#my first break from both school and work in like 2 years!

[noxturnalmoth]

Literary Service

Life is a cruel mother but a great teacher. In Noxus, where life is but an afterthought, war raises its people with an iron fist. Whether they like it or not. So when one is courageous enough to escape, they learn to take all that life has to offer, even if it has to be by the skin of their teeth. What would happen if the scholarship that provided you with an escape made you encounter a man as great with his words as he is with hiding the festering wounds in his heart? And what if he was your teacher?

Chapter 2: The Art of War

"You can call me Mr.Marlowe or Professor Marlowe, no casual naming shall be used when talking to or about me. I will be your literature professor this year, and should you find yourself unlucky, for the remainder of your years in this major aswell." His voice no louder than the noise of the chattering surrounding you, yet commanding silence as soon as its gravelly drawl bounces in the large room. High ceiling carrying his voice, the sound wrapping around each student and inspiring total obedience. His gait was slow, deliberate like a predator waiting on its prey, and with his gaze on you it certainly felt as if you were his next meal. You remember his warmth the day prior, although his pale skin was as cold as fine porcelain, and the gentleness of his touch. You also remember the burning orange eye, scalding as the flames that destroyed your home long ago, the bright iris glowing in the middle of a sclera as black as the obsidian freezing the rolling rage deep below your skin. He was an entirely different man in the class, all traces of softness gone, instead stood a comandeering presence; a relaxed and practiced straightness elongated his spine, prolonged by strong squared shoulders.

His eyes leave you as he drags them lazily over the rest of your class, a hand caressing his desk as he walks around it, sitting himself nonchalantly in his chair as he fishes a flash drive from his briefcase. When he turns the class computer on and turns the projector on, showcasing a list of titles, you brighten up. When you arrived in Zaun and were cradled back to health by your benefactors, you couldn't move for a month and searing pain took you as you walked for the next two. So you decided to use the time you had before class to do some research, entering your name in the Zaun Tech site and entering the student space. There were displayed your name, origin, major, and some messages from the board and teachers were in your message box, mainly congratulating you and welcoming you to the school. One was out of the ordinary though.

First year litterature students,

And if you find this to be a hassle, do not come whining to me about being unable to follow my class as I will not wait for you. You should read at least one book to spare both yourself and I some extra work.

as I do each year year, I have compiled here titles that you can, if you so wish, browse through at your leisure. The mind, like a blade, needs sharpening and the long summer break leaves it dull. So hone your reading lest you wish to complicate your back to school with warming up the slow inner mechanisms of your heads.

Welcome to the Zaun Technical College,

S. Marlowe.

And attached to it was a list of ten books ranging from classical litterature, to science-fiction, horror, gothic romance, young adult, poetry and even military strategy. The last one was no stranger to you, and although the other books had been delightful reads from the depth of your bed with your left leg and back surrounded by braces, your thoughts compiled into your notebook, something about the Art of War brought an uneasy sense of relief to you. It was waters you had sailed through before, and reading through the book felt more like gazing at memories you'd rather forget, with all its words engrained in your head, the book quickly discarded before you devoured what remained.

Mr. Marlowe walked back in front of his desk, leaning against it with his hips held by its edge as his wiry form crossed both arms and legs. "Although the list was not mandatory I hope you have read from it. Who amongst you has read through at least half of it?" His voice all but sneers, a dark irritated edge hardening the curve of his eye as he looked to the handful of hands spearing the air. "And I don't suppose anyone has read all of them." He says, words clipped and cold, rattling through the rest of the young people surrounding you. But his face tenses into a surprised frown as you raise your hand, his eyebrows softening in the early afternoon light. His tight sneer calming into a relaxed slight smirk, his head tilting to the side. "Did you now? Then I suppose I will hear a lot from you in this class?" He croons teasingly, his eyes disbelieving, the tumultuous seas of his stormy ocean eyes softened by the glow of something fonder. And as you place your arm back on your table and fiddle with your fingers at the sudden attention from everyone in the amphitheater, you nod a single assured shake of the head that has him huffing. Although from how he relaxed, it was something more akin to a genuine laugh than a mockery, but this man didn't seem to be the type to do the former so you could only theorize.

The class falls into complete silence as he snaps his fingers towards the first title, The Divine Comedy, an echoing sharp sound that sends your atoms in a frenzy as you straighten. A couple of classmates scramble to explain the book's plot, its genre, its author Dante Alighieri, and its publishing date in a messy and unstructured heap of words. An almost bored nod shakes Mr.Marlowe's head as he listens to the rushed and simplified explanations from students that either read through an explanation of said book, or simply skimmed it. Another snap of his fingers rang, slicing through the meek scrambling voices like a seamstress' scissors through silk. The next title, The Mask of The Red Death by Edgar Allan Poe, was described by mumbled answers forced out of students' mouths followed by yet another snap. The Shining, snap. The Hunger Games, snap. Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, snap. Again and again, until the last book. Your face screwing in discomfort at obvious fallacies and poor research or reading comprehension as your classmates presented the tomes compiled in the professor's list. The atmosphere became heavy as the last snap rang, students looking at each other and whispering in rushed and scared voices from the display of power from the tall, lithe and commanding man. His dark clothes sucking up all the light in the warmly lit cream colored room, wordlessly ordering attention towards his form, eye lidded, body relaxed yet seemingly ready to pounce, although at what you had no idea.

"The Art of War by Master Sun Tzu, sir." His head tilts as a heavy exhale leaves his lungs and a small rictus makes its way to his sneering lips, slicing through his face like a butcher's cleaver saws flesh and bone. Dissatisfied nonchalance replaced by something akin to patient curiosity, nothing but the slight shift of his shoulders and the light unclenching of his hands and jaw to prove the change. "The Art of War or Sūnzǐ Bīngfǎ, was written approximately in the 5th century by Ionian born Noxian commander Master Sun Tzu. It contains 13 chapters, each devoted to a certain skillset or as he called them 'arts' and their applications in military strategy and tactics. Another Ionian born Noxian warrior, Sir Shenzong of Song, used The Art of War to create his anthology: the Seven Military Classics. The original is mostly known for the quote 'know thy enemy' although one of those most revered amongst Noxians is: 'When the enemy is relaxed, make them toil. When full, starve them. When settled, make them move'." You recite, words flowing from your mouth before your brain could follow, it was an easy yet impossible task to speak those words that were carved into your flesh many years ago. But as you look back up, your ashamed gaze heavy and dragging your head down into a bow, your eyes find Mr.Marlowe.

His face had relaxed, jaw unclenched, arms holding him in a backwards lean against his desk as the teal of his iris drinked in your form, like small sips from a tumbler full of expensive whiskey. The intensity of his gaze was akin to a sandstorm in the burning deserts of Shurima, but it was not violent. No, it was inquisitive, your words had been too smooth and calculated, as if repeated time and time again, your body had stiffened in a strained familiar manner, eyes blank; and you knew it. Just like he'd uttered his commands yesterday, your body reacted to the book similarly, bone deep obedience dripping from your very being yet no weakness in sight, a perfect little carved wooden soldier albeit worn by time and use. Your lips purse. "Piltovan priest Jesuit Jean Joseph Amiot translated it and published the final version in 1772, although it was republished in 1782. The Demacian Lionel Giles also published his own annotated version in 1910." You trail off, hands cupping over one another in an attempt for comfort as your classmates eyes pierce through you like poisoned daggers. The acrid taste of what feels like bitter judgement slowly pooling in your stomach before being soothed by three, slow methodical claps coming from the man at the front of the room. "You lot should take notes into how to properly present literary works like.." He tilts his head at you and you reveal your name, voice tight at uttering it around so many people whose attention was placed solely on you. Mr. Marlowe nods and repeats your name, using it to end his sentence, finality ringing like a blacksmith striking his hammer onto glowing metal.

The rest of class is spent with the svelte man describing the syllabus, his office hours and explaining what his teaching method entailed. He was harsh, expectant, refused to push deadlines unless catastrophic events struck, but he would never refuse to help and re-explain as many times as needed and was just in his grading. Soon came the time to leave and as you stood up, one hand holding your table and the other your crutch, you felt the throbbing pain of earlier's rushing make its way through your weary bones. A quick look at your phone showcased the hour, your next class would be in quite a while but with how unfamiliar you were with the campus and your limp you knew it'd take longer than it would've, had you been able bodied. Your spiral notebook and pencil case were soon back in their place in your messenger bag as you made your way out of the room. "Could I steal you for a moment before you get to where you need to be?" The gravelly yet deceptively soft voice of Mr.Marlowe made itself known as you turned. Eyeing the now sitting man, one hand elegantly holding a pen as he wrote down notes while the other held his head up, at his words you felt a pull and, unable to resist it, one foot stepped forward.

So you made your way towards him, body reacting before you could even process the words, like a sailor succumbing to a siren's song. Yet again the man had puppeteered your body, it was vexing and terrifying. A heavy weight in your stomach as you struggled to figure why he had such control over you. Were you such a well trained beast that you obeyed orders blindly even from a stranger, or was it just him. But if it was, why was it that he could wipe your mind of all the constant, loud, parasitic noise; how did he do it, and most importantly why did it look like, albeit he was in control, he was as surprised as you were. Maybe it was his gentle touch and patient words from yesterday? It couldn't be that, at least not entirely, because he had broken you out of your violent, monstrous rage before that. Your face sours in thought as you lose yourself in the noise yet again, body straight from your feet to your head as settle into the classic Noxian stance, body searching for any familiarity to comfort itself from your confused train of thought.

"At ease." And yet again, all the tension in your muscles ebbs away like seafoam on jagged boulders, piercing the saltwater surrounding them. Your eyes trail to the sitting man who was still preparing his notes, his handwriting an elegant cursive flowing from his pen with practiced ease. "You seemed to want to correct a lot of what your classmates said." He sighs as he leans back, pen settled on the ink covered paper, arms draped over the arms of the chair, and his eye staring at you with a calm curiosity you were not used to. "Well a lot of their facts were shallow, and I suppose they just didn't organize their ideas properly at times and it felt messy. They also got some informations false. For exemple The Mask of the Red Death is a gothic novella, not a fantasy. And Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone was published in 1997 unlike what they said, the movie though was indeed released in 2001." Voice steady yet almost meek you explain the reasons of your tension during class, one hand rubbing at your nape as a hum vibrates the air around you. Mr.Marlowe was softly swerving to side to side on the office chair, right elbow planted on one of the arms as his hand holds his chin, eyes pensively staring through you, a small smile making its way on his scarred lips. "You did read them all then. Something I have stopped expecting after some time as a professor. There is chance for us yet." He nods absentmindedly and leans forward, elbows on the desk as his hands fold together to hold his chin, the crows feet cornering his eye slowly erased as a sigh pushes its way from his throat as if it was escaping his lungs, rushing out of him. "How have you been fairing since yesterday? I hope rest came easy after such an episode, gods know the remnants of inner demons can still drag you back to hell." Your eyebrows furrow at that, not only had he helped you but he also took it upon himself to oversee your state afterwards. It was strange being given such attention, and although kind people took you in when you arrived in Zaun and nursed you back to health, you still couldn't trust such gentleness blindly; the voices in your head growling and hissing in distrust like a pit of starved vipers. But even through the loud fussing, you still couldn't find it in yourself to lie or hide such informations from him, at least out of respect for his earlier kindness.

"I immediately caved in to sleep, sir. Unfortunately it seems I exhausted more energy than I believed and slept through my first two classes." You hear a sharp intake of breath and, looking up, see his eye narrow, eyes raking up and down like clawed beastly paws trying to rip at your carefully crafted façade. One which showed more control than you could actually execute over yourself, your life, or others. "Then I believe I should be glad you've decided to show up to mine. Another class of uninterested young adults would have frayed the last of my patience for the day." His voice almost purrs, dark and playful, like the slow rumble of thunder under rolling black clouds, a flash of chipped teeth in his smirk serving as the lightning punctuating his sentence. His gaze was analytical, each part of you picked apart and pulled back together but from the twitch of his eyebrow it felt like he didn't find whatever it was that he was looking for. "I have also taken the liberty to contact the board about yesterday, you will not be held accountable for your episode as I have made it very clear that what happened was beyond even yourself." It was your turn to inhale, a sharp hiss leaving you as your lungs expanded and your spine strained at the movement, eyes narrowing at the man sitting in front of you in question. Lips pursing in thought as he threw you off yet again, why was he doing all of this, what were his intentions and what did he want in return? "I don't wish to sound ungrateful, but why sir?" His eye closes as he shakes his head, two strands of tar black hair spilling over his forehead like ink in water. "People like us are rarely seen in a good light when our demons take a hold of us and twist us into a monster. If we do not have each other's backs, who will?" His hand rakes through his hair, placing the strands back in place. Your heart was heavy, as if the blood pumped through it was lead, your stomach churning as one piece of the puzzle was revealed to you, people like us. He was like you, different yes, but he knew the horrors of the world as well as you did and came out alive, born anew. Before you could let your train of thought bring you back to the recesses of your mind you look at the clock and wince at the time that has passed.

"I will not keep you any longer, do not rush to class you'll need your energy for it. I will see you on thursday." And with that, you leave, only answering with a nod as you grip your crutch and bag tighter, your throat too closed up for any words to leave your mouth. The rest of the day goes by fast after Mr.Marlowe's class and luckily you can rip your mind away from the thoughts of him. It may have been hidden, but you shiver at the thought of the eye beneath the eyepatch, the scars marring his face like paths leading to the gates of hell. It was as if it still looked at you, through you, even through the thick leather it pierced you like a hunter's bullet pierces his prey. At home later, a boiling shower akin to the ones you were given in Noxus cleared your mind of the nagging curiosity slowly growing stronger. Food was simple and rest was back to the usual terror filled nightmares, cold sweat carving into your skin like water eroding stone. So instead of going back to sleep, you read, preparing homework that you had weeks to finish to occupy and cool your frenzied mind. You were not late for or missed any class that day and the day went quite well, a soft and gentle smile stretching across your lips at the prospect of your life being so tranquil now as you walked to the college's grand library. A beautiful carved stone building topped by a glass dome, the inside showcasing rows of tables and immense bookshelves stretching for what seemed like miles on end. By the time you left to return to your dorm, all of the homework you were assigned was done, neatly pinned together in small files. In thursday's literature class you gave back the homework given on monday as you entered the room, hands brushing Mr.Marlowe's as he hummed in surprise, taking the neat file. "I didn't expect anyone to be so dedicated, yet it's no surprise that if someone had to be it would be you." A twinge of delight colors his dark voice, brightening it enough for you to hear it. And somehow, and without your consent, your body preens at the praise, as if you were a cat being pet lovingly by its master. The mere thought bringing both discomfort, and something bitter and unknown, it was envy but not in a way you knew. It was more raw. "The grand library is the prime working environment, I finished my homework before I knew it. It was as if I was possessed." You chuckle softly, remembering how after entering the library everything felt more like a blur as you excitedly worked over your assignments, finishing them quickly yet not rushed. The man nods softly. "I'm glad it felt that way, the library is indeed a beauty and it's a shame not more people see it the way we do." You agree quickly before making your way to the same desk as last time, crutch laid on the ground and necessary material set on the desk as more students poured into the room, the class soon beginning.

"As explained monday, our first semester will be focusing on Demacian literature from the previous century, its themes and its growing influence over the mentalities in its homeland and all over Runeterra." The man says pacing as the presentation is projected over a blank screen, his long fingers holding a remote and pressing to change slides whenever Mr.Marlowe finished explaining it and its contents. "We will begin reading The Stranger by Albert Camus in class, but I expect all of you to have it by monday to facilitate all the aspects of our work together. You are also encouraged to get the rest of the books annotated in the syllabus list for the semester so you don't need to worry about getting them later." His voice drawls, eyes raking through the crowd lazily before he opens the book and starts reading. Voice spearing through the warm air of the class like the blades you held once upon a time ripping through the flesh of your enemies, innocent or not. Minds compelled and coaxed into listening by the dark velvet of his tone, like children entranced by the pied piper, leading them to the ends of the world. He was focused, not a word fumbled, pacing guiding you through the words with impeccable timing, voice changing just a smidge when he needed to voice a character, different yet still very much him. Sometimes his eye would trail off, mouth still speaking the words etched onto each page as if he carved them in the bedrock of his mind. And sometimes, you would catch him, nodding in what could only be described as reverance, a certain admiration at his perfected reading; as if he channeled the very essence of the author through his being and offered it to his students, wrapped up with a bow made of his voice.

And you took the gift, cradling the words in your heart and drinking in Mr.Marlowe's timbre as he uttered the sentences inscribed on the pages. As he comes to a stop the slow tap of his closing book resounds through the room, sounding more like a bomb than a pile of pages bound together by a string. "What can you tell me about this book that makes it so different than usual Demacian tomes?" He leans against his desk, legs and arms crossed like on monday, teal eye tracing a line through the class like the horizon separates the sea and the sky. "Demacia is known for being a nation of strong morals and honor, which could be a good thing but their pride also serves as a fault. They see themselves as judge and jury more often than not. But Mr.Camus, in this book, describes a man lacking any passion, any grief, any honor or morals. He is empty, some thoughts even make him seem nearly despicable. He is flacid, takes no initiative, he's like driftwood in the ocean, impassible and flowing wherever the waves bring him, he seems more like an object than a human." You say, voice strong yet a slight waver concludes your explanation and Mr.Marlowe nods an appreciative hum coming from his throat. "Indeed. Whereas traditional Demacian behavior is usually confident, morally strong and leaning towards an almost impossible sense of self-righteous justice, Camus here depicts a man at the complete opposite. It doesn't mean he is actively trying to do wrong, no, that would require effort that our protagonist has no intentions of giving. Whether he can or cannot is something I will let all of you theorize. He is indeed empty, a shell with human shape but lacking anything that would make him remotely human in a philosophical sense. He does not even grieve his deceased mother."

You absorb every word, pen gliding on paper as you write all that is discussed. "While his lack of grief could possibly be explained by depression or any other psychological cause of the like that could hinder his emotional response, he also shows no contentment. None at spending time with his friends, none at doing anything at all, no motivation whatsoever in seeking contenment either. He seems to be in a stagnating state of disinterest at everything in the world, even more so towards himself, albeit self-centered at times in his reflection." Teal eye cuts to you, dragging you to the depths of its self contained ocean. "What do we call this lack of motivation and drive, this lack of want or need to feel anything pleasurable or good?" His voice questions, voice seemingly darker, hands braced on each side of his hips against the desk. "Anhedonia, sir." His chest grows in a heavy, quick breath, that almost sounds like a hiss as he releases it. As if a vicious serpent crawled out of his body, but no bitter venom came at you, only the vision of his stiffened shoulders and hands clenching a little more over the edge of the desk. "Indeed." His voice is back to its usual controlled drawl and his body relaxes as class continued, ending just short of 2 minutes after the appointed time. As students rush out, you take your time, not wanting to get pushed and trampled as you limped your way out, you've learned the hard way since becoming disabled that not many care for proper etiquette and you would have to look out for yourself alone.

"Not only are you extremely well versed in military strategies and tactics, able to recite excerpts of ancient manuals with practiced ease and explain them clearly and in their entirety. You are also very attentive at every new project you are given. I applaud you for your dedication." A soft gasp escapes you as Mr.Marlowe's voice shakes the empty room, stopping your slow walk to the exit. "You must be one of the more passionate students I've had the chance to teach." Your back screams at you as you turn towards the man, slowly pacing towards him as he talks, and a small smile stretches on your face. Your heart once again warming at his praise, drinking it like a drunkard does alcohol. "I am here because I love reading and writing, I love thinking, I love seeing all the ways we can show our humanity through literature, the good and the bad. Why would I not pay attention? Why would I not want to dig deeper within the pages until I can find the hidden meanings?" He chuckles, a short soft sound leaving his throat before he can wrangle it into submission. "The Noxian determination is without limit I see. Maybe your ethic will spur on your classmates into taking less time to wake up from their holiday filled stupor. I, for one, would appreciate that very much." His legs cross in his chair as he writes down, notes and pages filled with cursive shaped black ink. He sighs softly and a page turns, his eye tracing over your face pensively before he clasps his hands together in a relaxed manner. "I would like to make an inquiry. It would be an indulgence for me to ask, but I figured that it wouldn't hurt to try." You tilt your head at his words. "What is it, sir?" Clasped hands tighten and cheek twitches almost lost to your keen eye had you blinked.

His hands separate and he holds his pen again, writing a succession of words on the blank page, the cursive becoming intellegible as he turns the paper your way.

The Odyssey by Homer

You bend softly, a wince stopping your descent, and grasp the paper. "I would like you to, if you wish, read this book and come to see me during office hours to discuss it. Take the time you need, do not rush yourself, I am simply asking you to indulge me. Not many students have your passion, or at least they hide it quite expertly, so it is a refreshing sight. I would like to share some time sharing knowledge with a like minded individual rather than simply entrusting it upon someone." His words sink in, he only wished for someone to be as interested in litterature as he was? Coming from a man with such a strong, comandeering aura, it felt almost childish. Yet you couldn't bring yourself to refuse, the books you were given in the list were nothing short of great and if they were anything to go by, you'd guess the rest of his picks were just as pleasing to read. "Of course sir, I'd be honored. I've finished all of my assignments for the moment so I'll try to read and analyze this book over the weekend. I could come.." You trail off, thinking about how you wanted to make good of your free time to read and maybe read again the book he proposed to give a discussion worth his expectations. "Next friday, at around 5 p.m?" He caps his pen and tidies his desk. "That would be perfect. I'll be expecting great things in your report, but especially that you enjoyed my recommendation." His voice is soft as he places his books in his briefcase. Coat plucked from the back of his chair as he rose up. "If it's anything like what you put in the summer list, I know I will." You nod a respectful goodbye and wish him a good weekend as you walk out, heading to the library to get the book so you could read it in the comfort of your bed.

At home, before sleeping, you slip in the comfort of your bed and open The Odyssey, notebook and pencil next to you so you could take pauses and note your thoughts and ideas. Falling asleep after hours of reading as your eyes trace the words written on the pages. Nightmares waking you in the dead of night and making it impossible to fall back asleep. You decided to continue and opened your book back up, realizing that reading will at least soften the anguish provided by the nightly horrors you face. Friday wasn't anything special, and at night you tucked yourself into bed with your books again. The epic of Odysseus, king of Ithaca, and the trials and tribulations he had to face exciting you, pulling at your heartstrings and lulling you to sleep. Saturday and sunday were spent all day reading, book clutched in your hands as you ate and did your daily chores, even taking it for grocery shopping or to get the books Mr.Marlowe wanted for class. Monday's class went fast. "I am done with the book but I want to read it again to see what I might've missed." You utter to the tall man as his fingers click on a laptop's keyboard and he hums. His face lifting a bit to look at you. "Be careful, you'll make me raise my expectations." He teases, voice light and you huff out a laugh. "Whatever expectations you throw at me I'll put all my might into exceeding." It was his turn to chuckle as you smile. "I know you will." And with that you leave, evening routine continuing until friday.

The whole day was spent pacing in your dorm, you sat in bed, then in one of the chairs near your small kitchen, then back on your bed. It was as if you were a starved, caged lion, the prospect of discussing the book with your professor warming you from the inside out. You were making someone proud, and it was not by accomplishing deeds of great violence and being a glorified mass murderer in an army originating from the depths of hell itself. No, he was proud solely because you were passionate about the subject he was teaching. It was as simple as that. So when the time came to leave, you went to the building his office was set in with a metaphorical pep in your pained step. After asking around at the reception you walk towards the left corridor, stepping in its empty space while windows let in the golden light from the setting sun. You straighten and knock three times, a hummed "come in" making you turn the doorknob and shuffle inside. The smell of tobacco immediately hitting your senses as you close the door behind you. Turning around you see Mr.Marlowe at a big mahogany desk, decorated with carved mythological figures, pouring over files as he smoked a cigar. The window was wide open, probably to not to imbibe the room with the smell, although it seems that was too late. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with books of all sizes, some thicker than others, and to your left were a small coffee table and a maroon velvet covered couch, the same maroon velvet that was on the seats and backrets of the chairs facing the grand desk.

"Needless to say you liked it?" You nod as you drink from a water bottle he handed you and he chuckles. "A life of violence can do multiple things. Leave you dead, leave you unable to move on, or leave you with a thirst for all that humanity has to offer. I'm glad to see you are the latter, as am I." Your eyebrows furrow and your head tilts, eyes appraising the man in front of you. His teal eye, the other being similar to a topaz cushioned on black velvet, the scars on his face, the grey hairs caressing his temples, the black shirt, slightly opened at the top. He wasn't acting any different than usual, but maybe it was the proximity or the fact you were alone with him in his office that made his words ring so much louder. The remnants of the class' energy not here to protect you from the comandeering aura of the man in front of you, who looked to be observing you just as much as you were observing him. Two predators in the wild, but one was always going to be the prey, and as his eyes picked you apart yet again, you realized it was you. It was terrifying, someone wanting to know and see you, because no matter what he had seen you knew he'd probably turn in disgust and shun you if he knew and saw everything that you were. A monster. Your nightmares never failed to remind you that fact as they stopped you from getting more than 5 hours of rest per night.

