayeon now wanted her to open her mouth? That didn’t make any sense to Minjeong until she felt something soft pressed against her lips, something made of a thin laced fabric. Not just her mouth but her eyes were wide open when she realized that what Nayeon was trying to put inside her mouth to mute her was in fact, the pair of panties she was using today. The same pair she removed to allow Minjeong to eat her out. “For now if you're not answering one of my questions you're going to keep that in your mouth.”

This new punishment was really humiliating, maybe more than the others, and Minjeong was feeling sick for enjoying it. The used underwear inside her mouth as well as the two fingers going slow but relentless in the task of invading her rectum cavity have her leaking. Her dick was pressed against the edge of the desk, and that was the only relief she was having, but with every new centimeter on Nayeon’s fingers that went inside of her, her shaft throb as if it were alive.

But at least with the garment inside her mouth she was able to moan more freely, even when being honest the thong wasn't really big. It was just a small triangle with some laces, that actually didn’t cover much of her owner’s anatomy. The other good part was that at least the underwear wasn’t stinky. 

“Look who is being a good girl and is taking my fingers very well.” Nayeon giggles at her own words. “Move your head if you are ready to continue.” However, making fun of her, Professor Nayeon waited for the confirmation that her student was doing ok before making the next question. “ Ok so. What of this alkaline earth metal is located in period 3. Lithium, sodium, calcium, magnesium, or strontium?”

So far this was the hardest question, but Minjeong was sure she knew the answer. She was sure Nayeon talked about this one day that Yizhuo didn’t attend her class, that was why she was able to focus on what her professor was saying. So when the underwear was taken from her mouth she was ready to give an answer. 

“I’m sure is lih-” When she was mid sentence Nayeon, in a diabolical act, separated those fingers she had inside her student. Not enough to make her cry of pleasure but far enough to make Minjeong reconsider her answer. “ Magnesium, it is magnesium. I was just kidding.” She tried to justify herself, because she knew Nayeon helped her with this one.

Soon the used underwear was back in her mouth and Nayeon was separating her fingers once again, this time pushing them far away than the first time. Forcing Minjeong’s anal walls to adapt to this new dimension, preparing them for what was coming. 

When the professor decided that her student was ready patted her head before pushing a third finger inside her rectum. Another long digit slowly goes inside Minjeong, pushing her to her limit, spreading her ass wide open. The poor student never before has taken something as big as three of Nayeon's fingers together. They were slender, sure, but three at the time was still too much for Minjeong. 

Electricity was running through her spine as that third finger was invading her. The loud moans almost weren't contained by the underwear so Minjeong still had to press her lips together, putting all her strength on that and into maintaining her buttocks open so her professor could continue ruining her rear. 

Her poor hole was stretched to a new whole limit, and that has Minjeong's dick twitching and leaking more precum. At this point she was sure the desk had a big stain and maybe the carpet under her feet too.

Minjeong felt so pathetic exposed as she was, with her ass being stretched by her professor, and her small dick arching for some real friction. Not just the illusion that was the contact with the wooden surface but real action, like a hand wrapping around her length and stroking her until she exploded. Maybe if she's a good girl Nayeon would allow her to cum, who knows.

For her part Nayeon was enjoying this too. Her private parts were glistening again with her own arousal. Maybe having total control over her student was turning her on, or maybe how dangerous it was for her career to do that in her office. If someone sees her with her fingers buried inside a student that definitely would be the end for her, and that risk has her cunt throbbing with emotion.

Despiste those malicious rumors a jealous coworker spread about her some years ago, Nayeon never has done such a perverted thing as having sex in her office, much less with a student. Maybe one or two times she snuck a hand under her skirt to help her to deal with the stress of her work, but never was more than rubbing herself for a few minutes. This time with Minjeong was actually the first time she actually had an orgasm in her office.

Obviously Nayeon is a pervert, she never gonna try to deny that, otherwise why would she have three of her fingers buried as deep as she could inside her student’s butt? And obviously she has done some things like this in the past. But it has been so long since she actually had sex with someone, since the last time she had someone bending like that for her. She isn't a natural top, but being in charge does inexplicable things to her. The power of having someone surrendered over her, completely devoted to her, with their attention centered on what she’s doing, is so intoxicating that she’s feeling how her arousal is rising again. So when she saw an opportunity with Minjeong, she jumped at the chance.

“Are you good?” Despite taking advantage of her position Nayeon isn't a sadist, she has no intention of harming her student, just wanna ruin her a little and release some stress in the process. 

Obviously Minjeong couldn’t speak because of the garment in her mouth but she moved her head up and down in an energetic way to point out that she’s doing ok even with her ass being full of her professor’s fingers.

“Ok, then just two more questions.” Minjeong kinda panicked when she released that there are two more questions left, the same number of fingers that Nayeon hasn't put inside her yet. Is she going to fist her? That idea made Minjeong’s blood pressure rise to the sky, because there is no way another finger fits inside her, let alone a whole hand. But she didn't have time to think about it before her professor made the next question. “What is the approximate pH of a solution labeled 0.050 M HClO?”

“Hoomm iimm gamma kmmon?” Minjeong's voice was muffed by the underwear and only an unintelligible murmur was heard. At that, Nayeon removed the garment from her mouth.

“What? You have the solution that fast?” Nayeon was surprised that Minjeong had the answer so quickly, given that she wasn’t putting too much attention on her lectures. 

“No, but how am I supposed to know? I can’t do the math in my head?” How Nayeon rolled her eyes was imperceptible for the student, also was how the professor opened a drawer and took a small notebook and a pen from there. All she could see was when Nayeon tossed those things in front of her face.

“Ok, fine. You can let go of your buttocks and do the math, your ass is already open. But for god sake be quick.“

Minjeong never had been so fast to grab a piece of paper and a pen before, but this time she did it as if her life depended on that. After writing the first scribbles, she crossed them out with such force that she almost tore the paper. Now, more carefully, she started the calculations again, but she found it hard to concentrate with her ass so full. It was as if her rear was burning and protesting to come back to their original wrinkle form, not this madness of being stretched up like that.

For her luck Nayeon didn’t try to open her finger this time, or do any other trick. After all, the professor knew if she wasn't gagged, so any attempt to play with Minjeong would result in her student making noises that neither of them wanted to be heard outside the office.

“I… I have it.” Minjeong was sure this time after checking her answer a few times. “It is four point forty one.

“Who could imagine that you would know so much? Maybe I should do the same test to Yizhuo to find out if she learned something too.” The tone was playful, as if Nayeon were contemplating the idea of having Minjeong's classmate in the same position as her. Perhaps a fantasy too greedy. “Here comes your reward, so get this in your mouth again and relax…” 

Minjeong never knew what was the rest of the phrase because she tried to protest but the underwear was forced into her mouth again. With that all she could do was shut her eyes and press her lips tight waiting to feel another intrusion into her ass, expecting to feel how the four finger was forced into her already stuffed entrance. But that never came to happen because what Nayeon did was caress her scrotum and then grab her hard dick.

And involuntary shiver ran truth Minjeong’s entire body when she felt the touch over her balls, and what was yet the most pathetic whimper she had ever released, escaped from her mouth when Nayeon grabbed her dick. She was needing that touch so bad that almost came at the instant.

In fact Minjeong’s penis felt almost tiny between Nayeon’s fingers, a combination of her length and the fact that her professor had big hands. In any case Minjeong’s dick fit perfectly in the warm embrace of that hand, so perfect that her scrotum was receiving some stimulation too. Her dick and balls were at the complete mercy of her professor.

What came next had Minjeong whimpering as a little puppy, because Nayeon moved her hand three times, just three times. Giving but at the same time denying the long-awaited friction on her private parts. A motion perfectly calculated to torture Minjeong.

The poor student was ready to let all go and release her semen directly into her professor's hand, but as suddenly as the motion started, stopped a few seconds before. All that was given to her were just three pumps and nothing more. Something that made her very frustrated, and yearning for more.

“Huuughh! I just touched you and you already made a mess in my hand.” Minjeong was leaking so much precum that her professor could feel how her fingers were coated in the viscous and crystal clear fluid. 

Obviously Minjeong could not say sorry for that, but that doesn't stop her from feeling embarrassed. She was being so pathetic, completely folded over Nayeon's will, ready to serve her and for what? For just a few extra credits. At this point this was about something else, because Minjeong was feeling like she was giving too much for just passing a class, this wasn't an equivalent exchange. But once again that turned her more.

The feeling of her small dick completely covered by Nayeon's big hand, with her long and pretty fingers wrapped around her length, was intoxicating. For the other part the hand in her rear was feeling so good too, much more that she will ever be willing to admit. But how would she pretend that that isn't true if she was already leaking after the first finger went inside her?

Minjeong's world almost fell apart when that wonderful hand left her shaft. She thought it was going to be wrapped around her all the time.

“Time for the last question. Again you can do the math.” The student didn't notice that Nayeon made a pause to lick the precum out of her fingers,  she thought she was just being dramatic. “What is the volume of a 2.50 gram block of metal whose density is 6.72 grams per cubic centimeter?”

Fuck Yizhu for getting her on this trouble, was what came to Minjeong's mind when she heard the last question. She never has been good enough in math, and that was her less favorite part about chemistry. But now that was what was separating her from owning those damn extra credits and finally getting those fingers out of her butt, because notwithstanding that in fact that was very pleasant her sore sphincter was getting tired of being open like when a snake engulfed an egg.

“It is 0.372.” Was the answer she gave to Nayeon when the latest once again removed the used underwear from her mouth. This time took her longer to calculate it, but she was sure she was right at the first attempt. Maybe it was the urge for being touched again that made her focused on the given task.

“That's right. I'm impressed that you actually did it, and have to inform you that you have successfully passed this test and my class.” After all, she was able to put more than fingers inside Minjeong and actually made her learn a thing or two. That has to count for something, and Nayeon would have given her student a congratulatory clap if her hands weren't so busy.

“Thank you professor. Now can I- Aaanngghh!!” Of course Minjeong was a fool for thinking that that  was all, that Nayeon was going to release her just like that. Her professor separating her fingers was proof enough that she was wrong.

Nayeon didn't separate her finger too much, just a few millimeters, but that was enough to let her student know that they weren't done yet. And once again Minjeong was covering her mouth with her hands, she even put Nayeon's underwear back inside her mouth when she had the chance.

“Before you can go there is one last reward.” Nayeon's voice was calm, comforting in some way, but still could listen in there a glimpse of enjoyment. As if she were making fun of her student reactions. “Just be patient and cover your mouth.” This time was the whisper to her ear that made Minjeong shiver, how Nayeon pressed their bodies together to reach her and say that only for her, as if they were surrounded by a crowd and those worlds were meant only for her.

Everything started with a gentle touch on Minjeong's scrotum, just a caress over her balls, and then Nayeon's fingers slowly going down until they were wrapped over her hard shaft. 

The whimpers were not long in coming because poor Minjeong was so sensitive there that having her professor's fingers descending as snakes over her skin was already too much. The fingers inside her were warming her guts in a way that she never has felt before, and the ones on her shaft were sending jolts through her spine.

Her dick felt so small in the embrace of that hand, smaller that it actually is, perhaps embarrassing her or perhaps turning her on. Or maybe both at the same time, because Minjeong’s feeling were overwhelming even when Nayeon hasn't moved her hand yet again.

When the first movement happened Nayeon could easily hear her student's muffled moans. She was no longer whimpering but moaning, all with just one pump of her hand. By the time she reached a stable rhythm her hand was covered in Minjeong's precum. The girl was leaking so much that was making Nayeon's work easier. Her own leak was serving as lotion to masturbate her.

As if that wasn't enough the other hand was moving too, just that slowly, fucking Minjeong in the ass. Making a complete mess out of the poor student that came to this office just to ask for a few extra credits.

Her butt was sore. Stretched to its maximum for so many minutes, but the burning feeling was good. Lotion made Nayeon's task easier and as long as her professor didn't push too much inside her she was just feeling pleasure. The nerves endings inside her rectum where being more stimulated than ever before, so Nayeon could have easily made her student cum just by finger-fucking her ass. But that would have been too easy for her.

