#christian bolte
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dashalbrundezimmer · 6 days ago
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streetart // wuppertal
1 - dominik hebestreit (birne)
2 - dominik hebestreit (birne)
3 - atelier gazel
4 - marc stania
5 - martin rybacki
6 - thomas kubig
7 - marko leckzut
8 - martin heuwold
9 - unknown
10 - martin heuwold (megx)
11 -15 seifenkistenrennen by birne, christian bolte, martin heuwold (megx), felix gephart, matthias gephart, angus78, crille, sprayboy 69 , flying förtress.
16 - unknown
17 - identity by medianeras
18 - dominion by nils westergard
wuppertal is probably better known for its suspension railway than for street art, but there are some remarkable and diverse works on site.
wuppertal ist wahrscheinlich eher für seine schwebebahn bekannt als für streetart, aber es finden sich durchaus sehr beachtliche und vielfältige werke vor ort.
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theprodigxl-daughter · 5 months ago
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A goodbye (but not a sad one!!!!)
I've been on antidepressants for almost a year now. This is the first year of my life in many, many years where I've been, genuinely, enjoying life. And, even in the moments where things are Not Great, I still feel great because I'm not constantly trying to off myself.
And it's not just the meds. I've been more in contact with my friends, I'm going out, meeting people. I'm getting the opportunity to be a young woman in my early twenties, to drink and wake up in the morning kind of regretting staying out late, but still having so. much. fun.
I still go to church, sometimes. Because it doesn't bother me anymore, because I can sit there, finally comfortable in my own skin, knowing that I know who I am and what I believe and that's enough.
And all of that has got me thinking: this is truly the only life that I have. There's no way of knowing what comes after this.
And I finally feel safe enough to feel really fucking great to affirm that there is no way that I'm going to spend the only life that I know I have denying myself of all the joys that exist in being a human being. I don't want to spend my days thinking of all the ways I was made wrong. Of all my shortcomings. Days of Making myself little, so He can be Great.
Which is why I think I'm ready to let go of this blog.
I created this space when I was feeling so much rage, so much sadness, and I needed community. And I got that, I truly did! I never really interacted much, but it was so great to know that I wasn't alone in my feelings.
This space means so much to me, because not only it helped me heal, but it's also proof that, yeah, I didn't think I would, but I survived.
I've been thinking of this for a while, and this post was supposed to be just this: a rant. But I feel like, in order to continue, I need to put some things behind, which includes my lovely blog.
I don't know if anyone cares, but I felt like I needed to say goodbye. I've been here for a while, and I've seen people come, and go, and I know I remember people and still check their blogs even when they disappear, so to anyone that might remember me and come across this blog:
I was here. I stayed, and it hurt so much, and I thought this kind of suffering would be never ending. And it wasn't. So I left.
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blackswanmots · 9 months ago
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no personal hate to anyone but ye jo log hai jo apne insta bio mai ‘कट्टर हिंदू’, ‘जय श्री राम’, etc etc. likhte hai, agar inse Ramayan, Mahabharat, Bhagwad Geeta- se kuch pooch liya jaye to shayad silence ya fir faltu bakwaas/arguments ke alawa aur kuch nhi hoga batane ko
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Black Bolt by Christian Ward
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donut-rambles · 2 years ago
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extraordinary-heroes · 2 years ago
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Black Bolt #10 (Cover art by Christian Ward)
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boltlightning · 10 months ago
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would you believe me if i told you this scene changed the trajectory of my life
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classicartverso · 1 year ago
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Christian Ward - Captain America vs Black Bolt
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samasmith23 · 1 year ago
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Lol! Between Jason Aaron's Thor run & Saladin Ahmed's Black Bolt maxiseries, are absurd close-up butt-shots just a reoccurring trend with Titania’s character now?
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From Thor (2014) #5 by Jason Aaron & Jorge Molina, and Black Bolt (2017) #9 by Saladin Ahmed & Christian Ward.
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cressidagrey · 1 month ago
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Such A Mystery - Part 8
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)
Summary:
Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.
Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  
The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 
Warnings: 
Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this.
Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 8 of...who knows.
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Sadly, Max didn’t get to push George Russell of the track. Instead he accidentally hit Oscar in the first corner, which definitely hadn’t been on purpose…and also resulted in another penalty point and a 10 second penalty.
He was really done with this season.
At the same time, Charles carved his way up from P19 to P2 in which, what Max was pretty sure, could only be described as going on the warpath. Max was honestly just impressed at the speed with which Charles had managed to claw himself up to P2, and he would have applauded the effort if he hadn’t been so damn frustrated with everything else.
At this point, he just wanted to get the race done and over with and go home. He'd have time to worry about the penalty later - he just wanted to get this race over the finish line so that he could get a flight to Monaco and to Colette.
With that thought in mind, the last 12 laps went by in a blur, and it felt like no time at all until the checkered flag appeared.
For the first time all season, Max didn’t bother trying to push beyond the limit for an extra few seconds of time.Because quite frankly, it didn’t actually matter.
McLaren had gotten the constructor championship for the first time in 26 years.
"t may not have been the fastest race but I just wanted to say a big thank you for the season, guys. It hasn’t been easy at times, we still have quite a few things to improve on but we still won a world championship.  So, thank you for all the hard work the whole year," Max said into the radio. "Enjoy your time off and then we’ll go back at it again next year. Thank you, guys."
And now Max finally got to go home to Colette.
GP's voice came over the radio. "Get weighed and then we need you to come into the garage as quickly as possible, Max." 
Max furrowed his brows at the words. That was…odd. Why would he need to go to the garage immediately?
"Is everything alright?" he demanded. 
GP didn’t answer immediately, which did nothing to diminish Max’s worry.
His heart skipped a beat when the engineer finally responded, hesitantly. “Just come to the garage, please. Quickly.”He had wanted to apologise to Oscar about their incident in the first corner at the start, but that was quickly forgotten, at the tone in GP's voice.
