#Behind Every Great Teacher

[raine-but-irl]

you ever see SUCH a display of "how the fuck can u even do such a senseless thing" it makes you lose your fucking mind??

[caught-in-the-filter]

.

[sanarsi]

You’re doing great, sweetie

no-outbreak!professor!Joel Miller x student!f!Reader

Summary: You came to your professor to ask for help with your essay. He accidentally discovers one of your dirty secrets which is him. Warnings: +18, MDNI, age gap (reader is 20, Joel is 50), soft!dom!Joel (oh you’re gonna love him), unprotected/protected PIV, pet names (honey, baby, sweetheart, sweetie), blowjob, fingering, cum eating Wordcount: 4,8k An: I am WEAK for caring and sweet Joel so that's who he is here. He’s wonderful and I love him with all my heart so I hope you love him too xx Music I worked with: Ultraviolence - Lana Del Rey

Masterlist

Studying was hard. You shed sweat and tears there.

You tried.

You really tried.

Despite this, you weren't proud of yourself. You knew you could do better. You were like an executioner to yourself. Sleepless nights, thousands of notes and liters of coffee. That's what it cost you to pass a measly 95%.

Fucking 95%.

Where's the missing 5%? Where did you make a mistake that cost you as much as 5%? You had no idea. But you knew where you could find out.

Professor Miller's office was always open. Always invited stray students. Or in your case, perfectionists. Always welcomed with warmth and the smell of herbs. His office was a place of momentary respite and the feeling that the world wasn't really running, it was you. And that's why when you knocked on his door and were greeted by his warm smile, you finally felt like you could breathe.

“Professor,” you said with a smile, tightening your grip around a few notebooks.

"My favorite student," he replied in a warm but tired voice. No wonder, it was Friday and already late. Nothing worse than you could have happened to him.

“I'm sorry to disturb-”

“You know very well that you never disturb me,” he interrupted you immediately. You pursed your lips into a line, feeling your stomach tighten. He was always like this... And you still haven't gotten used to it. "Come in, I'll make you some tea," he offered, moving to the side. You smiled nervously and slipped inside.

"Actually, I prefer coffee."

"Coffee then," he nodded, closing the door and heading towards what replaced the small kitchen. You placed the stack of notebooks on the table and placed your bag on the ground. You looked around the office decorated in shades of dark brown and beige.

Everything here was thought out. Delicate accessories. Perfectly arranged books. Large oak desk. A table and a few chairs. And a large leather sofa by the window.

You liked being here. But the office itself was not enough. It was Professor Miller who gave it life. It was his energy that permeated every inch that made you feel at home here. Or at least that's what you wanted home to feel like.

You looked out the window at the small park in the middle of campus. The leaves on the trees were yellow, heralding the beginning of autumn. And everything would be beautiful if it weren't for the nasty weather. You don't even remember the last time you felt the sun's rays on your skin. Everything was as if under a dome of thick clouds.

“There are upsides to this weather,” professor's voice rang out behind you. You turned around just as he was placing two cups of coffee on the table.

"Like?" you asked, walking closer and sitting on the chair. Joel followed your lead and sat down with a soft groan. You smiled in amusement.

"Well..." he began, raising his eyebrows and leaned back, "actually, there aren't any," he finished after a moment's thought. “Unless you like rain and greyness,” he added with a smile.

You chuckled to yourself at his words. Sometimes you wished Joel was your main teacher. He was the only one who was just normal.

“What are you coming to me with?” he asked finally. You blinked a few times and cleared your throat, shifting in your chair. How should you tell him this...?

“I wanted to talk about the last essay we wrote,” you began calmly, seeing understanding immediately appear on Joel's face. "I wanted to know why you subtracted 5% from me."

"Of course you would like to know..." he muttered under his breath, amused, and shook his head. He looked at you with warmth in his eyes and was silent for a moment before sighing. “Honey, are you really going to fight for the stupid 5%?” he asked, hoping that maybe you'd change your mind and save you both from having to work on nothing.

“It's important 5%” you corrected him and he just looked at you in amusement. His smile was like a ray of sunshine on these cloudy days. Joel sighed, shaking his head and took off his glasses to wipe his tired face. He looked at you one more time before standing up and moving towards his desk. He pushed his glasses up his nose as he looked through the stack of papers, looking for your name. After a while he returned to his place with a few papers. He began to silently look through your work while you calmly drank your coffee. The coffee he made was always the best.

“Yeah okay…” he spoke after a few long minutes before he dropped your work on the table and slid it towards you. You put down your cup and took the papers. “The first half is good. Very good actually," he began to explain as you looked through a few pieces of paper, "But somewhere in the middle you completely changed your writing style. I didn't like it.” He glanced at the papers, wrinkling his nose. “The sentences were so…empty,” he explained, so you looked at him.

Was it really just about that? About the stupid writing style?

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling a pang in your heart.

“Is there anything I can do to improve?” you asked, sounding so delicate as if the slightest stimulus could break you. Joel was silent for a moment, staring at you. And he might start cursing you for how soft his heart was towards you.

He nodded slowly and drank his coffee. Every second of his silence seemed to drag on forever. The sound of the cup being placed down echoed in your head. You blinked a few times, waiting for him to speak but your leg began to tremble restlessly under the table.

“I'll do anything,” you said, unable to bear the silence. Joel smiled shaking his head.

"I know," he replied warmly. He cleared his throat, shifting in the chair. "Read the whole thing and mark the moment when you notice the change I mentioned to you," he instructed, to which you nodded and immediately got to work. In the meantime, he got up and continued what your visit had interrupted. Organizing papers wasn't his favorite thing to do, but he had to do it someday.

For several minutes you were focused on every word you wrote on these papers a week ago. The work was still satisfactory, but only now you were able to notice what the professor had mentioned. You winced as you read the sentences that looked like they were written by a robot. You understood why he deducted 5% from you.

“I can see it now,” you said, looking up. Joel stopped reading and placed the papers on the shelf before heading towards you. He stopped behind you and rested his hand on the back of your chair. His fingers touched your sweater, making you sit up straighter. You glanced at him as he leaned closer, looking at your work.

“Mhm,” he murmured, nodding. His attention was focused on the text until he finally straightened up. “Start from this point again. Write, I will come and check,” he ordered, looking down at you. “Then we'll talk about those important 5%,” he finished and you nodded automatically. You liked it when he was professional. Gravity and authority suited him. You followed him with your eyes and only when he returned to looking through his papers, you did get to work too.

You sat in silence for an hour, writing your papers. For an hour, the only thing that broke the silence was Joel's soft murmurs. He watched you from time to time as you dealt with your writing, and a small smile appeared on his lips when he saw how focused you were.

It was starting to get dark outside, so a few warm lamps gave a nice atmosphere. You were staring at the last sentence you wrote when suddenly a cup of hot coffee appeared next to you. You looked away from the text and looked at your steaming drink.

“Thank you,” you said quietly and glanced up at Joel who was looking into your notebook. He carefully followed the text you had written. You remained silent, waiting for him to speak. Finally he nodded gently in approval.

“You're doing great,” he praised, making eye contact with you. You smiled gently and he responded in the same way. He straightened up, tapping your chin teasingly and winking. "Write," he nodded and then left.

You swallowed hard, staring at his back as your heart beat so loudly that it drowned out everything around you. You blinked a few times in confusion and shifted nervously in your seat, returning your gaze to your notebook.

He had such a warm smile...

Another hour passed. Joel continued to stand by the bookcase arranging papers and books while you walked around reading your work to him.

“Repeat that last sentence,” he spoke, catching your eye for a moment. You stopped and looked at the text.

“Her gaze was empty and sunk into the depths of darkness,” you read and immediately looked at him, expecting disapproval. Joel was silent for a moment, wrinkling his nose and passing the papers between his fingers.

"Next."

“Like death slowly emerging, she stood up too. The black lady who heralded no tomorrow…”

“I like this one,” he said, cutting you off halfway through. You looked at him with a smile and continued reading.

Several minutes passed before you finished. You stood in the middle of the room with a grimace as you read the last few sentences in your head again.

“I don't think I like the ending,” you said hesitantly. Before long, you felt the professor's body behind you. His hand came to rest on your arm as he leaned over your shoulder. You immediately stopped breathing, feeling your skin begin to burn where he touched you. He focused on reading and you focused on the way his chest pressed against your back.

Damn…why did his touch send such pleasant warmth? Why was his closeness so pleasant that you were afraid to move lest it be interrupted?

“I don't see any problem,” he said, frowning. His voice so close to your ear sent shivers down your entire body. You swallowed, forcing yourself to say a few sentences.

Why did it take so much energy for you to speak?

“I'm reading this and it doesn't feel like it's over,” you explained and glanced sideways at him. “Do you see what I mean?” Joel caught your eye for a moment and then started reading the text again.

“I understand, but I still don't see the problem. You ended it in a simple way," he said, tracing the text with his finger.

“You know I don't like simplicity,” you muttered under your breath, earning him a sigh. The sound made your stomach tighten.

“Honey, listen…” he started and tightened his fingers on your arm. “I know you try like no other and always want everything to be perfect,” he said calmly, not wanting you to take it the wrong way. You looked at him and immediately locked eyes. “But sometimes simple is best option,” he finished, smiling softly. You stared into his eyes in silence and slowly swallowed when your gaze fell to his lips for a moment. You immediately looked away at your notes, feeling your breath shudder.

"I'm still not convinced"

“Of course you're not,” Joel sighed and snatched the notebook from you before walking away a few steps, starting to read again. You stood there, watching as he slowly started to spin in circles.

“I would give you 100% for this” he commented.

“I wouldn't give 100% for this,” you muttered under your breath, but not so quietly that he couldn't hear it. He looked at you, stopping.

“It's good that you're not me,” he replied with a gentle smile, which immediately made you feel a blush of shame on your cheeks. Joel went back to reading and you started mentally cursing yourself at your long tongue.

You started playing with your fingers behind your back and looked down at your shoes for a moment. Only the sound of pages turning caught your attention. Joel indifferently studied the remaining pages in your notebook, and then you felt a twinge of panic. You were about to open your mouth to speak when he interrupted you.

"I will give you a deadline for corrections," he continued, flipping through the pages until he finally stopped at one. "This is interesting," he commented under his breath, starting to read. You felt a cold sweat cover your body as you realized what could have caught his attention.

“Professor…” you spoke warningly. Joel silenced you with a wave of his hand. You fell silent, pursing lips tightly. You swallowed the lump in your throat, watching him closely. You watched for any signs of what he might be reading. And more importantly, how he reacted to what he read.

A soft smile appeared on his lips before he looked towards you. You looked like you had seen a ghost, what amuse him even more.

"You're even better at non-fiction than short stories," he commented, raising an eyebrow and closing notebook. You blinked a few times as if his words were completely lost on you. Only after a while you waking up from the stasis.

"Non-fiction?" you asked confused. You frowned, wondering if you had ever written something non-fiction, but nothing came to mind.

“I mean…” he started with a snort and slowly moved towards you. "I thought my eyes were just brown," he laughed softly. And that's when your heart stopped.

You felt every muscle in your body tense as you watched him in horror. He read... He read the fucking poetry about his eyes. You were screwed…

“Professor-” you started, wanting to explain yourself. Say anything that could get you out of this ridiculous situation.

“Joel,” he interrupted you.

You froze with your mouth parted and you could have sworn you heard your heart start beating again.

You stared at him when he stopped two steps in front of you. Joel seemed completely relaxed while you were having a nervous breakdown. Your silence only made his smile widen.

"Do not get me wrong. I really like it” He lifted the notebook, tapping the cover with his finger. You followed his every move carefully in silence. Really, you couldn't be in a worse position. “I'd love to read about other things, too,” he added with a smile and held out notebook towards you. You hesitantly raised your trembling hand and took your notebook, hugging it to your chest as if it would protect you from everything that was happening.

You blinked a few times, your eyes darting. As long as you don't look him in the eye. You nodded in agreement, feeling like nothing could come out of your mouth.

“Hey…” he started gently and grabbed your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him.

His hand… on your face… Oh god.

“Don't be ashamed of your poetry,” he said, gently stroking your skin with his thumb. You swallowed hard, feeling yourself start to shiver. You nodded almost invisibly. “Use your words,” he encouraged.

“Okay,” you whispered weakly, your breath shaky. One word cost you more effort than writing several pages of text.

"That's my good girl," he smiled wider, pleased.

His fingers slowly traced your cheek and he tucked a broken strand of hair behind your ear, following every move with eyes.

“So what can I read about in the future?” he asked as his fingers slowly moved down to your neck. You felt like you were burning alive. You were so damn hot that you started sweating. Your heart wasn’t slowing down and you could barely catch your breath.

Was this what dying was like?

“I-” you trailed off, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Maybe hands?” he suggested, raising an eyebrow. His fingers slowly moved your hair behind your shoulder. “Hm? What do you think?" He asked, looking back into your eyes.

You felt like you were in some movie. You weren't even able to think straight when he touched you like that. You nodded in response.

“Words,” he reminded you.

“Yes, I'd like that.” Joel smiled warmly before removing his hand and sighing.

“Great,” he nodded and walked past you towards the door. You turned around, watching his every move. “I have time next week. You can come to my class and write your essay," he said on his way to the door.

You took a few steps after him but stopped when he did too. Joel turned towards you, his hand on the doorknob. He still had that warm smile on his face as he looked at you.

“Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere,” he said, raising an eyebrow when he noticed you had moved from your previous spot. His fingers slipped from the door knob and closed the door in one motion.

Then you realized what was about to happen.

You parted your lips, trying to catch your breath, but Joel was already in front of you again.

And this time, his lips were the reason you stopped breathing.

Soft and warm lips surrounded by rough stubble.

A mixture that made your knees weak in a second.

You sighed at the feeling of his lips pressed against yours, leading you in a slow dance. His hand on your cheek and the other wrapped around your waist. You sighed again as he pulled you closer. His tongue found yours and his fingers tangled in your hair. He kissed gently and tenderly. Exactly as you imagined. Exactly as you needed.

“Tell me,” he started, pulling away from your lips, breathing heavily. “Tell me that you want this.”

His breath mixed with yours. Your gaze was fixed on his lips and his on your eyes.

“Mhm,” you nodded because that was all you could do. But it was enough for him to crash his lips against yours again. You moaned at the intensity with which he started kissing you. Like he was thirsty.

Joel took the notebook from your hands and threw it on the table. His lips collided with yours over and over again. His arm wrapped tightly around your body. A scenario like one of your wet dreams.

“On your knees,” he whispered against your lips and loosened his grip. You took a moment to calm your breathing and licked his saliva from your swollen lips. You looked into his eyes, filled with warmth and desire. A look you would do anything for. Including falling to your knees in front of him.

You watched as his fingers slowly unbuckled his belt. And he just watched your sweet face. Your eyes reflected soft lights and your lips were slightly puffy. You looked like an angel.

He slowly unzipped his zipper and then your eyes met his. And you had to admit that this was the perspective from which you could look at him forever.

His hand disappeared into his boxers only to take out his semi-hard cock a moment later. You weren't able to take your eyes off his, causing a smirk to appear on his lips.

“Come on baby, you gotta help me out a little.”

His gentle words and warm smile immediately encouraged you to do whatever he asked you to do. You looked at his cock and slowly moved closer to place a kiss on the tip. That was enough for Joel to moan quietly with satisfaction. You licked the precum from his tip, immediately moisturizing all his length. Another moan escaped his lips as you took him into your mouth. His hand found its way into your hair as you slowly began to caress his cock with your mouth. With each movement of your tongue you felt him getting harder and harder. Until you finally started choking on him.

You pulled away for air and looked at him as he took off his glasses to wipe his face. He looked like he had run a marathon, but his eyes were full of you. He was breathing heavily as he decided to put his glasses on the table. And then you wrapped your mouth around his cock again.

“So pretty,” he moaned, stroking your head affectionately.

You felt his tip teasing your throat again so you pulled away, gasping for breath. His thumb was immediately on your lips, wiping away the saliva. You looked up at him like an innocent deer.

“Good, baby,” he praised you and tugged on your chin, forcing you to stand up. He immediately leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. You melted under his lips, making him smile.

His hands slid down your waist to your hips, pressing his fingers against your skin. A second later he was unbuttoning your jeans only for his hand to slip into your panties. You both moaned at the same time as his fingers traced your entrance. You grabbed onto his arms as your knees buckled beneath you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he felt your reaction.

“You're so wet,” he whispered against your lips. His eyes never left yours as he began to spread your juices over your clit. You shuddered, breathing heavily, and dug your nails harder into his skin. Then his fingers slowly slipped into your wet hole.

He watched in delight as your lips parted and your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. The moan that left your throat as he slowly moved his fingers was like music to his ears. Every movement of his fingers echoed throughout your body. Like you were getting drunker with each thrust.

Joel couldn't help himself and started drinking your moans like the best wine. For the first time, it didn't take much to feel your orgasm building between your legs. He groaned into your mouth, feeling you slowly tighten around his finger.

"Already?" he asked with a smile.

“Please,” you moaned sweetly and he smiled wider. He stole a gentle kiss from you.

“Of course,” he whispered, pleased with how intensely you responded to his touch. He was flattered.

You closed your eyes as your body began to chase your orgasm. Then his fingers flexed slightly and you felt stars all over your body. You moaned as you came on his fingers. Joel didn't stop until he saw the beautiful post-orgasmic bliss on your face.

When you finally opened your eyes, you immediately saw him licking his fingers clean of your juices. And honestly, it was the sexiest sight of your life. You swallowed, wanting to moisten your dry throat.

“Turn around,” he ordered, continuing to lick his fingers. You followed his instructions without hesitation.

You felt his large, warm hands on your hips and your heart beat faster in your chest with excitement. His hand pushed your back gently, causing you to lie down on the table. His lips kissed your shoulder a few times before he straightened up, looking down at you.

And he would be lying if he said that this sight had never crossed his mind.

In a second your jeans were sliding down your thighs. You heard his soft laugh when he noticed your panties.

"You're really sweet," he commented, running his fingers over the white panties with colorful strawberries. A blush burned your face, but you smiled to yourself anyway.

A few seconds later, your panties also stopped at your thighs. Joel crouched down and spread your thighs so he could look at your wet pussy. A soft growl left his throat, making you tense as another drop of your previous orgasm left your entrance.

“I could eat you all night long,” he said, his voice laced with desire and your stomach twisted into knots. His words echoed against your pussy, making your knees tremble. “Another time, sweetheart,” with that he stood up and spread the wetness between your legs with his fingers. You moaned at the feeling and closed your eyes, snuggling into the table. He leaned over you and ran his nose over your ear. You shuddered. "Because there will be another time, hm?" he whispered, sending shivers down your entire body.

He slowly positioned his cock perfectly at your entrance and ran the tip along the length of your pussy to wet it. You started panting as you felt him ready to enter you.

“Yes, please,” you moaned. Joel laughed softly and then slowly entered you until the end. You both moaned as he stopped his hips against yours.

And then reality hit him. He straightened up, looking at the place where you were connected.

"Shit, baby, I didn't put a condom," he cursed due to his stupidity. You immediately glanced at him over your shoulder, seeing that he was surprised by his own carelessness.

“I'm taking the pills,” you replied quickly, not wanting him to interrupt. You felt him so damn good…

“Are you sure?” he asked, a bit worried about whether you wanted him to continue.

“I am,” you nodded. You looked at each other for a moment and then Joel leaned down to capture your lips in a slow kiss. His hips slowly came back to life, thrusting into you slowly and intensely. His cock stimulated every wall of your pussy perfectly. You moaned into his mouth, feeling him in every part of your body. As if his cock was made just for you.

His fingers dug hard into your hips as he slowly buried himself inside you. It quickly drove you crazy. You couldn't even kiss him back so you fell on the table, choking heavily.

Joel rested his forehead on your shoulder as he entered you again and again. Taking his time, enjoying you. He loved the way you tightened around his cock every time he entered you all the way.

His moans disappeared in your skin and his cock in your pussy, creating a deadly mixture that quickly brought you to the brink of breaking. You cried as you felt his slow movements drive you to sweet madness. You wanted to beg him to speed up, to do anything to speed up your fulfillment. But Joel knew very well what he was doing. Your needy moans only confirmed to him how good he was doing you.

“You're doing great, sweetie” he breathed against your ear as you cried his name once again. His movements were like slow torture. Perfect to bring you to the edge of pleasure and too slow to end it.

But then he changed the movement of his hips, pushing himself even deeper into you. You choked on air as he growled, holding you even tighter. You didn't need much now.

“Can you cum on my cock?” he asked, panting with thirst.

“Mhm,” you nodded, pressing your lips together to keep from squealing. Joel let out a satisfied groan and started placing kisses on your shoulder. You closed your eyes, moaning with desire.

“You're fucking perfect, baby,” he moaned, stroking and squeezing your hip and thigh. He was insanely hungry for you. Like an animal. Like a worshipper.

One last push of his hips and his name fell from your lips like a prayer as you came. Joel groaned as he felt you tighten on his cock. He stopped, enjoying the feeling, feeling that his orgasm was fast approaching. He then started thrusting into you again, at a slightly faster speed. This only prolonged your pleasure to the limit.

“Cum inside you?” he asked, his fingers tightening on your hip.

“Yes, Mr. Miller,” you moaned. Joel growled, grabbing your neck and pulling you to his chest. His lips crushed yours in a hungry kiss in a second. A few moves inside you and his moan disappeared into your mouth. His cock twitched inside you, filling you fully with his orgasm.

You both panted into each other's mouths as he gave you sweet gentle kisses. Eventually his breathing calmed down and he pulled away so he could look at you with a blissful smile. He ran his gentle fingers along your cheek and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I'll make time for you tomorrow. The sooner you write your essay, the sooner I can enjoy you, deal?" he suggested.

You smiled softly and nodded, “Deal.”

[pellucid-constellations]

Azriel with single mom reader? I feel like being a single mom in ACOTAR would be tricky as hell... reader comes from autumn court and flees to night court because she got pregnant out of marriage? 😯 the shame

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Word count: ~950

Warnings: Nothing yet, maybe just a little angst

a/n: Okay I know this is a drabble but this is definitely getting more parts like I am attached to this storyline now and LOVE that you requested it 🤗

Read part two here

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You leaned against a pillar just outside the school, a twitch creeping up your hands until your fingers spasmed. You shoved them under the bend of your elbows, crossing your arms and biting into your lip. 

She was fine. 

She was more than fine—Velaris was safe. 

Anything would have been safer than facing your father’s wrath back in Autumn, but you had gotten extremely lucky with the timing of your escape. Falling pregnant with your daughter had not been in the cards, especially not after a single night of rebellion, but with Velaris’s doors opening up just days after your healer broke the news, something seemed to be written in the stars. 

But every day was still a gamble; your father could find you at any time. 

The past five years had been a miracle, if you were being honest. 

School was supposed to end two minutes ago. 

Your foot began to shake, popping your knee up and down and making your body vibrate with the anxiety that consumed you. 

You shouldn’t have let her go to school. 

Melanie only had a few friends—neighbor kids whose parents you had vetted extensively—but that had been enough for her to get the idea into her head. You had planned on homeschooling her, or at least waiting until she was a few years older before letting her out into the world. Unfortunately, that had not been Melanie’s plan, and Melanie had so many wonderful plans. As most five-year-olds did. 

Gods, what if—

“First day?” a rumbling voice made you pause your nervous fidgeting. The man spoke again. “If you’re worried, don’t be. The teacher is great. Just forgetful when it comes to time. They are typically a few minutes late every day.” 

You swallowed and turned around despite every voice in your head telling you not to. But those voices in your head were completely and utterly wrong about a multitude of things. Behind you, you found a man—an Illyrian—with wings an ungodly size and shadows swirling down his legs and onto a uniform pool along the ground. And he was gorgeous—unabashedly gorgeous in the most devastating way. 

You looked up from your blatant investigation of him, meeting his eye and stuttering out, “Oh. That’s… that’s good to know. Thank you.” 

If he noticed your stutter, he didn’t make any sign of it. Instead, the man with the wings and the shadows blinked several times, furrowed his brows, and took a step back as if to steady himself. Perhaps, if you weren’t a bundle of unreasonable nervous energy, you would have found his actions strange, but you were. So you simply offered him a superficial, airy laugh and uncrossed your arms. 

“I—” the man began, but he seemed to lose his train of thought, a heat traveling up his cheeks in a way that looked foreign. “I’m Azriel.” 

Oh, wonderful. Introductions. 

You tried your hardest to stay very far away from very many people. It was the best way to keep yourself hidden. You couldn’t avoid the neighbors, and you supposed you couldn’t avoid fae like Melanie’s teacher, but this was different. 

Shit. 

You offered your name, anyway, afraid of appearing too outlandish in an otherwise casual setting. 

It would be fine. 

This was fine. 

Azriel repeated it in a breathless way, but then the school bell rang and something seemed to click in his brain. The small smile that had curled up the corner of his mouth became hard and he shot his eyes quickly one way and then the other, inspecting your surroundings. 

Maybe this wasn’t fine. 

“Are you a new mom in the area?” Azriel asked. 

All of your nerves shifted to guarded unease. “I am,” you offered, not caring if it was almost a lie. 

“The moms here don’t usually do the pick ups alone.” 

“You’re doing a pick up alone, it seems.” 

“I’m picking up my nephew,” Azriel explained, relaxing his posture, making himself smaller, seemingly gauging the building tension. “I didn’t mean to come across—I just asked because the mothers here typically have help. From their mates or partners. From the father.” 

You bit the inside of your cheek, your next words tumbling out before you could catch them. “Well, I’m alone.” 

Double shit. 

Azriel seemed to let out a breath, his shadows whipping around along the ground. 

You braced yourself for further questioning, for the judgments that would surely follow, but then you were attacked from behind by a pair of arms wrapping around your knees. You turned quickly, scooping your daughter into a hug and promptly dismissing any further conversation with the stranger. 

“Hi, Mel,” you smiled, tucking her hair back as you subtly looked her over. “How was school? Did you like it?” 

“I loved it!” she excitedly replied. She rambled on a bit more after that, retelling her day by the minute. 

You felt eyes on you the entire time. A small boy had run and jumped into Azriel’s arms in your peripheral, but even as the boy talked and talked just as Melanie did, you felt the occasional glance your way. And some of Azriel’s shadows had to be reigned in multiple times, the small wisps licking at your ankles. 

The teacher suddenly spoke up and you were eavesdropping, straining your ears to listen in on her greeting towards the Illyrian.

“Oh, Azriel, lovely to see you. We were hoping the High Lady would be picking Nyx up, but this is even better. There is a showcase in a few weeks that—” 

You felt your world freeze. 

High Lady. 

You had been speaking to someone in close relation to the Night Court. You let someone know your name, told them you were alone with a child, and they had direct access to the High Lord and Lady. 

You whisked Melanie into your arms despite her protests and beelined it home. 

Shit. 

part two

[saistappen]

Paddock guests | MV1

In which you and your class visited Max at the track in Zandvoort.

warning : This is the second part of 'special guest' and you don't have to read the first part first, but it might make it easier for you because of the connections in this part. You can also find 'special guest' on my profile :)

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ALL EYES are on you and your class as you enter the paddock in a row of ducks.

Until now, it has never happened that countless six-year-olds in Red Bull merchandise and paddock passes around their necks have entered the paddock together with their teacher.

But that changes today. Having plucked up the courage a few days ago to save Max's number and thank the Dutchman for a great day in the lion class, you didn't expect the three-time world champion to invite the whole class into the paddock as a thank you.

"It's important that we all stay together. As you can see, the paddock is quite large and spacious, so we all have to stay very close together to get to the Red Bull Garage, okay? ", you look at your pupils one by one with a smile.

You can clearly see the beaming faces of your protégés and the anticipation of the day ahead.

Today is Friday, so there won't be too much happening at the track this weekend, so this is the perfect day for Max to show the six-year-olds where he works.

In a video message sent directly to the Lion class, he thanked them for the great day at school and invited all the students to his garage to take a look behind the scenes.

You're also looking forward to seeing everything up close, so you can hardly wait to walk over to Red Bull and marvel at everything up close.

"Then let's get going," you indicate to your charges with a smile.

As it is impossible to keep an eye on all the children alone in this spacious paddock, you are accompanied by a nice Red Bull employee who introduced himself as Mason a few minutes ago.

You're grateful to Mason not only for helping you keep the kids together, but also for guiding you through the paddock and getting you to your destination.

Because if you're honest, you wouldn't find this way on your own. The paddock already looks pretty big and expansive from the TV, but in real life it looks twice as big, so if you didn't have a clue, you'd be one hundred per cent lost.

Mason starts to run off in front, while the rows of two that the children have formed follow the Red Bull employee and you bring up the rear so as not to lose any children in the hustle and bustle.

Every now and then, a few employees or even drivers cross your path, who give you a big smile and greet and wave to your protégés in a friendly manner.

It doesn't take long before Mason comes to a halt in front of the Red Bull Hospitality and all the children gather in a semi-circle around Mason.

"We've reached our first destination. This is the Red Bull Hospitality. This is where we stay from time to time when Formula 1 is on a break..." While Mason begins to explain a little to the children, you start to take a few photos with your mobile phone to capture today's event not only for you, but also for the children.