“God, you're so pathetic with your cute ass stretched and you small dick being milked.” Nayeon says just to assure the power she has over her student, and Minjeong couldn't defend herself because she was busy covering her mouth, and in fact she was feeling pathetic too. Also there was the thing that she had completely surrendered to her professor. What else could she do with a hand buried in her ass and another stroking her dick?

All that was left to her was moan and tremble while waves of pleasure were crushing inside her body. That hand in her shaft was making pervy wet sounds since it was completely coated in her precum, and the other hand has stopped but replaced the movement for being buried as far as it could.

Nayeon increased the rhythm of her strokes to a point that was unsustainable to her student, clearly attempting to make her reach her limit, and Minjeong once again did as she was told. Only that this time she wasn't told with words but actions.

The young student's final climax did not disappoint Nayeon. With shivers and moans, and contracting her rectum like crazy, Minjeong spilled her semen into her professor's hand. A lot more semen that one could imagine those small balls could store.

If Nayeon's hand was already coated in fluid now it was worse. But she didn't stop stroking, milking her student until the last drop of semen left her body. For Minjeong was a totally new experience because she was feeling how her dick was submerged in her own semen, and that was like floating in a viscous cloud.

The student was still covering her mouth, trying to not make any noise audible outside the office, when Nayeon pulled out her fingers. All at once and without saying anything. If Minjeong could have had another orgasm instantly, but her balls were already empty.

Having her asshole stretch was one thing, but the sudden absence of the fingers inside her left her anus yearning for more, in so short time she had already gotten used to the feeling of being full. But her ass was now empty and started to close slowly, remaining open for a few seconds in a very nasty and perverted way that Nayeon obviously admired and found cute.

Now it was the turn of the other hand to leave Minjeong's shaft. At the instant some drops of semen leaked to the floor and over the student's clothes that were around her ankles. Minjeong's dick still was covered in her semen and her ass was sore, but she was finally free from her professor's claws.

“You can clean yourself before leaving.” Nayeon said casually sitting on her chair, as if she hadn't just ruined her student’s rear. “There is my private bathroom. It's small but works.”

Minjeong was still catching her breath, still with the underwear in her mouth. The orgasm she just experienced was powerful enough to make her dizzy. Her dick was still twitching against the air, and her ass was sore until the point she was sure that she was going to have some trouble walking normally.

Trying to compose herself, the student lifted her clothes in an attempt to cover at least her thighs, since her crotch and butt were smeared with semen and lotion and she didn’t wanted to stain her underwear. Indeed her asshole made that task difficult and uncomfortable.

“Come on. I have other things to do.” The professor was cleaning her hands with the same wipes she cleaned her crotch before, and casually as if it were nothing she licked some rest of semen between her fingers. Minjeong wanted to say something but words didn't come out of her mouth, in part because she was still gagging with Nayeon’s underwear.

She just spat the garment out of her mouth and left it over the desk, covered in her saliva, maybe completely ruined. Ruined as she was, with her ass sore and her small dick now soft. And with that, without saying anything, Minjeong walked bow-legged, and with occasional whimpers due the soreness of her butt, to the small bathroom. To clean herself from the aftermath of the special test.

Minjeong swore to herself that she wouldn't get distracted in class again, and obviously, that she wouldn't listen to the gossip Yizhuo told her again. Never again.

[chrissssssmut]

One with Rosé

NO ESCAPE

Yandere Boss Rosé x Male

AN: Hope this one's good! Im currently writing the next request XD

You hated your job.

More specifically, you hated your boss, Park Chaeyoung—better known as Rosé.

She wasn’t just strict—she was ruthless. A tyrant wrapped in designer suits and a wicked smile, ruling over the office like a queen who knew no one would dare to oppose her. She had a special kind of enjoyment in tormenting her employees, but for some reason, you were her favorite target.

“You’re useless,” she’d scoff when you turned in paperwork with a minor mistake. “I should fire you, but where else would I get my entertainment?”

Meetings turned into hellish endurance tests, your name constantly being called out for blunders, some of which weren’t even yours. But you knew why she did it. She liked to see you squirm under her attention, liked the way your hands shook when she loomed over your desk, voice like silk but words sharp enough to cut.

And yet, you endured it. Until you didn’t.

The resignation letter sat on your desk for weeks before you finally had the courage to hand it in. You had expected her to mock you, to laugh in your face, maybe even throw it back at you. But instead, she simply smiled. A slow, knowing smile that sent a chill down your spine.

“You think you can leave?” she mused, twirling a pen between her fingers. “That’s cute.”

“I’ve already made my decision.” You kept your voice steady, despite the dread curling in your stomach.

Her smile didn’t waver. If anything, it grew. “We’ll see about that.”

You started skipping work.

At first, it was just a day. Then two. Then an entire week. No calls, no emails—nothing. You wanted her to get the message: you weren’t coming back.

Then, one night, there was a knock on your door.

Dread pooled in your stomach before you even opened it. And when you did, you wished you hadn’t.

Rosé stood there, silhouetted against the dim hallway light. She was smiling, but it wasn’t the usual condescending smirk. No, this one was different—sinister, dark, filled with something unhinged. Her eyes gleamed with a dangerous mix of amusement and rage.

“You’re avoiding me,” she said, voice almost sing-song, as if she was teasing a lover. “That’s not very nice.”

Your breath hitched. “I… I don’t work for you anymore.”

Rosé tilted her head, feigning confusion. Then, before you could react, she stepped forward, forcing you back into your own apartment as she shut the door behind her.

“You don’t get to leave me,” she whispered, her voice low, a warning wrapped in velvet.

You turned to flee, but she was faster. Her hand shot out, gripping your wrist tight enough to bruise. Panic surged through you as you struggled, but she was stronger than she looked, pinning you against the wall with terrifying ease.

“You’re mine,” she murmured, eyes gleaming with something possessive, something utterly terrifying. “And I don’t like it when my things try to run away.”

You shoved at her, desperation fueling your fight. “Get off me!”

She responded with a sharp slap across your face, the impact ringing through the room. Your vision blurred for a second, pain flaring along your cheek. Before you could recover, she grabbed your hair and yanked your head back, forcing you to look at her.

“You think you can just disappear?” she hissed. “After everything I’ve given you? After all the time I spent making you mine?”

Terror pulsed through your veins as she shoved you onto the floor, her heeled foot pressing onto your chest. She leaned down, fingers curling around your throat, squeezing just enough to make breathing difficult but not enough to knock you out.

“I could make this worse,” she whispered, her breath hot against your ear. “I could hurt you so much more, make you beg me to let you stay.”

You clawed at her grip, trying to push her away, but she only laughed, enjoying your struggle. She yanked you up by your collar, dragging you toward the bedroom. You thrashed wildly, but a sharp punch to your gut sent you collapsing onto the mattress, gasping for air.

“You’re not going anywhere,” she purred, straddling you, her nails digging into your jaw as she forced you to meet her gaze. “You belong to me.”

Tears welled in your eyes, fear overriding everything else.

“Please… just let me go,” you croaked.

Her lips curled into a smirk as she leaned in closer. “Say it,” she commanded. “Say you’ll come back.”

You hesitated, and she wrapped a hand around your throat again, tightening her grip until your vision swam.

“I’ll come back!” you choked out, gasping. “I’ll go back to work, I swear!”

She released you abruptly, watching as you crumpled into a coughing mess beneath her. Her fingers gently traced your bruised skin, a mockery of tenderness.

“Good boy,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple before standing up. “Be ready in the morning. I expect you at your desk.”

And just like that, she walked away, leaving you shaking, broken, and utterly hers.

The next morning, you were at your desk.

Your hands trembled slightly as you typed, the bruises on your wrist hidden under the sleeves of your shirt. The office bustled around you as if nothing had happened, as if the last night hadn’t left you shattered.

And then you felt it.

A gaze.

You looked up, and there she was—Rosé, standing across the office, watching you. Her lips curled into a slow, satisfied smirk, her eyes dark with a silent warning.

You knew what it meant.

You were stuck with her.

Forever.

[freakyformula]

pleaseeeee the honeymooners with lewis were soooo good 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 you wrote him beautifully 😩😩😩 write more for him please im begging you

Since you asked very nicely, I will oblige <333

Saviour

Summary: You were supposed to walk home when you ran into a group of men. When Lewis sees what they do to you he can't let it slip.

Warnings: Sexual assault, fluff, Lewis being a sweetheart (is that even a warning?!)

Word count: 3,4k

Now, where do I start?

I was on my way home from a friend's house late one night, it must have been past midnight, me and my friend had a lot to catch up on and time slipped through our fingers. The night was uncommonly calm for a Saturday night in Monaco. I was slightly drunk, me and my friend had a couple of glasses of wine earlier, but I was still able to find my way home, or so I thought.

As I slowly walk along the streets of Monte Carlo, running into a few tourists here and there, them being way more intoxicated than me, at least they acted like it, smashing bottles into the sidewalk and talking loudly, I come to a stop at a red light.

I look around, there's not a single soul in sight. The only thing I hear is the familiar clicking sound of the traffic light. The air was chilly, I certainly wasn't dressed for the night with my short dress and blazer.

I click my high heels as I wait for what feels like forever for the light to change. I look around, but there's not a car in sight, what the hell am I waiting for?

As the light changed to green, thank fuck; I was freezing, I start walking along a small street filled with small artisan ice cream shops, cafées, and vendors. This street was usually filled with people, drinking their sangrias, mingling, and laughing, but now, I was the only one walking along it.

I can almost see my apartment building when I hear a whistle behind me, making me freeze in my tracks. I slowly turn around, only to see three of the drunk men I'd run into before.

"Where do you think you're going, loca?" One of the Spaniards asks. "We don't bite, you know." Another one chips in.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen, but I'd really want to get home now." I try to argue but to no avail. The men walk behind me, catching up quicker than I can react. I would run, but my high heels won't let me, and the wine certainly doesn't help either. "Stop, we just want to talk to you!" The third man yells.

When I feel a hand on my shoulder, I turn to see the three men looking over me with hungry eyes. They're conversing in what I only can assume is Spanish. They smell like alcohol and tobacco, all of them standing almost slumped over on each other. I was sure I could outrun all of them if I wanted to, do I take the chance before this situation escalates? My body fails me, and I can't move an inch.

The grip on my shoulder tightens, and one of the men, the one in the middle, grasps my hand. "Don't worry, we will take care of you..." He whispers as the man to my left moves behind me, sandwiching me between him and the man holding my hand while the third man seems to keep watch for any witnesses to their actions. Their hands wander, and I'm ready to barf on them all. I'm revolted.

I go berserk when their hands land on my breasts. I scream, I kick, I do everything in my power to get out of their creeping hands.

"Shut up!" The men try to shush me and the one in front of me places his disgusting hand over my mouth with an annoyed expression on his face. "Naughty girl." He whispers. "And naughty girls deserve to be punished."

And with that; a blow to the side of my face, and I'm on the ground, gasping for air. The pain rapidly spreads to my head, and my hand flies up to protect it from any more damage. The iron taste in my mouth makes me cringe, and I look up at my assailants.

The men, chuckling and talking in their mother tongue, lean over me. "Come on, it wasn't that bad." One of them laughs, grabbing my arm and pulling me onto my knees.

I'm dizzy, and it feels like I'm going to be sick any second. Together, the men get me onto my feet. "Now, where were we?" One of the men whispers next to my ear, lips brushing against my neck. I feel disgust bubbling in my stomach.

"What do you say, she's got a nice ass huh?" The men discuss my body as if I'm not there. When I feel a slap on my buttock, I flinch, but I don't have the strength to fight their touches. I shut my eyes and disappeared somewhere else, somewhere far away. I feel one of them slipping his hand under my dress, but I'm frozen. I can't move, talk, or fight. I just let it happen. When the men pull my dress off, my hands fly up to cover myself.

"What the fuck is going on?!" I hear a distant voice yell, followed by barking.