It sounded alarmed and anxious, and that got Max's heart racing. Something was wrong, something was wrong, and he needed to get to the garage to find out what it was.
It took him an incredible amount of self-restraint not to outright bolt out of the car and charge into the garage, but he somehow managed to get out of the car, weighed himself in and all but dashed towards the garage.
"GP?!" he called out as he stormed into the garage. "What the hell is going on? What’s wrong? Why-"
GP was the one who dragged him into one of the side rooms, where no cameras would see the exchange that followed. There was Christian waiting, as well as his father. 
This wasn't good.
The sight was alarming enough to make him freeze. His heart seemed to skip a beat.
"I-” Max cut himself off, staring at the three men. "What- what's going on?"
"Colette is in labour," Christian answered. "Her brother Arthur texted me. Your pilot filed flight plans thirty minutes ago. There is a car waiting to take you to the airport."
For a moment, Max’s brain just froze altogether, his thoughts screeching to a halt.
His vision wavered as the words echoed in his head, and he had to reach out and grab a hold of the wall next to him as his legs tried to buckle.
He couldn’t have read those words right. There was no way - she had four more weeks. They had more time, Colette couldn’t be in labour.
But it was GP's voice that was cutting through the fog in his head. “Max.  Are you with us?”
Max had to take a deep breath, forcing his mind into action.
"Yeah," he heard himself croak out. The only thought in his mind was that he had to get to the airport. He had to get home as fast as he possibly could.
“We need to get Charles," he demanded. “I don’t care how you do it. I’ll pay whatever ridiculous fine the FIA demands. But if he finds out I left without him, he’s going to kill me.”
There was no doubt about that. 
Max was dimly aware that all three men were looking at him with varying levels of sympathy - but he didn’t care. He only had one thought in his mind, and that was getting to Colette as soon as goddamn possible.
"Gemma is getting him right now," Christian promised him. "I already talked with Ferrari...or screamed at them, that is more likely. So did Arthur apparently. I need to warn you though, the press is swarming outside, especially after your father's little interview," he said darkly.
"What interview?" Max asked, staring at his father. What interview were they talking about?!
"I talked to Sky News about your anger issues," his father said drily.
"Correction," GP snapped. "You told Sky News that Colette and Max are a couple and that their baby is due any day."
It took a moment for the words to sink in, and they were like a punch to the gut. His father had done what?
"You told the damn media she’s having our baby?" he exclaimed, staring at the older man. "Have you completely lost your mind?!"
"No, I merely said it’s due any day," Jos snapped. "Not that it's actually on the way. Calm down, I only said it because you need to stop denying that you two are an item, it’s getting ridiculous!"
Max honestly didn’t even know how to react to the words. Normally, he would’ve been furious right now. His father had just gone and announced their private life to the entire world. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the fact that Colette was currently in labour…
"He also said and I quote It took them long enough, they definitely practiced enough!" GP snapped, looking and sounding more furious than Max had ever seen him before. 
For a moment, Max almost choked and he whirled to his father, his eyes wide. "You-" the words got stuck in his throat. "We’ve been trying for nearly three years. Colette had two miscarriages!"
All of a sudden, the anger that had been boiling inside of Max just evaporated into thin air, leaving only cold, burning rage behind. He took a shuddering breath, his whole body trembling violently. "How. Dare. You," he spat. Even he was surprised how menacing it sounded, but he was also way beyond caring.
"You never said," his father said, nearly silently.
“Clearly I had a good reason,” Max bit out. “We lost two babies. And you are telling us that we took our time? How. Dare. You."
There was a flicker of something in his father’s eyes, which looked awfully similar to pain and regret, but Max was far too furious to care about some kind of guilt.
"You have no right-" he bit out, his voice trembling with anger, "No right to talk or say anything about-"
"It was already out anyway," his father defended himself.
The words made Max freeze again, and he slowly straightened, the cold fury rushing through his veins and making him feel lightheaded. He clenched his jaw, fighting to find the right words, even if he was pretty sure he was about to completely lose it.
“Another word. About her, about our baby. About either of them,” he snarled, his words low and dripping with venom. “ And I will have absolutely no problem with completely and permanently cutting you out of my life, vader.  You’ll be dead to me. To Colette. To our baby. Is. That. Clear? Colette is not something that we are going to negotiate about. It didn’t work when I was 15. It‘s not working now!"
Surprisingly enough, Jos didn’t reply. The only sound in the room was of Max’s ragged breathing.
He didn’t notice Christian’s worried glance in his direction, but GP’s low and quiet voice cut through his thoughts. "Max."
Max flinched, and he forced himself to get a grip. For a half a second, he couldn’t bring himself to turn to look at the people around him.
Finally, he straightened, forcing his legs to move and his mouth to form a response. “Yeah.”
“There is a car waiting. Go,” GP told him calmly. There really wasn’t any reason to linger, and if he were to say anything else, he was in serious risk of exploding.
Max took a deep breath and moved towards the door, the need to see Colette driving every thought out of his mind.
All the anger and adrenaline made it very easy to push through the hoard of reporters and journalists waiting just outside the garage, his mind laser focused.
There were cameras flashing and reporters shouting questions, but he ignored them all. His only priority was to get to Colette.
At the same time as his single-minded determination helped him to power through the throng of people and reach the car waiting for him, his mind was also whirling with a thousand different questions.
What happens if the baby came right now? What if something went wrong? What if-
***
Charles had known that something was wrong. But then...he had been having that feeling for days. Colette was feeling anxious and scared and angry and a thousand other things and Charles would have known that she was feeling that way, even if he hadn't texted her. 
They had always known if something was wrong with each other. They had always known what the other one was feeling.
That had always been their connection…He loved his brothers more than anything. He did. But they weren’t Colette. They weren’t his twin sister. 
