#but yeah to be fair that's not much of a con to me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

simpjaes · 9 months ago

Text

desecration. (s.j)

the one where no gods exist when you’re alone with jake sim.

minors dni !! | if you read it, reblog it.

WORDCOUNT ― 6.4k

PAIRING ― jake sim x afab reader

GENRE ― top/dom jake sim, characters are in their twenties, sub/bratty reader, religious kink/fetish

WARNINGS― mild dub con, desecration of holy a relic, inaccurate descriptions of whatever religion this is– im not doing research for a 5k fic that’s mostly smut, sorry.

NOTE― if you’ve read this before, it’s because I wrote it for mark lee over on my other blog [ncteez]. we wanted to make it jake, and by we i mean me. i wanted to read this as jake. sorry to religious ppl, don’t read this if you don’t wanna be railed by a hot guy wielding a cross.

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― DUB CON. use of the words: whore, slut, for the record, the cross is not raw wood and has a smooth finish, reader is first attempting to seduce the priest through confession lmao, she’s also just a massive whore just like me :), jake is the priest’s son, jerking off, penetration using a wooden cross, unprotected sex, spitting, choking on and/or sucking off a cross, degradation, and name-calling, he’s a godfearing man but also he likes sexual perversions, humiliation, explicitly getting fucked in a church, kind of fingering?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake wonders why you’re always making confessions, time and time again, once a week, every single week….eagerly. Like you’re excited for your sin or something.

Huh.

Then again, once a week his father is expected to listen to confessions from the other churchgoers, even Jake himself is expected to confess. Often he will make up sins that he has committed just to seem as though he has been learning from some sort of mistake. Never would Jake actually tell his father through a confession booth what he has done or is willing to do. He’s an adult, he can confess whatever he wants.

You, on the other hand, you’re working his father to the bone in terms of forgiveness.

Jake’s interest piques at the very idea of a young woman, around his age, wanting to confess so much. Did you hurt someone? Does you hurt yourself? Did you kill someone? Or maybe you’re just caught up in a situation that makes you commit atrocities? He can’t even imagine what one person could be doing to elicit such an eager need of forgiveness so consistently.

Always the first in the box, always with those inappropriate outfits too.

Jake makes his way to the back of the church to complete his duties and, of course, he isn’t surprised to see you enter the confession booth. After all, it is the start of a new week.

Hushed whispers were echoing through the large space and only now does he realize that you almost always confess when the church is nearly empty. You must not be unaware of his presence at all, unaware that he is the son of the priest that you spill your sins to, and unaware that he can absolutely hear you when he walks closer.

He isn’t entirely sure why he is listening. The walls of this church echo any and every sound, and to be fair, the only reason his interest is piqued is because his father was silent from the moment you had entered the booth. All he heard was you. You didn’t seem to start the confession off in a proper manner either, so yeah, maybe it caught him off guard too.

His ears make attempts to adjust to the words coming from the booth, but your voice is coming out in a tone that he has never used himself when seeking salvation. Minutes pass and he still hasn’t heard his father speak a word back to you, not to encourage you, not to stop you. It’s just you, addressing dreams, visions, wants, and needs.

Certainly not confession. In fact, you’re actively sinning, attempting to seduce.

“I woke up shaking, Father. What should I do?”

Jake notes how quiet his father is still, despite you asking him what to do about the dream. His face sours when you continue to speak, this time in a slightly louder tone.

“I just can’t help myself sometimes, I–”

It’s not that it’s intentional, really, it isn’t. If anything at all, Jake is incredibly disgusted by your attempts to dirty talk during a confession. Disgusted that you’d do such a thing, and…maybe intrigued by what you may have said that he wasn’t quite able to catch before. He quietly moves to the other side of the booth, the side where you seem to be spouting off all sorts of things, and he raises his head to listen a bit more.

“You were big, you know? I can’t get thoughts of you out of my head. Have you ever touched a woman, Father?”

Jake leans in further, his body reacting more than his disgust. Unfortunately, his length growing in his pants ceases the moment his father cuts you off.

“Enough.” His father finally stops you from abusing the booth, from abusing him.

Not another word is spoken and Jake does his best to back away quickly and quietly as you exit the booth. Of course, he’s acting as though he is sweeping a corner when he turns to look at you. Eye contact is made and he can feel an intense rush of heat spread across his cheeks.

Ah, so you’re a whore.

His father stays inside of the booth for a long, drawn out, three or so minutes before exiting and all Jake can think about is if you walked out of the church soaked and warm between your legs. It’s not even that Jake is into sinning. He isn’t. His entire life was built around this church, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a man. He has needs just like you do, apparently.

Never would he get what he needs from a woman as dirty as yourself, though, it doesn’t stop him from thinking about it and how your voice sounds when you were actively trying to fuck his dad.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“You’re disgusting.” Jake narrows his eyes at you when you pass by, spitting the words at you with a grimace.

“Excuse me?” You ask, stopping in your tracks and looking back at him just as harshly. You didn’t provoke him to speak to you at all, let alone fucking insult you?

“You think I can’t hear the way you speak to my dad during your little “confessions”?” He takes a step forward as he whispers at you, air quoting the word confession with a roll of his eyes.. “You really think he’s just going to take you up on the offer?”

Narrowing your own eyes, you step closer to Jake to stop anyone else from hearing his little tantrum.

“Wanna tell me why he always listens to my “confessions” then?” You question back, mimicking the air quotes and smirking as you walk away from him, not even letting him answer.

Jake watches as you leave, upset that he didn’t get a rise out of you at all and instead was offered a genuine question that sits in his mind. Why does his father allow you to make a confession after confession if all it is, is an attempt to seduce him? You’re even ashamed of it, it seems, and it pisses him off to no end.

Rushing after you, he is quick to grab at your dress and pull you back.

“Might as well just show up naked with the way you act around here,” He starts with a bite in his tone, dragging you off, down the hall and into a side room that usually remains empty.

He intends to put a stop to this because he’s heard several more of your confessions by his own will and learns that, apparently, your only sin is being a fucking slut.

“You have no place here.” He adds as he closes the door behind the two of you. Unintentionally locking you into a space that he’s directly saying you don’t belong in.

“Acting like you don’t think about fucking. Hah. We both know I’m not the only one,” You laugh, walking across the room with a shrug. It’s not the first time you’ve been reprimanded in a church, and it probably won’t be the last. “Besides, your dad probably thinks about me late at night after tucking your grown ass into bed like a child.”

Jake narrows his eyes even more at you.

“Bet that pisses you off.”

“You’re ridiculous to think he would even want someone like you.” Jake scoffs harshly at you, gut bubbling with annoyance. “To think about sex this often too? I can’t imagine anyone would want to touch such a slut.”

You watch him walk towards you, with his perfectly tucked shirt and his darkened and angry eyes. Being alone with him doesn’t help his argument though because, in all fairness, he’s just as hot, if not hotter than his father.

“What about you then?” You ask, leaning against one of the shelves in the room, running your hand up your legs, and hiking your dress up a couple of inches.

“Your dad with his lingering eyes won’t admit to having ever touched a woman. Yet here you are.” You call out the priest’s lie with a snide chuckle before continuing. Fingers massaging your own fleshy thighs, watching the way Jake struggles with his own lingering eyes. “What about you? You ever fuck anyone?”

Jake grimaces, wrinkling his nose as he watches you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He questions, stomping over to you and pushing your dress back down below your knees.

“Oh!” You laugh, ticking your tongue at him and tilting your head. “You said a bad word. Aren’t you going to ask for forgiveness?”

He stares at you for a few seconds, being face to face with a woman that seems so desperate for any touch has his heart racing. He’s trying to call you out, not turn you on.

“Can’t you act decent? I barely know you and you’re flaunting yourself at me.” Jake bellows, stumbling back from you and examining the way your body is relaxed.

You really seem to be enjoying this.

“You’re the one who pulled me in here. Was it really to argue with me, or were you trying to get to me before Father does?”

Thinking for a moment, Jake realizes he’s the reason this is happening. He could have just let you leave like everyone else, after all, you were attempting to go home. Here he is though, and there you are.

“He would never.” Jake laughs, mocking your attempts to pretend his father would be interested in you.

“And again, what about you?” You shoot back instantaneously, watching the way his words get caught in his throat.

He’s a weak man, truly, because the very thought of what’s under your dress, the very idea that you’re so willing, fogs his brain to the point of almost malfunctioning. It would be so fucking easy if he wanted to.

No one would even know.

Before you even know it, you can feel the air in the room change as he storms closer to you and rips your dress upwards to your waist. Instantly, he’s shoving his hand straight between your legs.

A small yelp leaves your throat followed by a laugh. Perfect.

“I knew it.” You giggle, bumping your head a bit against the shelf at the force of his movement. You can feel the way his palm cups your core and presses in harshly through his silent breaths. “I fucking knew you were dirty.”

“Stop,” Jake demands, bringing his other hand to cover your mouth. “Stop talking.” He continues, already pulling his hand from your core and second-guessing himself.

“If you want it so bad, I’m going to need you to shut the fuck up.”

You nod with a smile against his palm, breathing in when he pulls it back and trusts your ability to stay quiet. He’s staring directly into your eyes as if he’s threatening you. As if he will stop if you make a single peep. A promise that he will probably get you banned from the church if anyone were to find out what’s happening in this room right now. At his darkened gaze, you poke your tongue out, licking his palm and watching him pull back in aroused shock at how unashamed you are regarding your arousal. But, you do stay true to your work and remain quiet once his eyes trail down.

He looks at you as if you’re some sort of monstrous entity, and for him at this moment, you probably are. But even with that, you see what’s growing in his pants before he lowers himself onto the floor. Positioning his face right in front of your clothed pussy.

What a dirty, dirty boy.

Jake can see the wet stain of your panties and all he can do is roll his eyes.

“You’re insane.” He laughs, eyes darting up to your face, looking at you like he wants to shame you. “Getting so messy in such a place, all for men who don’t fucking want you?”

You nod, wiggling your hips at him in an attempt to entice his lips to attach there. But he doesn’t. He just stands right back up to his feet and takes a step backwards.

“I bet if I left you here, you’d chase after me.” He mocks. “I bet you think I’m gonna stick it in you, don’t you?”

Proudly, you smile with a nod. Of course he's going to stick it in. You can see how hard he’s gotten. Sin or not, you know when a man wants to fuck you. Jake won’t be able to resist sooner or later, son of the priest or not.

“Wow,” He laughs quietly, shaking his head at you as he reaches behind a podium and pulls out a large, lacquered wooden cross. “You really are stupid.”

Great, you think as your face falls. He’s definitely about to start preaching to you with that stupid fucking cross. Maybe he will even attempt to perform an exorcism to expel the horny demons out of you.

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes, standing yourself up straight from against the shelf and patting your dress back down into position. “Don’t start this shit.” You’re already preparing to walk out without looking twice at him, but he laughs right back at you.

“You think you know everything.” He chuckles, walking towards the door and locking it. He stands in front of it now, crossing his arms and staring at you.

“Don’t I?” You ask, eyeing the way he presents himself to you right now.

“Did I not just imply that I wouldn’t use my cock on you?” He questions, twitching in his pants at the way you stand before him, much smaller in energy now.

He can tell you’re still trying to act brave, and it delights him to see the realization spread across that pretty, silent mouth.

Oh. Oh.

“You’re going to–?” You swallow hard, realizing that of all the sins you could commit, the implication of being penetrated with a cross, solely so this man doesn’t have to fuck a whore isn’t one you ever thought of.

This room doesn’t even feel like part of a church now as he holds the cross with more reason than praying.

“Yeah,” He assures you. “I am.” Stepping forward toward you and looming down at your face. “Now get on the desk.”

You don’t know why, but your body acts on instinct for him. Immediately walking to the desk and propping yourself onto it.

“Take off your clothes.” He demands again, watching you intently as he stays in place, rubbing the long end of the cross much like he’d like to do for himself right now.

God, watching such a stubborn woman do everything he says is��well, it’s new for him and it ignites a new type of arousal within him.

And you watch him back as you begin to slip your dress from your shoulders, lifting your ass so that you can push it down and onto the floor.

“Oh, now you wanna act shy?” He mocks, walking towards you as you attempt to tug at your panties. “And keep those on. No one wants to see that.”

Goddamn, you don’t even have the decency to wear a bra to service? Lucky for him though, your breasts are enough to drive him past the point of return. There’s no thought, fear, or prayer in his head right now as you reveal yourself to him. Going as far as trying to flash your pussy? Oh, he could laugh.

You stay quiet, doing as you’re told and watching the way he examines you. He must feel so in control right now and you’re happy to let him, but you can see him falling apart behind his eyes.

His cock is incredibly obvious beneath his nice dress pants, but you wouldn’t dare reach out to touch him, not yet at least. You’ll let him have his fun, despite the slight nervousness within you regarding that cross.

“Open your mouth.” He says, dragging the cross against your nipples and onto your chin. “Suck it.”

You almost shake your head at him. Such a hard wood sliding down your throat would surely hurt. It’ll bruise, it’ll fucking suffocate you.

Jake doesn’t seem to care about any of that though, because all he does in response to your widened and fear-stricken eyes is press the wood against your lips with a face of concentration.

You purse your lips, muffling a displeased grunt at his acts.

“You scared?” He smiles first, pulling the cross away and now tracing his fingers along your lips before prying them inside and hooking your mouth open. “Come on, don’t act like you don’t know how to suck.”

You relent this time, feeling the cold and smooth tip of the cross enter past your lips when he resumes his previous assault. It’s not that you are against doing it, you just…haven’t done it before.

You’re not exactly sure of how to respect a holy relic such as this one when you’re expected to choke on it.

“That’s it.” Jake coos, pressing the cross further into your mouth. “Open up real wide.”

You close your eyes at his voice, licking the smoothed object with an intensity you didn’t know you had. After all, it’s been so long since you’ve been intimate with a person, hence the constant wet dreams about your priest. This is somehow, incredibly hot to you. To have his son fucking your mouth, regardless of what object he’s using to do it.

Still, it does hurt. The intricate edges of the cross bruises each time it hits the clenching walls of your throat and mouth, but Jake seems to like the sound of you choking and sobbing around it. After all, he just continues to press the cross further and further in. Probably relishing in the way you try to swallow around it and relax your throat.

His eyes are so focused, seeing how much of it you can take and only imagining how good it would feel if it were his cock choking you right now. Despite your sputtering and crying eyes, you’re taking it so well.

Yeah, you’ve definitely done this before. Probably swallowed up some guy’s cum and begged for more despite still having a cock wedged in your throat. How lucky for them to have someone so desperate to be gagged.

“You’re filthy for doing this, you know that?” He laughs at your pain and how you don’t try to pull at his pushing hand, tipping the cross just a bit so that its hardened wood hits your throat in a way that hurts a bit too much.

You cough around it, only now pushing his hand back in protest. The tears are pouring from your eyes when the cross slides out of your mouth, and all you can do is blink up at him as you try to regain your breath.

Half expecting him to immediately hold your head in place just to shove the cross back in, Jake pulls back instead, tilting his head down to look at your panties.

Your legs instinctively cross to hide your arousal, but he prys your legs open regardless, forcing you to act as the whore you so wanted to be. For his father, for him, for anyone who would be willing, honestly.

You’ve gotten wetter.

“You’re so gross, I can’t believe you get off to this–” He laughs, feeling his cock begin to fucking ache. “You can take more, then.”

No, no. You don’t want to keep sucking it, but your mouth opens anyway. Too turned on by the idea of seeing Jake’s reaction to watching you be so dirty, so blasphemous.

The way he moans when you open your mouth willingly this time is…well, he looks fucking good. He sounds even better.

You take it into your mouth without so much as a second thought this time, allowing him to slide the cross back and forth against your tongue and into your throat. You willingly swallow around the harsh edges, tears falling all the while, of course.

You’re gagging so softly around it, he’s almost jealous over how you wanted his dad before you wanted him. Surely no one would do this for you, right? His father would never be with such a horny, needy, and dirty woman.

Jake though….shamefully, is very into it.

Into you, rather.

When he pulls it out this time, your saliva coats the cross in a way that nearly breaks his brain. Intensely, he stares at your lips, slack and waiting for him to continue his abuse. God, he’s so jealous. To think you would do this with someone else? With anyone? Anything?

It turns him on beyond belief, but feeling jealous of the fucking cross isn’t exactly something Jake wants to admit. His father? Sure, whatever. But a relic he’s prayed to his whole life? Growing resentful of it just because you take it down your pretty and bruised throat?

No.

Jake shifts now, unable to satiate the arousal within him without grabbing your hand and forcing you to grope his hidden cock. So hard, so fucking hard, he nearly lets out his own sob at the euphoric touch when he actually does it.

You’re a bit shocked that he’s letting you touch him, but you take the opportunity and run with it. You press your palm against him without any amount of shame, and all you can do is watch as he hangs his head, the saliva coated cross still gripped in his other hand.

“Bet you wanted to fuck my mouth.” You croak out, your voice sounding just as raw at your throat. “Bet you wanted me to take all of it and beg for your cum.”

His head shoots up in response to that as he grabs your face harshly, bucking against your hand at the same time. “Stop talking.” He seethes, releasing your face and inserting his fingers into your mouth instead. “Stick your tongue out.”

You do as he says, feeling his heavy cock twitching against your palm with each press.

Jake seems like an expert at this, you aren’t sure, but when he presses your tongue down with his fingers to open your throat up, he spits into your mouth so easily that you have no choice but to swallow it.

Well, okay. He could probably get away with doing that a few more times if he wanted to.

You moan when you swallow, lending him a dopey smile that shocks him. You weren’t supposed to like that in his eyes, but when you grab his cock in response rather than just palm at it, he can’t help but moan back at you.

His fingers continue to hold your tongue down as you jerk him off over his pants, and his hips stutter all the while until he loses all composure. Within a second, he stalks even closer, slamming both hands against the desk on either side of you and leaning forward to pin you there.

And then he grinds forward against your weak hand, pinned between him and the edge of the desk.

Yet still, he’s gripping that fucking cross as he pins you here.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, I can see it.” He croaks, not even allowing you to offer him a nod before he’s got his lips attached to yours and he’s licking into your mouth. It feels impossibly better than that cross pressing against the back of your throat but you swallow his kiss just as easily.

His hips continue to grind as he licks into your mouth like a man who doesn’t know how to kiss at all. So rough and messy with it, groaning more and more before he’s nearly a panting mess before you. He pulls back from the kiss only for a moment to stare at you, eye contact more fierce than it was before.

“I think you’re the one who wants to fuck me.” You manage to slip out before he can silence you again, and his eyes narrow instantly.

More than anything, that’s what he wants to do to you. He wants to shut you up in as many ways possible right now, and he definitely wants fucking you to be one of those ways. But he can’t, and he won't.

“Hah–you’d love that.” He laughs, reaching his empty hand between the two of you to press his pants down enough to let his cock spring free.

You can’t even get a good look at it, because he’s instantly grabbing himself and fucking his fist before looking back up at you.

“Go on, look.” He says, leaning a bit so that you can watch him jerk off in full view now. “Bet you’d beg for it if I told you to.”

“Please?” You instantly let out, eyes staring at the angry head of his cock leaking and pulsing.

“I didn’t say to actually beg–” He groans, halting his hand and instead, thrusting his hips into the tightly formed hole he’s created. “I’m not going to fuck you.” He laughs again, now pulling the cross back and into your view with a wicked smirk.

Of course. The cross. Well, at least you’re going to be fucked with something right?

You eye the piece of wood and then go back to watching him. You’re not sure what it is about this situation but it feels like your body is on fire. Maybe it’s because hell is right beneath you, just a floorboard away from what the two of you have gotten yourselves into behind this locked door.

“Oh?” He halts his hips and licks his lips. “You actually want me to fuck you with this?”

You nod frantically, spreading your legs in front of him and showing off how large the spot on your panties has grown since he last inspected it. You watch as his eyes practically burn a hole through your pussy.

Only then does he release his own cock and look back into your eyes. More seriously this time when reality and guilt clicks in his head.

“You are aware of what we are about to do, right?” His confidence falters blatantly as he glances at the cross. “Like, if you ever tell my dad about this, I will be disowned.”

“You think I’d snitch on you?” You roll your eyes, body nearly shaking to get fucked. God, why does he have to stop now?

“Well, since you’re so inclined to confess every fucking day–”

“Jake, you literally just fucked my throat with it.” You deadpan, hooking your legs around him to pull him close enough to feel his cock hit your wet panties. “You’re the dirtiest one here, I’m not going to give that up just to see you get disowned.”

He laughs at you for that. Because yeah, maybe he is. Maybe he’s the one who shouldn’t be in church, and maybe he’s the one who should have been confessing this whole time. Never in his life has he ever done this, or so much as imagined doing it, it’s so perverse. So, wrong. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what’s attractive about it.

For some reason, his cock jumps when you say you’re not giving him up because he’s dirty.

“And–” You soften your voice, trying to lure him. “You don’t have to use the cross, you know.”

“No.” He barks out, pulling his hips back and pressing the cross against you instead. “Now, keep your legs open.”