Then, everything stops. No lingering touches, no whispers in my ear, nothing.

I couldn't believe it. I'm suddenly ten times lighter. Am I in heaven? I thought to myself.

"Hey hey, it's okay. You're safe." I heard someone say, it sounded like they were miles away, but I could feel their touch on your arm.

That voice. Surely I've ascended to heaven, but I didn't dare to have a peek.

"Are you okay, miss? Do you need an ambulance?" The voice asks.

I collapse on the hard stone pavement when I realise that the voice isn't one of the men. I felt the voice grabbing me violently as I was about to hit my head on the ground.

My head is slumped and my eyes are shut, still in that lovely place in my head that I adore so much. "Gosh, you're trembling!" The voice exclaims, and I feel something hot and heavy on my shoulders, something that feels like a coat.

"Please, talk to me." The voice asks of me while I feel his hands on my arms, rubbing them to keep me warm. The voice is soothing and angelic.

I feel myself coming back, my imaginary world slipping away from me no matter how hard I try to grasp it. When I feel someone licking my face, I'm abruptly thrown back into the real world. The owner of the tongue is small and certainly has a very large and wet tongue. The sensation makes me chuckle, I must say, and I dare to open my eyes just enough to see the bulldog in front of me.

"Okay, Roscoe, that's enough." The kind man says as he tries to hold the dog off my face.

"They..." I start, still in shock, sitting with my arms crossed in hopes of protecting myself.

"I saw what they did, you don't need to tell me." The stranger says.

I reach out for the dog, which happily accepts my scratches. When I look up, I see him sitting on his knees before me. Never in my life had I seen a man that gorgeous. I'm stuck in his eyes as he chuckles. "Can you stand up? You'll get sick sitting on the ground like this. Here is your dress if you want to put it on." The man reaches for the tossed dress and waits for me to grab it. He offers his hand to help me on my feet again.

I hesitated to accept his hand, but eventually, I reached for him and pulled myself up. My legs are wobbly and I almost fall over again, but the man holds me up with his strong arms. "Shhh, you okay?" He whispers.

"Y-yeah." You reply.

"I'm Lewis, and you are?" He offers me a handshake.

"I'm Y/N." I say as I grab his hand. His handshake was powerful, and his larger hand swallowed my hand.

"I-I'm sorry, for this." I quickly follow up.

Lewis stops in his tracks and locks his eyes with mine. "Y/N, none of this is your fault. You know that right?"

"I know but-"

"No... No but's."

I shut my mouth upon hearing that and Lewis looks down at me with warmth.

"Come here, I'll carry you." Lewis says as he picks me up and starts walking with Roscoe in close tow. His musky cologne made my heart flutter, and the sensation made me blush which he surely noticed. His arms felt like home, for lack of a better word, and his smile made my heart skip a beat.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"You'll see." Lewis quickly answers.

I lift my eyebrow, and he notices, followed by a sigh.

"Don't worry, we're going to my place. It's not far, I promise."

The thought of going to a stranger's place seemed stupid, but in my defence, I hit my head and blamed my lack of judgment on that.

As he carries me through the streets of Monaco, and we get to know each other, he smiles at me when we get to the topic of how we ended up in Monaco, of all places.

"Fate, really. I wasn't supposed to move here, but I was offered a job and took it without thinking it through." I explain.

Lewis is left silent and slows down as he processes my words.

"So... Now you're unhappy?" He asks.

"No. Not at all, I love it here, mostly anyway." I admit, and I give my head a rub, feeling a slight bump forming where I hit my head.

Lewis notices my change in mood, and stops. "You okay?" He asks, worry evident in his voice.

"Yeah, I think I hit my head harder than I first thought."

Lewis nods and speeds up his steps. "Let's get you something cold to put on that."

As we walk past one of the fancier apartment blocks, I audibly gasp at the cars parked outside. Lamborghini, Ferrari, Audi, Mercedes. "Why are we here?" I ask.

"Because this is where I live, Y/N."

What? This, is where he lived? I had so many questions. "Okay, Lewis, timeout! Let me down, please!" He does as I ask, the gentleman, despite his protests.

"Who are you?" I ask, expecting an honest answer.

"I'm Lewis Hamilton."

"Nice to meet you, Lewis Hamilton. Why do you bring me here?"

"This is where I live?" He says as if it's the most obvious thing in the universe.

"Okay... So, are you part of the mafia or something?" I chuckle, half joking.

Lewis lets out a laugh, and looks down at my smaller figure, "No, Y/N, I drive."

"Like taxis and stuff?" I ask, still not catching on.

Lewis blinks at me and continues. "No, I drive in Formula 1."

Now, I hadn't heard of his name before, but I definitely knew of Formula 1. Me and my family used to watch it when I was young. You know, the Schumacher vs Häkkinen era. I can feel my eyes becoming bigger and bigger as his words penetrate my mind.

"Formula 1?" I ask, needing confirmation.

"Formula 1." He nods.

"What the fuck, Lewis!" I can't help my heightened tone. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

Lewis's eyes are still glued on me; worry painted on his face, but still calm as a cucumber with his hand out in case I faint.

"Hello Florian, beautiful evening, is it not?" Lewis says to the doorman, as the man holds the door for us as we step inside the grand hall. I stop, just to take everything in, the marble floors, the handpainted paintings on the walls, and the huge crystal chandeliers.

"Come on, let's get you upstairs." Lewis says as he softly grabs my hand and leads me to the elevator. While we wait for it to come down, I bend down to scratch Roscoe, which he seems happy with as he leans into my touch. "He likes you." Lewis concludes and smiles at me as I look up at him. "He tends to be wary of strangers."

I hear a "ding" and the elevator doors open. Lewis leads me in with Roscoe following my footsteps, licking my bare leg as if he wants to comfort me.

"You okay?" He asks.

"Yes." I say, dragging out the "s". I smile at him to look more convincing, but in reality, it felt like I had been run over. I'm sure I looked a mess too, hence why he asked.

"Here we are." Lewis says and offers me his hand to take me to his entryway.

"I can walk just fine, you know that right?" I giggle.

"I don't take any risks." Lewis simply replies.

His keys clink as he pulls them out of his pocket and unlocks the door.

"Go ahead." He says as he ushers me into the hallway.

The smell of his apartment was expensive. I felt like I couldn't touch anything, as if I would contaminate the grandness of his space if I did. So I just stood there, like a proper fool.

"Please..." He chuckles. "Would you like something to drink? Perhaps some juice?"

I'm left in the hallway as Roscoe lazily walks in, and turns around to look at us. Lewis takes a few steps towards the kitchen and lends me his hand. "You're allowed to move, Y/N."

"I know, but..." I could feel myself blushing again. I felt so misplaced.

"Come on." He cheers me on, with a wide smile.

One step, two steps... My goal was his hand. After four steps, my hand landed in his, and he interlocked his fingers with mine.

I hadn't felt it before, surely because of the adrenaline, but now my body felt numb, and fatigue was quickly taking over.

When we make it out of the hallway, and into the main living room, that is connected to the kitchen, I can't help but gasp.

The room was spacious, and light. It seemed like the room was lit up even though it was in the middle of the night.

You weren't exactly surprised that a Formula 1 driver owned a penthouse, but in one of the fanciest districts in Monaco? This guy had to be really good.

"Lewis, which floor are we on?" I ask.

"We're on the top." He answers while he has his head in the fridge, looking for something for me to drink.

Sneaking forward on my tiptoes, I walk up to the huge window. "The view... Is phenomenal." I whisper to myself.

"Isn't it?" Lewis says, walking up from behind, with a glass of sparkling water in hand, making me smile and accepting the drink.

I take a sip and the water has a subtle taste of lemon. Refreshing. Lewis seems to take notice of how much I enjoy my drink and offers a refill.

As we stood at the window, looking over the Mediterranean sea, my eyes landed on something to our left. "Don't tell me you have a pool too?" I ask, feeling overwhelmed by how luxuriously this man lived.

"Of course." Lewis admits as he opens the doors to his terrace. "Come." He walks out, and the crisp air hits my skin as I walk out with him. I felt the cold cement against my sole when we walked further out towards the railing. There was a slight wind up here, but it wasn't chilly enough to make me cold, not with Lewis next to me.

As we are admiring the view, Roscoe walks out too, letting out a bark, demanding attention. Not from Lewis, but from me.

"Roscoe really likes you." Lewis says, rather flabbergasted, as he walks off. I follow his movements at the same time as I cuddle with Roscoe. His footsteps stop at the edge of the pool, and he turns around to face me, giving me a mischievous look, and jumps in with a loud "Woohoo!"

I slightly panic, thinking what the hell the man is up to, and Roscoe follows me to the edge, looking for him. The water was dark, and I couldn't see Lewis anywhere.

I bend over to see better and before I even get the chance to react, Lewis' hand is around mine, pulling me in with him. Roscoe is left at the edge, barking for us to come up to the surface again.

When I make it up above the water and gasp for air, Lewis laughs. "Sorry, I had to!" He says, holding his hands up in defeat.

I splash him with my hands, "I'm gonna kill you!" I giggle, before getting up. "You could've warned me, given me a chance to pull my dress off."

"There's no fun in that!" He says, him too climbing up.

We're both soaked and laughing at each other.

"How did we just meet? Feels like I've known you for longer than an hour." He asks.

His words silence me, not quite knowing what to answer. It was true, Lewis was fun, kind, and caring to me, and it felt like I had always known him.

"I-I don't know. Thank you, for saving me. I never thanked you."

"Don't worry about it, Y/N. Now, I'm sure you're tired..." He says as he walks up to me, grabbing my hand. "Would you like to spend the night?"

I was confused, what did his words mean, exactly? "What do you mean?"

"Oh... I didn't mean it like that. You can sleep in my bed and I'll take the sofa." He quickly chips in.

"Oh! Yeah, okay." I nod, sleeping over seemed like a good idea? Right?

"Let's get you something dry to wear, come on." Lewis says as he rubs your arms.

Your clothes are soaked and heavy when you walk up to his bedroom, and Lewis opens his walk in closet, inviting me inside too. "Tee and sweatpants? How does that sound to you?"

"Sounds perfect." I smile at him and look down when our gazes meet. When he hands over the outfit he put together, I look up at him, not sure of what to say. "Lewis... This is Gucci."

"Exactly." He says as he closes the closet doors, and that was the end of that discussion.

Lewis is left standing there, not quite sure of what to say or do next. "Would you like to take a shower, or?" He asks.

"I would like that." I admit, and with that, Lewis escorts me to his personal bathroom. "I-I'll leave you to it, feel free to come down if you need something."

I nod, and watch as Lewis leaves the bathroom and closes the door. The warm water hitting my body felt like heaven in contrast to the chilly water outside. I could really do with a warm hug right now, I think.

When I'm clean, thanks to his body scrubs and schampoos, I dress into his clothes, and hop into his bed. The sheets smell of him. I take an extra whiff before I get up again. As I walk down the stairs, I see Lewis lying on the sofa, cuddled up next to Roscoe.

"Lewis?" I whimper.

My call makes him instantly open his eyes and jump up from the sofa. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"Nothing, nothing... I just-" I start, not getting another word out before tears flood my eyes. "Oh, Y/N..." He whispers, and pulls me into his arms, hugging me tightly. We stay like that for, I don't know, 5 minutes? Him just holding me as I sob my heart out.

When we part, Lewis leads me to the sofa to sit down. "Talk to me, Y/N."

I couldn't find the words. No matter how hard I tried.

"I..." I started. "I was thinking of how badly things could have gone if you didn't save me." I look at him with an appreciative look.

"I know, trust me, I know. But things went well, and I'm here now. You're safe." He whispers in my ear. I close my eyes as he pulls me in again, and I end up essentially lying on top of him on his sofa.

When I open my eyes, I'm confused about waking up in a bed instead of a sofa. And there was no Lewis either, or Roscoe, for that matter.

I walk down the stairs, and as the Monaco sun hits my eyes, I see Lewis in the kitchen, at the stove. "Good morning, Y/N. Sleep well?" He asks as he turns a vegan pancake in the pan.