Two lives, two halves of one whole. He would never feel complete without Colette. 
Charles could always tell if something was wrong with his twin. And for days now, something had been very, very wrong.
And still he had soldiered on. He had dragged his car from P19 up to P3. Just behind Carlos...two podiums for Ferrari but not enough to clinch the constructor's championship.
He had only done so because he had known that Colette was never gonna let him hear the end of it if he didn't do his very best.
Just like she had been with him during that Formula 2 race less than 48 hours after their father had died…and she had told him to get into that damn car and race in circles, she had done the same this time. 
And he had listened. 
Of course, he had. 
Still...he had never been more thankful that a Race was over than he was of this one. He was just happy that it was over. 
He followed along to the cooldown room on autopilot, Lando already, then Carlos following after him.
The absolute drama that went down there next...well, it simply started with a commotion. And screaming.
The next things they knew, there was Camilla, PR from Ferrari, in what could only be described as a screaming match with Gemma from Red Bull...with security following along as Gemma more or less threw herself into the cooldown room, completely ignoring what anybody else was telling her. 
Charles stared, utterly bewildered. What the hell was going on here? 
Why was Gemma here, literally shoving her way into the cooldown room and throwing herself at him, security struggling to stop her?
"He deserves to know!" Gemma snapped at Camilla. "You cannot keep this from him! This is about his family. We have tried to talk to Ferrari, you are either ignoring our calls or telling us that there is no way you'll tell him until after the interviews are done. What is wrong with you?"
“What the hell is going on?” Charles managed to finally find his voice. What was happening? What were they talking about? What the hell was wrong with Ferrari? "Someone, anyone, give me an answer!"
The only person who seemed willing to answer was Camilla and the look on her face was completely unapologetic. "You are a Ferrari driver," she said simply, as if that explained everything. "There is nothing that goes on with you while you are driving that takes precedence over your job."
"He isn't driving now," Gemma snapped, as she turned towards Charles. "Your sister is in the hospital. Max's pilot has filed flight plans. There is a car waiting to bring you both back to Monaco."
That got Charles' attention like nothing else would have done. In one second, he went from baffled confusion to absolute shock and alarm. His eyes widened, his heart beginning to pound as adrenaline and fear suddenly flooded his system. "She's...she's...what?" he asked hoarsely.
"In the hospital," Gemma repeated, giving him a pointed look.
"What happened?" Lando demanded suddenly. "Is Colette alright?"
"Is something wrong with the baby?" Charles choked out. 
With the baby. No. No. Not again. 
He had seen his sister utterly heartbroken twice about her two miscarriages. 
And these two miscarriages had been horrible. Heartbreaking. Devastating. Had destroyed her. But they hadn't been...They had been early on in the pregnancy.
They hadn't been after Colette had spent months pouring over baby name books and buying things for the nursery, after she had let him feel the baby kick in her belly...after...after all of this...
"What baby?!" Lando blurted out suddenly, but Charles ignroe that. 
"Max's pilot has filed flight plans. There is a car waiting to bring you both back to Monaco," Gemma repeated. "But you need to come with me now, Charles.” 
"He's not coming with you!" Camilla snapped. "Charles has media obligations!"
"I don't give a fuck about my media obligations!" Charles snapped back at her. He was literally shaking with the sheer strength of his anger. "My sister is in the hospital! I am going. Now."
Charles didn't wait for a response. He was already headed towards the exit, his blood thundering in his ears as confusion and fear and anger raced through his body. The only thing that was going through his head was Colette was in the hospital, Colette was in the hospital, Colette. was. In. The. Hospital.
If anybody tried to stop him now, he would have absolutely no problem going straight through them.
"You are a Ferrari driver," Camilla growled.
"And," Charles snarled, whipping around to look at her. "I am a brother. And a twin. And she is my other half. She is in the damn hospital, and you tried to keep that information from me. What, did Ferrari think that I just wouldn’t care?"
That seemed to render her speechless for a moment, but only for a moment. "We believed," she said coldly, with an undercurrent of anger beneath. "That you would remain professional and focus on your job as you were paid to do so."
"Are you serious?" Lando snapped at that moment. "His sister is in the hospital and you want him to do interviews!?"
"I was not speaking to you, Norris," Camilla said, in a voice that could freeze water. "It is none of your business. We are trying to deal with a delicate public relations issue here that you don't understand."
"I have sisters too," Carlos snapped. "And you better believe that if one of them was in the hospital, I would be there too." 
"Go," Lando told Charles at that moment. "GO."
Charles didn't need to be told twice. He was already halfway out the door. There was only one thought on his mind. Colette.
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jungwnies · 9 hours ago
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F1 Grid | valentines day
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୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerlc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested or not) : spending valentines day with your f1-boyfriend
୨ৎ : genre : romance & fluff ୨ৎ : tws : slight suggestive ୨ৎ : word count : 3927
୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ
ᡣ𐭩 a/n : happy valentines day to everyone! <3
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ʚ・max verstappen
you weren’t expecting much for valentine’s day. it wasn’t that max didn’t love you—he absolutely did—but he wasn’t exactly the grand romantic gesture type. if anything, you were prepared for the day to come and go without so much as a mention.
that is, until christian horner made an offhand comment about how he was taking geri out for a fancy dinner.
“wait, valentine’s day is today?” max blurted, nearly dropping his red bull can.
lando, sitting beside him, snorted. “oh, mate—you’re so screwed.”
max bolted from his seat, leaving his engineer mid-sentence, and disappeared before anyone could even process what had happened.
you were home, lounging in one of max’s oversized hoodies, when your phone started buzzing with frantic texts from him.
max: are you home? max: never mind, you are. stay there. max: actually, don’t move. i’m coming.
you barely had time to process his sudden urgency before you heard the sound of his car pulling into the driveway at breakneck speed. moments later, he burst through the door, slightly out of breath, hair a little messy, and holding… a grocery store bouquet and a bag from a bakery down the street.