"Max has another appointment, so it will be a while before he can show you all round. But I see you've all got rucksacks with you, which must contain your breakfast, right? " the Red Bull employee adds as you walk up the small ramp to the hospitality centre and shortly afterwards the sliding doors open to reveal a large room with countless tables and chairs.

A loud chorus of 'yes' answers Mason, who indicates to the children that they should find a place to have a snack to tide them over while Max has something to do.

You smile gratefully at Mason when the dark-haired man presses a coffee into your hand a few seconds later.

"The little ones are really adorable, " Mason enthuses as he sits down at a table opposite you.

Your students are sitting around you, talking excitedly and eating their breakfast.

" Yes, isn't it? " you smile and wrap your hands around the cup before taking a sip of the hot liquid. " It's really great of Max to make this possible for you. "

"Max is a really warm person, " Mason smiles and shortly afterwards starts to engage you in conversation, which you're really grateful for.

Because it's not just your class that's pretty excited and nervous about what's going to happen in the next few lessons. You are also really nervous and excited, but you try your best not to let it show.

—

"I hope the garage has room for you all," Mason turns to you and your class with a grin as he continues walking backwards.

You all sat in the hospitality centre for about an hour, where you ate breakfast in the back and then the children were allowed to ask Mason a few questions about the team and his duties.

Mason is part of the mechanic crew who look after the car before and after the sessions.

The children have listened attentively to his stories during the last lesson.

But now, the closer you get to the actual destination, you clearly realise how excited your charges actually are.

A smile plays around your lips as Mason starts to walk down the dark blue corridor towards the garage and begins to tell the children that Max and Sergio Perez always walk along this path to get to their cars.

A few seconds later, you finally reached your actual destination. The garage.

The six-year-olds fill the garage with amazement as they see the two blue cars for the first time.

A broad grin appears on your lips as you realise where you actually are. So far you've only ever seen this view from the sofa on your television and now you're actually standing here.

Apart from a few mechanics who have gathered at the front wing and seem to be making a few preparations, the garage is empty.

"As you can see, Max's car is on the left and Checo's car is on the right. Can anyone tell me what makes the two cars different? " Mason looks round with a smile, from which countless index fingers shoot up.

" Max' is faster! " Milan shouts formally after Mason takes his turn. Loud children's laughter from the class fills the garage.

"Milan..." you almost admonish the blond-haired man. Not because it's true, but because it makes you a little uncomfortable that Milan is more or less rubbing salt in the wound, because everyone knows that things aren't going as well for 'Checo' as they are for Max at the moment.

The Red Bull employee begins to scratch the back of his neck in embarrassment and seems to be struggling with the words. However, he can't seem to think of a suitable answer, so he looks relieved when Max suddenly appears.

The children happily start shouting the Dutchman's name, who gives each child a high five and then gives you a friendly smile, which you return.

" I'm glad you all came! " Max begins as he stands in front of the children and Mason disappears from the centre of attention and goes back to work. "As you probably already know, you're now in the place where I spend a lot of time. How about we take a closer look at my car? "

With a wave of his hand, Max gestures for everyone to come a little closer so that he can show the children his car in more detail and answer a few questions.

Excited, everyone moves a little closer to the car.

"Make sure you don't get too close to the car, will you? You remember what I told you this morning, don't you? " you ask the group.

"Don't touch other people's things!" your class shouts back in chorus, causing a proud smile to spread across your lips and Max looks over at you.

His lips form a wordless 'thank you' before he crouches down to be a little more at eye level with the children and shortly afterwards he begins to explain everything about the car and answer questions.

—

" Thank you very much for your efforts, " you thank Max as the Dutchman comes over to you.

A few minutes ago, you stood a little apart in the box so that you weren't in the way but also didn't lose sight of your class.

"Always a pleasure," Max smiles as he leans against the wall next to you and you look over at your class and Checo.

During Max's detailed explanations of his car, Checo joins in later and now the Mexican takes over to explain the steering wheel to the children in detail.

Sergio sits on a folding chair with the steering wheel in his hand, while the class sits in a semicircle around him on the floor and listens attentively to his words.

" It's really not a matter of course that you invited us all here. That really wouldn't have been necessary," you begin. You are really grateful for what Max does for you and especially for your class.

"It's nice to see the little lions again. And so I also have a reason to see your great teacher again. " Max winks slightly at you, causing the warmth to start shooting up your cheek.

Embarrassed, you brush a strand of hair out of your face and then slowly raise your eyes to look at the Dutchman.

Max's blue eyes are fixed on your face as his lips curve into a smile.

" I mean that seriously, " he adds.

" U-uh... thank you?" you stammer, almost caught off guard. Max's words were so surprising that you didn't even come close to having a perfect answer.

But that 'Uhm, thank you' didn't even make it any better in your mind.

The Dutchman, however, seemed to take this quite calmly, as a grin appeared on his lips.

"I didn't think I would succeed in making you so embarrassed. " Max takes a step closer to you so that you can clearly smell his aftershave.

Without meaning to, warmth begins to gather in your body, causing a warm feeling to spread through your whole body.

"But you succeeded. " Your voice almost sounds like a whisper, so you're not sure whether Max has understood your words at all, as children's laughter can be heard in the background.

" Max! Come here, you have to take over again," Checo calls out just as the Dutchman opens his mouth and starts talking.

"We'll talk later, " Max says in your direction, before he runs over to Checo and, together with Checo, begins to explain the racing gear to the children and, shortly afterwards, one or two of the children put on Max's and Checo's helmets.

And while Max sinks back into his element and makes sure that the children have an unforgettable day, your thoughts are permanently with Max and his words, which you won't be able to get out of your head any time soon.

—

Countless new impressions and information and a completed first free practice session, which you and your class followed live, the day of your visit to the paddock at Zandvoort slowly comes to an end.

A satisfied but also exhausted smile is on your lips as you watch Max hug each child goodbye and have a few kind words for each of them.

You’ve been impressed all day today by how well the Dutchman has dealt with the children and how much time he has really taken for each of them, even though he has a tight schedule and is certainly quite exhausted.

It's sweet to see how some children wrap their arms tightly around the Dutchman and don't want to let him go.

Even for these children, he takes extra time to talk to them quietly and whisper a few words that you don't understand.

And then the Dutchman is suddenly standing in front of you, while all the children are already waiting with Mason at the exit of the paddock.

"Thanks again, Max. Not just for today but also for the visit to the class. That really meant a lot to us, especially the children," you thank the Dutchman again.

"I was happy to do that," he replies with a smile and pulls you into his strong arms to say goodbye, which takes you rather by surprise.

It takes you a few seconds to break out of your little stupor and carefully wrap your arms around his middle.

"I hope we meet again. You've got my number," he whispers in your ear as he hugs you a little closer.

"We will," you assure him.

A tingling sensation begins to awaken in your body and your whole body is slightly electrified.

But before you can really savour the feeling, the Dutchman has already pulled out of the embrace.

"Then I hope you won't say no to that. "

Confused, you look at Max, who pulls something out of the back pocket of his trousers and shortly afterwards presses another Paddock Pass into your hand.

You frown in confusion. The Paddock Pass in Max's hand looks exactly like the one you already have around your neck. What is he trying to say?

Max must clearly see your confusion, because the Dutchman begins to grin slightly before he starts to speak.

" I'd like to see you in the paddock for the next two days so that we can spend some more time together. But only if you want to, of course. "

He starts to scratch the back of his neck nervously while he waits for your answer.

" I'd love to! " you say quickly as you take off your paddock pass and hang it around your neck.

And if someone had told you back then that it was the beginning of a relationship, you certainly wouldn't have believed a word they said.

[cherryredstars]

Idk what wrong with me but I've been craving some highschool oneshot, or anything tbh

So I hope if u could do badbad!Miguel x goodgirl!nerd?

I have no idea what I meant by goodgirl!nerd,let just make her an good girl who always an big time nerd in the school,who loves helping people out,especially when it come to tutoringor tutor some students,so when miguel ask for her to tutor him,so he could catch up with his grades,she say yes to him,but he really didn't need the tutoring he just wanted to play around with reader (he would been craving for some of her attention,he would have an interest in her without anyone notice) he loved teasing,flirty, and most definitely love making her all stuttering and blushing mess,but what he hate how people who think that have their advantage over reader,eye fucking her with their eyes,it just makes his blood boil,his fist clenching in anger,but he deals with them later (beating tf out of them for thinking that they can touch what his) but not feeling satisfied he just had to show u who u belong to,and make you his,so on one can try to get u before him

Idk what wrong with me like I can write when I'm zoned out (also could u pls put nfsw pls)

Anyway have an great day

Pairing: Badboy!Miguel O’Hara x Goodgirl!Reader

Warnings: Protectiveness, Suggested Physical Fighting, Smut, Slight Exhibition, Marking, Praise, Lots of Curses and Mentions to Disney

Summary: All good boys go to heaven, but bad boys bring heaven to you. (Get it..like the song)

A/N: THIS REQUEST IS SO!!!

Word Count: 4.5K (Barely Edited)

It doesn’t take much to notice you. 

He sees you all the time, sitting in the front like the good little girl you are. Batting those innocent eyes up at every teacher as you shoot your hand up to answer every question with a bashful smile. Eyes you as you go up to different students, reminding them of tutoring sessions or offering help. His good little girl just wanted to make sure everyone graduates with passing grades. Just want to be so helpful for everyone, to feel needed. He could make you feel needed. Only if you’d let him, only if you needed him as much as he needed you. 

When he calls your name, your head shoots up instantly to turn to him. Your cheeks heat up when your eyes meet his, a smirk spreading on his face. He calls you over, finger forming a ‘come here’ motion. You instantly obey, getting out of your seat and standing over his desk. You flutter your lashes shyly at him, fingers fidgeting together as you try to kill the redness on your face. Miguel hums lazily, hand reaching out to play with a strand of your hair resting on your shoulder. Your hair is soft and silky against his fingers, his eyes watching as it twirls around his fingers.

“Tutor me.” He says simply, eyes blazing a lazy trial up to your face. His expression is one of boredom, except his eyes are glistening with mischief. 

The eye contact makes you flush deeper, face practically a tomato as you refocus your gaze to his ear to avoid his gaze. A stuttered response leaves you, uncertainty masking your voice as you ask him what he needs help with. The question momentarily pauses his movements. Truthfully, he doesn’t need help with anything. He has a high class rank, closely following behind your up and coming valedictorian title. In the end, he replies with science, a class he has a perfect grade in. You instantly agree, shyly giving him a time and day to go to the library for his sessions. 

He always shows up a few minutes early, you find him on his phone as his feet are propped up on a secluded table with his chair leaning on its back legs. A lazy smile crosses his face as he watches you walk over, not caring for the science workbooks you set down at the table. You try your hardest not to meet his gaze, finding it hard when he sets his feet down and leans closer towards you as you explain the material in quiet, stuttered sentences. He simply hums along to your explanations, not really listening as he brushes his shoulder against yours, accidentally grazing your hand when he points to a random paragraph, pressing the side of his knee against yours under the table. 

Each touch makes you stop talking, body tensing as a flush covers every inch of your skin. His touch burns against your skin, causing your voice to waver and fingers to tremble. He drinks in every reaction, interrupting your explanations with questions whispered too close to your ear in a flirty tone. They’re questions he already knows the answers to, but he just wants to keep hearing you talk and stutter. He’ll make you late to your next tutor session with a pout, teasing that he still doesn’t understand what you’re trying to teach him. It always causes your eyes to soften towards him and make you promise that you’ll move your schedule around to make room for a sooner tutoring session. It always causes Miguel to puff up with pride at his clever antics and for his heart to beat faster at the thought of spending more one-on-one time with you. 

When he’s not with you in his lovely tutor sessions, he keeps his eye on you. He watches you in the cafeteria as you offer someone your lunch because they didn’t bring any money and don’t have anything to eat. He smiles slightly to himself whenever you get stopped by an underclassman and you fuss over making sure they get to the right class and don’t end up lost in the halls. He gets slightly annoyed and furrows his brows when you hold the door open for a long string of people and only a few of them acknowledge your kindness with a thank you. You’re just so nice and he wishes he can have that sweetness of yours all to himself. Especially when he sees some random ass fuck trying their go at you. Because, of course you’re not just nice and smart, you’re a total fucking knockout. 

You have the sweetest little face paired with a body any man would get on his knees to worship, (a thought Miguel thinks about very often in the comfort of a bathroom or his bedroom), the shiniest fucking eyes that always blink up at everyone like they’re the most interesting damn thing you’ve ever met, and a voice that drips of honey and hidden sex appeal. And if it isn’t your looks that instantly draw them in, it’s that perfect personality of yours. Always kind and patient and funny. You’re always walking with someone in the halls, making everyone you’re with laugh and crave to be the subject of your attention. You’re a goddamn magnet, and everyone wants to be connected to you. You’re the type of woman that would convince any man to settle down, to drop to a single knee and ask you to be his for life. Because everyone knows that you’re a once in a lifetime girl and no one will ever come close to you. Every boy (and some girls) in this damn school wants a chance with you. 

And that pisses Miguel the fuck off. Because while you’re wife material, most boys here don’t even meet the requirements to be considered boyfriend material. Sleezy fucks who want a trophy wife that will suck them off after they come home from some meaningless job that they sit around all day doing nothing at. Immature cunts who think they’re funny when they poke fun at insecurities and claim it's a joke. Disgusting toddlers in overgrown bodies who don’t deserve to be in the same universe as you are. But, of course you’re still nice to them, and of course they think it means they have a chance with you. 

Miguel is always clenching his jaw and preparing his fists whenever he walks into the library to meet you after one of your earlier sessions to see some disney channel-looking fucker trying to sweet talk you. Key word being ‘trying’, because he can tell from a mile away that you’re still trying to be patient even though your body language screams ‘I am so close to slapping this boy with my textbooks’. The thought makes Miguel snort out a laugh that instantly dies as he watches some Zac Efron wannabe lean closer towards you. The asshole’s eyes instantly drop to your chest, where your textbooks are causing your boobs to be pushed together, revealing the most mouthwatering sight. Miguel’s eye is practically twitching when the dude’s slimy fingers come to run down your arm with the ugliest smirk Miguel has had the displeasure of seeing. 

Miguel doesn’t hesitate to walk over, walking slowly as he stops at the end of the table with a bored and displeased expression on his face. The boy, who’ll probably end up as a drug addict in his 20s, looks very annoyed at his presence. Even muttering something about Miguel being a ‘cock-blocker’ under his breath. The retort makes Miguel lift his brow in surprise. He didn’t know Mickey Mouse Junior even had a dick. Must be one of his magic mousekatools, he concludes. 

Miguel ignores him, instantly turning to you. The grateful look on your face as you stare at him makes Miguel puff out his chest, proud of himself for making you feel better. His body loses the tiniest bit of tension as you smile softly at him. “He bothering you, princesa?”

You instantly widen your eyes, moving to shake your head when Donald Duck speaks up, “I think you’re the one bothering her, actually.”

He must have been a mosquito in his past life, Miguel thinks to himself, it would explain why he’s so fucking annoying. Miguel turns over to Shrek’s brother and stares him down. The boy instantly looks like he might piss his pants, but keeps his position as much as his wobbling legs can, “I think you should leave Miguel. I’m sure she’ll be…preoccupied for the next hour or two.”

His comment makes you cringe from the applied meaning and Miguel sees absolute red. He has to laugh at what this fucker thinks would have happend if Miguel didn’t show up. Yeah right, like this motherfucker could last that long. Miguel grabs the front of his collar with a tight grip, almost pulling the poor boy over the table. A vein is visibly running down Migue’s neck as his jaw clenches. 

“Puta madre. Cuando termine contigo, no podrás tocar nada nunca más.” Miguel grinds out, shaking the worthless piece of shit slightly before turning towards you in a nicer, softer tone, but still laced with a bit of tension: “Go find us a nice table, hermosa. I have to take care of something real quick.” 

You can only nod, watching as Miguel leaves with the boy out the back entrance of the library. You wince slightly as the door closes rather loudly, feeling a bit of sympathy for the boy who most likely won’t schedule another tutoring session once Miguel comes back. You spend the next 20 or so minutes preparing the secluded table Miguel likes best. Laying out all your books and supplies, sitting still and then getting antsy and shifting things to straighten them every few minutes. 

When Miguel finds you, he walks over with his hands in his pocket. He looks just like he did a few minutes ago, his hair just slightly disheveled. Your heart might have actually stopped when his hand leaves his pocket to grab yours that are drummin nervously on the wooden table. His hand is rough compared to your soft one as he bends down and brings it to his face. His lips are soft, if not slightly chapped, when he presses a fleeting kiss to your knuckles, mumbling an apology for taking so long as he stares into your eyes. Your eyes are wide as you stutter out reassurance that it’s fine. Miguel simply hums before dropping your hand and going to sit down. He pauses when your small hands grab his once again.

Your thumb strokes over the redness and slight purple color of his knuckles, something that definitely wasn’t there when he first came in, hinting at what happened outside of the library building. A slight crease appears between your brows and your lips are in a sad pout.Your eyes don’t leave his hand when you mutter, “You’re hurt.” 

Your concern makes Miguel slightly happy, liking the idea you care for him. He slips his hand into yours, bending back down as his hand goes under your chin to lift your face. Out of sight from peering eyes, he presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, mkay?”

Your stuttered and shy state makes him smile, muttering how cute you are as he finally sits down. You have to clap a hand over your mouth to conceal a squeak when Miguel grabs the seat of your chair and pulls it closer to him, practically connecting the edge of the chairs. He casually throws his arm over the back of your chair, not doing any dramatics like faking a yawn or stretching. You stare and blink at him, nervousness bubbling in your stomach as he leans in closer. “Are we going to start or what, mami?”

He keeps his smile to himself, watching as you clear your throat and scramble to open your science textbook to where you had left off the last time. He just sits and watches, fingers ghosting over your shoulder gently, feeling nothing like the other guy. He listens to what you’re saying faintly, pointing at some diagram in the book. He thinks you asked him a question because you stare at him patiently, yet expectantly. He turns to you, shrugging, “Can’t see the model clearly.”

You nod, moving to push the book closer to him before his hands are on your waist. He leans fully back into his chair as he lifts you off yours and into his lap. He pulls the book in front of the both of you, head resting on your shoulder as he hums. “That’s better. Now ask the question again.”

Your brain stops functioning for a second, Miguel’s hands leaving your waist to rest against your legs, fingers slightly caressing the side of your thigh. Your nervousness makes you squirm, and his hands instantly grab onto your thighs tightly with a hiss. He grinds out for you to ask the question again, but he doesn’t sound aggressive. His voice sounds more pained and desperate. You nod with a gulp, hesitantly reasking the question that he pretends to think about before answering correctly just to hear your praise. 

As you continue talking, Miguel’s fingers rub the skin just below the ending of your skirt. You try to ignore the touches, but your body melts against his front as your voice quiets and you shift your body slightly to press into him. Miguel’s breath tickles your neck and your thighs clench as a single finger slips under the material of your skirt. It just barely skims over your panties, and your breath hitches. Miguel smirks at your reactions, asking you what’s wrong as he slowly moves your leg so it hangs over his leg. You’re a stuttering mess, brain malfunctioning when his hand comes back and caresses the crotch of your panties. Your cheeks flush, knowing it’s damp in arousal. 

A quiet groan leaves Miguel as he moves your panties to the side, letting his fingers rub against your bare pussy. Sticky fluid instantly clings to his fingers and his head turns to press kisses against your neck, his free hand coming up to your chin to tilt your head to the side for more room. Your hand comes down to hold his arm, eyes closing as the tips of his fingers tease your entrance. When he hears your slight whimper, he looks up to your face and pulls his fingers away, moving them to trace circles in your inner thigh. 

The small sound you make in protest causes him to chuckle, “Shh, shh. Keep talking, baby. You’re supposed to help me, remember?”

You open your mouth to protest but his fingers are back, this time slowly sinking into your heat instead of just teasing with his fingertips. Your eyes instantly close again and you let out a shuddering breath. You open our eyes, trying to focus on the words in the book. When you begin to read and explain a scientific equation, Miguel’s fingers reach knuckle-deep into you. You can hear the muffled sound he makes as he continues to suck and kiss your neck. Your weak explanation is cut off when he pulls his fingers back and pumps them into you, curling his fingers. The beginning of a moan is let out before your hand clasps over your mouth. Miguel laughs evilly as he continues moving his fingers. 

You're sure this is a game to him. Everytime you stop explaining things, he stops and tells you to continue. But once you start talking, his pumps and curls his fingers faster, causing you to cut yourself off when sounds of pleasures. You’re a mess by the time you finish your explanation, hips grinding into Miguel’s hand and fingers clutching to the edge of the table for stability. 

Once you say your last words, Miguel speeds his fingers up and bites into your neck, “Good girl. Gonna give you a reward for being such a good girl for me, yeah?”

You don’t hesitate to nod, face screwed up in pleasure as you reach closer and closer to the edge. Miguel leaves your neck, licking the bite soothingly before tilting your face back towards him. He muffles the loud moan you make as you gush around his fingers with a deep kiss. He bites and sucks on your bottom lip, eyes closed and brows furrowed as he savors the taste of your lip gloss. His tongue swipes over the seam of your lips, causing you to part them as his tongue explores your mouth. 

His fingers move to lazy pumps, working you through your orgasm before stopping completely. Your body shakes slightly against his, and he smirks into the kiss before pulling away. His fingers reappear from under your skirt, covered in your white cum. You both watch as he part his two fingers, white strings connecting the two. You let out an embarrassed whimper, watching as Miguel brings them up to his mouth, licking them clean. Your taste instantly floods his mouth and he practically rolls his eyes back. Of course you’d taste so fucking sweet and delicious. His fingers leave his mouth with a small pop, hurriedly coming back to kiss you again. A shy moan leaves you at your own taste. 

Miguel’s hand moves your other leg, spreading you out fully so both of your legs are pressed into the sides of his thighs. His hand leaves your chin and scoots you further up his leg, working on undoing his jeans just enough to stick his aching cock out of his underwear. The head is red and leaking, precum sliding down his length. His hand comes to pump himself before he moves you back over him, his cock resting against your ruined panties. 

“Move your panties to the side for me, yeah?” He mumbles against your lips. You comply instantly, pushing your panties to one side, moaning when Miguel takes a hold of his cock to align it with you. He pushed slowly into you, his hand releasing his cock to hold onto your thigh and to cover your mouth as you continued moaning out. He throws his head back with a choked moan the moment he bottoms out, holding still to bask in the way your tight cunt swallows him and squeezes around him. 

“Feels so fucking tight. Feels like I’m in heaven.” Miguel hisses out, his hips thrusting into you experimentally. 

The cutest of mewls leave your mouth, causing Miguel to nose your cheek almost lovingly. He takes his time, lazily thrusting into your pulsating pussy in an attempt to hold himself back. But he’s wanted this for so long. He’s wanted to touch you, to kiss you, to just be near you since the moment he laid eyes on you. And he’s here, in the goddamn school library, and you’re letting him fuck you as you sit on his lap. It feels like a scene straight out of some fucked-up erotica or porn video. Would it be too much if he started thanking you until he’s a babbling mess?

A strangled noise leaves Miguel when you start fucking bouncing on his cock, impatient with his slow speed. Instinctively, his hips speed up. The sound of wet squelching filling the small, unoccupied section of the library. Anyone can walk over, some poor student or librarian in need of a book only to find his good girl riding his cock so desperately. The thought makes his balls tighten and he has to distract himself before he blows his load into you too soon. He buries his head into the curve of your shoulder, shifting the hand that covers your mouth to stuff two of his fingers past your lips. Without even asking, you start sucking on them as you lift your hips up and down. 

“Good girl. Good fucking girl, princesa.” Miguel praises into your ear, his hand leaving your thigh to pinch and play with your neglected clit. It causes you to squirm and for your steady riding to falter. “Oh fuck. Taking my cock so well, yeah? Taking it is so good for me. Holy fuck!” 

More curses leave his mouth as he pounds into you, shifting his hips until he hits that gummy spot inside of you that causes you to wrap your arm around his neck to hold on for dear life. Your pussy just keeps quivering around him, milking him for the cum you so desperately need to be filled with. The cum he wants to fill and claim you with. The thought of you walking out of the library, hell going to tutor another student, with his cum flooding your pussy and dripping through your panties is something he’s fantasized about for months. His pure, innocent girl tainted with how dirty she is by fucking him of all people, in a place where anyone can see how naughty she really is.  

“Miguel!” 

The sound of your muffled call makes his eyes snap open from their closed position, He looks up at your face, watching as a line of drool drips from your stuffed mouth. He has to groan and give you deep thrusts as a thank you for the pretty sight. As he thrusts, he realizes how much your walls have contracted, practically trying to trap his cock inside you. He notices how much your body is beginning to twitch and he knows you’re close. Your eyes look hazy and the muffled moans you let out add on to how close you must be to coating his cock. 

“Wanna cum on my cock, love? Gonna cum and make you all mine, yeah?” He whispers into your ear, slowing his fast thrusting in exchange for hard and deep thrusts that cause you to whine. You desperately nod your head, babbled and incoherent nonsense being said around his fingers. 

Miguel let out a low chuckle, speeding up again and relishing the happy noise that vibrates in the back of your throat. Your walls clench around him like a heartbeat for a few blissful moments before you're screaming around his fingers as your back arches and thighs shake. Miguel moans as he feels you cum around him, the lewdest noises coming from your wet cunt as he hammers into you for his own release. A sweat builds up on his face as he drives into you, trying to push in and out of your tight walls that only seem to tighten the more he thrusts. 

“That’s my good fucking girl. Came so beautifully around my cock.” He mumbles, looking down to where the two of you are connected to see the most gorgeous white ring at the base of his cock. He can feel himself twitching inside of you, on the brink of exploding. 

Miguel bites into your neck as one last act of claiming as he spills into you, his hips not stopping as he pumps you full of his seed. A delirious moan comes from you as you feel his warmth, but you seem happy as you melt into him. Your skin is sticky from sweat, arousal, and Miguel’s saliva when he pulls his face away from your neck. The bite mark is red against the purples beginning to stain your skin. He can feel himself getting hard again at the sight of it, but he refrains from taking more than what you’ve already given him. 

He lifts you up slightly, moaning as a mix of cum slowly falls from your hole, dripping onto the underside of his semi-hard cock. It drips down, merging with the cum that still sits at the base of his dick. He makes you stand between his legs, your upper body pressed against the table as you try to recompose yourself as Miguel lifts up the back of your skirt to study your glistening pussy and thighs. He pressed a small kiss on your pussy lips before readjusting your underwear to cover you again. A proud smile graces his lips as he watches the previous wet spot in them get darker from the cum still trying to leave you.

When he pulls the skirt back down, he finds you looking over your shoulder with a shy look. His beautiful good girl is back to her doe eyes and flustered cheeks. Miguel tucks himself back into his underwear, zipping himself back up. He takes the time to lazily look around, amazed that no one realized what was happening or witnessed it. He stands up off the chair, looking back towards you and wraps one of his arms around your middle to pull you up against his chest. 

The tiniest of squeaks leaves you as you meet his hard chest again, looking up at him with amazement. You can’t help but study his face, admiring the way his lashes flutter as he blinks and the way he looks good from even this angle. HIs eyes look down at you briefly, a lazy smile coming over his face as he shakes his head. He works on packing up your things for you, closing the unneeded textbook and stuffing it and your other supplies back into your bag. When he’s finished, he shifts his face down towards you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. 

The sappy smile that appears on your face makes his heart beat fast and for his own cheeks to heat up. He gulps and clears his throat, looking away as his hand starts rubbing the skin it rests over. He slings your book bag over his shoulder, the pastel color of it a large contrast over his entirely black attire. He stares back down at you, pushing hair out of your face and tilting his head at you. 

“Do you have another tutoring session to go to now?” He whispers softly, smiling when you shake your head no wordlessly. He hums in pleasure, his arm sliding from around your center and down to your hand, dwarfing it in his. He gives it a tight squeeze and pulls you with him as he starts walking towards the exit. You follow him with no resistance, just hurrying your pace to keep up with his long strides. 

“Where are we going?” You ask as the afternoon sun instantly hits both of you when you walk out the door. He pulls you straight to his car, opening the passenger door for you and closing it before putting your bag in the backseat. You watch without question through the windshield as you buckle in and he rounds the car to go through the drivers’ side door. After he buckles in, he turns and starts reversing, not answering until he’s out of the parking spot and turning the wheel back to straighten it. 

“Imma take you home so you can change.” He says simply, turning to throw you a quick smile before grabbing your hand again and intertwining them as he clutches onto the gearshift. “And then, I’m going to take you out on a date.”

Part 2

Literally the longest thing I’ve posted because I love this request so much! I now reached 100 pages in my writing doc. As always, SpanishDict was used.

[irisintheafterglow]

[bernie sanders voice] i am once again.. thinking about coparenting megumi with boyfriend!satoru.

"so you're both megumi's..."

"guardians," you smile politely, praying stupid shit doesn't leave the mouth of the boy next to you. it's wishful thinking.

"yes," he beams so tenderly that you resist the urge to scrunch your nose in disgust. he takes your clammy hand lightly in his and turns back to megumi's teacher. "we had him young." a soft ow comes from under satoru's breath as you kick him under the table, forcing an expression of normalcy onto your face.

you hated parent-teacher conferences because it reminded you just how abnormal megumi and tsumiki's situation was. they had no parents, nor did they have any close relatives that cared for them the way a family should. that left you and the white-haired idiot in the tiny seat next to you to fill in that duty, and between missions and training students, you weren't around as often as you wanted to be.