"Morning." I say as I walk up to him, stretching my body. "Slept like a baby."

"Good. Breakfast?" He asks with a grin and a wink.

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Great Balls Of Fire

Bradley Bradshaw x fem!reader 9k words (ik. i did it again. im sorry)

summary: It’s been four months since you last saw Bradley Bradshaw. Today's the day he finally comes back from his mission and you have more than one ace up your sleeve to surprise him with.

a/n: smut ahead. 18+ im serious theres smut theres a lot of smut. okay. as usual i will now list everything you may have to look out for

fancy ass lingerie, oral sex fem!receiving, unprotected sex (dont be like them, just know theyre in a committed relationship theyve had the talk and all), a lot of begging, hair pulling, good girl's because yes, in general again bradley is a talker, otherwise that's it

top gun masterlist

It had been so long. It had been too long.

With the sun beating down hard on the pavement of the parking lot, the sunglasses on your nose doing their hardest to protect your eyes from the worst of the light, the sound of your heels clicking against solid ground as you took a few steps into the shade of the tree next to Bradley's Bronco. You had been waiting for ten minutes now, checking your phone what seemed like every five seconds, too nervous to actually pay attention to it but too nervous to keep calm either.

You had been so scared you would crash into a grandma on the way over here that you had honestly considered taking your own car instead of the Bronco - but Bradley had trusted you with it, had trusted you to keep his lady running, you, even though he never let anyone else as much as touch the steering wheel, and you would be damned if you didn't pick him up in it.

You hadn't seen him in four months. Four months.

You had been by yourself, had been on your own, had been lonely for four fucking months.

But today was the day you would see him again. Today was the day his oh-so-secret mission would finally, truly come to an end, the day that you would finally, truly see him again. Not over some low-quality video call in the middle of the night, with only your kitchen lights on in the background and your mind hazy and tired because he was nine hours ahead of you and seemed to be at the other end of the world - no, today you would finally, finally, finally see him in the flesh.

You'd been anticipating this moment for the past four months.

So this had to be perfect.

This would be perfect.

You had done everything possible to make this the most perfect day of his goddamn life. You had spent the last four months moving things from the old apartment to the new house - those things that you and him hadn't already moved anyway - and the past week, you'd been cleaning, decorating, anticipating.

He had told you so often how much he missed you. How much he wished he had been there for you, to help you pack the things, to help you take them apart and put them back together, to do more than just the paperwork and set up the bed and the couch.

But he couldn't. And now you were bubbling with nervous excitement, with the joy of sharing all of it with him, to show him the desk you'd put up in the bedroom, the pillows you'd bought for the couch, the paintings you'd hung up on the walls, the kitchen table you'd replaced, the kitchen tiles you'd painted. To show him how much better this new home was than the old apartment had been (even though you'd been very happy there for the past four years as well).

And Bradley would love it. You were sure of that.

You just wanted him to see it so desperately.

You looked up as another car approached - it wasn't Bradley, you knew that, Bradley would come out of that door opposite you, not out of a car, but... There was still some tiny little sliver of hope, the same way there had been every single goddamn time someone had rung your doorbell. It had only ever been the postman or your food.

The car stopped next to you. You watched the engine being turned off and the driver get out because, well, what else was there to do except nervously shift your weight from one leg onto the other and go insane?

So you watched the stranger hop out of their car, nodded politely at them and then refocused your attention on the tips of your sandals. At least you weren't the only one waiting here anymore.

You got out your phone again, checked the time (it'd been a minute and a half since you'd last looked at it) and let out a sigh.

It wasn't that Bradley was late. There wasn't really a "late" anyway, he'd only been able to give you a vague time he'd arrive on, but still. You'd been buzzing with nervous energy for over a week.

You took a deep breath to steady yourself, wiped your sweaty palms off on the sundress you'd put on - the tiny yellow sundress that Bradley had picked out for you on your birthday last year. The tiny yellow sundress that hid the sinful white lingerie under it just perfectly. The sinful white lingerie that you had bought for this very moment.

Bradley would go feral for it, you knew that. He loved white. You thought it was because it looked innocent, chaste. Like something untainted, something waiting to be ruined. Not that you minded. One day, he had promised himself, he would admit to you that it was because it looked like something you would wear on your wedding night.

But either way, you had gone shopping for the perfect set of lingerie and you were more than happy with your final choice.

Bradley could unwrap you like a present. You were desperately hoping he would unwrap you like a present.

You had spent the last four months not doing anything other than hoping. Imagining. Remembering.

So you weren't surprised that you felt like you'd soaked through those pretty (and expensive) panties already.

Your breath hitched. You shifted your weight again.

Bradley would carry you in his big, strong arms over the doorstep, would push you against the wall, would take everything he wanted from you and give everything you needed - he'd pull your dress right off and, at the sight of your lingerie, would fuck you raw.

You had to bite down on your lip to keep you grounded. Four months away had been a long, long time. Four months in which you'd only had yourself, your fingers, your vibrator to keep you company - four months in which you'd only heard Bradley's moans spill over the phone, had only heard him call you honey and good girl through a low-quality mic, had only seen him on pictures he'd left you, on a tiny screen at best.

You were depraved. And pretty sure you'd fall apart at the first touch.

You were so immersed in your thoughts, in that lovely imagery you had created in your head, that you almost missed the door opening. Finally. Finally. You straightened up at once.

It wasn't Bradley who stepped out first - it was one of his colleagues, you guessed, with blonde hair and much shorter - but it was Bradley who stepped out second. You'd know him from miles away.

He strode out of the door and into the sunlight, all familiar brown curls and broad shoulders and Ray-Bans on his nose and an Hawaiian shirt on and his bag lazily slung over his shoulder and that moustache - by god you'd have killed him if he'd shaved that off!

He turned his head and looked at you and a grin broke out on your lips, so wide, so incredibly wide that it felt like it'd split your face in half and before you could think, before you could form any coherent thought you were already moving, your legs with a mind of their own. You were sprinting towards him. Sprinting all through the parking lot, your heels click-clicking on the pavement, and Bradley grinned, grinned and let his bag fall to the ground carelessly, opened his arms instead. Wide, so wide. He was so tall. So broad. So inviting as you ran at him, as you jumped at him, as you wrapped your arms and your legs around him at the same time, as he caught you effortlessly, as your lips landed on his.

As you crashed into him, completely, and he didn't even stagger an inch back.

You had missed four months of this.

And now his lips were on yours. Your legs around his waist. Your arms crossed behind his neck. His breath against your mouth. His lips parted. His tongue against yours.

You were desperate. And you could feel just how desperate he was, too.

You could feel all the passion, all the fiery, red passion, all the force and firmness put into this kiss as his tongue ran along yours, as your breaths met and mingled, as his hands dug into your thighs to keep you upright, to keep you snug to him.

You pulled back incredibly reluctantly. You didn't want to let go of him. You never wanted to let go of him ever again. You wanted to have him, all of him, right here, right now, and then for eternity. But you couldn't, you couldn't because this was the middle of the parking lot, and also because you at least wanted to say hello first.

So you blinked open your eyes and took him in and allowed yourself to grin as broad and as wide as you needed to right now.

"You're back", you whispered, just because that realisation still had to sink in. "You're really back."

Bradley nuzzled your nose with his and let out a hum - god, how you'd missed him. The feel of him, the sound of him.

"Yeah, I'm here, honey", he muttered, that smile of his dripping down onto his voice. "I'm here and I won't leave any time soon."

You couldn't help but lean in again, couldn't help but capture his lips again because how else, how on earth would you let him feel all the joy you were experiencing right now? You didn't even know if you could actually feel all of it. You definitely wouldn't be able to put it into words. So you dug your teeth into his bottom lip and sighed into him and pulled him closer, closer and closer, even further into you.

"I missed you", you breathed against his mouth. "I love you and I missed you, Bradley."

He chuckled, kissed you again, drew back just enough to still touch you somehow, to still have his lips on your skin somehow and be able to talk at the same time.

"I love you so much, honey", he muttered. "And I missed you so much."

And then his lips were on yours again, his fingers digging even harder into your thighs, his breath and his tongue and his moustache scratching against your skin and you moaned, because there was no more anything you could possibly have done, because you couldn't help yourself, because you couldn't stop yourself, because you didn't want to either. You wanted to let him know just how goddamn fucking much you'd missed him.

Bradley had to bite back a laugh, pulled back and looked at you through his sunglasses.

"Sounds like we should get home, honey", he said, his eyebrows raised and his smile deepening with every word. "Been waiting for that for four months."

You let out another soft moan, pushed yourself even closer to him, dug one hand into the back of his hair and scratched the other down his shoulders, down his shirt. You wanted to feel him. All of him. God, the ride home would take ten minutes. Ten minutes. How were you supposed to survive that?

"Please", you whispered onto his lips, and you didn't think you had ever meant it as much as you did now.

Bradley groaned and kissed you again, quickly, heatedly, his tongue running along your bottom lip and then pulling back again. This wasn't enough. This wasn't enough.

He set you down on the pavement again softly, your legs a bit wobbly, unsteady, and trailed one hand from your thigh to your back - anything to keep touching you as he bent down to pick up his bag again. You smiled up at him, smoothed down the front of your dress and beamed as his eyes traveled down your body.

When they snapped back up to catch your gaze, the grin on his face had turned into a much more intense expression.

"You look gorgeous, honey", he muttered, tugging you further into his side, letting his eyes drop down to your chest again. You had to bite down on your lip to keep from jumping at him right this second. He should not have been allowed to just look at you if you couldn't have him touch you too. "Did you pick out new nail polish just for this dress?"

Your grin broadened. Of course he'd notice. Bradley Bradshaw was the only man in the whole universe who would notice. And he was yours.

"Yes, I did", you smiled, looking up at him as he walked with you back to the car. He hummed softly.

"It works great together", he said. Your breath hitched. He was gorgeous and he was here and he had noticed your nail polish. He was perfect. And you wanted him to fuck your brains out. "Reminds me of your burgundy silk dress."

You had to bite down on your lip again - god, you hadn't done that nearly as often when he'd been away! - to keep yourself grounded and to keep your grin in check before it could truly split your face in half.

Your burgundy silk dress was the one you'd worn to Penny and Mav's wedding two years ago that you had spent three weeks hunting down matching lipstick and matching nail polish for. Bradley had worn that lipstick on the base of his cock for most of the night.

"You're incredible, do you know that?", you asked, your voice a bit breathy. Bradley stopped in front of the Bronco, turned to you and pulled you close again. You brought your hands up to his chest.

"I've been told", he muttered, tilted his head down to look at you and then leaned down even further to brush a kiss to your nose. "Open up the Bronco so I can put my bag in the trunk?"

You let your eyes flutter close for just a tiny little moment (he was close, so close and you would literally die if he didn't start touching you any time soon) and breathed in as Bradley chuckled. You'd put the key in your pocket and were scrambling to get it out now, taking one, two seconds too long before you heard the familiar click of the car unlocking.

"Thanks, pretty girl", Bradley mumbled, letting go of you to pull open the trunk and you had to push down a sigh of disappointment, even as anticipation rose up in your stomach. You hadn't heard him call you pretty girl in months.

When he turned back around to you, you were still frozen in spot, still smiling dumbly at him, still waiting for him to touch you, to kiss you, to fuck you. He smiled back and you knew that he knew just what you were thinking. But you couldn't even begin to care. You wanted to get him home as quickly as possible.

"You need to stop looking at me like that, honey", he said, his voice an octave deeper and you just so managed not to let another dumb, pathetic moan slip. He closed the trunk and took a step back to you. "You know I can't help myself when you look at me like that."

At that, you did let the moan tumble from your lips after all.

He'd been away for four months. And he was looking at you with his eyes all dark and his jaw clenched and his chest rising and falling heavily. How on earth were you supposed to be normal about this? You were falling apart already and he hadn't even got you home. Four months had been a long, long time.