He gets right back into it without a second thought. He doesn’t care what he’s doing or what the repercussions of doing this will be. It’s not like he wasn’t going to hell before any of this, not based on the fantasies he’s had anyway.

Jake hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down your legs harshly, to the point that they’re stretching so far that it feels like they could cut through your skin. He backs away for a moment upon seeing you grimace at that, allowing you to slip them down your legs before positioning himself back between them.

“I’m dirty?” He says, looking at your pussy and the way it clenches around absolutely nothing. He sees the slick seeping out of you already, and it’s not only pathetic but so fucking desperate of you. “Fucking look at that.”

You smile at it, knowing that he’s degrading you but absolutely loving the view if his focused eyes are anything to go by.

Before the cross, he experimentally traces his fingers along your folds until he gets to your hole, and without hesitation, he slips one of them in. The grip of your walls alone could probably send him over the edge if he were to make a last-minute change and shove his cock into you, but he holds back. Instead, he traces the cross against you in the same way he did with his fingers, slowly inserting it alongside his digit.

Pulling back, Jake watches your face as the cross opens you up, probably dragging against your walls uncomfortably as a reminder of the ultimate sin you’re committing with him right now.

When your face doesn’t contort into that of pain, he pulls his finger out of you and places his hand back on his cock. Still staring at your face, he fucks the cross in and out of you. Relishing in the sound of how wet you are for this, and for him to give it to you.

He does this until, finally, you moan.

Upon that little whimper of a moan, Jake is sent into a different headspace. One that quickens his pace with the object inside of you, one that tightens the grip on himself.

Now, oh now, he’s playing for fun. He presses it in and then pulls it all the way out just to see your pussy beg for more. Holding back a moan over how fucking hot it is to see, he opts to coo out at you.

“Bet it would feel so good.” He breathes, trying to ignore the shiver that shoots through his body at the way you yearn for it. “Could shove my cock right in, you’d just take it, wouldn’t you?”

Before you can answer, he’s thrusting the relic right back into you. In, out, in, out. Deeper, harder, fucking faster. And he offers the same for himself, tightening his fist, nearly abusing his own cock at the sight of your swollen hole swallow up the wood. Really, he makes a point to fuck himself just to imagine it’s you that’s squeezing him.

If he thinks hard enough, it really is almost like he’s the one fucking you.

He keeps this up for a few minutes, up until your legs are shaking around him and you begin to reach out with your hands. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s incredibly fucking horny right now, he’d probably be rushing for the altar to save you from whatever demon is possessing you.

But, he knows that this is no demon, this is all his own doing. He’s loving it. Every single bit of this situation is being burned into his memory, and when your legs shake, it only urges him to fuck the object into you harder.

You whimper out strings of nonsense, almost begging for a release from this grasp he is holding over you both physically and mentally, but he doesn’t relent. Your pathetic cunt is being pounded by an object that should have you crying in fear, but instead, you’re so close to release you can only beg for more, more, fucking more.

And god, he keeps giving it to you.

In an attempt to open your eyes, you feel dizzy with lust. Your hips buck up against the object with intent, and you can’t stop watching him.

“Goddamn.” Jake stutters a sin, watching you fuck yourself against the holy relic. Thankful to rest his arm and be able to just…watch.

And oh, he’s watching and intensely imagining that it’s you on him. He can’t stop thinking about how fucking warm you must be, how tight, how sinfully delicious your pussy must be for you to be acting like this. And that thought is what forces him to lose it.

You were so focused, on the verge of your orgasm when you feel him practically tear the cross out of you, dropping it to the floor before – oh fuck.

You feel him. Something bigger, something thicker ramming into you. He’s prying you open more than he did previously, already pumping in and out at a frantic speed. Instantly, you cling onto him with a bruising grip, listening to his shameless moans as he realizes the lack of control he has over his own body or thoughts.

Jake practically falls over you in euphoria as you cling, forcing you to fall back against the desk as he relentlessly plunges his hips. His breath is heavy against your neck as he loses himself, and all you can do is thank the same god you just disrespected for this cock that’s abusing your hole in all of the right ways.

“I can’t–” He groans out against your ear, his hips not stopping their relentless assault. “You’re so fucking dirty.” He insults, pushing you up the desk with each thrust. “So good.”

You can barely make a sound from the force behind his hips, only small yelps leaving your throat each time he slams in. And fuck, you want nothing more than to rub your clit right now. You could cum all over him, you could really make him feel good.

And as if your prayers are answered, Jake apparently knows exactly how to pleasure a woman. Hm, curious. He knows how to do it fucking well too, as you feel his fingers rub against the swollen nub in the exact same way you would right now. Painful, intense.

The fact that he wants you to cum is delicious.

Your orgasm hits you almost instantly, pussy sucking in him each time he goes to thrust, and the sounds coming from your throat could be considered demonic by some, but he swallows them up with ease when he notes that you’re cumming all over him.

Jake licks into your mouth, soothing you with dirty words when he pulls back to breathe.

“You should see yourself–” He pants out, sticking his tongue out to lick against your lip. “Getting me all messy too?” He says again through a moan. “You’re beautiful.” He adds like a period at the end of a sentence.

That alone makes you feel…different. In fact, it prolongs your orgasm far past sensitivity when he continues to thrust into you. You can’t tell if he said that because he’s close, or if it’s because he meant it.

Quite frankly, you could give less of a fuck if he meant it.

Jake stutters his hips when you lift your head just slightly, gripping his hair and skewing his head to the side so that you can whisper into his ear.

“Want me to beg for your cum?” You whisper with a shaking voice. “You’d love that too, wouldn’t you? I know I would.”

His eyes squeeze shut as he aggressively turns his head and, once again, pries your mouth open with his tongue. A bruising kiss follows as he fucks his last few thrusts into you, doing just as you implied he should.

He pumps his cum into you relentlessly, thankful that it’s not all over his pants and entirely milked into that sinful cunt of yours. Thankful that you also got off around him instead of that forgotten cross on the floor.

He wants nothing more than to remind you time and time again who got to you first. It was him, not his father.

You smile at him when he pulls back out of breath, examining his pants before stuffing his sensitive cock back into them and reaching down for the cross.

“If you ever fucking tell my dad about this–” He seethes out of breath, trying to pretend that he can regain composure so soon after fucking you the way he just did. Still, he narrows his eyes at you much as he had done before.

“Go on.” You say, voice shaking as you try to grasp back onto reality from whatever world his cock had sent you into.

Jake is at a loss for words, because, what could he possibly do about it if you were to tell? He looks at you, still spread out against the desk, dress crumpled, his cum seeping out of you in a messy show of how much of an absolute whore he forced you to be.

“Just, don’t tell him.” He finally says, averting his eyes from you and looking at the cross in his hand.

“Do you feel bad already?” You ask out, finally lifting to get off of the desk.

“Don’t you?”

You shake your head, struggling to stand as the seething pain of having a wooden cross stuck into you shoots through your body. “Not really.” You try to laugh, but you wince instead.

“Yeah, I figured you’d probably be hurting after all of that.” He finally says in a somewhat apologetic tone, walking up to you with a soothing hand.

You’re a little shocked by his kindness.

“Yeah, a little.” You laugh it off though because, at the moment, it felt good. You wouldn’t have wanted it any other way despite how blasphemous the act was.

“Oh.” Jake seems sorrowful in his tone, but his gaze doesn't leave you. “I- um, I don’t know how to make it like, not hurt?” He scratches the back of his head.

In your attempt to put your dress back on, you do note that the pain inside of you isn’t unfamiliar. You’d been fucked hard before, but that was a long time ago. You missed this feeling, realizing that it was exactly what you think you needed.

“It’ll pass.” You assure him, taking a deep breath and trying to stumble your way to the door. “I guess I’ll see you later, then?”

Jake dips his head with a small nod, feeling guilty for what he’s done. Not because of the cross, not because of the sin, but because he’s unsure of how to pretend like he wouldn’t want to do it again.

#enhypen smut #sim jaeyun smut #jake sim smut #jake smut #enhypen hard hours #enha smut

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fxstpace · 6 days ago

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the budget

summary: mingyu, president of the photography club, and you, leader of the art club, are forced to collaborate when your organisations are granted a shared—and pitifully small—budget for the semester. every meeting turns into a battle: over ideas, over funding, over who cares more about their craft. until you start noticing the way mingyu’s eyes light up when he captures the perfect picture, and his presence in your life leaves you feeling more inspired than irritated.

⇢ pairing: photography student!kim mingyu x art student!fem!reader ⇢ contains: fluff, mild angst, enemies/rivals to lovers au, college au, debatable attempts at comedy, profanity, inaccurate depictions of both art & photography since i am good at neither, raccoons ⇢ word count: 4.8k ⇢ playlist: stardust by zayn; blue by yung kai ⇢ note: for the person who requested this; i hope you enjoy!

There’s a miserable amount of zeroes next to the number printed on the budget distribution sheet that Mingyu hands you. You stare at it, incredulous, then back at him, the paper crumpling slightly under your grip.

“This can’t be right,” you say, voice tight with disbelief and mounting anger. “This is… This is a joke. It has to be.”

Mingyu shifts, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Yeah, well, it’s not. This is all we’ve got for the semester.”

“You’re saying that like it’s okay!” Your eyes snap up to his face. “Like this is something we can work with.”

“I’m not saying it’s okay! But I don’t see what yelling at me is going to solve.”

You scoff, holding up the paper between you both like it’s the evidence of a crime. “This amount isn’t even enough for one club to function, let alone two. And yet you expect us to split it? How is that fair?”

Mingyu clenches his jaw and crosses his arms. He looks bigger, now—more intimidating, sort of. You cross your arms as well, eyebrows knit into a frown. “It’s not fair,” he says. “None of this is. But unless you’re ready to, I don’t know, rob a bank or something, this is what we’ve got to work with.”

“And what?” you snap. “Your solution is just to divide it down the middle and call it a day? You can’t honestly believe that’s fair. Your expenses aren’t nearly as high as ours—”

“Excuse me?” Mingyu cuts in, his voice rising, sharp enough to make you pause. “Do you even know what we need? Do you have any idea how much equipment costs? Or printing? Or—”

“You don’t have an entire exhibition to put together,” you interrupt, your frustration boiling over. “We’ve got installations, workshops, materials—”

“And you think we’re just screwing around, taking selfies? You think what we’re doing doesn’t matter?”

“That’s not what I’m saying!”

“It sure as Hell sounds like it is,” he bites out, glaring at you.

The hallway is silent except for the sound of your breathing. You’re standing close to him, you realise belatedly—too close. Mingyu’s face is flushed, dark brown eyes locked on yours, and for the first time, you notice just how tired he looks. There are faint shadows beneath his eyes, and the line of his shoulders is stiff with what you suddenly recognise as exhaustion, not just irritation. It’s easy enough to spot these signs because you mirror them, too.

It’s always been like this between the art club and the photography club. The rivalry was created during the clubs’ inception, long before you joined your university. You remember the former head—and your senior—telling you about how the former photography club head charmed Dean Park, the head of the art department, into giving them a higher budget, resulting in the art club being unable to hold their annual art exhibition. The year before that, the art club managed to win him over by listing out all the pros and cons of “art in the cultivation of a cultural mindset in students” using a PowerPoint presentation complete with sparkly animations.

It’s always, always about money.

This semester, however, the budget is infinitely worse—chiefly because you have to share it with the photography club. As the current presidents, you and Mingyu must shoulder the burden together, and that’s a lot easier said than done, really. Maybe it’s because you’ve spent all your college years feuding on opposing sides of the art scene, but you and Kim Mingyu haven’t been able to get along.

The fact that the amount Dean Park allotted for you both is abysmally small doesn’t make this entire situation any easier.

You look away, gaze dropping to the crumpled paper in your hands. “I’m not saying your work doesn’t matter,” you say quietly, the fight dissipating from your tone. “I’m just… This whole thing sucks, okay? I’m frustrated, too.”

Mingyu lets out a slow breath, scratching his cheek tiredly. “Yeah,” he mutters. “I know.”

It catches you off-guard, the way his voice lowers—not softening, exactly, but losing some of its earlier bite. When you glance back at him, his shoulders are still tense, his forehead pinched, though not with resignation. It’s more like simmering irritation, held at bay simply because he can’t get angry in the middle of the administrative building’s hallway.

“Look,” he continues when you don’t say anything, “this is what we’ve got. Yelling at each other about it isn’t going to magically double the budget, no matter how much we want it to.”

“I’m not yelling—I’m trying to get you to see reason. If you’d just acknowledge that the art club actually needs—”

“Maybe if you’d stop acting like your club is the only one that matters—”

You hold up a hand, cutting him off before he can get going again. “We’re going in circles,” you say, sighing. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.”

“Right,” Mingyu mutters, stepping back to lean against the wall. He crosses his arms tightly over his chest again, and for a moment, the two of you stand in tense silence, glaring at each other like it’ll somehow fix the problem.

The corridor feels oppressively small, the fluorescent lights casting shadows over his face. You take a slow breath, trying to tamp down the irritation clawing at your chest and push it down to your stomach instead where you can, at least, work around it. “Fine,” you grit out. “We’ll figure something out, but don’t think for a second that I’m going to let the art club get shortchanged because of your supposed equipment costs.”

Mingyu’s lips twitch into something that’s almost a smile but too bitter to qualify. “Of course. Don’t expect me to give up the gallery showcase just so you can buy more paint.”

You press your lips together and bite back your retort. You’re too tired to keep this up, and it’s clear that he’s just as stubborn as you are.

Instead, you turn on your heel, the budget sheet still clutched tightly in your hand. “Next meeting,” you call over your shoulder, “come with actual numbers. Maybe then we’ll actually get somewhere.”

“Sure,” Mingyu says flatly, though when you glance back, he’s still watching you, expression unreadable.

“Just combine both your events,” Jiyeon—Dean Park’s student representative—says curtly, like she’s trying to wrap up a tedious chore. She taps her manicured nails on the desk impatiently. “That was the reason why we announced the budget earlier this semester compared to last time.”

You blink at her. Combine? As in merge the art club’s carefully curated exhibition with Mingyu’s glossy photography showcase?

“That’s not happening,” you say, sharper than you intended. “These are completely different events. We’d lose the point of both if we mashed them together.”

Mingyu, seated across from you, leans back in his chair, arms crossed. “For once, we agree on something.”

Jiyeon exhales, clearly unimpressed with your united front. “Neither of you have the budget to do these separately. You’re either combining or presenting Dean Park with a shared cancellation notice. Your choice.”

Her words sink into your brain, leaving no room for argument. The table between you and Mingyu feels like a battlefield, and you’re not sure if you want to continue glaring daggers at him or redirect your frustration towards Jiyeon.

“This is ridiculous,” Mingyu says, dragging a hand through his hair. “You can’t just lump two completely different creative visions together. A photography showcase is about cohesion. You don’t just slap a bunch of things together and call it cohesive.”

You bristle. “And what, you think an art exhibition is just some chaotic mess of colour and whimsy? There’s intention behind every piece. We’re not staging this in a dorm hallway; it’s a professional-level gallery. My members have been working on this for months.”

“And so have mine,” he snaps back. “This showcase isn’t just about displaying photos. It’s about showing people what photography is capable of. Combining that with whatever you’re doing? It’s going to dilute both.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have spent your entire summer hyping up an event you clearly couldn’t afford,” you say, unable to help yourself.

His eyes narrow. “It’s not like I knew—”

“Enough,” Jiyeon cuts in, her voice slicing clean through your argument. She stands, gathering her papers and closing her laptop briskly. It’s clear she’s done with the conversation. “You two have until next week to draft a combined proposal. If I don’t have something workable on my desk by then, I’ll assume you’re forfeiting your budget entirely. Good luck.”

With that, she walks out, the door shutting behind her with a firm click that echoes in the suddenly quiet room.

“This is such bullshit,” Mingyu mutters after a pause.

You glance at him, agreement on the tip of your tongue, but the irritation on his face sparks something petty in you instead. “You seem confident for someone whose entire event hinges on this bullshit.”

He glares at you and for a moment, you think he’s going to bite back. But he sighs and leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Since we’re stuck with this,” he says grudgingly, “we might as well figure something out.”

“You mean like a theme? Something broad enough to tie everything together?”

“Sure,” Mingyu says. “What do you suggest? Rainbows and friendship?”

“Don’t be an asshole,” you snap.

“I’m serious. If you’ve got a brilliant idea, then let’s hear it.”

You take a deep breath, your mind running through various possible ideas. Something broad, something versatile. But every idea either feels too generic, or too forced, and Mingyu’s expectant stare doesn’t help.

“What about… perspectives?” you finally say, hesitant.

He frowns. “Perspectives?”

“Yeah,” you say, gaining a little confidence. “Different ways of seeing the same thing. Photography is about capturing moments from unique angles, and art is about interpreting the world in your own way. It’s broad, but it connects.”

Mingyu leans back in his chair, brows furrowed in thought. He admits, slowly, “It’s… not bad.”

The faint approval in his voice surprises you, but you don’t let it show. “I know,” you say instead, crossing your ankles. “It’s a good starting point.”

“But it’s still vague,” he muses. “If we’re going to pitch this, we need to make it concrete. How are we actually going to combine everything? Are we splitting the space? Alternating pieces? Blending them somehow?”

Your stomach twists at the thought of compromising the layout, but you push the discomfort down. “We could structure it around the theme. Pair photos and artworks that complement each other—contrast them, even. It could be a dialogue between the two mediums.”

Mingyu’s eyes narrow slightly, like he’s contemplating. He nods, once, reluctantly. “It could work.”

“Okay,” you say. “Then we’ll need to draft a detailed proposal—layout, schedule, costs. Dean Park isn’t going to approve of something half-baked.”

“Obviously.”

You glare at him, but there’s no real heat behind it. “We’ll have to inform our members as soon as possible.”

“Done. I’ll text you, ‘kay?”

You hum in response, watching him gather his things. It’s not exactly a truce, and it’s definitely not teamwork—not yet, at least. But for the first time, you feel like both of you are pushing against the same problem, rather than each other.

“See you around, I guess,” you say tentatively, reaching for your bag.

Mingyu slings his camera bag over his shoulder and lets his lips curve upwards by the slightest. “See you.”

When Kim Mingyu said he would text you, you expected him to send you a message some time during the day, like a normal person would. Of course, the mistake you made was assuming that anything Kim Mingyu does is normal, so, really, why are you even surprised?

You don’t know for sure, but you’re certain it has everything to do with the fact that you were startled out of sleep minutes ago because of the incessant ringing of your phone, a week after your proposal was approved by Dean Park. The caller ID says Kim Mingyu (Photography President) and the time on your phone screen reads 1:01 A.M.

Someday, you will find a way to strangle him and get away with it.

You squint at your phone, half-tempted to let it ring out, but you know he’s stubborn enough to keep calling until your phone dies. You swipe to answer with more force than necessary.

“What?” you snap, voice rough with sleep.

“Get dressed,” he says, sounding way more chipper than anyone in their right mind would at one in the morning. “I’m outside.”

You sit up in bed, your blankets falling into a heap around you. “Outside where?”

“Your building.”

There’s a pause while you blink, trying to process his words. “My what?”

“Look, there’s no time to argue,” he says, as if he’s not the one calling you at an ungodly hour. “I need to show you something. It’s about the exhibition. Plus, I have hot chocolate.”

“Couldn’t this have waited until daylight?” you ask—but curiosity, and the mention of free hot chocolate, gets the better of you. You rub the sleep out of your eyes and slide out of bed.

“Nope, it’s time-sensitive,” says Mingyu, while you’re busy shoving your head through the nearest hoodie you could find.

When you step outside, the cool night air pricks at your skin, and you spot him almost instantly. Mingyu is leaning against the lamppost by the entrance to your building, a steaming styrofoam cup in each hand and his camera slung around his neck. His tall frame and disheveled hair, illuminated by the soft glow of the light, would almost make him look charming—were you not keen on murdering him for disrupting your sleep.

“What took you so long?” he says, holding out one of the cups as you approach.

“You’re insane,” you reply, snatching the cup from him. The warmth seeps into your fingers, and despite your irritation, you take a grateful sip. It’s sweet, just the way you like it. “This better be worth it.”

“It will be,” he promises, already turning towards the path the winds through your campus.

The night air is cool and crisp, laced with the faint scent of damp earth and fallen leaves. You clutch the cup of hot chocolate like it’s a lifeline, savouring its warmth, though it does little to thaw your irritation. Mingyu walks ahead of you, long strides confident; you trail behind him, muttering under your breath about insufferable photography club presidents and their questionable priorities.

The campus feels different at night—quieter, softer—as if the world has taken a deep breath and is holding it. Shadows stretch long and wide under the sporadic lampposts, and the buildings loom taller, their windows dark. The only sounds are the soft crunch of gravel underfoot. You don’t want to admit it, but there’s something peaceful about this moment, despite your company.

“Here,” Mingyu says suddenly, veering off the path toward a patch of bushes near the edge of the quad.

You hesitate, watching as he crouches low. His movements are surprisingly careful for someone normally so clumsy. He motions for you to follow, his fingers pressed to his lips in a gesture for silence.

“What are you—”

“Shh,” he whispers, pointing ahead.