"i...see," the teacher says hesitantly, eyeing your boyfriend with obvious unease. after a moment, she regains her composure and refocuses on you completely. "is there anything you wish to discuss before we begin?"

"not for me, no."

"when can we get him bumped up a grade? or have him skip one altogether?" every single word that comes from satoru's mouth is a joke but it still has your face burning with embarrassment that you were associated with him. "you know, i skipped a few grades when i was young."

"i can tell," you whisper and he pinches the flesh of your thigh between two fingers in defiance.

"i believe that skipping grades would be unwise at this time, as we haven't done any testing yet-"

"he was kidding, i swear," you say apologetically and, thankfully, the teacher continues as if on a script.

"i see. well, megumi is progressing wonderfully in the class. he's very adept at reading and writing, but he does struggle with math sometimes. it's nothing to be worried about; many children struggle with math at his age." you nod in understanding but grimace inwardly. megs always wanted you to help him with math homework since satoru became frustrated with the problems faster than the actual 2nd grader.

"for being the strongest, he's not that smart," megumi stated bluntly one night while you helped him on a coffee table in the teacher's lounge. you'd sent satoru on a walk around campus after his distress was clearly bothering megumi, who ended up suffering more from satoru's "help" than benefiting. "you're not around that much anymore to help me so i don't know what to do." his tiny eyebrows furrow and you reach out to run your fingers through his spiky black hair.

"i'm really sorry i'm not around as much anymore. do you want me to ask nanami? he handles math all the time."

"i think that'd be worse than satoru."

"you can't get much worse than satoru, buddy," you concede and his mouth turns up a little bit. nothing like a little insulting his mentor to get the boy's mood improved. still, his frown returns like it's his default expression.

"what if i can't do it? what if i'm not like everyone else?" it made your chest ache in a different way when megumi or his sister said something like that, like they were well aware that they weren't normal children. your heart panged for them and mourned their loss of a "normal" childhood just because they were born into a big three clan. it wasn't fair and it was something you lamented to satoru almost every week. you couldn't tell the boy any of that, though, no matter how much you wanted to explain why he wasn't like the rest of the kids in his class.

"just try your best, okay? sometimes, that's all we can do. you're already doing great by asking for help. it's not your fault if someone doesn't know how to help you, so just keep trying." he nodded determinedly; after another hour past dinnertime, you finally finished walking him through the rest of the problems while satoru draped his lanky body over the couch behind you, watching defeatedly over your shoulder.

"is there anything we can do to help him with math?" you ask, unconsciously weaving your fingers with satoru's and giving it a light squeeze. he squeezes back three times. i-love-you.

"he just needs a little reassurance that he's on the right track sometimes."

"mmm, don't we all," you murmur and you don't expect the teacher to laugh softly under her breath, muttering her agreement. before you know it, you've organized megumi's papers into his folder and picked him up from the playground outside his classroom, taking his hand as you walk back to the car.

"your teacher says you're doing well in class."

"really?"

"mhmm, though i didn't need her to tell me that since i already know." you shoot him a small smile, leaning into satoru's body as his arm wraps around your torso. "you, however, need to learn some manners," you lightheartedly tease, knocking your elbow against his abs. "you were not helping in there, you menace."

"it was boring, what do you want me to do?" his tone is so carefree, so comfortingly satoru it made your heart melt.

"it's a parent-teacher conference, not parents. you could have waited outside if you were so bored. went to play on the playground or something." his head dips close to your ear and you feel some strands of his hair brush against your skin.

"but then i don't get to watch you be all mature and put-together."

"trying to follow my example?"

"trying to break your composure," he corrects with a sly grin. "i'm the fun one, after all."

"that's one way to put it," megumi deadpans without hesitation and you stifle a snort.

"i'm one of a kind!"

"you're out of your mind, is what you are." before he can protest, you press a kiss to his cheek and he turns a slightly opaquer shade of pink. "but i wouldn't have you any other way."

[marvelobsessed134]

Life imitates art

A/n: whewww this is one of my favorite things I ever written

Pairings: Beefy!Art Professor!Natasha x Fem!Student!Reader

Warnings: age gap (not specified), Nat has a dick, smut, blowjob, degradation, painting a nude person, reader being that nude person, pervy Nat (?), student/teacher dynamics

Okay so you’ve been failing your art class in college. But it’s really not your fault you’ve just been so caught up with your other classes that you’ve been slacking off.

And of course your professor noticed. Natasha knew she had to talk to you after class because you were one of her top students and now you’ve fallen off the deep end.

So after the lecture and after everyone leaves, leaving their canvases up to dry, the redhead calls you to stay after class.

You walked towards her desk with a nervous feeling in your stomach. You know you’re gonna get some kind of lecture of your own.

“Yes Professor Romanoff?” You asked in a sweet tone hoping you won’t be getting into any trouble with her. Not that she’s a mean professor per se but when a student fails she makes them do an extra project to get their grades up. It’s almost like she loves to torture people!

“Miss Y/n you’ve been failing very miserably in my class. Any particular reason why?” She asked.

You gulped, “Well…you see professor I’ve just been so caught up in my other classes that I’ve kind of been slacking on this one but-“

“So is my class not important to you?”

“No! It’s very important to me I love art and I love painting but I have these two big tests coming up so I haven’t had the time to finish my projects and you know I don’t do half assed work when it comes to my art.”

The redhead smiled a little bit at that, “Yes, which I do admire and appreciate but I’d like you to put more effort into my class.”

You looked down at your feet shamefully, “Yes Professor Romanoff.” You sounded like a scolded child.

“Well,” she stood up and walked over to her empty easel and put a large blank canvas on it. She also put a chair right behind it.

Then she walked back over to you. “You know how to get your grade up in my class. But instead of you painting I want you to be my model. Can you do that?”

The thought of you being her model made your flush, “I guess.”

“Great. Now strip off your clothes.”

“W-what?”

“You heard me. I’ve personally always wanted to have a live nude model in my presence to paint so nows my chance.”

“Professor Romanoff…this is highly inappropriate im your student plus you’re like a decade older than-“

“Do you want those grades or not detka?” The nickname gave you a shiver down your spine.

“Yes I do but-“

“Then do as I say and take your clothes off.” You quickly complied, shakily pulling your shirt over your head and unclasping your bra. Your shoes, socks, jeans, and panties came off next.

“Go sit on that chair over there.” She pointed to the chair that sat in front of the easel. You took a deep breath and walked over to sit down. Your arms resting on the armrests and your legs clenched together.

As Natasha got set up behind the easel she said, “Don’t hide your pretty pussy from me baby.” Your eyes widened at her words but you complied. Desperate for the grades, you slowly spread your legs. Unfortunately you were embarrassingly wet.

It’s no surprise you have a crush on your professor. She’s beefy with a pretty face and exudes dominance. Her shirt sleeves are always rolled up to her elbows and her slacks fit her perfectly. Along with the occasional blazer she wears.

Unbeknownst to you she noticed how wet your little cunt was and smirked.

She began to paint you, taking in every breathtaking detail of you.

You felt so vulnerable in this position. Sitting naked in front of your fully clothed professor as she painted your naked form.

She didn’t even bother to try to hide the erection in her pants, because she knew you felt the same way about her. It was only a matter of time before she could finally taste you and have her way with you.

Once she had gotten most of the painting down-she can finish it later she will remember every inch of your body-she walked over to you.

You sat up straighter, not daring to close your legs. Natasha towered over you and looked down at your pretty perky nipples and your wet pussy.

“I think my model needs a reward for being such a good girl don’t you think?” She asked and you sucked in a breath.

She tilted your chin up with her index finger, “Yes or no babygirl.”

Oh you knew it was wrong so, so wrong. But you found yourself saying, “Yes.” It came out as a whisper you were surprised she even heard it.

The redhead smirked, “That’s what I thought.” She got down on her knees, her hands sliding up your bare legs before she licked a bold strip against your pussy. You moaned, throwing your head back at the little piece of friction you just got.

“If my student didn’t want to get naked for me then…why is she so soaking wet?” As she said this she ran her finger up your folds. You hissed in response.

“I know you’ve wanted me since the first day of class. Don’t worry, I want you too.” She kissed the inside of your thigh before licking your folds again, eating you out with such passion that you forgot where you were.

Her mouth attached itself to your clit and you gripped her hair tightly as she sent you closer and closer to the edge before you drenched her face with your release.

“Oh god!” You moaned breathlessly.

“You taste so good detka. Care to return the favor?” She asked with a cocky smile. You immediately got on your knees in front of her and unbuckled her pants, pulling them and her boxers down to free her large cock.

Your eyes widened at the size and you wrapped your hand around her shaft and began to jerk her off.

“I wanna see those pretty lips around my cock baby.” She commanded dryly.

You gulped before wrapping your lips around the tip and sinking down onto it, bobbing your head up and down and jerking off whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

Natasha gripped your hair as you sucked her off. “Such a slut for me huh. Who knew you’d be so eager to taste my dick.” Your pussy was dripping onto the floor both from your previous orgasm and your arousal at the mere action of sucking her cock.

“Shit baby I’m gonna cum.” Your professor moaned before shooting her load down your throat. “Ah fuck that’s it swallow it.”

You swallowed it all and pulled of her cock, opening your mouth to show her you did in fact take it.

She caressed your chin, “Such a good girl. Come over here.” She made her way to the chair you were once sitting on and sat down. Her cock still sticking up in the air. She unbuttoned her shirt and pulled it off revealing her abs. Your mouth watered at the sight and you quickly made your way over to her.

The older woman smirked, “Ride my cock baby.” It was a simple command that you were more than happy to obey.

You straddled her waist and sunk down on her thick cock, moaning at the stretch.

“God you’re so tight.” She hissed as she gripped your hips and started moving you up and down her length, treating you like her own personal toy.

You were a moaning mess, rolling your eyes at the back of your head as she continuously hit your g spot. “Oh fuck professor! Feels so good!”

“Yeah? Oh god who knew my student wanted to be slutted out so bad.” She also thrusted her hips up as she moved you. Your hands gripped her muscular shoulders.

The only sounds that could be heard in the room were the sounds of skin slapping, moans, and grunts.

“I’m gonna cum again fuuuuck.” You cried.

“Cum again for me sweetie.” You reached down to rub your clit as you were sent to a land of ecstasy.

You clenched around her cock and your vision went white for a second. You absolutely drenched her cock.

“Oh yeah drench my fucking cock. I’m gonna cum again.” She quickly pulled out of you and forced you on your knees. You watched as she jerked herself off till she came on your tits.

“Holy fuck. You’re unbelievable.” Natasha breathed and you giggled.

“Did I get the grade?”

“Oh yeah you got the grade. And if you keep this up then you’ll be passing every exam too.”

[cupcakeinat0r]

A Nerdy middle-aged loser Miguel w a dad bod who teaches your genetics class.

He has a huge crush on you even though he knows he shouldn’t but how tf couldn’t he????

With the way you always walk in a minute or two late, making the whole class look at you as you strut in with your quiet “so sorry!” and your cute little outfits that show off the best parts of your body.

Miguel’s eyes would follow you and the way you set down your bag, whipping out your computer, ready to absorb all the knowledge that Prof. O’Hara has to offer like a sponge. He usually has to stand behind his podium because watching you hang onto every single one of his words with those parted, glossy lips and curious eyes made him embarrassingly hard.

Or the way you took notes, your cute little organization of colors and annotations. Your kindness in giving notes to your peers because you wanted to see everyone succeed. Even though you may not have looked like it, you were a smarty pants, too. And he found that extremely hot.

During his lecture, he’ll sometimes catch you applying lip gloss or fixing your hair in your compact mirror and think to himself how gorgeous you are and how lucky your boyfriend that you totally already have is.

Cuz there’s no way he could pull someone like you. Those days are over for him. Plus, you were way out of his league.

But he can’t help but have a sliver of hope every time you leave class with an adorable smile and small wave.

“Thank you so much, Professor O’Hara! Great class today!!”, your praise never ceasing to make him slightly flustered on the inside.

Before you, he totally fucked his own hand like everyday. He’s a lonesome man. But now that you were in his life? That man goes home everyday, imagining his had is your luscious, tight cunt, replaying your cute voice in his head over and over again.

What he has no idea is that his praise has the same effect on you.

Anytime you had a question or were worried that you weren’t understanding a concept, Miguel would comfort you, with the most gentle words and voice.

He was such a cute man. It’d be so easy to praise him and baby him, telling him he’s sooo smart and such a good teacher.

His well-kept black hair w tiny hints of gray throughout, his black rimmed square glasses, his little cashmere sweater + button up combos that hugged around his broad chest, enormous biceps, and pudgy belly. He was sooo dreamy. He made it so hard to focus.

You’d go up to his desk after class needing clarification on a topic. He’d tell you to sit down, eager to help you with the class (or anything ever, he’d do anything for you if it meant keeping you).

His cologne would fill your nose as he bends over the table, a strand of hair falling on his forehead, pushing his glass up his nose as he towers over you as he explains what ever it was you were confused about.

It never helped because you never caught a single word. You were too busy imagining his soft stomach rubbing against your back as he bends you over the table, plowing you while saying those sweet words of encouragement into your ear.

And those veiny, hairy arms and hands wrapped around your waist as he bounces you on his fat cock, making those adorable glasses of his fog up.

“Don’t worry, sweetie, you’re doing great, as always.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, sweetheart.”

“I know, mama, It’s a hard concept to grasp, but you’ll get it. I know it.”

It made you scream on the inside. You wanted so badly to be a good student for him so that he could talk to you this way every single class.

Pt.2 here!

Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!

[xuhuihuis]

And Stretch | Xu Minghao

warnings: mirror sex, dry humping, unprotected sex, praising, degradation

synopsis: After many attempts of trying to get a space with the top yoga teacher of the town you finally get your chance. There is much more of a bond between you both when it's just you both in the room...

@jenoslutie thank you for everything you have done 😭 that sexy mind of yours is insane

It wasn’t often that you got to have a private session with your yoga instructor. Minghao, as he was one of the top yoga teachers in the city. All you had to rely on while waiting for an independent session were the group sessions he offered weekly, but still, they filled up quickly. You sat there with your laptop at 7:30 p.m. to book in before it was too late. All of this was for a good reason; in addition to being a great teacher, he was beautiful. He was tall, mysterious, and had the most beautiful, lean arms.

 During his classes, he made sure to give each and every one of you personal attention, but it was much more intense and personal when you got to have a one-on-one session with Minghao. You tried your best not to drift off and fantasise while in class, but it was so hard when he was this handsome. You sat there, trying your best to listen to him describe the next position, but your eyes trailed down his beautiful neck to his toned arms out on full display.

 You mentally kicked yourself for that, considering you were behind the rest of the class now, and Minghao could now clearly see you in the crowd of bodies. He silently looked over his shoulder to double-check that you were okay. Shortly after the class ended, you very hastily gathered up your stuff to be out of there as quickly as possible. Is your chance at a private session gone all because of you? Does he now hate you? Your mind was full of possible scenarios with your yoga instructor on the way home. Regretting everything that happened in the class and mentally cursing yourself for screwing up this bad.

Silence. Finally, Sitting there, basking in the feeling of finally being able to do nothing and feeling no emotions at the same time before swiftly picking up your bag and heading back inside. The orange of the sunset flooded through your windows, bouncing off of the walls as you walked back to your room to shower. The silence of your house contrasted with the rush of thoughts and adrenaline, though your body created one deadly mix. 

Clicking the shower on and then stripping off your clothes one by one, trying your best to think about anything other than him. In the past, you have tried other yoga teachers, but none are as good as Minghao; he really is a master at work. You had to spend most of your shower fighting off the thoughts of what it would be like to have Minghao’s hands all over your body, rubbing the soap into your body. Taking his time teasing you just to laugh at you being so needy for him. 

Surprisingly, the rest of the night went calmly as you had the chance to distract yourself from your thoughts with other things. Sinking down into your couch with dinner in one hand and your laptop in the other, searching for something to watch. But it wasn't until you were halfway through eating your meal that you got a notification on your laptop.

One free-space, private session with Xu Minghao

Nothing could describe the look on your face nor the way you jumped to book into the one space. Finally your time has come but at what cost? What will he say when he sees you walk through those doors the next again day. The thump of your heartbeat flooded your hearing as you clicked on the button to confirm the booking. Your fate is in your own hands and can only hope for the best when you walk back into the studio the next day.

The rest of the night was spent getting everything ready for class the next night to look your best for Minghao. Deep down inside of you there was this giddy feeling that you were getting the chance to finally have the time with him with no one else to bother you nor get in the way of any conversation. Even going to bed early was part of your plan to make tomorrow run as smoothly as it can. Tossing and turning all night but the only thing on your mind was Minghao and his perfect body. Only dreaming of what his fingers would feel like inside of you.

Surprisingly everything went well the next day just as planned. Everything ran smoothly at work and the drive back home was somewhat peaceful, but the burning thought of spending two hours with Minghao was starting to creep in. Your knuckles go white gripping from gripping onto the steering wheel so hard without you realising but you quickly snapped out of your daydream.

The nerves started to kick in as soon as you parked your car and went to change out of your work clothes into the ones that were laid out last night for today's session. As you were getting dressed you couldn’t help but dream about what his reaction would be as you walked through those doors dressed up just for him. Deep down you knew this was wrong but this was the one chance that you had for this monumental class. Silently making a promise with yourself not to fuck it up in any way. Quickly grabbing your keys and bag before leaving your house with adrenaline running through your veins at a million miles an hour.

Whispering small words of encouragement to yourself in an attempt to calm down before the long, antagonising drive to the studio to be met with him;

Xu Minghao.

You rolled the window in the car down in an attempt to get some fresh air into the vehicle to give yourself the chance to breathe but nothing was helping. The closer that you were getting to the yoga studio, the more your hands started to sweat and a lump in your throat started to form. But you started to get slightly excited at the thought of meeting Minghao once again, letting your eyes trail over his perfectly built body.

“Now isn’t the time to think about him.” You grumbled to yourself, mentally kicking yourself for even letting your mind wander whilst driving, but he was almost too perfect not to. Reality finally hit you as soon as you pulled up and parked in a space, the anxiety and anticipation hit you like a wave. Taking a moment to yourself before stepping out of your car trying to focus your mind before getting out of the car heading to the entrance. Every step was filled with more anxiety and dread wanting to turn back but you couldn’t let an opportunity go like this, could you?

“Welcome!”

A voice interrupted you from your thoughts. The receptionist greeted you with a wide smile but was met with nothing in return from you, trying to not let people see or hear the anxiety dripping from you. Fuck. Turning around to the sight of Minghao finishing stretching through the glass door behind you. It took all the will power inside of you to walk into that room and make conversation with him.

“Oh, Hello Y/N…!"

Man, did he look beautiful.

Minghao was dressed so casually in a tank top and sweatpants, giving you the perfect view of his defined arms. Letting your eyes trail down his perfectly sculpted body, Minghao was the embodiment of the word perfect, to the point he didn’t even seem real to you. Luckily you caught yourself getting lost in his body before he did, thanking yourself that he didn't.

“Shall we get started?” Minghao smiled before leading you further into the room.

Surprisingly, the atmosphere between you both isn’t as tense as you thought it would be after what happened when you saw him last. The sunset flooded in through the floor to ceiling windows, giving the room an orange haze. You sat your mat just behind him making sure that you had the perfect view of Minghao in the mirror. He gently smiled at you before starting to instruct you how to stretch.

“Reach down to your toes for me…” Minghao instructed, watching as you took a deep breath in before stretching your arms up and then leaning down as far as you could. The muscles in your thighs tensed up before you could reach your toes making it harder to move any further. You let out a disappointed sigh as he came over to help you. Embarrassing yourself was the last thing that you wanted to do now that it was only you and him in the room but he didn’t mind helping you, it was his job after all.

“Let me help you, Darling” Immediately you stopped breathing as you felt his hands trail down the side of your thighs with his feather-like touch. Even over the fabric of your leggings it felt like he was touching your bare legs, treating you so gently. His lean frame leaned over yours to help you with the stretch making it less painful for you. No words were exchanged by the both of you, only making the tension increase.

The adrenaline was running wild which only made it harder to think and justify your further actions. All this because of him doing his job? Were you the one in the wrong here?. It only made you worse when the thoughts came flooding of him pounding you in front of his mirror with everyone being able to hear and see what was going on. He laced one of your hands with yours to help you back up like the gentleman he was.

“Are you okay, Minghao?” You frowned, noticing his dazed look which was different from the Minghao you’re used to seeing. But little did you know that Minghao was fighting the same demons with you at that moment but he had to try and keep it professional. Will people see if anything happened between you both? As the sexual-tension increased over the session it only made it harder for him to keep this going without going insane. He didn’t want to lose his job, but he wouldn’t mind if it was for you.

He had to take a minute to calm his inner self before guiding you into the next position. He gulped harshly as he instructed you to get down onto your hands and knees on your mat as he walked over once again to help you. To him, you looked so beautiful with the orange of the sunlight hitting off of your skin which only let his mind trail.

“Arch your back for me.”

Your eyes involuntarily widened when he asked you, it was for the benefit of your own body right? Arching your back as far as you could until you felt the tightness in your back. Your hands were now clammy with your own sweat waiting on Minghao saying anything or helping you. He just stood behind you looking down at your frame fighting his inner demons. As he kneeled down behind you, his eyes trailed down your back and landed at your ass. He didn’t want to look like a creep but it was hard when you were just this beautiful.

A small gasp left your lips as his large hands held onto your waist slightly pushing you down until your ass was perfectly pressed up against him. The once calm breathing in the room has now turned into heavy, staggered breathing as you both tried to fight the urge. As you looked into the mirror, you caught sight of how beautiful you both looked right now.

If only he was inside of you right now.

You gulped harshly as you grinded back on him and you felt how hard he really was, it must've hurt so much. Surprisingly he gripped onto your hips tighter to hold you closer to him as you started to rock your hips against his trying to get any noises from him. It was difficult for you to hold back on your noises as he felt so good rubbing against your clothed cunt. You could feel his cock twitch underneath his shorts as you rubbed against every inch of his cock.

“Are you sure that you want this?” Minghao’s voice came out in a rasp. Looking into your eyes in the reflection of the mirror as he held your chin. He came to a still as he waited on your answer as he wouldn't continue without your consent. You saw how much love and admiration was behind his eyes as he waited on an answer from you. A slight smile creeped into Minghao’s face when you gave him the go ahead.

Tilting your head to the side as his plump lips left a trail down your neck, ghosting over your most sensitive areas. You bit down on your bottom lip to try to keep your noises low, not that it helped anyways. The thrill of having someone catching you in the act made the situation much more thrilling. Muffled groans erupted from Minghao as he felt your hips rub against him again but this time it was different. Now you could finally give into any urges that have built up inside of you both for too long.

His hands trailed down the front of your leggings and down to your clothed cunt where you gasped in surprise feeling two of his long, slender fingers rub at your clit. Very slowly his fingers circled around the fabric as he watched every little reaction from you. Minghao held onto you when your knees gave up for a moment as you got too carried away with the euphoric feeling.

“You are being such a good girl for me” The praise sounded so sensual coming from his lips, his deep sultry voice that once guided you through yoga moves is now teaching you another way to stretch. Feeling yourself completely at his mercy as your body goes limp against his hold, anticipating what is coming next. His fingers hook underneath the waistband of your leggings to pull them down and reveal your panties to him, and your soaked cunt.

“Please, Minghao” Your begging caught him off guard, the desperation in your voice made his cock twitch in his shorts. He was now seeing you as much more than just one of his clients which filled his mind with more fantasies. It would be so different if he had you back in his own bed without having to worry about other eyes watching you both. The poor man was aching to be inside of you but your pleasure came first. One hand pushed you down onto the mat between your shoulders whilst the other pushed your panties to the side.

Minghao was such a sucker for your whines and whimpers, finding them so beautiful. His slender fingers trailed up and down your cunt collecting arousal. He was holding himself back for his own sake, he didn't want to ruin his first time with you. Taking his sweet time with you preparing you for his cock. The poor man almost came in his shorts as you moaned when he slid one finger inside of you. All you were aching for was the feeling of his cock inside of you, reaching places no one else has never felt.

You rocked your hips against his finger practically begging him for more before you gasped at the feeling of the second finger. Clawing at the mat below you trying to anchor yourself but the feeling was too good. Your eyes fluttered shut enjoying the sweet stretch of his fingers rubbing against your walls, occasionally bumping against that sweet spot inside of you.

Suddenly all the pleasure came to a stop, bringing you out of your lust field haze. Turning your head around to Minghao who has a large grin on his face looking deep into your eyes. You wanted to slap him at that moment but you knew he was close to giving you what you both wanted. He wanted the first time that he made you cum to be on his cock. The room was hot and clammy, making the situation much more messy to be in. Not even the hot yoga rooms were this hot.

“Give it to me, Minghao…” You begged, eyes pleading him the best you could. Minghao finally gave into your whines as he didn’t want to fight you anymore. He has always dreamed of what it would be like to have you underneath him begging him for more. Dreams really do come true don't they?

You couldn't help but look as he stepped away from you to get rid of his shorts. You felt your body getting hotter at the sight of his cock, despite being painfully hard inside his boxers, he still kept his composure so he could take his time with you. Gently taking a hold of your hips until you were held against his body with no distance between you both.

“Can you be a good girl for me?” Minghao asks you directly, looking deeply into your eyes as his clothed cock keeps teasing your clit making it harder for you to concentrate. His grip tightened on your hips until his knuckles were white, holding you down on the mat. Your back was arched so perfectly it made for the perfect height to meet his hips with every thrust. Through the mirror Minghao was holding eye contact with you very intensely, if you dared to look away he would pull your direction back to the mirror.

Minghao sighed in relief when he finally moved his boxers enough to free his cock from the confines of the fabric. Running his tip along your clothed clit, wincing at the sudden pleasure. He peeled the fabric of your soiled panties to the side, finally revealing your bare, dripping pussy. Fuck. He could feel his mouth watering at the sight of your bare cunt, only dreaming of what it would feel like to be inside.

“Fucking take me like the slut you are” Minghao was now babbling to himself as he slowly drove his cock into your cunt. He couldn’t help but let his eyes roll to the back of his head with how warm and wet you were. Nothing could describe how ecstatic he was at that moment. Gripping onto your fragile body like his life depended on it. He took a moment to take in everything that had happened, he will never forget his first time with you. Your cunt swallowed him perfectly in all of the right places, making it harder to keep himself together. The last thing he wanted to do was to cum too early and ruin the precious moment.

Minghao was too fucked out to hear what you said to him the first time. Immediately he snapped out of his daze, almost panicking if he hurt you in any way.

“More Minghao” You repeated, at that point you were too desperate to care how you sounded, but Minghao gave in to you straight away. Moving slowly at first dragging every single inch of his cock along your walls smiling as you fight to hold yourself up. Minghao stepped in to help you, using what power he had left to hold your limp body up.

“I’ve got you princess” The man held onto you tightly as you let your head fall onto his shoulder.It was so difficult to keep your own eyes open but you wanted to take as much of this in as possible. With every slight flex or tense of his muscles you found him much more attractive. It was addicting to watch as he thrusted harshly inside of you getting you closer to your orgasm with every thrust. Bouncing in his lap like a doll, his perfect doll.

“Wanna cum for me?” Your eyes widened in shock, thinking you heard him wrong but he was right. Finally you get to cum around him, getting to let yourself go completely numb in his hands. His breathing was more sporadic as he got closer to his orgasm, working you both to the peak. Minghao whispers praises in your ears calling you all sorts of beautiful names helping your orgasm come quicker. It’s when he snakes his hand down to rub at your clit that your orgasm hits you hard. Minghao holding you as your own body shaked intensely, tightening around his cock even more. No sooner was his orgasm triggered, he tried to pull out but your cunt was too warm. Long white ribbons now buried deep inside of you keeping you warm and full.

For his first time he didn't think he would be coming inside of you but he loved it. Your body was limp against his, you were like a dead weight. Still shaking so much he took one thumb to your cheek and started to brush the apple of your cheek as a way to calm you down. He smiled at you letting you come down from your high at the pace you wanted. The last thing he wanted was to ruin the experience this late. Even though it just happened Minghao couldn't believe what he just experienced, it was the best dream ever for him.

“Same time next week?”

[girllblogging777]

𝐵𝑅𝐸𝑊𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐻𝑂𝑃𝐸

↳ mattheo riddle x fem!reader (angst, slight fluff)

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1,5k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : you’re forced to work with your ex boyfriend on a potions project. (“you don’t hate me ?/could never hate you”)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

if there was one thing every wizard knew about the world’s infamous mattheo riddle, it was that the brown haired boy was a professional at holding grudges. ever since the two of you had broken up against your will a couple of months ago, leaving your soul hollow and your heart shattered, he had been avoiding you like the plague. as if you hadn’t once been his other half, a fragment of his soul, your relationship was buried deep, replaced by an usual facade of sarcasm and bitterness.

breaking mattheo’s walls down had taken time and patience from you, the result of years of slowly trying to earn his trust and make your way into his heart. however when you two called it off, his demeanour completely changed. in the blink of an eye he’d become closed off and distant again, nonchalantly deciding to ignore the way the two of you could’ve had it all if he hadn’t thrown it all away.