“hey,” he panted, trying to act casual but failing miserably. “happy valentine’s day.”
your eyes flicked to the half-crushed bouquet in his grip and then to the bag, which he handled like it contained the secret to world peace.
“did you forget?” you asked, crossing your arms but already grinning.
“no,” he lied. then, with a sigh, “okay, yes, but only because no one told me.”
you giggled, taking the slightly squished flowers from him. “max, the world has been advertising valentine’s day for weeks.”
“yeah, well, i don’t look at pink and red decorations and think oh, i should do something romantic,” he huffed. “but i fixed it, right?”
you peered into the bakery bag, pulling out a heart-shaped pastry, and smiled. “did you at least try it before buying?”
his face turned sheepish. “i got two. ate one on the way home.”
laughing, you tugged him down onto the couch beside you, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “it’s perfect, max. i don’t need anything fancy—just you.”
his shoulders relaxed as he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. “yeah?”
“yeah.”
“… good. because i really did panic-buy the flowers,” he admitted, making you burst out laughing.
he may have been chaotic, but he was your chaos, and honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
ʚ・lewis hamilton
from the moment february began, you knew lewis had something planned.
it started when he casually asked you one night, his voice soft but certain, "will you be my valentine?" as if you could possibly say no.
you laughed, setting your book aside. "you're asking me like we haven't been together for years."
"i know," he grinned, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. "but you deserve to be asked properly."
and that was just the beginning.
by the time valentine's day arrived, you barely had to lift a finger.
when you woke up, there was a carefully wrapped box sitting on the edge of the bed, a note resting on top in lewis's elegant handwriting:
"good morning, my love. no need to stress about today. i have taken care of everything. wear this and be ready by seven. i will handle the rest. can't wait to see you. always yours, lewis."
you unfolded the tissue paper inside and found an outfit. the outfit. something effortlessly elegant, tailored to your style but with a touch of his own influence. he knew what would make you feel confident, comfortable, and beautiful.
a warmth bloomed in your chest. he had thought of everything.
when seven o'clock arrived, you stepped out of your room and found lewis waiting, looking devastatingly handsome in a custom suit. his eyes swept over you, appreciation lighting them up instantly.
"you look stunning," he murmured, stepping forward to take your hand.
"you picked it," you teased.
"doesn't make it any less true." he brought your fingers to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss there. "ready?"
"always."
the evening was a dream.
lewis had planned a private dinner at a breathtaking rooftop restaurant, candles flickering around you, soft jazz playing in the background. the menu had been curated just for you. your favorite dishes, a wine he knew you loved, even a dessert he had requested specifically because you once mentioned craving it months ago.
it was not just the grandeur of it all. it was him. the way he leaned in when you spoke, completely present. the way he reached across the table, tracing absentminded circles on the back of your hand. the way his eyes never left you, like he was still in awe after all this time.
"you really went all out, didn't you?" you mused, watching as he poured you another glass of wine.
lewis chuckled, shaking his head. "you deserve it. i wanted today to be perfect for you."
you smiled, heart full. "it already was the moment i woke up."
his fingers intertwined with yours, a soft look in his eyes. "i love you, you know."
"i know." you squeezed his hand. "i love you too, lewis."
and as the night carried on, filled with love, laughter, and little stolen kisses, you knew that no matter how much effort he put into the plans, what truly made the night special was simply him.
ʚ・george russell
george had been unusually secretive the past week.
nothing drastic, just little things. hushed phone calls, a knowing smirk when you asked about plans, and the way he would randomly glance at you with a quiet excitement in his eyes.
"you will see," was all he ever said.
and you did.
on valentine's day, just as the sky began to shift into soft hues of pink and orange, george pulled up to a secluded beach with a playful grin on his face.
"i thought we could do something different," he said, reaching over to squeeze your hand before hopping out of the car.
your eyes drifted over the shoreline, the gentle waves rolling in, and the salty breeze kissing your skin. there was no extravagant setup, no overwhelming display. just the sound of the ocean, the warmth of the setting sun, and george beside you, looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered.
"you planned this?" you asked, smiling as he grabbed a picnic basket from the backseat.
"of course," he said proudly. "i wanted something simple, just us. no distractions, no cameras, no fancy restaurants. just this."
your heart swelled as he led you to a cozy spot where he had set up a blanket in the sand, the basket filled with your favorite snacks and a bottle of wine.
as you sat together, watching the waves roll in, george draped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. "i know it is not much, but i wanted today to be about you and me, not some over-the-top production."
you looked up at him, seeing nothing but sincerity in his eyes. "it is perfect, george."
his lips curved into a soft smile before he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "good. because there is nowhere else i would rather be than here with you."
the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the distant sound of the waves lulling you into a peaceful state. at one point, george pulled out his phone and played a song quietly through the speaker, a mellow tune that matched the peaceful ambiance of the beach.
"dance with me?" he asked, holding out his hand.
you let out a small laugh. "there is no music loud enough to dance to."
"we do not need loud music," he said, pulling you up anyway. "just trust me."
and so you did.
you swayed together under the dimming sky, bare feet sinking into the cool sand, his arms wrapped securely around you. it was simple. it was intimate. it was everything you never knew you needed.
as the last bit of sunlight disappeared beyond the horizon, george whispered, "happy valentine's day, love."
resting your head against his chest, you smiled. "happy valentine's day, george."
and in that moment, with nothing but the sound of the waves and the warmth of his embrace, you knew that this was love in its purest form.
ʚ・carlos sainz
carlos had always been charming. but tonight, he was on another level.
from the moment he picked you up, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit that made him look impossibly handsome, you knew he had something special planned. his smirk was dangerous, the kind that sent warmth through your entire body.