"Ah, there you are. I will not lie that I've been expecting you, even since before the appointed time. Take a seat." Your body obeys him again, slowly setting yourself on one of the chairs you sigh at your unwilling reaction before setting your crutch down andfishing for your notes in your bag, left leg stretched to the side of the desk. When you came back up, his papers had been discarded in neat piles on the side of his desk and one of his hands held up his head, his eyepatch discarded. "I won't lie that I've been pacing all day too, sir. I read the book three times in the span of a week so I could be as thorough as possible and I couldn't wait to get to you." Your voice softly declares with a smile as you open your notebook and he chuckles, waving his hand for you to begin. Words fall from your lips, at first hesitant and unsure but at his gentle stare, the burning eye somehow coaxing you with warm kindness instead of burning you with scalding anger, your voice turns more confident and, with time, even excited. He nods and quips as you decribe all your notes, lending them over to him, your hands accompanying your words in frantic movements. It was as if your mind turned off, his approving gaze, encouraging words and small smirk enough to spur you on. By the time you're finished, almost panting after gods know how long, you notice just how satisfied Mr.Marlowe looks, almost proud. And your insides shiver in delight at that, his approval causing reactions in your body and mind that you didn't even know you could have.

"You left." His voice takes you away from the spiral of your own mind. "What do you mean, sir?" Your voice shakes and he sighs, stubbing out his cigar as the smoke escapes his mouth. "I look at all of my first year students' profiles, it helps me decypher their motivations, ways to push them to do their best. You are from Noxus, and gods know leaving this hellish place is hard if you aren't a noble. Actually, you would know too, wouldn't you?" The bottle crinkles as you hold it tight, fighting off a sneer as you look away in shame. "What if I do?" "Then I'd say your crutch is a consequence. And that the episode you had that day was but the surface of the deep painful abyss left behind by the war, filling every crack of your broken mind with unfathomable darkness." Breath stuttering, your eyes find his, but you don't find disgust, no you find gentle understanding. "And what do you want from me then, sir?" His eyebrows furrow and he leans forward. "For you to see that you can and deserve to heal." He rises, chair creaking at the loss of his weight as he walks towards one of the bookshelves, perusing the selection until his long fingers grasp a tome. Your body is tense, shaking slightly as he approaches you from the side, gently placing a book in front of you as he leans back on the table.

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

"Why?" You try as hard as you can to keep your voice from cracking while looking down, in confusion or from the whirlwind of emotions currently clashing in your heart you do not know. And although your voice stays steady, the grit in it is unusual enough for Mr.Marlowe to sigh as his hand finds your chin and turns your face to him gently. "So you can indulge me some more, I enjoyed our discussion today and would love to have more if you'll have me." His voice purrs low, a softness to it that you would think impossible to be directed towards you. "That's not.." Your voice chokes out, that's not what I meant, was what you meant to say. But it seems like he knew with how his grip on your chin slightly clenches, bringing you back to Earth before your mind sunk back down into the ocean of self-hatred that was your soul. "You will come next friday, same time. If you haven't finished the book by then, we'll read it together, but I will still listen to what you have written about it." His grip leaves your chin with what almost felt like a caress as you grab the book. Heart pounding, head turning and stomach churning. Who was he, and what did he want? Your mind yells at you against following him in the dance he wishes to lead, warning you about bad intentions, about darkness both your own and his, about violence and pain. But as you look into his eyes and remember his praise and gentleness, your mind and body separate, the latter operating without a pilot as it itches to answer. "I'll do my best not to disappoint you, sir." Is what you utter, obedience bleeding into the inner hatred you hold towards yourself, burnt into every fiber of your being. And as he brushes his hand over one of yours, brows furrow, tears almost threaten to leave your eyes and your throat closes up.

"I don't think you ever will."

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[jellolegos]

Priory of the Orange Tree

(Kylie Bunbury as my Ead // Katie McGrath as my Sabran)

[dyketennant]

i think next semester is finally going to be the one that gives me a heart attack and kills me 💞

[lov3notts]

"you what?"

ᥫ᭡Theodore Nott x F!Readerᥫ᭡

summary: accidentally drinking a lust potion, you asked your best friend Theo for help.

warning: smut, cursing, unprotected sex, size kink maybe? cream pie.

word count: 2.4k

18+only; minors don’t interact

“You what?” Theo’s eyes widened, you wanted him to do what? He wasn’t sure if this was a dream or not but if it was he didn’t want to wake up

Earlier that day , you had accidentally drank a lust potion. 

How, you might ask?

Well the boys (Enzo/ Mattheo) thought it would be funny to prank Draco by giving him a lust potion as payback for pranking them earlier that week

At lunch the 2 boys were there first, taking their usual spots they slip the potion to a bottle of Draco's favorite drink and placing it on the spot were Draco usually sits

One by one the group gets to the table ,leaving you and Draco left. 

Soon both of you walk in, but you seem to be in a rush

“Sorry guys I can’t stay and chat, I have to get back to studying, i’m just here to get some food to eat while studying” grabbing random things and the only drink you see left, you quickly stuff it in your purse

“Wait y/n!” Enzo saying frantically, giving Matt a worried look

You look up at Enzo as you start to zip up your bag. “Yeah?” 

“We were actually saving that for Draco, um- were having practice later and that’s his favorite”

“Omg I’m so sorry! Here-“ as your opening you bag Draco comes behind you , going to sit down 

“I actually got my own drink, y/n can have it” Dracos says while pulling out his drink from his bag,

Enzo’s and Mattheos’s eye widen.

“I- um, but we got it for you” Matt says with a bit of a shaky voice 

“Its fine, I don’t need it” as he waves his drink showing the 2 boys

“But-“ 

“Omg thank you Draco, I really have to go now guys see you later” you say as you're walking away before the boys have a chance to take away the drink.

Both Enzo and Matt try to call you back but you’re already gone, both freaking out inside. praying you don't find out what they did.

While studying in your dorm you couldn’t focus for more than 10 seconds. Thinking you might just be tired from all the studying you took a break. Getting up from your desk you head towards your bed. Laying in your bed you start to space out

At first it was all innocent thoughts, school, weekend plans but then they started to shift The only thing you could think of was pleasure. Thinking of a certain boy made your cunt throb, making your body hot

Your hand slowly creeps down to your shorts. Slowly playing with yourself imagining it was Theo’s fingers rubbing circles on your clit.

“Oh god Theo” you moaned 

but no matter how good it felt you couldn’t reach your climax. You were so needy and nothing was working. The rising heat from your body only made things more uncomfortable.

“God what is wrong with me, and why is it so hot” getting up from your bed you walk towards your desk, trying to find your drink, in hopes of it cooling you down . You picked up the bottle and before you can finish the drink you saw something written on the bottom of the bottle

“Payback- Enzo and Mattheo”

Your eyes widened with confusion. 

What?

Then you remembered how the drink was meant for Draco. 

everything started to make sense

This is why you were like this

You couldn’t even be mad at them, Your mind was clouded with the urge to get any satisfaction you could. all you wanted was any sort of pleasure but nothing was good enough. it started to get painful and a sudden thought popped in your head. Theo

he’d help right? He was really the only one you can go to. 

Your heart was racing at just the thought of Theo agreeing to help you out, being best friends all these years you had developed a crush on him, of course you never acted on it because you didn’t want to ruin your friendship 

Pacing back and forth your room, you finally decide to ask him for help. Nervously picking up your phone, you open Theo’s contact.

“Theo?”

“Hey Bella, what’s up?”

The nickname itself making you get butterflies.

 “Um- I need a favor, can you come over?”

“Of course, i'll be over in a few”

“Okay see you” hanging up the phone, your thoughts begin to consume you

What if he says no?

What if he laughs at your face and runs off

What if…

What if he says yes… 

Before you can continue, there was a knock on your door. That must be him. Slowly walking to your door, palms sweaty, you turn your door knob

“Hey, what did you need help with?” Theo goes in to give you a hug

Hugging him back, your nose is infused with his cologne  

God why does he always smell so good

He lets go and looks at you closely, he moves a strain of hair behind your ear to have a better look at you. His eyebrows frown, noticing your face is flustered and incredibly warm.

“Are you okay? Your face is warm” resting his hand on your cheek

“Yeah, um actually funny story-“ Quickly leading him to sit on the edge of your bed, holding his hands as you begin to explain

“Please just hear me out. I know it's odd ,but I have no one to go to,- just please-“ falling to your knees, begging.

“Hey hey, breathe. You know I'm here if you need anything. Now tell me, what’s up?” Theo's eyes looking at you with worry.

“Please I- I need you to fuck me” you blur out

That was the last thing Theo thought would come out of your mouth. 

You wanted him to what???

He was speechless, absolutely at a loss of words. jaw wide open

“Please, I'm sorry for asking you for this, I know it’s a lot and we’re best friends. But please I can’t take it anymore. I accidentally drank something that wasn’t meant to me and it had this effect on me. I’ve tried everything but nothing is working. I need your help please” your face heating up from embarrassment . I mean you only ever had the biggest crush on your best friend for years, but what you didn’t know was that so did Theo.

Theo had dreamt of the day he got to be with you.

How’d he spend hours pleasuring himself of the thought of you under him, on top of him and how good you’d take him in your mouth. God, was he hard the second you asked him to help you out.

How could he say no? 

Without another thought he picked you up from the floor. Sitting down back on your bed while you straddled his lap.

Looking into your eyes, moving a piece of your hair behind your ear, resting his hand on your cheek, he leaded in.  

Your soft lips on his, both whimpering into the intense kiss. Licking your bottom lip asking for access. You gladly gave it to him. 

Slowly rocking your hips on his clothed boner, trying to find any friction to satisfy you.

Slowly laying you down your bed, taking off your clothes until you were left in nothing but your matching black lace set. 

“Don’t worry Bella, i’ll take good care of you” Theo whispers as he starts to leave a trail of kisses down your body

“Theo please~” you pleaded, needing to feel something, anything.

“poor thing, you’ve must of been so uncomfortable for such a long time, don’t worry i’m here now”

He stopped to look at your lying body, face all flustered, messy hair. 

“God you’re so beautiful” he wasn’t lying, he’d always thought you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Always jealous of your ex boyfriends because they got to be with you. But now it was his turn and he was going to give you the best you’d ever gotten, he was going to ruin every other guy you’ve been with. 

Slowly pulling your panties off, dick throbbing at the sight of your wet glistening pussy. Trying to ignore his throbbing cock and focus on you, he gives you a sweet smile. 

“You're soaking wet, so ready for me” leaving little kisses around your pussy, teasing. finally burying his face between your legs, painfully slow licks as he takes it in, savoring every moment. 

As soon as you felt his tongue, you became a whimpering mess.  

“Theo~ oh my god yes” moving your hand to his hair, giving it a little tug. 

Theo couldn’t hold it in anymore, he started to devour you. eating you out as if he’d never get this opportunity ever again

“You taste so fucken good” he groaned against your dripping core. The vibrations sending you waves of pleasure 

“More please, Theo! oh my god~” it felt so good, his tongue making you feel things you’ve never felt before with anyone else

“So polite, even when your so needy” Theo smirked as he sees how much of a mess you were for him

He starts so pump one of his fingering into you while eating you out. Soon enough you felt the feeling you were craving for

“M-so close, fuck Theo i’m so close”

He stops what he’s doing, getting up grasping on his zipper and undoing the button. Tugging his jeans and boxers off. 

“Theo? Why’d you stop? I was so close” you looked at him with teary eyes. you were so close, god why did he stop

“Sorry princess, I wanna be in you, want you cum on my cock” godddd was he hot

His cock strung out his pants hitting his stomach , you were lost for words. In no world was Theodore Nott small, he was big- huge even. you’ve never taken anything close to his size.

Theo noticed your starring

“Like what you see?” A smile tugged the corner of his lips

“Don’t worry you can take it, I know you can”

You nodded at his works 

He lined himself up to your pussy, tracing himself up and down, teasing you.

“You have no idea how long i've been wanting to do this for” 

“Fuck ,Theo please, please fuck me” you whined 

“Anything for you, love”

he slowly pushed himself into you. You both let out a loud moan. 

“fuck, your so tight” Theo was out of breath.

You felt so good around him that he never wanted this moment to end.

“fuck Theo your big” you said panting 

“You think you can take more?”

More???

“There’s more??” Looking at Theo with a disbelief face

He chuckled “i’m only have way”

“Don’t worry you can handle it, can’t you baby?”

“Mhm- yes yes, I can take it”

Pushing the reset of himself into you. bottoming you out. heavily breathing, getting comfortable with the feeling of him stretching you out. 

“good girl ,You’re doing so well for me, are you ready?”

“Yes! fuck-please move, please” you begged

Brining your legs above his shoulders and laying them there. Gripping your ankles to keep you steady as he started to thrust into you. Both a moaning mess

“Fuck fuck fuckkk, Theo-” your eyes roll back, arching your back.

“You feel so good Bella, oh god-“ panting 

“Your squeezing me tight- fuck”

One of his hands moving to your waist. fucking you harder now, unable to stop. His cock was so fucking good, hitting your g-spot every time.

“Fuck Theo just like that, don’t stop, don’t stop please!” Your hands holding onto your bed sheets as he rocks his hips.

“You like that huh? You like it when your best friend is pounding into you, god you look so beautiful, taking all of me like a good girl” he groans while leaving kisses on your ankle.

Your walls clenching at his words

He groaned again as he felt your cunt throb at his praise. 

“Oh you like being called a good girl don’t you?” letting go of your ankle to grip your jaw to make you look at him.

“Who's a good girl are you?” Theo says as he speeds up his thrusts

Looking at him with half lidded eyes “Yours, all yours!!~“ you moan

“That’s right all mine, no one can ever make you feel this good, isn’t that right love?”

 “Mhm only you, ah~ i'm so close”

“Cum for me baby, come all over my cock”

You were absolute bliss, god you’ve never seen fucked this good, yeah you’ve had other hookups but nothing can compared to this, to Theo

You moaned loudly, shutting your eyes as you reached your orgasm “im- im cumming!!” Your body shaking from the overwhelming feeling

The way your walls clenched from cumming made Theo on the verge of spilling. He continues to thrust into you through your first orgasm. He didn’t expect you make such a mess all over his dick, your cum spilling out of you as he thrusts into you

You felt Theo twitch inside of you, knowing he’s close you moved his hand from your waist to your breasts.

“Mmm so soft…” Theo whispered. leaning down, putting his tongue on your nipple, swirling it around. “Mmm Theo that feels good” throwing your head back from a little act. Theo was soon approaching his climax.  

“Fuckk- can I cum inside of you? please oh god I can’t hold it anymore, please? Fuck-” Theo begged as he tried to hold it in, waiting for you response 

“Yes!! fuck Theo cum inside me” you practically screamed as you felt you stomach tighten.

He let out a loud moan as he spilled his cum inside of you. You screamed as you felt his warm cum spilling in you, triggering your second orgasm.

Theo’s thrusts became sloppy, riding out both your highs. He pulled out and laid beside you. Dizzy and breathless, taking a moment to catch your breath.  Finally when you both got steady, you look up at Theo

“Thank you Theo, really”

“No need to thank me Bella, you can come to me for anything anytime” smiling at you.

crawling onto his lap you whispered into his ear “stay the night? I don’t think the drink has worn off just yet~”

This was going to be a long night for Theo.

ᥫ᭡reblog's & comment's are appreciatedᥫ᭡

a/n: Thank you for reading my first ever fic!! a special mention to @leona-hawthorne for being an angel and giving me feedback on my first rough draft. It helped a lot:)!! another honorable mention to @nottsangel!! Im that anon who mentioned writing their first story, hope you like it^-^ thank you both, your blogs have inspired me to start writing. xoxo

©lov3notts ,do not copy, translate or claim any of my writing or works as your own.

[ba9go]

(nsfw) bestfriend!bakugou catches you sneaking over

🔞 minors please do not interact!!! nsfw under the cut

bestfriend!bakugou x fem!reader, college au (bkg & reader are both of legal age), masturbation, heavy petting, loss of virginity, degradation, teasing, praise kink, fingering, clitoral stimulation, rough sex

summary: you get caught masturbating in his bed

part 3/3 of the bestfriend!bakugou likes to sneak over series (completed)

back to part 1 (sfw) 💥 part 2 (sfw)

about a month after katsuki’s parents found out about you, his darling best friend since childhood and now his girlfriend, sneaking over late at night, they gave you a spare key to the house. you had initially refused their offer, red-faced and stammering profusely, “nononono, i couldn’t! this is too much—” but mitsuki kept insisting, and katsuki couldn’t stand anymore of her damn whining and told you to just take the damn key. you relented.

the next day, katsuki decided to hit the gym after school and told you to go home first.

“huh? but your mom’s cooking dinner tonight, isn’t she?” you frowned. it was a friday. you always ate dinner at katsuki’s on fridays.

katsuki raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “no shit?”

“then why would i go home? i’ll just wait for you to finish up at the gym and go back with—”

“i meant my home, dumbass.”

“i can’t sneak over when you’re not home!”

“who the fuck said anythin’ ‘bout sneakin’? you have a fuckin’ key, for fuck’s sake!”

for some reason, using the key to unlock the door later that day felt more egregious than all the other times you had snuck over to katsuki’s place. you thanked the stars that katsuki’s parents were working. that definitely made things slightly less nerve-wracking for you.

still, you couldn’t help but take your phone out to text katsuki.

you: suki

you: i’m home

katsuki’s reply came after a few moments (he always left notifications for your chat turned on, even at the gym).

katsuki💣: Ok

you: i’m gonna go shower

you: then i’ll revise for next wk’s history test

katsuki💣: Cool status report I guess.

you pouted at his dry response.

you: ure so mean

you: it’s weird doing things at ur place when ure not home

you: feels wrong

katsuki💣: The point of having a damn key is for you to come over

katsuki💣: Even when I’m not around

katsuki💣: I’ll see you later idiot

katsuki💣: Stop spamming me

you sighed. katsuki was right.

you: okayyyyy see you later

you: i love you

katsuki💣: You know I love you too

you smiled, reacting to his message with a ‘❤️’. katsuki was right about that too.

you showered and slipped into one of katsuki’s hoodies. on katsuki, the hoodie fitted his shoulders and broad frame just right, but on you, it was oversized.

you sat on katsuki’s bed and whipped out your notes and laptop to start studying. about two hours later, you found yourself increasingly bored. it was weird, not having katsuki around. even if katsuki was more or less silent when you two studied together, he’d always be there to check in on you occasionally, grabbing your hand to press gentle kisses on each of your knuckles, or grabbing an elastic band (he kept a few on his nightstand for you) to bun up your hair.

you contemplated texting katsuki, but it was already almost 5pm; he should be back anytime now.

maybe you should take a break from studying. you sighed, getting up from the bed to place your study materials onto katsuki’s desk. you plopped back down in bed, pulling the covers over yourself.

like this, you were completely engulfed in katsuki’s scent — sweet, musky caramel. you had always been addicted to katsuki’s smell. you wish he was here to hold you, in his big, strong arms. god, he’s so big. and fuck, he must’ve looked so good at the gym, in that black compression tee that you bought for his birthday last year. you can’t believe he’s your boyfriend. yours, yours, yours—

you eyes squeeze shut, and you can’t help the way your hips start grinding into the pillow between your legs. it’s so hot down there, and you just wish katsuki was here to hold you, touch you, make you feel good—

you gasped, and your hand moves downwards, beneath the waistband of your and into your panties. your pussy is soaking, dripping, throbbing, and you can’t help the tiny moan that escapes your parted lips. it had only been a month since you and katsuki had started dating, but you’ve been growing increasingly pent-up and frustrated; every time one of your makeout sessions got too steamy, katsuki would always pull away, kissing you sweetly on the forehead. you knew katsuki well enough to know that it wasn’t because he didn’t want you (fuck, you’ve seen, felt his erection press against your thigh so many times), but because he, the perfectionist that he is, wanted your first time together to be perfect.

you found it endearing, really, you had always known that katsuki has always been sentimental about things, especially when it came to you, but fuck, you wanted him, needed him.

“fuck, katsuki,” you moaned. you were getting impatient. you brought your fingers to your clit, rubbing quick, hard circles. you wanted to cum, fuck, your pussy— “feels too good. hnng— fuuuck, m’close, m’gonna cu—”

“feelin’ good without me?” you imagine katsuki on top of you, smirking down deviously at you, eyes bright with mischief. you whine, and your hand stops.

“fuck, m’sorry,” you whimpered, grabbing katsuki’s hoodie to pull it up to your face. you writhe, feeling your pussy throb in want as you inhale the scent deeply. “wanna feel good with you, wanna make you feel good, ��suki, please, please, i’ll do anyth—”

the covers are ripped away from you, your body suddenly exposed to cold air. you gasp, eyes flying open to see— oh, fuck.

katsuki stands at the edge of the bed, and god, he really is in that damn compression tee, and you moan at the sight. your fingers continue moving against your clit for a moment, but you watch as katsuki’s eyes flickered down to the movement, to your bare, exposed, leaking pussy, and you cross your legs shyly.

“y/n,” katsuki grits out, dragging his eyes slowly up to meet your gaze. you wonder if you’re imagining the lust swimming in his eyes, or if it’s just your own lust that’s clouding your judgement. you bite your lip, embarrassment washing over you, but you can’t tear your gaze away from katsuki.

“y/n,” katsuki repeats. he doesn’t move. “tell me to fuck off, and i will.”

you look at him, standing at the foot of the bed, jaw clenched and fists balled into tight fists at his sides. his face is flushed, and you almost feel sorry for putting him in this situation.

“don’t go,” you whimpered. “need you, ‘suki.”

and suddenly, katsuki is on top of you, arms and legs caging your body while his hands cup your cheeks. he kisses you, and your lips fall open with an embarrassingly loud moan, and katsuki’s tongue forces its way into your mouth. you didn’t think you could want him more, but in that moment, feeling the wetness of his slick tongue against yours, you think you do. you rub your thighs together, already sticky from your juices.

katsuki pulls away, and you whine. he ignores the way you wrap your arms around his neck, trying to pull him back down for another kiss.

“ya sure ‘bout this?” katsuki says, voice gruff but stern. a hand goes to the top of your head and he ruffles your hair slightly, before ducking his head down to bury his face in the crook of your neck. “need ya to be sure.” he kisses your neck.

“katsuki,” you moan as katsuki begins suckling at the spot, biting and licking and sucking. “fuck me, please?”

katsuki groans, his hips falling as he finally grinds down against you. your hips move upwards reflexively to press your core against his. fuck, he’s so hard.

“you,” he growls accusingly. “said ya didn’t wanna come over, cuz it felt wrong?” his hands find their way to your hoodie (correction: his hoodie) and he tugs at it. you tug at his shirt in response, and he shifts backwards to undress himself. you do the same.

you stare at katsuki, clad in just his boxers. big, is all you can think as you stare at the obvious outline of his dick.

when he lies on top of you again, your naked bodies are pressed flushed against each other. this time, however, his hands are cupping your breasts, and he presses featherlight kisses on the top of your chest, making you whine.

“why did it feel wrong, huh?” katsuki presses, eyes darting upwards to meet yours. his touch finds your nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers harshly. a smug smirk tugs at the corner of his lips at the drawn-out moan that the touch illicits from you. his hands continue moving down and down, tickling over your skin, until one hand ghosts over your leaking pussy. his other hand holds your waist.

he takes two fingers and drags them along the wet slit of your cunt, smearing your slick all over his fingertips.

“katsuki, fuck!” you cry out, voice a garbled mess as your hips stutter.

shamelessly, katsuki continues to tease you. he finally tears his gaze from yours as he brings his face down to your pussy. he looks at his fingers, coated and glistening in your thick juices.

katsuki brings his fingers between his lips, and sucks on them obscenely, sticking his tongue out to lick around them, between them—

you moan like a bitch in heat.

“is this why, hm?” katsuki pulls his fingers out his mouth with a ‘pop’. without warning, he shoves his fingers into your dripping cunt. your hand flies to your mouth, and you try to stifle your screams as he begins thrusting his fingers in and out.

“felt wrong cuz you knew you wouldn’t be able to control yourself, right?” katsuki demanded, eyes flicking hungrily between the fucked-out look on your face and your pussy. “you knew you’d start touching yourself like this, like a needy slut, the moment i’m not around to keep an eye on you.” he rubs a thumb against your clit, and you cum around his fingers.

your eyes squeeze shut, moaning and moaning as you tremble under his touch. katsuki continues rubbing your clit, relishing in your noises and the shivers that wrack through your body, until your hips are squirming away from overstimulation.

“dirty girl,” katsuki scolds, though his face is more smug than angry. “what am i gonna do with you, hm?”

“f— fuck,” you stutter through gritted teeth, still coming down from the highs of your orgasm. “fuck me, kats.”

“can’t hear you,” katsuki smirks. he pulls his fingers out of your dripping cunt, and pries your lips open with them until they’re shoved deep in your mouth. your eyes sting with tears and you start to choke as his fingers hit the back of your throat. “speak up, sweets.”

“f— fua—“ you tried to speak around his fingers, but your words came out a garbled mess.

“hah?” katsuki snickers. you’re too horny to be mad. “come again?” this time, katsuki relents, and pulls his fingers out of your mouth.

“fuck me, please,” you manage to choke out between your coughs. katsuki takes pity on you, you think, as he presses an apologetic kiss to the corner of your lips.