“get over it, it’s been months already” the voice in your head echoed when you found yourself analysing the situation for the hundredth time instead of focusing in class. without noticing, your attention had completely shifted from professors snape��s monotonous potions lesson to the one and only boy that occupied your mind, and it seemed, your heart too. straightening your posture and leaning back in your chair, you brought your focus back to what your teacher was saying.

being about to raise your hand to tell the professor that he’d forgotten to pair you up for the upcoming potions project, you were interrupted by a loud sound coming from behind you. there was a boy, entering the classroom in the middle of the lesson without a care in the world. no other mattheo riddle, the one and only brunette who perpetually clouded your thoughts.

“glorious entrance as always, mr riddle. you sure know how to stand out” bitterly declared the teacher, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. you restrained yourself from turning around, the sudden shift in the atmosphere sending tingles down your spine. over the past few months, it had become a habit everytime the familiar brunette boy entered the room. “i was just about to pair up the last student for the upcoming project” pursed snape while mattheo casually sat down in the back of the class.

and there it was. the realisation. “given your delay, you won’t have a choice. you will have to work with mrs delarose.” your shoulders tensed at the sound of your last name. of course he had to pair you, the perfect and smart student, with your troublemaker ex boyfriend. “so much for getting over it” you thought, anxiously biting your bottom lip and thinking about the consequences of snape’s decision. the rest of the classroom had already moved on and began writing down some notes, leaving only you and mattheo reeling at the though of having to face eachother again.

✩✩✩✩

hours passed slowly until the sun finally set on hogwarts. the walls of the castle echoed with the sound of students heading to the great hall, but you had a different destination in mind. holding your potions textbook tightly in your arms, you made your way to the astronomy tower, a place that once held beautiful memories, but now only reminded you of what you had lost.

you hesitated at the bottom of the staircase, your heart hammering in your chest. you knew mattheo would be up there, waiting, and the thought made your breath catch. but there was no escaping this and snape had made sure of that. when you finally reached the platform, you found mattheo already there, leaning against the stone wall. he didn’t turn around, but you knew he was aware of your presence. the silence between you was thick and almost suffocating.

“we should get started,” you finally said, breaking the tension that hung in the air. your voice was steadier than you felt, not giving away how nervous you were feeling about finally talking to him again. “yeah,” mattheo replied, his tone void of emotion. he turned to face you, his eyes dark and unreadable. “let’s just get this over with.”

you nodded, trying to focus on the task at hand. without even properly greeting eachother, the two of you sat down and got to work in silence, the only sounds coming from the soft bubbling of the potion. despite the close proximity, it felt like there was a barrier of unsaid thoughts between you. as the potion simmered in the cauldron, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. his face once so familiar, seemed distant and unapproachable. you wondered if he ever thought about what you had or if he had truly managed to bury it all under his layers of indifference.

“why did it have to end like this?” the question slipped out before you registered it, your voice barely above a whisper. you weren’t sure if you wanted him to answer, or to brush it off like he usually did. mattheo froze, his hand hovering over the cauldron. for a moment, you thought he might not respond and that he would continue to pretend you didn’t exist. but then he sighed softly and spoke up.

“because i thought it was for the best,” he said quietly, not meeting your gaze. “but i was wrong.” your heart skipped a beat at his admission, causing it to beat a little faster. “then why are you still pushing me away?” you asked, “why are we still doing this?” mattheo finally looked up from the cauldron, his eyes betraying the emotions he’d tried so hard to hide. “because it’s easier to be angry than to feel the pain,” he confessed. “i thought that if i hated you, it would make it easier to forget. but i can’t.”

the raw honesty in his words ignited something inside you, and before you knew it, you spoke up again. “you don’t hate me ?” mattheo stared at you, his expression torn between surprise and guilt. for a long moment, he didn’t move, as if he was replaying your words in his head. “i never hated you. never have, never will” he confessed in a whisper.

the words hung in the air between you and you felt a tightness in your chest ease just a little, like a weight lifting. "then why did we have to go through all of this?" you asked, your voice soft, not accusing but genuinely curious. "why did we let it get this far?"

mattheo closed his eyes, running a hand through his hair, struggling to find the right words. when he opened them again, he looked at you with regret. "because i was scared," he admitted, "scared of how much you meant to me. of how much losing you would hurt. scared of bringing you into my dark life, or making you my father’s target.” he confessed, taking deep breaths. “so, i thought if i distanced myself and if i pushed you away, it would make it easier. but it didn’t. it just made everything worse."

“i didn’t want that. i never would’ve pushed you away because of who you are.” you declared, mattheo’s eyes searching yours as if trying to see if you were genuine. then, he muttered. "i don’t want to keep hurting you," he said, his voice low and rough with emotions. "and i didn’t want to break up with you, i just thought… i thought you deserved better and i was being selfish”

you felt a spark of hope, something you hadn’t felt in a long time, and chuckled. "you were selfish for stealing my chocolate bars and for wanting me to give you scalp massages all the time. most of all, you were selfish for breaking up with me" you said simply, offering him a small, tentative smile. "but never for thinking you didn’t deserve my love."

he let out a small smile at your familiar banter and for a moment, neither of you moved. the reality of what you were saying seemed was too fragile to touch. and could at any moment. but then mattheo reached out, his hand hesitating for just a second before gently taking yours. the touch was warm, grounding, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a sense of peace.

"really ?" he said, his voice soft but filled with curiosity. you nodded, squeezing his hand lightly as he looked at you to make sure you meant it. "really." you echoed, the silence of the night wrapping itself comfortably around the two of you.

you realized that while the past couldn’t be erased, the future was still yours to make. maybe the universe (and mattheo) would try to keep you away, but you’ll always end up coming back to eachother no matter what. that was just the simple truth, mattheo riddle was your person, and you were his.

“i’m still expecting chocolate bars and scalp massages, though…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

a/n : for the person who made a request to @tateshifts !!! please like/comment/reblog and don’t hesitate to give requests <3

tell me if you want to be tagged when i post ! @shiftingwithmars @dexoq @elsie-bells @larmesdevanille @redeemingvillains @helendeath @jolly4holly @fluffycookies22 @fbvreadingblog @icantkeepmyplantsalive @moonlightreader649 @myunperfektstorys @iris-qt @clar2aa @reys-letters @yikesitslush @bellatrix-lestrange5 @chelawrites @sp7-mr

[nanivinsmoke]

Hello nani!! I just wanted to say I just read your all of me logan x reader and I love it! Was wondering If you could do logan x reader smut with the song ride by somo (been having it in my head for a while) but if you can't that's fine keep up the awesome work love!!

Ride .

✩ logan ‘wolverine’ howlett x mutant!femreader

♪my body on your body baby, stickin like some glue…♪

✩ you usually don’t sleep with your coworkers, but during this mission….the tension between you two becomes unbearable.

✩ tags: nasty, slutty sex, sex in a car, riding, oral sex, creampie, rough fucking, everything is slutty when it comes to him, jealous logan, you are a teacher at the Xavier school for the gifted, added some plot too, you can control any form of matter, liquid is your fave tho…

✩ note: hello! thanks for the req, anon this song choice 🙂‍↕️ I’ve got freaky followers! also had xmen/x2 wolverine in mind. song at the bottom of the page!

Charles left you in charge for today, something he does once every two months with his head teachers. He did it so you guys could gain experience and know how to take charge if something ever happened to him. It happens more frequently than you’d think.

Before you, it was Storm and she did an amazing job. Everyone loved her as the school’s professor, there were less accidents within the school and more mutants had come too. Unlike Scott, who was more brutal with his approach, leading to some students leaving the academy. Charles was upset and even though he didn’t show it, everyone knew it.

However, unlike those two, Logan was a little more reckless with his approach. There’s was fight breaking out almost everyday, but those same fights were mended that same day they happened. Plus, tons of students joined just because they heard THE Wolverine was there. He might’ve been a dick most of the time, however he had a heart.

And that’s why you decided to partner up with him for today’s mission. Well, that was partially true. In all honesty you had the biggest crush on him and you wanted to get the opportunity to be with him all day. Hoping to get the chance to jump his bones.

You entered the conference room with a smile, your chunky, patent leather boots echoing against the wooden floors; turning your coworkers attention over to you. Your hair flowed beautifully as you made your way in front of the round tables cleaning your throat while looking at their faces—your eyes lingering on Logan’s a little bit longer, before you spoke.

“Charles left me in charge for this month. For my very first day, i expect great results! In order for great results to happen, we have to put in the effort. I compared the results from the last couple of months. Logan and Storm, the two of you were outstanding. Quantity of students and Quality of missions were in our high range, however with you Scott……we were very low.” You turned your attention over to him, watching his body tense up and earning a chuckle from Logan.

You cleared your throat before continuing, “This isn’t to bash anyone, but to help us grow as a school and as teacher’s. These mutants come from all over to us because we understand them. They want to be comfortable and not reminded of their past lives. So, in order for this all to happen, im giving you all new partners.” There was some whispers as they turned to look at their current partners.

“Storm and Jean, you two are together. Hank and Nightcrawler, Scott and Colossus. Logan?” He pulled out his cigar and connect his eyes with yours.

“You’re with me.”

The two of you walked side to side as you approached the school’s parking lot passing the variety of cars, on the way to your own. “So, what’s this mission about?” He spoke from behind you, his eyes following your hips as you walked, trailing down to your ass and how heavy it looked in those black leather jean’s you were wearing.

“We’re looking for a mutant named Cupid and no he’s not the blonde bitch from Olympus.” You cursed, earning a chuckle from Logan.

Finally reaching your car, Logan was amazed at your taste. Your car was a matte black dodge charger, with lightly tinted windows and matching leather seats. He hopped in the passenger seat while you occupied the driver’s. “Tell me more about this love bastard,” now you were the one to chuckle. God was he hot.

“Cupid’s been causing a lot of issues in city, he currently resides in a small town and the mayor has asked for our help. His powers are based on two emotes everyone has. Love and Hate. He can control a person based on those emotions.” You pulled out of the lot, driving to your mission’s destination.

“Now, we can either do this Charle’s way or my way.” He turned to you, with an eyebrow raise, puffing on his cigar.

“And what way is that?”

“You’ll have to wait and see, baby~”

The car ride was quiet, besides your radio playing and the sound of his breathing while puffed on his cigar. However, Logan took glances at you from here and there. Watching how your eyes would gleam as the sun hit it, how you would bob head to the songs you liked, and those lips….god your lips looked heavenly. He could stare at those all day, wishing he could kiss them forever.

“Logan?” You called out and he snapped out of his days, looking around before looking back at you. “You okay? We’re here.” You raised an eyebrow and he nodded, the two of you stepping out of the car and approaching the apple green house.

You lead the way, while Logan watched your back. Those hazel eyes stuck on your derrière. “I don’t know exactly how he uses his powers, so just be on your game, Lo.” You turned your head slightly, giving him a small smile before turning around to knock on the white door. A few seconds after, a male appeared wearing a ruby red robe and blue boxer’s, pinching his nose as he sniffed.

You turned to look at your partner before back at the mutant. “Are you, Ezekiel?” You asked, a smile on your face while Logan wore his usual resting face. “Depends, are you the cops?” He asked, eyes falling from yours and onto Logan’s before going back to yours. You shook your head and smiled once more.

“Do you mind if we come in? We aren’t going to hurt you, we just wanna talk.” He said nothing, studying both of your faces before turning away; letting you both in. You followed after him, looking around his house—trying to understand him before speaking with him. Logan watched as the kid plopped on his messy couch, pulling out a small trinket and sniffing the contents. He let out an exasperated sigh and locked eyes with Logan.

“Want some?”

“I’m good, bub.” You finally joined them and sat down in the small chair across from him, Logan opting to stand besid you—cigar in the corner of his mouth.

“We’re from the Charles Xavier school for the gifted mutants. We heard about the little trouble you’ve been causing here.” He looked at you and relaxed on the couch, smirking.

“Trouble? I just help those that needed it, isn’t that what you do? I heard about this school….this Xavier guy seems like a quack. Not interested, but if you lose the top, I might be convinced.” You could sense Logan’s mood change and you held your hand out, letting him know that you had this. Guess it’s time to do it your way. Sorry Professor.

You slowly undid the buttons that held your black button up together, freeing some of your cleavage, making both Logan and Ezekiel look at you. You stared at him, smirk etching onto your face while you used your powers on the cocky mutant. He started to choke and gasp for air, causing Logan to look at him and then at you.

“Listen, do you want to die? These people are going to get fed up with you quite soon and when they do, they won’t stop until they hunt you down and have your dumb blonde head on a stick. But why wait for that when I can do it myself?” Your tone was cold and your eyes had darkened, scaring the mutant. His pale face was turning a shade of pink and Logan was getting worried.

“Princess….” He started off, but you held your hand out again. “What do ya say? Want me to kill you? Or will you let us help you and keep you safe?” You released the pressure on his throat, letting Ezekiel catch his breath. He nodded and let out a breathless okay, and you smiled; quickly buttoning your top back up before standing on your two feet.

“Good, see you at the school. Logan, give him the card.” You said leaving the two men in the house. Logan dropped the card onto the dark oak coffee table, before looking at the mutant.

“Dude, she’s crazy!”

“Tell me bout’ it,” He muttered on his way out.

You sat in the passenger seat while Logan drove, looking out the window, in complete silence. There was some obvious tension there and you were trying your best to find out why.

“Logan? Is there something wrong?” You turned and looked at him, eyes dancing across his face. He was silent and then he looked at you, his mouth painted with a scowl.

“Yeah there is.”

“What is it?” He said nothing and you continued to look at him, before he pulled the car over on the side of the road, putting it in park and turning it off—unbuckling his seat belt along with yours.

“Think that was okay? What you pulled back there? Showing him what’s mine?” Your eyes widened and you could feel a throbbing sensation below, you crossed your legs in your seat and kept your face unreadable. Seeing you show off your breasts to the mutant had Logan seething, those were for his eyes only. You were his.

“Did Cupid use his powers on you? You okay.—“ He cut you off and pulled you by your hair, forcing your face towards his and pressing his lips onto yours—which you happily accepted. His lips were so intoxicating and you couldn’t—didn’t want to pull yourself from them. Finally getting what you wanted and when he pulled away, spit trail following, you whimpered; eyes plagued with arousal.

“Logan…” you whispered and he chuckled. “I know princess, I can smell how much you want it.” He patted his lap and you practically hopped out of your seat and into his lap, reconnecting your lips while grinding against his bulge that pressed into your middle.

Both of your hands roamed each other’s bodies, kissing and licking on each other’s sensitive spots, the car steaming up from your actions. Soon, you couldn’t bear the teasing anymore and you slowly pulled your clothes off; your top along with your bra being flung into the passenger seat—while you continued to occupy his lap.

His large hands cupping your breasts, earning a soft moan from you, before he replaced his hands with his mouth; his warm tongue glued onto your sensitive nipples. You couldn’t help your moans, hands tugging on his hair, lower half grinding on his clothed cock.

“Please Lo….neeed you to fuck me,~” You begged, moaning when he put your nipple in between his teeth, teasing it lightly.

“Gotta taste you first. Get that pretty ass in the back, princess.” You happily hopped in your car’s back seat, tugging your jeans off your thighs while he climbed in the back right behind you, pulling the jeans completely off of you—putt them with the rest of your clothes.

He eyed your half naked body, licking his lips while he trailed down from your face to the wet spot that appeared on your dark grey panties. “So wet for me. Never give this pussy up, okay?” He spanked your clothed cunt, making you yelp out and nodded your head; bottom lip between your teeth—watching his every move.

He pulled off his leather jacket, and unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down to his ankles; his muscles practically ripping through his beater. Both set of lips flushed with wetness, ready for what’s to come next and when he connected his mouth with your sopping wet cunt after tearing those panties off ya—your eyes immediately rolled back into your head.

Logan’s own eyes closing after tasting you, savoring how sweet you tasted. He had been thinking about this ever since he met you. He had fantasized about you every night, dreaming about you cumming all over his face. And now here he was, fulfilling his wish.

His tongue lapped up your juices like he was a dog drinking from his bowl, sucking on your throbbing clit; making you let out a series of moans—hands connecting with his hair again. “F-f-fuck….feels soo good, Lo’.” He hummed in response, lips still attached to your cunt while he added two fingers into the mix, pumping in and out of your wetness.

You were a babbling mess, moving your hips up and down; almsot riding his face—orgasm seconds away and you desperately needed to let go. “Gonna cum for me princess? Go ahead, cum all over my face. I need to taste how gushy this cunt can be.”

He was so nasty with his words, you couldn’t help but to let go; cumming all over his face and creaming on his fingers. Logan didn’t stop lapping up your juices or fucking your with his fingers, he kept going—wanting to drain all of you, until you had to beg him to stop. You pulled him up by his hair and smashed your plump lips on his, tasting yourself—moaning while he palmed your still throbbing cunt.

You pulled away and pulled his boxers down by the hem, freeing his cock; his eyes glued to yours as you immediately went to rubbing on his head. His translucent slick melting into your hands while you rubbed and jerked his mushroom tip. You watched his face contort with pleasure, his hips slowly pumping up into your fist.

“Stop teasing me, princess.” He let out a small whimper and you felt a heartbeat shoot through your core after hearing it. Logan watched as you spread your legs across his lap, squatting and angling his dick at your entrance—lowering yourself down and hissing from how he stretched you out. He was so big, pushing your walls past its normal limit. It had been a while, but none of them had ever reached his size.

“So big…” his hand fell on your hip, fingers grasping onto your ass, holding you when you finally lowered down onto him all the way.

“I know baby, but you can take it.” He slapped your ass making a slutty mewl leave your lips. You stayed like that for a moment, cunt clenching and unclenching around him before you started to bounce on him. You gasped as his tip practically kissed your cervix, his dick so deep inside of you.

But, as you continued to move, that threshold of pain vanished and was replaced with pleasure. You happily bounced on his dick, skin clapping with each move you made; his lips ghosting yours as your face was mere inches apart.

“Just like that, princess….shit,” You were so fucking tight and wet, cunt so slippery, creating a sheen of wetness on his cock. The mutant never had anything like this and he wasn’t going to give it up to anybody.

“Showing off those pretty titties to other men? Fuck, i could kill him. Want me to do that?” He grunted, pushing your hips down, making you take him even deeper. You shook your head and gripped onto his muscular shoulders, keeping steady as you bounced.

“N-no…I'm sorry, daddy! Fuck—you’re reaching so deep, Logan!” You were clinging to him so tightly, the man was losing it. He pushed you all the way down, big rough hands gripped your waist, while his tip was pressed right in your cervix—before he scooted halfway off the car seat and pushing your torso closer to his, proceeding to drill your cunt sloppy.

The loud squelching noise combined with your sweet noises was enough fuel for the wild mutant. Your ass jiggling with each movement, rocking the car as you bounced. You were close, so close now and he felt it. Felt how your walls were spasming around his girth and how louder your moans got when he hit that spot over and over. And he was right behind you too.

“Let it go, princess. Cum for daddy~” His voice was deep and sensual, adding to the intense pleasure you were receiving—making it easier for you to cum. You were seeing white as you came; nails digging into his shoulder blades while gushing all over his cock.

And as he continued to split your cunt in half, his own release came down hard and he was pumping milky white ropes inside of you. He growled in your ear, sending shivers down your back and straight to your cunt—earning a stream of clear arousal from it, drenching his cock and the seat beneath him. You had never squirted before and with Logan being the first, had you deeper in love than you were ever before. You were his for the taking.

After cleaning you up and helping you get dressed, Logan left you in the backseat of your car before starting the car up and continuing with the drive to the mansion. He kept his eyes on you in the rear view mirror, watching you as you slept; a smile etched on his face before he placed a cigar into his mouth.

He was in love and he was never going to lose you. You were his best rider after all.

[obsesssedblerd]

“I told you to quit waiting on me. It’s late,” Suguru mumbles quietly, tossing his bag down with an exhausted sigh and sitting next to you on the couch. You sigh in relief, so thankful that he made it back okay. You didn’t mind staying up until midnight. “Satoru went to sleep, I assume?” 

“Yeah, he was so tired from today, and sorry, I couldn’t help it,” you mutter, resting your head on his shoulder. “Ever since Haibara…” You trail off, a lump clogging your throat as tears rise to your eyes. You swallow thickly to avoid them. “I just get so worried about you and Toru with all of these back-to-back missions. I can’t bear the thought of anyone else not making it back home.” You take a breath, then smile, turning to face him. “How was your mission, love? It was in a village, right? Not too much trouble?” 

Your boyfriend smiles sweetly. “It went great. My best mission yet, actually.” 

“Really? That’s amazing! What made it the best?” You’re excited. Lately, Suguru had been down, and he brushed it off every time you or your shared boyfriend, Satoru, asked him if he wanted to talk. To see him so happy about a mission brought you so much ease. It’ll be alright. The three of you will come back from Amanai, the large number of missions as special-grade sorcerers, and Haibara’s death. One day at a time.

“Just figured some things out about myself, really,” Suguru answers. “It feels good.”

“Ooh, about your technique? That’s so cool. Isn’t it amazing that even the strongest can get even stronger? I’m so, so proud of you. Congrats on a good mission.”

Suguru’s smile falters a bit, and you can tell that it’s because he’s so tired. His hand comes up to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing gentle strokes against your cheek. “You’re so sweet, angel.” His voice is barely above a whisper. “I love you.” 

“And I love you.” 

“No, I love you,” Suguru emphasizes with a slow, yet soft drawl of the word. “Both you and Satoru. It’s always, always going to be you two, no matter what. I love you so much.” He then leans forward, places a delicate kiss on your forehead, then hugs you close, resting his chin atop of your head.

Because of that, you don’t see the tears lining his eyes. 

— — — — — 

You’re finishing some reports at the school when you hear Satoru begin yelling from down the hall. It’s followed up with Yaga’s voice. Though you can’t hear what’s being said, you know it’s not good. When you hear fast, departing footsteps, you leave the room, walk down the corridor, and stop when you see your teacher. Yaga is facing the ground with his eyes squeezed shut. 

He’s trying not to cry. 

“What’s going on?” You demand, now extremely worried. “Where did Satoru just go? Why was he yelling?” 

Yaga inhales slowly, then meets your eyes. “Suguru’s latest mission.” 

Your brows knit together in confusion. “What about it?” 

“He killed everyone in that village.” 

Everything stops. Yaga’s mouth continues moving, but you don’t hear anything. You feel ill, dizzy, like you’re about to faint at any second. You think back to your last conversation—the relaxed, relieved look in his eyes when he spoke about his mission. 

“My best mission yet, actually. Just figured some things out about myself. It feels good.” 

Oh, god. 

“...He’s now a curse-user, and has been sentenced to death.” Yaga concludes, then places a hand on your shoulder, guiding you backwards so you can sit down on the chair behind you when you begin breathing heavier. How could you have been so stupid? 

“I love you. Both you and Satoru. It’s always, always going to be you two, no matter what. I love you so much.” 

That was Suguru’s way of saying goodbye.

[spanktony]

MISSED OPPORTUNITIES - maddy perez

summary: you can paired up with maddy for a project, little do you know there’s some lingering feelings in the air.

words: 3.8k

warnings: 18+, riding, g!p reader, reader being oblivious, rue, elliot & reader talk abt pegging and b*ssy 😭

notes: might be ooc maddy or bad dialogue, haven’t wrote for my baby in a while! sorry!

navigation. request.

"Maddy and Y/N."

Maddy didn't exactly know you, but yes, she's seen you. She had noticed you from a distance, watching as you'd come to school on your skateboard nearly every day, and on the days you didn't, you'd gotten a ride from Elliot.

Then you'd proceed to come into fifth period with baggy pants, a beanie on your head, and a nonchalant attitude.

Maddy wondered what it would be like to strike up a conversation with you. But, Maddy couldn't gather the courage to approach you, fearing rejection or awkwardness.

Maddy often found herself stealing glances at you during class, watching you bop your head to the music playing through your earphones.

Maddy couldn't help but wonder what kind of music you were listening to and if you'd ever consider sharing your playlist with her.

You take your wired airpod out of your ear, making sure you heard your teacher correctly. You glance around the classroom, catching Maddy's eye. She quickly looks away, blushing slightly.

"So! Now to go over your assignment." You lean back in your chair, listening to the instructions your teacher is giving. "As we all know, spring break is coming up, and I'm sure many of you have exciting plans. Although, the school wants to do something fun to celebrate the break. We thought it would be a great idea for you guys to come up with an event-type fundraiser for the school. It could be anything from a bake sale to a talent show, as long as it's creative and engaging."

Your teacher pauses, scanning the room for reactions. "Then, once you finish your assignment, the school will vote for the best event idea, and we will make it happen during spring break. This way, you will not only have a chance to showcase your creativity but also contribute to the school community in a meaningful way. So, let's brainstorm and come up with some amazing event ideas that will make this spring break even more memorable!"

Your teacher claps, encouraging the class to get up and start sharing their event ideas with their partner. The class gets up, except for you. You hesitate for a moment, feeling a bit unsure about Maddy being your partner.

Now, you didn't know Maddy personally, but you had heard some rumors about her, and you knew her boyfriend, Nate, a dickhead who'd often cause trouble. One time, Nate chased you with her truck, nearly running you over as you frantically tried to escape on your skateboard.

You never talked to Nate nor even looked his way, but he had always given you menacing looks whenever you crossed paths, along with the rest of the football team. It was tiring, annoying, and made you feel constantly on edge whenever you were near them.

You're knocked out of your thoughts when Maddy appears in front of your sight, a slight smile on her lips. "Y/N, right?" You nod, sitting up in your seat. "Yeah..." Maddy chuckles and nods, her smile widening.

"Were you gonna keep thinking about the great depression or come over to my desk so we can discuss this project?" You crack a smile at Maddy's playful comment and quickly gather your belongings, making your way over to her desk.

-

You're at Maddy's house. It's been a week since you've been working on the project together. Maddy had a completely different personality from her boyfriend. She was inviting but at the same time closed off, she'd open up about her interests and passions but rarely talked about her personal life or emotions.

You move to the edge of the bed, taking your notebook with you. "So...uh, so far we have a spring dance, a photography exhibit, and a...twerk party? Did you add that one?"

Maddy giggles, hiding her face behind her hands. "No, that one was all you," she says, her laughter contagious. "I swear I didn't write that." You can't help but smile at Maddy's infectious laughter. It's refreshing to see her so carefree and playful, even if she still keeps certain aspects of herself guarded.

Maddy crawls to the edge of the bed, leaning in to read the notebook. You hold in your breath, her being so close to you, sending a rush of warmth through your body. "You can add karaoke, that sounds fun," Maddy suggests, you nod, taking the pencil from behind your ear and jotting down her suggestion in the notebook.

Maddy bites down on her lip, watching you with a smile. "What...?" You whisper, confused and intrigued by her sudden change in demeanor. She leans in closer, her eyes dancing across your face.

"Do you always ride your skateboard to school? I've been meaning to ask." You feel a flutter of excitement at Maddy's interest in your daily routine. "Yeah, I've been skateboarding to school for a while now. I have a car, but it's more fun, to be honest," you reply, fiddling with the pencil in your hands.

Maddy's eyes fall to your skateboard propped on her wall before falling back on you. "You look hot when you ride it too." Her compliment catches you off guard, and a blush creeps up on your cheeks. "Thanks, Maddy," you say with a shy smile.

"We can take a break," Maddy suggests, taking the notebook out of your lap and setting it aside. You lay back against Maddy's bed, and she does the same, turning her head towards you.

"Any more ideas?" You ask, turning your head towards her. Maddy smiles, "Girl, what part of a break don't you understand?" You chuckle at Maddy's response, your face heating up. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Maddy reassures you, her eyes twinkling with amusement. You turn on your side, propping your head up with your hand. Maddy does the same, jokingly mocking you. "You know, I was thinking we should totally have a secret handshake. Something so ridiculous, only we'd get it."

You laugh at Maddy's suggestion, imagining the two of you coming up with a silly secret handshake. "Like what?"

Maddy sits up, sitting on her feet. You sit up as well, sitting criss-cross apple sauce. Maddy softly takes your hand, "We could dap up..." She moves your hand to the side and starts doing a series of intricate hand movements, "then do a link our pinkies...and seal it with a kiss."

You watch in awe as Maddy effortlessly demonstrates the complex sequence of hand movements. The idea of sealing the secret handshake with a kiss makes you blush, feeling as if you were floating on cloud nine.

"Ready?" Maddy asks, her eyes filled with excitement. You nod eagerly, beginning the intricate hand movements. As you mirror Maddy's movements, your fingers fumble at first, but with each repetition, you start to gain confidence and precision, sealing it with a kiss every time.

"Maddy!" Someone shouts from behind, interrupting your secret handshake. Startled, you quickly break away, turning around to see Maddy's mom at the door. "Dinners ready."

You exchange a sheepish glance with Maddy. "I should probably get going." You say to Maddy, glancing at her door, her mom now gone. Maddy nods understandingly, a hint of disappointment in her eyes. "Yeah, I guess we can finish practicing our handshake later," she says with a small smile.