At first, you don’t see anything. But as you squint, you catch a movement—a small shape darting across the grass. And then another.

A family of raccoons.

There are four of them, their sleek bodies silver in the moonlight. The largest one—presumably the mother—nudges a smaller one forward, while the other two rummage through a pile of leaves nearby.

You crouch next to Mingyu, your knees pressing into the damp grass, and watch the raccoon family scurry about under the pale silver glow of the moon. The mother raccoon joins her two kits and noses through the leaves, while the smallest one tumbles clumsily after her, clearly still learning the ways of the world.

“They’re cute,” you whisper.

“Hm,” Mingyu hums, lifting his camera to his eye. The soft click of the shutter sounds through the quiet. “I’ve been tracking them for weeks. This seems to be their favourite hideout for the night.”

You glance at him sideways, watching the way his brows furrow in concentration, the way he adjusts the angle ever-so slightly before clicking another picture. He’s good at this, you think—finding something ordinary and turning it into something else.

“You dragged me out of bed for raccoons?” you ask, without any real malice in your voice.

“They’re more interesting than you give them credit for,” he says, not looking up from his viewfinder. “Most people don’t even notice them. And if they do, it’s just to call them pests.”

The soft, almost wistful tone of his voice surprises you. You shift your gaze back to the raccoons, watching as one of the smaller ones climbs onto a low branch, wobbling slightly before regaining its balance.

“They’re just trying to survive,” Mingyu continues, lowering his camera. “Finding food, looking after their family. They’re not pests. They’re— Resourceful. Resilient.”

You blink, caught off guard by the thoughtfulness in his words. “And this connects to the exhibition how?”

He smiles slightly, finally turning to look at you. “Think about it. How many things go unnoticed every day? How many stories don’t get told ‘cause people are too busy looking at what’s shiny and obvious?”

You frown, considering his words. The raccoon mother pulls out a discarded chocolate wrapper from the leaves, sniffing it before passing it to one of her kits. It’s nothing extraordinary, but there is something undeniably tender about the way she moves, the quiet care in her actions.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about our exhibition theme,” says Mingyu, “and—”

“It’s a matter of perspective,” you finish softly, the words slipping out before you can contain them.

Mingyu nods. “Exactly. Everyone’s always so focused on the big picture that they forget the small details. The stuff that seems insignificant but isn’t.” He gestures towards the raccoons. “This is the kind of thing I want to highlight—the unnoticed, the overlooked. The beauty in things people usually ignore.”

He has a point. The raccoons, with their clever little hands and determined movements, have a strange sort of grace to them. You wonder how many times you’ve walked past this very spot without noticing them, without realising there was a whole world quietly unfolding in the shadows.

“You think we can tie this to the exhibition?” you ask, your skepticism only half-hearted now.

“Why not?” he replies, enthusiasm bleeding into his tone. “Your art pieces are all about interpretation, right? How people see the world in their own way. And photography is about showing people something they didn't notice before. It fits.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, annoyed by how much sense he’s making. Grudgingly, you mutter, “You’re not as stupid as you look.”

Mingyu laughs softly, the sound low and warm in the night air. “Thanks, I think.”

You both fall silent again, watching as the raccoons scurry off to another tree nearby. Mingyu raises his camera one last time, snapping a shot of their retreating forms before lowering his camera with a small, satisfied sigh.

“They’ll be gone by morning,” he says, almost to himself, “and no one will know they were here.”

There’s something oddly poetic about the thought, and you’re struck by the realisation that, for all his infuriating habits, Kim Mingyu has an eye for seeing things differently. Maybe that’s why he’s so good at what he does—and, maybe, that’s why you think he’s not so different from you, after all.

The walk back to your building is quiet. Mingyu keeps his camera slung over his shoulder. You sip the last of your hot chocolate. Lukewarm as it is, it’s sweet and nice and provides a shred of warmth against the cool air nipping at your cheeks.

“Don’t get used to this,” you say, as the two of you near your building.

Mingyu blinks innocently. “Used to what?”

“Me being nice to you.”

He grins, a boyish, lopsided thing that makes your heart rabbit about, just a little. “Noted. I’ll savour it while it lasts.”

You pull out your sketchbook and your charcoal pencils the next day, after classes, and settle down on a bench that offers a clear view of the quad. The winter sun is a gentle wash of gold, spilling over the campus like honey, pooling in the dips of the cobblestones, and casting long, soft-edged shadows. It’s a contrast to the silvery quiet of last night, but somehow, the same tranquility lingers, a memory etched into the air.

The spot where the raccoons had been feels empty now, but not barren. Students drift through the quad in loose clusters. A girl sprawls on the grass with a textbook splayed open beside her. Two boys toss a frisbee near the far end, their laughter bright and contagious. Someone sits cross-legged under a tree, earbuds in, bobbing their head to music only they can hear.

Your pencil touches the paper, instinctive. Lines emerge, at first hesitant and light, but quickly growing in confidence. You sketch the arch of the bushes, the curve of their leaves. The grass flows beneath your hand, strokes that whisper of its softness, of its endless spread.

The students begin to take form next, their figures caught mid-motion—an outstretched hand here, a tilted head there. You don’t draw their faces; they’re not meant to be individuals, but simply a part of the quad in daylight.

You don’t think about composition or technique; your hand moves as though it has a will of its own, tracing shapes and shadows. For the first time in what feels like forever, there’s no pressure, no self-imposed critique weighing you down. The sunlight dapples the page, shifting as the leaves above you sway in the breeze. Your strokes grow bolder, the charcoal smudging against your fingertips as you shade in the deeper shadows, the play of the light on the cobblestones.

You pause, leaning back slightly, your eyes flicking between the quad and your sketch. It’s not perfect—nothing ever is—but it feels right.

Then, out of nowhere, you think of Mingyu.

It’s a small thought at first, barely noticeable—a stray memory of him crouched low in the grass last night, his camera poised. But it grows, and before you realise what’s happening, you’re imagining what he’d think of the sketch. Would he point out the uneven shading, the hasty lines where you’d been too impatient to linger? Or would he see what you see?

You close the sketchbook. The thought of showing it to him surprises you, an idea you’re not sure you understand. You’re not friends—not really—and the very idea of seeking his approval feels strange.

But you’ll trust your instincts, you suppose. They haven’t led you astray so far. You tuck your sketchbook under your arm and set out to find Kim Mingyu.

You find Kim Mingyu in the photography clubroom, hunched over a cluttered table, sorting through a stack of pictures. The room smells faintly of ink and chemicals, the soft hum of a printer filling the silence. The light streaming through the windows bathes everything in warm, golden hues, catching on the strands of his hair every time he shifts.

For some inexplicable reason, you feel shy.

You linger by the doorway for a moment, fingers tightening around the edges of your sketchbook. It’s ridiculous, really—he’s the same infuriating person who called you at one in the morning and dragged you across campus to look at raccoons. But now, with the sketchbook in your hands and a strange weight in your chest, the thought of stepping into the room feels monumental.

You clear your throat, and he glances up. His hair is slightly messy, like he’s been running his hands through it in frustration, and the sleeves of his hoodie are pushed up to his elbows. For a split second, he looks surprised to see you. Then his expression shifts into something closer to curiosity.

“Hi,” he says, holding out a photograph like it’s a peace offering. “Are you lost? Or are you here to chew me out over something about the exhibition?”

You roll your eyes, stepping further into the room. “Neither. I wanted to—” You hesitate, the words tangling on your tongue. His gaze flickers to the sketchbook under your arm. Thankfully, he doesn’t push.

“Come in,” he says instead. “Since you’re here anyway—” he gestures toward the stack of pictures— “help me decide. I’m narrowing down shots for the exhibition.”

You step closer, drawn despite yourself. The photographs are stunning—a leaf caught mid-fall, a cluster of streetlights glowing through the fog, the silhouette of a child through a bus window.

“They’re good,” you say, and you mean it.

“Just good?” he teases, leaning against the table. But there’s something gentler in his expression now, a quiet kind of pride that softens the edges of his grin. “Coming from you, that’s basically a standing ovation.”

You glance away, suddenly self-conscious. Your fingers tighten around the sketchbook again, and before you can overthink it, you thrust it at him. “Here.”

Mingyu blinks. “What’s this?”

“Just—look at it,” you mumble, heat rising to your cheeks.

He takes the sketchbook carefully and flips it open to the page you’d drawn earlier. His eyes trace the lines etched into the paper with charcoal, widening slightly.

“It’s the quad,” he murmurs, quieter than you expected.

“Obviously.”

“No, I mean—” Mingyu looks up at you, and there’s something thoughtful in his gaze. “It’s the quad, but it—it feels… alive, you know?”

You suck in a breath sharply, eyes darting to him. “Alive?”

“Yeah.” He gestures at the sketch, fingers hovering just above the page. “Like here,” he says, pointing to a student mid-step, laughing at something the person next to them says. “And this.” He moves his finger and circles the pair of boys tossing a frisbee about. “I can actually imagine it happening. In real time. Does that make sense?”

The way Mingyu looks at your hastily-drawn sketch—as though it’s something extraordinary—makes your chest feel tight, like you’re holding your breath without even realising.

“I don’t know how you did this,” he continues, almost to himself, eyes roving over the page like he’s trying to decode a secret. “It’s not just the quad—it’s everything about it. It’s like you froze something no one else would notice.” The corners of his mouth lift in a small, disarming smile. “It’s kind of amazing.”

Your mind scrambles for something to say. “It’s… not that big of a deal,” you say lamely. “Just a sketch.”

“Not to me.”

Your eyes settle on the stack of photographs on the table, anything to distract yourself from the heat crawling up your neck. “So, um, what does this mean for the exhibition?”

“Everything,” he says simply—knowingly, almost. Mingyu flips the sketchbook shut and hands it back to you.

You hug the sketchbook to your chest. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” says Mingyu. “You’re really talented, you know that? Not just technically. You see things—details most people miss. That’s really rare.”

You see them, too, you want to say. Because he does. You’ve witnessed it firsthand, and your sketch feels like a paltry attempt at recreating the same thing. Mingyu’s compliment sends a strange ripple through you—half pride, half unease. It’s not that you haven’t been praised for your work before, but coming from him, it feels… different.

“I just drew what I saw.”

“Yeah, but you saw it,” Mingyu presses. “Not everyone would.”

The sincerity in his tone makes your heart stutter. You glance at him, unsure of what to say, and find him watching you with an expression that’s entirely too open. You’re not sure when the shift happened, but you feel it—a softening, an ease you hadn’t expected to find with him.

The confusion in your chest settles into something quieter, something that almost makes sense.

Maybe you don’t dislike Kim Mingyu. Maybe you never disliked him at all.

There is something to be said about having a crush on the person you thought you would never get along with.

It creeps in during moments you don’t realise are important until later. You find yourself seeking him out more often, not because the exhibition needs it—it’s practically done—but because you enjoy being in his presence. The barbs you once threw at each other have become something like banter; his toothy grin makes your heart flutter in your chest. You don’t know when it started, but it’s there now, a quiet and persistent little thing that is difficult to ignore.

The day of the exhibition dawns quicker than you expect, and ends just as quickly.

Kim Mingyu kisses you at the end of it, when the lights are dim and the skies are tinged with twilight. His lips are featherlight at first, and his hands cradle your face. He is soft, warm, and your fingers find their way to the collar of his shirt, gripping tightly.

There is much to be said about having a crush on the person you thought you would never get along with. The most important is this: it’s simply a matter of perspective.

⇢ a/n: thank you thank you thank you to @etherealyoungk for helping me out with all the design/art aspects of this fic & essentially brainstorming this entire thing with me; skye lifesaver fr (the theme behind combining the art and photography club events was all her idea). thanks for reading & i hope you have a wonderful day!

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jynxpsiche · 11 days ago

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no me mires con esos ojos

kang dae ho (player 388) x fem!reader

🎐. summary: you didn't know that the opportunity offered to you by that strange man in the subway was going to be a dead game, but mostly you didn't know that even in a scaring place like this it was easy to catch some feelings.

🎐. warnings: doesn’t precisely follow season 2, maybe some spoilers, female reader,swearing, typical squid game gore & violence, minor character death, slight angst, slight suggestive (??), romance & fluff. English isn’t my first language!

Your sensibility and your kind heart led you to where you were right now. An unknown place with hundreds of unknown and untrustful people.

Your sick mother was the only one left to you and you weren't ready to give up on her too. You had to fight for her and to find money in order to pay for her treatment. Then how did you end up with a debt as huge as yours?

You had always been the most appreciated daughter among the other two siblings you had. Everytime someone asked your mother how did you treat her, she always replied with the most utter honesty. "She's so nice and always worried about me, even though she should go out and enjoy her youth".

Yeah. Your youth. You were only 22 years old and already with an immense debt on your shoulders. It wasn't fair. Life wasn't fair. You also wanted to go out with your friends, laugh with them, joke around and maybe experience love. But you couldn't. You had to drop out of college because of your mother’s illness and you were the only one to care enough about her.

Your other siblings just didn't care. They had followed their path and never looked back, not even when you and your mom needed the most. Now you were alone, working your ass off trying to repay your debt and still finding the adeguate cures for the illness.

Hoewever, your life took a different turn when you had met that strange salesman in that damn subway. You were waiting for train after a draining day at your job when this guy, probably not much older than you, dressed in a grey and seemed-rather-expensive suit approached you with his black silvercase.

"Ma'am, would you like to play a game with me?" That is what he said to you in a calm and polite tone. But why a game?

It's after a round at ddakiji, which was won by you, that you decided to stop there, just because you weren't a gambler and you didn't find entertainment in that.

You noticed how he wore, even if for a second, a surprised expression, but then immediately regained his confident facade. He simply smiled at you and handed you a business card with some strange simbols on a side and a phone number on the other.

That night when you returned home you found yourself sitting on the sofa, staring intently at the card. Which was the right thing to do? That man told you that by playing some games you would have been able to repay your debt and to help your sick parent. But what if it was a scam? You were in no position to fall for one, not with all the burden you were already carrying.

The flame of your lighter was extremely close to the card, ready to burn it, but you stopped yourself at the sound of your parent's coughing. Faint laments and sound of sheets came from the other room and that was the moment you realized for what you were fighting for.

And that's how you where there, in an unfamiliar room with not-so-trusting people and a negative vibe lingering in the air.

'Til that moment you had been on your own, away from the others players and not engaging in any conversation. Obviously you weren't the only one in that state, but you surely seemed to be the youngest there and that already worried you off.

When everybody gathered confused in the main space of the room a group of pink guards wearing a mask with some symbols entered the room and explained the rules of the game.

The prize money would have risen for every passed game. The total being 45.6 billion wons.

That statement flamed everybody’s spirit and the guards led everyobody out to play the first game.

You were escorted in a huge and long room that resembled a field and at the very end, facing the players, there was a strange doll. "The first game is Red Light, Green Light" a feminine voice explained through the speakers "You need to cross the field without being spotted moving by the doll. If you move or the time finishes you're eliminated".

The game appeared to be easy enough, it was one of those games the kids used to play during recess but your guts where telling you that something was off. It couldn't be this easy.

You closely analyzed the other players, observing how they all had printed on their face a confident expression. All except for one.

A middle aged man, probably in his fifties, but by the look on his face he looked older and so tired, like he went through hell. The hard look in his eyes was distant, lost in the space in front of him. Not so positive thoughts behind those eyes. He seems to know what was going on there, like what to expect from a place like this.

456. That was the number on his jacket. You memorized it, just in case.

Then the game started. Cautiously but quickly you stepped forward, keeping your sight focused on the robot girl. The others started moving too but then the childish girl’s song stopped and you all froze on the spot.

No one dared to move and all the field was enveloped by a sinister silence.

Just a second later, a girl a couple of steps ahead of you moved distressed because of a bee. “Oh shit, I moved!” she said in a laughing tone and then she was shot in her chest, falling on the ground. Blood started pooling around her.

It was at that moment that everything went down hill. Players at the sight of blood and of the dead corpse started screaming and running back, begging to leave.

You heard shots all around you, sending waves of fear in you.

Your vision was starting to blurry, the tears on the verge of escaping your eyes, your hands were trembling slightly and all your anxiety was pressing against your stomach.

You stood still but you were so close to break down.

Then all the shooting sounds stopped, the silence back.

It was broken by that irritating song, the robot girl turned back in her original position.

However, no one dared to move from their position. Only one man moved quickly, reaching the front of the group.

The song ended again and the giant girl turned back towards us. Her eyes scanning everybody.

“THE ROBOT’S EYES CAN DETECT YOUR MOVEMENTS! IF YOU MOVE YOU’RE OUT! He suddenly yelled, keeping his mouth covered. He was player 456. “IT CAN’T DETECT THE MOVEMENT BEHIND SOMETHING!” He continued, showing us his moving hand behind his back. Nothing happened to him, he was still alive.

“SO FORM A LINE BEHIND WHO’S TALLER THAN YOU AND CONTINUE WALKING!” And in an instant, everybody followed his orders, too eager to survive this nightmare.

I ended up behind a tall woman, the number 120 on her back. “From now on I’ll stay behind you” you whispered to her to make your presence known. She didn’t answer but she understood.

While slowly walking forward and keeping an eye on the timer, you managed to reach the safe zone. Only there shaky breath left your lips.

Those who survived were then escorted back to the dorm room and there you spotted the tall woman who gave you shield before.

“Excuse me…” she somehow heard your whispered words and focused her attention on you “I-I wanted to thank you for letting me stay behind you during the game” you thanked her while bowing your head as a sign of gratitude.

Her gentle hand softly patted your shoulder, a small smile on her face “There’s no need”. That was all she said before departing from you.

Only then the guards entered the room again and everybody started begging to go home after what they witnessed. The square-masked guard explained that the could sent us home since we signed the terms & conditions and agreed to stay there and take part in the games.

The situation definitely wasn’t in your favor when again player 456’s voice echoed through the whole room, silencing everyone. “Clause 3 says that we can leave the place only by voting and if the majority decides so. Let us vote.” His voice was firm and his eyes serious and cold, fixated on the guard on the front.

The square-masked guard slowly nodded. “You’re right and your comfort is our main priority. But first let me announce the total you’ve made after the first game.”

A giant piggy bank was lowered from the top center of the room, then filled only in part with money. Everyone was mesmerized at that sight. “Since 91 people were eliminated, you all have accumulated 9.1 billion won”.

Low whispers started rising among the others, not so sure to leave after they’d seen the sum of money. “Now let’s begin with the vote”.

The first to be called up to vote was player 456 who confidently pressed X and went to stand on that side of the room. Right after him there were you, since your number was right after his.

Without a doubt you also pressed X and went near the man, who smiled at you in gratitude. He said to have already played these games before and that it didn’t end well last time. Strangely you trusted him. But you also weren’t ready to die. Not like that.

Unfortunately the O prevailed, so it meant that you had to play another game.

After that moment you a ticked with player 456, who’s name you later discovered to be Seong Gi-hun, and he took you under his wing. He was so nice and acted so fatherly towards you.

Also player 390, who was Gi-hub’s best friend, and then player 001 joined your group.

You felt relieved to have found some allies in this crazy place, people to rely on and that had your back, just like you had theirs.

At 30 minutes before lights off you whispered to Gi-hun that you would have gone quickly to the bathroom. He flashed you a worried expression but you reassured him with a gentle smile.

You stood up and went near the small pink door in the room to ask someome's permission to dismiss yourself.

[ જ⁀➴ ]

It was only a matter of minutes before the lights were turned off for the night but somehow you weren’t too worried about that, maybe because you found some nice people who you could trust.

Despite not being too sure about it, you were fine with it.

After coming back from the bathroom you spotted player 120 by herself, her face concentrated and her brows furrowed in thoughts.

Quietly you approached her stiffed figure and then cleared your throat to make your presence known to her.

Her confused gaze spotted you and when she recognized you she flashed a small smile.

“Something bothering you?” She shook her head lightly, even if her gesture wasn’t so convincing “Just…this whole situation is…absurd. I would have never thought in my whole life to fight to survive in some stupid children games” you clearly caught the distress in her tone.

“I know I should be the last person to say this but you got this, you’re brave and after the stunt you pulled before in the game I think you can pass every other game” your sweet and caring words seemed to have calmed her down a bit, who smiled at you and briefly hugged your side.

What you didn’t notice, however, was a set of eyes observing you from the distance. Kang Dae-ho knew you were part of the team he latter joined but he hadn’t met you yet.

From observing you he thought you were really pretty and kind.

A small blush crept on his cheeks at his own thoughts.

Jung-bae immediately noticed this and nudged him with his shoulder, startling the young man. “Brother Jung-bae! You scared me! Never do that again!” The old former marine simply snickered at his words and then took the spot next to him on the stairs.

“I noticed that look on your face” he commented “and I also understood who you were looking at” his tone became a bit playful and poked slightly Dae-ho in his ribs.

The blush on Dae-ho’s cheeks became more prominent and he tried to hide it but failed miserably because Jung-bae snickered louder.

“J-just shut up, it’s not what you think!” The young man tried to say, pushing the older man’s face away while hiding his face with his other hand.