“slut.”

katsuki flips you over onto your belly, and you instinctively prop yourself on your hands and knees as he positions himself behind you. curiously, you twist your head to look at him and holy shit—

katsuki’s boxers are off, and his cock is so big. it’s thick and veiny, and you make a mental note to suck him off later, but for now, you let out an impatient whine as you back your hips to grind your ass against his cock.

katsuki clicks his tongue disapprovingly. he places his hands on your ass, kneading the soft, fleshy fat, as he lines his cock to your entrance.

you let out a moan when you feel the head of his dick press against your entrance. then, he presses in and—

“fuuuuuck—”

“fuckin’ hell,” katsuki groans, hands moving to hold your waist as he bottoms out inside of your pussy. his dick is so deep inside you. your pussy throbs and clenches around him. “such good pussy. so perfect,” he starts thrusting, and you start seeing stars.

“yer so good for me,” katsuki rasps, and you moan happily at the praise.

“yes, yes, yes, all for you, ‘suki, all yours, love you, love your dick so much,” you babble. your hands fumble around the bed until you find what you’re looking for - katsuki’s hoodie - and you pull it towards you before sinking your face into it. the smell drives you crazy.

“greedy girl,” katsuki says with a slap to your ass. his hips thrust into you faster, harder. “already fuckin’ you senseless, and you still want that thing? fuckin’ insatiable.” you try to apologise, for being such a slut, but as katsuki’s pace becomes punishing, you can only let out broken screams.

“shit, m’not gonna last like this, sweets,” katsuki pants shakily, hands gripping your waist even tighter. his thrusts become shallow and sloppy. “pussy’s too fuckin’ good.”

“s’okay, ‘sukiii,” you moan drunkenly, eyes rolling back. you’re already so fucked out, letting katsuki do all the work. “cum for me, wanna feel you cum inside me.”

one last thrust, and your words are pushing katsuki over the edge, and he barely makes it in time to pull out. as his cock spills warm, sticky cum all over your ass and back, katsuki lets out a stream of curses, groaning quietly. he swears you’re going to be the death of him.

he presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder blade.

“ya’d better not lose that fuckin’ key.”

is it obvious that i haven’t written smut in like 3 years

taglist (thank you for your support!): @anicaaa67 @maddietries @literallyhere4noreason @nemisimp

[prettypinkeel]

I made some icons for my megoplita au, so here's some explanation of the relationship between the characters in this AU + icons without text in the end. (this is inspired by other tf universes and various shows, etc., it's not tied to any canon)

Relationship chart:

1)Megoplita family

Optimus and Elita are married here. The two were dating since high school and their relationship only grew stronger through years, eventually leading to their marriage.

Both OP&Elita are having feelings/dating for D-16 (and this is mutual).

Rodimus is a distant family member from OP's side but he visits his family a lot, giving that "cool uncle" energy towards Bee.

Arcee and Roddy are besties, and based on comics, I made her adopted by Ultra Magnus, with Magnus mentoring Arcee.

2) Skystar/Jetstar family

Starscream and Jetfire were also high school sweethearts but they were more "friends to lovers" troupe. Both Star and Jet wanting to become researchers in the future. Eventually, they achived their dreams ⭐.

One day Twitch and Spitfire appeared in their lives, the twins were the important life for the two. Despite being a young parents, they always there for each other.

But after one accident, Jetfire was declared missing/dead and that had a big impact on Starscream, so he had to abandon his dreams and focus on raising Twitch and Spitfire, who are still very young.

3)Megastar family

Somehow, D-16 appears in Starscream's life when he needed someone the most. Their relationship were nice at first, D-16 helped with raising Twitch and Spitfire.

Spitfire didn't really like her new dad, so she still clang to Starscream more. Meanwhile Twitch grew really close to D-16, her friendly personality is irresistible!

But D-16 and Starscream relationship doesn't last long. I see them dealing with their own problems separately, they struggle with something «simple» like just sit down and talk, since none of them wants to bother the other. One is growing distant due to trauma of his soulmate leaving him all alone in this world, the other has no idea how to fix this, in a fit of frustration it all ends in break up. They still think of each other as the reason of it.

4) Colleagues:

I think 13 Primes are alive here, and they trust Sentinel very much to deal with the company.

Elita-One is mostly closed with D-16 since they work together, with Elita being his boss. There are some admiration D-16 feels towards Elita which grows into deeper feelings.

Starscream and Elita dislike Sentinel due to his smug personality. Sentinel makes it his personal goal to mess with Starscream throughout the day, and Elita just gets very protective over D-16.

Sentinel and Arachnid are dating here, but they're free to explore the other options. Airachnid listens to him gossiping about the others or just rambling his thoughts to her, both don't really mind it. They're just that duo who tell each other "exaaaaaactly" lol.

I also like the idea of Shockwave having that tiny crush on Elita but he would never admit it, even though it is very obvious. They're co workers but work in different department.

Airachnid and Elita rarely talk to each other unless it's about business, there's something in Elita that makes Airachnid to take interest in her. Silently staring at Elita from the corner of the room as definition of love language, aaaaaaa :p

[pirateprincessblog]

player 9

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: finally reuniting with your family after years of working abroad, your six year old nephew doesn't leave your side. he wants you to take him to school, he wants to do his homework with you, he wants to sit on your lap during meals, and he wants you to watch his football practice. how convenient that you're almost always alone on that stadium, and that his coach is just the most gorgeous man you've ever seen in your life. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jeong yunho x reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: footballplayer!yunho, coach!yunho, whippedforhernephew'scoach!reader 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: gagging, semi-public sex, oral (m!receiving), creampie, unprotected sex

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: is it soccer or football? football or rugby? either way, i'd let yunho demolish me in the locker room (or in the middle of the football field). :)

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"it's called soccer, dumbass."

"no, it's called football, dumbass."

"you don't know what you're talking about." your brother rolls his eyes, then stuffs his mouth with the hotdog you had made for game night.

"there's a ball, and you kick it with your foot. what part of that seems to be the issue?"

"football is an entirely different sport-"

"oh give me a break-"

"god, it's like you both are sixteen again. is that just a natural thing? no matter how old you get you'll bicker like this all your life?" your mother complains, sipping her cucumber water and judging the calories on the table with a single eyebrow raise.

your brother's son, your nephew, laughs in your lap. you laugh with him, seeing the ketchup mess on his face and his sticky little fingers.

"and what are you laughing at, you little rascal? come here!"

the young man grabs the child from your lap, tickling the life out of him as a punishment for mocking his father. he playfully reaches towards you for help, and you do, tickling your own brother to make him stop.

"oh god, my white couch!"

"stop that, our daughter came back after many years apart and you care about the couch?" your father scolds his wife.

"it's not like that-"

"hush! is it 2:1? is it?! yes it is!" he jumps, spilling the beer all over the just mentioned couch.

"oh, heavens." her voice is light, and she looks like she is about to faint.

the four of you snicker, and silently cheer with another hot dog.

you forgot just how boring your town is. you do nothing but lay in your bed watching tv shows, walk to the local bakery, and drive your nephew to school. he is almost glued to you twenty four hours a day, and you don't mind. he is the squishiest thing ever, always listens to you, and helps you piss off your brother.

he doesn't have much of a mother figure in his life. your brother works a lot, and your parents are raising him. his mother died during birth, and even though they begged to save her and not the child, it was too late. your brother didn't want the baby at first. pushed it away, yelled at it, saying it took away his wife and his will to live. then, he started therapy. he started getting better, and started spending time with his child. your nephew has all the love he could possibly get, but your arrival changed him. he has become very attached to you; sneaking out of his room in the middle of the night just to sleep in your bed, making his kindergarten teacher call you mid playing just to tell you that he built a rocket out of clay, to only eating when he sits on your lap and you feed him.

much like this morning.

"auntie?" he mumbles between the waffle bites.

"yes, pumpkin?"

"will you watch me play soccer today?"

"it's football!" your brother calls from the living room. "you broke my kid."

"i didn't break him, i just passed him some of my IQ."

the man sticks his tongue out towards you, making his son giggle.

"don't you want grandpa to take you?" your father makes a disappointed face, teasing his grandchild.

"i want auntie to take me! and then you can meet my coach! and then you can see how cool our new jerseys are! we are only allowed to wear them at the stadium and not take them home because they are new. i really wanted to show it to you but coach wouldn't let me. he says i'd make it rip it as soon as i enter the house!"

"oh, how dare he!" you say, noticing your father's wink as a sign to support him.

"and sometimes he yells at me! but grandpa told me that he just means well, and that he only wants to teach me so i can be a great player like him! did you know that he is going to play the- the- oh no, what's it called again, grandpa?"

"the derby?"

"yes! that! he is going to play in a few weeks! he is so cool!"

he may not be able to feed himself, but instead of that, he can talk. all day long. and just sometimes, your ears become irritated. so you agree to drive him. you blast the music, muting his babbling from the back as he sits in his car seat. can anyone blame you? it's a two hour drive. you don't have the energy for it today.

you finally arrive, and after making sure you've locked your car and rolled the windows up, you finally let him lead you inside. you can barely keep up with him, he is too excited to see his friends. you see other women standing near the group of children, and you let go of your nephew's hand so you can greet them. after all, you'll be coming here quite often it seems.

"hi, just wanted to introduce myself."

"oh, the new stepmom?"

"what? no- i- what?" you're just as confused as them, and you look over to your nephew.

"oh, i'm so sorry! he keeps talking about his new mom and we just thought-"

his new mom? your confusion disappears when you see the little boy pointing his finger towards you, excitedly showing you off to his friends.

"no, no. i'm his aunt." you inform them.

before they get to say anything, the doors on the side of the stadium open, revealing a tall male wearing a jersey. you hear whispering behind you, maybe even a particularly long exhale, and you have to say that you agree with them.

the coach is stunning. he is drop dead gorgeous, and the more you look, the more self conscious you feel about your lazily picked outfit today. he is so tall and lean, his waist probably smaller than yours. his lips are plump and a pretty pink colour, and his hair a dirty blonde, almost a mullet. no wonder all the moms were dipped in makeup and dresses. you wore your brother's hoodie with his favorite football team logo on it, short leggings and zero makeup.

"hi, ladies." he greets, smiling at the group. he surely knows his impact.

his gaze stops on you, catching you red handed. you must've been staring at him weirdly, because he smiles wider your way, then finally lets the kids inside to change and get ready for the practice. all except...

"coach jeong! can my mom please come and watch me?"

"mom?" the coach is caught off guard, glancing your way.

"oh, no no, honey-" you try explaining. that man needs to know you're single.

"please?" the boy puts his palms together, and does his best puppy eyes to convince the man in front of him to let you in.

"well i- i guess. come in then." he holds the door open for you.

other women do not seem to take interest in going in and watching their children. instead, they greet the coach, then head over to the nearby café. your nephew tugs at your hand, smile so wide his eyes turn into half moons and he doesn't even see you.

"you little rascal." you scold him, ruffling his hair.

he runs off to the locker room, and you watch him drag the backpack that is almost bigger than him across the floor.

"well, this is an odd surprise. i didn't know he had a mother. not to be rude, of course."

"oh, i am not. i am his aunt." you finally explain.

"ah, so that's the case. i was wondering. you look so young."

he smells of freshly cut grass and a hint of manly sweat, mixed with some type of cologne. his face is clean shaven, giving you a chance to notice his sharp jawline as you walk together towards the football field.

"he is a gem, really. but, god, can he talk."

"i know. he got that one from me." you joke, knowing your nephew has outbursts of energy often.

yunho laughs, then opens another door for you. you finally step into the green field, nostrils immediately filling up with the pleasant smell of freshly mowed grass. you were never one for sports, but you gladly watched a game or two with your friends and now family. you wouldn't do it willingly on your own, you have more interesting things to do. but you don't hate it.

you also don't hate it when yunho places his hand on your lower back, guiding you towards the chairs where you've seen coaches and other member's of the team sit during matches. you thank heavens for the early winter sun and long sleeves, otherwise he would've seen the goosebumps from an innocent touch like that.

"have a seat. if they kick a ball in your direction, i'm sorry on their behalf."

"real comforting for my first live match, thanks."

the children run out on the field after changing, taking their positions on a white line in front of their coach. you study his moves, and needless to say, you find yourself squirming in the plastic chair quite soon. he is stern. he gives orders, guides them, and cares for them. you are turned on by something as simple as his yelling over the field. you never knew you could be so turned on by someone doing their job.

he starts the warmup, doing the squats and pushups with them. his arms aren't that big, but they are still muscular and decorated with bulging veins.

"coach, remember when you made us do pushups with your backpack on our back?" one of the older kids says.

"yeah, so? want another session?"

"no, no! i was just wondering if you could do the same." the rest of them start smirking, especially your nephew, and yunho scoffs.

"of course i can."

"but not with the backpack! with her on your back!" he points his little finger towards you, and you scoff.

"i don't think that's approp-"

"he can't do it," you accidentally interrupt, trying to save him.

he looks at you, one eyebrow cocked. you swear you could slip off the chair from the sudden rush of arousal.

"oh, really?" he asks, a smirk dancing on his lips.

"really." you decide to tease back, to see just how far it gets you.

"well why don't we try?"

he gets into the position, not even allowing you to decline. the team starts cheering, your nephew the loudest of them all.

"come on, now. sit on me."

you choke on your saliva. he smirks to himself, and you are ready to wipe it off. he likes teasing, doesn't he. little narcissist.

you walk over to him, purposely sitting on his back with force. but he holds, his wide back a comfortable seat. his arms start working his body. and your jaw drops at how easily he is doing the push ups with you on his back. the cheers get louder, seeing their coach effortlessly carry a person like that. he does a few more, just to show off, until you get off of him. your nephew runs over, hugging your leg and cheering for the handsome coach. yunho winks at you, then proceeds to train the boys.

your stops to the stadium become your new hobby. you sit on the same chair, watching the man teach the young ones, occasionally catching a glance or two from him, then arriving home and falling asleep mid day to the thoughts of his arms and voice. some days you fall asleep from simple thoughts, and some days you need a locked door and a buzzing device.

with each practice, he finds a way to somehow touch you. last time, he asked you to help him set up a new net on the goal frame. he couldn't "reach it", so he held you by your waist in the air while you secured it. if he can carry you around so easily, could he also carry you as he thrusts into you back in his office? or in the back of the-?

"guests! get up!" your mother knocks on the door, and you are quick to throw your gadget under your pillow, stopping the fantasies in your brain.

poor thing has been working non stop for the past few weeks, and still doesn't do a good enough job. sure, it gets you over the edge, but seeing yunho's slender fingers spin that ball so effortlessly when he is busy watching the kids play is just making it more complicated. not sure if on purpose, but lots of times he toys with the little hole on the ball that is there for inflating it. he circles it, slowly and carefully, eyes not leaving the green field. your eyes are locked on the ball and the middle finger rotating on the ball, mouth going dry as you almost feel that same finger circling your own hole.

"see? told you he's a gem." he interrupts your drooling one day.

"huh? oh, yes. absolutely." you catch a glimpse of your nephew celebrating victory.

you miss the way yunho bites his lip, hiding another smirk forming. he knows he has you wrapped around his finger, and he can almost smell the arousal off you. at first, he enjoyed teasing you for fun. but now? seeing that you've started showing up in short knitted winter dresses and knee high boots? it gets him going too. especially when you put those sunglasses on when you get in the car and help your nephew in his car seat, looking like a really hot young mom.

a mom he'd like to fuck all day every day in the back of the car after she drops her kids off at school.

"guests? who the hell is it?" you ask more yourself than your mother.

you throw on a sweater and the first pair of jeans you find, then check if you've put the vibrator away just in case a certain child decides to come in the room and snoop. it is securely locked in your drawer, along with a local newspaper cutout with yunho's figure on it, the jersey proudly stating his last name and his player number: nine. he looks dashing, so why not? you're not doing anything weird with it. just masturbating to it. no biggie. everyone does that.

it is a random wednesday and middle of the day. nobody familiar is coming to your mind when it comes to guests. but when you go downstairs and join your mother in the kitchen, you freeze. the big glass door to the patio is open, revealing the very coach you were just touching yourself to sitting on your favorite chair near the pool. your father hands him over a beer, like they do this every day.

"what is the coach doing here?"

"your brother invited him to wish him luck for the game next week." the woman simply explains, lining up the various cheese bites on toothpicks on the oval plate. "here, take this to your father while i grab a few more beers for them. for an athlete, you'd think he drinks less."

"mom!" you scold, in case he might have super hearing.

you carry the plate in one hand, while you use the other one to fix your hair. yunho is quick to notice you coming towards them, a smile forming on his lips as he examines you head to toe. you look cute in maroon and black, that oversized sweater hiding your waist from him. ever since he lifted you in the air that day to fix the net, he has been dreaming about holding that waist again. he wants to bite into it, leave purple marks all over it, kiss it and whatnot. you are just that addictive, and you didn't do anything but exist.

"hi, coach."

something about you calling him coach is setting his body on fire. it has the same effect on him as the word "daddy" or "sir" would have on someone else. he decides he enjoys hearing it from your lips. he hopes he'll get to hear it in a shape of a moan or gasp too.

"hi, my lovely assistant. did you know that your sister actually knows a thing or two about football?"

"soccer. and no, this dumbass right here?"

all three of you roll your eyes at his correction. yunho snickers, taking a sip of his beer.

"yes. she helps me set up the training ground and comes up with very interesting and actually beneficial stuff. the other day she even managed to score against our thirteen year old goalkeeper!"

you squint your eyes at the man, holding grudge for mocking you. he is half right, you did set up the training grounds for the kids. and you did score against the thirteen year old goalkeeper. go you!

"cheese?" you offer, stopping their little bullying session.

"why, thank you." he takes one, then continues his conversation about the upcoming game.

you run back to the kitchen, helping your mother with more drinks. you hear your nephew somewhere, and his quick and heavy footsteps.

"careful, i'm holding liquid!" you warn before he can bump into you.

you make your way towards the patio again, ready to secretly start flirting with his coach. you don't know how. you'll figure it out. only this time, he doesn't notice you coming, and stands up while still talking to your family. he doesn't hear you warn him over your nephew's loud and bad cover of the teenage mutant ninja turtles theme song, and walks straight into you, spilling the beverages all over his white t-shirt and your maroon sweater. you almost slip on the wet tiles, but his hands are quick to grab your waist and steady you. your body is pushed against his, soft breasts pressed against his own firm chest, your heart almost breaking through your ribcage and hitting his.

"shit, i'm so sorry." he finally lets go, then bends over to pick up the half empty cans of beer.

"oh, just leave it! i'll clean it up!" your voice is squeaky, hands still trembling from the interaction you just had.

his grasp is so firm, you want him to pick you up again just so you can feel that rush of lust one more time. the way his slender fingers pick up the pieces of glass from the floor shoots arrows to your core. a task so simple that it has you wondering if your brain is healthy for getting turned on by it.

"sweetie, will you go get coach yunho a new t-shirt so he can change? yunho, go with her, she will clean that up for you." your father offers, completely oblivious of your death glares.

the young man gladly accepts. he follows you quietly through the house, not yet speaking. you unlock your room, then let him in.

"ah, so this is what this door is? your nerdy little room. always wonder every time i come over."

you rummage through the pile of unironed clothes on the ironing desk in the corner of your room, trying to tell the difference from your brother's and father's plain white t-shirts.

"so you come here often?"

"not that often," he walks over to your nightstand, looking through the window above it, "they sometimes invite me for dinner or lunch as a thank you for training their grandson. say, why do you keep your room locked?"

you plug the iron into the socket, then wait for it to warm up as you turn to face him. his fingers are tracing the corner of the nightstand, somehow seductively.

"to keep my nephew from snooping." you laugh nervously, seeing how close his hand is to the forbidden drawer.

"right," he hums, nodding his head.

the iron makes a sound, notifying you that it is ready for use. you turn your back towards him, ironing the creases in the soft fabric. you hear him walk around the room, probably admiring your poor taste of room decorating when you were seventeen. you didn't manage to redecorate much, only bring in some things from your old home. like the very toy that is buzzing in his hand right now.

"interesting."

"god, give me that." your cheeks are flaming hot.

you hid today's pink pleasure, but forgot about the yesterday's one, also from an interrupted session. he holds the silver bullet vibrator in his hand, playing with the settings on it.

"give it back! it's dirty, how can you even touch it?"

"oh, so it's recently been to places? i don't know, looks pretty clean to me."

you reach for the shiny item, but he is quick to throw it in his other hand. he smiles, amused by your poor attempts at getting the gadget back.

"we can do this all day, or..." he points it towards you, like a magic wand, "you can show me the proper use of it."

your heart drops, and your stomach feels like a centipede is walking all over it. your mouth goes dry, and your eyes feel like they're going to jump out of the sockets.

"what?" you manage to say.

"show me how you use it." he simply says.

"you're crazy. here's your t-shirt." you grab it from the desk, avoiding eye contact with him.

you hear his wet one drop on the floor, and he reaches for the one in your hand. instead of grabbing the clothing item, he grabs your wrist, pulling your body into his bare one. you gasp, eyes looking up into his as his other hand snakes around your waist, vibrator still secure between his fingers.

"those jeans are driving me crazy." he admits in a whisper. "and looking at that bed, i can't stop imagining you using this on your dripping little cunt after coming back from my practice."

you hate that he is right, but you won't tell him that. ever.

"i have more attractive things to masturbate about." you whisper too, eyes dropping down on his pink lips.

"like what?"

"like that substitute coach from monday morning?"

"ah, so your little hole only clenches for song mingi? got it."

he lets go of you, throwing the vibrator on the bed. you gulp as you watch him wear the freshly ironed warm t-shirt, eyes running down to his v-line and defined abs. he is so damn hot.

"i should get back there. wouldn't want anyone to know how desperate you are for me." he winks.

"i'm not desperate!" you reach for a pillow, ready to aim it at that smirking face.

the next few days, you ask your father to take the boy to the practice. he is sad, but if you look at yunho one more time after a good training session, after his jersey starts sticking to his skin and reveals all his curves and hollows, after his sun kissed skin starts shining from sweat, and after his veins start bulging even more, you might drop on your knees at his feet and just take him in your mouth right there in the middle of the field. with nobody around, of course.

the derby is getting closer and closer, and you go to the practice one more time before it accompanying your father. you sit quietly as you watch him fidget in his usual spot. he doesn't yell today. he doesn't instruct. he doesn't do a warmup. he lets the kids play whatever they want, just shushing them when they start cussing and punishing them with burpees. he is nervous about the game, that you know.

"hey," you call after practice.

your father is busy helping his grandson change his footwear, while you busy yourself with comforting the coach.

"it'll be good. you'll win, i know it."

"our goalkeeper is kinda shit. he has been alcoholizing himself the past few days, too nervous about the derby. i'm afraid he is going to get some kind of poisoning, or that he'll show up drunk. or hung over. i don't care about the win at that point, our image will be destroyed."

you hum, looking over at the dark clouds approaching in the distance.

"get some sleep tonight. if you want, call me. i am known to put people to sleep with my talking."

he laughs, sincerely. nothing flirty this time. "will do, darling."

"i'll see you tomorrow then, coach. hopefully with a trophy in your hand."

the game went fabulously. they destroyed the other team, despite the goal keeper being a little hung over just how yunho predicted. they all cheer, your nephew is going crazy in the front row, and so are you. shiny confetti is flying everywhere, some of it landing on yunho's head. he is holding the trophy above his head, pure happiness on his face. he is cute.

the celebration continues in the decorated basketball hall, drinks and food already served and music already blasting. the audience is slowly leaving to join the team in proper celebration, and it takes almost half an hour for the place to properly empty before you can move. a few families stay behind, cleaning after everyone and collecting lost items to hand them over to the doorkeeper later. you and your mother stay to help, collecting all the confetti and food remains.

"miss! miss!"

you turn around, almost bumping into a woman. she holds a backpack in her hand, and hands it over to you.

"would you be a sugar and go give this to player nine in the locker room? their coach had to go and didn't have time to give this to him."

"but-"

"thank you so much! i've gotta run."

and indeed, she does run. your mother nudges you with her elbow, rushing you towards the stairs and to the entrance under the bleachers.

you do not know where you are going. the hallway is empty, and there are no signs on any doors. you almost reach the end, hopelessly dragging the heavy backpack with you. a door to a locker room is half opened, and you decide to knock. receiving no response, you carefully enter, the strong smell of body spray pinching your nose.

"coach?" you call.

he doesn't answer. you set the backpack on one of the benches, then make your way towards the other side of the room. a jersey is discarded on it, the number nine proudly facing up from the bench. you reach for it, feeling the fabric in your hand. he smells so good. not a strong scent, like the rest of them have. he is more of a soft vanilla mixed with slight sandalwood. you bury your nose in the fabric, surprised that even after sweating so much after the game, the jersey isn't smelly and wet.

two hands creep onto your waist, startling you and making you jump.

"i snooped through your things, so now you have to snoop through mine?" he teases.

you feel his naked wet chest press against your thin blouse, and a slight bulge in the back of your pants. he turns you around swiftly, allowing you to take a good look at him. he is fresh out of the shower, smelling absolutely heavenly. his hair is not yet dry, waterbeads sliding down his neck and collarbones and disappearing down his v-line into the towel he has so carefully wrapped around him. it hangs low on his hips, probably on purpose.

"aren't you going to congratulate me?"

"congratulations?"