You reluctantly leave, and you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation for the next time you see Maddy.

-

You lean against Rue's locker, watching the students pass by in the bustling hallway. Thoughts of Maddy replay in your mind making you smile to yourself. Maybe there's something more between you two than just friendship.

But your smile fades, remembering Nate Jacobs. We're they still together? How bad would it be if you did try to pursue Maddy?

Regardless of the bad thoughts running through your head, you can't deny the growing connection you feel towards her, leaving you torn between taking a chance or playing it safe.

You take out your airpod, glancing between Elliot and Rue. "Guys...am I attractive?" Elliot and Rue stop their conversation, exchanging puzzled looks. "Yes," Elliot simply says.

"I'd say so, yes," Rue adds, nodding her head.

Their affirmations boost your confidence, but a part of you still questions if their opinions are biased. Nevertheless, their words provide a small glimmer of hope that pursuing something with Maddy might not be as complicated as you initially thought.

"Let's say...there's this girl, right?" They both nod, and you continue. "And...she's like...giving... I want you, but I don't know if you want me vibes, you know?" Elliot raises an eyebrow while Rue stares at you, waiting for you to elaborate.

"Like! I know she likes likes me, but I don't know how to let her know I like like her." You pause for a moment, trying to find the right words to convey your dilemma. "It's like we're both playing this game and we're afraid to make the first move because we don't want to get rejected or ruin our friendship."

Rue shrugs. "Sounds like you both need a little push," she suggests. "Maybe stop being a little bitch and make a move?" You chuckle nervously at Rue's straightforward advice, appreciating her bluntness. "I guess you're right," you reply.

Elliot puts his hands on his hips. "But are you not curious as to who she's talking about?" Elliot asks Rue, raising an eyebrow.

"It's probably BB." You grimace, "That's not funny, Rue." Elliot tilts his head, confused. "BB? Like, the vape addict, BB?" Rue nods at Elliot, confirming his suspicions.

"You're gross..." He mutters, frowning at you. You make a blank face, "It's not BB, bro."

Elliot puts a hand over his heart. "Oh, thank god." "Who is it then?" Elliot asks, his curiosity piqued. You pause for a moment, debating whether or not to reveal the truth. "Uh..."

Just then, Maddy walks up to you, smiling slightly. "Hey, Y/N." You smile, giving the girl a small wave. "Hey, Rue and Elliot," Maddy adds, earning tight-lipped smiles and nods from the two.

Maddy then holds out her hand, and you're surprised she'd wanna do the handshake in front of Elliot and Rue. You quickly glance at them before reluctantly taking Maddy's hand and reciprocating the handshake, indeed ending it with a kiss.

While you release your grip, you notice a flicker of confusion in Elliot's eyes, but he remains silent. Rue, on the other hand, seems unfazed and continues to observe the interaction with a calm expression.

"Walk me to class?" Maddy asks. You hesitate for a moment, aware of the potential consequences of being seen together, but ultimately decide to go along with it. "Sure," you respond, offering her a small smile as the two of you start walking towards her class.

As expected, Nate Jacobs passed the two of you without acknowledging your presence. He keeps his gaze straight ahead, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. You turn around to see if he's still watching, but he's already disappeared into the crowd of students. You feel a sense of relief, grateful that he didn't make a scene or confront you about being with Maddy.

-

Elliot takes a hit of his cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the air. Rue lets out a sigh. "I can't believe a community service event won against your and Maddy's spring dance."

You shrug. "I don't really care. I still got the A." Elliot nods. "So, do you and Maddy still talk? Or have you been talking during the break?"

You hum, "Yeah, we'll Facetime a bit and hang out every now and then." Elliot raises an eyebrow. "Interesting. Are you two just friends, or is there something more going on?"

"Just friends." You confirm. Rue cuts in, "Because you're a little bitchhhh..." You roll your eyes at Rue's comment. "Aren't you the one who nearly skipped town with Jules?"

"Yeah, well, that's different. Jules and I have a deeper connection," Rue retorts defensively. You shake your head, not wanting to get into an argument with Rue. "Whatever."

You glance at Elliot, hoping to change the subject. "So, Elliot, what about you? Are you seeing anyone special?" Elliot chuckles and shakes his head. "Nope, just enjoying the single life for now."

"I think he secretly wants to have a threesome with Jules and me." You and Elliot burst into laughter at Rue's comment, finding it amusing but also slightly uncomfortable. "I think you and Jules want me to want to have a threesome with you guys so you can feel good about yourselves."

Rue raises an eyebrow playfully. "Oh, is that what you think? You're totally wrong."

"What if we had a threesome?" Elliot suggests, jokingly. Rue laughs. "Yeah, and we just pegged Elliot the entire time." Elliot joins in on the laughter but quickly interjects, "Woah, woah! Why me?"

Rue smirks mischievously. "Well, you did bring up the idea, didn't you? It's only fair that you take the spotlight." Elliot's face turns slightly red as he stammers, "I-I was just kidding! I didn't actually mean it!"

You grimace, "Enough about pegging! I just got reminded of Silento."

"Silento? What does he have to do with this conversation?" Rue asks, raising an eyebrow.

Elliot mouths, "Bussy," and Rue frowns, fake gagging.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, distracting you from the strange conversation. You quickly pull it out to see a message from Maddy, smiling at the message.

maddy - wyd

"Maddy just texted me, what am I doing?" Rue lets out a dramatic gasp. "She's a wyd warrior? Brace yourself, Y/N." You chuckle at Rue's dramatic reaction.

you - nm, u?

maddy - home alone and extremely bored

maddy - you wanna come over?

"Holy shit." Elliot is nearly breaking his neck to look at your phone screen. "Maddy wants you to come over? She def wants to fuck." You raise an eyebrow at Elliot's assumption and shake your head.

"No she doesn't." You look at Elliot who stares at you with a raised eyebrow. "She doesn't!"

Rue joins in, "Then she would've asked for Cassie. Not you." Elliot nods in agreement. "And she's home alone."

You consider their points for a moment, realizing that they may have a valid argument. Anyway, you still believe that Maddy's intention is simply to alleviate her boredom. "Well, maybe she just feels more comfortable hanging out with me," you suggest.

"Why are you plotting your own downfall?" Rue raises an eyebrow, questioning your reasoning. Elliot chimes in, "If Maddy wanted company, she could have invited anyone else. It seems weird that she specifically asked for you."

you - omw

You get up from the bed and say, "See you guys later."

Rue yells after you, "Don't be a little bitch!"

-

"Why are your parents out?" You ask Maddy, plopping down on her bed. Maddy shrugs and replies, "They went out for dinner. My dad finally found a job."

You raise an eyebrow at Maddy's response and ask, "So why did you specifically want me to come over tonight?" Maddy hesitates for a moment before saying, "I just thought it would be nice to have some company."

You sense there's something more to Maddy's invitation, but you decide not to push further. Instead, you lean back on her bed and let out a contented sigh. Maddy sits on her feet before lying down beside you.

"You smell like cigarettes." You glance at Maddy, slightly surprised by her comment. "Oh, sorry about that," you say, realizing that the faint smell of cigarettes must have clung to your clothes from earlier. "I was hanging out with some friends earlier, and they were smoking."

Maddy stares at your face, and you feel yourself becoming self-conscious under her gaze. "I am so jealous of your eyebrows," her thumb begins, tracing the shape of your brow.

"They're so perfectly arched," she continues, a small smile playing on her lips. You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as you thank her for the compliment, appreciating her attention to detail.

Maddy's eyes leave your eyebrows and fall to your lips. You notice a flicker of curiosity in her gaze as she leans in slightly. You clench your jaw, frozen in place, you were nervous as fuck. Your heart pounds in your chest, unsure of what might happen next.

Maddy pauses for a moment, her eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. Sensing your unease, she leans back slightly, giving you space.

Shit...did you just blow it? You watch Maddy's reaction, you try to gather your thoughts and find the right words to salvage the moment. The silence hangs heavy in the air, and you swallow hard, feeling the weight of the missed opportunity.

-

"No fucking way," Elliot mumbles as you finish your sentence. He shakes his head in disbelief. "You fumbled badly."

You run a hand down your face, "I know." Elliot pats you on the back, "Have fun dealing with that one. I gotta get to class."

You narrow your eyes, "Since when did you start going to class?"

Elliot chuckles, "Since I realized that I might not be getting my diploma." You give him a playful shove, "Well, good luck with that. Maybe I'll see you at graduation."

Elliot raises an eyebrow, "Don't hold your breath." He turns and walks away, leaving you alone to ponder the consequences of your missed kiss with Maddy.

You lean against your locker, scrolling through your playlists before landing on the one you made for Maddy. Well, she didn't know you did because you hadn't shown her yet.

You press play, and the familiar melodies fill your ears, but suddenly your headphones get snatched from your ear. You lift your head to see one of the footballers, Tyler, smirking down at you. "Who the hell still wears wires?"

You roll your eyes, annoyed by Tyler's interruption, reaching out to grab them back. Tyler chuckles and shrugs, moving them before you can reach them. "You should upgrade to wireless, man. It's the future," he says with a teasing tone.

"You're so fucking annoying." You mumble, exasperated by Tyler's teasing. "What the fuck did you just say to me?" Tyler's smirk fades as he hears your response, his playful demeanor turning more serious.

He leans in closer, his voice lowering as he confronts you. "You better watch your mouth, or you'll regret it."

"This isn't some Disney show, dude. Can I just have my headphones back?" You ask, trying to diffuse the tension. Tyler's eyes narrow as he considers your request, his grip on your headphones tightening. "Maybe I'll give them back if you apologize," he proposes, a hint of superiority in his voice.

"Nah, man. I can always buy another pair." You say, attempting to walk away from the escalating situation. But before you can take a step, Tyler slams you back against the locker, throwing your headphones on the ground before stomping on them.

"Why? They're right there." He smirks, pointing at the broken headphones. He pats your shoulder before walking away, leaving you stunned and seething with anger. You stand there, anger boiling inside you.

He was a dickhead who obviously craved attention because he lacks it at home.

"What the hell happened to you?" You turn around to see Maddy approaching with a concerned look on her face. You take a deep breath, "Nothing, but I'm about to leave school."

Maddy's concern deepens as she notices the anger in your voice. "Are you sure you're okay? You hesitate for a moment, contemplating whether or not to confide in her about Tyler's actions. You nod, picking up your broken headphones.

"You wanna come with?" Maddy hesitates for a moment, unsure of how to respond. She finally nods and says, "Yeah, I'll come with you." You smile gratefully at her.

-

The sun has now set, and you're in your car in a secluded area. Maddy smiles, the last song on the playlist you made from her finishing. "Send me that now!"

You laugh, "I will, swear."

You feel a sense of relief knowing that Maddy enjoyed the playlist you made for her. You meet Maddy's gaze, and your heart swells with gratitude for her presence and the connection you share.

Rue's words echo in your mind, "Don't be a little bitch."

You take a deep breath, letting Rue's words motivate you to push through any fear or hesitation. You softly place a hand on Maddy's cheek, pulling her into a gentle kiss. Maddy sinks in the kiss, leaning forward to deepen the kiss.

The kiss deepens, and you can feel Maddy's nails lightly graze the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Without hesitating, you pull the Latina into your lap with slightly shaking hands.

You pull away in a desperate need for air, but Maddy takes this as a chance to attack your neck, nipping and sucking on your sensitive skin, while grinding in your lap.

You let out a low groan, grasping her hips tightly as you surrender to the energy between you. Maddy's lips trail to your neck, to your jaw, and then back in an intense kiss, her hands roaming over your body.

The kiss becomes messy, her tongue sliding against yours, making your head swim with lust.  Your hands lift her skirt up, feeling the heat and smoothness of her thighs beneath your fingertips.

Maddy's breath hitches, pulling away from the kiss. You think you've done something wrong, but then you see the hunger in her eyes and the way her chest rises and falls rapidly. She leans in close, whispering in your ear, "I wanna ride you so bad."

Heat pools in your lower abdomen as you imagine Maddy straddling you, her body pressed against yours, moving in sync with your every touch. You bring Maddy into another kiss, she begins to grind on your hard-on, her movements becoming more urgent and desperate.

You lift Maddy up slightly, pulling down your pants with one hand while supporting her with the other. You reach back into her skirt, moving her underwear aside, before sliding into her wetness. 

Maddy moans softly, her nails digging into your shoulder as she begins to move her hips in rhythm with your thrusts.

The eye contact is strong, fueling the intensity between you both. Maddy's gasps become louder, her body arching against yours in, "Mm..fuck! You feel so good, baby."

You let out a small groan, throwing your head back against your seat as the pleasure builds. Maddy's moans fill the confined space of the car, encouraging you to increase the pace, lost in the passionate moment.

Your hands grip her waist tighter, guiding her movements as the desire between you escalates.  The car rocks with each thrust, the sound of skin against skin echoing in the enclosed space. The intensity reaches its peak, and with one final gasp, Maddy explodes into a state of euphoria, holding onto you tightly.

"Y/N!!" You hold onto her, her body trembling in your arms as she catches her breath. You gently stroke her hair, whispering words of comfort and affection as you both bask in the afterglow.

[iznsfw]

Senior Year Isn’t the Only Thing That’s Hard

Momoland's Nancy McDonie x Jeon Somi x Male Reader Smut

20,859 words

Categories | popular!Nancy and Somi, threesome, blowjob, titjob, anal, spanking, fluff, also if you get the reference(s) I love you

Thank you for commissioning! Was tough to find time to write during exam season but fuck it we ball.

Stars in the sky, stars in their eyes—they’re truly something else. Shouldn’t they be up there themselves? They glimmer too bright to be left here on earth, with a guy like you who can’t hold a flame to them.

But maybe you’re one yourself. Stars only ever mingle with their own kind. So there's the possibility that the three of you are stardust, simmered onto this world to shine in other places where they need it. It’s a laughable way to put it, almost cliche. But when you look at them, you realize you’re not far off.

See here: you're young. It's too early to worry about reputation—(oh, what a word, by the way, with its promise of faint or fail)—but a great, great place to start. 

You didn't know about that second part until you met Somi and Nancy.

First, picture this: your story is a movie, the rare one where the male character is the lead of the story although—let's face it—it's them everyone's reading this for. Not you, not your style, not nada and zip. Everyone is and always will be here for them:

Jeon Somi and Nancy McDonie. They're teen royalty. Only a few students ever get to say they held that title. Not that it's of any importance later in life but what matters more than the present? The juniors look at them green with envy, and with the seniors, the ones who are all proud in their recent age of adulthood, either like them but hate to say it and "hate" them but like them too much to say it. It's that simple. It’s that complicated, too, at the same time. 

And, admittedly, it’s… a lot to take in.

Strangely, you're not in either of those categories despite being a senior yourself. The difference is that you like them, and aren't afraid to say it. After all, you owe them a lot for helping you get out of your shell.

-

Well, not at first. But that’s how it works, right? You, Somi, and Nancy don’t immediately become friends right from the get-go. There has to be some kind of story behind it, and you’re willing to tell yours.

-

It all started… well, like this:

You enrolled into a new school sometime after your eighteenth or nineteenth birthday. Yep, you really couldn’t remember. It’s all been in a flash with them, makes you feel a little dumb. All you know was it was the worst present to have: being required to join an institution that was as unfamiliar as it was unwanted. Like, fucking hell—this early? You were just a kid! Well, not anymore, but there had to be some kind of consideration for this, right? An exception that could be made?

Unfortunately, signing up for a new school was not a subject up for debate. It wasn’t something you could bargain yourself out of. No promises to be good, no extra chores, nothing. Your parents were firm on deciding that you were in need of a fresh new start.

And it just sort of happened that this clean slate you had? You ruined it completely.

Oh, it was classic teenage rebellion. You did almost everything you could to buy your way out of circumstances that didn't go how you wanted them to. You wouldn't say it was totally uncalled for. You had friends at your old school you thought you'd forever be with—the way you saw it, no one could just pull that away from you.

Alas, here you were. You'd been in this classroom more times than you could remember. Neither you nor the presidents spoke. No one was willing to break the ice.

Finally, sun melted the cold and replaced the winter with a fiery, hot summer. "You again?" Nancy McDonie leaned on the edge of the teacher's desk. Her expression was that of someone who's going through a cruel cycle of same-shit-different-day. You knew what that's all about. "I swear, we see you here every Tuesday."

And what a privilege that was. Sarcasm? A little. 

"Oh?" you said. You did your own leaning on the backrest of the chair and put your arms behind your head. "Well, it's not like I enjoy it here."

Maybe you did. Maybe you didn’t. To be truthful, you didn’t know either at the time, so… well—you’re left involved in another banter with the two leaders of the student government. You didn’t see why you had to be sent to them every time you did something even just the littlest bit of wrong, but here you were. This was routine already. As everyday and usual as brushing your teeth and showering.

Nancy squinted her eyes at you, and you stared right back unnervingly. Neither of you were going to give up a silent fight like that.

"If you did," Jeon Somi quipped, beside her best friend with her hands on her own hips, "we'd understand. I mean, look at us."

She didn't have to remind you. Both girls were prettier than they should be. ‘Cause look here for a minute: Nancy's got this long caramel hair going on for her, and it extends long beyond her shoulder blades, framing her amazing curves and slim arms. She's the push to Somi's pull—Nancy is the calmer one, the girl who takes things more seriously. 

To be fair, Somi does her own taking, too. Just not in the same way. She's blonder, bustier, more extroverted. She walks life with an unrestrained laugh unfit for such a gorgeous girl and feet clad with platform school shoes that always carry her in paces around the classroom. She's kind enough to cast a blind eye on some of your offenses, but too princess-y to keep her words about herself humble.

You say these in present tense because later on, when the circumstances change and so do the seasons, you'd find out that's truly who they are. Your relationship would change but they wouldn't. They're still the same Somi and Nancy who are always glued to each other, always giggling, always the it girls, always the most popular girls in school.

One day, the punishment for your routine offenses would be death caused by them, and even that you'd welcome. Oh, just imagine…

"Let me guess." The brunette girl tapped her finger on the desk surface. Lucky piece of wood. "You didn't pay the treasurer again?"

You sighed and fiddled with your pencil. Scratches from the pointed led were imprinted on the olden table attached to the seat. You bit back a remark about how the class treasurer was as corrupt as a politician withering away with the hope the graft charges would, too. "Wrong," you said, steadily. "I accidentally spray-painted miss Seo during arts.”

Your truth was met with silence.

“She looked like she came out of a unicorn's asshole," you helpfully added.

You remembered it like it was yesterday. Ah, well, of course you did—it was impossible to forget when it happened fifty fucking minutes ago. Yes, you counted down, because the surprise that took over you when you squeezed the nozzle of the can on a teacher you didn’t even know was behind you was everything to remember. Every color of the rainbow was soaking her dress pants and blouse, making her become the personification of a lively Pride parade.

(You didn’t leave that detail out for your poor victim not to hear, when you said: “Gay rights, anybody?”

Looking back, that was prooobably what got you into another meeting with the girls. The teachers had some real strange beliefs.)

Somi snorted, then started to laugh boisterously, so much that her body rocked downwards. To be fair, it started out as a small chuckle. Things went from this to that and suddenly it worked itself into a full cackle. 

She slapped Nancy on the shoulder and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she apologized; (it was useless), “but that shit’s so… fffucking—”

"It's not funny, Somi," Nancy said with a more solid voice than that of her friend’s. "Hey. Hey, it's not funny!"

“Just think about it, babe.” Somi, still snickering, tried to put some sense in her, tried to make her see what made it so funny. “Think of the gay flag. Now—listen—imagine it as mean old miss Seo. You see where I’m going?”

“Still not funny.”

"C'mon, prez," you told the unconvinced girl. You flung your hands in the air nonchalantly. "Live a little."

"Yeah, Nance," echoed Somi cheerfully, poking her best friend’s cheek. She was the only one who could ever do that to her. Any other person and they’d be found dead in a ditch alongside their reputation. And god, did it matter a lot to young’uns like you. "Live a little."

"Don't call me that.”

Somi shut her mouth. From what you noticed, she was the lesser contained of the two of them. She spoke with a sailor’s mouth that had the accent and vocabulary of a valley girl. Kind of true—she was filthy rich. You saw her parents during the senior acquaintance party and it wasn’t that hard to figure out she was wealthy when you saw her father slip her her allowance. Also, her mother was dressed in the best and latest trends, looking younger than she really was with how she held herself. Only rich people and really exemplary actresses could pull that off.

"And what was your offense the previous week?" Nancy went on. She was leaning forward now, unintentionally offering you the best view a horny senior could wish for: her bust struggling to be held inside her uniform blouse. 

A distraction, that's what it was. Oh, fuck, now Somi was doing it, too. Both girls are busty, full breasts begging to be freed from fabric. You should have really requested undressing them as your punishment, but it was clear that it was probably what they wanted and this was simply to coerce answers from you, unintentional or not. 

They still held their dynamics, even when they’re forcing words out of you. They went hand in hand, pairing up together like they were born to be friends: the angel that was Nancy, and the little devil Somi was; good cop (in a way) Somi, and bad cop Nancy.

You weren’t gonna say their methods didn’t work. You gulped. Since when did you sound like a shitty literotica author with two sales? "I started a food fight in the cafeteria."

"And the previous week?"

"I tripped mister Brown in the hallway because he failed me."

"And the week before that?"

"I started a campaign that Photoshopped Shrek onto teachers' faces."

Silence, as if all the world were a show that liked to take several beats.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” asked Nancy finally.

“You do,” you said. “You don’t think I can see you smiling?” There was something in her face that told you that hatred for you was not all there was to it. Something about the uplifted motion at the left end of her lips. Somi was barely hiding it with the giggles she was making.

“Don’t flatter yourself, dickhead.”

“Oooh, nice one for a first swear word.” You threw the pencil away and folded your hands together. Leaned forward, too, because if they were showing off their cleavages like that, you might as well do the same. “Got anything else for me?”

You promised you weren’t always this petty. These weekly meetings with the presidents just tired you out. It wasn’t your fault you were like this. It could all be traced back to your parents’ nth mistake: sending you off to this shithole of a school. For fuck’s sake, this wasn’t even where you envisioned yourself to be five years ago, when your teachers made you draw a visionary of yourself on white bond paper. Far from it, if you looked past your shitty skills at sketching.

“Detention, maybe,” Somi said helpfully after swallowing the last pieces of her laughs. “And a suspension.”

“Oh god.” You rolled your eyes. “Please, not you, too.”

“Yep. Real scary stuff, huh?” She smiled, raising her hands in claws before firing you a wink. Your breath shortened just for a while. Only just. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to go through all that if you behave.”

You smiled back. “Like a good boy?”

But there was your heart slipping into a knot as you said it. Joke-filled lines you exchanged with the girls were difficult not to stay upon when your hormonal brain kept each one dirty.

The two girls looked at each other for a moment. Then, they smiled. That was a rare one from Nancy. Somi, however, boasted her shining simper as she took a few steps forward to pat you on the shoulder.

"You're alright, newbie," was all she said. "You're alright."

-

A few months—

(Well, you could say it took fewer than that. Within a timespan of what seemed like seconds, Somi had you wrapped around the long hem of her ballroom gown. But she didn’t drag you around for long; she treated you like a fellow royal, helping you out with math though she had little time and greeting you in the hallways and therefore drawing looks, because why was the Jeon Somi talking to some random new kid? But attention was what came with being Somi and slash or being part of her life. It’s time you got used to it.)

—and a lot of bickering later—

(“You are the biggest dumbass I’ve ever met,” said Somi, fingers massaging her temple. “Who in goddess’ name doesn’t know dodos are extinct?”

You flipped the teacher’s copy shut. “Normal people,” was your answer to her, as you brooded over social studies homework at the library. 

“Shhhh!” the librarian, with her stereotypical glasses and graying hair, hissed at you from her desk. After a hateful glare, she was returning to her telenovela, which you argued was louder than your hushed conversation with your new friend.

Friend? What could you call this thing you had with Somi? She liked you, but that didn’t mean she was your friend or you were hers. You could like a modern abstract painting at the gallery and still not buy it. Maybe that was how she looked at you.

“The dodo is dead-o,” Somi said seriously. She looked at you with an equally resolute glare. 

“The dodo is dead-o,” you repeated. You could remember that.

“You’re so lying, did they never teach you that at your old school? Like at all?”

“Well I’m sorry I don’t spend time thinking if a stupid bird is alive or not.”

“See?” She raised her voice so that the poor juniors in the cluster behind you had to hear. “This, my friends, is what’s wrong in our society! Eighteen-year-olds in this prominent day and age are all like ‘I dunno what a dodo is!’!”

“For fuck’s sake, they’re all dead!” you yelled before the librarian could scold you again. “They won’t fucking care!”)

—things began to change.

-

She did say you were alright. You still had discourse over birds but in her eyes, you convinced yourself eventually you were alright. 

-

It wasn’t the case for Nancy. That smile she made back in that classroom apparently meant nothing. You were amusing to her, but that’s everything to it. Nothing more, nothing less. You were entertaining in a way a clown at a children’s party was: no one particularly cared about it days after.

“He’s tagging along?” she said. She looked you up and down suspiciously, as a guard would at an airport, then turned to Somi. “Somi, I thought we agreed on no boys on trips.”

And it—

… hurt you?

Not only that made you feel out of place, but the visible fact that both girls were dressed like they were about to go to a gala. They were both in skirts, wearing layers that vested upon expensive blouses and coats that even from miles away would look good. You, of course, were excluded in your simple tee and shorts. It was as if you didn’t even try to look presentable.

“Consider me one of the girls,” you said. You hoped that quick reply was witty enough, because if not, you were doomed. You already had a bad enough poor position to deal with. See? You weren’t lying when you said you didn’t want it.

And it wasn’t like going to the mall with them was something you wanted either. Somi texted you one day, having found your number through means that were probably illegal but were given a blind eye because oh look she’s Jeon Somi, and asked, hey, wanna come to the mall w me? 

Looking back, that message had a lot of undertones. 

You didn’t know Nancy was coming along, but you should have known that when the two girls were always together. Hoping that she would come along was what you did, and perhaps one of the reasons why you wanted to go (wait, you wanted to go? But didn’t you— never mind). Now that she had expressed clear distaste for your presence, you felt like an outcast again.

You didn’t want to go back to those days.

Somi nodded enthusiastically. Well, at least someone was happy to have you around. She was the first one to warm up to you, and you could say that you were friends with her now. Something told you she was okay with that. “Yeah, Nance! I promise he’s gonna be good, like super duper good. Just think that he’s Mina.”

“Don’t call me that. Oh, and remember what we did to Mina?” 

Everybody knew Kang Mina although she graduated a long time ago. She was a loner at first, but pretty. She didn’t know that she was beautiful, of course, not until she became friends with Somi and Nancy and suddenly—

“Oh no,” you said. You put up your hands. “No, no, no, no, no. You are not—”

“Giving you a makeover?” Nancy smirked, that being the first time of the day that she gave signs of a living smile. “Yeah, we are.”

The salon was right up ahead after the pavilion. You took a single look at it and saw its pink, glamoring state along with the hairdos it advertised, and knew that you were wholly, indefinitely, and irreparably fucked.

“God, what’re you gonna do to me?” you groaned as you were shoved into a disgustingly pink seat, accompanied by strange looks from strangers whose strangeness in their colored hairs and phrases shouldn’t give them any right to look at you like that. Masculinity this, masculinity that—but come on. It was… what year was it again?

“Hey, Jessa!” Somi called out loudly. Jessa was a plump, sweet woman with bayonetta glasses that made her slits for eyes look even smaller. “Make him look like everything.”

“Yeah!” Nancy actually looked enthusiastic. You tried not to curl up into a snail-like position when she brushed her fingers through your hair. “Like a dreamboat, that kind.”

Jessa smiled. “You two are always in some sort of BS, aren’t you?” Fondness graced her elderly tone. It was clear the two girls were frequent visitors.

She swiftly curled the chair into the vanity table’s direction. Your reflection in the star-studded mirror made you wince. You had cysts in all the inconvenient places, a bread crumb at the side of your mouth from the breakfast you had at that niche cafe, everything. Even Jessa looked like royalty compared to you. What more next to Somi and Nancy, whose skirted long legs towered over you and reminded you that they always held the better deck, the better position? 

“Call us the Bullshitter Bitches, then!” Somi began to tap dance on her heels. It was her hidden talent. Well, it wasn’t really hard to tap dance when she had those long legs. “‘We’re the Bullshitter Bitches / We shit on snitch—”

“Somi, that’s disgusting,” Nancy snapped sourly. She clicked a haircut apron around your neck. Great. Now you looked like a goddamned infant who’s growing up with a princess complex.

“Sorry.”

“Just so you know,” you said, as Jessa snipped away at your head, “I’m not paying for this. I don’t need a makeover.”

“‘Course you aren’t. It’s all on the house.”

Brushes swished on your face, hiding the beginning foundations of new hormonal pimples and blackheads. They hid away your imperfections with just one slide. You never saw them as such, not until you got into senior high and therefore compared yourself to the bigger guys, the cooler guys. The ones whose sweat wrung from their hair but still looked attractive enough to get the girls. Maybe this was what you needed. You were gonna have to think twice about the whole operation.

“Makeup?” you asked warily. Not that you were against it. but you never really tried it on before.