His hands were on your waist then, forcing you against the side of the bronco, the door handle digging into your back, the metal warmed up by the sun and your arms crossing behind his neck as his body crowded yours, one leg between yours and no more space to touch, to feel, to see anything that wasn't him - he turned his head to check if the other car had driven away and then his lips were on yours, his knee pressing against your centre.

"Bradley", you moaned into his mouth, before his tongue brushed yours and rendered you speechless. You rocked against his knee, bare skin against your thighs and you wanted to sob, you really actually wanted to sob, because this was the most contact you'd gotten in four fucking months.

Bradley pulled back an inch.

"You're soaked", he groaned against your lips, his breath on your skin, his hands on your waist and you thrust your head back against the car, against the window, squeezed your eyes shut, kept on rocking against his knee.

"I know", you whined. "Been soaked for months."

Bradley let out another groan and pulled back, pulled away from you and you whimpered, blinking your eyes open again because you'd been so close to finally getting what you wanted and now he was taking that right away from you again. You looked up at him and the only reason you didn't straight up voice your disappointment was that he looked just as debauched as you felt - running his hands through his hair, running them over his face, his curls all messed up and a considerable bulge already visible in his jeans.

"Get in the car", he rasped, taking another step back from you as though he had to physically put distance between the two of you so he wouldn't give in and take you right in this parking lot. Not that you would've minded. That other car was long gone. But that he had to restrain himself so much, that he looked so positively exhausted, that his voice was so hard and so rough and so raw, that he had already, so easily begun giving you orders drove you crazy. Orders that you knew you had to follow because this was him, this was Bradley, and if he wanted something from you.... he'd get it. You'd give it to him no matter what. You'd give him everything.

So you pushed yourself off the car with a hard breath and trailed around to the passenger side, keeping your eyes on the ground even as you heard Bradley shuffle and open the driver's door because you knew that if you looked at him, no matter how much you wanted to follow his commands, there was a high chance you wouldn't be able to help yourself.

It wouldn't be the first time.

The seat felt hot and your skin sticked to it immediately and you would have cared in any other situation, but not in this one. Not when Bradley put his hand to your thigh, to your bare skin, to just below the hem of your dress. You could have cried.

He was here, finally, and he was touching you, finally, but he wasn't touching you enough, not nearly enough. This would be a long ten minutes. You pushed your sunglasses up into your hair, turned your head and rested it against the head rest, smiling at the image before you - Bradley in the driver's seat of his Bronco, the steering wheel in one hand, the sun on his face, his curls longer than when you'd last seen them. Had he got more tan? Was that possible?

God, how you'd missed this man.

And he was here now, here, next to you, with one hand on your thigh and a grin playing on his lips and you couldn't help but smile. Big and broad and all-consuming because he was here again, this man that you called yours, he was right here next to you after four months. You loved him. You'd missed him so incredibly much.

His hand moved a little higher up on your thigh, his thumbs brushing, stroking over exposed skin, raising up your dress the slightest bit. Your breath hitched.

"Bradley-", you sighed, jaw clenching as you melted, melted at every little touch because you didn't have to only remember it anymore. You could just push up into him, watch him, breathe in his familiar scent, run your fingers along his arm. This was no more imagining, no more picturing, this was real, this was happening.

"God, I missed you saying my name like that", he groaned, tightening his grip on your thigh and you bit down on your lip, wrapped your fingers around his biceps, his wrist, forced yourself to keep your eyes open so you could keep watching him. You wouldn't miss out on a single second of watching him.

"Bradley", you repeated softly. "I'll say your name as often as you want me to."

His fingers dug even harder into your thigh as he let out some strangled sounding moan.

"You're gonna be the death of me", he muttered - how often you'd thought the same about him! "I'm lucky if I can hold out these ten minutes."

You watched him quietly for a second. You could sense the heat radiating off of him, could see his clenched jaw, could feel his deathgrip on your thigh, could hardly ignore the blazing arousal in your own veins. But if he'd wanted to fuck you in the back of his Bronco, he would've. (As picky as he was about who drove his car, he'd never had a single problem railing you into oblivion in the backseat.) There was a reason he was holding out. You could only guess that he wanted to do this properly - with time and room and no risk of getting caught by the authorities. Should you have minded? Should you have begged him to take you as quickly as possible? You were sure he would have, if you'd pleaded prettily enough. But you were quite alright with time and room and no risk of getting caught. At least for right now. The both of you would manage a ten minute ride, right? You had managed four months. Ten minutes were nothing in comparison.

"Okay", you said, trailed your fingers down to his and intertwined your hands. "I'll help. I'll tell you something. Distract you."

"You can try, honey", he chuckled, sneaked a quick sideways glance at you. "Tell me about the house."

You lit up at that. You had been dying to tell him about the house. So you pushed your arousal deep, deep down (which was easier said than done) and smiled up at him.

"I don't even know where to start", you said honestly, giving yourself a second to think about it. You had ten minutes, after all. And you had to fill them all if you wanted both of you to survive this drive.

So you told him about everything.

The short version, of course.

He'd heard some of it over the phone already, but he hadn't been able to call often and you'd spent most of your time crying and telling him how much you loved and missed him when he had answered, so...

The ten minutes went by more easily this way. You went on and on and on and on about the house, his fingers between yours, your eyes locked on his, with the occasional comment about how sorry he was that he hadn't been there to help. It had been unfortunate, of course, but at the same time it had given you something to put all your time and effort into, which had greatly helped you through his deployment. Plus, there had always been help when you had needed it - Penny and Amelia and Mav, Phoenix and Bob and Jake. The rest of the squad had been scattered, called off to their own missions, but those six you had been able to count on whenever.

Bradley's hand on your thigh was still highly distracting. He moved it up and down a few times, and each time your breath hitched, each time you stumbled over your own words, each time he grinned again.

At one point, his fingertips brushed so close to your underwear that you pushed his hand forcefully back down to your knee. He had been the one so worried he wouldn't manage a ten minute ride and now he was the one teasing you.

Not that you really minded.

But you truly felt like going insane.

Then, finally! you caught sight of your driveway. Bradley was out of the car the second he'd parked it, pulling his hand from your thigh and the key out of the ignition and you had barely unbuckled yourself when he was already opening your door, taking your hand and tugging you out, sending you stumbling into him, into his arms.

He pressed his lips to yours as he pushed the door close, pushed you up against it again, pushed the hem of your dress up to grasp at your bare thigh. You wrapped your arms around his neck, forced him even closer.

"Bradley", you gasped softly. You hadn't moaned his name like that in four months, you'd do it so often today he would get tired of it. Even though you knew that he wouldn't, of course - he would never get tired of you whispering his name into his mouth, into the nothingness of an empty room, into his ear, into the pillows.

He didn't pull back from you, even as he took a slow, careful step away - making sure you'd catch on, making sure you'd follow, making sure to keep you safely, steadily against him. Not that you'd have done anything else. You trusted him with your life, you would trust him to keep you upright. So you did just what he wanted, followed, stumbled with him, eyes closed, lips on his, fingers brushing along his shoulders.

He did pull back then - just an inch or two, to turn you around, to look over your shoulder once, to tear his hand from your thigh and wrap his arms around you instead. And then his lips were back on yours again and his tongue running along yours. He pushed and you followed his wordless command, your legs working quicker than your mind, stumbling, tripping backwards, backwards, backwards and you barely cared, barely even acknowledged the ground beneath your feet because you were wrapped up in his arms, because you were tugging at his curls, because he was here, kissing you, finally.

You weren't needy.

You were desperate. You were depraved, frantic, starved. He was the air you needed to breathe and you hadn't taken a single breath in the past four months.

So you weren't pretending in the way you pulled him close, closer, closer, or in the frenzied way you kissed him, or in the desperate way you sighed, groaned, moaned against him, into him. You needed him. You needed more of him. All of him. You needed to get inside so you could have him.

You bumped into the door then, just short of digging the doorknob into your spine - Bradley pushed you right up against it and you gasped into his mouth, into the kiss. He crowded you against the door much like he'd crowded you against the Bronco, pulling his arms from around you to grasp your waist instead, to press your hips up to the door as well, and used one hand to fumble for the keyhole. He did so blindly, with his eyes still closed, his lips still on yours, with one of your legs coming up to wrap around his hips, your heels digging into his shorts.

Needless to say, he needed quite some time to turn the key.

You didn't mind. Not in the slightest.

You were making out with Bradley Bradshaw right on the doorstep of the house you shared with him, in the bright afternoon sunlight and truly, you couldn't have minded less. You didn't give two fucks about any of your neighbours or any passerbys spotting you - should they, by god! Bradley had come home from deployment after four months, you would make out with him on your doorstep for as long as you wanted to. You wouldn't ever stop making out with him ever again.

Not when he was here again, in your arms, with your fingers tugging at his hair, brushing along his neck, stroking along the collar of his shirt, sweeping along his shoulders. Not with your leg around his hips. Not with your lips on his. Not with anticipation, with arousal in every fibre of your body, of your soul. You were going mad with it. You were getting drunk on it.

You were euphoric when Bradley finally opened the gods damned front door.

He kept you safe and steady even as the support at your back broke away, as you almost crashed onto the floor of your own hallway. He walked you back into the pleasant cold and for once, for the first and probably the only time, you were the one to break away. You gave yourself a second to catch your breath. Then you pushed off of him completely. You took a step away, pulled the key from the door, pushed it close and when you turned back around, Bradley had set his sunglasses down on the little table you had put next to the coat rack a few weeks ago.

And you looked him in the eyes for the first time in four months.

He motioned at the table.

"Looks great, honey", he said, his voice a little too rough to sound quite normal. "Nice touch."

You shook your head softly.

"I couldn't care less about the table right now", you muttered, and with that, you were on him again. Actually, truly, fully on him again. You pushed yourself right up onto him, into him, pried his shirt off his shoulders, off his arms, let it drop down to the ground and then reached for his jaw to drag him further down, to deepen the kiss even if you knew that was impossible. So you bit down on his lip and allowed him to finally push your dress up over your hips, over your chest, over your head - you had to let go of him for a moment then, had to pull away from him so he could drop your dress on the floor and before you could even come close to reaching out for him again, he was taking a step back.

You could feel his eyes raking down your body. You could feel him taking in the white lingerie on your skin - the strings of the thong high up on your hips, intricate lace around your waist, the small bow right in the centre of it, the bra cups almost transparent, the floral white pattern covering up your nipples, the other few, small bows sown onto the straps.

You sucked in a breath at the look on his face. You hadn't seen that look in far too long.

"God, honey", Bradley groaned, reached for your waist, brushed his thumbs along the lace, ran his fingertips along the lingerie. You bit down on your lip as he pulled you, slowly, carefully, into him - gave you enough time to rest your hands on his chest, your palms against his tank top. "You look sinful. Did you buy that just for me?"

You nodded, swallowed.

"Just for you", you admitted. "Wanted to surprise you."

Bradley tugged you another inch closer, so close that your chest bumped into his, your breasts pressing against him. He let out a hum, his eyes dropping down to your cleavage.

"You did that, pretty girl", he muttered, his fingers digging into your sides. "You're incredible."

Then his lips were on yours again and you were melting, becoming putty in his hands, turning to goo in his arms. Your breaths met, lips parted. You couldn't quite believe you were finally touching him again.

He walked you back to the bedroom, narrowly avoiding the doorway, his hands on your hips, his fingers digging into your bum. You reached for the hem of his shirt, forced him to stop right on the threshold so you could get rid of it - get rid of that one layer of fabric still in the way. You drew back for a second to pull it over his head, to drop it to the floor, to let your eyes travel all over his bare torso.

God, how you'd missed this man and his broad shoulders and his washboard abs. How you'd missed his touch and the sound of his voice.

"Bradley", you gasped softly, your fingertips trailing over his naked skin, down to his shorts. "I need you."

He let out a groan.

"I've waited four months for you to say that again", he muttered. You could hardly take another breath before he was on you again - lips on yours and hands on your hips and your back hit the bed a moment later, the cushy mattress, the fluffy pillows softening your fall.