Jung-bae shook his head amused and then gently patted the guy on his shoulder.

“If you feel something, you should just tell her. You’ll never know when you’ll have the opportunity”.

It was at that moment that time stopped, every sound around him muffled and every figure blurred out, only her was in his view.

Her gracious and warm figure.

Then the lights turned off, only the golden light from the piggy bank and the symbols on the ground emanated some light.

He was still grounded in his spot, didn’t move an inch.

Only a soft tap on his shoulder awoke him dreaming state. Quickly he lifted his gaze and locked his eyes with yours. The girl from before.

You were looking at him with those enchanting and marvelous eyes, so bright and curious. He would have gladly lost himself in them.

‘Oh please don’t look at me with those eyes’

The ex marine’s heart was beating so hard that he was sure he could have had an heart attack. No saliva in his mouth, his tongue so mushy, surely not able to utter out a vowel.

But you were still standing in front of him, waiting for any type of reaction from the guy, simply poked at you like you had grown three heads.

Now worry was starting to creep in when he still didn’t show any responsive sign.

Concerned you crouched down to his level and gently placed your hands on his shoulder, facing him fully and devoting all your attention to him.

At the contact a delicious shiver went down his spine, making him sight out a shaky breath.

“Hey are you okay?” Your voice up close resembled angels’ chorus and for a moment he felt in heaven, cocooned in a warm embrace and protected from outside’s dangers.

And those eyes…they were making him go crazy. Those doe eyes looked up at him all prettily and anxiously, really worried about his well being. He couldn’t have asked for more.

If that was a dream, he didn’t want to wake up ever again.

“Please…don’t look at me with those eyes” unconsciously he breathed out those words in a loving and needy way that he himself woke up from his daydreaming state.

He slapped his hand on his mouth, wide eyes staring scared at the girl in front of him.

His face so red that he thought he would have gone on fire any seconds now.

He had made himself look like a fool in your eyes.

Shame and awkwardness lingered in the room. No one uttered out a words as you both only stared at each other, you taken back by his reaction and him ashamed of the stunt pulled previously.

You were opening your mouth to say something, anything to lighten up the situation, but in a second he run off to his bunk bed, not so far from yours.

An amused chuckle left your lips, a faint blush on your cheeks.

“What an interesting guy…”

#kang dae ho #squid game #squid game 2 #player 388 #dae ho x reader #dae ho #dae ho squid game #kang dae ho x reader #kang daeho #kang daeho x reader #player 388 x reader #kang no eul #the salesman #player 001 #front man #gi hun #thanos #kang ha neul #kang ha neul x reader

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crdteezv · 3 months ago

Text

Scream - Haechan

Paring: !perv!ghostface!haechan x f! reader (ft. jaemin)

Genre: college au, halloween, smut

Synopsis: Haechan has always been watching, his obsession with you deepening into something possessive and consuming. He's jealous of Jaemin and frustrated that, despite his toxic behavior, you’re still drawn to him. Haechan is set on having you all to himself, and your Halloween party was his best shot...

Warnings: smut. perv/hard dom! haechan, the reader in a situationship with jaemin (he is kind of toxic…), haechan and jaemin are roommates, cheating (depending on how you see it…), non to dub-con, stalker/yandere subthemes, possessive, degradation/praise, rough sex, cumplay (nothing too crazy), knife play(no blood involved), mask kink (but he takes off later on), slight somno, dacryphilia, sadism/masochism, rope play, choking, dirty talk, teasing, kissing, oral (giving), fingering/finger sucking, manhandling, size difference, overstimulation, unprotected sex

Word Count: 11.4k words (officially my longest fic…)

A/n: Since Halloween is today, I wanted to make something a little special for Haechan. I want to clarify that I do love Jaemin; I only made him toxic for the sake of the plot😭. Fair warning this is pretty dark so if you don’t like it, don’t read it. I DON’T CONDONE ANY OF THE ACTS DONE IN THIS FIC.

Haechan was obsessed with you the moment he laid his eyes on you. At first, it was a simple infatuation; he liked to admire you from afar. He always thought you were very pretty and would often stare at you in history class. You obviously didn’t know each other, and he would sit far in the back.

He was starting to shake off his little crush until he noticed that his roommate Jaemin showed an interest in you. Haechan was never really the jealous type, but seeing the way you looked at Jaemin drove him insane. It didn't help that Jaemin always talked about you to him, forcing Haechan to act like he cared.

In reality, he wanted to kill Jaemin simply for being with you.

Haechan tried multiple times during class to approach you and start a conversation, but you always left too quickly or were too busy talking to your friends. So, he took a more subtle approach, leaving notes in your bag when you weren’t looking. At first, they were harmless compliments about how pretty you looked and how he liked your style.

But soon, it escalated.

He began detailing what he would do to you once he had his hands on you and how he would care for you. One time, he noticed you reading those notes in class after you returned from the bathroom and sat down in your seat. The way you squirmed and pressed your thighs together made him instantly hard.

The thought of how much he was affecting you drove him wild.

But in your mind, you thought it was Jaemin leaving these notes. He always drives you to school, and you figured he snuck the notes into your bag every time he drops you off. You planned to ask him about it, but when you did, he told you he wasn’t the one behind the notes.

“Wait, what?” you asked, surprised.

“Yeah, it’s not me. I’m flattered you think I’m that much of a romantic, but I’m not shy about my feelings for you and I wouldn’t need to write them on some post-it note,” he chuckled.

You felt flustered and taken aback by his comment, but now you were confused about who wrote the notes.

“Then if it’s not you, then who is it?”

“I don’t know. Looks like you’ve got a secret admirer,” he said playfully.

“Oh, shut up,” you replied, laughing.

“It’s too bad, though. The poor guy doesn’t stand a chance since you’re mine.”

He was always smooth with his words, and you fell for them every single time. Meanwhile, Haechan was hiding nearby, hearing the entire conversation. He wanted to go over and punch Jaemin for making fun of his crush on you, but he held himself back.

As time passed, you and Jaemin grew closer, sometimes hanging out in his dorm. He often mentioned his roommate Haechan, describing him as quiet and reserved. Although Jaemin was friendly, he sometimes sensed that Haechan didn’t like him, and he couldn't understand why.

One night, you planned to spend the night with Jaemin. You wore a loose crop top that exposed your shoulders and short shorts that highlighted your thighs and curves. Stepping out of his room for a moment to grab snacks for your movie night, you felt comfortable navigating the space.

As you walked into the kitchen, you noticed Haechan cooking food for himself. This was the first time you had seen him up close; he wore a black hoodie pulled over his head and joggers. You gave him a slight smile and introduced yourself, but he couldn’t meet your gaze, distracted by the way your shirt clung to your figure and how well your shorts accentuated your curves.

“So, what’s your name?” you asked.

He snapped back to reality at your question. “Oh, I-I’m Haechan.”

Leaning closer, you studied his features, as if he looked familiar. “Wait, you’re in my history class, right?”

He was shocked that you even noticed him, considering he sat in the back. “Um, yeah. How did you know?” He chuckled awkwardly.

“I remember you presenting your project with my friend Mark.”

“Oh yeah! He and I are pretty good friends. I wanted to live in a dorm with him this semester, but it didn’t work out, unfortunately.”

“Bummer! At least you have Jaemin; he’s pretty great right?”

Haechan felt a surge of anger at how highly you spoke of Jaemin, but he masked it well. “Yeah, he’s cool. We usually just stay in our rooms and keep to ourselves. Anyway, are you looking for something?”

You were so focused on your conversation that you nearly forgot what you came for. “Ah, that’s right! Thanks for reminding me. I was looking for snacks for me and Jaemin and wondered if you could tell me where they are.”

“Uh, check the lower cabinet down there; if not, maybe try the top shelf over there,” he replied.

You bent down to check the lower cabinets, unknowingly putting your ass on display for Haechan. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, cursing under his breath as he began to feel aroused. Realizing the position you were in, you stood up straight.

“Oh, I’m sorry for bending down like that. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. Also, I don’t see any snacks down there, so I’m going to check the top shelf,” you said.

Haechan found it adorable how flustered you were, and it only made him like you more.

“Ah, it’s okay. Are you sure you can reach it though? He puts them up pretty high.”

“Ah, I’ll be fine.”

You made your way over to the counter next to him and reached up for the bag of chips, still having to get on your tiptoes. He noticed your crop top ride up slightly, revealing a hint of your underboob.

He was starting to lose his mind.

Thoughts raced through his mind—what if you were doing this on purpose? Maybe you were just teasing him. Or maybe it was all in his head, and he was just being a pervert.

But he couldn’t keep watching you struggle like this, so he stopped what he was doing for a moment, got behind you, and grabbed the chips without fail. Your backside pressed against him, and he felt your warmth, sending shivers down your spine.

You also felt something…hard?

He pulled the bag of chips away and gave you a smirk. Embarrassed, you couldn’t meet his gaze.

This was such a boost to his ego.

He knew exactly what he was doing when he pressed his hard-on against your ass. This was the boldest move he had ever made on you.

“Here you go.”

He handed you the chips with a smile.

“T-thanks! You didn’t have to do that.”

“Um, I think I did. You were struggling a bit there,” he teased with a chuckle.

You playfully nudged his shoulder and told him to shut up. You both laughed it off. Just then, Jaemin approached the kitchen, realizing you were taking a long time getting the snacks.

“Hey, baby, what’s taking you so lo—”

He stopped speaking when he saw the position you were both in, confusion flashing across his face. You quickly returned to normal, with Haechan cooking and you closing the snack cabinet.

“Uh, what’s going on here?”

“Oh, your little girlfriend here was struggling to grab the snacks on the top shelf, so I had to help her out.”

“Oh, please! I really could’ve gotten it on my own if you weren’t here.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Jaemin noticed the playful banter between the two of you and felt a twinge of annoyance.

“First of all, she isn’t my girlfriend, and second, it seems like you two know each other.”

You didn’t know why, but hearing him say that felt unsettling. You knew he didn’t want to put a label on things yet, but you felt like you were practically in a relationship. You didn’t want to cause a scene in front of Haechan, so you slowly made your way over to Jaemin with the snacks and said, “Not really; I just found out that we have the same class together.”

“Oh, small world, huh?”

You laughed it off and made your way back into Jaemin's dorm room, leaving him alone with Haechan. It seemed Haechan had finished cooking his food and was heading back to his room.

“Dude, what the fuck was that about? I’ve never seen this talkative whenever I bring people over.”

“Hey, she was the one who talked to me first. I just wanted to make conversation. Besides—”

Haechan walked over and placed a hand on Jaemin's shoulder. “You’ve such a good girl on your hands, and you shouldn’t have anything to worry about.”

He walked away with his food, heading back to his room. Haechan had been wanting to get under Jaemin's skin for weeks, wanting to show him how it felt to be in his shoes. The look on Jaemin's face when he saw the two of you close together was priceless.

Jaemin felt annoyed, sensing the patronizing tone in Haechan's voice. He stormed back into his room and yelled, “I don’t want you talking to him anymore!”

You were confused by his sudden outburst and startled. “What are you even talking about?”

“Oh, don’t act all stupid and innocent. I saw the way he was looking at you.”

“Okay, I think you’re overreacting. I barely know the guy, and this was our first time interacting. I think you’re making a big deal—”

“No, I’m not. Just trust me when I say I have a bad feeling about him, alright?”

“Whatever. Why do you care? I’m not your girlfriend, right?”

He instantly remembered what he had said to Haechan earlier, knowing you would bring it up.

“Listen, baby—”

“Oh, don’t start with this shit again. I’m sick of you treating me this way.”

“But you know I didn’t want to put a label on us yet.”

He always said the same thing: that he wasn’t ready and didn’t want to be serious. How long would it take for him to recognize your feelings? You was starting to get fed up with him.

“Then why am I even here with you if you don’t want to take me seriously?”

“Oh, please. We both know why you wanted to spend the night here.”

You hated how entitled he was toward you. You genuinely wanted to spend some quality time together without any expectation of sex, but that was all he seemed to think you were good for. Your anger got the best of you, and you slapped him across the face.

“You’re such a jerk. I wanted to spend time with you and enjoy your company, but all you can think about is sex. It’s pathetic.”

You started to grab your things and get ready to leave. He reached out and grabbed your arm.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?”

You shrugged him off, shot him a cold look, and said, “Home. I don’t want to be with someone who only sees me as a hookup.” With that, you slammed his door behind you.

Haechan overheard the entire conversation and threw his fists in the air. He hated how Jaemin treated you and knew you deserved better—someone like him. One way or another, he was going to make you his.

Whenever he saw you in class, you would smile and wave, but that was it. He tried to talk to you, but you would avoid him. You needed space and time to heal from the situation, and this infuriated Haechan because he thought he was getting closer to you after your conversation.

So, he took it to the next level.

He tried to learn everything about you. At first, he looked for your social media, which was easy since you were mutuals with Jaemin. Haechan never followed you, of course, but he would scroll through your posts and may or may not have jerked off to some of them. He stalked you whenever you got off work and went home since you didn’t live on campus but close to the school.

He watched you almost every night, admiring your beauty. He thought about how he could sneak into your room late at night when everyone in your house was sleeping, but he knew he couldn’t pull it off unless you were alone.

Luckily for him, Mark mentioned that your parents would be out for the week and that you were planning to throw a Halloween costume party. Haechan started coming up with a crazy plan to get himself in. Once everyone left for the night, it would be just the two of you.

Everything was going to be perfect…

You've been receiving calls from your friends ever since you began organizing everything for the party. You've been busy all day running back and forth, getting your house ready. Your friends were supposed to bring all the food and snacks right before the party started. After taking some time away from Jaemin, you decided to talk to him again. He explained that he was genuinely sorry for what he said and didn’t mean it. He sees you as more than just an outlet for his pleasure; he genuinely likes you for who you are and values your relationship. He always believed it was best for the two of you to take things slow and not rush into anything, even though you might not agree. Yet, somehow, he always manages to make you give in to his wishes.

He offered to help you decorate the place as a truce. You started working on some decorations without him and were now waiting for him to arrive. However, you kept getting random calls from an unknown number, which you initially thought were scam calls trying to get personal information, so you ignored them. But your phone wouldn’t stop ringing.

Deciding enough was enough, you picked up the phone.

“Hello? Who is this?”

Silence. All you could hear was heavy breathing on the other line. Feeling creeped out, you hung up. Not even seconds later, your phone rang again, and you were getting annoyed.

“Okay, I’m serious now. Who is this, and why do you keep calling me?”

“First of all, it’s rude to hang up before letting the other person talk, sweetie,” the mysterious man said in a low, husky voice. You couldn’t tell who it was.

“Well, you were just breathing into the phone without saying a word. What do you expect me to do?”

“Feisty one, aren’t you? I didn’t know you had such an attitude.”

Unease settled in as his tone suggested he knew you.

“Do I know you?”

“Oh, you will soon. Just know that I always have my eyes on you.” His tone was harsh and direct. “I struggled hard to get your attention, and now I’m finally glad I have it.”

You started to feel uneasy and wondered how he even got your number, but you still weren’t buying any of it.

“Yeah, right. If this is a prank, it’s a lame one. How did you get my number?”

“That you don’t need to know. But I’m being honest with you, sweetheart. This isn’t a prank.”

You started to think this might be your secret admirer who’s been leaving you love notes. You also considered the possibility that Johnny or Mark had set this up to mess with you. They both loved to pull pranks, but their jokes were usually harmless, and they wouldn’t take it this far. But who else would have your number and be willing to pull a stunt like this? It made sense that they could have shared it with whoever was on the other line since both of them had it.

You’d had enough. In a firm tone, you said, “Look, I know you’re probably one of Johnny’s or Mark’s friends trying to mess with me. Tell them this prank is just embarrassing, and they need to step it up next time. And for the record, I wouldn’t be interested in you anyways because I’m already in a serious relatio-.”

“Oh, sweetheart, we both know that’s not true.”

His bold comment caught you off guard.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You and Jaemin aren’t even official. You’re just telling yourself that to make yourself feel better, but he doesn’t even have feelings for you.”

“How do you even kn—”

“Like I said, darling, I have my eyes on you.”

A shiver ran down your spine as you realized that this might be someone you know.

“Besides, I could treat you way better than him. He’s no good for you.”

Before you could respond, you heard a knock at your door.

It must be Jaemin.

“Oh, looks like your wannabe prince charming has arrived. Go be with him one last time, because once I’m through with you, you won’t need him anymore.”

“I—”

“See you later, sweetheart.”

With that, he hung up. You sank to your knees as panic took over, your chest tightening. Who was this guy, and how did he know so much about you and Jaemin? Was he some kind of stalker? Could this all really be just a sick prank?

A flood of questions ran through your mind, overwhelming you. You heard another knock, snapping you out of your thoughts. With Jaemin waiting, you took a deep breath, opened the door, and let him in, first scanning the area to see if the mysterious guy was still watching you. Seeing no one, you tried to compose yourself. Jaemin noticed you were on edge and asked what was wrong. You told him everything that had happened, and he was shocked. You left out the stranger’s comment about you and Jaemin, not wanting to stir up any more issues between you two.

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry you’re going through this. Whoever this guy is, he’s a sick freak who needs to be dealt with. I can’t believe this is the same guy who’s been leaving those weird sticky notes.”

“I know… At first, I wondered if this could be one of Johnny’s or Mark’s pranks.”

“Come on, you think Johnny or Mark would pull something this crazy?”

“No, but I have no idea who else it could be.”

“They’ll be at the party later tonight, right? Pull them aside, and ask if this is some prank. If it’s not, we’ll figure out what to do next.”

You nodded in agreement, and the two of you returned to decorating the house. You placed fake pumpkins and spiders around while Jaemin hung up skeleton streamers, letting him handle the tougher tasks. He owed you after the way he’d been treating you lately.

When you finally finished, you both slumped onto the couch, exhausted but satisfied with the setup.

“Thank you so much for your help! If I’d done this alone, I’d never be ready in time for the party.”

He gave you a warm look, his voice sincere. “No problem, love. Anything for you.”

You found it a bit off-putting whenever he use pet names, something usually a thing that couples do. He acted like you two were official but didn’t want to label it. You began to think about what the mysterious man had said on the phone and started to wonder if his words might hold some truth.

“Hey Jaemin, can I ask you something?”

He shifted his position toward you, sensing that this was going to be serious.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

"Look, I know you’re not big on labels, but I at least want to know if you have feelings for me or not. I don’t want to invest all my energy into this if you’re not even interested—"

Before you could finish, he cupped your face with both hands and kissed you passionately.

“Of course I have feelings for you, I always have. I know I haven’t been treating you the best, and I’m just terrible at communicating my feelings. It really takes me time to open up, but I only care about you, alright?"

You nodded and believed what he was saying. But now there was a noticeable tension in the air, and you began to feel overwhelmed. You could see the lust in his eyes, and it was clear that he wanted you badly. The tension became too much, and you both started to passionately kiss. You straddled his lap, feeling yourself melt against him. He wrapped both hands around your waist and slowly lowered them to cup your ass. You whimpered in response, not wanting him to stop touching you like this.

“Mhm, you like that? You’re already shaking for me, pretty girl.”

The fact that he called you “pretty” made you feel hot all over. He always knew how to make you flustered. Too embarrassed to say anything, all you could do was respond. He flipped you onto your back on the couch, positioning himself on top of you.

“Let me take it from here.”

He resumed kissing you, moving down to your neck. One of his hands lifted your shirt and squeezed your chest. A loud moan escaped your lips, and you felt him smirk against your skin. Then he twisted your nipple, eliciting a yelp of pleasure as you threw your head back against the couch. You didn’t want him to stop. With his other hand, he slid down to your panties and noticed the dampness forming between your legs.

“Oh, look what we have here. How are you already so wet for me?”

His teasing drove you wild, and you felt hot and bothered ever since he confessed his feelings for you. That reassurance was what you had been waiting for, and it felt amazing knowing he felt the same way. He pulled your panties aside and began to finger your wet core. He didn’t waste any time, shoving two fingers inside you, and you eagerly welcomed him. You became a babbling mess, unable to form coherent sentences. He knew how much you loved this and took it a step further, rubbing your clit with his thumb. You wanted to cum right then and there, unable to stop moaning about how good it felt.

“P-please don’t stop…”

Your plea only spurred him on, and he didn’t slow down. He could feel you getting close, your walls pulsing around his fingers.

“I’m g-gonn cu-”

Right before you were about to climax, he pulled his fingers out. You winced at the emptiness now settling in your core.

“I’m sorry, baby, but I need to be inside you now.”

He lowered his joggers and pulled out his cock. He grabbed your legs, pushed them back, and thrust his length deep inside you. You felt overstimulated and ready for another round.

He began to fuck you at a rough, sloppy pace. Whenever you had sex, he expected you to keep up with him when he got carried away like this. Sometimes, though, he took his time and gave you all his attention, but tonight wasn’t one of those nights. This time, he barely looked at you, his eyes closed as he focused on his pleasure. He picked up the pace even more, and you could sense he was getting close. You weren’t even close to cumming and wished he would slow down. It had barely been a minute, and he was already on the brink.