"i was thinking about a different kind of congratulations. something like..." his finger pulls at the belt hoop of your pants, then lets it snap against your skin, "this."

"you have to play another match to get to that point," you tease.

"do i now?"

truth is, you wish for nothing more than to get down on your knees and have him twitch in your mouth. you so desperately need it. so you let your hand reach for his towel, easily undoing it and letting it fall on the floor. you don't look down just yet, eyes locked with his. yunho finally grabs your face by your jaw, pulling you in for a hot kiss. his tongue is quick to find yours, circling it and rubbing it all the right ways. your blouse doesn't get unbuttoned. ripping it open seems faster to yunho, firm hands shredding the fabric and letting buttons fly to the floor. you gasp at the action, and he is quick to place his hands on your breasts. you're thankful for wearing a decent bra today, not one of those you had as a teen.

"i'll have to see you wearing my jersey and bouncing on my cock one day after practice. think you could do that?"

"i think i very much could," you say, excitement running in your veins.

yunho sits on the bench, trying to pull you into his lap. you stop him, dropping down on your knees. a proper congratulations.

you take a moment to admire his length. he isn't thick, but he is very long. he feels hot under your fingers, eager to be taken cared of. your tongue gets a first taste of him, and soon after, you're struggling to take him in. he is too big for you, but the pleasure is too good for him to back away. he grabs your hair, pushing your head down to make you swallow as much of him as you can.

"yunho?"

you freeze around his cock, eyes going wide. you are hidden by a row of lockers, but only a few steps in and the whole situation would be visible to the poor intruder.

"keep going," yunho mumbles, caressing your cheek.

you slowly start swallowing him again, working your tongue around him.

"yes?" he says, masking his pleasure well.

"everyone is waiting for you, man. they already finished off that fruit tart you were waiting for!"

"let me just take a quick shower and i'll be right there."

"if you say so."

the door shuts, and yunho spares no time in ramming his cock into your mouth a few more times before pulling you off and picking you up. he slams you against the lockers, hands firm on your thighs. he manages to take off your pants, not bothering with the panties. he only pushes them aside, and not even bothering to stretch you out beforehand, carefully inserts his hot muscle inside of you. it is no use biting your hand down to hide the noises, his pace continiously ramming into the soft spot inside of you, making your eyes roll back.

"you'll have to be a bit more quiet, baby." he says, voice low and raspy.

you look at him, your body completely relaxed in his hands as you take every pump he has to offer. yunho looks at you as if he is trying to hypnotize you, with eyes so focused on your face, examining every single reaction you have to his moves.

"we wouldn't want anyone to interrupt again, would we?"

you shake your head, unable to speak. you can only moan, louder and louder, as your fingers desperately tug on his still damp hair. having had enough of your loud noises, yunho carries you to the bench, cock still buried deep inside of you. he lays you on the bench, then reaches over your head to grab something.

"open up for me," he instructs.

you do, and he gently places his jersey between your lips so it muffles your moans.

"good girl," he praises, then continues his moves.

the fabric in your mouth proves itself useful, successfully muffling the noises you make. not long after, you feel the pleasure building up in the bottom of your stomach.

"fuck, you're clenching so much, i'm going to cum soon," he hisses, hands desperately gripping your waist.

you look at him with pleading eyes, hoping he would take the message and make you cum too. he recognizes it, and brings his hand to his mouth, wetting his fingers. he then places them on your clit, rubbing the tense bud in ways that have your back arching from the bench, mentally begging him for release already.

"fuck-" he groans, speeding up.

you bite down on the fabric, focusing on reaching the sweet release, clenching your walls to help him reach his too. he moans, for the first time, throwing his head back as he fucks his seed into you, filling you up until you can't take it anymore and let it spill on the bench. the new warm sensation inside of you triggers your own orgasm, your hands reaching for his as you twitch, orgasm washing over your body in multiple ways.

yunho holds your hands above your head, pressing kisses along your exposed collarbones and neck, calming you as you get down from the high. it takes you a while to come back to your senses, feeling yunho's hair tickling your bare skin as he still peppers your skin with kisses.

he laughs fondly, seeing what a mess he made out of you. removing the jersey from your mouth, he wastes no time in kissing you properly, this time a bit softer than before.

you pull away, the cold air from the air conditioner finally hitting your bare skin and sweat, making you shiver.

"so..." you breathe out.

"so..." he repeats.

"when is your next match again?"

feedback greatly appreciated! 💕

[binniesbooks]

• SANDWICH

TXT 019 .F05 2024

wc 6.8k

pairings Nickjudyz!TXT x fem!reader

warnings reader was described as poor, Yeonjun and Soobin being loaded, growing alone, self relieving, oral sex (Soobin receiving), slight cum eating, squint to see some fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink if you squint once more, pet names, degradation, boob kink for Soobin if you squint again lol, bigcock!Soobin, bigcock!Yeonjun, virgin!reader, threesome, double vaginal penetration (hit me up if I forgot something)

faye's note took me not only a week to finish this! Omg! Nevertheless, HAPPY 100 FOLLOWERS! Thank you so much guys, I love you all! 😭❤️ Please continue on supporting me and my fics. I promise to hold an event soon if we reach another milestone :> Cheers🥂!

Growing up alone, you've done everything to survive. Even when you were still a child, you worked for yourself. Doing laundry for the neighbors, helping the market vendors, walking pets—doing anything just so that you could earn a small profit.

Now that you're a college student, you've been hired by the school cafeteria due to the dean's empathy. You have a small space in the cafeteria for your small business, selling sandwiches. Every break time, lunch, and when you were vacant, you would quickly make your way to the school cafeteria to sell your products. You've been selling other foods too, like juice drinks and chips, but mainly sandwiches.

You would always wake up early in the morning to prepare everything you needed for your products.

"How much for a sandwich?" A tall, handsome man stood in front of your stall while you were busy cleaning your table.

"2 500 won, each," you smiled at the guy before you.

"I'll get two, please," he said as he pulled out his wallet.

"I'll just wrap it!" You cheerfully answered, not wanting to show how tired you are.

You're basically tired, not just today. But just tired of your whole life. Many times you tried ending it, but you always chickened out. And nothing changed. You struggle with your daily life. You can barely pay rent and your other bills. If it wasn't for the financial assistance given by the school dean and your side hustles, you surely wouldn't have been able to manage.

"Thank you! Enjoy your snack!" You cheerfully thanked the guy as you bowed down.

"Hyung! Come get your snack!" You heard the tall male call for someone over the other side of the cafeteria. Your gaze moved towards the other male. He's a little shorter than the first one. But he has a quite pretty face: pouty lips and captivating eyes. Handsome, yes.

"Yup! They're our seniors. They're also known as the Nickjudyz." You later found out from your friend that they were your seniors; they are a year older than you, and they were both scheduled to run for the presidential position on the student council for the upcoming election. Not that they wanted it, but actually, the campus dean had assigned both of them to different party lists at that. So basically, they didn't have a choice at all.

"Nickjudyz? What does that mean?" you questioned.

"You haven't heard of the animation movie Zootopia? They were the epitome of Nick the Red Fox and Judy the Rabbit," your friend explained. "Yeonjun's features were like those of a fox, and Soobin's a rabbit. Aren't they cute?" she added, giggling.

So the taller one was Soobin, and the one with sharper looks was Yeonjun, you understood now. "Nickjudyz..." you mumbled.

That night, you watched Zootopia, taking notes on the characters. And the next day, your sandwiches were Zootopia-themed. You were really waiting for the two of them to come and buy from you again.

However, luck was not on your side. When you weren't able to see them around, you felt sad. They were the reason you made your sandwiches Zootopia-themed.

You were about to close your stall when the shorter guy, Yeonjun, was running towards you. "Sandwich! Two!" he shouted with a wide grin. "Uhm, do you still have some?" He scratched the back of his head, realizing you were about to close your stall.

"I, uh, kept two pieces, actually. I thought you might come again." You hesitated at first.

"Nice! We just came out of the dean's office, and we hadn't managed to eat anything, you're a lifesaver," Yeonjun sighed in relief, pulling out his wallet from his back pocket.

After those times, you always got to sell your sandwiches to them. You even grew closer to them thanks to the short interaction you get to share with them every day. Sometimes, Soobin would be the only one to come, sometimes, it's just Yeonjun, sometimes they are both standing in front of your stall, buying themselves a sandwich. They became your regular customers.

"How about I recruit you to be my secretary on my party list? I still haven't recruited my secretary yet," Yeonjun suggests when he buys from you again one time.

You didn't know why you answered, though. It's not like you actually wanted to be a part of the student council. Maybe it was because of his pretty eyes and his cute pout. "I-i'll think about it."

He smiled and went away, skipping.

The next day, Soobin also suggested the same. "I already recruited her, Soob." Yeonjun wrapped his arms around the taller guy.

"Hyung, that's unfair!" Soobin pouted, only for Yeonjun to chuckle. "Oh! I have an idea!" he exclaimed.

"And that is?" Yeonjun looked at him, confusion written on his face.

"Why don't we let her choose from the two of us, instead?" Soobin chimed.

You froze from wiping the glass cabinet for your sandwich. "Wait, you're actually letting me choose between your party lists?" you asked, stunned at Soobin's suggestion. The two males just nodded at you.

Yes, you had built some connections with them. You can even consider it friendship, well, that's what they've said to you too. But to choose between the two of them to support, you think it's unfair. Especially since they were both good friends to you.

"Gosh, how can I? It's unfair," you groaned, Yeonjun chuckled.

"You can just think about it, but remember that if you don't choose me, you'll tear my heart apart," he pouted.

"See? That's what I'm saying! I don't want anyone of you to feel bad," you sighed, spraying Yeonjun with water from your bottle sprayer.

Soobin hummed, sipping on the canned soda in his hand. "Maybe you can choose if you got help from the both of us," he suggested.

"Come to think of it. Lately, I've been too busy with my business that I wasn't able to catch up again on some of my activities." You sat down on your chair, removing your apron. "Since you're both my seniors, how about you teach me?" you added.

"Like, tutor you or something?" Soobin said, turning over to you. You quickly nodded. "I might consider your request if you do so," you grinned.

Long story short, Soobin and Yeonjun both agreed on giving you a tutoring session.

It's been almost a week. The session went well. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just them teaching and assisting you.

You always do your sessions at the school's library or the town's public library. Anywhere but your house. You know the three of you won't fit in that small studio. Considering they are tall towers, you often tease them with this, in which they often rebut you that you're just short.

"Should we end it here today? I mean, I still have a part-time job to go for at 6," you glanced at your phone secretly—the screen broke and an old model—you don't want them to see that, at least.

Actually, they were far out of your league, even just as friends. Sometimes, you would even think about not showing up near them anymore, but guilt would always eat you up. They've been so good to you, they like to help you out at your stall sometimes when they are free.

"Say, how many side hustles do you have? I don't mean to offend you, but why do you need so many jobs?" Yeonjun, showing his little curious side, tilts his head a bit. Is he confused? Maybe. Is he mocking you? No, his eyes doesn't tell you that.

You sighed, not wanting to hide your situation anymore, not with how his curious eyes were boring holes in your face. "For weekdays, I go to school, and work at the cafeteria for some time," you paused, looking at Soobin, who was staring at you too for a while now. "At 7, I work at a convenience store down my street, and clock out at 12."

Soobin's eyes were full of concern. "Do you even have time for yourself? Time to study? Time to rest?" he shoots.

You shook your head and continued to speak, "I study for a bit, and I sleep before 2, then wake up at 6 again to prepare for my business, given that our class starts at 8 in the morning."

"Are you trying to kill yourself?" Yeonjun frowns after knowing you could barely rest.

"It does not end there yet," you chuckled. "On Saturdays and Sundays, I work at a cafe from 6–12 in the morning, work at the laundry shop from 1-4 in the afternoon, head straight here for our sessions, and catch a night of restaurant work from 6–11."

You could pick their jaws off the floor. You chuckled at their reaction. "Are you still alive? Tell me if I'm talking to a ghost..." Yeonjun hugs himself dramatically. "Hyung, don't be like that." Soobin slaps his shoulder, emitting a whine from the older man.

"I should get going now, see you on Monday!" You quickly got up to your feet and waved at them as you ran outside.

That Monday, you saw yourself working with the two males at your stall. They were the ones selling your sandwich. And since they've got the face, the reputation, and all, your sales suddenly skyrocketed. You needed to run to the nearest store near your school to buy what you needed to restock.

"Achoo!"

"That's your 99th time sneezing today, little angel," Yeonjun said, without turning to face you, still busy cleaning the glass cabinet.

"I'm okay, don't worry - Achoo!"

The next day, you were nowhere to be found. The sandwich stall was not open and no sneezes could be heard.

"Bin, I just realized... We actually have no way to contact her," Yeonjun was tapping his fingers on the cool steel table of your stall.

"I wonder what happened to her," Soobin sighed, rummaging through your stall, foolishly hoping to find some way to contact you.

"Let's go to the faculty, I have an idea," Yeonjun suggested.

"What? No, we can't disclose any information about students to other students, so no," the school administrator declined his request.

"Pleeeasseee, sir," Yeonjun begs, only to be declined again.

"Uhm, she's... She's my secretary for the election, so I need to have her information, at least," Soobin butts in.

"Your name?" The admin asked Soobin.

"Soobin. Choi Soobin, sir."

The two of them quickly ran out of the faculty as soon as they got what they needed. Quickly excusing themselves from their respective classes, claiming they have some emergency to tend to.

You woke up to the irritating ringing of your doorbell. You were not expecting any visitors today.

"Goodness, who could it be..." You stood up only to fall back down on your bed again because of dizziness. You felt the drilling pain on your head again that you had felt since last night. You shiver, pulling your jacket to yourself, yet you can feel yourself so sticky because of sweat.

"Who is--" Your eyes widened the moment you were met with two tall guys standing in front of your studio. You quickly slammed your door and leaned against it.

'What the hell are they doing here?! How did they find me? Oh my god!' You panicked, screaming inside your head.

"Angel," you heard Yeonjun whisper, "Can we come in?"

"H-how did you find where I live?" you asked. Dumb question. They could just ask around the faculty. "Dummy," you whispered to yourself, facepalming yourself.

You opened the door and peeked at them. "Hi, hehe," you awkwardly smiled at them.

"C-come in..." You opened the door wide, welcoming them to your small studio.

"We're gonna let ourselves in," Soobin mumbled, removing his shoes from the doorstep.

Their eyes were welcomed by a small bed that could barely fit two people in the corner. A small study table is beside it, stacked with books and a broken phone on top, and with a small dresser near the bed.

A single-seater dining table on the other side with some instant foods and a portable stove.

Their eyes roamed a little more. A closed door, they assumed, was the rest room, just sat near the doorstep.

"I... I don't think my place is enough to fit the three of us..." you fidgeted, sitting on your bed as your head spun again, making you shut your eyes tightly.

"You were sick after all," Soobin commented. "I'll just go out, I'll come back quickly," he said as he carefully stepped out of your place.

"So... This is where you live?" Yeonjun sat on the chair at your dining table. You meekly nodded. "All of those side hustles for this place?" he added.

You know he does not mean to offend you once again, yet you felt yourself getting embarrassed. "I barely survive... Even from those multiple part-time jobs. N-not to mention that—cough, excuse me.. I am paying loans too," you explained as you lay down on your bed, feeling your body burn up again.

Your gaze returned to Yeonjun when you heard him talk.

"Buy cough medication as well, Bin. And, oh, a few fruits too if you don't mind."

"Why are you looking for me, by the way?" you asked, pulling the blanket to cover yourself.

"We were worried, of course. How can we not? Plus, we weren't able to eat a sandwich today," he smiled, even though he knows you're not looking at him.

Yeonjun stood up. "Towels," he said.

You looked at him confused. "Huh?"

"Where are your towels?" he asked himself.

You pointed at the dresser, "Lowest part."

"I can't believe my tongue didn't taste any of your sandwiches today, angel. Do you know how much I crave for it every day?" You heard the water running in your restroom for a moment.

Yeonjun gently pats the wet towel on your forehead, wiping your face as well. He even hesitated at first to wipe your neck, shaking his head in the process.

"Don't you have any classes?"

"We do, but we excused ourselves. What can we do? We have an emergency at home," he smiled at you.

"Dummy, this ain't your home, Mr. Pouty Lips," you chuckled.

"Why not? Look, I even have a patient here at home," he says, tucking your straying hair behind your ear. His hand gently grazed your face, and you unconsciously leaned on his cool hand.

"Your hand feels cool..." you mumbled, squirming under the blanket. He then cupped your face, gently rubbing your cheek. Your eyes flutter closed as you feel relaxed beneath his touch.

"Pretty little angel." His voice was faint, even lower than a whisper.

"I'm back." Yeonjun snapped his head towards the door as Soobin closed it behind him. "How is she, hyung?"

"She fell asleep, she's burning hot, though." Yeonjun placed the towel on your forehead. "Hey Bin, you know how to make porridge, right? We should at least make her something warm."

You woke up again, but this time it was because of resounding murmurs filling up the small room.

"Hey angel, you're up?"

"You're still here?" you grunted as you tried your best to get up, receiving a helping hand from Yeonjun.

"You have to eat," Soobin says as he walks towards you with a plate with porridge in a bowl. "It's still warm, you'll feel better," he adds.

Soobin sat on the side of your bed, still holding the plate. Yeonjun stacking your pillows for you to lean on, as he ordered you to scoot back.

"Open your mouth y/n," Soobin scooped a spoonful of porridge.

"I can do it, you know," you chuckled.

"Please let me."

Soobin fed you the porridge he cooked. Yeonjun was at your table, peeling and slicing some fruits. "You should've taken care of yourself more," Yeonjun nags.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Pouty Lips," you said as you flashed a smile at him. "I don't have any choice but to work."

You have been sick many times, but no one has ever been there to take care of you. No one cooked for you but yourself. You buy medicines alone, even when you are burning up. You needed to do your chores even when you got too dizzy to stand up. "I'm grateful to you two, this is the first time I have experienced being cared for."

And that's when they realized they needed to take care of you. That's when it registered in their minds that they needed to stay beside you. You're their precious little angel, whom they needed to take care of. A fragile person who still needs someone to be their companion.

"We're heading home for now, okay? We'll be back tomorrow, please rest a lot." His once captivating eyes were now full of worry, and his pouty lips became more pouty as he talks to you.

"Go now." Your smile wasn't forced at all. It was genuine. Your heart thumps as you recall how they took care of you. You were floating on cloud nine.

Yeonjun walked outside first, and Soobin stopped midway, turning back as he quickly tracked back towards you. "If anything happens, call me... please," he handed you a small note in which you assumed was his number.

Yeonjun came back the next day early in the morning just to see Soobin cooking breakfast while you were sitting on your bed like you'd've been awake for the past few hours.

"Is this why you weren't answering your phone?" he asked.

"Sorry, hyung, y/n called me in the middle of the night. Her temperature went up," the taller man sighed.

Yeonjun sat beside you, placing his hand on your forehead. "Do you feel okay now?" he asked as he cupped your face, his face merely an inch away from yours. You nodded, but you didn't even pull back. Maybe it's because his cool hands were on your cheeks, or maybe you were just feeling too hot. You actually don't know. All you knew was that you were feeling butterflies from his touch.

You watched how his pretty lips parted, how his tongue glossed his lips.

Which is to blame? You, who maybe, have a tiny crush on him that makes you wanna kiss him? Or Yeonjun, that may or may not be, doing this on purpose while his face was way too close to yours?

You tightly shut your eyes. Were you assuming a kiss?

"Angel, food is ready," he announced, standing up from your bed.

You opened your eyes, and you watched him look at Soobin, as they seemed to talk with their eyes.

"I'm glad it's Saturday today. There's nothing else to do." Soobin stretches his feet, plopping down on your bed after eating. "I feel so sleepy," he muttered, his eyes fluttering close.

Yeonjun lay beside him, closing his eyes with a smile plastered on his face. You, on the other hand, just came out of the bathroom.

You placed your hands on both of your waists. "How am I supposed to rest now? You're hogging my bed."

Soobin pretended to snore as he let Yeonjun hide on his back, trying to hold back his snickers.

Maybe you could let them rest. It won't hurt to let them rest after receiving a lot of favors.

"I have a test this coming Thursday, I don't know if I would be able to pass the test," you sighed, poking at the watermelon slices Yeonjun placed in front of you.

It's been more than a week since you were sick. You were now invited over to their place for your tutoring session. It only occurred to you that they're not just friends, they were roommates too.

"You can do it, I know you can, you've been studying a lot," Soobin cheered, stopping for a while from writing in your notebook.

Yeonjun picked up a piece of watermelon barehanded, making it touch your lips. "How about a little gift if you pass the exam, little angel?" he suggested, "Aahh," and asked you to open your mouth at the same time to feed you.

His fingers grazed your lips a little more than expected, and he proceeded to lick his fingers with the left-over juice of the watermelon. "What do you say?" Yeonjun leans forward to you, his hands propped on the table in their living room.

You meekly nodded. No noise, just a simple nod and a lip bite that didn't escape Soobin's and Yeonjun's sight. "W-what gift though?" you asked, trying to straighten your posture.

"Soob, any suggestions?" He peered towards the taller male, only for Soobin to answer with a "Shhh, secret," and a smile.

Yeonjun chuckled, ruffling your hair. "Surprise, little angel, it's a surprise."

You were aware of their subtle advances, actually. Especially how clingy and touchy Yeonjun was. But you were just letting it slide. You don't give it plenty of attention.

But you have already admitted it to yourself. You're swooning over them. They're your good friends, though, and that's why you kept on pushing your lingering feelings back.

The session went well that day too. Not to mention that you're no longer rushing because they already asked you to drop some of your side hustles. You were hesitant at first because how are you going to pay your bills now? But you ended up listening to them and their pouty request. How could you say no? Why would you dare say no, rather?

Thursday came quickly, and taking the biology test first thing in the morning felt like walking on fire and broken glasses barefoot. You could feel the sweat dripping down your forehead and your heart thumping. You even called all the saints, gods, and goddesses you knew to help you answer the test. If looks could kill, flies would be all over your teacher's body.

The following day, your test papers were given back to you. You were too scared to open the folded piece of paper. That's why you kept it like that between the pages of your notebook. You even brought the notebook with you when you went back to your stall to sell your sandwiches.

In the midst of the crowd at lunch, you saw the two tall guys walking towards you once again. As if on cue, they waved at you the moment they met your eyes. You could clearly picture bunny ears and a foxtail over their figures as you chuckled to yourself. "Silly guys," you whispered to yourself.

Soobin was the one who noticed the notebook on the side. He was trying to fan himself with your notebook when your biology test results came flying out from your notebook.

"What's that?" Yeonjun asked as he saw Soobin opening the folded paper.

"Woah! I knew you'd ace the test y/n," he exclaimed, making you snap your head towards them with a confused look.

"Did our surprise gift make you motivated?" Yeonjun taunts, a sly smirk playing on his lips.

"T-that... I..." You were out of words. From what Yeonjun had said and from knowing you actually got a perfect score from your biology class, which you dearly hated from the start.

"It looks like we need to give here our prize, hyung," Soobin smiled. They look at each other knowingly. They know what you deserve. "Shall we head out first?"

Yeonjun and Soobin head home first, ahead of you. They said they wanted to take a stroll at the mall to buy something as your prize, and they just told you to head straight to their place tomorrow afternoon.

You were able to sleep soundly that night. Knowing that you can ace tests only if you focus on your studies. You felt proud of your achievement, given that you don't usually do well in your biology class. You even planned on making the two guys a special-made sandwich to thank them for their work. However, you were actually planning on turning down their request. You couldn't stand choosing between the two of them. You would rather back down than choose.

You were actually expecting something more of a material gift. Maybe a book, a chair, or something you could use inside your small studio. And the gift you were about to receive was the last on your list.

"Fuck princess, why are you so good," Soobin hummed while guiding your head.

"You should be more gentle, Bin. Remember, she still needs to choose who she wants to serve under," Yeonjun chuckled while caressing your dainty finger as he placed your hand on his tenting bulge.

You glanced at your hand on his bulge, and your gaze went up to his eyes. Yeonjun tilted his head, "What is it, pretty angel?"

You swore, and your stomach swirled. Little did they know, whenever they called you these names, you felt a little weaker in your knees.

How did it happen that a visit to their place would end up with you in their bedroom?

You rang the doorbell at their apartment's door, clutching onto the paper bag of the special sandwich with a wide smile on your face. Yeonjun opened the door, rubbing his eyes. He looks like he just woke up from an afternoon nap. Until you realize he's not wearing a shirt. His bare and toned body is displayed in front of you.

"Hi angel, sorry, we were asleep. A friend visited earlier and got us drunk," he apologizes. "Come in."

"Fuck, my head is spinning," he muttered to himself.

"Uhm, should I just come back next week? Do you want to rest for now?" worry and nervousness were visible on your face.

"No, please come in. You don't mind taking care of us too, right?" he smiled, picking up the bottles and cans on the table.

"Where's Soobin?"

"The room over there, do you mind waking him up? I'll just clean this." Some takeout boxes were scattered around the floor, and spilled drinks and sauces were also around.

"Soo-"

"Ahh fuck, y/n... More... You feel so good... Ahh.." You were stunned when you pushed the door open. Soobin was sitting down on the side of his bed, clutching the hem of his t-shirt up to his chest, while he gently stroked his shaft.