You raised yourself up onto your elbows so you could watch him as he stood in front of your bed, the sunlight dripping down him like drops of water hitting the floorboards, his torso bare, his curls messed up, looking down at you with a heaving chest, his fingers on his belt, unhooking it, opening the button on his jeans, pulling down his zipper - you swallowed hard as you watched him drop his shorts on the floor, step out of his shoes.

A whine rolled off your tongue.

"Bradley, hurry up", you whimpered, your fingers cramping in the sheets, your legs pressing together all of their own accord, trying to get some kind of friction as he undressed himself in slow motion while you just lay there, your panties long soaked through and your fingers itching to trail down your own body.

Bradley chuckled.

"Don't worry, honey", he muttered, kneeling down on the ground to drop kisses to your calves before pulling off your sandals. "I'll make sure you forget about the past four months, alright?"

Your breath hitched as your heels hit the ground.

"Please", you begged softly. "I've missed you so much."

He wrapped his hands around your hips, pulled you to the edge of the bed - his breath ghosting over your underwear, over that tiny white piece of lingerie you had bought for him, for him to take you apart in. His fingers dug into your skin, spread out wide, to touch as much of you as he possibly could. He pressed a kiss right to that wet spot on your thong.

You let out a moan. God, how had you survived four months without him? You were barely surviving fifteen minutes of not having him fuck you.

Bradley grinned, raised his head to meet your eyes and seriously, you were close. Too close. He hadn't touched you yet, not really. You'd die today, you were sure, die and go to heaven.

"You look almost too good to undress, honey", he muttered, brushing his thumbs below that lace around your waist, not making a move to pull it down your legs.

"Bradley, please", you whined, your hands brushing over your own chest, running over your bra cups, tracing the flowers, desperately holding back from just ripping everything off yourself, pushing him onto his knees and riding him into oblivion. "Don't tease. I need you."

He groaned into the skin of your thigh.

"Anything you want, honey", he muttered - and then your thong was gone and he was burying his tongue inside you, dipping, tracing, licking, circling your clit, breathing you in, devouring you. Taking and giving everything. It had been four months since he'd had you like this and he wanted everything, every inch of you he could get. He wanted to taste you, every last drop of you, wanted to eat you out until you couldn't think anymore, until you had truly, fully forgotten all the time he had been away, all the time you had been forced to be on your own, alone.

You thrashed, moaned above him - your fingers clenching around your bra, brushing over your nipples. You were close. Close after the entirety of three seconds, close to tears, close to coming.

"Bradley", you choked out, tearing your hands off yourself, burying them in his hair instead - tugging him off, tugging him away from you. You took a deep breath as he let go of you, as he loosened his grip on you, looked up at you with desperation in his eyes.

"I need you to fuck me", you whimpered, already too sensitive, too tense. "I need you inside me."

You hadn't had him in four months.

Four months had been enough goddamn foreplay. As much as you loved when he ate you out, you needed him, you needed his cock, you needed to feel him inside you, you needed him to take you apart and make up for all the time lost.

Bradley nodded, nodded because he knew, he understood - he saw the frantic look in your eyes, had felt the desperate drag of your hands at his clothes, his arms, his shoulders, his hair. He'd give anything to you. Everything. He would do whatever you wanted of him.

Maybe in another situation he'd have made you beg more, would have teased you more, would have edged you a few times. Maybe in another situation. But not in this one. Not after four months of being away from you, not when you were so beautifully, so desperately spread out beneath him, looking up at him with wide eyes and rosy cheeks, your lip pulled between your teeth, your gorgeous white lingerie still concealing too much of your skin.

As he'd said, you were almost too gorgeous to undress. But just almost.

So he rose up from the ground, pulled you up with him, pulled you in, his fingers brushing along your sides, your spine, your bra clasp. He let it fall open. You worked fast, worked your bra down your arms and off your hands and drew back from him to fling it against the wall and lay down on the bed, lay down all pretty and waiting.

You needed him to fuck you. Now.

He let out a groan, closed his eyes. The look on his face had you pressing your legs together again. Wetness was coating the inside of your thighs now. It glistened on his moustache. And you were sure you could have tasted it on his tongue too.

He was making you go insane.

"How do you want me, pretty girl?", he asked, pressing his knees into the side of the mattress. "Tell me how and I'll do whatever you want."

Your breath hitched in your throat. Your nerves were bubbling up. Four months. You'd waited four months for this one question.

"Behind", you whined. "Need you from behind."

Bradley had known, of course, because that was what you always said when he stood at the front of your bed and asked you this question. His hands were on your waist, grasping, grabbing, turning you over before you had fully finished speaking, your cheek pressed against the pillows, your breath coming short and shorter, adrenaline pumping through every single one of your veins. You felt hot and sticky and needy and nervous.

Nervous because Bradley stilled.

Nervous because he sucked in a sharp breath.

Nervous, even though you had been here a million times before, in his bed and in yours, bent over desks and bars and couches, with the heat of him behind you, arousal flowing through your body like oxygen, anticipation clouding your mind.

"Shit, honey", Bradley breathed.

You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw.

How you'd have loved to see his expression. But you had known you wouldn't. You had prepared yourself to be satisfied with the sound of his voice, with the feel of him so close to you.

"Shit", Bradley repeated. He took another deep breath in. "You got a tattoo?"

A tattoo.

Your tattoo.

You nodded into the pillow, scraped your cheek against the fabric, so eager, so quick to agree. Four months you had waited for this. Four months since you had begun planning this - the very day after he'd left, in a conversation with none other than Phoenix. Four long, lonely months.

Bradley ran his thumb along the soft expanse of your skin. Along that strip of skin right above your hips, just where they met your back - right above your ass, right where he could see so very perfectly.

He was gentle. Almost not touching you at all. As though he was afraid he could somehow, even after all this time, hurt you, as though he was afraid he could wipe it away.

"It's healed", you whined, breathlessly, trying your hardest not to squirm, not to push back further into him even though you felt like you were going insane. You'd known he'd take his sweet time staring at that inked expanse of skin. But you hadn't known you would be so goddamn desperate for him to fuck you into delirium while he did so. "It's fully healed."

Bradley was quiet, silent behind you. His thumb stilled, stayed still. You sunk your teeth into your lip.

You would truly go mad here. For more than one reason now.

Bradley was always loud. Always moving, always doing something. He was forward and honest and loud and it was a miracle, really, when he wasn't. When he was calm and quiet and still. It didn't always mean something good.

It surely didn't always mean something bad, either.

But it didn't always mean something good.

And you hadn't been nervous. You hadn't been nervous about showing him, because you knew he loved you and he'd love this - this show of him, this show for him. Just for him. But you had still been fidgety. You had still been excited, flustered.... nervous, after all. In a good way. Now, good was turning to less good because he was quiet, for once, quiet and you didn't know what to do, what to say. You had expected him to go feral, had expected him to fuck you raw, to go absolutely ballistic. You had imagined, pictured, visualised it, four months long. Every night that you hadn't been remembering him, you had been imagining this - this moment right here, where he read the words inked forever into your skin, and every time, again and again, your fingers hadn't been enough, your vibrator hadn't been enough, nothing had been enough. Not in comparison to him, to his fingers and his tongue and his cock.

And every time, again and again, when nothing had been enough to replace him, you thought to yourself just how right it had been to have lain on that leather table bed in that tattoo parlour four months ago. Just how right it was to have him marked on your skin like that. Forever.

Great Balls Of Fire.

"Bradley, please", you whimpered, your fingers closing around whatever piece of fabric you could manage to grab at - the covers, the sheets, the pillows. "Say something. Please"

Bradley let out a long breath.

"Great Balls Of Fire?", he asked quietly, his fingers brushing over your skin again. Some kind of reassurance, at least.

"Thought you'd like it", you mumbled into the pillow, stumbling, tripping over your words a bit, still breathless around the edges. You couldn't be expected to talk now. Not when he was so close to giving you what you needed.

"Like it?" His hands wrapped around your waist, his left thumb still stroking over those unfamiliar familiar letters on your skin - Great Balls Of Fire, in his handwriting, taken from one of his sheets of music, from his piano. His song. His father's song.

Your song.

Your song.

Your song.

"Honey", Bradley rasped, pulling you an inch back to him and you let a whine fall from your lips. You were soaked, you were dripping, you were desperate and still so very unsatisfied. "Do I like it? I love it. I love you. God, you got a tattoo. You're incredible. You're-"

He stumbled over his own words, trailed off, left his sentence hanging unfinished in mid air. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a kiss right on top of your tattoo. Right on top of those letters, on top of that song, on top of your song. On top of the very reason you had met, six years ago in a stuffed navy bar.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me", he muttered, dropping another kiss onto your skin.

You whimpered again.

"You've been so good to me, honey, haven't you?", he went on, as though he wasn't hearing those little whines, those little moans rolling off your tongue. He was. You knew that. "You waited so prettily for me to come back, didn't you? You were so eager for me to be home again, so eager for me to be with you again that you even got a tattoo?"

You nodded along, nodded and nodded and kept on nodding because yes, yes and yes - yes to everything, yes to him.

"You got a tattoo just for me, honey. You can't even see it. Probably had to twist and turn in the mirror every day to take care of it, didn't you? And all just for me."

You nodded again - never really stopped nodding, not with his fingers brushing along your back, over your skin, with his voice so deep and rough and real.

"Just for you", you whined.

Bradley chuckled.

"Just for me", he repeated, his voice deeper than before - if that was even possible - his fingers stroking along your sides, roaming over your back, your spine. "Such a good girl."

A shiver went through your entire body at that - through your legs, your arms, your shoulders, through every single one of your fingers and toes. He knew just what he did to you when he said that.

He knew.

"Bradley", you moaned, unashamed now, the nerves in your veins long subsided, replaced once more by that all-consuming heat that you could never get enough of.

"Yeah, honey?", he asked. You could hear the grin on his lips. "What do you want?"

You let out a sort of sob that sounded pathetic even to your own ears. It wasn't that you minded begging. Because you didn't. You really didn't. But you had already done so, had already begged him miserably, had told him so prettily how you wanted him to fuck you. And he was starting all over again.

"Just once more, honey", Bradley whispered, dropping kisses to your spine, climbing higher and higher. "Tell me once more and you'll get whatever you want."

"Fuck me", you cried out, burying your face in the pillow, not letting even half a second pass by. Bradley always made good on his promises. And you needed him more than anything right now. "Please fuck me."

He was on you within a heartbeat.

One hand around your waist, pulling you into him, as the other one guided himself into you. He pushed into you in one smooth movement, pushed his hips right to yours, stretched you out like he hadn't in four goddamn months.

You were clenching around him, moaning his name, tears brimming in your eyes at the feeling of him again, finally. He was grunting, groaning behind you, his hands clasping around your waist as he settled deep inside you and let out a breath.

You hadn't felt so stretched out in so long. You hadn't felt him in so long. You needed more. You needed to feel more of him.

"Bradley", you whimpered. "Move."

His fingers dug even firmer into your sides. You bit down on your lip. He felt so good, so heavenly with his hands on your skin and his cock deep inside you, but you needed him to move, you needed him to move now, you needed him to fuck you and make you fall apart for him.

"Need a second, honey", he grunted, running his thumbs along your skin - along your new tattoo, just for this, just for him. "God, pretty girl, you're so tight. Missed you so much."

You whimpered underneath him, whimpered as you forced yourself to keep still for him, even as your thighs burned with the need to move, the need for more, the need to finally come undone around him. You knew you were close already. You could feel it, had been feeling it, dancing around the edges of your perception, melting in your blood, scorching in your stomach.

"Missed you too, Bradley", you moaned into the pillow, breathless and desperate for him. "Want to be good for you. So good."

"God, honey, you are", he groaned. "So good. Perfect."

And then he was moving, finally, and you let out a sobbed kind of prayer, your eyes falling shut, your fingers digging into the sheets as he thrust in and out of you in a slow, steady rhythm - enjoying the feeling of you around him, letting you enjoy the feeling of him inside you.

Just that you couldn't enjoy this.