“F-fuck, baby, I’m close…I’m going to cum in your mouth this time—open up—”

You didn’t argue; you opened your mouth. He pulled your hair with one hand and shoved your face onto his length. You felt a rush of his cum flow down your throat, but it was too much, so you tapped on his arm to pull out. He finished on your face and chest.

“God, that was amazing. I’m sorry if I rushed things at the end; you just made me feel so fuckin’ good, you know?”

You could only nod in response, barely able to meet his gaze.

“Hey, did you at least cu—”

Before he could finish, you both heard a knock at the door. It was probably one of your friends coming over with snacks and drinks. Glancing at the time, you realized the party was starting in less than an hour. Panic set in as you took in your half-naked state.

“Fuck, I think that’s Jisung. He said he would come a little early to help set up. I can’t let him see us like this—”

“Hey, don’t worry. Why don’t you go take a shower and clean yourself up? I’ll let him know you’re getting ready and help him out!”

You gave him a quick kiss to thank him and rushed to the bathroom to get ready for the party.

You were all dressed up in a costume and decided to be a witch. You had the whole getup with the broom and hat. You wore a ruffled black dress that accentuated your figure and lifted your chest. You were still thinking about what had happened between you and Jaemin earlier and wished he had at least made you finish instead of leaving you feeling unsatisfied. You were hoping that once everyone leaves your house you guys can go at it again.

An hour later, your party was in full swing, and it felt like the whole school had shown up. This was what happened when you left Johnny in charge of inviting people; he knew practically everyone. It didn’t matter to you as long as people were having a good time. But speaking of Johnny, you still wanted to talk to him and Mark about the strange calls you had been receiving.

Hours passed, and before long, it was Halloween.

After spending what felt like forever looking for Johnny, you finally spotted him arriving late as usual, dressed as the Joker. You saw that he was dressed as the Joker, while Mark stood beside him, once again in his Spiderman costume. They were both drinking and having a good time. You walked over to greet them, and they both stood up to hug you.

“Oh hey, sorry we’re late. We had to pre-game beforehand,” Johnny said with an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, it’s really his fault. If it were me, I would’ve been here on time,” Mark chimed in.

“Dude, no you wouldn’t. Besides, you’re only here because I invited you. I could’ve easily not told you about it,” Johnny retorted.

“Well, I would’ve known about the party regardless since you decided to invite literally EVERYONE from school,” Mark shot back.

There they go again, bickering like an old married couple. You felt your annoyance rising and chimed in.

“GUYS, can you not do this right now? I need to talk to both of you in private.”

They stopped arguing, noticing the concern in your eyes. They followed you into the empty hallway, where there was no one else around.

“Listen, I know you guys like to pull pranks on people, but don’t drag me into it.”

They exchanged confused looks.

“Umm, what are you talking about? We didn’t pull any pranks on you,” Johnny replied, still looking lost.

“Are you serious? This isn’t funny. I’ve been getting calls from some strange guy saying he’s watching me and leaving weird notes in my bag.”

Mark and Johnny each placed a hand on your shoulders, their expressions sincere.

“We’re serious. Whatever’s going on with you isn’t our doing. But it sounds scary, and you should involve the police if it escalates further,” Mark said.

At that moment, you realized they were telling the truth.

“Yeah, if he calls again, I’ll report him to the police. Sorry for pinning this on you guys. I should’ve known you wouldn’t do anything this crazy.”

They both hugged you, and Johnny added, “Hey, it’s all good. We like to joke around a lot, but never to this degree. Whoever this guy is sounds like a creep.”

“Yeah, I know. Anyway, I won’t hold you guys up too long. Enjoy the party! I’m going to get some fresh air outside.”

“Alright, if you need us for anything, just call.”

You nodded and went your separate ways.

Making your way to the patio, you thought you’d be alone, but to your surprise, someone was already there. He wore a black leather jacket, gloves, black pants, and heavy-duty boots, topped off with a Ghostface mask to complete the look.

Such a cliché.

“Nice costume you’ve got there,” you said, trying to make conversation.

Haechan turned to you, trying to act normal, though he hadn’t expected to see you so soon. He had planned to wait outside until everyone left, then sneak inside when you were alone. But the party had lasted longer than he anticipated, and he didn’t want to seem suspicious around you.

“Ah, thanks! I had this mask lying around in my closet and wanted to wear it tonight.”

You could tell he was lying and called him out.

“Let me guess, you bought it last minute and couldn’t find anything better to wear?”

“Aww, how did you know?”

“Oh come on, everyone dresses up as Ghostface for Halloween. It’s kind of basic, if you ask me. No offense.”

“Ouch! Tell me how you really feel?” he said playfully.

“Sorry, I’ve just been stressed out all day and I’m lashing out at people. My apologies.”

He noticed you started to fidget and suggested that you both sit down on the outdoor sofa.

“Hey, it’s okay! I know we may not know each other, but I’m willing to hear you out.”

“Are you sure? You should be inside with the others, having fun. I don’t want to dump all my problems on you.”

“I am fine being just right here with you.”

You don’t know why, but you feel your body tense up a bit hearing him say that.

He leaned back on the couch, both arms spread across the back, ready to hear what you had to say.

“Besides, parties aren’t my scene. I only came here because a friend of mine really wanted me to come. Now tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Alright, I got this weird call earlier today from this mysterious guy saying that he is watching me at all times, and it’s been creeping me out. I've also been receiving these notes in school, and I’m thinking it’s from the same guy.”

He knows that you are talking about him, and he has to act normal about it.

“Wow, that's kind of scary. I mean, maybe it’s just someone trying to mess with you, being that it's Halloween and all.”

“At first, I thought it was a prank done by my two other friends, but when I asked them about it, they both said it wasn’t them.”

He switched his position, crossed his arms, and was now manspreading beside you. You couldn't quite understand why, but even though you had no idea who this guy was or what he looked like under that mask, he still seemed so attractive to you. You tried to keep your composure, shifted in your seat, and pressed your thighs together. You knew you shouldn’t feel this way toward anyone but Jaemin, but Ghostface was kind of doing something to you right now.

He noticed the subtle effect he was starting to have on you. He didn’t want to make it obvious, though, and just acted like he didn't notice. You can’t see it, but he has the biggest smirk on his face right now.

“Huh, that's weird. What did he even write on the notes?”

“Well, at first, they were sweet and innocent about how pretty he thought I was and how they liked the way I styled my hair. But down the line, it just got creepier and sexual, and I…” You began to glance down at your lap, fiddling with your thumbs.

He noticed that you were starting to get uncomfortable from just talking about it, so he just backed off.

“Hey, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But have you thought about reporting it to the authorities?”

“Only if he calls me again.”

You said in a blunt tone while giving him a deadpan look. He knows that you aren’t messing around this time. It wasn’t going to stop him because he knew he was going to get what he wanted by the end of tonight.

He scooted closer to you and placed a hand on your thigh. Your body went stiff, and you fell frozen in your spot.

“If this is really bothering you that much, you should end the party early so you can go to bed and sleep on it. You seem on edge; all these people at your house aren't going to make it any better.”

You started to feel warm inside from the way he was caressing your thigh. You shouldn’t feel this sensitive. He then proceeded to get up and said,

“Well, I’m going to head out now; it’s starting to get late. I hope you figure out your little stalker problem soon, sweetheart.”

You were taken aback by the sudden nickname and it almost felt familiar to you. You said your goodbyes to him and wished him a good night. He closed your patio door, and you decided to stay outside for a little while.

You wondered what he looked like under the mask…

Some time passed, and as the night went on, you started to feel more and more anxious. You paced back and forth on the patio, still trying to figure out who would even try to stalk you like this. Jaemin spent the whole night looking for you, and he asked Johnny where you were. Johnny told him where to find you, and Jaemin headed towards the backyard. He went outside to your patio and saw you pacing back and forth, shaking.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? I was looking for you all night, and I see you here hiding out from your own party.”

You looked up at him, and he could tell how freaked out you were. He went over to hug you, and you rested your head on his chest. He slowly patted your head and tried to calm you down.

“Now tell me what’s going on.”

You filled him in on everything that happened and how you talked to Mark and Johnny, who said that it wasn't them pulling pranks on you. Jaemin was very protective of you, and he wanted to keep you safe at that moment.

“So what are you going to do now?”

“I think it’s best if I end the party early and let everyone go home. I’m starting to get pretty tired, and I just want all of these people out of my house now,” you said with a slight laugh.

“Hey, let me at least spend the night here with you. I want to be able to protect you if anything happens.”

You loved how sweet Jaemin was, and you agreed to his offer. Together, you went back inside, stopped the music, and told everyone that the party was over. As guests started to leave, your house gradually fell silent.

Now it was just you and Jaemin.

You both made your way to your room, where you lay back on your bed, staring at the ceiling while Jaemin stood above you, looking down.

“Hey, on the bright side, you threw a really good Halloween party. Everyone seemed to have fun,” Jaemin said, trying to comfort you.

“Yeah… I just wish this wasn’t happening to me, you know? Like, why me? What did I do to deserve this?” Tears formed in your eyes as you covered your face with your hands, trying to hide your emotions. Jaemin quickly rushed to your side, sitting on the bed and attempting to comfort you. He gently pulled your hands away from your face and wiped away your tears.

“Hey, none of this is your fault. Whoever is doing this to you is just a loser trying to mess with your head.”

Jaemin was right. Whoever was behind this was just a creep projecting their weird fantasies onto you. You looked directly into his soft eyes and felt like you could melt for him, just as you had earlier in the day.

“Hey, let’s not dwell on this anymore, alright? I wish we had spent more time together during the party. Where were you most of the night, anyway?”

“Oh, I was outside in the backyard for most of the time. I wanted to be left alone. When I first got there, I thought I would be alone, but there was some guy dressed as Ghostface chilling on my patio. I talked to him a bit, but he just left.”

“Ghostface… I don’t remember seeing anyone in that costume. Did you get his name?”

“That’s the thing; for some reason, it slipped my mind, and I forgot to ask. He didn’t stay long at the party, anyway. He said it wasn’t really his scene, so that’s probably why you didn’t see him.”

Jaemin didn’t think much of it and decided to change the subject.

“Anyway, you didn’t even comment on my costume. What do you think?”

You were so distracted by everything that you hadn’t even acknowledged his outfit. He had chosen a classic vampire costume but with a twist—his shirt was sleeveless, revealing his toned arms. To be honest, you couldn’t stop looking at them and wished he could pin you down with them. Ever since he left you feeling a little dissatisfied earlier, you wanted to go another round with him. You sat up on your bed, facing him, and traced small circles on one of his arms, giving him a bashful look.

“I think you look good, even though you chose one of the most basic costumes in the book.”

He scoffed playfully, acting hurt by your comment. “Says the one who is dressed as a witch.”

“Hey, in my defense, my priority was making sure the party ran smoothly, and I didn’t have time to come up with a more creative costume.”

You both laughed and as you resumed looking at each other, the lust in your eyes grew palpable. He started to lower his hand onto your thigh, slowly rubbing it back and forth. Then, he leaned in to kiss you, and you welcomed his advances. As he climbed on top of you, you moaned beneath him. Just as things were getting serious between you two, Jaemin’s phone began to ring. Initially, he considered ignoring it, but when he saw it was his mom, he knew he had to answer. You both paused what you were doing and he stepped out of the room for a moment so he could take the call. When he returned, he wore a sad expression.

“I’m sorry to do this to you, but my mom got called in to work last minute, and I have to go watch my little sister. Do you think you’ll be fine on your own?”

“Oh, yeah, I will. Plus, it’s getting pretty late anyway, and I’m just going to sleep. I’ll be fine, really!”

He apologized once more, kissed you on the forehead, and then left your house, leaving you alone.

Or so you thought…

Little did you know, Haechan had been hiding out in your closet. After he had left you by yourself on the patio, he claimed he was going home, but in reality, he went upstairs to your room to rummage through your things. He even stole a pair of your panties and took off the mask for a moment to breathe in your scent, reveling in it. He had been waiting for you to heed his earlier advice and kick everyone out so it could just be the two of you.

But when Haechan heard your and Jaemin's voices nearing your room, he panicked and quickly hid in your closet. He had been planning to sneak out once both of you were asleep, intending to come after you another night. However, he got lucky tonight with Jaemin having to leave you alone so abruptly.

He was waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Peering through the crack of the closet door, he saw you passed out on your bed, looking peaceful. You were so tired that you had forgotten to change out of your costume. Watching you sleep, he thought you looked so pretty that he almost hesitated to touch you.

But he just couldn’t help it when you looked so easy for him to take. He started by lightly squeezing your chest with his gloved hands. He had always wanted to know how your tits would feel in his hands, and he loved it. He noticed you started to shake a bit and was afraid you might wake up, but you were still fast asleep.

So he decided to take it a step further.

With his free hand, he went down to touch your pussy and noticed how wet you were. It was probably because of Jaemin earlier. Haechan's blood was boiling, and he wanted to be the one to make you feel this good.

He slowly slid your panties off and slipped a finger inside you, noticing how quickly you were soaking his gloves.

“God, you’re such a slut. He barely even touched you, and you’re already this fucking wet for him,” he mumbled under his breath so you wouldn’t wake up. You began to fidget around in your sleep, and he started to get on edge. It turned him on to see you become such a mess for him, even though you were fast asleep.

He decided enough was enough and shoved another finger inside you while simultaneously rubbing his thumb against your clit. You started to toss and turn even more, and he didn’t even care if you woke up at that point; he just wanted to make you cum.

You began to slowly wake up, thinking it was Jaemin who was making you feel this good. You said, “Baby, what do you think you—”

Before you could finish your sentence, as you began to open your eyes, you saw it wasn’t Jaemin touching you, but he was wearing a Ghostface costume. It looked like the same guy you had talked to earlier that night.

“H-hey what are y-you do-”

He pulled his fingers out of you and pushed them down your throat, making you taste yourself. With his other hand, he pinned your wrist above your head while pressing his thigh against your cunt.

“Oh, rise and shine, my love. It seems that you’re finally awake. You see, I was just having a little fun. I mean, look at you. How could I not?”

You were still trying to process everything that was happening to you right now. Why was the Ghostface guy from earlier still in your house, and why was he doing this to you? You tried to fight back, but he was simply too strong and bigger than you. He had the physical advantage, and you felt so frail underneath him.

“Now you’re probably wondering who I am and why I’m doing all this to you. Well, if you haven’t guessed it by now, I’m the one who’s been stalking you and who called you earlier today."

Goosebumps spread across your body as fear set in. He spoke in a cold tone as if he didn’t care about how he had been treating you. You tried to speak, but with his fingers deep in your throat, it was difficult. A hint of remorse flickered in his eyes, and he withdrew his fingers. You coughed and gasped for air, struggling to catch your breath.

“W-why are you even doing this to me?”

He began to caress your face with his hand, and when you turned away from his touch, he grabbed your jaw to make you look at him.

“You better keep those pretty eyes on me, or you’re seriously going to regret it. As for why I’m doing this... to be honest, I’ve been obsessed with you for quite some time now. It was only a matter of time before I sneaked into your room and took what I’ve been wanting so badly-” He lowered his hand from your jaw down to your neck and began to squeeze around your throat.

“You.”

His words sent shivers down your spine, leaving you gasping for air once again. You tried to beg and plead for him to stop, but it only made him harder; he was practically getting off on seeing you struggle like this.

He loved to see the fear in your eyes and was savoring every moment of this. He wanted to take it up a notch and make you even more scared. With his other hand, he unzipped his jacket, and from the inside pocket, he pulled out a knife. Your eyes widened, and you began to shake and shiver out of fear.

“Shh, sweetheart, I’m not going to hurt you with this. I would never do such a thing...”

You didn’t believe a word he was saying. You couldn’t understand how he had managed to sneak into your house and get a hold of you like this. He started to caress the dull part of the knife against your face, and you squirmed.

“P-please, just stop all of this…”

“Why should I? You look so pretty all scared for me, I’m just having some fun.”

You begin to tense up beneath him as you feel tears start to form in your eyes. He smirks underneath his mask and he brings himself closer to you and tilts your head to the side.

“Aww, are you starting to cry, my love? That’s only going to turn me on even more…”

You felt so disgusted by the way he was talking to you. You were scared out of your mind right now, and you wished Jaemin didn’t have to leave so soon.

“Besides, Jaemin makes you cry way more than I do.”

You were taken aback by how this guy even knew about your relationship with Jaemin. He never talked about you to many people and preferred to keep your relationship private, just as you did.

“How do you—”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I always have my eyes on you.”

He slowly started to drag the knife down your face, moving it toward your neck as he released your throat.

“I see how he makes you cry whenever you're alone at night after arguing with him for the millionth time, or all the times he doesn’t even look your way at school and ignores you the day after you argue.”

You hated how much he seemed to know about your relationship with Jaemin; it only deepened your pain.

“Even after everything he’s done to you, you still run your pretty ass back to him. God, you can be so stupid sometimes.”

He pressed the knife against your throat.

“Now imagine my surprise when I called you earlier today and saw you welcome that jerk with open arms and—”

He began to rub circles against your warmth.

“Open legs. You’re such a slut; the sex can’t be that good. He didn’t even let you come again, did he?”

You hated how accurate he was. You always found yourself running back to Jaemin despite all the awful things he’d done to you. But you tried to defend him, saying, “Well, we w-were going to try it again tonight, and I—"

All he did was laugh in your face. Even he knew you weren’t sure of yourself, the hesitation clear in your voice. He could tell you were starting to have doubts. Then he moved the sharp edge of the knife against your sternum, and you squirmed away from him, but you weren’t going anywhere since he still had you pinned down.

“Ah, baby, don’t move around too much, or you’ll hurt yourself. Plus, we both know he wasn’t going to do shit to you tonight. He was probably going to rush into things as always, leaving you unsatisfied. While I, on the other hand—”

He slowly dragged the knife along your costume, slicing it down the middle.

“Would never leave you feeling unsatisfied and would always make you feel good, because that, my love, is what you deserve.”

You were now exposed, left in nothing but your black lacy bra and panties.

“God, you look so beautiful,” he said breathlessly.

He used one of the ripped pieces of your costume as a makeshift rope to tie your hands together, freeing himself from having to pin them down. You looked so helpless underneath him, and he was loving every second of it.

“Don’t act like you don’t want this…”

He trailed off as he started to drag the knife across your chest; the coolness of the blade against your warm body made you flinch. Your breathing quickened, and fear started to seep in again.

“You like that someone is finally giving you the love and attention you deserve.”

With that, he cut off your bra, leaving your chest exposed for him. He let out a low groan of pleasure and cursed under his breath.

“Everything about you is just perfect.”

He then used the flat side of the knife to glide over your nipples, the cool sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body. You pulled at your restraints, wishing he would let you go.

“Aww, you’re so cute thinking you can run away from this.”

He dragged the knife across your panties, rubbing the handle against your clothed core. You let out a low whimper, and he wore a big smirk on his face. Then he used the knife to cut off your panties, clearly noticing your arousal.

You tried to close your legs to prevent him from touching you, but he held both of your legs down with his hands.

“God, sweetie. I didn't think you'd be this wet for me.”

You felt incredibly flustered by how much he was starting to turn you on. You didn’t even know who this guy was, yet he somehow managed to get you this worked up.

“I think it’s in your best interest to keep your legs spread open for me.”

You still didn’t want to give in to him and tried your best to hold him off. You started to move and kick him away from you.

“P-please, just l-let me go—”

He silenced you with a hard slap against your cunt.

“If you don’t do what I say, sweetheart, I’ll make this worse for you.” His voice dropped to a calm, unnervingly cold tone.

You felt intimidated by him at this moment and didn’t want to go against his words.

“Please don’t, I’m sorry—”

He delivered another slap against your pussy, catching you off guard and eliciting a soft moan. He was taken aback by the noise you made and felt a surge of desire to tease you about it.

“Aww, don’t tell me you like that, pretty girl. You’re such a slut.”

You couldn’t understand why, but his degrading words ignited something within you. Jaemin would never talk to you like this and rarely said anything degrading, but when Ghostface did, it only turned you on. You found yourself starting to open your legs for him, not wanting to provoke him any further. He liked that you were finally beginning to listen.

“That’s my girl. Stay nice and obedient for me.”

He began to lightly pat the flat edge of the knife against your pussy, specifically targeting your clit. The coolness of it against your warmth made you squirm.

“Ah, ah, remember I said don’t move, sweetie. We wouldn’t want you to get hurt now.”

You tried to stay still, but it was nearly impossible when he teased you like this. Haechan thought to himself that he could drive you even crazier. With the handle of the knife, he started rubbing it against your clit, making you let out a moan.

“You like this, princess? Who would’ve thought you were just as much of a freak as I am?”

You hated how he compared himself to you as if you were the same. Then, he lowered the handle of the knife against your opening and slowly shoved it into your core. You immediately threw your head back against your pillow, letting out a yelp of pleasure. He thrust it in and out at a slow pace, making you wince.

He positioned himself on top of you, continuing to pound into your cunt with the knife while pinching and squeezing your nipples. He was overstimulating every part of your body right now. It was only a matter of time before you caved in for him.

“Don’t tell me you actually like this. Can you be any more pathetic?”