“you look stunning, mi amor,” he murmured, leaning in just a little too close as his lips brushed your cheek. his cologne lingered, warm and intoxicating. “i almost want to skip dinner and keep you all to myself.”
you rolled your eyes, though your heart skipped a beat. “behave.”
“i make no promises,” he teased, leading you to the car.
the restaurant was one of your favorites, a cozy yet elegant spot that carlos had somehow managed to book despite its usual months-long waiting list.
the moment you were seated, he reached across the table, fingers brushing over yours as he gazed at you with that signature, lazy smirk. “i think i am already full just looking at you.”
you laughed, shaking your head. “that was terrible.”
“but did it work?” he asked, lifting your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it slowly, deliberately.
your skin tingled. “maybe a little.”
he grinned. “good.”
throughout dinner, he was extra attentive, making sure you had everything you wanted. his knee brushed against yours under the table, his voice dipped lower whenever he leaned in to whisper something just for you, and his fingers traced light patterns along your wrist whenever he held your hand.
at one point, he tilted his head, watching you with an unreadable expression.
“what?” you asked, smiling.
“nothing,” he murmured, his voice soft but deep. “i just love watching you when you are happy.”
your heart fluttered. “carlos.”
his smirk returned. “what? it is true.” he took a slow sip of his wine, eyes never leaving yours. “besides, i like to remind you how completely, hopelessly in love with you i am.”
your stomach flipped. “you are really pulling out all the stops tonight, huh?”
he leaned in slightly, voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “only because i know what it does to you.”
your breath hitched. “you are unbelievable.”
he smirked, fingers brushing over yours again. “and yet, you love me anyway.”
you sighed, pretending to be exasperated, but there was no denying the warmth spreading through your chest. “unfortunately.”
carlos chuckled, shaking his head. “i think you mean luckily.”
you looked at him, taking in the way his dark eyes burned with something deeper than just playful flirtation. beneath the teasing, beneath the smooth confidence, there was love. real, undeniable love.
and it was all for you.
as dinner came to an end, he reached for your hand again, tracing slow circles against your palm. “do you want dessert?”
you tilted your head. “are you actually talking about dessert, or is this another one of your lines?”
his lips twitched. “would you be disappointed if it was?”
you shook your head, laughing softly. “no.”
his fingers laced with yours as he brought your hand to his lips once more, voice low and full of promise.
“good.”
ʚ・charles leclerc
charles had monaco at his fingertips. it was beautiful, luxurious, and full of charm, just like him. but when valentine’s day approached, he surprised you with something unexpected.
“we are going to paris,” he had said casually over breakfast, sipping his coffee like he had not just dropped the most romantic idea possible.
your eyes widened. “paris? you live in monaco, one of the most beautiful places in the world, and you’re taking me to paris?”
he smirked, setting his cup down before leaning in. “everyone knows paris is for lovers, mon amour. and i want to spoil you properly.”
and he did.
the moment you landed, you felt the shift.
paris had its own kind of magic, the kind that wrapped around you like a warm embrace. the air smelled of fresh bread and soft rain, the streets alive with quiet charm. charles took your hand effortlessly, like he was meant to hold it, leading you through the city as if he had been born to love it, just as he had been born to love you.
the morning was slow and sweet, starting with a walk along the seine. he held your hand the entire time, stopping occasionally just to press a kiss to your temple, or to murmur something in french that he knew would make you blush.
“say something else,” you teased, smiling up at him.
he leaned in, lips brushing against your ear. “tu es la plus belle chose que j’ai jamais vue.”
you shivered at the way his voice dropped, the way his breath was warm against your skin. “and what does that mean?”
he smirked, tugging you just a little closer. “it means you are the most beautiful thing i have ever seen.”
your heart flipped in your chest. “you are too good at this.”
“i am only good at this because it is you.”
he spent the afternoon showing you his favorite hidden spots. a small café tucked away from the crowds, where he ordered for you effortlessly in french, his accent rolling off his tongue like silk. a bookshop near the notre-dame, where he traced his fingers over the spines of old novels, claiming he was looking for something special to remember this trip by.
“i do not need souvenirs,” he said, slipping his arm around your waist. “you are the only thing i want to remember.”
by the time evening arrived, he had one final surprise.
he took you to the eiffel tower just as the sun was setting, the sky painted in soft pinks and golds. as the lights flickered to life, he turned to you, his hands resting firmly on your waist.
“beautiful,” he murmured.
“the view?” you teased, even though you already knew the answer.
he shook his head slowly. “you.”
your breath caught in your throat as he reached for you, his lips finding yours in a slow, lingering kiss. there was no rush, no urgency. just the feeling of being completely and utterly his, surrounded by the city of love, under the lights of paris.
his hands slid to the small of your back, fingers tracing lazy circles as he deepened the kiss. he pulled away just enough to whisper against your lips, “you taste sweeter than any wine.”
your cheeks warmed, but before you could reply, he kissed you again, this time with just a hint of teasing, just enough to make your heart race.
by the time you arrived at the hotel, paris had already left you breathless.
the suite was stunning, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering city, warm candlelight flickering against the walls, and soft rose petals scattered across the bed.
you turned to charles, who was watching you with something unreadable in his gaze. “you really thought of everything.”
his smirk was slow, deliberate. “i always do.”
you stepped closer, hands resting against his chest. “why paris?” you asked, voice soft.
his hands found your waist easily, like he had been waiting for this moment all night. “because it is the most romantic city in the world.” his voice dropped slightly, eyes darkening as he pulled you even closer. “and because i wanted to make sure you never forget tonight.”
your pulse quickened as his fingers traced slow patterns along your lower back, his lips brushing just below your ear.
“i have given you paris,” he murmured, voice warm and deep. “now, i only want to give you me.”
his lips ghosted over your skin, teasing, lingering, waiting.
the night was still young.