You couldn't enjoy this because you were wound so tightly, wound so goddamn tightly that tears were pricking in your eyes, threatening to run down your cheeks and drop onto the covers. You needed him to make you fall apart, to make you come, you needed more. Just a little more.

You were teetering on the edge and he had you spiralling with how slowly he was fucking you. You needed him to send you over that edge, not build it higher and higher and higher up.

"Bradley", you whined, stumbling clumsily over his name as he ran a hand up your back. "More."

"Dunno if I can-" He broke off, his breath hitching, his fingers resting on your neck, brushing through your hair. "Fuck, honey, dunno if I can do more without coming."

You bit down on your lip at that, let out a moan so absolutely filthy that you were sure you would have been embarrassed of it if you'd had any more capacity to think - to think of anything other than him, anything other than how this god, who could fuck you for hours on end without tiring once, with so much stamina he could have you sobbing, coming for him four, five times on his cock alone, how this god was so desperate for you after four months that he was worried he'd come if he went any faster.

You were almost pushed over the edge just by that alone.

"I don't care", you cried, because you really didn't. "I don't need long, I need you. I'm so close."

Bradley grunted, his fingers brushing even higher up on your scalp.

"You're gonna be the death of me, honey", he muttered, just before he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you up onto your knees - into him, into his arms, your back flush to his chest. You dropped your head against his shoulder with a moan, let your eyes fall shut again.

He thrust up into you with vigor then, with more urgency, with less fear of coming undone, less fear of cutting this short. His hands smoothed over your sides, over your chest, holding you up against him, brushing along your breasts, along your stomach.

And all you could think was yes, this, this was it. This was what you had been imagining, what you had been picturing in a cold, lonesome bed every night, what you had been so desperate for.

His fingers trailed down your thigh, trailed up again, caught on your clit, drew a circle against that little bundle of nerves and you fell forward, doubled over, only held up by him, by his arms around you as you came undone, as you clenched around him.

Four months.

Four months and a tattoo.

And he hadn't even had you there for two minutes, had barely touched you, and now you were falling apart for him, lips parted, eyes squeezed shut, legs burning, fingers cramping. You'd waited four months for this.

You could feel him spilling inside you, noticed it somewhere dancing around the edges of your perception as you gasped for breath, tears stinging your cheeks and your nails digging into your own thighs.

This.

Him.

Bradley's finger had stilled on your clit. You blinked your eyes open, refocused on your green wallpaper, on the pictures, the old vintage polaroids of you and him right above the bed until you could see them all clearly again, until you could see them and realise what they were, until you could manage to tilt your head back and rest it, once more, against Bradley's shoulder. Until you had come back to reality again.

"I missed you so much, honey", he muttered into your ear, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss onto your exposed neck. "Missed this so much."

"Missed you so much too", you mumbled, reached for his hands. He pulled his finger from your clit, let you intertwine your hands with his, rested them carefully on your stomach. "Love you, Bradley."

He pressed another kiss to your neck, his lips warm, oh so warm on your skin, soft and warm and you needed him to kiss you now, to press his lips to yours.

"I love you too, honey", he whispered, halfway to brushing another kiss onto your skin when you turned your head, met his lips with your own, cut him off by surprise.

This was a weird angle, you had to strain your neck to even slot your lips together somewhat well and you were sloppy with it, too, your chest still heaving and your mind returning to clarity just now, but you didn't care, couldn't care, not when he'd just made you come, when he was holding you in his arms, when he was finally here, right behind you again, as though the last four months hadn't happened at all.

When you pulled back, you were feeling more normal again - as normal as you possibly could feel, with him behind you, with him inside you still.

"You got a tattoo", Bradley breathed, a grin dancing around the corners of his lips. You chuckled.

"Just for you", you nodded, brushing your fingertips up his arms, up to his elbows.

Bradley kissed you again, all parted lips and breathing into each other. You felt almost melancholic when he drew back. But he was smiling - and when he smiled, you had to smile too.

"I'm never letting you go again", he said, loosened his grip on you to trail his hands slowly, softly down your body, giving you enough time to steady yourself without him holding you up anymore. "And I'm not letting you leave this bed until the sun comes up, alright, pretty girl?"

You had to bite down on your lip to keep from grinning, anticipation already bubbling in your veins again. You knew he could make good on that promise. And that he probably would.

"Yes, please, Bradley", you muttered, already bending down again, splaying out your hands to catch yourself on the mattress as you showed him your tattoo again, just for him to see, just for him to touch. Just for him. "Whatever you want. As long as you want. I love you."

[amoressb]

𐙚 who could it be?

pairings : classmate!jake x reader ; strangers to lovers

synopsis : in which you reminisce jake catching feelings and asking you to be his

✉︎ There are times where i wonder if you’re ever aware that im staring or stealing glances at you in history and english. I hope you don’t know or else you’ll see just how head over heels i am for you and im not ready for that. One day ill be brave enough to ask you out. - J

✉︎ I had the hope that you smiled at me today when we passed each other in the hallway, but it dwindled when i looked back and saw jay, knowing how close you two are. If you did smile at him, i hope he doesn’t steal you before i get the chance. If only you knew what happens to me every time i see you. I want to confess how i feel but i don’t dare. - A

✉︎ I attempted to crack a joke in hopes it could make you laugh. When you looked back at me, i swear the whole world stopped. You smiled at me and your laugh..its beautiful. I hope you’ll smile and laugh the same way when i confess and you say yes. I can imagine you being shy about it and i find that so adorable. - E

✉︎ I overheard you talking with your friends talking about who could be sending you these letters. Everyone had different thoughts, but you thought it was jay..im not. I wish i could play guitar as good as he can, hes really good no? I wonder if your heart will beat faster if i was able to play a song for you..just for you. Would your cheeks heat up when i call you ‘beautiful’ like how mine do when you look at me? - Y

✉︎ I know you’ve figured out my feelings by now. You looked at me longer than before, have i become obvious with my feelings? Im excited yet scared at the same time. Would you reject me? Would you love me back? I imagine we are meant to be, but it all depends on how your heart feels. - U

✉︎ I know you’re eager to find out who is the sender of these letters, so i’ve worked up the courage to reveal myself. I hope i get the outcome i’ve been wishing for. Come to the music room and ill show you who i am. I even practiced something for you in hopes to impress you and show how i truly love you. - N

“And those were all of them” you say happily looking over at your boyfriend, whose cheeks were starting to heat up while you gather all the sweet letters. “I can’t believe you still have them after all those years” he chuckles as you close the box and place it to the side.

Looking at you confused on the side of the bed as you just stare at him sweetly. You giggle as you throw your arms around him and pulling him down onto the bed with you. “What do you mean ‘all those years’ it was only 2 years ago, plus i saved them because they’re cute and special since i knew they were from you” you say with a grin. “You knew?!” he exclaimed and you simply nodded as he started to nuzzle his face into your neck embarrassed.

“Well i didn’t know till i read the third letter” you assured him. You run your fingers through his hair before pushing him away a bit gently to see his face. You kiss his lips softly, making him go a bit redder. It was so cute how he was still a bit shy when it came to showing love and affection despite how much he begs for it.

“You didn’t have to learn the guitar for me, but it really did make me fall more in love with you when you played that song for me” you state, your hand cupping his cheek, softly stroking your thumb up and down. He falls weak whenever you did that to him, resulting in him laying back down onto you, face nuzzled into your neck. “What you do to me is not right” he says, muffled by his position. You simply giggle at his shyness and run your fingers in his hair again, letting the rest of the night play out with you in each others arms, repeatedly stating how much you love and adore each other.

(HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO POOKIE JAKEY !!🫶🏼)

[2222bad]

LEADING LADY

[michael wants you to be in his upcoming short film] | 1.2k words

WARNINGS: fem!reader , show bizz baby! , john landis ooc (?)

[1983]

“what do you mean you’re not doing the film?” john asks michael, his hip cocked over to one side in climbing distress.

with a sigh, michael states his case once more: “i told you, john, if she can’t be my lead, i’m not doing it. and you can go ahead and tell george that i said it, too.”

john squints through his glasses, fogged from the sudden sweat he’s producing all over his body. with a measured breath, he presses his hands together and moves them slowly up to his mouth.

“i thought you understood this, michael. it’s not personal that your girlfriend doesn’t star in the shoot. okay? we have tons of girls—hundreds—that have come in to audition. by equity standard they need to be seen. will you see them, or do i have to go tell them we’ve wasted their time?”

michael looks down at the book of headshots, his fingers peruse the several pages, eyeing over the pictures. black and white prints of stunning smolders, shining smiles.

“i already know who i’m looking for, john.”

“you already know who you’re looking for—look, i didn’t fly all the way here to make a home video,” john steams, “if that’s what you want, you can kiss the whole thing goodbye. it won’t do well, michael.”

a flicker dove into michael’s eye like a flash of fire.

“you wanna bet?” he teases, folding his arms in his jacket.

john’s face falls, his whole body coming forward in surrender to his dejection. his hands find michael’s shoulders and he sighs into the feeling.

“will you at least see them?” john begs, his eyes full of exhaustion. “if you don’t find a girl by the end of today, we can talk.”

“mhm,” michael answers blankly and drags his loafers behind the audition table. once in his seat again, john peers behind him. he’s put his sunglasses back on.

—

“that’s your one hundred and thirty-fifth no…do we even try for thirty-sixth?” john asks with the weight of a thousand men as he flops the last headshot down on the table.

“i’m sorry, none of them are what i want,” michael says, shaking his head.

red-faced and sweaty, george reaches across the table in agitation. “michael. we’ve got girls like ola ray coming in here who are perfect for this role and you’re turning them down. what’s the problem, huh? i’m sorry, but your girl won’t fit. she doesn’t work.”

“how would you know?” michael flops his hands down in his lap with an airy chuckle. “you haven’t even met her.”

the table suppresses its groans. chairs creak and papers shuffle under the sound of clearing throats.

“we are running out of time, john,” mumbles george.

“alright,” john grumbles, nose bridge pinched between his director’s fingers, “tell her to come tomorrow. we’ll do the screen test.”

the littered cups of coffee rattle and shake as john scrunches his chair from the table and walks into the hall with his hand on the back of his neck. michael feels none of the animosity. in fact, he continues to smile.

—

“c’mere! i’ll introduce you,” michael says as he wraps his arms around your shoulders excitedly. the minute you stepped inside the warehouse, michael skipped over to your side. it was a tall place, huge and full of mock set pieces. where you’d be needed was in front of the camera where the wall had been replaced with fake brick.

“how should i act? gosh, im so nervous.” you grab a hold of michael’s prototype jacket, his feet going miles faster than you could in your heels.

“you’re wonderful just as you are. just be yourself,” he assures you, pressing his lips to your cheek unabashedly.

before you stood his crew looking pensive and eyeing various parts of the set up. it was a small team, but definitely mighty. you’d lost count of how many times you’d seen an american werewolf in london and hoped it wasn’t obvious in the way your teeth shone with egregious enthusiasm.

with an arm around you, michael gestured excitedly to each of the guys. “this is rick baker; our makeup artist, george folsey jr.; he’ll be helping with producing, that’s michael peters; we’re choreographing together, and, of course, this is john landis.”

“it’s lovely to finally meet you,” you smile shyly, “thank you very much for this opportunity.”

john gives a tight-lipped smile, but doesn’t say a word. you glance at michael who beams a grin worth the entirety of the sun and he takes your hand to show you around.

—

“this is just a test,” john reminds you carefully as rick sprays aqua net over your hair. stood in front of the brick wall, you try to blink the hot lights from your view.

of course. you knew that. but something about the way he said it felt weird in your body.

you give a look of understanding and a small nod that john could catch from the monitor. of course. just a test.

you were fabulous on screen. you took every point of direction from john with grace and an undeniably natural way about you that felt so refreshing and new. when michael joined you, there was no mistake how great you paired together on screen. michael was at ease, improvising and enjoying himself immensely. it was rare john had to make any adjustment at all.

behind the camera, george and john watch you two move through the watered down zombie portion.

“what’d he say she’s been in?” george asks in a low voice.