His humiliating words only intensified your arousal. You didn’t even know you could be into any of this. You were too turned on by what he was doing to talk back. He didn’t like that very much and began to shove the handle into you at a rough pace while he let go of your chest. He then rubbed his fingers against your clit.

“When I ask you a question, I expect you to give me an answer,” he said in a stern tone.

You couldn’t hold out any more and surrendered.

“P-please, g-go faster. I n-need you so bad… fuck.”

You couldn’t help it; the look on your face was priceless. He wore a playful smirk, clearly reveling in how quickly you had given in.

He finally had you wrapped around his little finger.

“Aww, you need me, sweetie? How badly do you want it?” he teased.

“S-so b-bad… ah, I think I’m going to cu-”

He already knew you were getting close; you started making a mess around the handle, forming a puddle beneath you. He shoved it into you at a rougher pace and rubbed your clit fast with his other hand until you instantly came all over the knife, and he continued to fuck you through your orgasm.

"That’s it, my love. Let it all out for me."

You reached the peak of your climax and fell breathless. However, he wasted no time shoving the handle of the knife down your throat.

“Now be a good girl and taste yourself for me.”

You were caught off guard by his actions, letting him do what he wanted as you sucked your juices off the handle.

“Mhm, there’s my girl. Get some practice, because you’re about to suck me off next.”

Your eyes widened at his words. You barely felt like you could go another round, and now he wanted you to please him? Seeing your eyes glazed over and your tongue swirling against the handle was making him hard. He began to shove it deeper into your throat, making you gag. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and Haechan couldn’t handle it anymore. He took the handle off your mouth and placed it on your bedside table. Then, he sat at the edge of your bed and made you kneel in front of him.

He zipped down his pants, exposing himself as your hands remained tied behind your back. He smirked and lightly tapped his cock against your face.

“I know this isn’t your first time, so you know what to do, princess. Blow me.”

You didn’t waste any time, starting by slowly licking your way up his shaft. You began at the base and made your way to the tip, tasting the pre-cum that dripped out of him. Growing impatient, he gripped your hair, shoving your face down onto his length. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he thrust into your throat, making it hard to manage with your hands tied. You wanted to grip his thighs as he fucked your throat so vigorously, and the way you gagged around him only drew a grunt of pleasure from him. He threw his head back, clearly lost in the moment, then let go of your hair. But you continued to move up and down his cock, loving every second of it.

“Fuck, baby, you’re doing such a good job for me. I can’t wait to ruin you after this.”

The thought of him having his hands on you again turned you on even more. You felt him start to pulse in your throat, and he was getting close. Just before he was about to cum, he pulled your hair and shoved your face into the bed, lifting your hips to meet him. In one smooth heated motion, he pressed into your needy core, pulling a moan from your lips that nearly escaped as a scream.

“Fuck, how are you so wet for me all over again? You're dripping all over me, princess.”

You were flustered, struggling to understand why you were still so aroused by him. He bullied his way deep inside you, the tip of his cock pressing against your walls. All you could do was moan out how good he made you feel, and he occasionally spanked your ass just to see your reaction. Tears rolled down your cheeks from the overwhelming pleasure.

“Aww, there you go crying again. God, if it wasn’t for this mask right now, I’d lick all your pretty tears away.”

Then it hit you.

You’d been going at it with this guy for a while now, and you still didn’t know what he looked like. The fact that you didn’t know only turned you on more. With this realization, you squeezed around his cock, and he grunted out pleasure.

“Fuck, baby, do that again for me.”

You were so lost in your own world that you completely didn’t hear anything he just said.

He grabbed your restrained hands like handles, slamming you down onto his dick, which definitely got your attention, pulling a moan from your lips that was practically a scream.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours? You’re thinking way too much for me, love and you can’t even focus on what I’m saying."

He started fucking you at a rough pace, and you shoved your face into the pillow, unable to handle everything. He let go of your wrists and grabbed your hair instead, bringing your face close to his. Your head rested against his shoulder as he whispered in your ear, “I don’t want a single thought in that head unless I put it there.”

He wasn’t messing around anymore and he wanted your full attention on him.

“Besides-”

He pushed your face back down into the bed, hovering over your back as he whispered in your ear, “I don’t want you thinking about Jaemin anymore after I’m done with you.”

Your eyes widened, and you completely forgot about him. You were so immersed in what you had going on with the masked guy that you didn’t even consider how Jaemin would feel about this. Haechan noticed a picture of you and Jaemin on the nightstand.

“Oh, look at that, baby. You and him look so happy together.” He got closer to your ear, and his words sent chills down your spine. “Wait until he finds out you let a stranger in a Ghostface mask fuck you balls deep into your bed…I mean, how much more pathetic can you be?”

A wave of guilt washed over you. You hated how he was humiliating you like this, yet you were still aroused by it. You started to tighten around him once again, and he let out a low moan in response.

“Atta girl, you’re finally listening to me. You know I find it so interesting that you don’t even know what I look like yet I’m turning you on so much.”

He wrapped his gloved hands around your throat, and you could feel the rugged leather material pressing against your skin.

“You’re so fucking gross for being turned on by this. Here I thought I was the biggest pervert between the two of us. Turns out it’s you.”

You let out a moan at his degrading words, completely giving in. You didn’t care anymore; you embraced it. Jaemin never made you feel this way, and this masked guy was doing so much more than he ever could.

All of a sudden, he changed the position, and now you were straddling him, sitting in his lap. With both hands firmly gripping your waist, he looked up at you, a playful glint in his eyes visible beneath his mask.

“Ride me.”

You were caught off guard by his demand, but you didn’t have any problem complying. He finally untied your hands, and you grabbed his length, slowly lowering yourself onto him. A gasp escaped his lips as his head fell back, overwhelmed by the sensation of being inside you again.

You whimpered as you tried to adjust to him, the pain quickly mixing with pleasure as he pulled you down onto him, your moan turning into a scream of bliss. You began to move, bouncing on him with a quick, eager pace, yet your thoughts wandered, wondering about the face hidden beneath his mask. You couldn’t shake the urge to ask.

“I’m sorry to ask you this, but… would you take off your mask? I want to s-see you...” The words spilled out before you could stop yourself.

For a moment, he hesitated, but when he caught the pleading look in your eyes, he couldn’t resist. The thought of your reaction only fueled him, his hands gripping firmly onto your waist as he thrust into you.

“You know what? Since you’ve been so obedient, I think you’ve earned it. Go ahead, take it off.”

His voice was low and teasing, and while he continued to move inside you, you slowly reached up, pulling off his mask. With both hands, you slowly began to lift off his mask, and you couldn’t believe it.

It was Haechan, Jaemin’s roommate.

This all makes so much sense now, especially why he knew so much about your relationship.

The realization left you speechless, mouth slightly agape as Haechan laughed, savoring your stunned expression. “Baby, I left you scared and speechless. You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he teased, making a cheesy joke out of the situation.

Humiliation and shame flooded over you, and you instinctively pushed against his chest to stop, but he only tightened his grip. Shifting positions, he laid you back, your hands pinned beside you as he thrust into you harder, his pace relentless.

“Aww, just a second ago you were bouncing that pretty ass on me, and now you’re all shy because you realized it’s me?” he taunted, angling himself to hit deeper, making you cry out as he struck your most sensitive spot.

“You’re so fucking pathetic, it’s not even funny,” he taunted, watching as you squirmed beneath him. You had never felt so humiliated in your life, especially knowing that Haechan was the one behind all of this. You shouldn’t have been enjoying any of this, yet here you were, spread out for him, letting him take you completely.

Haechan leaned down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. You whimpered into his mouth as he trailed down to your neck, his teeth and tongue teasing your skin with bites and kisses that left you breathless.

“Haechan… you make me feel so good…” you murmured, your voice barely a whisper.

Hearing you finally moan his name pushed him over the edge. He began to wrap his hand around your throat, gripping lightly. “You like this, my pretty girl? Admit it, you wanted me from the moment you saw me back at the apartment. I saw that look you gave me when I pressed myself against you."

You whimpered, shaking your head in denial, though deep down you knew he was right. You had to admit that you were attracted to Haechan the moment you saw him. He looked so attractive in his hoodie, with that sleepy expression on his face making you want him to bend you over right then and there. But with Jaemin weighing on your mind, you weren’t going to act on your attraction to Haechan.

“F-fine. Yes, I did want you,” you admitted. Just hearing you say that makes him want to cum for you right then and there, but he holds himself back.

He didn’t want to be like Jaemin, after all.

“Mmm, that’s my girl. I love how honest you’re being with me now,” he purred, lifting your legs, and pressing them back near your head as he thrust deep into you. “I think it’s time we wrap this up, don’t you think?”

“F-fuck yes, please, just… use me,” you gasped, feeling utterly under his spell, craving every bit of him.

Without hesitation, he drove himself deep into you, and you gripped the sheets as the pleasure intensified. He kissed you deeply, tongues clashing, both of you lost in the blissful sensation. Pulling back, he stared into your eyes, almost in disbelief that you were truly in the palm of his hands.

“You know, at first, I felt a little bad for doing this to you. Seeing you cry to Jaemin about me almost made me want to leave you alone.” He continued to thrust, bullying his way into your sensitive spot again, and both of you nearing the edge. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and arms around his neck, bringing him even closer.

“But seeing how much you enjoy it?” His voice was low, almost mocking. “I don’t feel sorry for you at all.” His words sent a wave of shivers through your entire body.

"You even asked him earlier what you did to deserve this," he murmured, leaning down to whisper in your ear. His tone was cocky, almost teasing.

“Well… nothing, really. I just wanted to do this because I know I can. I know you couldn't resist me, that you wouldn’t stop me from taking what I want." His words made you whimper, and you hid your face in the nape of his neck, overwhelmed.

"So let it happen, love," he continued, his voice dripping with confidence. "I know you want it too… and I'm getting close."

Hearing how sure he had been about you from the beginning only heightened your arousal. He knew that one way or another, he was going to have you here, completely spread open for him. His pace quickened, each thrust bringing you both closer to the edge.

"F-fuck, baby," he gasped, voice strained. "Where do you want it?"

With your legs wrapped around him, you pulled him deeper, meeting his gaze, and in a voice soft yet full of desire you replied

“Inside, please don’t pull out.”

That encouraged him to thrust faster, and soon you both finished together, riding out each other's orgasms. Your moans grew louder and louder, and you couldn't help yourself.

“Mhm, that’s it, sweetheart. Scream for me.”

You yelled out for him as he emptied his load deep inside your aching cunt. Both of you looked down to see the mess you had made, splattered across the sheets and even on his pelvis, leaving some of your juices along his happy trail. Breathless, you gasped for air as he quickly reached for a bottle of water from your bedside table and placed a pillow behind your head. It was the least he could do. Noticing how you were drifting off to sleep, he gently cleaned you up and tucked you back into bed.

“Please don’t tell Jaemin about this. It should come from me first.”

“Oh, does this mean you’re finally going to leave him?”

You stared up at the ceiling, reflecting on everything that had transpired—not just with Jaemin, but with Haechan as well. You realized you deserved better and shouldn’t have to settle for less.

“I mean, yeah. But for this to work, you’ve got to stop stalking me.”

He smirked and leaned down to give you one last passionate kiss on the lips.

“Can’t make any promises… Now, you have a good night.”

He grabbed his mask and headed toward your bedroom door, he glanced back at you with a grin.

“And oh, happy Halloween…”

713 notes · View notes

adrienneleclerc · 8 months ago

Text

Wrong Name

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Charles pranks Y/N by calling her the wrong name to see how she would react, it did not go well

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: inspired by @23victoria post “what did you call me” also I figured Y/N put Charles through two TikTok pranks, it’s only fair Charles pulls a prank on her. Same universe as “say it back” and “can you get out?” Also, super sorry if your name is Romina.

Charles was on TikTok because he couldn’t sleep and saw a video where a girl called her boyfriend by the wrong name. He decided to take it upon himself to pull this prank on his girlfriend. He just hopes she doesn’t get angry.

“Muñeco, im getting groceries for dinner, I’ll be back soon!” Y/N calls out.

“Okay, Mon ange.” Charles said, getting off the couch to say goodbye to his girlfriend properly. “I love you.” Charles kissed Y/N.

“I love you too.” Y/N said before leaving. Charles decided to play video games and when he heard the door open 30 minutes later, that’s when he decided to put his plan into action. Y/N was putting the groceries away in the fridge when…

“Hey Romina, what did you buy?” Charles said and Y/N closed the fridge and the bags that were on the counter were long forgotten because she was now in front of the TV.

“What did you say?” Y/N asked.

“I said ‘hey Y/N, what did you buy?’ Are you feeling alright?” Charles asked, pausing his game. He felt so guilty for the gaslighting.

“The hell you did, you just called me Romina. Who the fuck is Romina?” Y/N asked in a louder tone.

“Romina, calm down.” Charles said and that’s when he knew he fucked up.

“First of all, you never tell a woman to calm down, have you learned NOTHING from watching TV or having other girlfriends? Second, you just called me Romina AGAIN! So please, calmly tell me…” Y/N said as she went to their bedroom to get one of her chanclas 🩴 “who the hell is Romina before I become like my mother and beat your ass with this chancla.”

“There’s no need to get violent, Y/N.” Charles said.

“Really? Then tell me why did you call me Romina.” Y/N said.

“It was a prank.” Charles said. “I saw a TikTok of girls calling their boyfriends by the wrong name and I wanted to see how you would react.” Charles confessed shyly.

“You chose THAT prank, specifically THAT one, to pull on me, a girl who has been cheated on before?” Y/N asked rhetorically.

“Yeah, I didn’t think it through actually.” Charles admitted.

“Menso, i was actually gonna hit you.” Y/N said.

“You love me too much to hit me.” Charles said.

“That’s true. Anyway, I have to finish putting the groceries away because someone decided to be a pendejo and prank me. Like why would you prank me? I’m a freaking delight.” Y/N said, walking save to the kitchen

“You pranked me twice, ma Belle!” Charles exclaimed, following her.

“Okay but those were cute pranks, that prank would have ended up with me in jail.” Y/N said, putting the groceries away on the fridge, freezer, and pantry.

“I would never let you go to jail.” Charles said,

“Hey, so while I’m cooking dinner, I’m gonna put on some music, okay.” Y/N said.

“Yeah that’s fine.” Charles said and they kissed. Y/N out her phone on full volume to CUIDADITO by Becky G and Chiquis, singing out loud and specific part.

“Yo no soy celosa pero si eso pasa me transformo en otra. Te poncho las llantas dormirás afuera y esa misma noche le marco a mi suegra para que recoja a la cochinada que un día parió. Te rayo el carro te quiebro los vidrios y voy a llamar a todos mis amigos para que me ayuden que en un pisteada lo arregló yo. Nomas cuidadito con ponerme el cuerno que todo eso lo hago y hasta más me atrevo y no mas te advierto que cuidadito con ponerme el cuerno de la que te salvaste da gracias a dios que nomas fue una broma.” Y/N sung, changing the last two words (which are originally ‘un sueño ’ which means ‘a dream’). I’m not a jealous woman but if that were to happen, I become a different person. I’ll slash your tires, you’ll be sleeping outside, and I’ll call my mother in law that same night to pick up the piece of shit she gave birth to. I’ll key your car, break your windows, and I’ll call my friends so they’ll help me, I’ll handle it in one good beating. If you cheat on me, just be careful because I would do all of that and even more, I’m just warning you to be careful if you cheat on me. You got lucky, thank god it was only just a prank

“Mon ange, what’s that song about?” Charles asked curiously.

“The song is about a women who dreamt that her husband cheated on her. She would have done some crazy shit if he actually cheated her so he’s fucking lucky it was only a dream.” Y/N said with a smile.

“But you sang ‘broma’ and that’s means ‘joke’…” charles said,

“Or prank.” Y/N said,

“You sang that for me?!?” Charles yelled.

“Yes I did so you know, cuidadito.” Y/N warned.

“I Don’t know whether to be scared of you or attracted to you.” Charles confessed and Y/N laughed.

“Both work, mi Amor. You want lomo saltado or tallarines saltado?” Y/N asked.

“Whats the difference?” Charles asked.

“Lomo has French fries and is served with rice, tallarines is pasta.” Y/N said,

“Pasta please.” Charles said,

“Of course, muñeco.” Y/N said, chopping the steak into little strips while humming the music to CUIDADITO and Charles stared at her because he found himself humming too.

“You know I would never cheat on you, right Y/N?” Charles asked just to make sure.

“Of course I know you’d never cheat on me. But the song is so catchy.” Y/N commented and that made Charles feel so much better. He walked up to Y/N and hugged her from behind as she continued to chop the steak, he kissed her shoulder.

“I love you,” Charles said,

“I love you too.” Y/N said,

The End

Hope y’all liked it! A silly little one shot for giggles 🤭

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #wrong name #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

631 notes · View notes

landograndprix · 1 year ago

Text

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l c.s ❞ II

part i - part iii

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ Charles is not trying to do his best to safe your relationship but a new friendship is blossoming between you and lando.

➪ established relationship mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ thank you so much for the love this fic us getting, it honestly was just a silly idea i had, absolutely insane 😭 google translate is my bestest friend

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by landonorris, manon_roux and 412,322 others

y/nusername the day after hits different when you've got a mini you 🍷

tagged: manon_roux, noellepicard

view all 1,523 comments

manon_roux hangover central over here😩

↳ y/nusername I would too if I drank about every drink available

noellepicard nobody told you to down all that tequila

manon_roux thanks for the support you guys

formulaonef1 Manon being the wildest of them all is not something I expected 💀

julieeeexo oh yeah the day after a night out definitely hits different, I know all about it!

charlieferrari zoë with her little bow 😭

hannahh how do you have time to read? I have a 8 month old and I'm barely able to read 2 pages a day!

↳ y/nusername I'm very lucky with a daughter who never skips a single nap and loves her sleep 😅

joris__trouche just like her mother

y/nusername oh definitely 🥰

landonorizzzz the fact that joris has been paying more attention to y/n than I've seen Charles do in the last couple of weeks is fucking hilarious to me

landoscar and its all too much for little zoë leclerc 😴

carlito55 did you and charles break up?

robyn_diaz had so much fun last night, so glad we got ti meet! 🤩

↳ norrizz isn't this lando's gf? 😂

norry4 unfortunately 😂

norrizz unfortunately??

norry4 she didn't really hide the fact that she's dating lando just for her 5 seconds of fame and money 💀

oscarpastry they're robably just fwb, lando said he was single in an interview couple weeks back

noellepicard mom's big night out, great success

landonorris still alive?

↳ y/nusername barely

landonorris I know the feeling

carlandooo lando...what are you doing here? 👀

charlesherve oh god watch this be the new ship of the fandom 🙄

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername posted to their story

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 526,009 others

y/nusername les derniers jours de l'été ☀ (the last days of summer)

tagged: charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc

view 1,562 comments

thurthur gotta love the leclerc family 😭

manon_roux mademoiselle fille passe une journée difficile, je vois 😴 (miss girl having a tough day i see)

↳ y/nusername c'est un travail difficile d'être un bébé (it's a tough job being a baby)

manon_roux ..et quelqu'un doit le faire 🥰 (..and someone's gotta do it)

bott_ass take me to Monaco pls

joris__trouche still not an invite? 😔

↳ sharl16 joris being abandoned by his boyfriend and his boyfriends girlfriend 😔

arthurlec omg arthur and charles 😭

noellepicard j'espère que tu as passé une bonne journée, hottie ❤️ (hope you had a great day, hottie)

↳ y/nusername toujours 😘 (always)

arthur_leclerc you need to lock your phone better

↳ y/nusername or you could leave it alone?

arthur_leclerc yeah but that's not fun ☺

thurthur stop bullying your brothers girlfriend 😭

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y/nusername posted to their story

➽────────────────────────❥

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightfdragon

Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalucinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader @champagneproblems17 @norwayxo @sunny44 @honeymoonelvis47 @forevertcaffeinated-lee @amalialeclerc

Lando taglist: @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2

#charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #lando norris #charles leclerc fanfic #lando norris fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #lando x reader #charles x reader

2K notes · View notes

cherienymphe · 2 years ago

Text

Bubblegum Bitch (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, attempted sexual assault, dumb!reader, bimbo!reader, kook!reader, underage drinking

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies

summary: ...because you’re just too dumb to look out for yourself, Rafe takes matters into his own hands.

You hung onto Sarah as she helped you into her house, your ankle screaming in protest with every movement. You were thinking that maybe you should’ve listened to the blonde when she told you not to climb so high on the rock, but the sunset was too pretty, and you wanted to get the perfect picture. As much as your ankle was hurting, it was kind of worth it.

“Okay, sit here, and I’ll get some ice,” Sarah told you, depositing you on her couch.

“Okay!” you chirped, distracted as you flipped through your phone to study the pictures you took. “They came out so pretty!”

You showed Sarah as she neared, and she sent you a warm smile, a soft chuckle escaping her.

“Yeah, but next time, let’s come up with a less dangerous way to get the pictures,” she advised, bag of ice in hand.

You hissed a bit when the cold touched your skin, relaxing as it started to soothe the ache.