"C-come on pretty... I n-need more..." Soobin lolled his head back, letting go of his shirt to use his other arm to support his body as he tightly gripped the bedsheet.

"D-do you need h-help?" You actually don't know why you asked it. You should've just closed the door and pretended that you saw nothing.

Soobin peers over you, "Fuck, didn't know you're already here... Shit sorry, I need you y/n." His lower lip caught between his teeth, sweat forming on his forehead as his fringe sticks.

Like clockwork, you slowly managed to get near him.

"But... But I think you're drunk... I don't think this is right..." you chirped, trying to fight your desires with reality.

"I'm sober. I swear, fuck.. How can I not be when all I can think about was how you," he paused, pressing down on his slit, "Fuck!" He looks up at you once again, "All I can think about was h-how you m-moaned my name when you c-called me that night." He was once again reminded of how you moaned and chanted his name, calling for help, your pants, and heavy breaths when you called the night when your temperature went up.

A pinkish tint washed your face as you thought about how you did your best to call him.

You slowly knelt down between his legs, not breaking eye contact. Your hand slowly wraps around his cock as he draws back his hand.

"You're so p-pretty. I'm sorry I'm m-making you d-do this." You shook your head and flashed him a smile.

"Y-you want this?" Soobin raised your hand to stop you for a while.

"I.. that.. probably..." You weren't able to form any coherent words about how scared you are to admit you have a little crush on them.

"Please. Please tell me you w-want this t-too, If you-"

"I do. I-I do want this. No, I want you, actually... You... And Yeonjun too. Just.."

"Just?"

"It's just that, I can't admit it. You're both good friends of mine. I can't afford to lose our small friendship just because I like the both of you," you bit your lower lip as you retract your hand and place them both on your knees, preparing yourself to receive some hate comments.

"How am I supposed to hold back after knowing you want me? Oh god, you'll be the death of me..."Soobin caressed your cheeks, pulling your face closer to his length.

You look up at him, your eyes full of innocence made him curse all the non-liviing things from hell.

"W-wanna fuck your throat so bad, princess," Soobin muttered, rubbing his shaft on your cheek.

"She's so pretty, I want to ruin her." Your gaze flits toward the voice, it was Yeonjun. He was leaning on the doorframe, watching the two of you exchange a little talk.

"Fucking pretty, hyung. And smart too. She deserves a gift, right?" Yeonjun nodded with a smirk playing on his pretty face.

"She's a good and honest little angel, she deserves a good gift."

Yeonjun marched his way towards the bed. The bed dipped under his weight when he sat beside Soobin.

And this was when you found yourself in that position, between Soobin's legs and reaching for Yeonjun. The sandwich on the paper bag, long forgotten, was splayed on the floor.

You lightly rubbed your hand on Yeonjun's pants, making him hiss under his breath. Your eyes flitted to Soobin, you watched him alternate between biting his lower lip and gaping his mouth.

"I-i'm gonna... y/n, 'm close-- Fuck!" Soobin's hips stutter, stilling for a while inside your mouth. Hot liquid sliding through your tongue.

"C'mere," Soobin quickly pulled you up, crashing his lips on yours.

"Let him taste himself, pretty," Yeonjun taunts.

You lightly open your mouth, letting some of his essence slip through your lips, swallowing the remaining on your tongue. Soobin moaned in your mouth, teeth almost clashing at each other, lips swollen from biting.

Soobin pulled away, his forehead on yours, chasing his breath. "God, it tastes weird," he mumbles.

You felt a hand on your waist, it was Yeonjun's. He was guiding you to sit on his lap.

"Make me cum."

You left a peck at Soobin's lips once more before straddling Yeonjun. Not wanting to be left behind, Soobin tugged at the hem of your shirt. "Can you remove this?" he asked, eyes begging.

You quickly slip out of your shirt. A red hue paints his cheeks as he tries to reach out for the strap of your bra, snapping it open.

Yeonjun then pushed your hips down on him to feel you, making you startled. "Mmhh, feels good, fuck," he sighs. His pouty lips look so delectable as you see him gape his mouth.

Your eyes don't want to leave Soobin, giving him a few glances as he strokes himself languidly while watching you.

"Pretty, never thought you could do something like this, you're not as innocent as you look, yeah?" Yeonjun's eyes were flying towards Soobin, as if asking for some approval, as he continued to guide your hips to grind above him.

"She's dirty, hyung," Soobin chuckles.

"I-i'm not, ahh-" you tried to retaliate, only for Yeonjun to buck his hips up.

"If you're not, then why are your nipples so perky?" Yeonjun smirks, rolling your nipples between his fingers, emitting soft whines from you that made Soobin leak out once again. Of course, he was reminded once more about that night.

"Look at her grinding above you even if when you're not holding her waist, hyung," Only then did you realize that Yeonjun's hands were no longer on you. You're moving on your own accord. No guidance at all.

You felt shy as you stilled your hips, hiding behind Yeonjun's neck. Were you this desperate? Were you this dirty? Just like what they've said?

Yeonjun lifted your skirt, landing a soft spank on your ass, making you yelp at his neck. "Why'd you stop?" He then squeezed your ass as he landed another spank.

Yeonjun raised your body for a bit, only to see how wet his sweats were. It's not from him, of course. You watch the ends of his lips curl up.

"Baby, look at the mess you've made," Yeonjun coos. Soobin reaches for your skirt to unzip it. Your baby pink underwear has now turned dark because of how wet you are.

You bit your lower lip as you look at Soobin, eyes glossy, seeking help, and cheeks beet red. You wanted to cry out of embarrassment.

"Oh, look at my pretty angel, Bin, she's about to cry."

Soobin chuckles, "Don't make her cry, hyung. You're such a menace."

"Continue moving then, save your tears for later," Yeonjun remarked, letting you drop down on his lap once again.

"No, baby, I'm not guiding you. Move on your own," he added as he shook his head when you still didn't move. Oh god, the embarrassment you've been feeling ever since you've stepped inside Soobin's room.

You grab both of his shoulders as you dance above his lap.

"Fuck w-wait, that's --" Yeonjun's hand flew over his mouth to clutch on it, his head lolling back with only a single arm supporting his body.

If there's something Yeonjun considers a weakness, it's when a girl moves in a circular motion on his lap. And you hit the jackpot on your first try.

A few more moves, and he found himself convulsing underneath you. His eyes were blown up when you looked at him. He looked so fucked out. Quickly moving to his side, he also looks down at his lap. You both witnessed how the wetness of his cum stained his sweats. The gray color slowly darkened as the liquid spread out.

You were the one who initiated the kiss this time, giving his pouty lips wet kisses, to which he responded back with a weak hum while he held your face.

Soobin pulled you back over him. "Sorry y/n, can't just stay still and watch you with him." Soobin discarded his shirt on the floor.

"Stop hogging her to yourself, Bin," Yeonjun chuckled at the younger's action and words.

Soobin carefully laid you down on his bed, latching his mouth on your boob, while he gently massaged the other one.

"Move over a bit, baby, need to feel you," Yeonjun lays down on his side beside you, flipping you to turn sideways. Soobin was still sucking on your chest while he moans out his hunger for you.

The pouty guy hugs your waist, littering love bites on your neck. Leaving splotchy red marks all over your nape and shoulder.

You never thought about having an active sexual life, given that you're too busy and focused on making ends meet. Let alone having two guys at the same time.

The tall guy in front of you leaves the same thing around your cleavage while he humps on your thigh. His shaft feels heavy on your skin.

Yeonjun's hand trails down your waist to your clitoral area, rubbing in a circular motion to hear you whimper his name.

"Y-yeonjun," you whimpered under your breath.

"I'm here, focus," your hips jerked when he slowly slid his finger inside your pussy only to pull it out again.

"Bin, wanna stretch her out? I want to feel her already," he grunts. The taller male complied, he scooted up and raised your leg.

"So wet, damn," he dipped his fingers inside you, and just like Yeonjun, he quickly drew it back, giving his fingers a lick to taste you.

"She's sweet, hyung, holy shit. But as much as I want to taste you, I also want to feel you around me, y/n."

The first stretch felt like your body was being torn apart. You quickly lean your head toward Yeonjun, and your hand reaches back. Fingers tangled on his blonde hair as you give it a pull, mouth agape at how big Soobin feels inside.

"So wet 'n tight," Soobin grunts as he keeps on pushing inside you.

"H-hurts! S-soob, it h-hurts!" you cried out as you reached for him, clawing his chest.

"I'm only h-halfway inside, mmpp!" Soobin winces at the pain from your scratches and how your pussy snuggled his thick cock. He holds your face to drown your moans and cries in his mouth as he quickly pushes inside you.

He pulled away as both of you pants as if you had run a hundred miles.

"Y-you're choking me," Soobin moves a little, making you whimper once more.

"B-bin you're t-too big," you pout.

You felt something poking your entrance once, making you peer over to your back. You were met with Yeonjun's fucked-out gaze.

"Need to feel you," Yeonjun shuts his eyes as he pushes slowly.

"W-wait! I can't! Ahh! Hurts!" You thrashed around, making Soobin moan with the pressure.

"S-stay still, y/n!" Soobin hugs you closer to him, "We will all get hurt, stay still, fuck," his abs clenched with how stimulated he was. He signaled Yeonjun to continue pushing in.

Your mouth latches on Soobin's shoulder, biting on his open skin.

"Fuck!" They shouted in unison. Soobin felt the sting of your teeth sinking into his skin, but he tried to endure it. Yeonjun, on the other hand, felt how tight it was inside you.

The two males stilled for a while. Letting you get used to their sizes. Their shafts aren't a joke. Girthy. Long. Thick. Something that would definitely stretch out a tiny pussy like yours.

"'m sorry, angel, sorry..." Yeonjun whispers while he caresses your waist. Soobin planted kisses on the top of your head, your teeth are no longer sunken in his shoulder. But you felt weak between them. Your small and frail body looks like a paper stuck between two big books.

"B-bin, move. S-slowly please," you pleaded as you looked up at him.

His gaze softens as he looks at you. "Why do you have to beg so prettily? I might cum just looking at you," he says, catching his lower lip between his teeth. He then raised your leg once again and started to move slowly. His grunts, your whimpers, and the squelching sound resonate inside his room.

"Angel, who thought that selling a mere sandwich would end up with you being sandwiched between me and Soobin, hm? So fucking good," Yeonjun grunts as he starts to thrust from behind. "You're so tight, baby, fuck."

Soobin tried his very best to stay as quiet as possible, just letting small yet slutty moans, whines, and whimpers. The friction he felt from your wet pussy and Yeonjun's length at the same time was too much for him. He knows he won't last long, but he silently challenged himself not to cum yet.

"You're so greedy, princess. Look at you taking two cocks at the same time. Greedy and dirty."

"My angel is such a whore. A cock slut," Yeonjun snickers, grunting afterwards when he thrusts again.

"Tight virgin pussy."

Their words made you dizzy. Dizzy enough to unconsciously chant their names alternately. Your hands are flying everywhere, clawing and clutching anything within reach as they litter your body with a lot of red marks.

"Please please please wanna cum, please I wanna cum!"

"Oh, you're asking for permission?" Soobin questioned.

"Fuck, are you into begging, pretty?" Yeonjun grunts behind.

"P-please let me cum, I'm gonna-- please!"

You yelped when you end up squirting because of how they simultaneously thrust inside, making you feel stimulated.

"What a dirty girl, for real," Yeonjun sighs, kissing your shoulder.

"Wanna cum inside her, hyung," Soobin was gripping the plush of your thigh as he continuously thrust.

"N-no! Please! I'm not taking a p-pill!"

"Please baby, we'll take care of you, we promise," Yeonjun's hand wrapped around your neck, his thrusts becoming more sloppy.

"Please, wanna fill you. Wanna fill you so bad with my cum," Soobin's nails dug on your skin as he held your thigh tightly.

Yeonjun's grip on your neck made your mind cloudy, and you nodded at whatever they were saying. Not sure about what you were agreeing to.

"H-hold it, Bin, i-i'm close too."

You were a moaning mess. Dizzy, mind hazy, eyes cloudy. Your body was limping as you felt hot liquid spurting inside you, along with guttural moans and deep grunts coming from the two males.

"Sorry," you heard them apologize and slowly pull out before your eyes flutter.

Maybe this gift could be the best thing you ever receive in your entire life.

And a cleanly wrapped small box was sitting on the edge of Soobin's table.

@binniesbooks 2024

taglist: @babymochibeargyu @beomiracles @lizibizi @inkigayocamman @izzyy-stuff (tagging sum of my fave moots and friends 😖💞)

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[12:22 pm]

Husband!Taeyong’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He sighed, deciding this would be a good time for a break from boxing up everything you both decided you were going to donate. His brows furrows seeing your name on his screen. Weren’t you in the house with him? Why wouldn’t you just come tell him instead of texting him? ‘You’re not going to believe what I just found!’ He read with a smile.

He heard your hurried steps on the hardwood floor of the hall and soon enough you were standing in the doorway of your shared bedroom with a bright smile and a colorful book in your hands. As you walked closer, Taeyong reached for you grabbing your hips to guide you to stand between his spread thighs. “What did you find, honey?” Taeyong asks, pressing a kiss to your arm.

“My diary! It’s got some entries from our first 2 years together!” You beam.

“Oooh, juicy stuff?” Taeyong asks with a quirked brow.

You clear your throat and crack the journal open, “this is from 5 years ago, ready?” Taeyong nods, but his mind is reeling, you guys didn’t know each other five years ago, what could you have written about him? Your voice interrupts his train of thought, “Today, I went to the cafe with Minho. While Minho and I were waiting for our drinks, the most handsome guy I’ve ever laid eyes on came up and started talking to Minho. I guess they took a class together a while ago. This guy didn’t look at me the whole time, but I think I’m in love. Who would ever believe that I saw a man this handsome in real life and not a magazine? Even though he didn’t look at me, I’m pretty sure I’m going to think about him for the rest of my life. Minho said his name is Taeyong. I’m writing this so I have some happy memory of a handsome guy to return to when I’m sad.”

You look down at your husband, “I guess I was a little dramatic, huh?”

“I don’t even remember that! What else do you have?” Taeyong asks eagerly. He wishes he could go back in time to introduce himself properly, he could have had a whole extra year with you. Ugh!

“This is from four years ago, from that dinner that Minho held. I wrote, oh my literal god! You are never going to believe this! The handsome guy from the cafe was at Minho’s party and he spoke to me! There’s like a whole row of exclamation points here,” both you and Taeyong snort out a laugh before continuing, “his voice was so gentle and his hand was sooooo soft when we shook hands. We made conversation about school and our interests. He told me he likes to make music and make art and I told him I’d love to see his work, talk about thirsty. He had a really cute smile on his face and I swear I saw him blush! He told me he’d like to show me and before the night ended we exchanged numbers. I think there’s a higher possibility of us falling in love now. I hope he’s not actually a creep.”

Taeyong pulls you into his lap as he laughs loudly, “I remember that meeting, thank goodness. I remember that you were really cute and shy. And that Minho can’t cook to save his life. I was really excited to text you after that, but I wanted to be chill.”

“I think I ended up writing that after a week of nothing from you I gave up hope a little. I thought maybe you were like a figment of my imagination or maybe I read into it too much,” you sigh as if you’re reliving the memories while turning through the now warped pages.

For a while, the two of you sit there in comfortable silence reading through your entries. He reads and laughs good-naturedly ay the entry that describes the anxiety before your first date in detail and in drawing. Half the page is a messy scribble of words he can barely read, and the other half is scribbles that he can very well imagine you screaming while you drew. There’s a whole page of scribbles and ‘ahhhhhh’ filling up the whole page after the first date/first kiss which makes him smile softly while pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

He finds himself holding you closer, his arms around your waist tightening as his eyes pore over the words of a three-page long entry that came after your first big fight. You’d tried to skip past this, but he pulled the book out of your hold. ‘Tonight, Taeyong and I got in our first fight and I don’t think my heart has ever hurt this badly. I just don’t understand why he left! All I told him was that I needed some space to think and he took that as me wanting him gone. He just turned on his heel and left! I just wanted like 5 minutes to gather myself! Why would he just leave?’ Taeyong’s thumb sadly runs over the obvious mark of a tear drop.

He remembered this fight, he could remember the reason, but he remembers the aftermath. He remembers all the work that came after so that you two could communicate effectively. He remembers promising to never walk away in the middle of the fight and to never go three days thought talking to you again.

He closes the journal as sets it beside him while pulling you into an embrace, “we’ve made it far haven’t we?”

“Yeah, now I don’t freak out like scared chicken before our dates,” you laugh into his chest.

Taeyong laughs deeply, “I meant our communication, but sure.”

“Taeyong, we’ve been together for like four years, of course we’ve learned to communicate. We’ve learned a lot of things about each other. Each and every thing I learn just makes me love you more.”

He furrows his brows, “you didn’t like it when I bleached my eyebrows.”

“Oh my god, yeah! That wasn’t a good look. I hated that!” You exclaim, standing from his lap to assess the work he’s gotten done. “You’ve done a good job so far,” you nod.

“We’ve done a good job so far,” Taeyong stresses.

“That was cute, but I meant the clothes, honey.”

[carlos-in-glasses]

Rhythms

120k, 17 chapters all written, E, updates on Sundays on Ao3.

TK swoons when he discovers a sentimental scrapbook full of notes he and Carlos have left for each other – but he also unearths a book of poems that closeted teen-Carlos wrote about his struggles, including a few dedicated to his high school crush. An adorably mortified Carlos recalls the stir he caused when he was published anonymously in the high school paper, and everything he went through to write his wedding vows for TK years later. With TK as a hype-man, maybe Carlos can embrace his creative side again.

Read on Ao3

Chapter 1 - Love Heart: The day after TK and Carlos’ first wedding anniversary, TK is sent home from work sick. Back at the loft unexpectedly, he makes a surprising discovery about Carlos.

Chapter 2 - Club Can't Handle Me: In 2011, sixteen-year-old Carlos is both in the closet and in his high school’s wrestling team – and it’s all a bit too much. Perhaps against his better judgment, he turns to poetry and makes a decision that will change his life.

Chapter 3 - Crossroads: Daydreaming about his wedding vows mid-drive, Carlos gets pulled over for a traffic violation – and Gabriel isn’t happy. Reunited with TK, Carlos might be lost for words, but he finds another way to express his love and desire.

Chapter 4 - The Wrestler: Carlos’ poems are published – and he quickly learns there’s no putting the genie back into the bottle.

Chapter 5 - A Gay Fantasia: In the aftermath of being abducted by a serial killer, Carlos reflects on recent events and resumes work on his wedding vows.

Chapter 6 - La Tormenta: Carlos is devastated when Scott gets a girlfriend, and he finds himself in another snowballing situation.

Chapter 7 - Soulmates: When TK has a Huntington’s disease scare, Carlos finds he knows exactly what to say. But will it help him with his writer’s block when it comes to his wedding vows?

Chapter 8 - Man of Mystery: It’s the day of the Lake View High School Talent Show – and will the real Shadow Poet please stand up?

Chapter 9 - Crush: In 2011, it’s make or break for sixteen year old Carlos at the talent show. In 2024, TK becomes the hype man Carlos had needed over a decade ago.

Chapter 10 - From Behind: A couple of weeks before the wedding, Carlos is still working on his vows when a deeper rift develops between him and his dad. In 2012, seventeen year-old Carlos is spiraling after coming out to his parents.

Chapter 11 - The Other Wrestler: TK decides to lift Carlos’ spirits by learning how to wrestle.

Chapter 12 - Carlos Reyes Will Be Okay: At Gabriel’s funeral, Carlos regrets saying no to reading a poem in tribute – but during the wake, he finds himself under a whole new pressure. Later that night, he realizes the vows he’s worked so hard on for TK cannot be spoken yet.

Chapter 13 - The Closet: Despite some good news, Carlos ends up in the doghouse with his mom and with TK.

Chapter 14 - Once in a Blue Moon: Reeling from his confrontation with Andrea, Carlos seeks advice and admits a secret.

Chapter 15 - Raining on Prom Night: In May 2012, chaos erupts at Carlos’ senior prom.

“I was just remembering–” Carlos says, “The first time you stayed for a while after one of our hookups. It was, like, the third time we hooked up, I think. I asked if you wanted tea and cookies and you looked at me like I’d said the weirdest thing ever.”

TK’s exhausted, puffy face breaks into a dazzling grin. “You were being such a Boy Scout.”

“But then you said yes and you ate half the cookie jar.”

“You called me the Cookie Monster.”

“That was the first time I really made you laugh.”

“Tea came out my nose.”

“It was beautiful,” Carlos says, pausing then to qualify: “Your laugh.”

TK gazes up at him, his clear green eyes large and shining. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“The first time you made me laugh was when we were dancing at the honky-tonk.”

“Hey!” TK swats his arm. “I was trying my best!”

“You were so goofy,” Carlos chides. “I just loved it. I loved you.”

Read on Ao3

[nicromancytarot]

YOUR DAILY ROUTINE 5 YEARS FROM NOW

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel like the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to pick another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I do not charge for these readings, and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I get for the readings, but I pull like 15-20 cards each reading and that is just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.

PICK A CARD READING

I asked my spirit guides what your daily routine looks like in 5 years time, pick a card to find out what they had to say!

Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3

DISCLAIMER: the timelines I give are not the period as a whole, they are just an estimate of the time when these events could happen.

PILE 1

7:00-7:30am: Wake up, I got the lyric “7am the usual morning line up” from “When will my life begin?” Rapunzel, so you guys are waking up early. The first thing you do is either feed your pets or children, I’m getting heavy dogs for those of you who don’t have kids by this time, but I am seeing a lot of children vibes.

8:00-900am: Showering and getting ready, if you have kids, your partner will be up and looking after them for you, or this will be the time you take them to school. I feel like you’ll be listening to podcasts or ted talks every morning to get you ready for the day.

9:30-10:00am: Checking emails? You might be working from home and checking your emails or messages from clients or employers. I see you sat at your desk with a warm cup of something, going through things on your computer, your partner walks in and lets you know that they’re leaving for work now.

10:30-11:30am: Work work work, you guys will find yourself dealing with a lot of work during this time, however I do think that you make money by the hour, some of you could have a job that ensures you get paid separately by each client (like Tarot or something)

12:00-1:00pm: Making lunch for your partner, you guys will either go out to buy it and then drop it by their work, or you will make it yourself so that it feels special. Some of you could be seen as the “trophy spouse” when it comes to your partners work, they all think you’re a doll and are probably jealous of the food that you bring for your partner.

1:30-2:00pm: You can do whatever you want, this is your break time to go shopping or chill on the couch and watch your favourite show, I see that this changes often so you may like to do different things during this break, it’s not something that is set in stone forever.

2:00-3:00pm: Back to work, I feel this is when you do your best and most progressive work, some of you may be balancing another online job like authoring or possibly being a ghost writer for someone else. This is the time when you would absolutely hate to be distracted or interrupted.

3:00:3:30pm: Your final time to rest up before having to pick up the kids or take your dogs on a walk. During this time you might make yourself a snack, tidy the house (although I feel like you guys have a cleaner)

3:30-4:00pm: Little bit of a messy thirty minutes, you’re rushing around, which is why I think kids could be involved here, the school pick up is never easy lmao. For those of you who don’t have kids, this may just be you being dragged around the street by your dogs (I think they are large)

4:30-5:00pm: Your partner is home! You are also probably dealing with your children fighting during this time LMAOO, one of them wants the TV remote and the other is pissed. This could also be your time to catch up with your partner and tell each other about your day.

5:00-6:00pm: Dinner time, I do think you’ll be the one making dinner, but you definitely want to, sometimes your partner helps you out, but since you did the school run both ways, they’re looking after the kids for you now. You spend a while on cooking, you may even get it prepared around lunch time, throwing some meat in the slow cooker for later.

6:00-7:00pm: wind down time with family, chilling on the couch with the pets, watching as the kids play on the trampoline outside, relaxing in the arms of your significant other. Very calm energy for this.

7:30pm-9:30pm: The battle of the demons, time to put the kids to bed! The kids don’t like going to bed. “But I went to sleep yesterday!” You’ll have a field trip with these.

10:00pm-12:00am: You wanna get spicy with your partner? You can, here’s your opportunity. I do see you guys trying to make another kid around this time if you already have them, or perhaps this is your first. Relaxing in bed with your significant other, I’m seeing someone counting 100 dollar bills, so take that as you will, you may even take a shower together to end the night, or possibly getting wet in other ways is your way to close the day.

PILE 2

5:00-6:00am: Wake up. You guys may have to commute to work, and need to wake up early, for some of you, your work could be over seas, like if you lived in Paris but commuted to London for work everyday using the tunnel, or if you lived on the Isle Of White in the UK and needed to travel on a ferry to get to your job, either way, you’re waking up before the sun rises.

7:00-9:00am: Work, you’re at work for the majority of the day now, your job itself seems something that you’re used to and like doing, a lot of you may have to coordinate meetings, so you could be a higher up. There does seem to be a tad of stress here and there, for a few this may be caused by need of public speaking, for others there could be workplace drama.

10:00am-4:00pm: The people around you look up to you a lot, you may own a company or share management of it, there is a possibility of you working in something which involves fighting, a few of you may be in the army, and this could be the cause for the early wake up and start to the day. Either way, whatever you’re doing, you are the head of it, people have to work with you in order to climb the ranks and better improve their chance of success. You could honestly be in control of pay upgrades and promotions for your business or workplace. I see you making a lot of money by having a lot of control.