Somi’s hand made an L-shaped gesture and branded itself in front of her forehead. “Boo, come on, it’s the big year of”—redacted, with an exclamation at the end. Nobody needed to know when this happened. The time will come when everything will reveal itself. She painted powder that almost matched the shade of your skin and hued it on your cheeks and neck. “Who said guys can’t wear makeup?”

“Makeup is for everybody,” chirped Jessa in agreement. “And that’s right, sweetie, you don’t need a makeover. Just a touch up. And everyone gets them, even handsome guys like you.”

Nobody had ever called you handsome. The last time it ever happened was when your mother buttoned your polo for preschool. It’s flattery, you knew, but your chest still felt as if it were knotted.

“Ain’t that right,” Nancy stooped to your level and brushed your nose with the tip of her finger—her soft smile was gripping, “new boy.”

Another one, and a roundness at the edge(?) of your throat you couldn’t swallow. Your Adam’s apple bobbed yet it was useless at downing it. 

You had to look away. Did she just agree that you were good-looking? You knew Somi thought that, too, but this was Nancy. Nancy McDonie, the girl who didn’t care for you much and didn’t want you here.

She still didn’t like you. But maybe that would change.

(Spoiler alert: it did. That’s how the story went.)

You wondered how rich they actually were to pay Jessa to be so committed to making you look your best. Your hair was purple for a few minutes (“Fuck no!” you shouted) and was easily returned to the black with a quick dye. Then she gelled it in so many directions that you’d think your blunt mane was a car being controlled by an overexcited student driver. That was already thousands of won by itself. But it went on without stopping, and Somi and Nancy still weren’t satisfied.

“I’m telling you, Somi,” said the brunette girl, twirling your chair to the mirror again, “he looks good with that slicked back do!”

“Be serious with me.” Somi blew-dried your hair and ran her hand along your whiffed locks. “Grody as hell. Doesn’t he look like 90s’ Brendan Fraser?”

“He does,” Jessa said. She returned with tools that looked so unfamiliar to you that they might as well be surgeon’s supplies. Fuck, were they gonna take out your liver after all that trouble?

“Ha! See?”

“He has some nice eyebrows. Just needs a little trimming and he’s good to go.”

“Thank god,” you said. They all looked at you as if surprised to remember you weren’t a doll to practice hairstyling on. Your scalp already ached royally. “I need to get out of here.”

Nancy shook her head. “Nuh-uh. You’re not going anywhere, new boy. You’re ours for today.”

You gulped. God, okay. You were good with that. 

A light edged metal ran along the ends of your brows. You were afraid they were going to make you look like Megan Fox in Jennifer’s Body, but it actually turned out alright. 

After all the ruckus, you were there, staring at your reflection.You could pass for a guy richer than you actually were, cooler than you actually were. Your eyebrows were cleanly trimmed, in a steady and one-way direction, and your hair was cut yet splayed in a way that made you actually look flattering. Then you had your cheeks to look at, which were clear of any of your open pores and pimples. You looked like what they told you would: everything.

“I… I’m one of the girls now,” you said out of the blue. It was like a moment of truth for you.

“Yes you are,” Somi said proudly. “Now can we go get some ice cream?”

Nancy glanced at the clothing shop a few blocks down the tiled path and shook her head. Nope. Not a chance in any galaxy.

-

It was also later on, when you saw yourself in clothes from brands you never dreamed of buying, you knew that this thing you had with the presidents would go on forever, an eternity that would last long after—

-

Senior year, your golden age.

"Hey, hotshot," a clear voice says into your ear. She's on the phone with you yet her voice is loud enough for it to be easily assumed that she's physically present. "Up to see me after class?"

That's Somi, by the way. Yep, the leader of the student body who sanctioned you years ago. She's a real life Korean-Canadian doll. She'd be the stereotypical one, the face and brand—she's tall and slender, owning the hallways like she was the first step to ever be made in them. Blonde, too. You've met her years before and not once have you seen her natural color replace her dyed yellow.

The thing about her is that she's always just that shameless and energetic. She has one default personality and that is extroverted. 

She's also naturally flirtatious, and you know it doesn't mean anything else when she calls you derogatory names in sweet tones but you remain attached to her. We’ll just keep it at that.

"Aren't we meeting in social studies?" you chuckle. This girl can't get enough of being around people. Around you, to be more specific. But that's what friends do.

"Not enough, obvi.” 

“Right.”

“Is Nancy coming, too?"

"I think so."

"Darn it. I was hoping to…." 

You raise your brows in suspicion. "What?"

"Nothing. I said we're meeting up."

Let out a soft chuckle. "I didn't say yes," you inform her, just in case she forgot.

"And I didn't say that what you think about it matters, butthead. You know you want to see me. Tata!"

And it ends off with that. Click. 

Your smile is wide. That's Somi for you: a brat at heart, always getting what she wants one way or another, with a vocabulary that matches that of a spoiled heiress. Maybe she is one? You don't know but the branded clothes she often wears to school are getting a little suspicious. Among other things.

The locker space is packed with students, both juniors and seniors, male and female. They see you and start whispering among themselves. Some even make way. That wouldn't have been possible in your first year, but then Somi and Nancy happened. They made you the way you were. They made you a centerpiece. Do you like it? Admittedly, it strokes your ego well on some days.

Where's your locker key again? There it is. Click it into the padlock and swing the door open. Notes and trinkets from your two best friends are stuck to its walls. They said it was "for motivation." You let them believe that because it's true. Seeing Somi's wild happy calligraphy on the sticky note “Yep :) totally got it - Jeon <3”, compared to Nancy's more contained handwriting “Let’s get going!!!” always brightens your day.

Collect your social studies book as well as the mathematics one for the next period. Shut it, and a figure suddenly appears next to you.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Nancy!"

Oh yeah, that's how the scene opens to introduce the present Nancy McDonie. She's the brunette and calmer duplicate of Somi, but with an equally amazing body—

You won't go there. 

She has one arm pinned to the neighboring locker door and a small smile. "Language, handsome," she chides, patting your shoulder. "It's just me."

Oh, and the less sarcastic counterpart as well. Nancy calls you sweet pet names and means them. 

She’s grown fonder of you over the years. Nancy hates hard, but when she loves, she loves just as much. You’ve become so much better as a person and a newfound friend that she’s got no other choice but to keep you under her wing. 

So, it could be argued that she loves you.

Never the same way you do, like you started to right from the very beginning, when unfamiliarity stepped between you and kept your hearts away from each other.

"Hey there," you say, clutching your chest. It’s just Nancy, your other half. You've been friends with her a little after your makeover. Quite a long time, if you do say so yourself; it seems to have happened so long ago. Long enough to have you become one of the girls.

It's not derogatory, like other boys would think. Being friends with the girls is more fun than hanging out with the vulgar rebels from your old school. For what it's worth, being one of Somi's and Nancy's is a huge compliment. Not everybody could say they were friends with the popular kids.

Gulp. It’s so hard to act normal in front of her when she’s naturally charming, and her uniform’s made to hug every bit of her curves, including her exceptional ass. You’ve come to terms with the fact that you’re strongly and sexually attracted to her a long time ago, but it still proves to be a challenge not to stare. 

Besides, she trusts you. You’re her best friend. If you make a move on her, everybody would know and ruin your life for it, even if you’re fairly popular yourself. You’d be surprised by how quick people turn against others.

You’re not going to lie: she’s gorgeous, and the last thing that would be able to scare you is her beautiful face, but she can’t just show up like that out of the blue. That little pet name gets your gears going though. Your spirits are already afloat.

"Hey." She pats you on the head and peeks at the schedule taped to your locker. "Oh, you got social studies, too?"

"Y-you got that right."

"With Somi?"

"Yeah, sure. So?" 

Nancy, sweet as a lollipop, shakes her head cheerfully. "Nothing," she says. "I guess I'll see you there."

"See ya there." 

Offer her a two-finger salute and walk as quickly as you could although you're leaving with her. It's strange how she has your heart all bunched up when she shows up. She's pretty, yeah, but there's a certain aura about her calm demeanor that captures your stomach and keeps it tight. You hope no one gets you wrong—you like Somi, too, but Nancy has you wrapped around her little finger. She could tell you to jump off a cliff and you’d rush to buy out parachute stores.

And you’re staring at her as you switch classrooms. Your eyes are locked to her smile, her every move, her charm. Nancy was the last person you thought you’d ever be in love with—after all, she was the one who gave you sanction after sanction whenever you showed up at her classroom. Somi’s the one who went gentle with you, right?

But things happen. Plus, in a way, she’s changed you for the better. 

Your style wasn’t the only thing they made over. They helped you with your studies, your personal problems, and everything they could. Your grades went up, much to the surprise of your teachers, and you stopped your troublemaking. That was also to the surprise of your educators, but also relief. You couldn’t be more grateful. It was comforting to find new friends in a place so new. And from the girls you least expected, too.

Nancy looks at you twice, then laughs. “Why are you looking at me like you’re in love with me or something?” she says, slapping the back of your head.

Well, what do you know? She’s not far off. You could say that you’re in love.

Just the tiniest, most speckling bit in love.

“Maybe I am.”

“Stud,” Nancy says under her breath. 

She wouldn’t have dared say that in a nicer tone years ago.

The roll of her gorgeous eyes has you thinking of a scenario where it’s caused by something other than your flirtatious remarks. It would start with a flirtatious remark, then evolve into something more. Something beyond that.

Abstain from that thought. Instead, you gasp as if you belonged to the theater club with Jiwoo. “Did you just call me a slut?” you ask her. Raise your voice higher. You really hang out with Somi too much. “Everyone! Nancy McDonie just slutshamed me! I repeat, president Nancy McDonie just slut—”

A rough shove to your shoulder that neither you or Nancy expected blocks your words before they create controversy. Blonde fills your eyes as its Rapunzel owner says, “Get out of my way, creep.”

It’s such a low snarl that it alarms you. What made you a creep? Do you have to fight?

When you look up, you see that it’s no other girl than Somi. Despite what she said, she wears a cheeky, large smile. Return the grin and make it as Somi-like as possible; right, how could you forget the thing you and she have going on? 

“Maybe you should watch where you’re going,” you say, crossing your arms in faux annoyance. Yeah, you really should have tried out for that play. You could make it big as an actor.

“Oh yeah?” Somi looks you up and down. Is that bite on her lip also part of the act? “Why should I? I don’t even know your name.”

“I don’t know yours either. Is it ‘bottle blonde’?”

“Shut the fuck up. 2008 called and said they wanted their My Chemical Romance hairdo back.”

Nancy covers her face embarrassedly. She’s too proud to join the joke you and Somi have, so she’s left having to deal with the unnecessary attention your fake fights warrant. It happens almost twice every other day and people still look on to find out what’s happening. It’s what amuses you and her blonde counterpart. She and Somi are alike in many ways, all except the latter’s thirst for childish fun.

“Madams. Sir,” the teacher says. She’s miss Kim Sejeong, your social studies teacher whom you swear has been here before you were even born. The university students and graduates who’ve found their tune visit often and talk about her fondly, yet despite their ages ranging, she looks like she isn’t more than twenty-three years old. Her gaze is stern yet amused. “Do you plan on getting in? The air-conditioner’s expensive.”

While Nancy blushes in humiliation, the class erupts into giggles, and you and Somi can’t help but do the same. Each repetition of your rivalry routine is funnier than the previous one. It might be corny, especially to the other students who despise you for no reason, but it keeps your friendship solid. And what’s a better friendship than one with a few inside jokes? A strange routine?

It’s an unspoken and universal law in every classroom that even if there isn’t any official seating arrangement as to who’s sitting next to who, you still choose the ones you first sat at the beginning of the year. You’re a proud follower of that rule, and that’s why you’ve been sitting here in the front of the class with Somi and Nancy for ages. You have a secret stenciled artwork under this specific chair with an equation of your trio’s initials. It would mark long after you’ve graduated and went to pass on that you three were once best friends, and nothing could change that.

Somi leans against your arm before turning her head to glare at you. “‘Bottle Blonde,’ huh?” she says spitefully.

“Not as bad as ‘My Chemical Romance,’” you reply. That one stung a little. Does your hair really need a cut?

“Fuck you. I don’t fucking care what you say, I’ll be a blondie as much as I want.”

“And I suppose I’m emo now.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Her brows curl together at the sight of Nancy looking sour in the seat to your left. “You aight, Nancy?”

The girl nods. There’s red coloring her cheeks and ears. Kind of cute, actually. “Still alive,” she says, “after the shit you pulled there. Surprisingly.”

You and Somi bump fists. This is how it is with her. Opposed to you and Nancy acting like best friends just two steps away from being a couple, you’re more of a teasing older friend to her. You act like brother and sister, though your bond is much deeper than that. There’s something lingering in the air between you, and Somi seems to have caught it. What could it be?

You don’t have to think about that for now, not when your arms are around your two best friends in the world and now keenly listening to Kim Sejeong. That wouldn’t have been possible in your first year of high school, when things were completely different.

But, like you said, things happen. Things change. It’s just how they work, and it’s about time you get used to it being like that. You wouldn’t have had it any other way with your two friends, though. 

Sejeong waits for the three of you to get settled, then smiles welcomingly. “Now that we all have ourselves safely in our seats,” a stress there as she looks at you pointedly, “I suppose we should get on with your missed activities.”

Wince. You’re crossing your fingers, praying and begging that one particular girl doesn’t—

“What about the declamation?” Nancy asks innocently. “I thought it was due a month ago.”

A collective groan. You’ve gathered the class before to develop a plan to stall the feared exercise. Popularity, you believe, ought to be used correctly and for the common good. Keeping that declamation away is for the benefit of all. Not only is it an individual performance, but it makes up forty percent of your grade. It takes a hell of an effort to do it instantly.

No effort, so it seems, to Nancy McDonie. She’s the gooder girl of the duo, the perfect angel in all the right ways. She’s still right for this one—a lot of you just don’t like that truth.

“I thought we all agreed—”

“Somi!” you cut in, but she goes on shamelessly.

Somi stands up and looks at the class with genuine disappointment in her eyes. “—not to remind miss Kim about it. My god, you guys are, like, absolutely two-faced.”

It doesn’t take a while for the realization to set in with your teacher. Her stare is, as always, something that cuts straight to the soul. It sheds your dignity and leaves you bare for the eagle to eat of you. To be clear, there’s a reason why she was one of the teachers you never dared mess with. She was quiet but stern—a deadly combination.

"Oh. You kids are too smart for me, huh?" Sejeong laughs sarcastically. Her smile strips you of any attempt to wash her scolding off with a laugh. Can’t resort to that. Again, Kim Sejeong isn’t one to mess with. “That was more disappointing than anything the other classes have done. Do you think that just because you’re popular you can suddenly hold it against me?”

She uses the same lines you’ve heard back in your troublemaker days. Each word untaps a memory. 

You all stay silent. Somi doesn’t for long, when she’s called up to go first with the declamation since “you thought of the plan, miss Jeon,” according to Sejeong.

“But, but, but it wasn’t even—” the girl protests. Her pupils are wide with rage. She’s so used to saying anything and getting away with it. She can’t believe it won’t work out like that for her today.

“Now.”

She groans dramatically, and rises with slumped shoulders so odd to be seen on such a duchess-like, pampered girl like her. After all, she’s the stereotypical rich, blonde teen with impeccable fashion and manners that range from the sweetest to the meanest. Right now, she’s veering in the middle of the scale as she gets to the front center.

You mouth her a deserved, and she says I’m sooo gonna punch you in the balls later.

“Now, miss Jeon,” says Sejeong, arms furled in front of her chest. Yep, she isn’t backing down. “What is your solution to poverty here in this country?”

Nancy raises her hand. “May I go first instead?” she offers in hopes to save her friend. 

“You may not. Miss Jeon, please be brief. Start.”

Somi pouts, but faces the class with steady eyes. She’s ready for this. Mostly. Wringing out a pink bubble gum from her pink lips with pink-polished nails, she begins.

“So, you know how there are a lot of poor people. A lot. I know because I see a whole bunch outside the clubhouse and middle classers are always like, ‘Oh nooo, don’t give money to them, they’re gonna use it for drugs!’. And I’m just there going, ‘Gag me with a friggin’ spoon, Becky. Where the hell can you find drugs for a dime? Where?’.” She pauses for dramatic effect, then nods smugly. “Yep, that’s what I thought.”

Nancy brings her palm to her face. You’re giggling in your seat, muffling it with a few fingers. Sejeong’s eyes are wide and appalled.

“Okay,” the confident Somi continues, “for example, there’re a lot of poor people somewhere. Let’s say fifty. Oh, maybe ninety! That's super many, right?”

You and your classmates look at each other. You’re not certain where she’s going with this.

“You can’t have too many people at the same place, like that time I had all of my geometrics class for my nineteenth and it was a total flop. You have to keep them fed, y’know. So I had to walk my pretty self to the bakers which is like ten minutes away then ask them for more chocolate cake. My daddy was super mad at me for maxing out his credit card, but by the end of the day, we had more cake! More cake equals less hunger equals more dessert equals less poor people.”

The jocks at the back nod in agreement, cheering her on. She acknowledges their reassurances with a flirty wave.

"So, if the government just maxed out their credit cards and let poor people eat cake,” she says, with real conviction for someone who’s dragging her chewed gum out of her mouth coyly, “I believe with all my heart that there will be no poverty in America. Who’s with me?”

The modern Marie Antoinette. You raise your hand proudly. Try to get Nancy to raise hers as well but she’s red in the face again. 

“And to conclude,” Somi adds finally, “it should be everyone’s knowledge that there's no law in this beautiful country that says ‘Republic Act Anti-Poor People and Rich People Eating Cake Together Bunch of Numbers.’ I offer dessert for all to help eradicate poor people– I mean, poverty, led by our government and me, Jeon Somi. That will be all, thank you.”

The whole class gets up on their feet and applauds her. Like the princess she is, your blonde friend waves and bows, even blowing kisses. Meanwhile, Sejeong contemplates retirement and realizes she’s actually considering it, salary and all.

-

"You killed it, Somi. You fucking killed it." 

That's what you say to your friend after leaving the classroom with her and Nancy. You mean it—you've never had a belly laugh that rocked your body that hard before. She deserved an A instead of that disappointing C-.

Sejeong’s sitting at her desk with her head in her hands. Somi’s speech was impactful, it seems. So impactful that it has her fingers jotting down a lengthy text message to… the principal? What’s that for? The speech was great!

Your classmates have filed out to go to computer shops or study. They tell Somi she did great with her declamation, which you’re pretty sure is intended to humiliate her, but Jeon Somi only ever thinks of anything said to her as a compliment. That’s why she blows them kisses and flirtatiously cocks her brows. Yep, that’s her. Nancy’s a different story—always quiet and reserved, but daring enough to hold Somi back before she causes more chaos. But the lid of Pandora’s box has already been lifted.

You three are already far behind your classmates when they go out, but you don’t mind. You like it when it’s just you. No computer shop or mall could compare to being in the hallways with your best friends, trading jokes and stories.

"Killed what? Poverty?" Nancy asks, still in a dilemma over the drama in the social studies classroom. "Somi, you really have to start minding your words."

Somi blows a satiric raspberry. She raises her hands in dismissal as she walks faster then turns around anyway to face her. "Blah blah, who cares? It was an awesome declamation."

Chuckle. "I feel like that's up for debate," you say. "Did you see miss Kim's face?"

It was a look of judgment and disappointment. While everyone cheered and whistled for the other half of the McDonie-Jeon duo, your teacher had a look on her face that could be likened to the one you make after smelling something bad. Laughs were passed around the classroom but her eyebrows and squinted eyes etched an expression of real concern. 

"What if someone recorded that?" Nancy says. She has a hand on her shoulder to try and make her see the darker but truthful side. "You could ruin your chances of getting to a good college forever."

In these four walls of the corridor, your heart twists. Right—you only have a few months until you’re done with senior year. That means having to choose a course and college to go to. You didn’t think time would pass by that fast. By then, would you still be friends with Somi and Nancy?

You hope so. You look at their pretty faces and their hands in yours and wish high school would just last forever. You’d choose them over your standing, your popularity, everything. Sure, being friends with them brings inescapable attention, but you’d be fine without it if it means you could still be with them.

You sit down at the bottom step of the staircase. They follow, too. Open your textbook to skim through it, hoping that your stock knowledge for science would suffice.

“Ugh, college schmollege,” Somi says, crossing her legs and throwing her head back. When her pretty face comes back to view it’s mocking your other friend already. "Have you seen student debt? College just makes people poor. How’ll that help with poverty?”

You wonder how Jeon Somi could sound so knowledgeable yet so insensitive at the same time. It’s a feat that couldn’t be done by others. It’s like it’s her trademark: to be the wealthy girl who always says the wrong and right things that therefore blends into one, confusing mixture. Should you be offended? Happy? Anything?

Nancy leans on your shoulder with a sigh that blows the runaway strands on her face back with their kind. Sometimes Somi could be too much for her. It’s like she trades places with you and realizes how a beautiful girl could be a handful. That’s why you two are particularly close: you understand each other. You’re close with Somi, too, but you just have a deeper bond with the calmer girl. You still don’t know how it happened when she hated you at the start for filling her schedule because of your troubles. Some things just change as time goes on. 

“You just can’t be fixed, Somi,” you tell her. “You’re always going to be insane.”

You know you’re right. She knows it, too. It would take years and years of maturity for Somi to grow out of her flirtatious personality. She’d be the girl in college whose laughable questions somehow also awaken strange inquiries of your own. She’s a little weird, to be honest, but she’s pretty and confident. Smart, too—she just has her own way of showing it.

“I’m a simple gal, what can I say?” She stops before she could go on, as if she’s just caught a memory in the slip of her hands. “Oh, and I forgot to do something.”

“And that is?”

Somi lifts a fist and heavily plows it into your crotch. You yowl in pain as opposed to her grin that could reach the ends of the earth. Where did she learn that? That hurt like hell!

Nancy’s jaw drops to the floor. “Somi!” she says, genuinely shocked.

“What the fuck was that for!” you screech in the midst of your laughs, clutching your core and glaring at the convict of the crime which is assaulting your balls.

The fact that the criminal’s too pretty is an unfair advantage. “I did say I was gonna punch your balls earlier.”

“You owe me one, Jeon Somi!” 

“Hey, I wouldn’t have had to do it if McDonie here wasn’t a grody teacher’s pet.”

Nancy blushes. She's forgotten she's involved in the mess, too. “I’m sorry,” she says in a small voice. 

“I bet you are.” Somi shoves her shoulder playfully. “Cause and effect, Nance. C’mon, if you didn’t want to be a good girl so bad, I wouldn’t have declaimed or anything. Not that it wasn’t amazing.”

What a ridiculous conversation to have. You place your arms around both girls and pull them close. “Alright,” you declare, still wincing, “fuck, you’re both at fault. Nancy made a butterfly effect that ended up getting my balls aching. I’m the poor girls’ guy that got pulled into everything. What’re you gonna do about it?”

Somi floats her fingers on her cheek, thinking a little. It’s like a bulb lit above her head when her eyes suddenly brighten. You hope that it’s a good idea this time because when she makes that look, it isn’t for any good at all. 

“Nancy and I will discuss this, if you don’t mind,” she says, rising to her feet and tugging Nancy up, too.

“Me?” 

“Yep!”

She pauses. “Jeon Somi,” the latter sighs halfheartedly, “what are you planning now?”

Yeah, what is she planning? You have no idea and honestly, it scares you. Somi can be unpredictable with her quick wit and schemes, but with Nancy’s added ideas? Whatever she’s dreaming up, it can’t be anything you’d expect.

“The perfect apology. Meet us at my house after school. See you later, cutie.”

-

Your classes are filled with sprites of anxiety that are unusual when compared to your daily jokes and butt-ins. Your head’s filled with plenty of questions, and you try to answer them as you go about the rest of the school day:

First of all, why did the apology have to take place at Somi’s house?

Maybe they’ll buy a cake for you from the bakery she cited in her speech. She has plenty of money to go around so a cake might actually be possible. If it weren’t a cake, maybe an apology combined with balloons and confetti that you’d laugh about years from now. All these possibilities you sift through and yet they don’t seem to be what’s in store for you.

Second, why did the planning that had to occur without you?

They might be planning a big surprise. Perhaps that’s it. But then—

Why such a big surprise for an apology that could’ve been done simply?

That’s where your mind goes blank. You don’t know. You have no idea, not even the tiniest bit. You’ve been friends with Nancy and Somi for years but they still have that mystery around them. You know everything about them, from their interests to what makes the three of you click, but never what they plan to do. That always remains shrouded.

So, when Nancy texts your group chat the plan’s done!!! ♥ ️ be ready & meet us where youre supposed to :), you move like a snail. You take your time playing and talking to other students, buying food from the cafeteria, everything. When you get on the bus to commute from your school to Somi’s home, you’re wrecked by hesitation. All this anxiety and nervousness for a damned apology. 

Maybe it’s because you’ve never had friends like them before, especially that pretty. 

You would never intend to act on your feelings for them if they don’t want you to, even if you’re hormonal as fuck, but what if that’s what they’re planning? To have an intimate night with them, just like in the movies? 

Or, hopefully, finally let you have something deeper: a love that fits three?

Nope, two wishes that’ll never come true, whatever star you make them upon.

Drag your heavy feet down the road. Sounds like Somi’s rich-ass neighbors are partying again. Take your precious time leering at them, noticing the manner they hold their wine glasses and the music only being stolen off Spotify’s Most Popular Songs playlist. It’s all a headache, honestly. You’ve never connected well with rich people, not until you met the girls. That’s where it all starts and ends, right? Them: Somi and Nancy, the yin and yang?

“You’re here!” shouts Somi gleefully, throwing her arms around you. She’s dressed in this tiny shirt that looks cute and simple but you’re sure costs more than a few thousand won. It also shouldn’t be worth that much when it’s too little for her anyway. “Why did you take so long?”

Nancy goes in for the kill. She comes in with only a camisole and the undershorts of her uniform plaid skirt, and it hugs right where it maims and shoots you. No, keep your mind holy. She’s your best friend. Also your crush but that doesn't matter here. “Bet he was scared to come.”

“Was not,” you reply too quickly. Tighten your jaw. “I—I got held up by traffic.”

“It’s a Wednesday.”

“Yes, but—” Pause. You realize you don’t have a proper justification. “Just get to it, will you? The apology?”

“‘Kay ‘kay,” says Somi, wrapping an arm around your waist, literally keeping you at arm’s length just in case you try to scamper away, “the apology is a girls and boy’s night. Here. Just to get away from everything. We all need it.”

“Who’s ordering the soju?”

“Soju?” Nancy asks indignantly, eyes all round and wide like she was a deer caught in headlights. You and Somi are like that to her: flashing lights, crashing into an unsuspecting her with a brightness a notch too much. No apologies when you don’t plan to change. This is what makes you young.

“What’re you, a nun? We’re adults, Nance!” Somi says. Her thumbs tap away at her phone screen, the familiar pink lights flashing back at her indicating she’s already ordering. “It’s on me.”

Of course. Who other than Jeon Somi? Of course, you can’t let that moment slip away without a snarky remark from your end.

“Must be nice having access to your billionaire dad’s bank account.”

Somi twirls her fingers in her hair and squints her eyes at you spitefully. “I’m using my mom’s, poophead.”

“Oh wow,” you reply, your statement blank of any emotion.

“Guys,” cuts in Nancy. Her voice is strained. She feels like a mother trying to contain two kids who just know how to push her buttons. “We can’t have soju delivery. Or beer. Or whatever alcoholic drinks there are. We can get in trouble. Think about our grades. The suspensions!”

Ah, sweet Nancy, always the one to pull you back down to sense. But when has that ever worked?

“Alright.” Somi clicks her device shut and throws it on the sofa space you’ve left empty beside her. “Fine.”

Wait—what?

Her best friend twists her head in shock. “Really?” 

Nancy simply can’t believe that this girl, whose whole trademark is being a spoiled brat, actually follows sensible orders. You're surprised yourself; you can’t believe it more than she does. Is it finally time for Somi to perform her arc of being the mature, behaved girl she simply isn’t?

“Yep. You won.” Somi rises and waltzes her way to the exit of her mansion. “I’m just gonna buy some myself from the convenience store.” 

“Somi!”

“Hey, you only said no delivery! You didn’t say I can’t buy some face-to-face!”

“Well, now I’m making it official. No—”

“See you later, alligators!” 

The door slams shut. 

Nancy groans loudly. Of course, the little brat. 

She lets herself fall to the floor in defeat. The massaging of her fingers on the sides of her head doesn’t do enough to cast away the stress. How in the world is she going to control Somi? She knows the two of you are practically twins, the same in every way when planning schemes to make her freak out. She has to play babysitter again. How many nights has it been since the start of her unpaid duty?

On your end, you're thinking. You’ve been friends with her for longer than you think yet you don’t know how to say the right thing in situations like these. Maybe with Somi it would have been easier to say the comforting words. After all, she’s the most extroverted and blunt person you know. But with Nancy, it’s different. Nancy McDonie is never blue. At least, not to the point where she’s on the floor and moping.

It’s always different between the two of them and you still remain unable to pick who you love more.

It takes a while to get the words out, but better late than never. God, you’re such a bad friend. Do you even deserve her? “It’s fine, Nancy,” you say, sitting down beside her. You rub her knee. “Like she said, we’re adults.”