“not much…a few guest roles, mostly magazine shoots,” john says.

george pauses, now looking over at john who was notably invested in the monitor’s gaze.

“he’s gonna fight this until the end,” george huffs and lights a cigarette.

“yeah,” john shrugs, “he’s young.”

but he couldn’t deny how michael’s eyes lit up when he looked at you. the way he wrapped his arms around you, the way he got you to smile. he shone. held so much virility and love inside. just what the video needed.

he ran his fingers along his beard.

“alright! that’s good, michael! take five!”

—

the second the premiere finally aired on mtv, your phone rang off the hook like a bat out of hell.

your agent, your friends, your family. all of them sat on their couches, bunched up with celebration and popcorn, their hands flying to the phone once vincent’s wicked laugh erupted over michael’s haunting citrine eyes.

“i’m here in the office right now!” your agent laughs, “i can’t believe it! you won’t believe who’s calling for you. can you make it in tomorrow?”

“yeah,” you do your best to curb your smile, “yeah, i can be there first thing.”

“you’d better! the world wants you! congratulations.”

“baby! it’s playin’ again!” michael hollers from the couch. “come on! you’re gonna miss it!”

“oh—hey, i’ve gotta go! i’ll see you tomorrow! thank you, thank you, thank you!”

as you make it back to the couch, the roar of crickets and frogs fill your ears, the car rolls down the darkened street, you get that same starry feeling you did when you really filmed it all over again.

“did you talk to john?” you ask sweetly as the car fizzles out of gas. wrapped in michael’s arms, you steal a few pieces of popcorn from his open palm.

“yeah,” he smirks at the scene. “he says it’s great.”

“and what’d you say?” your gaze moves up to his face, smiling big.

“i said, 'i told you so.'”

AAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAAHHAHUHUHUHUHHHHhhhhhh

—

@writtenbychris

[ferrarrigirl]

i beg for some lando x reader where he is a girl dad!!!!!!! love ur work 🫶

Full House

Pairing: dad!Lando x mom!reader

Summary: Lando and reader with their 4 daughters, there’s always drama in the Norris household. Slight angst, mostly fluff.

A/N: Im so sorry this took forever to write but I hope you like it xx

You had just retired to your room after finally finishing up the last of your emails for today. Trying to sneak in a quick nap before the rest of the family gets home. Maybe you should’ve checked the time because just as you got comfortable, the front door unlocks downstairs, followed by Layla’s loud voice, “You just always have to take everything I want. Couldn’t this be the one thing you left for me?”

You immediately jumped out of bed heading for the stairs. As your racing down the steps, you hear the younger of the twins, Ava, retaliate, “I didn’t mean to Lay, it’s not my fault.”

Both girls turn to face you seeing you’ve reached the bottom step. “What is going on girls?” You question, deeply concerned with the anger laced in both their voices.

Layla’s first to reply, “Ask her Mom, ask her why she had to go after the one guy I liked.”

“I didn’t go after him, I don’t chase anyone” Ava seethes through gritted teeth.

“Oh cut the shit, you love having every guy’s attention. You should’ve left Jake alone!”

“Layla, stop,” you scold, noticing Ava’s patience is growing thin. That never ended well. Similar to her dad, it took a lot for her to get angry, but if she did, it wasn’t pretty.

“No Mom let her say what she has to. She’s just mad no one wants her.”

“Ava! That is not how you speak to your sister,” you move to step between them. “Let’s take a break and talk about this when you’ve both calmed down,” you offer.

“Fine by me, I never want to speak to her again,” Layla glares at Ava, turns on her heel and heads up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door, hard. You move to step towards Ava, in attempts to comfort her but she slips under your arm. “Please don’t defend her mom,” Ava sighs and heads up to her room as well. It’ll be best to try and get through to them later you think, especially with Lan. They always seem to more receptive hearing it from him. You turn to your younger babies, the less of the trouble makers. “How was both of yours days? Better I hope?”

“Oh yea mum the best, but I wanna catch up on some reading before dinner, is that okay?” 11 year old Amelia pleads, looking up at you through her beautiful green eyes. How could you deny that. “Of course you can bub” you say, pulling your bookworm baby into a hug. “I’ll come get you when dinners ready,” she smiles, padding up the stairs to her room aswell.

“Now you, my sweets, come here.” You crouch down to your 7 year old, knowing she gets very anxious whenever her older sisters argue. As expected, immediately she’s in your arms, almost throwing you back with the impact. You pick Charlotte up and move upstairs, asking her about her day to try and distract her. You take her to Lando’s office and settle into his gaming chair with her on your lap. It was always your comfort room, something about the darkness mixed with the led lights soothed you. She fills you in on the few things she learned today, but mostly all the games they played, while she snuggles further into you. You hated that she got the anxiety trait from you, so anything you could do to help her out, you would. Lucky for you, your voice worked well to relax her so you spoke to her about your day and felt her ease up.

“I’m home,” you smile hearing the front door open and close, followed by heavy footsteps moving quickly up the stairs. Char jumps off your lap, running out and straight into Lando’s arms. “Daddyyyy” she exclaims, presssing a sloppy kiss to his cheek. Lando follows where she came from, leading him to you sitting in his gaming chair. He furrows his brows, notificing your smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Are you okay babe?”

“Yea-“

“Lay and A had a big fight and they yelled and screamed at each other,” Char quickly spills.

“Oh sorry mummy,” she pouts seeing your gaze shift towards her. “Wanted to tell daddy so he can fix it.”

“That’s okay baby,” you stand, placing a kiss to her head. “Do you wanna go play with Amelia while me and daddy talk? We’ll grab to help cook dinner.”

Halfway through your sentence, she’s already jumping out of Lando’s arms and rushing out the door. “I’ll take that as a yes” you giggle while Lando engulfs you in his arms.

“Talk to me love” he mumbles against the skin of your neck, making sure to leave a few pecks. He stays like that, rocking you side to side as you unveil the events that led you here. It’s a lot to digest. And it’s never fun knowing your girls are fighting, especially if it’s over a boy, but you both know you need to get to the bottom of what happened.

“Hey” he pulls back and cups your face with a hand on each cheek. “They’re young, they’re siblings. They’re gonna fight. We can talk them both out of it.”

You were used to the twins fighting. They always bicker, but never like this. “I know Lan but you should’ve seen how they spoke to each other. Poor Char was frightened too.”

He pulls you back in for another hug, “Love, you know how sassy they can be. I’m sure once we speak to them, they’ll get over it just as quick.” he reassures rubbing you up and down your back.

“Fine but your talking to Layla,” you mumble into his chest.

You feel his chest rumble with laughter under your head. “Lucky me.” Pulling back he places a soft sweet kiss to your lips, grabs your hand pulling you in the direction of the twins rooms.

He goes first, knocking on Layla’s door. “Mom not now.”

“Not Mom, its Dad.”

Lando rolls his eyes hearing his eldest groan. He can imagine her dragging her feet towards the door. She opens the door the tiniest bit and rushes back into her bed, tucking herself into her multiple blankets. “I still don’t wanna talk. I’m only letting you in to know if you beat Uncle Los today.” Layla loved going to golf with her dad, the only one of the family that seemed to enjoy it, especially when her and Carlos would team up against Lando.

“Well I don’t want to talk about golf so I guess you won’t know.”

“Ughh stop being annoying dad,” she says, voice now muffled as she turns shoving her face into the pillow.

“Hey if you tell me, I’ll tell you.”

A moment of silence passes, he knows she wants to talk about it. Heck if with anyone it would be with him. She contemplates it, but shakes her head. “It’s embarrassing.”

‘Lay, there’s nothing you need to be embarrassed about with me. You can tell me anything.” Lando moves closer to sit by her, rubs her back up and down. “i won’t force you to talk, but I need you to know this is what me and your mom are here for. No judgement with us, ever.”

He stays like that, comforting Layla for a bit, and once he realizes she isn’t ready to talk yet, he moves to get up. But immediately she senses him leaving and turns back around. She looks up to her dad with tears flooding her eyes, “No one likes me dad.”

That’s all it took, and the tears started flowing. She moved into his arms and surely the silent cries turned into louder sobs. In the moment, Lando didn’t even know what to say. He felt like he did when the twins were younger and he’d always look to you to figure out why they were crying, but in this moment he knew it was all him. He began with hugging her back and reminding her she needs to stop crying or she won’t be able to breathe. She slowly pulled back and began explaining seeing the concerned look on her dad’s face.

“Jake is the only guy I’ve ever liked. And I thought he liked me back too.”

“Okay..” Lando swallows, not expecting her to be so blunt about boys, but he urges her to continue anyway.

“We got along really well, he was really nice and all of my friends even told me they knew he liked me. And then, today at school, infront of all us, he asked Ava out.”

“I see, what did Ava say?”

“She said no, obvs. But still. She gets every guy and she doesn’t even have to try. If Jake can’t even like me now, when we’ve been getting on for so much longer, then no one is ever going to like me.”

Lando’s starting to get it now. Being a twin in highschool surely can’t be easy. Especially when these years can have a great effect on your self esteem.

“Baby, you can not put your self worth into the hands of a boy. You are so beautiful inside and out, smart, and hilarious.” “And amazing at golf,” he emphasizes to bring a small smile to her face

“You are going to find someone that loves you for you, but that isn’t something you need to worry about yet. I know it’s hard seeing Ava have it different but it doesn’t make you any less better in any way.”

“It’s just not fair Dad.”

“I know bub, it might feel like that now but come next week, next month, you and no one else are going to remember this. And if that dumb boy can’t see everything amazing in my daughter, he isn’t someone I want for you and you shouldn’t want that for yourself either. I mean there will never be a boy good enough for my girls but this once isn’t even getting close.”

She lets out some more snotty giggles and reaches to hug Lando again. “Love you dad”

“ I love you more. Now, do you see how Ava is not at fault here?”

“Yeah I do. I guess in the heat of the moment it was easier to blame her.”

“I get that, but let’s try and have a breath before going at each other next time? You girls are lucky to have a built in best friend, never let a boy get in between you two.” Layla nods, feeling guilty about her behaviour earlier and realising she must’ve scared Charlotte, she asks “Is Char okay?”

“She is bub, don’t worry. Anything else you need?” Lando confirms, he didn’t want to impose and give her some alone time before dinner.

“No that’s it. Thank you Dad.”

“No problem sweets,” he reaches down placing a kiss to her head. “Go get up and shower, you’ve got snot everywhere,” he teases, moving to leave the room.

“Wait, so did you beat Los?”

“Nope, got absolutely destroyed.”

“Omg I have to text him,” she says breaking into a fit of laughter as Lando shakes his head and opens the door to head out. “Yeah yeah be down in 30 for dinner.”

He heads down the stairs, joining you in the kitchen. “How’d it go?” You inquire as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind and rests his head on your shoulder. “Good, she was just feeling a little insecure.”

“Ava was the same,” you inform. “She was upset Layla thought she would do it to her on purpose, but I told her she knew it wasn’t but was acting in the heat of the moment.”

“Mhmm,” Lando mumbles, placing a few kisses to your neck, “just glad we got through to them.” You both settle into each others warmth when you hear giggles filling the house. All 4 girls come tumbling down the stairs heading straight for you. Amelia and Ava immediately cling to Lando having not seen him today. They pull him away, fillling him in on their day, while Layla comes to you holding Charlotte in her arms.

“I’m sorry mum,” she pouts. You can see the guilt eating away at her, she was always a softie at heart.

“That’s okay my love, how are you feeling now?” You wrap your arms around the 2 girls, trying to provide her some reassurance.

“Much better, i apologized to Ava too. But I’m really sorry for causing a ruckus at home.”

“I’m proud of you baby. Do not let anyone get in your head and make you forget how special you are, especially not a boy.” You press a big kiss to her cheek, “I love you sweets.”

Before Layla can reply, Char is jumping out of her arms and into yours, “Me tooo mummy.” You giggle, reaching to grab her and move to the couch to join the rest of your family. You all cuddle under a large blanket and decide pizza and movies is how you’ll spend the rest of the night.