5:00-6:00pm: Home time, I see you making dinner or possibly even ordering out, although I do think that you have a healthy diet and lifestyle. A few of you could have your own cook, or utilise certain artificial intelligence that makes food??? (I don’t know bro, my guides seem to think that could be a thing of the future, you could have an online recipe book that you follow)

7:30-10:00pm: Resting up or doing whatever you want. I can’t get a strong read on this as I think it changes each day, you could sometimes go on a run, other time you’re baking cookies on call with your mother. I do think you have a strict schedule you follow when it becomes time to go to bed, you sleep like a log lmao. Some of you may be looking for a relationship at this time, and this could be the entry period for going on dates, perhaps you go on multiple dates a night lol, you seem to be the life of the party either way. A lot of you don’t drink, I see someone at a bar holding a juice box so take that as you will.

Sorry it was so short pile 2! Your day is much more put together and scheduled.

PILE 3

4:00-9:00am: If you have a young baby at this time, you may immediately go to nursing them as soon as you wake up, it honestly could even be that you’ve woken up early morning, your partner comes over to your side of the bed holding the baby, hands it to you. I do see a lot of stress around this time, so honestly I think the majority, if not all of you will have kids in five years time.

7:00-9:00am: I see you spending this time laying in your bed with your partner, possibly the kids have joined you now and you’re all just relaxing watching some TV for the few hours that you have until the morning begins and you need to get up and ready. For the few of you who may not be in a relationship or have kids, this could be a pet perhaps that you are spending the early morning with.

8:00-10:00am: You’re getting out of bed around this time and heading to the kitchen to get some breakfast started, you may have time to take a quick shower around this time, your partner will be looking after the kids, getting them all ready for the day so they can come and eat breakfast in time when it’s made.

8:30-9:00am: Some big change happens around this time, it may be that the kids are taken to school, or you perhaps take them to school. I’m seeing that this is the moment you begin your work for the day, I’m not too sure if you leave the house for it, I think so, as it does seem that there’s a change of scenery.

10:00am-12:00pm: This time is spent getting everything together for your job, I am seeing someone grabbing some coffee, if you work a corporate job, you’ll be getting yourself and some other people some coffee, collecting papers to make sure all your paperwork is complete. Some of you could be a therapist, psychologist or something to do with examining people, this is when you grab all your stuff to prepare for your clients, possible meetings etc.

12:00-1:00pm: A lot of teamwork around this time, this will be your first meeting of the day, first client, first job that you are supposed to complete. I see a need to write down a lot of stuff, you may even have a meeting presentation during this hour. Your lunch time may appear late, you perhaps have a job that runs over the normal lunch hour, so you go on your break in the next 1-2 hours.

2:00-3:00pm: Lunch time, I feel like you will leave your work building to go and buy lunch elsewhere, or perhaps your partner will bring you lunch themself, you might even order it into your section. You could be getting paid this time everyday, or you may count up your money for the day at this point.

3:30-4:00pm: You get to decide what you do here, I think sometimes you get the opportunity to go home at this time, other days you have to stay a little later, I think it depends on your schedule and the day of the week.

5:00-6:00pm: You get home during this period, I see there possibly being some time for you to relax and so what you want, before your partner and kids come home, some of you may have family around at this time each day? Or perhaps you live with extended family members and they will be making dinner for you, or getting some things done.

7:00pm-12:00am: A lot of you honestly could have family helping around the house, or perhaps you even have personal butlers, I don’t see you having to do much when it comes to making dinner, getting the kids to bed or anything, I see that you’ll be working hard on some paperwork that needs finishing, or getting your schedule ready for tomorrow, you’ll mainly be focusing on your work during this period too, I feel like you like to be prepared. You may get intimate with your partner during this time, I don’t see it lasting for too long as I think they go to bed earlier than you.

[sun4r1nnity]

atsumu secretly dating reader the nerd of the school

miya atsumu x nerd!reader

MID-YEAR EXAMINATION RESULTS

1- (L/N) (Y/N)

2- HIROSHI KAITO

3- ...................

atsumu gave a slight shrug, recognizing the two familiar names at the top of the list. he squinted, scanning the list closely in search of his own name.

143- MIYA ATSUMU

well that's not bad, he thinks.

atsumu swiftly made his way out of the throng of students crowding around to see the list, when the sound of a conversation caught his interest. "seems like i beat you again huh?" you teased, a playful glint in your eyes. "maybe you need to work harder then," you put both of your hands on your waist, with a smirk on your face as you taunt your ultimate academic rival.

hiroshi gritted his teeth, clearly irritated that the fact he lost again—to you. and the way you're taunting him right now is just adding fuel to the fire. "one of these days, i'll catch up to you," he replied, pointing at you before walking away. you chuckle, turning around to leave the area as you felt a pair of eyes watching you. atsumu, leaning against a nearby wall, a proud smile on his face. he gave you a thumbs up, and you felt your heart flutter.

you watch him walk back to his class, and you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. you take out your phone, click on the message you've received, and a smile forms on your face.

tsumu :D <3

lunch at the rooftop tday? special treat for my smart girl :p

......

"tsumu, you're the best!" you exclaimed, as you saw atsumu holds the best-selling karaage crepe in each hand, one for him and one for you. the crepe stall was always bustling, and the queue stretched on, yet atsumu succeeded in being the early bird. he hands you a crepe and then sits down beside you. "a reward for securing first place, again," he says, taking a bite of his own. you eat yours contentedly, acknowledging atsumu's words with a nod.

"thanks, tsumu. how about you? has my nerdiness finally rubbed off on you?" you asked with a playful tone in your voice, eliciting a chuckle from atsumu. "nah, not strong enough. ya have to physically rub yerself on me," atsumu winced as you hit his arm, both of you laughing at his joke. "what a pervert," you remarked, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. as you were about to savor another bite of the delicious crepe, you noticed atsumu's gaze fixed on you. Meeting his eyes, you were puzzled by his actions. "what? can't get enough of me?" atsumu snickered at your comment, then reached out to wipe the sauce from the corner of your lips with his finger.

"yer a messy eater, ya know that?" he said, a slanted smile on his annoyingly handsome face, aware that you were blushing from his tease. "shut up," you retorted, continuing to devour your crepe as your ears grew warm. a comfortable silence settled between the two of you, enjoying the breeze and the blue sky adorned with beautiful clouds. "hey," atsumu said, breaking the silence.

"wanna go on a date tomorrow?"

.........

"i dont understand how these guys are so good at volleyball," hiroshi said. "like, how did they even keep up with all that jumping and hitting and managed to not pass out on the spot?" he continues, flipping the pages of the volleyball magazine, one of the inarizaki charming star setter, miya atsumu being on it.

you and several people in the library chuckled at his remark while organizing books on the designated shelf. "yeah, they're like monsters, but volleyball is fun. It's not just physical; you should see how intimidating they are when they put their minds to use. It's truly mind-blowing. like how a setter can control their spikers, i think thats super cool," you said, but didn't receive a respond, not even from hiroshi. shortly after, you heard hiroshi clear his throat. "hey, (l/n)," hiroshi called out. you responded with a hum.

"since when you're into volleyball?"

[writingwithfolklore]

How to Nail your School Essays

                Not to brag, but I’m kind of a big deal when it comes to essays at my school. Since I started highschool I haven’t received a grade less than 90% on an essay—so I’m here to share my secret. This works for the classic essay, but you can also use the same advice and fit it to formal reports or other academic writing.

1. Your essay is about 2 things, demonstrated 3 or more times

This is how I’ve always thought about essays. They’re about two ideas, demonstrated as many times as you need to fill the wordcount. Shakespeare + Feminism, Media + Truth versus Misconception, etc. etc. If you’re lucky, your teacher or prof will give you one of your elements. You’ll get assignments like, “write an essay about Hamlet” or “write an essay about the American dream” lucky you, that’s your first thing—now you need to connect it with another.

This connecting idea is my favourite part because you just get to choose a concept or idea you’re interested in. Here’s a tip, if your first/given topic is something concrete, choose an abstract connecting idea. If your given topic is something abstract, choose a concrete.

So, Hamlet (concrete) could be paired with any abstract concept: Loyalty, Truth, Feminism, etc.

However, if your prof gives you something like, “truth” or “race theory”, you’ll find it much easier to connect that with a more concrete thing, like a book, movie, or other piece of media, or even a specific person.

If you are luckiest, your prof will give you both things, “write about the American Dream in The Great Gatsby” in this case, you’re onto the next stage.

2. Stick to the formula

Tried, tested, true. Nothing wrong with a formula, especially not when it gives you A+ grades. Typical essay structure is:

Intro with thesis

2. 1st Body

2a. Evidence that proves it 1

2i. Justify its relevance

2b. Evidence that proves it 2

2ii. Justify its relevance

Etc.

3. 2nd Body

3a. Evidence that proves it

3i.Justification

Etc.

4. 3rd Body

4a. Rise and repeat, you know where this is going.

5. Some may argue…

6. Conclusion

Let’s break it down.

Thesis:

                Thesis completely outlines all your points, or the three+ places you’re demonstrating your connection, and why it matters.

                Here is an intro + thesis I wrote a couple years ago:

“This literature review will explore the impacts influencer marketing has on the children that regularly consume social media content. Specifically, this review will focus on how influencers can impact children’s brand preferences, dietary choices, and lastly, the influx of children taking advantage of this system and becoming influencers themselves.”

Or

“Burned discusses the human aspect of sex work and reverses reader’s expectations on sex workers, while Not in My Neighbourhood discusses prostitutes as victims of a system created against them. Both challenge readers’ perceptions of sex workers, effectively drawing attention to the ethics of displacing sex workers from their cities.”

                So you have your connection (children and social media)/(Burned and Not in My Neighbourhood and sex work), and the different ways you plan on exploring or proving that idea (children’s brand preferences, dietary choices, children becoming influencers.) etc.

                You may also have a more specific stance in your thesis. Such as, “In Macbeth, ambition is shown to be Macbeth’s ultimate downfall in these three ways.”

The Body Paragraphs

                You start out every body paragraph with the point of the paragraph, or what it’s aiming to prove. Such as, “Influencers often include advertisements within their content, which can encourage children to feel more amiably to certain brands their favourite content creators endorse frequently more than others.”

                After this claim, you spend the rest of the paragraph further proving it through examples. This will look like citing a specific source (a book, academic journal, quote, etc.) such as, “The authors claim likeable influencers can associate their likeability with the products they use, influencing children’s perception of brands, referred to as ‘meaning transfer’ (De Veirman et al. 2019)” (super important to always cite these sources!)

                The last part is after each example/proof--you need to justify why this proves your point/is important. So, “This proves children are more influenced towards certain products depending on how close of a relationship they perceive to have with the influencer.”

                Typically, your evidence will all lead into each other so you can transition to the next piece of proof, then the justification, rinse and repeat until you’re finished your paragraph. You can have as many pieces of evidence as you want per paragraph, and the longer your word requirement, the more you’ll want to fit into each point (or the more bodies you want to have.)

                Piece of evidence + why it matters, rinse and repeat.

Some May Argue:

                This is a small paragraph just before your conclusion where you anticipate an argument your readers may have, and disprove it. So, for example, you’d start with, “Some may argue that with parent supervision, the impacts of influencers on children could be lessened or moot. However…” and then explain why they’re wrong. This strengthens your argument, and proves that you’ve really thought out your stance.

Conclusion:

                Lastly, you want to sum up all the conclusions you came to in a few sentences. Your last line is one of the most important (in my opinion). I call it the mic drop moment. Leaving a lasting impact on your reader can bring your essay from an A to an A+, so you really want to nail this final sentence.

                My final sentence was, “Ultimately, it is hard to know in advance how technology and social media will impact the development of children who have always grown up with some form of screen, but until they grow up, parents and caregivers need to take care in the content their children consume, and their very possible exploitation online.”

This sentence is backed by the entirety of the essay that came before it, and usually leaves a little something to chew on for the readers.

Any other tips I missed?

[flemingology]

Hi !! :D Following your most recent post I wanted to request smth for Jessie . Basically reader is not used to celebrating Christmas since she had problems with her family growing up which lead to them never celebrating it in their household . Cue to now where Jessie and her are spending their first ever Christmas as a couple , Jessie invites reader to her parents’s for Christmas and it becomes the first time reader gets to celebrate it ? Just really fluffy mostly (idk if what I wrote made sense English is not my first language 😭)

home for the holidays ─ jessie fleming x reader

part of my christmas series. full masterlist here!

in which: jessie and her family are determined to change your mind about celebrating christmas

warnings: talks of a poor youth, poverty, financial issues, dysfunctional family dynamic but also lots of fluff, i promise

wc: 4.6k

a/n: first part of the christmas series! combined a couple drafts of jessie taking reader to celebrate christmas with her family. hope you enjoy!

Growing up, you missed out on a lot of things due to the precarious financial situation of your family. Your dad had incurred a work-related accident when you were three years old, leaving him bedridden with permanent spinal cord injury. Your mum worked 12 hours a day, 6 days a week, trying her hardest to muster up the money to take care of both you and your father. Nonetheless, your family struggled. You never experienced any of the traditional things that most kids did; no birthday parties, no holidays, no trips to the zoo or an amusement park, and certainly not Christmas. You dreaded the Christmas holidays. It confronted you with the dysfunctional family dynamic, never having the money to buy presents, let alone decorate the house.

The longer you found yourself in the terrible conditions in which you grew up, the more you promised yourself that you would try and break that vicious cycle. From the age of 16, you started looking for a job. You struggled, a lot of employers judging you based off your background, but eventually you managed to get a job at a local supermarket on the corner of your street. When you weren't at school, you were working, and when you weren't working, you were helping your mum with household chores. You didn't have any free time at all, but you kept reassuring yourself it would all be worth it in the end.

By the age of 20, you finally felt like you could look forward a little. You had finished school at 18, and now had been working full-time in the supermarket for 2 years, still helping your mum out with the household and even giving a big part of your income to her to help out with dad's care. Besides that, you opened a savings account for yourself, where you put the remainder of the money you made every month. You felt like you were slowly but surely creeping out the vicious cycle, paving the way for yourself to have a more positive looking future. You didn't have to take things day-to-day anymore. You started doing some charity work for OHOH: Oregon's Harbor of Hope – an institution caring for the homeless people of Portland. When you weren't on the clock in the supermarket, you went out there to help the volunteers. OHOH worked on giving homeless people a safe space, a community, and the essential services they needed to stabilize their lives.

You stumbled across the organization while browsing on the internet on a library computer, and you'd felt the fire in your belly to help them. You wrote down the address on your hand and went to check it out the following day, opening up about your past experiences and about how you thought you could aid OHOH. They took you in, welcomed you with open arms, and you had been one of the main volunteers there for the past three years now. But if anyone had told you that you'd meet the love of your life at one of their fundraisers, you would've never believed them.

OHOH organized fundraisers on every first Friday of the month. They were open for everyone who wanted to come check out the institution and help out – whether that be financially or actual engagement. That's where you met Jessie. Jessie, who also stumbled across the organization while scrolling through her socials. Jessie, who was so eager to help the local community. Jessie, who you bonded with the first time she came around and then she just kept coming. Every first Friday of the month she'd be there, claiming she was just there to help out, but she knew deep down that there was more to it than just helpfulness.

Jessie and you got talking on her first time visiting OHOH. You took it upon yourself to show her around the place, explaining her the ins and outs about the services you offered, Jessie listening to you with care and intent. Before you even realized, you started opening up about yourself to the Canadian. Conversation flowed easily between the two of you and you felt at ease, Jessie not judging you for any of the things you opened up to her about. It was late into the night when you two wrapped up, the only two people still hanging around at the fundraiser. You had an early shift in the supermarket the next day and you already knew you'd curse yourself for staying up late today. Jessie lingered a little while you locked up, and you caught yourself stealing a glance of her every now and then. You said your goodbyes then, parting ways with Jessie's promise that she'd be back next month.

And she was. And then again the next month. Jessie and you had grown closer over her past couple visits. You felt something warm and fuzzy coursing through your body every time you talked to her, a foreign feeling you'd never experienced before and you didn't really know what to do with it. Things with Jessie were easy. It felt like a fresh start, like a blank page ready to be written on. Jessie, on the other hand, cursed herself every time she left the fundraiser without asking for your number. She was in her head about it, thinking she might just be reading in to things, but she couldn't deny her feelings for you anymore. Not when your touch seemed to linger a little bit too long after she pulled you into a hug, not when you memorized the way she drinks her coffee after only making her one once, not when the way you said her name would make her stomach flutter in ways she'd never felt before. So she promised herself that next month, she'd ask for your number. And if you then didn't seem to be on the same page, well then at least she tried.

When next month came around, Jessie found herself trying to make an extra effort to look good on Friday. She usually wasn't really one to be very bothered about her outfits, but she caught herself standing in front of her wardrobe a little too long for what was just a fundraiser she'd been at multiple times. After a quick shower and freshening up a little, she made her way over to Portland's city centre, expertly navigating the roads to a place she'd visited frequently enough to know the way by heart. She noticed you from a little while away, talking to some of the other volunteers by the entrance. You spotted her too, giving her a small wave from across the street, which Jessie readily reciprocated. She scolded herself over how excited she got over the little gesture. She quickly made her way over, greeting everyone before eventually finding herself opposite you. You engulfed her in a hug, the embrace a welcome barrier against the cold Portland wind that nipped at Jessie's skin. "Hey. Thank you for coming," you mumbled against her, slowly pulling back from the hug. "Always."

You went through the motions, as you did every month. Talked to newcomers, caught up with old visitors, gave tours and explanations on what you did at OHOH. Jessie busied herself, talking to people here and there, sharing experiences with the people of Oregon. It was a welcome change for her, being somewhere where nobody really knew who she was. To be taken as herself, as Jess, not so much as Jessie Fleming – the Thorns and Canada midfielder that everyone seemed so eager to get a piece of. That's one of the main reasons she was so fond of you. You didn't know who she was. You hadn't found out yet either, or you were just very good at hiding it. It never came up in conversations, either. The only time Jessie spoke about football was the first time you met each other; when you asked her what her hobbies were. Football. A hobby. If only you knew. Jessie realized that she'd have to tell you at some point, but she liked the calm for now. The comfort.

As the night furthered, you two started gravitating towards each other more and more. From fleeting glances whenever you passed her with a new group to guide around the building, to quick conversations in between catch-ups, to full on spending the last hour of the fundraiser tucked away in a slightly more quiet corner, talking to each other like it was the easiest thing in the world. Neither you could deny the feelings that were starting to build inside you anymore. The fuzzy feeling remained, and now your skin felt tingly whenever Jessie's touch was on you. It excited you, really, but it made you oh so nervous. Scared, even. You'd never felt this way, not in your 24 years of doing life had you ever felt like this about someone. You didn't know what love was. Your mum loved your dad, you could see that, but that got lost in the dysfunctional dynamic of the family. Platonic love isn't something you experienced either throughout your youth, your peers had never been fond of you. You'd gotten used to that, grown accustomed to being alone. Not lonely, though, you didn't mind being alone. But this was different. Jessie made you feel all kinds of things and she made being alone feel like the worst thing in the world. You wanted to be around her, be alongside her, be with her.

You'd noticed a nervous touch in Jessie's behaviors that night. A little more restless than usual, a little more jumpy, much less controlled. Controlled. Jessie was always controlled. Although, that's what she thought. She liked being in control. In control over her thoughts, emotions, her behaviors. But the way she was fiddling with her fingers, the way she kept tapping her feet and how she seemed to stumble over her otherwise so composed words, you knew something was off.

"Are you okay, Jess?" You'd just locked up the building as the fundraiser came to an end, another successful evening wrapped up. You'd been building up the courage to ask her the question all evening, much as she had been trying to build up the courage to ask for your number – unbeknownst to you. You glanced at her over your shoulder when she didn't give you a reply. "Jess?" You raised your voice a little bit, seemingly startling the freckled Canadian. "Hmm?" She cocked her eyebrows, a nervous glint in her eye. You chuckled and made your way over to her, stalling opposite of her. "I asked whether you were okay. You've been a little... off tonight, or something? I don't know. I just wanna make sure, you know." You carefully approached the subject, not knowing if you were just overthinking things or if something was genuinely up.

Jessie cleared her throat. "Uhm, yeah. Yeah, I don't know. Bit off, I guess," she said distractedly. "You sure?" You decided to pry a little, inching closer towards her, your fingers nearly brushing hers. She chuckled, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips before she met her gaze again. "Yeah, it's fine, I promise. I think- I've just been in my head a bit this evening, I'm fine." A frown painted your face as you listened to her words. "Mhm, okay. You wanna tell me what it is? I hope I didn't do anything to upset you." You wracked your brain trying to think of a moment in the past couple hours that could've possibly upset the Canadian, but you blanked.

"No, no, God, no, it's not that. Please, don't worry about that," Jessie chuckled before continuing, "it's not you. It's me, I swear." You cocked an eyebrow at her. "'It's not you, it's me'? Really, Jess?" You couldn't contain the uneasy feeling that started to grow inside you as the conversation progressed. It seemed like Jessie didn't want to talk about what was bothering her, but she gave you just enough of an insight to keep you on your toes – it was almost annoying you. "No, fuck- I'm making it worse." Jessie rubbed her hands down her face and lifted a hand when she saw you were going to speak again, ordering you to wait. "I've been in my head tonight, yeah. But it's nothing to do with you. Well- in fact, maybe it does. But, not like that. You know? I'm just-" "Jessie Fleming, what are you trying to say? Get it over with."

Jessie took in a deep breath, trying to compose herself, before she opened her eyes and a waterfall of words left her mouth. "Wouldyoumaybewanttogivemeyournumber?" You slightly tilted your head and gave her an amused look, cocking an eyebrow when her gaze fluttered down. "Jess, I couldn't make much of that, I'm sorry." You couldn't help the chuckle that crept up your throat, you'd never seen the Canadian this unsure. "Would you maybe want to give me your number?" Your eyebrows raised in surprise as you took a moment to process her words, but Jessie assumed your silence was your way of denying her request. "I mean, you don't have to, really, I was just asking because- uhm, because, you know, things for the fundraisers and stuff. It's okay, honestly-" You cut Jessie off by a placing a hand on her chest and searching for her gaze that was flicking everywhere but to your face. "Hey, take it easy. Take a breath, okay?" Jessie's eyes were filled with concern but she did as you asked, feeling her chest expanding and deflating a couple times underneath your hand. "I'd love to give you my number."

Safe to say that you and Jessie struggled to find your way with one another. You, not used to romantic love, or love in general, you struggled with accepting Jessie's affection. But in the end, you made compromises, communicated with one another about what worked and what didn't, and you had been in a relationship that you could only describe as perfect for the past 8 months. Jessie and you complimented each other. You fit together. She got you up when you were down, and vice versa. You learned very quickly about her career in football, something that took you completely by surprise when she told you. You adjusted, you compromised, and it worked. You were happier than you'd ever been.

Your first big argument with your Jessie didn't come until December, near Christmas time. Jessie insisted that you came with her back to Canada to celebrate the holidays with her and her family, but you insisted on staying home. You didn't want to be a bother, and as much as your girlfriend had tried to convince you that you wouldn't be, the thought remained firmly planted at the forefront of your mind – whatever Jessie did, not helping to get rid of it.

You'd told Jessie about your upbringing. How it hadn't been the best, how you'd missed out on all the traditional things. You never went into much detail, not wanting to relive your past, preferably living in the now, but Jessie knew. That's the reason why she always treaded very carefully when approaching the subject, not wanting to pry or ask too much leading to you closing yourself off. It wasn't until after one particularly rough night with your girlfriend – the both of you spending the best part of 30 minutes fighting about the whole ordeal – that you thought it was best to just get it over with and tell Jessie why you were so reluctant.

You told her about how you spent most Christmases at home. No Christmas tree or Christmas lights because they would cost too much, no Christmas films because renting one was way out of the budget, never any fancy meals as the holidays were just another period of trying to survive off stale bread and canned vegetables. You told her how you'd felt jealous in school, embarrassed even, your peers gushing about the presents they received or the family dinners they went to, while you had nothing to bring to the conversation. Not that they wanted you to be part of it, anyway. You explained to Jessie that you just didn't know how to celebrate Christmas, and that you didn't want to be a burden to your family and to herself. You didn't know how to replace those feelings of resentment with new ones, forever feeling guilty at how much better you had it now than then.

The Canadian assured you that she understood, but she also saw an opportunity that she was ready to take with both hands. She tried convincing you one more time to come with her, how she would make sure to take care of you and be gentle with introducing you to all the Christmas traditions. That you didn't have to worry about her family, who always seemed to think 'the more, the merrier' when it came to these types of days. You'd met them before, twice, when you accompanied Jessie on her occasional weekend going back home, and you knew they liked you. It wasn't that that you were worried about, it was more so that you just didn't know how to act during these types of days. What do you do? Say? What do you wear? Should you get something nice or do they prefer you to just wear something cozy? How do you behave? What presents do they want? Many questions and so very little answers.