“I know, but…” Her voice trails off, and she lets out another groan that twists as it reaches your eardrums. “It’s just so scary.”

“Tell me.”

“What if someone posted photos of us drinking? You know the school handbook, right? All that talk about maintaining a good and clean self inside and outside the school. If someone finds out—”

"Yeah? Well, nobody will."

"Yeah, but there's always the possibility…"

You sometimes pray that Nancy's allowed a day without worry, that she doesn't stress over things for once. She's precious—you don't want her to feel bad about anything. This strange protectiveness always takes you when you're with her. 

“Hey.” You massage her shoulder. She whines, and it’s so cute hearing her unusual sulking that you just want to wrap a blanket around her and kiss her on the forehead. Again, urges. Simply urges. Don’t mind those. “There’s only three of us here. As long as we don’t post pics online or boast about it, we’re safe. So don’t worry about it.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Not when you’re with a dreamboat like me.”

You just humiliated yourself with that. Hell, you probably gave everyone who knows and will know this story of yours secondhand embarrassment. It’s worth it all, however, when Nancy smiles. And oh, could you get lost in it. Her eyes curl up at the corners and emit all this gorgeous, positive brightness that you think everyone should get a chance to see. She’s so serious and reserved in school that a smile from her is closer to impossible than thunder coming before lightning.

“God, you’re such a gigantic ass sometimes,” she mutters, bumping your shoulder with hers.

“Did you just say I had a huge ass?”

“Keep your mouth shut.” She pushes you, joining you in your laughs, then opens her arms invitingly anyway. “Oh, forget it. Come here, you.”

You can’t even pretend to not want a hug when it’s all you’ve ever fantasized about: being in the warm, filled embrace of Nancy McDonie. You’ve fantasized about things that extend deeper than that, but you could settle for this. There’s Nancy burying her head in your neck and her hold being a little too tight for it to be a casual touch between friends. You’re delusional, but who wouldn’t be when you had a best friend this pretty? This… curvaceous?

God, you don’t know how to say that you like this girl without sounding like another one of the weirdos who stalk her at school. Are you just like them? No, you can’t be. You’ve liked Nancy and known her more than they could. It’s what you tell yourself to keep your sanity. 

“You know,” she says, still rocking the two of you side to side, “they did say not to trust first impressions. ‘You better take advice. Never trust first impressions.’”

“Didn’t Michael Jordan say that?” 

“Did he?” She looks up curiously. 

“Never mind,” you say, waving it off. You pull away. Lean against the curve of Somi’s sofa so that your ass doesn’t slide like a mop on her floor. "What’s with first impressions? What was your first impression of me?”

“You really want to know?”

“Why not?”

“Well, for the first reason…” Nancy hugs her knees and looks at you pointedly. “Not a lot of people would love to know that they were a real fucking pain in the ass.”

You burst out laughing. There’s chances as slim as a ballerina that Nancy curses, but when she does, she sounds hilarious. She doesn’t even say them a certain way; it’s just the instance by itself of her daring to use words deemed as bad that gets your tears of laughter flowing. 

To add to that, there’s that matter-of-fact statement she made that’s as honest as Somi’s everyday talk that makes you think they switched souls for a second. You laugh harder with that in mind. The next thing you know, you’re curled up on the floor busting out cackles that reach pitches you can’t even shout in.

“Seriously!” she says. She’s laughing as well as she shakes her head in disbelief. “I was always trying to keep the seniors in place, you know, being president and everything. And then I found out this new kid just spammed middle finger emojis to sir Fernandez in the Zoom chat after he made him answer a question. And I was like, ‘Hooo boy.’”

“Well, he shouldn’t have called on me while I was playing a game!”

“You’re so immature, he’s a teacher and you’re in class! He’s supposed to do that!” Nancy squeals, a hand on her mouth to muffle her rambunctious cackles.

“Fine, fair point.” You somehow manage to make a successful attempt to halt your laughs. “And then what happened?”

There's a lot of secret lore between you and her. You want to uncover all of them, especially knowing that Somi's gonna tease you to hell about if she heard. Her getting soju was a blessing underneath another blessing—you got alone time with your crush and some nice alcohol to ignite your system.

Nancy looks around at her friend's house. She admires every perfect painting bought for millions, every chandelier that mistletoes whoever stands beneath all its glory. They help her form her next statement.

"To be honest," she says, choosing her words carefully, "I thought you were in it to blackmail money out of Somi. To manipulate her. I love the girl, you know. She acts like she's all that, and she is, but she's… fragile. So I never let her be alone with you."

"Damn.” You admit that your heart sank a little, like a ship doomed by the ocean. “Am I really an ugly creep?" 

"No, it wasn't that. I was just afraid you were a player. Like one of the jocks who bully Somi but don't ever get to her because she's too naïve to see that they're doing it. And you're not ugly, you know. You're…"

She's looking at you strangely, in that strategic little way she locks on artwork flashed in a Powerpoint from a projector in school. She's looking at you as if you were a complex, layered painting she couldn't wrap her head around. But being unable to pick you apart thrills her; there's a smile on her face.

"I'm what?" you ask, ever the dumbass. Or poophead—you take whatever.

"Don't make me say it. You're so full of yourself already."

"Respectfully, Nancy,” you declare, “I have no idea what you're saying. How can I when I didn't even know what a dodo was before eleventh grade?"

"You're handsome, okay?" Her cheeks get into this furious red color that she tries miserably to hide with her palms, hide with a dismissive laugh. "Good-looking. Attractive. Whatever."

Chew at the end of your lip to fight back a giddy grin. Did she really say that? A star out there in the looming night just granted your wish. "Well, you gave me the makeover back at Jessa's."

"Look at you being the patron saint of humility."

"I'm serious. I looked like a loser before you came in like a storm and rained that magic in my life."

“And now you’re Shakespeare.”

“When a girl like you comes into a guy’s life,” you say, leaning forward, “who wouldn’t be?”

"Well." Nancy huddles her chin into her palm. Her voice is as soft as cotton. "With a guy like you, you could say I never looked back."

But her voice dips, and there's a hidden subliminal message in it that causes you to look up. You could read it clear off her face there, off Nancy, off her soul that's never looked more clear.

Nancy, with her chestnut brown hair, ever the princess of autumn.

Nancy, with her comforting eyes full of resoluteness, as if she's wanted this to happen.

Nancy, with her lips barely a breath away from—

“Who the freak locked the door?” shrieks a familiar voice from outside. Well, not too outside when its volume closes in on the interior vicinity of the large mansion. “This is my house! Let me in or else I’ll call the cops—”

Sigh. Fucking cockblocker brat. You rise from the floor and approach the doorway. This time, you spare no time—you don’t want to look back and identify the look in Nancy’s eyes as you walk away.

“Calm down, the neighbors could hear you,” you laugh as you let the blonde girl in. You’re a little disappointed that she interrupted what was beginning to happen, but there’s time for that later. Can’t spare her an annoyed look, though. It melts when you see the cans of beer in plastic bags.

Nancy takes a bag from her sullenly. “No drinking past twelve.”

“No promises.” Empty a can into your open mouth. Somi claps her hands happily and almost drops all the alcohol she bought.

You help the girls stock the cans and bottles into the fridge. It’s the large, two-door one that could fit an entire person. Wait, it can contain all of you three? You’ve been to Somi’s so many times and only noticed it now. 

But that’s the last thing you take note of, for here's what's new: ice cream overflows Somi’s freezer, yet a lot of them haven’t even had a crumb consumed from them. Somi says it’s because she keeps them for cheat days. 

“Is today considered a cheat day?” you wonder out loud.

“Go crazy.” Indifferent, Somi gives you a tub each. Chocolate. Vanilla. Double dutch for her. “It’s not like Walmart’s gonna disappear unless the aliens come to Earth and have the bright idea to go wacka over there. Nope, Walmart’s always gonna have some more.”

“Aren’t you the best, Somi.” Ruffle her hair fondly while you scoop a humongous chunk of ice cream into your mouth. Alcohol and ice cream are delicious together, but your stomach turns around. It strangely stays intact, as if preparing for what might happen later tonight.

“Of course I am, are you buggin' or what?” 

Somi licks the spoon of its sweetness, staring right at you. You don’t know how to react—her tongue’s gliding all over the utensil perfectly, collecting the studded white with nothing but clean performance. Her eyes don’t let up in their strong, connected gaze. Your breath gets lost somewhere in your airway.

Nancy watches amusedly. Okay, so maybe she does smile more than you think—it’s unlike any other one though. This one of hers is lined to the edges with smugness. “There’s our princess,” she remarks.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The spoon catches somewhere sandwiched between Somi’s words. 

Nancy shrugs with a serene calmness. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

She walks away without another word or gesture. Suddenly tense in the bones, you and Somi close up together for reasons unknown.

“Is that just me being majorly freaky,” says Somi, eyes following her best friend with a new, imminent gaze, “or was that kinda hot?”

You don’t answer, but you think she knows. The two of you bond over shared experiences, and this one is about finding out how hot Nancy McDonie truly is. It’s not an unknown fact, but it’s the way her pupils settle over someone and linger just long enough to have them wondering; the way she commands a classroom; the way she rarely is vulnerable—it’s all that which leads to the very moment she leaned against the fridge door and watched silently, attracting the two of you even without the need for many words.

You’re droning again. Drowning, too, in her. In both of them—as you walk behind Somi, you can see that there isn’t a bra strap lining an imprint on her shirt and her ass is sticking out under her shorts. You barely could get yourself out of the waves as you wade your way to the stairs. 

At least that’s a familiar high place you could seek refuge from: the loft. It’s kind of like an attic, but you don’t really care. It’s where you hang out and watch all the movies with them from a crappy projector. You don’t care about the films due to your conversations with them eventually proving to be more interesting.

“Roof?” Somi asks. She peeks out of the triangular window pane. “The stars are pretty tonight.”

Never been there before. Not that you aren’t willing to try. “Just don’t fall off,” you warn, though you’re nervous yourself to get there. 

She slides a chair to you and then you’re climbing through a square-shaped gap at the low ceiling. You help the girls up onto the roof and become literally starstruck because—

Whoa.

Feels like a different world. The night is as vast as it is beautiful. Shining lights are embedded into the sky, the gray clouds barely visible with how they blend in with the color of the atmosphere. Each star has their own glimmer, but all of which share a common brightness—when partnered up with that large, pot-bellied moon, they become more perfect. The soft yet distinct sounds of the cicadas echo in your ears.

“Will anyone see us up here?” asks Nancy. Her vision is filled with shining galaxies, and her tone sounds dreamy. She says it in a way that isn’t out of concern for possible consequent trouble, but an appreciative one, as if she were wondering if anybody else could see how pretty it is up here.

“No one.” You shut the trapdoor and sit upon the curved edges of the roof. “It’s just us.”

“It’s just us,” she repeats this thoughtfully. You think that she’s smiling again, but you can’t be too sure.

Yes, it’s just you three. This intimate moment includes only you and the girls who turned your life around. Nobody else could get to bask in the simple happiness of hanging out all the way up here. This is for you, and no one else. Nobody could ever be friends with the girls the way you are.

You three take in the beauty of the night. All the way up here, the hills look higher than they already are. The sound of partying neighbors becomes static in the background. It becomes like foreign words in an uninteresting song—it’s nothing in comparison to the view of sloping roads, tall homes, and the trees swaying to the beat of the night wind. It can try its best to break your immersion and every attempt would be fruitless.

“Care for some double dutch?” Somi asks you. She juts out her tub of half-eaten chunks of ice cream. Appealing.

“As long as you don’t use the spoon you gave a blowjob to.”

Nancy snickers. She shoves your knee in reprimand, taking care not to put in so much force so you don’t topple down the roof and onto the main road. 

“I’ll give BJs to any spoon I want, thank you very much, but alright. Do what you want. No ice cream for you, more for me.”

“I could go for some.” Nancy parts her lips.

“Glad to see we still have someone with a brain around here.” Somi shakes her head at you disapprovingly.

You squint your eyes while she feeds Nancy some double dutch. Note dutifully that she uses the same spoon she violated. Well, that’s one thing you didn’t expect. But they’re best friends—they’ve been there for each other through thick and thin, bad and good. Sometimes simple gestures like that show that there’s something in the midst of them that beats mere friendship.

But then you see the way they look at you, and you’re briefly toying with the idea that whatever they have, they got it with you, too.

“I still remember the first time we brought you here,” Somi says, leaning in front of you so she can get to wiping some cream from Nancy’s lips. “You tried to act cool, but you were really starstruck. Like the house was Zendaya’s or something.”

“I guess so.” You freeze up when she holds your hand. “I mean, I’m not exactly the richest.”

You think of your own house—sweet little place with a tall tree and a low gate, nothing special—then compare it to hers: a mansion with six floors and rooms that could substitute for hotel clients. Nancy’s is amazing, too. But you don’t really care about that. It’s a whole other thing that bothers you about it.

Nancy shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re our friend. We’ll share it with you as much as you want.”

You’re finally able to name the thing. For months you’ve thought about it, but you never realized until this moment that it’s exactly what keeps you insecure about your friendship with them. That’s another thing they make you find out, besides style and bond.  

“Yeah, I get it. But, but I’m a loser. I was a punk who made school life hell for you. I’m broke. Stupid. I don’t get what made you want to be friends with me.”

Maybe you're like Somi, too. You act like a king in school with a red carpet draped down on the floor for you, but you fear that your crown is undeserved. Sometimes you feel like you're a peasant deluded by dreams of status and strength.

“Besides you being stupidly hot,” Somi says, albeit sincerely—there’s no sarcasm or flirtatiousness in her pitch, “you’re not in it for the cash. You’re not in it just to say you’re besties with us.”

“And trust me,” adds Nancy, “that makes you a prodigy among others.”

They're right. You aren't in it for the popularity, the fame, not even the everyday free treats and outings you get. You just… like them. Somi's bright confidence inspires you; you've never seen a girl more self-aware than her. And Nancy's someone who takes her studies seriously, an example you should follow, while still maintaining a social life. 

"What makes you so sure?" you say teasingly. They might've had some doubts along the way. 

"I dunno," Somi says with a shrug. Her eyes curve north. "We just are."

They just are. Short and simple, but it somehow explains everything.

Stars in the sky, stars in their eyes—they’re truly something else. Shouldn’t they be up there themselves? They glimmer too bright to be left here on earth, with a guy like you who can’t hold a flame to them.

But maybe you’re one yourself. Stars only ever mingle with their own kind. So there's the possibility that the three of you are stardust, simmered onto this world to shine in other places where they need it. It’s a laughable way to put it, almost cliche. But when you look at them, you realize you’re not far off.

"And I guess we know a lot more about you than we think." Nancy twirls her fingertips along your thigh. "Because we want to show we're grateful. And, y'know, sorry for the ruckus we caused back there."

"You already have. The soju, the ice cream… I'm already good."

She smiles. "You really don't get it, do you?"

Your mind can't keep up. What don't you get here? 

Somi leans forward and flashes you a smile that raises your suspicions. "You're completely clueless. Like, if it danced in front of you in a housewife apron, you would still order your dumb poophead ass some chicken wings."

"What? Why the hell would a hint be wearing an apro—"

You don't know why or how, but she's kissing you like you got the point she's been pushing across.

Now you do.

-

"Call this… a friend's sincere apology."

Somi's pushed you down on the old mattress of the loft, with a new look on her face that tells you tonight would be everything you expected and didn't.

"Two friends' sincere apology," adds Nancy. Her shorts are off? You didn't notice in the dark, but you can make out the supple shape of her hips and thighs, full and meaty in all the right ways. "Question is: would you let us do it?"

Your answer is locked and loaded in your throat. Can't pull the trigger when her ass muffles your face.

Alright, perhaps—just perhaps, you aren't saying it's real—you've devoted a few seconds of your time appreciating when the wind picks up her skirt at school. You tried not to be perverted because, of course, she's your friend. Your best friend.

A best friend doesn't push hers down a mattress with the weight of her core on his face. She doesn't let him feel her full cheeks suffocate him, or start to move like she would please a lover.

So what are you and Nancy when she's doing each of those things? 

Definitely not just friends.

"Fuck." The word leaves Nancy's mouth like a prayer. She doesn't pray often, but she religiously grinds her hips to and fro on top of you. The flat of your tongue massages her labia and tickles her prone clit. She's so wet that your lips quickly become coated. She looks back and moves her ass with stressed slides. "Your mouth is so good. So fucking good."

"Already?" Somi chuckles. She's not just your best friend either; her thighs hug one of yours and, like the girl she's always seen giggling and whispering with, she's grinding. Her movements are admittedly more fluid, but who's keeping note? "You talk real dirty for a prude."

Your pants slide off your legs as she finds the bare skin more appealing than denim. You flex and send a moan from her so carnal it might have literally clawed its way out of her throat. It's sharp. Needy. Wanton. Somi doesn’t speak like the rich princess she is when she moans for cock.

"I'm not a prude," Nancy says. Her breath is tinged to the tone with air. She's gasping as you tongue her and lick at her lips. "I just like being chaste."

"Please, sweetheart, you're aaanything but chaste."

"S-says the one who's sucking him off."

Both girls have mouths on them. Somi in particular. It's word-for-word how her lips trap your cock and start off with a strong suction. You moan right into Nancy's pussy. Said girl cries out when your lips strengthen their merciless suction on her pearl.

If you were to consider everything like a butterfly effect, you'd say Somi started it all: the sucking and moans. She's the one who's massaging your cock with those pink lips, effectively causing you to lose control and take it all out on Nancy. Poor Nancy, always the one to take it all. Now it's for good; she's squeezing her breasts and riding your mouth like a saddle. 

"Blowjobs don't count!" Somi quips. You moan again; the tip of her tongue toys with your balls. It's like she lit a fire there no wetness can put out. (Well, you still have to see about that.) "We'll show him how real good girls say sorry later. You know what I mean, right, babe?"

That fucked nickname does things to you, even if it's not meant for you, because it foretells the sight you have to fight to see with Nancy's back blocking it: Somi placing her hands on her best friend's hips and guiding her movements on your mouth. 

"Y-yes." You're surprised at how submissive Nancy sounds. So different from the commanding tone she assumes in morning assemblies. 

You didn’t expect you’d be in this position. Another thing you didn’t expect was how wet Nancy is, and how she tastes. She’s tangy yet sweet, filling your mouth like a new favorite flavor. She also moans a lot, which is strange when she doesn’t really talk much outside of this setting. You’ve changed her, too. Just not in the way like she did taking you to Jessa’s. No, this is your way: keeping her drenched little pussy filled with a soft muscle that’s hard enough to have her legs shaking. 

"That's right. Move that fat ass for him." Somi sits on the side with one hand on one side of Nancy's waist and another on your cock. She jerks you off hard, with a grip that's both too tight and too good. "Your nipples are sooo hard, Nancy. Just a hunch of mine, but I think you want me to suck on them. Make you cum on his handsome face."

Precum dribbles from your cockhead. How could Somi, the girl who speaks in coy accents, talk so filthy? She knows the time and place for that mouth, and it's right now and on Nancy's waiting breast.

Your length goes through bouts of impossible tightness induced by Somi's fist while your mouth (gladly) suffers another burden, which is Nancy's pussy and ass gyrating down on you. Your tongue doesn't know where to go so it goes everywhere: licking a wet line on her slit, diving into her drenched hole, teasing her clit. Nancy's thighs slam with your head in between. 

"Fuck!" Her moans are straight up pornographic. "Oh, oh, it feels so good, don't stop!"

Somi runs a teasing finger on your slit, keeping the heat in one place before resuming having her palm wrap your dick. "Who says we're stopping? Yep, nobody. Just keep moving those hips, lovie. We still got so much to give him."

You didn't think it was possible, but yes. Nancy does sprawl out more, her outed pussy lips all puffy and sore from your doings. You’re ruining her with how you lick and let her push down. Her core must be strong for her to keep a good stance in the midst of it all.

It’s not like you’re left out. Somi’s to thank for that, with her hand not stopping as it pumps and pumps and pumps. The pace is dangerous like a feared waterfall that’s got signs telling travelers to be wary around it. She pulled you into it. It isn’t that you wanted to suffer under the rapidity when you feel comfortable with the descent and rise.

"Ah. Ahhh, please!" 

Nancy never begs. She's above that, just like she is with everything else. But listen to her pleas and begs for more, for you to keep licking and sucking at the right places, for your hands not to pause in their journeys roaming the land of her perfect, curvy body. 

Somi spanks her, and you quite literally feel her cheeks bounce in your face. You'd actually be okay with going out this way. Heaven could be found in Nancy's full ass.

Oh, right, and Somi’s hand. You’ve never taken Somi as the kind to get around a lot even when she acts overly sexual sometimes, but she must have learned those skills somewhere. Her hand is neither too tight nor too loose—it’s just the perfect grip for you to almost cum into her fingers. She’s determined to wring a climax out of you, too, with how harsh she slams her hand down on your core.

It’s a cycle of pleasure that has no means of ending. With Somi fingering herself, you getting the best handjob you’ve ever had, and Nancy having her pussy eaten out, none of you are left to waste away. It’s sin, that’s what it is. It’s an act that, if anyone had caught sight of, would have guaranteed a swift suspension—maybe even the chance of getting expelled.

But in this warm moment, all of you forget about that. Even Nancy has that off her mind when all she’s thinking about is your tongue delightfully fucking her wet hole. 

“I’m… I’m cumming!” she wails. Her riding on your face spirals out of control, and again and again you’re blessed with her ass suffocating you. 

It’s too much for one girl to take: a mouth going crazy on her pussy and another doing the same, if not crazier, on her tit. Your sucks and Somi’s own increasing when she announces her imminent bliss doesn’t help her case either. But maybe it does—she’s never felt this good. Whenever she secretly, scandalously toyed with her pussy under the covers at night, none of those porn videos and literotica made her cum as hard as you and Somi have. It feels like a large bubble has burst inside her when she finally releases, tensing up and freezing similar to if a frostbitten cold finally took its last toll on her.

She sighs heavily while she comes down. Her thighs shake and you have to pin them down the creaky mattress to keep eating of her. She shudders and pushes you down. You stop, like she hinted.

“You alright, Nancy?” You remember Somi asking a similar question earlier, in a situation that’s nothing compared to this. Yep, far from it. A continent away. You weren’t eating her out like a last meal in the classroom, were you?

Well, you would have wanted to if you’d discovered prior that her ass is really as nice as it looks.

“Yes,” she replies weakly. 

You’re glad.

“I might have to try and get you to eat me out, too,” Somi says to you. She helps Nancy to get off your face after you got her off. “She was screaming, did you hear? You’d think somebody was like getting killed and– oh, wait, of course you couldn’t hear. Her thighs are just the perfect things to have wrapped around your head, right?”

Nancy blushes and looks away..

“But I think we should take the lead." Somi stops jerking you off. What quickly washes away your disappointment is when she takes her shirt off. "We’re the ones giving back.” 

The recoil of her large chest is amazing; it rises as it’s hindered by the tight hem of her clothing, and settles back into its natural position after she rids herself of the fabric. Her rosy nipples are things work gawking at; they’re as stiff and hard as diamonds, telling you of how much she wants this. And you think you’ve seen a few of Somi’s diamonds she could purchase a whole mine of, but you’d still have a desire similar to the blonde’s: you want her more.

“I’ve seen you looking at them. Don’t pretend and go all ‘oh nooo, that’s not true.’” She gives her own gifted bosom a firm grope. Her head throws back due to the pleasure. “You stare all the time. It makes me kinda assume that you want me to do something with them.”

“And what could that be?” you ask in a futile attempt to match her cockiness. Should’ve known that it’s a losing game trying to beat Jeon Somi in being a brat. It’s a god-given gift, a skill that needs no honing. She’s just like that.

“Duh. Like I said, I’ll show, not tell. This isn’t primary school.”

She shows a hefty amount, you’ll tell her that. Your mouth falls out at what happens. She takes her tits into her hands and leans down to envelope your cock in them. She seals it tight around your girth. 

Fuck.

She then starts to move. Up and down she goes, toying with her nipples on the way. It makes her core more drenched than it already is.

She’s the master of eye contact. She picked it up with her natural confidence. Why do you think she walks the hallways with a gaze that’s only directed straight ahead? Talks to new kids like she already knows them? She’s never seen weak, and tonight is no exception. Her fierce eyes speak of lust and strength of knowing she’s having her way. 

Jeon Somi always gets what she wants.

Again, this time is no exception. 

“Fuck, Somi…” you say in quiet groans. 

Someone needs to pinch you. This can’t be real. Never did you think what you’ve been dreaming would actually come true. The nights you touch yourself to the frequent sight of her tits practically bursting out of her uniform, you think of this same exact thing. You think of using her breasts like a toy, and now you’re experiencing it for real.

Perhaps one of the stars out there really took one for the team and granted two of your wishes at the same time.

Are you in wonderland? The movement of her tits provide a solid pace that’s hard to keep up with. Its warm, slick embrace has you on the edge of the mattress. You don’t ever want to run away from this feeling. It’s slick and tight yet rough, giving you a pleasure that’s confusing just as it is enjoyable.

“How’re you doing there?”

“I like it. More than like,” you breathe. Swallow what’s already been said.

Somi’s tits are a dream. They might as well have been made out of clouds with how soft they are, even when hugging your dick. You see yourself disappear between them and moan. Look up at Somi and see her seductively bite her lip; moan harder. Who knew all that barky flirtatiousness had a bite to them?

“Really?” she asks. She stops for a regretful moment to slap your cock against the side of her boob. The curve of your length heats up. “Couldn’t have guessed.”

She resumes, and you couldn’t be more thankful. The friction is everything to live for, and you’re a man who’s had no wish to die. Somi’s pale chest, guided by her hands trapping your cock between the massiveness in front of you, propels you to a close orgasm.

You switch your focus briefly to Nancy. She hums from afar. You notice that her fingers are in between her legs. She’s enjoying it as much as you are. “Could you stop being a brat for like, one second?” she chuckles, though it twists between her moans.

She’s sitting on the floor with her well-eaten pussy splayed to welcome her digits, and they definitely are welcome visitors. Her mouth is open though no more words come out.

“What? He likes it.” Somi jumps the pace to a rapidity you cry out for, and smiles that smile. The smile she only does when she’s doing or will be doing something she shouldn’t be. Explains a lot—if you two were just best friends, she wouldn’t be titfucking you. “And this is an apology, right? I’m saying sorry for punching him in the balls.”

“God,” you laugh out loud in spite of it all. “If this is the way you apologize, I’d have you punch my balls everyday.”

“I could do that. Say your apologies, too, Nancy. The way you’ll know he likes it.”

It’s as if she made your wet dream and worst nightmare come true. Can you even take more? It’s a question that apparently is disregarded of its answer; Nancy crawls over to the edge of the old, discarded mattress to suck on your swollen balls whenever Somi’s tits rise. 

They’re arsonists, and your whole body is the unfortunate victim. Although they attend only to your crotch except for the here-and-there brushes on your stomach and legs, your toes and arms burn. Somi and Nancy are sending heat waves everywhere. You twist and turn and propel and cry—none of those banish it. And it’s for the better because you’ve never felt closer to paradise.

You have to groan loudly. It can’t be muffled when the sensations are coming at you all at the same time. You can feel Nancy’s tongue dragging its edge along your sensitive flesh and her friend’s tits bouncing around you; see the two students’ sultry looks never breaking; hear one girl’s grunts as she fucks you with her bosom and the other’s moans; touch the mane of Nancy’s autumn hair to pull her deeper into your crotch; taste an orgasm that couldn’t really just come now when it’s this close—

“Oh shit, fuck!” The most senseless of curses come out of you after Somi’s titjob provokes a messy, violent orgasm. You’d be more coherent than that if she were letting up. Not possible when she doesn’t; she keeps bouncing up and down to jerk your cock off with her deep cleavage.

Somi hums delightfully at the never ending spray of cum on her tits. Nancy stops suckling harshly at your left testicle in order for her to be able to do it instead to the rod beside it. 

“Nancy, fuck, so good—” you say, hissing as your hips rise up.

You’re inadvertently facefucking her like this. Your hips move with their own will. They push up hard into Nancy’s beautiful lips. She in turn reacts with spontaneous downward drives of her head, welcoming you into her tight throat and letting you savor her mouth.

Somi fixes the girl’s hair into a ponytail of brown. She could see the bulge you’re making on her throat. She nods her on whenever Nancy looks at her with hesitation, and rubs your thigh to get your sensitivity levels to an all-time peak. She certainly got what she wanted and expected, as per usual, for you’re moaning with the tone of someone who gets paid to do it; shivering though it’s anything but cold here in this loft that’s gotten warm for other reasons besides the fireplace.

Nancy gags as she pulls away. Now she’s poured on by the white rain, too; some get into her hair while the others find a landing place on her shirt. God, that must have been expensive. You’re not here to make reparations, just to remind yourself; this is for you. They gave you this opportunity.

However, your heart pumps with anxiety hearing Nancy hack and cough. You quickly get to the floor, knees shaking on the way. “Hey,” you start, with a thumb on her chin, “you want to keep going?”

It doesn’t look like it for a second, but then those beautiful dark eyes connect with yours and suddenly all the discomfort is away. She smiles.“Y-yeah!” she says with a half-giggle. “All okay here.”