“Your mom would kill me if you got seriously hurt again.”

You knew what Sarah was referring to, of course.

That one time you were at a bonfire and leaned too far over to roast the marshmallows, something that took forever for that particular part of your hair to grow back from. Or that time you weren’t paying attention while dipping some punch at a party, and the glass bowl holding it all fell all over you, shallow cuts adorning your feet for weeks. Your face fell some as you thought about how mad your mom had been at Sarah for not looking out for you better.

It didn’t seem fair to you.

It’s not like you were some kid who couldn’t do anything right.

“It’s just a sprain…I think,” you added, shrugging. “She doesn’t have to know.”

Sarah gave you a look at that, and just then, movement on the stairs caught your attention.

You looked up, eyes landing on a familiar face, and you smiled at the sight of him. Sarah’s brother Rafe was someone you mostly saw in passing. Sometimes you found yourself interacting with him, offering him some of your fries to which he’d dryly decline, or the odd occasion where you were in his way, hurrying to move at the mean sneer on his face. Rafe always seemed to be in a bad mood when you were around, and because Sarah assured you he was just like that, you always tried your best to cheer him up.

“Hey, Rafe,” you called.

Sarah looked over her shoulder at the sound of your voice, huffing to herself. She rolled her eyes as she turned back around, and you blinked at him when he didn’t return your smile. You watched him sigh, ignoring as you he asked Sarah where their parents were.

“Out,” the younger girl quickly replied.

You watched Rafe throw her a look at that before his gaze landed on you again.

“Any reason why she’s here?” he asked, and your brows drew together.

Something about his tone didn’t make you feel good, but you brushed it aside when Sarah just shook her head, quietly telling you to ignore him.

“I do,” she said, standing to her feet. “I’m going to get something to wrap it.”

You smiled at her as she hurried upstairs, and when you looked over, you found Rafe’s gaze on you as he leaned against the kitchen counter. You noticed that he stared at you a lot, especially when Sarah wasn’t around, and you didn’t know why. You watched his blue eyes fall to your ankle where you held the ice, and he brought the beer in his hand up to his lips.

“What happened?” he mumbled around the neck. “Try to walk and chew gum at the same time?”

You blinked, frowning a bit just as he chuckled.

“No?” you replied, confused by the odd comment. “I was taking pictures of the sunset, and I needed to get on some rocks to get a good picture…”

You trailed off when he started to laugh, shaking his head at you.

“Of course, you were,” he slowly commented. “I don’t even know why I asked.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, and you chewed on your lip, glancing away as he continued to eye you.

“Are you going to Topper’s party, tonight? I’m going with Sarah,” you tried to change the subject, smiling at him.

Rafe stared at you in silence for a while, strangely and with a frown on his face. After some time, he scoffed, pushing himself away from the counter, looking at you from beneath his lashes.

“He’s kind of my best friend, Y/N,” he slowly said. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You shuddered at the sound of your name coming from his lips. He always had a way of saying it that made you feel…uneasy. It was like when you drank just enough to feel bad but not enough to ignore it. Your chuckle was light, not thinking of that for some reason, and you nodded.

“That makes sense.”

Rafe was nearing the stairs just as Sarah reappeared at the top of them, and he kept his gaze on you for as long as possible.

“You should probably stay home though,” he threw over his shoulder. “We wouldn’t want you to fall in a hole somewhere after you’ve had too much to drink.”

Your friend hissed his name as she passed him, a deep frown on her face, but Rafe only chuckled to himself. Again, the comment had your mind wandering in confusion. Topper’s mom kept their yard to perfection, and there wasn’t a patch of uneven grass, let alone any holes. Sarah heavily sighed as she neared you with some gauze, mumbling to herself.

“He’s such an ass,” she voiced. “Seriously, just ignore him.”

That was what she always told you, but it was kind of hard to do. Rafe had a way of stealing your attention sometimes whether you wanted to give it or not, and it wasn’t just because he was pretty. He was so different from Sarah, and you guessed he fascinated you in a way. Always so grumpy and unhappy, and it seemed like no matter how much you tried to cheer him up or at least get a smile out of him, it never worked.

…and you didn’t know why.

“Don’t sweat it so much,” Kelce chuckled later that night. “Rafe is Rafe.”

He smiled at you, flicking your chin, and making you join him. Two of his friends were with him, Topper glued to Sarah’s side, and Rafe nowhere to be found. You didn’t remember their names, although you were sure you’d met them before. Their faces did look familiar, after all, and you felt bad about not being able to place them.

They didn’t seem to care much though as they returned your smile.

“That’s a cute dress,” one of them said, reaching out and pulling on the end. “You always wear the cutest stuff though.”

“Isn’t it?” you added, spinning around and making the skirt fly up a bit. “Sarah picked it out!”

“Sarah has great taste,” the other told you, eyes looking over you and admiring the dress.

You imagined he liked the color just as much as you did, and you started telling him about how it was the last one, and Sarah had to almost fight some lady for it. You were taking a sip of your drink when you took a step back, bumping into someone, and you jerked when the cold liquid spilled onto you. You gasped in shock, more than grateful when Kelce grabbed a napkin and started dabbing at the fabric.

“I got it,” you told him, reaching for it instead, but he smiled at you, insisting.

However, another hand came between you and snatched the napkin away. You blinked in shock, looking up just as Rafe’s other hand grabbed your arm, starting to pull you away.

“Hey, Rafe,” Kelce nervously chuckled. “We were just… She had an accident so…”

He trailed off, and you looked between him and Rafe as the blond pulled you away. He gave Kelce a look that you couldn’t place, the other guy and his friends sort of shrinking in on themselves.

“Uh huh,” was all Rafe said, and you stumbled with him in confusion as he led you away.

“What are you doing? Is it Sarah?”

Rafe softly chuckled to himself at that, shaking his head.

“Is it Sarah,” he mumbled, sounding more like a statement. “No, it’s not Sarah.”

He roughly let you go, making you stumble, and you frowned as he threw the napkin at you.

“Here,” he spat, huffing to himself as he looked you over. “Clean yourself up.”

You slowly did as he said, carefully watching him as he watched you, jaw clenching and eyes hard. There was that sour feeling again. Here you were, at a party and surrounded by so many people, but it strangely felt like you and Rafe were the only ones in the room. There was an uneasy feeling in your chest, and you bit your lip.

“Are you…are you mad at me?” you nervously asked.

It was a silly thing to ask because why would Rafe be mad at you? However, his rough treatment wasn’t like him. In fact, you couldn’t ever remember a time where Rafe had so much as touched you. The look he gave you was enough to curdle milk, and when he sighed, your shoulders drooped in relief.

“Nah,” he drawled, lips pressed together as his eyes met yours. “Who could be mad at you? That’d be like getting mad at a child.”

You blinked, but before you could ask him what he meant, he gruffly told you to find Sarah and stay out of trouble. You frowned a bit, still wiping at your dress as you slowly turned and did as he said. When you looked over your shoulder, Rafe was still watching you, and you guessed he wanted to make sure you found Sarah okay.

“…and…just what are you doing?”

You straightened a bit, pushing yourself to your knees as you looked up to find Rafe looking down at you. His face was pinched as he studied you, and you grinned at him, hands resting on your thighs.

“Hey, Rafe!” you suddenly remembered that he’d asked you something. “My phone fell under the couch.”

You gestured to the piece of furniture, and you were just about to bend over again when Rafe reached down to grab your arm, pulling you to your feet. You eyed him as he did the same to you before taking your place. You crossed your arms over your chest, watching him, and your confusion at his strange attitude disappeared when he reemerged with your phone. A delighted gasp left you as you reached for it, pausing when Rafe held it out of reach.

“You know, I think you’d lose your head if it wasn’t attached to your body.”

That was something your mom said often too. His eyes looked between yours, and you swallowed when he moved closer. His chest brushed against yours, and your heart raced.

“Thanks for getting it for me,” you finally said, reaching for it again to no avail.

Confusion filled you.

“If I give it to you, what will you give me?” he murmured, and you blinked, brows raising a bit.

“Well…what do you want?”

Rafe only rolled his eyes at that, chuckling before dropping your phone in your hand. You held it to you just as he moved, and you were startled by the feel of him reaching down and pulling on the end of your skirt, pulling it down some. You hadn’t even noticed that it had ridden up, and you looked at him with a smile, thanking him.

“Where’s Sarah?” he suddenly wondered, plopping down on the same couch you’d just been searching under.

“She said she was on her way, but I think she’s still with Topper.”

You watched Rafe’s blue gaze linger on your legs, and you looked down, fearful that you’d scratched yourself or something in your search for your phone. When you didn’t find anything, your eyes met Rafe’s when you looked up, and you watched the corner of his mouth curve upwards.

“You’re too nice, you know that?”

“Me?” you laughed. “I don’t think so. No nicer than anyone else.”

Rafe snorted at that, and you moved to sit down next to him as you waited for Sarah.

“If it wasn’t for Sarah, so many people on this island would eat you alive, you know.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by that, frowning, and that just seemed to amuse Rafe more. He didn’t elaborate either, opting to run his eyes over you instead, and when they landed on your skirt, he reached over to pull it down where it had ridden up some again. You softly thanked him, and he pointed at you at that, tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek.

“That,” he said, shaking his head. “That is exactly what I’m talking about.”

You curiously eyed him as he stood just as you heard a vehicle in the yard.

“You shouldn’t be thanking me for something like that,” he told you with an unreadable smile. “I might take it the wrong way.”

You watched Rafe’s back as he made his way towards the stairs, only looking away when Sarah rushed in, repeatedly apologizing.

Rafe always said things like that to you, things you didn’t quite understand. To be fair, there were a lot of things you didn’t understand, but especially the things Rafe seemed to say. Why wouldn’t you thank him for making sure your skirt was pulled down? Why would he take that the wrong way? In what way?

When you’d brought it up to Sarah one day, she’d merely scoffed and called him a sick pervert before apologizing again for leaving you alone with him.

“He’s so…sleazy, sometimes, you know?”

You didn’t know, actually. Outside of his mood swings, Rafe was at least respectful to you. At least, you felt like he was, but Sarah talked about her brother like he was the scum of the earth or something. You watched her as she sprawled over her bed, eyes trained on the ceiling.

“One minute, I swear he can’t stand you and then the next it’s like he’s too into what you’re up to.”

You frowned at that, this being news to you, and Sarah seemed to realize what she said. She sighed, pushing herself onto her stomach, and your eyes met hers.

“Rafe doesn’t like me…?”

You weren’t surprised by how much it hurt to hear. Rafe was your best friend’s brother, after all, and while you two weren’t friends, you’d never been anything but nice to him. You always tried to offer him things and ask how he was and smile at him whenever you saw him.

“It’s not that he doesn’t like you,” she confessed, throwing you a sympathetic glance. “He just doesn’t think the best of you.”

You deflated some, frowning as you tried to remember if he’d ever said anything to you that you missed.

“It’s why I hate when he comes around when you’re around. He’s always being an asshole, but don’t take it too personal, okay? He’s an asshole to almost everyone.”

You’d heard that before, but still. You’d never done anything to Rafe, and hearing this made you a little sad because Sarah didn’t even say why he didn’t like you. You sat there, feeling stumped and second guessing everything. Rafe said funny things sometimes at how much pink you wore, or he’d shake his head when some jokes had to be explained to you, and he certainly seemed to get annoyed when he came downstairs to find you bending over in the fridge.

Sarah had assured you though that Rafe was just like that.

When you found yourself at another party, you did your best to stay out of his way. You didn’t want to upset him anymore than you already had, even though you didn’t know how you’d done it. You were with one of Topper’s friends that you’d seen in passing, giggling and struggling to stand with every second that passed. As you finished the last of your drink, he quickly poured you some more, and you pressed your hand to your mouth to keep from burping.

“Sarah’s going to have to carry me home,” you told him, your words coming out more jumbled together than you’d intended.

He laughed at you, an arm snaking around your waist to help you stand. You eyed his dark hair, smiling at how it contrasted with his light eyes.

“I can take you home whenever you’re ready,” he offered, and you felt yourself perk up.

“Really? Oh my God, thank you,” you sighed out. “I always feel so bad when Sarah has to look out for me.”

His pink lips pulled into a smile, and you returned it. It felt like his hand on your waist was the only thing keeping you up, and you leaned into him, feeling beyond grateful.

“You should probably finish your drink before we go though,” he suggested, and you nodded.

He was so nice to get you another, and you didn’t want it to go to waste. He helped you put one foot in front of the other as he led you across the beach and in between the bodies. You stumbled a few times, and you thanked him each time he kept you from falling flat on your face. You asked him how he knew Topper, and when he told you they went to school together, you smacked your forehead.

Almost everyone here went to what some people dubbed as Kook Academy.

“Duh,” you giggled, shaking your head.

You were just about to ask him which car was his when you were ripped away from him. Your eyes widened in shock, and you dropped what was left of your drink as you tripped over your feet. It took you a moment to realize what was going on, and when you glanced up, you smiled at the sight of Rafe. You’d been trying to avoid him for his sake, but you were always happy to see the blond.

“Hi, Rafe!”

He wasn’t looking at you, one hand on your arm and the other pushing against the chest of your new friend. You frowned in confusion as you took in the scene, realizing they didn’t look so friendly, and you noted this was the first time you’d seen Rafe really mad before.

“What the hell, bro?”

You watched Rafe shove him away, the other guy almost falling back.

“Are you crazy? You don’t think I know what you’re trying to do?”

You looked between them, and Rafe didn’t wait around for Topper’s friend to straighten himself up. You had no choice but to follow as he dragged you away, and his fast pace made your head spin even more. You asked him to slow down, but he ignored you, and you could feel your stomach turning. When he made it to the familiar black truck, he practically pushed you inside when he opened the passenger door, and with his hands on the vehicle, he had you trapped.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked, his voice harsher than usual, and your brows knitted together. “Are you that stupid?”

You blinked at him, lips parting, and at that, Rafe slammed the door shut with a shake of his head. You stared at it for a few seconds, only sitting back and slowly putting on your seatbelt as he slid into the driver’s seat. The ride to your house was quiet, and you were reminded of what Sarah had told you. Why didn’t Rafe like you? What had you done now?

He was just as quiet when he made it to your house, and you noticed that your parents weren’t home. You struggled to get your door open, but it didn’t matter much when Rafe was suddenly there, yanking it open…and yanking you out too.

“Ow!”

He didn’t care to be careful, forcing you towards your door, and he snatched your purse before you could. You wrapped your arms around yourself, shuddering at the cool ocean breeze as you stood in your dress, the flowy skirt of it kissing your thighs. When Rafe finally got the door open, he all but shoved you inside, and this time, you did fall.

You whimpered in pain, sitting up to take off your shoes, rubbing your foot just as he slammed your door closed.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he repeated, slower this time as he brought his hands up. “Huh?”

You were drunk and confused, blinking and desperately trying to understand why Rafe was so mad. You’d done your best to avoid him all night—these past few weeks, actually. You didn’t like making anyone mad, especially Rafe considering his relation to Sarah.

“You realize he was going to hurt you, right…?”

You laughed at that, throwing Rafe a frown.

“What? Topper’s friend? No, he-.”

“He what? He plowed you with alcohol—maybe a few drugs—and was just so eager to take you home?”

You hesitated, a frown forming.

“I mean…we were drinking just like everyone else was, and I feel bad when Sarah has to take me home,” you said, much quieter now.

Rafe let out a laugh at that, and you finally decided to try and push yourself to your feet. You stumbled when Rafe neared you, so close, and your eyes widened. Rafe was so close you could feel his body heat, and he gestured to you with both hands as he leaned in.

“He was going to rape you. Do you get that?”

You flinched, chest tightening as you shook your head.

“No, he wouldn’t do that…”

“…and how do you know? You just met him, tonight,” Rafe spat. “You don’t know shit about him!”

You blinked, and you could feel your eyes burning because Rafe was so mad, and you didn’t understand why. Topper’s friend had been nice to you all night, looking after you and getting you drinks and keeping you company. You had the hardest time believing Rafe’s words, and you shook your head.

“He was being nice,” you argued, but Rafe’s anger and harsh words had you doubting that, now.

“…because he wanted to fuck you, you-.”

He cut himself off, heavily exhaling, and he glanced away. You watched him as his eyes fell closed, a bitter chuckle escaping as he shook his head.

“Do you have any idea how crazy you drive me?”

You almost didn’t hear him, and when he turned his cold gaze back to you, you swallowed.

“Are you really that stupid?” he quietly wondered, tapping his temples. “Huh?”

You pressed your lips together, the sound of your heartbeat loud in your ears.

“I’m stretching myself thin here just to make sure all those guys you think are your friends don’t have you lying down in their backseat somewhere…”

“Rafe.”

“…but like the dumb broad that you are, you think they’re being nice and friendly and that they actually care about you outside of what’s under your tiny little dress!”

You looked away.

“Every day I find myself wondering how the fuck did you even graduate? How did you even make it this far on your own?”

You struggled to swallow, your gaze finding the floor.

His words had you shifting on your feet, heart sinking at the familiarity of them. You were never the smartest, you knew that. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried in school, tried to understand things that came so naturally to other people. You remembered your tutors getting so fed up and frustrated, leaning against the hall and listening as they told your mom they didn’t see how you’d ever pass. You remembered enlisting classmates for help before they too gave up and just took pity on you by doing your work for you.

“Hey, it’s okay,” they would tell you with soft smiles. “You really tried, and that’s what really matters.”

You looked up when Rafe huffed again, tears in your eyes. You had no idea that Rafe thought those things too, and you reached up to wipe your eyes.

“I mean, you’re always parading around in this crap that barely covers your ass,” he sneered, gesturing to your dress. “Always smiling and giggling at everyone.”

You sniffed.

“None of those guys are ever laughing with you, they’re laughing at you.”

“Why are you saying this to me?” you whispered.

“…because someone needs to,” he threw back. “…because you’re too fucking dumb to look out for yourself.”

Rafe neared you, reaching out and clutching your dress, yanking you closer.

“Do you know what that guy would’ve done? Hmm?”

You shuddered when his other hand came up to clasp the back of your neck.

“He would’ve gotten you in his backseat, probably wouldn’t have even waited to get you home…”

“Stop,” you pleaded.

“He wouldn’t have listened to a single word you said, too busy trying to get your legs open and his pants off.”

His hold tightened, and you winced, a few tears skipping down your face as he walked forward. He forced you to stumble back.

“He would’ve fucked you even more stupid and-.”

He cut himself off as you hit his chest, lips trembling and desperately trying to keep yourself from crying. You couldn’t stop, and Rafe huffed, rubbing his hands over his head as he let you go. Rafe’s chest was heaving, and when his eyes met yours again, you couldn’t hold his gaze for long.

“You’re so pitiful, you know that?” he murmured, coming near you again. “Every time you open that mouth to say something stupid, I just want to shove my cock in it.”

Your eyes widened at his words, stumbling back when he gripped your roots, scalp stinging.

“…but that’s all you’ll be good for, huh,” he mused, his other hand circling your chin. “To be split open and filled up.”

You reached up, grabbing his wrist, but Rafe didn’t care, leaning in and nipping at your cheek.

“…and if it’s going to be someone, it might as well be me, right?” he breathed, brushing his lips over your trembling ones. “Those other assholes on this island don’t look out for you like I do.”

Rafe wasn’t giving you time to think, and before you could stop him, his mouth covered yours. Rafe deeply inhaled, tongue tasting the inside of your mouth, hand roaming over you, completely ignoring your own as you tried to stop him. He roughly pulled at your dress, and you heard the fabric rip, a noise of protest leaving you.

You thought that Rafe didn’t like you.

It was what Sarah said, and Rafe himself had called you dumb and stupid and every other thing you’d tried to pretend you weren’t. You didn’t always pick up on things, but would Topper’s friend really have hurt you? Rafe was smarter than you, so he would know, right? He’d seemed so sure of it, but as his hands squeezed your frame, you recalled his words.

Wasn’t Rafe doing the same thing?

You gasped when his teeth sank into your neck, and all your breath left you when your back met the floor. You mumbled his name, but Rafe didn’t seem to hear you, yanking your panties down your legs, his own pants partially undone. When his fingers found a home between your legs, you whimpered, jerking at the feel of them sinking into you. He groaned at the feel, and your nails pressed into his arm.

You felt like your brain was short-circuiting, eyes rolling as he thrust them into you, massaging your walls. Rafe hovered over you, his nose brushing yours, and your hands reached out to scrape at the carpet. Your chest arched when Rafe curved them, and he kissed you again, a deep moan leaving him as you clenched around him.

“Rafe, stop-.”

Your words were abruptly cut off when he pressed on your stomach, holding you down, and you trembled, body buzzing. When he pulled them out of you, you felt disappointment, no time to linger on it as the head of him pressed to you. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, and your stomach arched against his firm hand. Your mouth fell open at the stretch, toes curling, and Rafe made a shushing sound.

“You can take it,” he murmured. “Open your legs.”