Eventually, after some more raised voices and a lot of frustration, you agreed. Agreed on accompanying your girlfriend to Canada, the prospect of being with her and her family much more enticing than having to be on your own in your shared apartment for 3 weeks. When you finally, albeit reluctantly agreed, Jessie couldn't wipe the grin off her face even if she tried. She gently cupped your cheeks and leant her forehead against yours, pressing a soft kiss against your nose. "I promise it'll be good. It'll be so much fun and we'll take everything slow. Your pace, hmm?" She pressed a couple more kisses against your nose, before leaning down and pressing a gentle, fleeting kiss against your lips. You exhaled deeply and closed your eyes, leaning your forehead on her shoulder. "Yeah," you sighed, "yeah. We'll be fine. It'll be fun." Jessie sensed the hesitance in your voice, and promised herself then and there that she'd do everything in her power to make the holidays a fun time for you.

Traveling to Ontario wasn't that bad. No delays, no abundance of traffic, no problems with baggage, your 3-week getaway had gotten off to a perfect start and it did wonders to relieve you from some of the stress you'd been dealing with the past couple weeks leading up to this trip. Jessie and you had hired a car to drive yourself from the airport to her childhood home. You could've taken a cab, but figured it would be easy to have an extra car at home for if you wanted to go somewhere, just the two of you. You'd been in London before, but Jessie was adamant to reintroduce you to all the spots she'd shown you around before, insisting that it would be a completely different vibe now that everything was decorated for Christmas. The drive went smoothly, your plane arriving a little past 8 meaning you just about dodged the flurry of evening traffic. Your eyelids were growing heavy in the car, exhausted from the long plane journey, and with the low hum of the engine and Jessie's fingers tracing soft patterns on your thigh, it didn't take long for you to doze off against the car window.

You didn't wake until a few hours later, when Jessie put a hand on your shoulder and lightly shook you to try and wake you from what had seemed quite a deep sleep. "We're here baby, wake up," she whispered, putting a couple strands of hair behind your ear that had fallen across your face. You grunted, eyes still closed but you stretched, sitting up straight and leaning into Jessie's touch. "Tired," you grumbled. "I know, baby, it's late. We can sleep when we're inside, yeah?" You opened your eyes and looked at your girlfriend, who was sporting a small smile on her face. "You're cute when you snore." She gave you a small wink and pressed a kiss on your nose, unbuckling your seatbelt and leaning across you to open your door. Any protests that were forming in your head about how you were not a snorer died in your throat as you felt the cold wind coming from outside nipping at your skin. You hurried outside, any propositions to help your girlfriend with the bags waved away as she carried all three of them comfortably to the front door. You rang the bell, not allowed any time to complain about the weather as it took no longer than a couple seconds for Jessie's mum to open the door.

Michaele sported a beaming smile and her eyes were brimming with unshed tears as she pulled her daughter in a heartfelt embrace. It'd been a while since they saw each other. Jessie opted to stay in Portland after her domestic season had ended, the environment motivating her more to stick to her training plans than if she'd gone home early. She also still had a couple Canada camps to attend to, so she needed to stay on top of her fitness if she wanted to perform. It'd been close to 4 months since she'd been home, and you could tell that it had been weighing on her. Jessie had always been very family-oriented, so her excitement to come back home for the holidays was second to none. Especially since she managed to convince you to come too.

Ever since Jessie introduced you to her family, they took you in as part of the family. Her parents never questioned anything, loved you as one of their own and you managed to bond quite well with Tristan and Elysse. You truly felt at home with the Fleming's, a feeling you never managed to experience within your own family. It lead to a lot of uncomfortable feelings at first, when you realized that you felt more comfortable with strangers than with your own mother, but Jessie reassured you that it was okay. That it was okay to feel those things, to be upset, but that you'd never have to worry about experiencing such love ever again. She'd make sure of that.

Safe to say that Jessie kept her promise of making sure the holidays went by smoothly for the two of you. Your first week in Ontario went by quickly, the two of you re-exploring the city in which Jessie had grown up so many years ago. You visited coffee spots, strolled around her elementary school, went for dinner at her favorite burger restaurant and spent a lot of time with her family. Game nights, movie nights, going out for walks together, you name it. Jessie's family dynamic was so different to what yours had been, it was a breath of fresh air. It was healthy.

Your getaway went by quick and before you knew it, you were reaching the final week of the year. You woke up on Christmas morning with a weird feeling in your stomach. You knew everything would be fine – Jessie assured you it would, but you couldn't help the nerves that were settling in your stomach the moment you stirred from your sleep. You'd bought everyone a present, it wasn't much, but you hoped it would suffice. You didn't want to come empty handed, especially not when Jessie's family let you stay with them for the best part of a month. The feeling of being an intruder in their house had long faded, a heartfelt conversation with Jessie's mother aiding to you feeling at home within their house.

Your girlfriend must've sensed your restlessness that morning and woke up not long after you, pulling you down in a warm cuddle before agreeing to get up together. You made your way downstairs and were pleasantly surprised to see you were the first ones up. Jessie made you and her a steaming warm mug of coffee, before cuddling up with each other on the couch. You looked out across the garden, snow wrapping the town in an icy blanket of cold.

"You wanna make cookies?" Jessie's voice pulled you out of your thoughts. "Cookies?" You weren't opposed to the idea. It was nice to be alone for a moment, doing something together – just the two of you. "Yeah, cookies. I can't say it's a tradition, we don't do it every year, but sometimes my mum makes these Christmas cookies. Her own recipe. They're really good." Jessie raked her fingers through your long strands of hair from her position behind you on the couch, your back resting tight against her front. You craned your neck towards her. "Yeah, that'd be nice."

You and Jessie got to work in the kitchen, combining your forces to try and make sure the cookies would be as good as when Michaele would make them. You followed the recipe step by step, measuring and mixing the ingredients that would soon come together in small, bite-size, Christmas sugar cookies. It made you feel at ease, to have a little moment with just Jessie, before the prospect of what would surely be a busy day. Just the two of you, cuddling up to each other in the kitchen while making something that reminded Jessie of her childhood. It felt good, it felt right, it felt like home. A minute or 20 later, you put the cookies in the oven. 18 of them, 3 each.

Elysse and Tristan had already made their way downstairs, with Jessie's parents following suit only a couple minutes later. You all made some small talk, Jessie now also providing coffee for the rest of her family members. Before long, you all gathered in the living room where the presents would be given out.

"We've got the stockings first, as always," Michaele announced. She opened a bag that was sitting near the edge of the sofa and started giving them round, everyone receiving a stocking with the letter of their first name. What you didn't expect, though, was you to get one yourself. So when everyone had gotten their stocking and Michaele reached back into the bag to get one for you, it was hard to swallow the lump that had formed in your throat. Jessie noticed this, placing a comforting hand on the small of your back as you thanked and hugged her mom. You'd never felt more loved, more part of something than in that moment. You were part of their family, part of their home and everyone wanted to make sure you knew that.

The rest of the day went by so much better than you could've imagined. The Christmas cookies turned out perfect, some more family members came over for lunch, you went out for an afternoon stroll and then you all watched a Christmas movie on the sofa together late at night. You were feeling apprehensive about many things before you both took off to Oregon, but it's safe to say that Jessie kept her promise of trying to turn Christmas into something joyous for you.

Ever since that year, you hadn't missed a holiday season with the Flemings ever again. And you wouldn't want to have it differently anyway. Because after all, they were your family.

[nathaslosthershit]

Long Distance (LN4)

Summary: Long distance relationships are hard, especially when they both have very time consuming careers

Warnings; Angst (a whole lot), no happy ending in this part (will happen in pt 2)

Request: hi!! requesting a lando norris x female uni!reader if possible reader being a medical student or a one of the engineers on the paddock 🧍🏻‍♀️

Lando wasn’t known for being the smartest on the grid. He, like many other drivers, had only a few years of school to his name. But that still hadn’t stopped him from being able to somehow ‘woo’ a woman quite the opposite. 

His girlfriend was currently in her last year of medical school. While he was unbelievably proud of how far she had come, the difficulties of long distance have gotten to both of them, and there wasn’t much hope once she graduated and was off to a medical training program. With her studying for finals and Lando being off to a new country every two weeks for Grand Prixs, their relationship has been rocky to say the least.

Constant lack of communication and missing each other's calls had led them to have tons of unspoken dialogue. Each unanswered call created the smallest bit of resentment that just continued to grow and grow. 

No more sweet ‘goodmorning’ or ‘goodnight’ texts, no more wishing her well before a big test, no more sending ‘good luck baby!’ before qualifying. Just a few ‘how are you doing?’ and other bland messages you’d send to a coworker, not your significant other. 

After weeks of little communication, they had finally scheduled a ‘zoom date’. Not particularly the most romantic date they had been on, but it's the best they could do with their schedules. Lando called in late at night for him while his girlfriend had a lunch break in between labs. Time zones be damned.

Lando was 25 minutes late leaving only 35 minutes to actually talk to one another.

Her wifi was spotty so it kept freezing.

Finally, with only 5 minutes left, Lando decided to make a joke that there is no reason for her to continue going to labs, as he would be happy to be her ‘sugar daddy’. This was not very well received by his girlfriend, who responded with a quick “fuck you” and hung up early.

Lando was joking, a bit. He loved his girlfriend and saw a future with her, he just couldn’t stand long distance and any job in the medical field was bound to take up most of your time. He wanted her, but he also wanted someone who could be by his side on race day. That just wasn’t something that was possibly currently. 

He supported her. He loved to brag about how smart she was and how she was so dedicated to helping people. But that came with setbacks.

After a quick message from Lando (‘I was kidding darling. You know how proud I am of you. Lighten up a little, yeah?’), which she ignored, she was off to her labs in a worse mood than before. Things couldn’t go on like this. 

He hadn’t heard from her in three days. His “how are you, love?” and “Miss you lots. Hope your class is going better than my neck training :(“ went unanswered. She knew she was being petty, but maybe a relationship was just too hard for her life currently. 

After three long and stressful days of silence, she called him. With no message asking what she needed to speak about, Lando feared he already knew.

“We can’t keep doing this” She said after they quickly exchanged a ‘hi, how are you?’ ‘I'm good, how are you?’. 

“Baby, I told you it was just a-”

“I know that Lando! It's just that this isn’t the first time you have mentioned me quitting my career to be your housewife or whatever unrealistic idea you have stuck in your head.”

“I don’t need you to be a housewife! I don’t want that for you. I just try to let you know that you don’t need to worry about your future as much because I will always be there to help you.”

“But I want a career! I want to work hard so I can have a good future. You need to get it into your head that your career isn’t the only important one.”

“I don’t think that! Me wanting to let you know that I support you no matter what isn't diminishing your career plans! It would be nice if you started to show a little more support. I am so sick and tired of all our conversations revolving around you and how your day was. If classes are rough, or you are stressed, you don’t respond to me. I never know where I land with you. But god forbid I try to mention how hard my day was. I am just as sick of it.”

She didn’t know how to respond. It seems that all the times she has been more focused on how she was feeling she completely forgot to check on how he was doing. Before she can even muster out an apology, Lando jumps back in.

“Maybe you are right. I don’t think I can do this either. Not anymore.” He feels his stomach dropping as he says the words, not fully meaning them.

There is a long silence, moments where she wants to apologize, to try and reconcile. In that moment all of the good memories of their relationship come flashing back to her, as if her mind is begging her to do something. But she doesn’t. 

“Then I guess this is it.” She finally says. 

“I guess so.”

Part 2 out now!

[babyonboard]

Ultraviolence | part 2

Bradley Bradshaw x F!Reader x Jake Seresin

click here to read part 1!

Summary: You and Bradley loved each other, and Jake Seresin was just your old friend from high school who you tried to pay no kind to. At least that’s how it used to be.

Word Count: 8.9k

Warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI, infidelity, Bradley sucks, angst, smut, oral, choking, Jake Seresin has a praise kink because I said so, a little redhead slander (I am so sorry if you’re ginger).

Announcement: Yes I know part one came out a year ago. Yes I know nobody cares anymore. I want to get back into writing again and this has been sitting in my drafts for so long.

It had been 2 weeks, and you hadn’t confronted Bradley. But, in terms of how he’s been treating you, it’s been paradise. Things were back to how they used to be, or at least that's how it looked on the surface. You wondered if the girl he was cheating with is still in the picture or not. You wondered about her a lot. It was really hard to not think about her. In fact, you thought about her so much that you had a clear picture of what you thought she looked like in your mind. Of course, she’s blonde. Shiny, silky, long blonde hair. She’s slightly shorter than you, with a slightly better figure. Her tits were bigger than yours, and her stomach is flatter. She had a bright white smile and a bubbly personality. 

You hated her. But you also felt sorry for her. 

Jake had been literally blowing up your phone. He called and texted you so many times. You responded at first, saying you hadn’t confronted Bradley yet, but you were going to. He asked you every day after that if you had done it yet, and you never responded. The only other text you responded to was when he said he was worried that something happened and you needed help. It was embarrassing, that’s the real reason you didn’t want to talk to him. It was embarrassing that you were prioritizing guilty attention over your own self respect. 

One day when Bradley got home from work, he was pissed. “What’s wrong, baby?” You asked from the couch as he kicked his shoes off. 

“Hangman’s just the same fucking dick he’s always been.” He mumbled.

At this point, you were all ears. “What’d he do?” You set your book down on your chest..

He shook his head. “Always in everyones fucking business.” He grumbled and went into the kitchen.

Interesting. You pulled your phone out and went to text Jake to ask him what he did, but when you opened his contact, you saw that he had texted you this morning and you didn’t see it.

Since you’re not gonna call him on it, I will.

On your day off, Bradley asked if you could bring his laptop to work because he forgot it. Of course, you eagerly got in the car and drove it to him. When you entered the office building on the base, you tried to remember your way around. And because you fucking deserve it, because of some kind of weird karma from the universe, Jake was the first person you saw.

“Hey.” He said slowly, his eyebrows furrowed. You half smiled and gave him a nod, hoping that was the end of the interaction. It wasn’t.

He came closer to you, ducking his head like he was trying to be secretive. “Can I talk to you?” He said softly. His presence made you want to break down crying in his arms. It made you resent Bradley in a way that was unlike you.

“Jake, no. Not now.” You shook your head, trying to move around him. He blocked you and you gave up all too easily. 

His hand came up to your shoulder, resting it softly on you. He towered over you, but he was still so gentle. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you but you never answer. Me and Nat saw that girl with Bradley again, they were in his car, and we were able to find her on facebook. Her names Clara and-”

“God, you're a lifesaver.” Bradley groaned in delight, entering the lobby. Both of your heads whipped in that direction. You forced a smile and laughed, shrugging Jake’s hand off of your shoulder. As Bradley walked closer, you and Jake looked at each other. His eyes had sympathy and a little bit of anger, and yours said don’t-say-another-fucking-word. You could tell it made Bradley physically uncomfortable that you and Jake were talking to each other. Actually, the energy in that room made all three of you uncomfortable. It also made him uncomfortable that neither of you were saying anything. “Did I miss something?” 

“No! No, here you go.” You held his laptop out to him, forcing a smile. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and kissed your forehead. You were so embarrassed you almost recoiled when he touched you. 

“I was just gonna show her where your office was. She looked lost.” Jake’s voice was noticeably different. It's almost like it went back to normal, he sounded so much softer when he talked to you.

The tension between Bradley and Jake was intense. They both had an obvious dislike for each other that was never there before.

“You wanna see my office, babe?” He looked down at you. You nodded enthusiastically. 

“See ya Hangman.” He said, pulling you away from the magnetic force of a man that is Jake Seresin. 

Back in Bradley’s office, you felt sick to your stomach. From the little information you were able to hear, he is not done with that girl. And now, you have a name to put to that stupid fucking face that you can’t stop thinking about. Leaning against Bradleys desk, you couldn’t help but stare at the picture of the two of you that sat front and center. It was from your wedding. You were both laughing, wrapped completely around each other. The happiness that you had in that picture, the happiness that was in endless supply, surrounding you every second of every day, was nowhere to be found now. You haven’t seen it for a while. 

It was different this time. When you first found out he cheated, you were sad. Cried whenever he wasn’t around, threw up, the whole nine yards. Now, just finding out that it is still going on, you were mad. So mad it was almost funny. For some strange reason, you wanted to laugh. An anger unlike anything you have ever felt in your entire life brewed in each and every cell of your body. It was white hot and it was making you sweat.

Sitting down at his desk, Bradley’s eyes were on you. “Are you okay?” His voice was worried, like he might be in trouble if you’re not. “You look sick.”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine” You smiled. The familiar feeling in your stomach, the same one you got when Jake had first told you, started crawling up your throat. You were absolutely disgusted by him and it was making you sick to look at him. 

He reached out and touched your leg. “Come here.” He spoke softly.

You pushed off of the desk and away from his hand. “I have to go. I have a call- a work call- in a little bit.” You scrambled for an excuse. 

“Oh.” He said.

Backing up towards the door, he looked increasingly worried with each step you took. “Bye, see you at home.” You said, giving him no time to respond or question as you walked out. Out in the hallway, you could finally breathe. You stood still for a few moments, the cool air conditioning of the building filling your lungs as you took long, deep breaths. This time is different. He knows what he’s doing to you and he’s happily letting it happen. You were fucking done with him. Your legs started working again and you made your way down the eerily quiet hallway. That place feels like a museum, everything looks clean and untouched. 

As you were inspecting the cleanliness while you walked, you stopped in your tracks when you read “Lt. Jacob ‘Hangman’ Seresin”. This was his office. You looked around the hallway, saw nobody, then knocked lightly. “Come in.” You heard his muffled voice say on the other side. The door clicked as you opened it, peaking your head inside like you thought you would be bothering him if you came in. He was standing behind his desk with papers in his hands. When he saw you, his posture and his eyes softened. He dropped the papers onto his desk.

“Hey.” You said, still not fully stepping into the room. 

“Come sit.” He said. You shut the door behind you and you were finally able to let your guard down. You took a shaky breath and walked over to his desk. Not wanting to intrude, not wanting to make yourself at home, you stayed standing. 

You cleared your throat. More than anything, you wanted answers. “Can I see a picture of her?” 

He started walking around to meet you on the other side of his desk. His desk was much more neat than Bradley’s. Bradley’s was littered with pictures and trinkets and notes. Jake had a couple of awards on display off to the side, and that was mostly it. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Jake. Please.” You pleaded, trying to be as stern as you could even though your voice shook.

He looked down to the ground. Without a word, he pulled his phone out of his back pocket. It was silent as he typed a few words and your stomach started to twist again. 

He cleared his throat. “Here.” He had her facebook page pulled up.

To your surprise, she was not blonde. Well at least not all the way. She had strawberry blonde hair and dark eyes. And of fucking course, she had dimples. But the biggest thing that stood out was how young she looked. With a second more of scrolling, you saw “UCLA class of 21” in her bio. “Class of 21?” You gasped. You and Bradley were both 30. She was 22 at most. That pissed you off even more, you felt like you couldn’t even see straight. 

Jake grabbed the phone out of your hands. “That’s enough.” He said, putting it back in his pocket. You saw her full name, it’s burned into the back of your eyelids, you could look her up later. 

It was quiet again. Jake didn’t know what to say. He had a million things he wanted to say, but none of them were a good idea right now. 

“I’m sorry you got dragged into this.” You admitted shamefully.

“Y/N.” He sighed “Don’t say you’re sorry, none of this is your fault.”

Looking down at the ground, you were unable to meet his eyes. “I don’t know. She’s so pretty and she-”

“Hey.” His voice was stern, it made you flinch. His hand came up to your chin and lifted your head to look at him. “This was not about you. This is about Bradley being selfish. You are prettier than her. You understand me?” His hand was still gripping your chin. You nodded, eyes locked in his. “You are so god damn beautiful, and Bradley is fucking crazy for not giving you the world.” His grip got softer as he spoke that sentence, but he didn’t move his hand. “Got it?” He asked.

“Yes.” You agree softly. He was breathing hard and his jaw clenched like he was mad. Not that you would ever admit it, but it was sexy. Your knees started to feel weak. Jake has an effect on you that Bradley never did. Right now, it felt like Jake knew that. That he knew he had some otherworldly effect on you and your knees were getting weaker by the millisecond. 

“You promise?” He spoke, almost in a whisper. You realized he had dipped his head down at some point, and you tilted yours up. 

“Yes, Jake.” You whispered back. You could feel his breath on your lips, making your eyes flicker down at his. Now you couldn’t look up. 

Within seconds, everything that Bradley had done to you flashed through your mind in a blur. The most prominent image was him with that 22 year old fucking ginger underneath him. It only made sense to tip your head up further to kiss Jake. 

When Jake first found out about the other woman, he knew this day would come, and he swore he wouldn’t take it too far when it did. But right now, now that your warm lips were touching his and he could taste the toothpaste on your tongue and it felt like his whole body was completely lit up, he didn’t know if he could stop himself.

It felt good in so many different ways. It felt good, like a sort of revenge against Bradley. It felt good to be kissed by someone who actually wanted you. And it felt so good because it was Jake. 

His hand on your jaw threaded back through your hair, his other pulled you fully against him. He kissed you eagerly, like he couldn’t get enough. Your heart was pounding so hard that it felt like it was about to explode out of your chest, like your whole body was struck by lightning and each one of your nerve endings was on fire. It was feverish and nerve wracking and wrong but so fucking right. He backed you up until the back of your thighs hit the edge of his desk, making the desk shift slightly on the floor. Both of his large hands cupped your face, his fingers reaching to the back of your neck. 

His hips pushed yours back even further; he wanted you on his desk. Of course, you complied. His big, shiny desk creaked as you adjusted yourself on it and opened your legs to let him stand in between them. Your shorts rode up your thighs and his hands were on that exposed skin immediately. The only sound in the room was both of your heavy breathing. Your tongue swiped along his bottom lip, which he took as a green light to stick his tongue in your mouth. This was the most exhilarated you had felt in years. It was different from the many make out sessions you had with Bradley throughout your life, it was so much more intense. There was so much more meaning behind it, so much fire. 

It’s obvious to anyone with a brain that Jake is rough in nature, especially in bed. Oddly enough, he was taking it easy on you thus far. That is until you felt his fingers graze against your neck, seemingly testing the waters. You tried to kiss him harder, tried to say yes without actually saying it. He must’ve got the message, his huge hand covered your throat, his fingers wrapping around it. It wasn’t choking as much as it was holding you in place. His teeth pulling your lip made a short whine come from the back of your throat, completely unintentionally. This made him rip his lips away from yours, his hand still holding your throat. 

He held your face an inch away from his. “Did you lock the door?” He sounded so different, his voice was so much deeper, so much darker than normal.

You managed to shake your head within his grasp. The door isn’t locked, there is no way you could have predicted this was going to happen when you walked in 10 minutes ago. It was logical to assume he was going to go lock it, your husband was literally two doors away. Jake Seresin is anything but logical, you should know this by now. He kissed you again, so much dirtier this time. Wasting zero time, his hands were back on your thighs. Unexpectedly, your legs were lifted off the desk and pulled forward, leaving you laying on the desk. Jake pulling your shorts and underwear down your legs, kneeling as he did so, was a sight to fucking behold. 

A loud sigh left his mouth as he set his gaze on your pussy. It was nothing short of heavenly, celestial even. For the last 8 years, you were forbidden fruit, and now he’s on his knees right in front of you, ready to taste you, ready to sin. 

Stopping didn’t cross your mind once. Actually the only thing on your mind the whole time was more. It wasn’t even revenge at this point, it was desire in its purest form. Papers on his desk shifted under your hair, a few of them slipping onto the floor, not that you noticed. 

Slowly, almost experimentally, he runs a single finger through your slit. It struck you that it was gonna be really hard to stay quiet. “You this wet for me?” He faked flattery, pulling his finger away. 

“Jake, please.” You whined. Trying to get him to do something, you lifted your legs up so your calves rested on your shoulders. 

“I wanna take my time with you.” He pressed a kiss to your clit, the light touch sending jolts throughout your whole body. “Give you what you deserve.”

Apparently, ‘taking his time with you’ meant diving into you and going absolutely feral. It was feverish, the way he licked and sucked you was so greedy. There was no time for you to feel bad about squeezing his head between your thighs, but you suspected he liked it anyway. He does. His nails dug into your thighs so he could hold onto you for leverage. There was no way of telling if he was sucking or biting your clit, but whatever it was, it made your vision blurry and your thoughts completely disappear. It was necessary for one of your hands to cover your mouth or else this whole office would know how good Jake is. 

All this time, his cockiness was not for nothing. You understood why he had girls obsessed and delusional, you would do the same for this treatment. Maybe he’s had a lot of practice, but there is no way he is this fierce with every other girl. He was making you feel like you were the only girl in the world, like your head was spinning. He didn’t use his fingers, he really didn’t need to, his mouth already had you fighting to not cum so quickly. Ever intuitive, the only time he broke away from you was to say “Give it to me” against you. His deep voice sent vibrations through your core to your fingertips. The bright fluorescent light above you seemed to expand as your vision went white. The air left your lungs, your head spun, every muscle in your body tensed. His tongue worked you through your orgasm perfectly, and he let you grind against him as you hit your peak. “Good fucking girl.” He moaned against you.

Once he was positive you were done, he reluctantly pulled away. If he had it his way, he would keep you just like this all day. You couldn’t sit up yet, all you could do was lay there and catch your breath. 