ʚ・lando norris
you were this close to losing it.
sitting on your couch, phone in hand, you stared at the screen, thumb hovering over lando’s contact. it was nearly eight in the evening on valentine’s day, and there had been no text, no call, no nothing.
no “happy valentine’s, love.” no “can’t wait to see you.” not even a dumb meme.
you waited all day, giving him the benefit of the doubt. maybe he was busy. maybe he had something planned. maybe he forgot.
your blood simmered at that last thought. oh, if he forgot…
you hit the call button, heart pounding as it rang. once. twice. straight to voicemail.
“oh, hell no.”
you stood up, pacing the living room, preparing the argument in your head. you would start off calm. hey, babe, just wondering if you forgot a certain very important day? then you’d get passive-aggressive. wow, imagine forgetting your girlfriend exists. and if he dared to laugh, you would go full dramatic mode. maybe i should date someone who actually remembers i exist. maybe oscar piastri wouldn’t forget.
but before you could dial again, the doorbell rang.
you blinked, still mid-rant in your head. slowly, you walked over, swinging the door open, fully prepared to go off—
and there he was.
lando stood on your doorstep, slightly out of breath, holding entirely too many things at once. a bouquet of your favorite flowers, a bag of takeout from your favorite restaurant, a small wrapped box, and a guilty, breathless grin on his face.
"hi," he said sheepishly, eyes twinkling.
you crossed your arms, biting back a smile. "you forgot, didn’t you?"
his jaw dropped in mock offense. "never!"
you gave him a pointed look. "then why do you look like you just ran a marathon?"
"because someone’s favorite restaurant takes forever to prepare food," he said, stepping inside as you moved aside. he held up the takeout bag like a trophy. "i have been standing in line for an hour. an hour, babe. do you know how many people are out there trying to get last-minute valentine's dinners? it’s war out there."
you snorted, shaking your head. "you could’ve at least texted me, lando. i was this close to picking a fight with you."
"believe me, i know," he muttered, placing everything down on the table. "i saw the missed call and almost died because i knew you were about to go nuclear on me."
you rolled your eyes as he unwrapped the takeout, the smell filling the room instantly. he grinned at your reaction, knowing full well how much you loved it.
"see?" he said, handing you a pair of chopsticks. "you thought i forgot, but really, i was just out here being the best boyfriend ever."
you raised an eyebrow. "you sure about that?"
he smirked. "mostly."
you shook your head, but when he grabbed a flower from the bouquet and tucked it gently behind your ear, your heart melted just a little.
"you do look really cute when you're mad, though," he added, grinning.
"lando," you warned, but he just laughed, pulling you onto the couch with him.
as you both started eating, he kept sneaking little bites of your food, dodging your half-hearted swats, grinning every time he managed to steal some.
"you're literally eating the same thing," you huffed.
"yeah, but yours tastes better."
"you are insufferable."
"and yet, here you are," he teased, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. "still mad at me?"
you sighed dramatically, resting your head against him. "i mean… i was really looking forward to yelling at you."
he chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "i know. next time, i’ll text you, my bad."
"next time?" you repeated, raising an eyebrow.
he winked. "next time i make you think i forgot."
you gasped, smacking his arm as he burst into laughter, dodging you like an overgrown child.
eventually, you both settled down, tangled together on the couch, sharing food, jokes, and soft kisses in between.
and despite all your earlier frustration, you realized you wouldn’t trade this for anything.
ʚ・oscar piastri
valentine’s day was meant to be easy this year.
no over-the-top plans, no rushing to a fancy restaurant, no stress about whether a reservation would fall through. just you and oscar, a quiet night in, and the simple comfort of being together.
you had both agreed on it weeks ago, sitting in bed one night when he casually asked, “so, what do you wanna do for valentine’s?”
you had shrugged, leaning against him. “something simple. movies, dinner at home, just us.”
his response had been instant. “perfect.”
and now, as you stood in the kitchen, stirring the sauce for dinner while music played softly in the background, you couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.
oscar walked in, freshly showered, his hair still damp as he leaned against the counter, watching you with a lazy smile.
“you need help?” he asked, even though you both knew the answer.
“you just want an excuse to mess around,” you teased, throwing him a knowing glance.
he gasped in mock offense. “i would never.”
raising an eyebrow, you pointed at him with the spoon. “like last time, when you ‘helped’ by stealing half the ingredients and eating them before they even made it into the dish?”
he grinned unapologetically. “that was a tactical decision.”
laughing, you turned back to the stove, stirring the sauce as he moved behind you, arms sneaking around your waist. he rested his chin on your shoulder, watching over you like he was actually involved in the process.
“this is nice,” he murmured.
you smiled, leaning back against him. “told you. low-key is the way to go.”
he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder before pulling away. “alright, chef, what do i do?”
you handed him a cutting board with some vegetables to chop. “here. real help this time.”
he got to work, surprisingly efficient, only occasionally making faces at the onions like they had personally offended him.
by the time dinner was ready, the two of you set up in the living room, plates in hand, a blanket tossed lazily over your legs. the movie had barely started when you noticed oscar already halfway through his meal, focused but relaxed, like he was completely at home in this moment.
and, really, he was.
the two of you were tangled together on the couch, comfortable in the quiet moments, sneaking bites from each other’s plates, sharing knowing glances when something ridiculous happened in the movie.
at one point, he nudged you. “are you actually watching, or are you just staring at me?”
you smirked, setting your plate down. “maybe both.”
he huffed a laugh, shifting to face you fully. “well, if you’re gonna stare, at least make yourself useful.”
before you could ask what he meant, he pulled you closer, pressing his lips softly against yours. it was slow, unrushed, just like the night itself.
his hand found its way to your cheek, thumb tracing light patterns as he pulled away slightly, his forehead resting against yours.