He rested in between them on his knees, and his free hand was on your thigh, parting them further. A high pitched sigh left you as he filled you to the hilt, fitting snuggly and holding himself inside of you. The turn the night had taken made your head spin, along with the alcohol, and you threw your head back when Rafe’s hand traveled from your stomach, thumb pressing against you.

“You’re so fucking wet,” you heard him groan. “Dripping around me.”

He started to move, pulling out before swiftly pushing his cock back into you, making you squeeze your eyes shut.

“This is all you needed, huh? Someone to fuck your dumb little brains out.”

Your lashes fluttered, and Rafe was blurry through your tears, but as you blinked, he cleared up. He leaned in to press kisses to your face, hips snapping against yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin loud in the living room. You couldn’t focus on much besides Rafe’s cock in you, hands tight on you and holding you in place so he could fuck you like he wanted.

“You know how many times I wanted to bend you over? Wanted to stuff you full of my cock just so you’d shut up?”

You whimpered, hands grasping at his back and arms as he leaned over. His forehead was pressed to yours, one of your knees completely pushed back as he drove himself into you. He was hitting something in you that had your breath hitching with every thrust, and the earlier events of the night were in the very back of your mind.

When he sat up, pushing both of your knees towards your chest, you cried out. You could see his eyes focused on where he disappeared into you, sliding into you and watching the way you dripped around him. You could feel yourself squeezing him, greedily trying to suck him back in, and Rafe chuckled.

“Nothing to say? Too busy taking my cock?”

When you didn’t say anything, he laughed again.

“Hmm?”

You could only bite your lip, chest heaving, and when you looked up, Rafe’s gaze was on your breasts.

“Touch yourself,” he told you, satisfied when you did. “Make them hard for me.”

You were a moaning mess, a fire in your core as Rafe rutted into you. You could hear it, hear the wet sound of you squeezing him and every dip of Rafe’s cock. You softly moaned his name, and Rafe asked you to do it again. Feeling drunk in more ways than one, you did, gasping when he spread your legs again. His arms hooked under your knees, his chest brushing yours, now, and Rafe pressed his face into the crook of your neck.

“Any of those assholes even look at you for more than two seconds, and I’m showing them who you belong to,” he promised.

You could feel your stomach tightening, walls fluttering around him, and you could only lay down and take Rafe’s unrelenting cock.

“This pussy is mine, now,” he breathed. “No more leaving the house like you do without me.”

“Rafe,” you gasped, breath hitching. “I’m going to…”

You trailed off, losing your breath, and Rafe kissed the corner of your mouth.

“You’re gonna come? Yeah?”

You nodded, lips parted.

“So, I should probably keep going, huh?”

“Uh huh.”

“What if I just stopped?”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“No,” you desperately argued. “Please-.”

“You wanna come?”

“Yes…please,” you moaned.

You could feel his eyes on your face as he lifted his head.

“Look at you,” he whispered. “So hungry for my cock. Can’t even keep your eyes open.”

You didn’t have the mind to argue with him, squeezing him and loving the way he stretched you out.

“This is right where you belong. Spread open and desperate for me,” he hummed, pressing open mouthed kisses to your neck. “My dumb baby girl, only good for milking me dry.”

He continued when all you could do was whimper.

“Isn’t that right?”

At your silence, Rafe stopped, only the tip of him remaining. You tried to lift your hips, fucking yourself onto him, but from this position, with his arms keeping your knees bent back, you couldn’t. You whined, tears kissing your eyes as your chest heaved against his. You frantically nodded, another whiny moan escaping.

“Yes,” you breathlessly gave in. “Yes, yes.”

Rafe snapped his hips against yours again, smoothly thrusting into you, and you came around him with a cry. You couldn’t keep quiet, gasping and moaning as Rafe fucked you through your high. He held you in place, body trembling underneath him, and Rafe groaned when he started coming too, spilling into you. A light sheen of sweat coated both your frames, and you shuddered when he pulled out of you.

You felt completely worn out as he crawled over you, and his hand circled your chin, lifting it. The head of him pushed past your lips, and he groaned when he softly told you to clean him up. His eyes met yours as you looked up at him, lips wrapped around him as he reached down to brush the dampness from your cheek.

“Do a good job, and I might clean you up too.”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron #obx #obx fic #obx imagine #Outer Banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine

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honey-flustered · 2 months ago

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Kinkmas Day 2: Cunnilingus + Aftercare

Soccer Player!Cocky!Robin Buckley x Catholic!Cheerleader!Reader

Roommates/Enemies to Lovers

Summary: based on a tiktok meme i saw: “my roommate found out i was gay and started reading me bible verses” -> “eat her out”

Warnings: girl on girl (duh), closeted!reader, virgin!reader, light humor, bimbo!reader, meangirl!reader, perv!flirty!robin, robin calls reader per names (angel, cupcake, etc) internalized homophobia, all girls catholic school, blasphemy, religious themes, oral sex, if you squint dub con, come eating, fingering, nipple play, anal play, kissing, robin talks about her parents sending her to catholic school for conversion, fluffy aftercare

A/N: 1st image @/abbighy, 3rd image @/momoiro_lys (i don’t own any of the images above) this was fun and self indulgent. Some aspiring dynamics from elphaba and glinda.

“I can’t believe your parents are making you go to an all girls catholic university. When you should be going to university with me.” Steve grumbles

“Aww, you gonna miss me, buddy? Don’t worry you can still visit and call me whenever you like…at least when I’m not getting laid.” Robin says, patting his back.

“I know I can but I just hate that you’ll be living the dream without me,” He sighs. “An all girls school? These are gonna be the best years of your life. Meanwhile, I’ve got a roommate that’s had a sock on our dorm’s doorknob for 2 nights straight. Do you know how humbling an experience that is for me? Me, King Steve.”

“Yeah, yeah. King Steve,” Robin waves off. “To be fair, I don’t even know what my roommate’s like and, with the luck I’ve got, she probably sucks so hard.”

“But she’s a girl…with boobies.” Steve emphasizes.

“Gah, you know I hate that word. Tits is more like it.” She quips.

Dragging Robin’s belongings down the hallway of the building, Steve and Robin could already see the wandering eyes of the students who couldn’t decide whether to thirst for him or her. They finally reach the room door, Robin putting a key to the door and praying silently for a decent roommate.

The two of them enter, greeted by you as you struggle to place a box onto the top of your closet. Robin couldn’t deny that she found you quite pretty. Maybe a bit too much pink for her liking but you wear it well.

Stepping forward, she takes the box from behind you and puts it in its intended position. You look up at her with big eyes before turning to fully face her.

“Thank you.” You say.

“You got it, angel.” She winks.

You clear your throat, adjusting your clothes and distancing yourself from her. “You must be my new roommate. It’s a pleasure meeting you. I’m (name), new head captain of the Hawkins Saints cheer squad. Niece of the renowned Priest of the Eden’s Holy Children Temple. Oh, I also am the top student of this school.”

You finish, three of you all staring in awkward silence as you await for her to introduce herself.

“Oh, right…umm, I’m Robin Buckley.”

“Yes, and…”

“We’re currently on the moon.” Robin says.

“What?” You ask, scoldingly perplexed.

“Sorry, thought we were doing a whole improv thing.” She replies.

“I’m confused. Are you a comedian?”

“No, I’m just…Robin.”

“And I’m Steve.” Steve says with his hand raised, reminding you two of his presence.

“Oh,” You say in a disappointed tone. “How…ordinary. Not a bad thing just…okay.”

Robin presses her tongue against her cheek. She usually doesn’t mind being called basic, it meant nothing to her but hearing it from your mouth in such a condescending tone made her blood boil just a little.

Her eyes scan your side of the room, landing on the “eat, pray, love” wall art above your computer desk.

“Really?” Robin questions, raising an eyebrow.

“My mother gave it to me.” You say, face heating up.

“Whatever you say, angel.” She smirks, brushing past you towards her side of the room. It’s quite small in comparison to your side because you’d taken up most of the space with your things.

“Geez, is this really it?” Steve asks.

Robin projects her voice as she answers Steve, wanting to make sure you heard her. “No! Because she’s 100% going to be a good girl and remove the rest of her things from my side by tonight.”

“I can hear you just fine, Buckley.” Steve says, not catching Robin’s angle.

“I’m sorry, were you talking to me?” You ask nonchalantly. You’re sitting at your vanity table, applying makeup without a care in the world.

“When are you planning to remove your things so I can properly settle in?” She asks, crossing her arms.

You roll your eyes, standing on your feet to approach, your arms also crossed. “I already did. What do you think that box up there is for?”

“There were only like 3 pairs of shoes in that thing.”

“Wrong! 5.” You correct.

Steve has never seen Robin standing firm in a confrontation. You must’ve really gotten under her skin and he’s starting to think that maybe he doesn’t have it so bad.

“Fine, you don’t want to remove your things. I guess there’ll just have to be some overlap, hmm?” Robin says, sending you a mischievous grin.

Going over to her bed, Robin rummages through her suitcase to pull out a rainbow flag before skipping over to your side to place over the “eat, pray, love” sign.

“Hey! You can’t do that or hang up that flag here. You’ll be in big trouble.” You exclaim.

“Then, try not to run your mouth to the feds. ‘Kay, gorgeous?” Robin says continue to pin up the flag.

“You take that down from my side.” You hiss, going on your tiptoes to claw at it. Robin is currently kneeling on top of your computer desk so you had no way of reaching her which made things all the more entertaining.

“You gonna remove your shit?” She asks.

“Yes.” You huff.

“Say it,” She taunts. “Say you’ll remove your shit.”

“I’ll remove my things. There I said it.” You pout with a defeated stomp.

“D’awww, miss goody two shoes refuses to curse?”

“My mouth isn’t meant for such vulgar things.” You reply, turning your nose up at her.

“Can’t say the same for myself, angel,” She quips, hopping off your computer desk. “Alright, I’m done teasing you. It’s been really fun though. Let’s do this some other time. My side of the room, maybe?”

You glare at her as she makes her way over to her friend, with him giving her a little nudge of approval.

———

After a long day of practice, you sorely trudge up to your dorm room. Your eyes are heavy from fatigue as you turn the key and swing the door open, only to be met with a sinful sight.

Robin and a fellow teammate, still dressed in their soccer uniforms, were making out in her bed. Robin’s hand was down the girl’s tight shorts as she moaned against her lips, grinding down on her hands.

You’re frozen, watching in both horror and intrigue as the girl pants hotly and heavily into the still air. Shaking out of the trance, you announce your presence with a drop of your purse onto your furry rug.

The girl quickly jumps away, ashamed but Robin is clearly amused.

“Um, I-I’ll see you tomorrow in Statistics, Robin.” She whispers, before quickly rushing out the room with her things.

“Just how many girl kissers are on this campus?” You scoff.

“More than you think.” Robin answers.

“This campus needs the fear of God. I’ll be praying for its salvation,” You reply before looking Robin up and down. “And maybe yours.”

“Am I finally touching a soft spot? Cause it sounds like you don’t want me going to hell,” Robin smirks, removing her knee high socks. “You’ll miss me too much I guess.”

“Puh-lease, you aren’t touching any part of me,” You snort. “I just feel compelled to pray for those who are lost. Maybe one day, you’ll see the light.”

Robin makes a show of her licking her fingers clean before she answers with a slick comment. “I’ve seen it plenty.”

“You don’t mind if I hit showers before you, right?” Robin says.

“Why hadn’t you done that before I got here?” You say through gritted teeth.

“Well, I was planning to do just that but Vickie and I got a little carried away—”

“Fine, just go.” You interject.

“You really are an angel, angel.” She praises, walking into the bathroom with a sway of her hips.

————

Robin is busy snoring away in peaceful slumber when she’s rudely awoken by your prayer. Usually it never bothers her but when you’re literally sat 3 feet away from her, that becomes her problem.

“What are you doing on my side?” Robin inquires, rubbing her eyes.

She noticed the way your thigh clenched a little at the rasp in her voice. You’re clearly not immune to attraction as sexless and sinless as you may seem.

“I’m praying for your salvation as I said I would.” You say.

“You couldn’t do that from your part of the room?” She asks.

“Well, how else am I supposed to reach you? I’m ensuring the connection’s strong enough.” You say.

“Is that so?” She asks, cocking her head to the side. “This isn’t some kind of excuse for you to be near me?”

“W-why would I want to be near you? I wouldn’t want to be at risk of you falling in love with me or something.” You say, face heating up.

“You must have some kind of magical pot of gold between your legs to make me want to fall for you, cupcake. No offense but I’m not exactly into the spoiled, holier than thou types.”

You gasp. “Well, if I were into girls, I wouldn’t want you because you’re unserious all the time and crass.”

“Someone’s got to be around here,” She says, throwing her hands up. “It’s like you all walk around like you suck on lemons for the hell of it. Maybe instead try sucking on my stra—“

“John 3 verse 16, ‘For god so loved the world…’” You begin.

“What…are you doing?”

“Reciting the bible,” You explain before continuing. “‘…that he gave his only begotten son, that whoever believes in him should not perish—”

“I’m going back to sleep, angel. Wake me up when you’re done spiraling at the thought of girls liking girls.” She mutters, laying her head back against her pillow.

“I won’t give up on you, Buckley. God has plans for all us and I’m sure he has one especially for you,” You say, plopping down on her bed. “Why, you could be anything in his eyes. Touching the hearts of people in even as insignificant as your career as either a retail associate, or a retail supervisor, or a retail store manager—“

“Why am I only working in retail?” Robin asks knowing she should regret speaking with you any further.

“Aren’t you majoring in services?”

“Public relations.”

“Is that not the same thing?” You ask, batting your lashes in a daze.

“Go to bed, angel. Unless you’re looking to share a bed with me.”

“In your dreams.” You say.

“Then, leave me alone.” She says before flopping back against her pillows to rest.

————

You approach Robin on the field with a beaming smile, shaking your pom-poms in her face. “Buckley, you were super interactive in bible study today. I bet you’ve been feeling different lately. You can thank my prayers for that.”

“Huh? I was wondering why I’ve been a lot gayer lately. Guess I really do have you to thank,” She jokes. “I was only interacting because I wanted the participation points by the way.”

“Why do you insist on resisting?” You say, putting your foot down.

“Funny, I could ask you the same thing.” She scoffs.

“I’ll have you know that I’m not…” Your words begin to drift tune at for a moment as Robin catches a glimpse of one of the clumsier teammates, Amy, attempting to kick a goal into the net. The ball completely misses its mark before heading towards the back of your head.

Obliviously, you continue to rant until Robin’s sudden catching of the ball makes you jump at her quick reflexes. You’re hyperventilating, looking her up in her eyes with a timid look. She holds the ball in between your bodies.

“You were saying, angel?”

“W-we’re continuing this discussion in our dorm.” You say.

“I’ll be counting down the minutes.” She says sarcastically.

You angrily stomp away and she quickly turns to join her team but for a moment, at the exact same time, the two of you look back at one another; lingering stares.

————

Robin is busy reading her book on her bed when she hears you sobbing in the bathroom. When you enter your shared bedroom once again, you attempt to hide your face and discreetly wipe your tears. Placing the book down, she looks at you with concern in her eyes.

“Hey, angel. Everything okay?”

“Like you care.” You say dryly.

“I care,” She says softly, patting the empty space beside her. “Come on up. I’m known to be a very good listener. My friend Stephen says so.”

You sniffle. “I thought his name was Steve.”

“What are we talking about again?” Robin quips.

“You have a strange sense of humor.” You laugh, climbing in the spot beside her.

“So I’ve been told,” She grins. “Now who’s got you, the ice queen, crying?”

“You’ll pay for that nickname,” You say an empty threat before explaining. “It’s my parents. For the second time in a row, they won’t be coming to family day here. Plenty of times they’ve cancelled on very important events of mine but still I could never get used to it. I’m just so tired of being alone at a Barnes & Nobles all day just so I could avoid anyone from asking me about my family.”

“I’m really sorry,” She says sincerely, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “If it’s any comfort, all parents suck. Mine sent me here because they refuse to accept who I am. They think it’s all a phase and that this school will ‘fix’ me.”

“Maybe they just wanted the best for you.”

“What’s best for me is that I get to be me…not what they think I should be,” Robin argues. “Who am I kidding? You wouldn’t get it. Little miss perfect over here.”

“I’m not perfect but my god is—

“Oh for the love of—“

“Proverbs 3 verses 5 through 6…”

“This again?”

“It says ‘trust in the lord—“

“Yeah I really don’t care what it says.” She dismisses, reaching over you for her book. The sudden proximity of your bodies, reminds her of the heat radiating from you. You’re abnormally hot. Feverish yet no actual fever. She looks into your eyes and you stare back into her big blue ones. Her eyes dart down to your lips as if to tell you of her plans and like a magnet your lips draw near. Just as they’re about to collide, you pull away at the last second.

“I’m going to read the bible before bedtime,” You announce, standing on your feet. “Have a goodnight.”

She remains in position still taking in what just happened but you refuse to let it sink in, going over to your bed.

Flipping to a random chapter, you force yourself to focus on your reading out loud, hoping it could take the urge to kiss her away. But when you find her making her way towards you, you don’t bring your eyes on her. Instead, you keep them on the page as she begins to tug your shorts down.

She pulls you by your legs, sliding you down the mattress just enough to pry your legs apart. Your pussy is still clothed, the white lace—a thin barrier from her eager tongue lips and pouty lips. She licks an experimental swipe of her tongue along the gusset, tasting the juices that soaked through them.

She groans, placing butterfly kisses along your inner thighs. The bible has long fallen between your fingers as they now take home in her dirty blonde hair, gripping the strands as you grind against her face.

“Can I take these off?” She asks.

“Mmm.” You answer, teeth still biting your bottom lip. You expect her to carry a smirk on her face at your permission, as if she’d won some kind of game. Instead, all that she holds in her features is gratitude as she drags your panties slowly down your clean shaven legs.

She stares down at your glistening pussy, creamy juices seeping and collecting at the edges of your plump lips like a divine dew.

She greedily licks at it with her tongue, eyes focusing on you as she does so and you whine at this. It’s erotic. It’s alluring. How could something this good be considered bad?

She curls her arms around your thick thighs, fingers sinking into the fat of it as she hungrily indulges herself in you.

“You taste even better than I could’ve ever imagined.” She moans.

“You’ve thought about doing this with me?” You ask, breath hitching when her lips close around your throbbing clit.

“More times than I can keep track of.” She admits, whispering softly against your sensitive cunt, circling the bud with her tongue.

“I’ve never done this before. Not with anyone.” You gasp.

“No wonder you taste as sweet as cherry pie.” Robin comments, eating you with more ferocity at your admission.

Now you understand why the girl breathed as if she were losing air. Every breath you take is stolen with every lap of Robin’s tongue. Oh, and when she pushes it inside your hole is when you really begin to whine out in pleasure.

“So good, Robin,” You mewl. “Never felt like this before. Never ever.”

She dips her tongue low enough to play with your puckered hole for a little, adding a finger into the mix. You squeal at the sudden intrusion before moaning at the combination of her mouth eating your meaty cunt while her finger twisted and thrusted inside your ass.

Your legs begin to shake, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “I think I’m gonna cum. Fuck, Robin. Please.”

Her free hand creeps up your stomach, pulling up your tank top over your breasts and exposing them for her to play and pluck at the hardened buds.

“Oh my god, oh my god.” You moan, surprised at yourself. You’ve cursed and now you’re taking the lord’s name in vain.

“Mmm, you’re close. Aren’t you, angel? You’re soaking and your legs can barely stay apart,” Robin coos, kneading your thighs before prying them apart again. “You gonna be a good girl and keep your legs apart while I make you cum for me.”

“Y-yes, baby.” You answer, letting her push your legs closer to your body as you held them by the backs of your knees.

She’s even nastier with devouring you, wiggling her tongue about and making the sloppiest noises possible. If anyone were to put their ear to the door, there would be no denying the activity.

“Oh fuck, I’m cumming, Robin. I’m fucking cumming. Shiiiiit.” You cry, feeling yourself squeeze around your plunging tongue and coating it further with your honeyed essence.

She collects it all with devotion for you, getting herself off as her ass rests high in the air, throbbing pussy soaking through the material of her own pajama pants.

You shake violently as she continues to drink you in through your convulsions. You eventually force her away and she gets the memo, licking her lips and fingers as if you were the best meal she’s had in a while.

“Fuck, that was good.” She laughs, laying beside you.

You get a wicked plan and jump in between her legs with the enthusiasm of a puppy, tugging at her pants.

“Could I maybe return the favor? I can’t guarantee I’ll be as talented as you but I’m willing to learn.” You say but just the moment after you finish your sentence her lips are on yours and you get a taste of yourself. It’s an addicting mix of her and you that you fear you’ll crave everyday.

“Maybe another time. You deserve some rest,” Robin says, brushing a strand from your face and kissing the top of your forehead.

She goes to the bathroom, retrieving a washcloth to clean the sticky mess between your thighs. She also gathers some mouthwash for the two of you to wash out the aftertaste and though you’re reluctant to do so in your usual bratty fashion, wanting to savor the taste. You eventually comply, though. Lastly, she grabs a clean pair of underwear for you to wear before she’s taking you into her arms again and cuddling you into the cold winter night. And neither of you are willing to let go.

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