“Awesome.” Somi pats her back repeatedly and strokes her hair. “I was beginning to think I wouldn’t get you to suck on my tits.”

You look at said tits and gulp. Yeah, that beautiful chest covered with your release is tempting to be gawked at. But still, time and place even for jokes. Nancy’s about to have a goddamned asthma attack.

“You are so out of line sometimes,” you say to Somi disapprovingly. 

“It’s alright.” Nancy grins. Wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Nobody said apologies weren’t hard to do.”

The look of defiance and mischief softens on Somi’s face. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I’m sure he won’t mind, right, oppa?”

“Yeah,” you butt in, something you would have done even without Somi’s jab at your shin. Dear god, is the girl a bodybuilder in disguise or something? That hurt almost as much as the punch to your balls. “Nancy, I appreciate it and everything, but if you want to back out—”

Look, this is everything you wished for. You wanted to have intimate moments with them probably since  just a few months before the friendship was sealed. They’re beautiful girls, and you love Nancy especially closely. However, if they want to stop, you have to. Not to become a white knight or anything, but that’s natural law. You don’t force anybody into it.

“It’s okay, seriously.” Nancy’s relieving words now pass more smoothly through her lips. “Are you liking it so far?”

Alright, another thing to analyze. What else is there to answer? “Yes” is a painfully obvious reply to her question. You’ve had her ass on your face and Somi’s tits screwing an orgasm out of you. This is what wet dreams are made of, except that the white leak doesn’t end up on the fabric of your sheets anymore. 

It ends up on Somi’s amazing chest. Any man would die to catch sight of them. They’re round and full, settling at the perfect position whenever she breathes while covered from areola to nipple with your sticky load. Your semen even slides down to her midriff. You’re more convinced that she’s a bodybuilder—for this, it’s more obvious: her abs are hard and firm. You’ve worked out a lot and have not once gotten to that point of solidness.

Your cock can’t say the same.

“I loved it. You?”

“I liked it, and, and I—” 

“You want to answer him, brunette-ie?” Somi asks mockingly, swirling white on her collarbone. Yet another wonder to gawk at.

“That doesn’t work for other hair colors,” points out Nancy with a giggle.

“It does when I say so.”

Nancy tilts her head. Her smile suddenly doesn’t look too playful anymore. “Not everything’s gonna go your way tonight, blondie.”

“Is that so?” Somi curls her hair from her shoulders and tilts that pretty little head they hold. “Because if I have to say it again, McDonie, it’s—”

Nancy knows there’s no point arguing with her. It’s not the right occasion today. Fortunately, she has better ways of making Somi shut up.

It’s not completely shutting her up when all it does is make her create more noises. These are more pleasant to the ears in comparison. When Nancy attaches her pretty lips to her best friend’s tit, Somi’s words freeze in midair. You could see all her brattiness melt drop by drop. Her eyes are wide and she lets out a whimper. 

If your cock was flaccid already from the raunchy sex (because you started it all off with a bang, literally,) it isn’t now. It perks up hard upon seeing the most beautiful girls you know engaging in such obscene acts. Nancy’s already shown you how talented her mouth is, but she’s only hanging the knowledge out for everyone to see with how she cleans Somi’s right breast of your cum. The nipple she performs on is stiff, and she takes special care in gently guiding her teeth along it. 

“Fuck,” Somi says, voice breathy. All those little signs—her breathing shortening whenever Nancy dares to suckle a little bit harsher, bite a little harder; her legs suddenly shaking and weakening—lead you to a conclusion: they’ve done this before. Whether for rehearsal for this moment or for just mere curiosity, it’s hot nevertheless.

“Now will you shut that dirty mouth up?” Nancy uses that exact voice in the classroom, and hearing her use it in this moment makes her sound so much sexier. Gone is the passive prude that she is (or is pretending to be? That voice can’t be birthed from just leadership skills)—she knows how to put a brat in her place.

“If you think,” says Somi, with a laugh that’s too pitchy to be genuine in its sarcasm, “that sucking my boobs’ll make me a good little bitch, then you’re wrong.”

Is Nancy wrong? Probably. Somi’s the most defiant, outspoken girl you know. Nothing has stopped her from getting her way. You bet if Armageddon came into reality and all the world went to shit, Somi would be commanding the demons to get her a pumpkin spice latte and the angels to call her a limo.

“So you don’t want to be good and get on his cock?” 

Nancy stands up. You’re once again reminded of the eternally truthful fact that her ass is amazing. She shimmies it on your cock, slipping it between her cheeks but never really allowing penetration, and afterwards starts to bounce her butt beautifully for you. 

You can’t help but run your hands all over the perfect fat thing. You  lift the cheeks to let them ripple photogenically as they settle down, going as far as well to give her a few spanks. You’re lost in this sex-filled dream. You’re in a coma seeing the too-good-to-be-true ass of Nancy McDonie.

Somi twitches her mouth to one side. “I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t want to feel his big fat cock inside you,” and Nancy’s more dangerous than you think—she takes your cock and starts to tease its head on her lips and asshole, “and really get a taste of how he stretches you out?”

You bite your lip, enjoying what she’s doing to you and Somi. Your other friend has never looked more needy—large, rabbit eyes peer jealously at Nancy getting to have you for herself. Or is it the other way around? The looks she gives Nancy’s drenched pussy and your solid cock are equally full of hunger. 

“You want to answer, blondie?” An echoed statement, but it doesn’t lose its effect on Somi.

Nancy smirks. She’s a natural-born leader, often managing to fight her way to be in charge. It isn’t the same for the other, who’s been raised to have everything her heart desires. Right now, seeing you hint to fucking her best friend is making her needy. Really needy. She wants you for herself, too.

Nancy shrugs at Somi’s continued refusal to answer. “Suit yourself,” she says. She twists around to face you and commands, in a loud whisper, “I want it in my ass, oppa.”

“No!” Somi finally breaks. Her cheeks are pink. “I mean, like, not yet. Fine. Whatever, f-fine, I’ll be good. Just let me have him, too.”

“That’s more like it.” Nancy kisses her, a feat that has you blushing regardless of you not being the recipient of that gesture. “He and I can do that later.”

Somi scrambles to her feet the second Nancy leaves your lap. With no hesitation whatsoever, she plops herself down on you, filling herself to the hilt all at once. Her toned back is turned, but you can paint a picture of her face as she moans. Her mouth parts widely to cry out, and you could imagine her staring at the black insides of her eyelids as the wonderful filling results in getting her to see stars.

“Ohhh my god,” she drawls out. Her legs shake. “You were gonna fill your ass with something this big?”

You reach up from behind her to squeeze her tits. You can’t believe your dick had the chance to feel them before you did—they could do a role as stress balls; they’re soft, large, and you’d love to squeeze them any time of the day. Yep, also on the times you aren’t stressed in the first place. That’s how perfect Somi’s alluring breasts are.

Her pussy is the main attraction to all of this, however. She’s obviously so turned on—her wetness is like an avalanche of need on your cock for it floods your shaft without the need for an orgasm. Not that you aren’t gonna give it to her. When her pussy’s this snug and warm, this wet and tight, how are you going to do anything but make her cum?

You start to hump her rabidly. Your hips send her bouncing up and down on your lap, making it so that whatever happens, her starting point and ending point is always your cock. Somi’s moans cut and break into emphasized cries. In your hands, her tits make gravity look so appealing; they bob high in the air and rest heavily into your palms. There’s always a sharp rebound, a sharp cry from her. Her moans just make fucking your school’s signature brat a five-star experience.

“What did I tell you? I’m not a prude,” Nancy replies smugly. She spreads Somi’s legs to the point that she’s technically doing a split on your dick. “I also know how to suck on this little nub right here. Like I did to your big tits, remember?”

At first, Somi doesn’t get what she means. But then Nancy licks quickly at her vulnerable clit, and she understands it fully. “F-fuck, Nancy unnie!” she cries out.

She tenses up in your lap. As an effect, she gets impossibly tighter. You fight it with sharp thrusts, but she always ends up closing around you. You pierce her tightening walls and find that no amount of wetness and slick could get her to part her walls. 

“‘Unnie’?” Nancy licks up and down. In the face of it all the run of her voice remains gentle. You splay Somi’s pussy lips to help her out. “You never call me that. Do I have to suck your clit everyday to get you to have some manners?”

Oh, but Somi can’t be taught manners. Just a few licks around and on her bundle of nerves has her forgetting to use a proper inside voice. It’s hopeless when she’s screaming and writhing all over the place. That’s what the combination of your thrusts and her fellow council president’s tongue does to her: it turns her into this crazed nympho just begging to be touched and used.

She’s lucky to have friends like you and Nancy who are willing to be patient in teaching her. Your methods aren’t the most orthodox, you’ll admit—what kind of friend would team up with another in ruining her cunt?

“The princess here needs to learn a lesson, after all,” you whisper in her ear. Your hands on Somi’s wide hips, your fire pumps harshly into her without daring to slip out. Nope, you’re staying inside her forever. “You’re gonna be a good girl, aren’t you, Somi? You’re gonna let us fuck you into being a good girl?”

“You sound so stupid, you know that? Like you came from friggin’ Fifty Shades of Gray or something.” Somi sticks her tongue out at you, then it idly hangs from her lips after you reprimand her with a few scolding thrusts. She begins to whimper, eyes filling with tears of need. 

“Tell us to stop then.” You aren’t fazed. You know what that face she makes means too well. 

You propel up into her with the force of one who almost hates her to be fucking her like that. You spread her legs wider. Bury your face into her hair because she’s your blondie.

She says nothing.

You toy with her nipples, flicking and pinching them.

She utters not a single word.

Nancy slips her tongue inside for a brief moment, joining you, then places kisses on her inner thighs. 

She finally makes a noise, and it’s a couple sounds stringed into whines. 

It’s not the childish one she makes whenever she’s refused something as miniscule as a bite of a doughnut, but one of real weakness. She just showed the two of you where her Achilles spots lay. She’s a sucker for this, and all the same, you’re a sucker for her neck and shoulders that always smell of lilies. Take it all in before leaving love bites all over the pale, prone skin.

She takes deep breaths.

Nancy asks her if she’s cumming, and she screams—

“Yes yes yes! Just keep eating me out, Nancy unnie, keep fucking me, oppa! I’m gonna cum so hard!”

Nancy makes a show of licking the underside of your entering and exiting cock all the way up to Somi’s pussy lips. The two of you groan ecstatically. This she repeats until your precum starts to wet Somi’s walls and Somi’s clit is practically quivering from the abuse. It doesn’t stop there. She grabs Somi’s tiny waist and pushes the girl’s core into her mouth. 

“Shit, Nancy!” Somi gasps lewdly. The new position gives you ample space to take time in withdrawing then slamming every inch into her aching body. “I’m gonna cum, gonna c-c-cum, please—fuck!”

There she goes. She falters heavily into you as her orgasm takes over. 

You caress her rising and falling midriff, suddenly wrapped into the need to help her come down. You kiss the back of her ear and her neck. Whisper sweet everythings there (because you mean each one: you’ll take care of her all the way). Nancy stops eating her and rubs her thigh comfortingly. 

Through it all, Somi’s still your baby. The girl you tend to because you know she loses herself sometimes.

This is the calm after the storm. For a moment, it’s all soft. Somi may remain with her pussy filled with your length, but it doesn’t change the tenderness you have for her. For Nancy. For the relationship the three of you have.

“Are you all bright and happy there?” 

“Fuck you, of course I am.” That tells you she’s not tapering off lust-induced insanity that much. If she were, though, she’d still maintain that feistiness. “I can’t believe we did that. And I can’t believe you didn’t cum inside me.”

“Safe sex, princess.” Nancy’s back to her serious yet half-joking self. She brushes Somi’s nose playfully. “Didn’t you listen to sir Lars?”

“I’m safe today, though…” 

“Hmm. Next time?”

“Next time,” replies Somi with a bit more satisfaction. “For now, I want to see you get your ass fucked.”

Maybe it’s going too fast, like an amateur author’s prodded pacing with a debut novel, but in the flash of the moment you find that you don’t care. You and Nancy share one look and just know tonight is going to be different than all the other ones with hookups, exes, everything. This one runs deeper—it’ll define who you are for the rest of the evening.

Somi sits down at what used to be the headboard of the mattress. She’s good with just watching after the violent orgasm she had. Nancy really went all-out. Must have still been thinking about that speech she made.

Your mind stalls on Nancy right now. She’s on her hands and knees, and she’s looking back at you with this nervous yet crazed desire. It’s written clear on her face. Then there’s the rest of her beautiful body—that back, her full thighs, that ass. You knew she was beautiful with a great body to go with it, but you didn’t really figure it was an unfiltered truth until now.

“I—I brought lube,” she says timidly. She looks away, and it’s so unlike her to be this meek that your instinctive reply is a laugh.

“You came prepared.” 

Somi throws you the bottle, and while you lather some of its content on Nancy’s asshole, you’re faced with millions of questions. “I assume you planned this? Or do you just bring lube whenever I’m around?”

Nancy rolls her eyes. God, do you love to make them do that. You were born to. You were made to make her roll her eyes at you between her laughs. “Stud,” she whispers.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She still hasn’t figured out it isn’t derogatory with you. Or with any guy for that matter. You chuckle softly. Love how her hole closes tighter the second you wipe some of the handy liquid on it. “Ready?”

She nods. There’s hesitation, but the upward perk of her ass can’t mean anything else than transparent want. 

“Boooring!” Somi yells out, arms in an “X”-sign in front of her. You’re the actors, and she’s the disapproving film critic. And god knows how insufferable film critics are. “Ever heard of porn without plot, you absolute doodooheads?”

“Porn without plot? You read way too much fanfiction, Somi. Like, way too much.”

“Hello? Peepee in the poopoo hole now, if you please.”

You give her a tired look in spite of your small laughs. “Can you make it sound any less sexy?”

“She’s right,” Nancy says in a tiny voice. “I want you now.”

There’s the (with a trademark after that) look again, somber and wide. She needs you. You need her. So why are you stalling? Idiot. You need to put yourself together.

Slip past the defiance of Nancy’s asshole, and curse immediately. It isn’t even halfway in and you’re already close. She’s too tight that it almost beats the tightness of Somi’s pussy. You’re not sure you’re ready for this. Run your hand along Nancy's back and feel the sweat stick to your hand. She’s nervous. In pain. At least, you assume so.

“Need to breathe?”

Nancy winces and nods. “A few seconds.”

It’s hell itself trying not to give in to your instincts and pound away into her ass. It’s just so perfect, the way it trembles and shakes and unintentionally sends vibrations your way. Sends those full cheeks bouncing.

Even in a state of need-to-get-it-together, Nancy still looks her prime. Her hair, all those chestnut locks, sticks to her back as she pants. Her face has never looked prettier. She’s gorgeous as could be, and you realize that it’s these moments—not her beauty pageants where she’s all dolled up by attending stylists, not when she manages a glow-up (when she already is the most beautiful woman you know) weeks before class pictures are taken—that take your breath away. She’s just there, just existing, and you maintain your preposition: down bad.

“Tell me if you lovebirds need to stop,” says Somi. “Because what I’m seeing here is– oh my.”

Nancy starts to fuck herself on you. She wants to do this—Somi’s words are her motivation. Her ass constricts tighter and tighter as you penetrate her, but you make it work. Make it fit. She’s so stretched out but she doesn’t stop. It makes you temporarily heed the idea that a glitching robot is controlling her. The recoil and push of her ass are too rough.

“Fuck,” she whispers, eyes squeezed shut firmly. “Feels so fucking good.”

If you’re making Nancy curse, it’s either really good or really bad. You’re betting on the former. Her ass rotates and circles before you, welcoming her into its depths, and you can’t find your breath again. You must have lost it, lost it somewhere in the atmosphere that smells of sex and sweat.

There isn’t even any foreplay to go by. She simply pushes back and takes every inch of your dick. While you lost hold of your breath, Nancy’s found hers, and puts it to good use with her moans. 

“You’re… opening me up so much,” gasps Nancy. She looks back to see that you’re forming a steady reciprocal rhythm that’s starting to gape her hole. 

“Should I go slower?” you ask hesitantly. You slip a hand to her mound then settle a thumb over her clit. It throbs, still sensitive from the sucking.

“No, god, no. Go faster. Please.” Her words are broken off like blunt phrases, but you catch on to her meaning. She wants it fast even for the first time.

It’s lucky you took your time rubbing lube on your shaft and her hole. As time goes by, Nancy’s ass only grows tighter. It clings to you, afraid to let go. Her legs shake yet they’re strong enough to push and pull, receiving you into her backside.

The mattress starts to creak. Its old springs are resurrected and the first thing they do is make squeaking sounds. It’s drowned out by the sound of Somi touching herself. Her wet pussy is slick as her finger rubs firmly on her own clit and her mind runs with the idea of her being in Nancy’s place. Her toes are already curled tightly.

Nancy’s words don’t lose their eccentric tone even if she’s being plowed from behind. The broken mirror discarded to the corner reflects her expressions. One minute she’s smiling drunkenly, and the second minute her eyes are dazed, as if she were taken straight out of an 18+ anime magazine. The next minute she’s suddenly gasping for air. No, air isn’t what she needs. Everything that’s essential is hidden right inside your cock, and she’s going to get it.

“Need it, need it, need it.” 

She squeezes tighter, and you wince. It feels good. Too good, in fact, that you chase after the feeling with quick pumps. 

“H-hah, I know you want to do it,” she says, turning to you. She kisses you and smiles weakly. “So cum in me. Cum in my ass, I need it so fucking bad—”

She interrupts herself with a sharp draw of breath. Your fingers have entered her and are frantically moving, filling her over and over and jabbing at her walls. You take advantage of her sensitivity more than you should, and she loves it. 

Nancy cries out. She folds herself over the mattress more, muffling her face in its olden softness. She feels so full. With your cock stuffing her sweaty ass and your fingers wiggling around inside her, there’s only one path this is destined for. But she wants to make the journey last. She doesn’t want it to end too soon.

“P-please, I can’t take it,” she whines.  She muffles a scream. It doesn’t help; her next words are shouty. They don’t sound so intimidating when they come out pitchy and needy. “I’m going to cum all over you, for you, just please do the same. Please. Please, oh—”

Perhaps it’s your natural way of catering to whatever Nancy requires, which is to mean what you do everyday, but you end up exploding inside her. She moans happily, and you feel her drip a little as she comes to her climax as well. The little leak grows stronger as you firmly rub her clit. Your thighs soon suffer the damages of her flood.

Whimpering and overstimulated, Nancy’s screams almost make the windows shatter. Through all this, she pounds herself back into you, and you do the same. None of you want this to end.

Be that as it may, nothing lasts forever. It could be that it’s a gift, for when you pull out of your crush and spray the remaining shots of cum onto her beautiful back, you realize you’re stark exhausted.

-

“Cinnamon rolls, anybody?”

Here’s how it goes after that: the three of you showered and are ready to go rest. You couldn’t try for shower sex, not when all of you are spent. You’ve sprayed and fucked and came too many times to count that it’s for the common good that you take a break. 

Bruises litter your jaw but it’s alright. Nothing a little makeover can’t fix. Nancy still worriedly brushes it with a tender finger.

“I swear, Nancy,” you laugh, “I’m fine. You should be worried about yourself.”

Nancy nods obediently, but her eyes still linger on the purple spot.

“God, get a room,” says Somi with a groan, handing you your dessert. Is this her way of aftercare? “Oops, you already did. Silly me.”

You’re all wrapped in comfortable bathrobes. They’re the ones with the really silky fabric, the kind that feels like clouds dropped from heaven and onto you. They settle comfortably on your sore bodies. You go to the roof even with only those “clothes” on. Not one of you cares for decency; considering what you did earlier, it’d be hypocritical to try and salvage some self-respect.

Oh, who minds anyway? Not you three. All you want is some rest.

“Not funny,” Nancy says. She takes a careful bite of her roll, licking her lips with a glare.

“My bad. Should try again the next time we stop fucking.”

You stop chewing. “Wait… so you’re saying we’re doing that again?” you ask, suddenly flustered. 

You’re not complaining. It only took a few minutes for you to discover that sex with the duo is the perfect mix of soft and rough. Exactly your kind. Okay, so maybe the rough part outweighs the other, but you aren’t turning back. Your concern is your friendship—would you still see each other as reliable people, or would that be warped by lust?

You’re young. Nothing is permanent—that’s what you’re taught. What if that counts for the relationship you have, too?

“You don’t want to do it?” Somi asks in a voice so small you barely could make out the words.

“No, no, I do.” Scratch the back of your neck. How do you say this without sounding super attached? (You are.) “But… are we still friends? Are we still good with each other?”

Nancy gives you an amused look. “Why wouldn’t we be?” she inquires, genuinely curious.

“I—I thought—”

“Look, we all know what we feel.” Somi takes your hand and presses it to her thigh. Her face portrays a solemn yet caring look. It feels foreign seeing such a serious face on such a spunky girl. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends along the way. You’re still our Frankenstein. We made you.”

“Is the alcohol plus hot choco combo doing something to you or what? Frankenstein is the name of the crea—”

Somi groans and mashes you in the face with her cinnamon roll. “Get outta here with your nerd BS,” she says. She’s smiling, though. 

“Get out of here with your own dodo BS, bottle blonde.”

“Dodos are essential knowledge, not some facts about a stupid ass mon—”

“If you two don’t stop,” says Nancy, knowing when a playful fight starts and how to stop it before it does, “you’re both getting out.”

Are these the girls you fucked in that small loft just a few hours prior? They don’t ever change, do they? They might be hot as hell, but they’re still Jeon and McDonie, the girls you’re friends with. Your hearts remain in the places they were before.

But maybe deeper, delving into the core of your chests.

Somi directs her eyes up at the moon floating in the night sky and smiles. You’ve always loved it when she smiles, menacing as it could be sometimes. She looks like a giddy girl who was just taken to a candy store. There’s this pure, sweet grace to it that infectiously makes you grin, too.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” she says dreamily.

“It is,” Nancy agrees. She’s looking cute herself; her cheeks are stuffed with cinnamon rolls. 

You look up as well. They’re right. The moon does look prettier tonight. You’re no selenophile, but you swear the large spots of gray and black on its rounded curves make it look more serene. It feels like a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

“Well,” you say, smiling, “I can die happy.”

It was supposed to end like that. You all know what you meant. This was supposed to be a memory you’d keep stowed in the drawers of your minds to look fondly at later in life. But you just had to ruin the moment by suddenly sitting up straight and staring with wide eyes at your hands. What have you done? You can’t believe you could do such a thing.

“H-hey, Nancy…”

“What’s wrong?” Nancy asks.

“You know that quote you said earlier about first impressions?”

“Yeah?”

“And how I said Michael Jordan was smart for saying it?”

“What are you getting at here?”

“I remembered it wrong.” You gulp. “Michael Jackson said it, not Michael Jordan.”

“Are you in your right mind? How could you even think that?” asks Somi, cackling. She almost topples down the roof. “Like, seriously, oppa, are you okay? Are you okay? Are you okay, opp—”

“For fuck’s sake—”

[kinascum]

PICKUP - DAD!M. STURNIOLO

SUMMARY. when a stressed-out, sleep-deprived and chaotic SingleDad!Matt falls in love with his son’s kindergarten teacher.

CONTENT. no major warnings

WC. 1.3k

proofread by @baileysturns

You wait as the hours ticked by, the soft hum of the kindergarten classroom lulling you into a gentle rhythm. The children have long been picked up, their laughter echoing through the hallways replaced by the quiet buzz of teachers finishing up their duties. Then, you hear the distant sound of rubber soles slapping against the linoleum floor, approaching at a brisk pace. The door bursts open and in strides Mr Sturniolo, his eyes scanning the room frantically before they lock onto yours. His son, Tommy, who's a tiny bundle of energy, squirms in your arms as he calls out, "Daddy!"

Matt's cheeks are flushed with exertion, his tie askew, and his hair sticking up in every direction. You can see the lines of stress etched into his forehead, but when he sees you, his face relaxes into a relieved smile. "Thank you so much," he says, his voice a little too loud in the quiet room. "I had a meeting that ran over, and traffic was..." He trails off, shaking his head. You understand; the world of a single dad is often one of unpredictability and juggling responsibilities.

You hand over Tommy, who clings to your neck for a moment before launching himself into his dad's arms. "It's no problem," you reply with a smile. "We had a great time, didn't we?" The little boy nods enthusiastically, his eyes shining with excitement.

As they leave, you watch them go in a hurry, the chaos of the day seeming to dissipate around them. The hallways are empty, the lights flickering in the descending twilight. You pack up your things and head home, feeling a twinge of loneliness as the school falls silent around you. It's not every day you meet a parent who seems so genuinely thankful for your work.

-

The next morning, you're setting up the classroom when you see Matt standing in the doorway, Tomas tugging at his hand. He holds out a small box of chocolates to you, his eyes earnest. "I wanted to apologize again for yesterday," he says. "And thank you for keeping an eye on him. I know it's not part of your job, but..." His voice is gruff, and you can tell he's not used to being vulnerable. You take the chocolates, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. "It's okay," you reassure him. "It's what we're here for." He nods, his expression a mix of gratitude and something else. Something that makes your heart skip a beat.

As the days turn into weeks, you find yourself looking forward to the moments when you see Matt. His mornings are still hectic, but he always has a smile for you, and he makes a point to thank you every time he picks up his son. The two of you start to chat, sharing stories about the little one's antics and the challenges of single parenthood. You learn that he's a dedicated father, working long hours to provide for his child, and you can't help but admire his determination.

One afternoon, after the last child has been picked up, you're organizing the bookshelf when you hear a knock on the door. You turn to find Matt, Tommy nowhere in sight. "Could I speak with you for a moment?" he asks, his eyes searching yours. You nod, curious.

He steps into the room, closing the door behind him. "I know this is probably weird," he starts, "but I just wanted to say... I really appreciate what you do. For him, and for me." He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that somehow makes him even more endearing. "I don't know how I'd manage without people like you." He pauses, and you can see the weight of his words hanging in the air. "And I was wondering if maybe, when you're not busy, we could grab a coffee or something. Just to say thanks. Properly."

You're taken aback by the invitation, but the warmth in his eyes makes it difficult to refuse. "I'd like that," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "How about tomorrow after work?" He grins, the tension in his shoulders visibly easing. "It's a date," he says, and you can't help but blush at the term.

The next day seems to drag on forever, with every tick of the clock bringing you closer to the promised coffee. You're acutely aware of Matt's presence when he arrives to pick up his son, your heart racing every time you catch a glimpse of him. When the time finally comes, you grab your bag and walk with him to the small café across the street.

As you sit down, the café's warm lights reflecting off the polished wooden surfaces, you feel a mix of nerves and excitement. You've never done anything like this before, especially with a parent from your class. But something about Matt is different. He's not like the other dads who hover awkwardly or only engage in small talk. There's a depth to him, a raw honesty that draws you in.

The conversation starts off tentatively, with both of you sticking to safe topics like work and the school. But as the minutes stretch into an hour, you find yourselves delving deeper. He tells you about his life as a single dad, the struggles and the joys, and you open up about your passion for teaching and your hopes for the future. His laugh is contagious, and you find yourself smiling more than you have in a long time.

Then, in the middle of a story about his son's latest attempt at art, he looks at you with a glint in his eye and says, "So, tell me more about you, Y/N." You blush, surprised by his directness. It's clear he's trying to flirt, but you're his son's teacher, and there's a line you can't cross. You laugh it off, keeping the conversation light and professional.

The evening stretches on, the café slowly filling with the scent of freshly ground coffee beans and the murmur of other patrons. You both find yourself getting lost in conversation, sharing stories about your pasts and your hopes for the future. His son is a common thread, weaving through every topic, a reminder of the bond you share beyond the classroom.

As you sip on your now-cold coffee, you feel a pang of something unfamiliar. It's easy to be drawn to Matt's charm and the way he talks about his son with such love, but you know that this isn't just a casual chat between friends. You're his son's teacher, and there are boundaries that need to be respected. But the way he looks at you, with genuine interest and a hint of admiration, makes it hard to remember why this isn't a good idea.

Finally, you decide to address the elephant in the room. "Matt," you say firmly, setting down your cup. "I really appreciate the gesture, and I've enjoyed our time together, but I think we should keep things professional. I care about your son, and I don't want anything to jeopardize that relationship." He nods, understanding in his eyes. "You're right," he says with a sigh. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

The walk back to the kindergarten is a little awkward, the air thick with unspoken feelings. When you reach the door, he takes a step closer, his hand brushing yours. "Thank you," he says, his voice low. "For everything. And I'm sorry if I overstepped."

You smile, feeling a rush of affection for this man who's doing his best in a tough situation. "It's okay," you reply. "We're good." With a final nod, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there with a jumble of emotions.

That night, as you lay in bed, you can't help but think about Matt. The way his eyes lit up when he talked about his son, the way his hand felt against yours. You know that you can't let this go further, but you also know that you're going to look forward to seeing him in the mornings, even if it's just for a brief exchange about homework and school events. And maybe, just maybe, that's enough for now.

tags! @christophersgf @rainuhh @mattandchrismakemewett @gxldenlush @immattsslut @slut4chriss @stasiesturn @jetaimevous @solarsturniolo @watercolorskyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @meowira @secretagentspy @shadowthesim @baileysturns