“happy valentine’s,” he whispered.
you smiled, brushing your nose against his. “happy valentine’s, oscar.”
he sighed contently, pulling you even closer as the movie played on, forgotten.
and in that moment, you realized that you didn’t need fancy dates or extravagant gestures.
because home wasn’t a place.
it was him.
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2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate
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giuseppe-yuki · 7 months ago
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who is that?
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max verstappen x ragdoll cat shapeshifter!reader
w.c.: 1.9k
warnings: suggestive content, curse words, jealous!max
part of my shapeshifting!reader series
summary: who is that cat that max is playing with in the rb garage that is not you?
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picture credits from pinterest :)
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sitting on an elevated ball cat bed that was custom designed with max’s emblem on the side, it wasn’t hard to see that you were a little spoiled. hell, you even had your own minifridge stocked with fresh fish, veggies, fruit, and meat that max specifically ordered for you. at first, you had advocated against having your little corner of the red bull garage, not wanting to take up too much space, but max had convinced not only you but also christian to build the little cat corner, because who could ever say no to a three-time world champion? 
now, you were sitting daintily on the soft cushion of the bed, watching max finish the last of his fp1 laps. to no one’s surprise, he had the quickest time, being faster than charles by a third of a second. 
feeling a bit hungry, you let out a few mewls, sending a few of the engineers scurrying your way. ha, you thought. i have them wrapped around my finger. 
“you hungry, little kitty?” one of the engineer asks, petting your head. 
you blink your signature blue ragdoll cat eyes at her.
immediately, she jumps up, and strolls to your mini fridge. gingerly, she takes out some pre-prepared raw chicken out of the refrigerator, along with a couple of strawberries. after cutting up both items into small enough pieces with scissors stored on the side of the fridge, she sets the food in a small bowl in front of your cat bed. 
you jump off your elevated bed and walk a few laps around the engineer’s legs, rubbing your fur against her legs in a show of appreciation. the other engineers all coo in adoration, tilting their heads and smiling at you. you approach the bowl on the ground and gobble down the chicken and strawberries, quick. 
deciding you want pets now, you hop into another engineer’s lap and purr, which evokes him to start scratching your chin. but before he could give you any more pets, max pulls into the garage along with checo, signaling to you that fp1 was over. the engineer sets you back on the ground to start assessing the rb20 with everyone else. 
to your left, hannah schimtz strolls in from the pitlane, one hand clutching her headpiece and another holding a clipboard. you pad over to her through the chaos of the garage and jump onto her leg. she chuckles before setting down her things on a counter and picking you up. she gives you a few pats on the head, earning her a meow of happiness from you. gianpiero lambiase appears out of nowhere next to hannah, but you don’t mind as he starts stroking your fur. you nuzzle into hannah’s team kit in gratitude. 
when you lift your head and look across the room, you see your boyfriend has already gotten out of his car and standing next to checo. checo is animatedly talking with his hands, occasionally gesturing towards his car, but max is not looking at him. he stares directly at you in hannah’s arms, cool blue eyes staring you down. its filled with a familiar fondness, but it is also tinted with an emotion you don’t see often- jealousy. 
he turns and walks towards you, leaving checo looking at his retreating figure with a confused look on his face. (poor checo, you think.) 
“i’m going to hold my cat now,” he says pointedly to hannah, emphasizing the “my”. he snatches you out of hannah’s arms and holds you gently to his chest. you think you can hear his heartbeat through his sweaty fireproofs. 
turning on his heel, he yanks the driver radio earbuds out of his ear, one-handedly throws it on the counter behind his car, grabs you tight, and bolts out of the garage towards his driver room. 
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“don’t you think that was a little much back there, maxie?” you question, lifting your head off his chest and peering at him. 
“umm, no, not really,” your boyfriend says. he squeezes you closer to him on the bed in his driver’s room, tangling your legs together.
you thread your fingers into max’s, using your other hand to fiddle with his fan-made mv1 bead bracelets and trace the patterns on his silver cartier bracelet. “if i may,” you start, lips close to the shell of his ear, “i would say…you were a little jealous back there- snatching me out of hannah’s arms. i just wanted a few pets, that’s all.” 
he pouts, scrunching his nose. he pulls himself away from you and adjusts himself on the bed, laying on his side and propping one hand on the side of his head. you can see the dark spots on his pillow where his head was, leftover droplets of water from getting out of the shower. he adjusts the simple black shirt that he pulled from his drawers a few minutes ago, and blinks at you innocently. 
“no i wasn’t,” he defends himself. “i just simply wanted to hold my pretty girlfriend after racing hard on the track after fp1.” 
you roll your eyes. “sure baby,” you giggle. he was such a lousy liar. it was kind of cute seeing him jealous though. you lean closer to him, laser focused on his soft lips. “just know that you’re the only person that can do this-” 
before you can put your glossy lips on his, max’s phone starts to buzz. 
he curses, pulling out his phone. “who the fuck is calling me?” 
the caller id lights up, showing the words ‘christian horner’ in blaring white letters. 
he scrambles off the bed, and turns to you. “i’m sorry, i have to take this,” he says apologetically. “i will be back, though.” he gives you a wink before walking out of the room.
lying on the bed by yourself, fix your hair a bit before pausing. “no way christian fucking horner just cockblocked me!” you say aloud, giggling to yourself.
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two hours before fp2 starts, you find yourself in the paddock bathroom. you smooth down your hair, reapply your makeup, and start smothering lipgloss on your lips when you hear a voice behind you. 
“hey there, you’re max’s girlfriend, right?” a girl in a pretty patterned tube top and jeans smiles at you, tilting her head in question. 
“oh, yes, that’s me!” you respond, smiling back at her. before she can respond, you reach your hand out, and pluck a white feather off the back of her top. “you had a feather stuck on the back of your top by the way,” you explain to her, tossing it in the trash can next to the sinks. 