Jake knew this was bad. Not because you were his best friend's wife, but because now he had a taste and he knows he won’t be able to stop any time soon. He picked your underwear up off of the floor and gently slid them onto your shaky legs. You let him dress you again, eyes still closed. When he was done, you sat up and the look he gave you was nothing short of sinister. 

He leaned his hands on the desk on either side of you, looking at you like he wanted you to say something. You brought your hands up to either side of his face and kissed him in response, words could not do what he just did to you justice. This kiss was much slower than the rest, he let you taste yourself on his lips. 

Two voices talking in the hallway passed his door, making the two of you jump apart. The voices faded down the hallway, leaving the two of you tensed. For a second, the only thing either of you could do was look at each other. Every emotion possible coursed through your body, and you didn’t know whether to smile or cry or laugh or kiss him again. 

“Jesus, Y/N.” He finally spoke, stunned and shakily. “I didn’t think that was actually ever gonna happen.”

That made you smile. He had thought about it before, which came as no surprise. The cold air of the office washed over you, bringing you back into reality. “You are…” Words failed you, nothing could describe how you felt. “So good.”

Of course, his cocky smile made an appearance. You could no longer judge him for it, he has every right in the world to be cocky. “You better leave before your husband sees you here.” He backed up to let you get off his desk. 

“Yeah.” You agreed begrudgingly, looking down at the ground. You got a sight of your legs, your thighs were glistening and there were nail marks in them. 

As you stepped away from him, he grabbed your arm. “This isn’t a one time thing. At least not for me.” He spoke inches from your ear. “And lock the door next time.”

You swallowed. “Okay.” 

Back at home, you had 2 hours before Bradley got back. You had done your mourning of the relationship, you had spent your time wishing Bradley was different for weeks. Wishing he was sorry. But he’s not. And he’s never going to be. You could continue to be sad, continue to be a victim, continue to cry every day. But there were some other options.

A quick google search of the name that was burned into the back of your eyelids; Clara Bitner, you found her facebook. There was a time where you felt sorry for her. Bradley had obviously lied to her and she got caught up in something she didn’t even understand, so she was probably hurt too. But now that you know she has chosen to continue seeing your husband when she knows he’s married, you hate her. It’s so unfortunate that she was pretty. It would help if you could look at her pictures and say she was ugly, but that wasn’t an option. She had long strawberry blonde hair with deep brown eyes and classic southern charm. She was from Tennessee, but she went to UCLA, and now she’s a kindergarten teacher. “Of fucking course.” You scoffed at her occupation. Is there anything bad about this girl? She had a lot of friends and she lived in a beach condo maybe 20 minutes from here. You had been scrolling for a while, and a certain picture made you stop in your fucking tracks. It was a picture from her 22nd birthday dinner, all of her friends sitting around the table smiling, and there was Bradley. He was sitting next to her with his hand resting on her leg, with a huge fucking smile on his face. It was posted 4 months ago. If he was important to her enough to go to her birthday dinner four months ago, you didn’t want to know how long they had been seeing each other. 

How did he have time for this? This wasn’t a hook up, it wasn’t an affair, it was a second life. You began to think about all of the flight tours, weekend trips, and week long missions he had gone on in the past year. How many of those were lies?

Your marriage is completely ruined, 100% done. You could mope about it. Or you could keep having fun of your own.

By the time you heard the garage door opening, you were in the kitchen making dinner. You played the song “Jolene” by Dolly Parton because it was ironic and weirdly specific to your life right now. And it was just plain funny. 

 The front door opened and you turned the volume up. “Hey baby!” He shouted from the front of the house.

“Hi!” You said. Acting normal was going to be harder than you thought. You heard him playing with the dogs for a moment, baby talking and petting them. 

His footsteps approached the kitchen and you took a deep breath. “God, you look sexy.” He said.

You were wearing shorts and a t-shirt and no makeup. You brushed off his comment as guilty flattery.

He came up and you had to brace yourself. He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed the side of your neck. It made you fucking sick. 

Not replying, you started humming along to the music. He swayed with you for a moment so you started singing.

You’re beauty is beyond compare,

With flaming locks of auburn hair,

Ivory skin, and eyes of emerald green.

“I love this song.” You stated. 

“Mhm. Dolly’s the best.” He unwrapped his arms from you.

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

I'm begging of you please don't take my man.

He side eyed you and you stared right back at him. Yet, in perfect Bradley nature, he played it cool, walking to the other side of the counter.

“Poor Dolly.” You sighed. “Especially since that bitch Jolene is ginger. That just plain sucks, getting cheated on with a red head.” Trying to focus on the pot you were stirring, you couldn’t help but look up at him. His tongue was in his cheek and he had a terrified glint in his eyes.

“What?” You asked innocently.

“Nothin’.” He shook his head and walked away. 

This was kinda fun.

“You have any plans tonight?” You asked Bradley over dinner. It was a Friday, so you figured he was going somewhere, be it with Clara or not.

“Eh, Jake and Javy wanna go watch the game at a bar, I’ll probably go.” He said. “D’ you?”

That was probably a lie. “I think Jenna wants me to come meet her baby, so I’ll probably go over there. Plus she said she needs a wine night.” Jenna was your coworker, and she hasn’t even had her baby yet. It was so empowering to lie back.

While Bradley did the dishes, you got out your phone to clear some things up.

Are you hanging out with Bradley tonight?

“What time do you think you’re gonna go?” You asked from the table. His eyes were on the dishes and it was incredible how he lied so often without flinching while it made your adrenaline rush and your heart pound. 

“7:30, 8?” He said. 

No? Is he saying I am?

The feeling you got was the perfect definition of disappointed but not surprised. It’s a confirmed lie now. “Okay, that’s probably what time I’ll leave too.”

Yes. He’s leaving at 8. Can I come over then?

Of course.

Were you doing this purely to get back at Bradley? No, not entirely. That was a huge driving factor in your actual actions towards Jake, but you’ve always wanted to, so part of it is something you’ve always wanted. 

Not long after dinner was cleaned up, Bradley was kissing your forehead and heading out the door. You watched out the window as his car pulled out of the driveway, and once it disappeared down the street, you rushed up to your room. There was a lacy black bra and thong set you had just bought waiting for you in your closet. Once you pulled it on, you admired yourself in the mirror. If Bradley won’t appreciate it, Jake sure will. You exchanged your t-shirt for a sweatshirt, you didn’t want to look like you were trying. Obviously, you were. 

After spraying yourself with perfume and taking too long to decide what scent of lotion you wanted to use, you nearly ran down stairs and slipped your shoes on. A quick goodbye to the dogs and you were out the door. It seemed that every time you drove to Jake’s you were rushing. While you were driving you thought about what you were going to do when you got there, fully intending to be bold and get straight to it. The fluttering nervousness in your stomach made you feel like you were a teenager again, you hadn’t been nervous to see a boy in years. When you pulled in the driveway, the boldness started to fade out, and you almost felt shy. There was a split second where you felt guilty, your conscience waved a huge red flag and your brain told you this was wrong. One thought about where Bradley actually was right now, and you swung the car door open and got out. The thought that Bradley probably just got to Clara’s fueled your steps, and by the time you made it to the front door, you were seething. Hopefully Bradley has fun tonight, because you sure will.

Despite the vengeance coursing through your body, you knocked lightly on the door. All too quickly, the lock clicked and the door opened. “Hey, Y/N.” Jake said casually, like you weren’t his best friend's wife. He was freshly showered, his hair was still a little damp. He wore gray sweatpants and a white shirt that was entirely too tight around his biceps. 

“Hi.” You said simply. He stepped back, allowing you to come in. It was quiet, and when he turned around to face you, there was an unmistakable anticipation present. It made a shiver run up your spine and goosebumps breakout on your arms. He nodded his head as a way to say ‘follow me’, and started leading you through the house. Silence still hung in the air. It felt like a volcano waiting to explode, like the calm before a storm. 

You made it to his room, and your heartbeat started to speed up. It was getting real now. You had never seen his room before, but it’s just as nice as you expected. Jake has expensive taste, and his whole house reflects that. His bed was lazily made, but the rest of the room was spotless. 

He reached his bed and sat down on the end of it. The way his hooded eyelids cast a shadow over his eyes made you notice how dark the lighting was in there. Unsure of what to do, you just stood and looked at him. He led you here without a word, he should know what to do now. 

“Come here.” He said darkly, the voice you heard in his office earlier that day made a return. He spread his legs open so you could stand between them, a complete contrast to what happened on his desk. You still hadn’t said a word since you walked in the house, but you didn’t need to, your body said it all. The back of your thighs fit perfectly in his hands, and his shoulders fit perfectly in yours. His huge warm hands on the back of your legs made you want to melt into the floor. “Do you want this?” He asked, looking up at you. 

Bradleys face flashed in your mind. So did Clara’s. You nodded.

“Say it.” His grip tightened on your thighs. 

“I want it.”

“You want what?” He was really making you work for it, apparently.

You went to say it, but you hesitated. It sounded worse out loud. “I want you to fuck me.”

You swear his eyes changed in that instant. He let go of your thighs and pushed you back lightly, confusing you for a moment. “Strip.” He said. Heart in your throat, your jaw could’ve dropped to the floor. This was a lot. But you liked it. 

Taking a deep breath, you started by kicking your shoes off. It only felt right to tease him, so you toyed with the rim of your sweatshirt for a moment. You slowly lifted it over your head, taking your sweet time. When you finally got it off, you heard him exhale. You secretly thanked yourself for wearing such a nice bra. The dim lighting made his face darker, but you could still see the pure lust in his eyes. Next, you hooked your finger in your shorts and pulled them down, revealing the underwear you picked out just for him. Once you kicked your shorts off of your feet, you reached your hand behind your back to unclip your bra.

“Leave it.” He said. You dropped your hands and let him look at you. He reached his hand out to you, making you step forward and grab it. As he was pulling you towards him, his eyes moved all over your body. “You pick these out for me or for him?” 

Your face grew hot. “You.” You replied softly, your hand still in his. He used his grip on your hand to pull you down to kiss him. It was searing, and for a second, both of you reveled in the feeling. Without him having to ask, you climbed on top of him, stradling your legs on either side of him. When your core felt how hard he was under his sweatpants, it made your whole body twitch. If that’s what simply feeling him through his clothes felt like, you had no idea what was going to happen when he actually fucked you. He must have felt it too, his hands gripped your ass and pulled you closer to him. 

Things were moving quickly, but it was still entirely too slow. He flipped you over onto your back and sat up to take his shirt off. This was by far not the first time you had seen Jake with his shirt off, but by god, it was the best. Maybe he was flexing, but you didn't care. He was sculpted like an angel, like there wasn’t a single flaw about his body. His hair got messed up when his shirt was pulled over it, it ruffled the top. It only made him look hotter. It was hard to not notice his dick through his gray sweatpants, and simply the size of his bulge made you nervous. When he bent back down to meet your lips, you kissed him in a rushed manner. It was beyond the point of wanting him, you needed him. “You want my mouth again?” He asked against your lips.

The thought made your eyes roll back in your head. Yes, you undoubtedly wanted his mouth, but you needed him inside you more. You hooked your fingers in his waistband and shook your head. He got the message, but that didn’t mean he was going to give you what you wanted right away. He used both of his hands to pull your underwear down. “Slutty fuckin’ panties.” He mumbled. Your lips met again and it felt like you couldn’t spread your legs any wider for him. Without warning, without a single preliminary touch, he stuck two of his fingers inside of you. This earned a theatrical reaction from you, like it was the first time someone has touched you that way. While it wasn’t the first time by a long shot, it somehow felt like it was, you had never been touched like this. 

“Jake” Was the only thing you could get out of your mouth as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. When you tilted your head back to moan, he took the opportunity to kiss your neck. He felt like he wanted to moan more than you did. His mouth sloppily worked its way down your neck and onto your chest. It would have been smart to ask him not to leave any marks on you, but you didn’t care one bit anymore. Not while his teeth were pulling your bra down. He sucked one of your nipples into your mouth, his fingers were still moving in and out of you. 

“You’re so perfect” He mumbled against your chest. You had never felt a complement that sounded so sincere, just the sound of him saying that made you feel perfect. Under his touch, under his body, under his lips, you were perfect. His fingers curled inside you and your back couldn’t arch any higher, your whimpers couldn’t get any more desperate. He used his arm next to your head to sit up, looking you up and down. His eyes roaming your body didn’t make you insecure or shy, they just riled you up even more. 

His fingers were amazing, but they could only do so much. You both knew what you really wanted. “Please Jake. Please fuck me.” You cried. With one last particularly harsh curl of his fingers, he pulled his fingers out of you. He brought his fingers up to your lips, only having to brush your wetness onto your lips for a second before you sucked them into your mouth without thinking. A low groan came from the back of his throat when you gagged on his fingers, licking your own slick off of him. 

He let his fingers stay in your mouth for longer than they needed to be, purely for the way you looked while taking them. Your eyes bore into his the whole time, and you thought that if he was going to humor himself with this for any longer, you were going to take matters into your own hands. The tips of your nails dragged down his chest, over his stomach, and to the waist of his sweatpants. Teasing was an option, but you couldn’t anymore, your hands gripped his sweats as you pulled them down. While doing so, a realization crossed your mind; he isn’t wearing any underwear. That’s Jake, ever classy. 

He enjoyed letting you do the work, so he leaned down to taste your wetness on your lips. His tongue licked into your mouth, trying to collect anything that was left; the taste of you was addicting, he had gotten a taste in his office earlier, and he knew he was already addicted. You didn’t see his dick right away, but you felt it when you wrapped your hand around it. When you realized how thick he was, your heart fluttered. He was thicker than anything you had ever taken, thicker than your husband. A moan slipped from your mouth into his, and that was his tipping point. Before you could make any further moves, both of your hands were pinned above your head with only one of his. He used the other to pull his sweatpants down further, then line himself up with you. The sound of his breathing was loud as he slid his tip up and down your slit, making you squirm. “God,” he shook his head, his eyes glued to your pussy “you are so fucking wet.”

“Because I’m with you.” You said. It sounded like a simple observation to you, but to Jake it meant that you wanted him, you have always wanted him, the way that he has always wanted you. It meant that you were this wet every time you were around him, the way that he was rock solid every time he was around you. That thought was his breaking point, there was no teasing left that he could do, he slid himself inside of you. You knew that he would stretch you, but the feeling still surprised you. 

“Oh my god.” You whined as he bottomed out. He stopped all of the way inside of you, partially to let you adjust, and partially to revel in the feeling of being inside you. Everything was hazy, his vision, his mind, but he still was able to think about how long he had wanted this. Just the thought of seeing you with Bradley at the bars every weekend, and the fact that you were now underneath him, was enough to make him want to cum. Sweat started to bead on his forehead, and he decided to wait a little longer to start moving, his hand came up to hold your jaw, making you look at him. “You’re so big.” You croaked under his touch. 

His lips were an inch from yours, you could feel his breath. “Take it.” He spat. With that, he started to move. Even with your head against his pillows, you felt lightheaded and your eyes fluttered closed as he pulled all of the way out and went slowly back in. From there, he was no longer slow. It only took seconds for his pace to quicken, until his skin was slapping into yours and the sound was infiltrating your ears. The stretch definitely hurt, but the pain was mixed with the most mouthwatering pleasure. Without even trying, he was hitting the perfect spot deep inside you, and soon the sound of skin slapping was overtaken by your high pitched moans. Without realizing it, he screwed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw, making this last as long as he wanted was going to be a lot harder than normal. You felt his lips against your neck and with his face closer to your ears, you could hear his grunts every time he thrust inside of you. 

His hand was still on your jaw, and even though your wrists had been freed above your head, you hadn’t even noticed. His other hand grabbed onto your hair for leverage. It seemed like his thrusts got harder each time he entered you. “Talk to me, pretty girl. Tell me how you feel.” His tongue swirled behind your ear. 

“So good.” You choked out. “You’re so good, Jake. So, so, so good.” Rambles fell out of your mouth as your arms wrapped around his back. The feeling of nails scratching down his back was one of Jake’s favorite things in the world, so when your long nails stroked all the way from his shoulders to his tailbone, he threw his head back. He sat up so his face was above you again, and slid his hand from your jaw to your neck.

Your eyes found his, and the sight of his tanned, sweaty, toned body above yours made you throb around him. His pace was insane, the pain of him slamming into you was drowned out by the tip of his dick hitting your g-spot with every single thrust. The sight of him, the power behind his thrusts, his size, it was all too much. The tears that had been stinging your eyes for the past 5 minutes started to fall. The throbbing of your pussy and the tightening of your stomach told you that you were close. “J-Jake…” You stuttered. “I’m… I…”

“Beg.” He squeezed your throat. 

“P-Please.” You said the word that you felt like you had already said 50 times tonight. “Please, I’ve waited so long. Please, please, please please please” You rambled, more tears falling. 

“Fuuuck, give it to me.” He groaned and dropped his head, the sight of your doe eyes and tears were going to make him cum himself if he didn’t look away. It didn’t take long after his demand for you to let the wave of pleasure consume you. Mouth falling open, your whole body pulsed and your mind went completely blank. More tears welled in your eyes and the only sensation your body could make out was the feeling of his lips on your jaw. It lasted long and it was powerful, and when you were finally coherent again, there was a noticeable wet spot underneath you. “Good job, sweet girl.” He praised, his sweetness making your stomach flutter. 

Coming back up to hover over you, he kissed you. Believe it or not, Jake is not a complete and total dick, despite popular belief. He had told himself he would not ask you this question, that it would be crossing a line and it could upset you. But, when he pulled away and he saw how fucked-out you looked, and the feeling of your pussy clenching around him clouded his mind, he couldn’t help himself. “Does he fuck you like this?” He asked darkly, his face close to yours.

There was a clear answer. It was staring you right in the face. But saying it out loud just felt wrong. Even more wrong than what you were already doing. “Jake…” You breathed as a surrender. 

“Tell me.” He said. Your mouth opened to answer, then closed again. He raised his eyebrows, his cockiness reflecting in his eyes. To his defense, he had absolutely every right to be cocky about this. You shook your head. “No. Say it.” He said through gritted teeth. 

“No. No he doesn’t.” It came out as almost a laugh. “Nobody ever has.”

“Yeah?” His arms flexed underneath your fingernails that were digging into them. You nodded. 

His energy had an obvious change, the admission had done something sinister to him. He sat fully up and pulled out, earning a loud wince from you. All at once, he grabbed your waist and flipped you over onto your stomach. With one hand, he reached under your stomach to pull you onto your hands and knees. Only having been out of you for seconds, he slammed himself back in. You were already sore, and he wasn’t even done yet. 

Now that your big, tear-filled eyes weren’t staring into his, he was able to start really talking. “Y/N,” one of his huge hands gripped your ass, the other held onto your waist. “I don’t even want to tell you how many times I’ve thought about this.” The only response he got from you was a high pitched whine. “I felt disgusting for thinking about you like that, but I couldn’t help it. It drove me fucking crazy, having to imagine taking you like this every night, my best friends wife.” That probably wasn’t the best thing for him to say right now, but he couldn’t control the words coming out of his mouth anymore. Unbeknownst to him, it just turned you on even more. His thrusts started to lose rhythm, and as much as he would like to keep this going all night, he was coming unraveled. “I always knew I would take better care of you.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “I knew he couldn’t fuck you the way I could. The way you deserve.” 

It felt almost like you were going in and out of consciousness, like you could barely even process his words. Without warning to him or yourself, you pulsed around him and another orgasm poured over your body. No words came from your mouth, and by the end of the second-most powerful orgasm of your life, your body was nearly limp and your face fell to press against the mattress. “Jesus, baby.” Jake breathed. “You just… so much… fuck, where do you want my cum?” he asked, almost rhetorically because of how little time you had to answer. He pulled out at the exact last moment, and you felt his warm cum start to run down your back. He collapsed, trapping your body underneath him as his armed caged around your sides. 

Time felt different, and your hazy mind didn’t know how long the two of you laid there, breathless. Finally, gaining full consciousness, you felt Jake get off of you and walk out of the room. You were smart enough not to turn over, his bedsheets were already wet enough. The feeling of a cold wet towel against your core made your whole body jolt. “Relax, relax.” Jake said, his voice completely different than just a few minutes ago. As he gently wiped your back with the towel, his other hand came to brush hair out of your face, noticing your completely blank expression. “Are you okay?” He asked.

A smile cracked through your lips. You could say the smile was sinister, a I-just-fucked-my-husbands-best-friend smile, or you could say it was pure bliss, a I-just-had-the-best-sex-of-my-life smile. You preferred the latter. “Yeah.” You giggled “You could say that.”

His shoulders relaxed, and a very similar smile spread across his face. While he was putting his sweatpants back on, you glanced at his alarm clock. Nine o clock, it had only been an hour since you left your house. You sunk into the bed with the realization that you had all of the time in the world. Unintentionally, the math of where Bradley is calculated itself in your head. Clara lives further north, on the coast, about 25 minutes from here. Bradley has just gotten started there. 

When Jake climbed in bed next to you, the thought of cuddling made a chill crawl up your spine. For some reason, that felt like crossing a line. It felt more intimate than anything else that had happened in this bed tonight. But, Jake didn’t seem to think twice about it. When his strong arms wrapped around you, and you pressed your cheek against his warm chest, all of your inhibitions melted away. His hand rubbed up and down your back, and your eyes fluttered closed. The feeling of your eyelashes closing against his chest made Jake’s heart swell. Fuck.

-

When you walked up the stairs to your bedroom, the house felt eerily silent. It was unsettling. The stairs didn’t even creek as you walked up them, and your dogs were nowhere to be seen. You started to move quicker towards your bedroom, and you flipped the light on right away when you opened the door.

The sight of strawberry blonde hair splayed across your pillow reflected the overhead light. Your mouth fell open, and you tried to talk, but nothing would come out. Furthermore, you tried to yell, but it felt like you couldn’t even get a breath in to do so. You couldn’t even move your feet. 

Clara’s eyes opened, and she didn’t look shocked to see you. She sat up and met your eyes. A smile spread across her lips. 

Your whole body flinched and your eyes shot open. When you realized you were laying in Jake's bed, you were finally able to take a breath in. The realization made you relax into his arms for a moment, closing your eyes again. When the clouds in your mind started to clear, and you finally had a coherent thought, you realized that you were just asleep. In Jake’s bed. Your eyes shot open again, and your head whipped around to look at his alarm clock. It was 12:30. “Shit.” You gasped. Moving on pure instinct, you rolled out of his bed and started to gather your clothes. By the time your shorts were on, Jake woke up. 

“What’s wrong?” He groggily spoke. 

“We fell asleep. It’s 12:30.” You pulled your sweatshirt over your head. “I have to go home.”

“Oh.” He said. He was obviously not as freaked out as you were, but he wasn’t the one going home to his spouse. The room was quiet while you put your shoes on, and in the darkness you were able to make out Jake’s figure standing up and rubbing his eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” You turned your head to say as you walked out of his room. Fully intending to book it to your car, your rushed movements were stopped by Jake grabbing your wrist right before you reached the front door. He pulled you to his chest and kissed you. His lips were soft, and his hands held your hips gently. Only letting the kiss last a few seconds, you pulled away. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears and you wondered if Bradley had tried calling you, if he was worried about you. Just past his shoulder, you saw Jake's couch, the one you were sitting on when he had originally told you about Bradley’s affair. Just the sight made your blood start to boil. 

You kissed him again. “Goodnight Jake.”

“Goodnight.” His hands left your hips and one last glance was shared between the two of you before you were out the front door. No promises of this happening again, no ‘text me when you get home’, just a pit in both of your stomachs that said this was wrong, but there is no way we are stopping. The air was chilly as you walked to your car and you didn’t have it in yourself to speed home this time. You didn’t care. Driving slowly, you let the radio play softly in the background and when you turned the corner to your street and saw Bradley’s car in the driveway, you hardly reacted. The lights were still on, and with a glance at your phone let you know that he still hadn’t texted or called. 

It was 12:45 and Bradley was on the couch watching TV. Not unusual, but you were still quiet when you walked in. “How’s Jenna?” He didn’t take his eyes away from the TV.

“Good.” You kicked off your shoes. “Her baby is so cute.” While you hoped the questions would stop there, you knew it would be suspicious to just go upstairs right away. How does Bradley do this every day?

He lifted the blanket he was using up so you could crawl under it. His warm skin felt safe and familiar. As usual, his hand fell to your hair to pet it. Closing your eyes, you could already feel the guilt seeping through your skin and crawling up to form a lump in your throat. “How was the game?” You faked curiosity. 

“Mm.” He grumbled. “Philly lost. Per usual.”

You began to wonder if he actually watched it. “How’s Jake?” 

His chest rose under your cheek as he took a breath in. “Good, I think. Same old same old.”

“Mhm.” You agreed. Fucking liar.

An overwhelming feeling of disgust overtook you. He was lying, but so were you. You were just as bad as him. You thought back to the early days of your relationship, when you said you would do anything for each other, you would never leave each other, that you loved each other more than anything in the world. What happened? Where did you go wrong?

Tears stung your eyes and nausea crept up your throat. "I'm gonna go to bed." You sprung off the couch and booked it towards the stairs.

Bradley didn't flinch. "Goodnight." He spoke, eyes glued to the TV "I love you."

You glanced back at him, and maybe if he was looking at you he would see the disturbance of disgust and infidelity on your face. Regardless, you said nothing in response and walked up the stairs silently.