“haha thanks, i have no idea how that got there!” she says, scratching her head. she then reaches out her hand. “i’m oscar’s girlfriend by the way. nice to meet you!”
you strike up a conversation while she touches up her own makeup, even exchanging numbers. 
she was in the middle of explaining a funny story how she apparently “stole water” from the red bull motorhome when she pauses and points to a spot near your shoulder. 
“there’s like a pretty big bruise on your shoulderblade!” she says concerningly. “is everything alright?” 
you look at yourself in the mirror, and sure enough is a bruise, small enough to not be seen from far away, but too big to cover up unnoticeably. god, you were gonna kill max on sight. 
you struggle to come up with an appropriate excuse to tell oscar’s girlfriend. “i- um was kind of clumsy and bumped into a shelf in max’s driver’s room, and like- a giant vase art piece thingy fell on me!” 
she gasps in shock, “omg, what? i hope you’re okay now!”
you nod your head quickly. “yeah, i’m totally fine,” you say. “the vase didn’t even hurt that much.” 
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after covering the hickey bruise with at least a half a gallon of concealer, you hurry over to the red bull garage. max must be a little worried, considering you were gone a little longer than expected because you were talking to oscar’s girlfriend. to your surprise, max is sitting on one of the data analyst’s chair, dangling a toy fish on a string over the head of a ragdoll cat. the cat bats at it, meowing.
“what the actual fuck are you doing? and who is that?” you burst out, marching over to max. this better be a prank, you think to yourself.
to your surprise, there is not a hint of held-back laughter on max’s face- only shock. “wait what?” he says, stunned. “if you’re here..then who is…?” he trails off. the cat sits on the ground between you both, blinking its blue eyes innocently. 
GP walks up to you and max, not noticing both of your shocked faces. he bends down and picks up the cat, cooing. “i know one of the engineers fed her earlier, but you don’t mind if i feed this one a bit of fish do you?” he doesn’t wait for an answer before stalking off to the fridge with the cat. 
you turn to max, eyes blazing. 
“i swear! i thought that was you!” he whispers to you frantically.
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by the time fp2 was over, you were already back in max’s driver room. the door busts open, and in runs a sweaty max. he starts rambling (or should i say maxplaining?) the second the door is open- “omg, baby where is the cat? after fp2, i talked to gp and he said that you left with ten minutes left in fp2 with the cat? please please please tell me you did not kill the cat, i swear i did not know that it was not you! it was a random stray cat that somehow found its way into the paddock! i won’t even touch another cat ever again please?” 
he turns the corner of his driver’s room to find you in your cat form snuggling on the bed with a sleeping ragdoll cat. you turn to blink your glittering blue eyes at him while keeping a paw protectively around the other cat. 
your boyfriend sits down on the couch, relief oozing out of him. he gives both of you some head scratches. “i really thought you took the cat and killed it or something,” he exclaims. he then heads to the mini cooler next to his rack of race suits and pops open a can of red bull. when he turns back around, you are now sat next to the cat, running your hands over its soft fur.
“you really think i would do that, maxie?” you say, raising an eyebrow. 
he goes back into panic mode, trying to defend himself. “no, no, no, i just meant-”
you cut him off, laughing. “relax, baby, i’m just messing with you. besides, i think we have a new member in our family now! what should we name him?” 
max sighs with relief, and comes to sit next to you on the bed. he says the first name that pops into his mind. “how about we name him jimmy?” 
you raise your eyebrow for the second time. “jimmy?” you say incredulously. “you want to name the cat jimmy?”
“okay, okay,” he says, holding his hands up. “how about…sassy? that cat was really sassy with me when i found it in the garage! that’s why i thought it was you!” 
“what is that supposed to mean?” you say bewilderedly. 
before max can answer, the cat yawns loudly in your lap and nuzzles close to you.
“you know,” you remark, changing the subject,  “i’m honestly really glad you found this little kitty.” you lean over and give max a peck on the lips, tasting a hint of red bull. 
an idea hits you. “hey, why don’t we name him redbull?”
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taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin @ale-522 @formula1-motogpfan @aceyalonso @my0hmary @mbappebby @madkohi @ralshatos
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jakescapes · 7 days ago
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𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖'𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨. (𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 2)
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pairing: stalker!jake x reader (f)
synopsis: It all started when you met Jake Sim—the campus golden boy everyone adored. Charming, new, and impossible to resist, you quickly become his obsession. But as you fall deeper into his world, you realize the person you're falling for isn’t who he appears to be. And soon, you're trapped in a game you never agreed to play.
warnings: non-con/dub-con!!, suffocation, reader passing out at some point, manipulation, public groping, explicit smut, also not proof read that well
word count: 16k
author's note: hi guyss, im kinda disappointed with this. i feel like i started this story out really strong but i feel like it's rlly rushed towards the end. ive just been rlly needing to finish it so i can get to my other projects, so sorry abt that. also there might be some typos and stuff, i didnt get to properly proof read, but still hope u enjoy!
now playing: mind games by sickick
Jake froze, every muscle in his body locking into place as the faint sound of your voice echoed throughout the apartment, shooting up from the floor in haste. The lighthearted remnants of your voice getting farther away from the front door made his stomach churn with anxiety.
Acting swiftly, he began to hurriedly put all of your panties and bras back into the drawer, fumbling and folding them to make them look as untouched as possible. The faint sound of your footsteps grew louder, and when he heard the soft creak of the floorboards just outside your bedroom door, panic surged through him like a lightning bolt.
The doorknob rattled. Jake’s heart thundered in his chest. There was no time. His eyes darted around the room, searching desperately for an escape plan. He had to hide. Quick.
Without thinking, he dove underneath your bed, barely managing to squeeze his long frame into the cramped, dusty space. It was uncomfortable, the sharp wood frame pressing into his back, but he didn’t have the luxury to care.
As he lay there, Jake pressed his face into the musty carpet and swallowed hard, forcing his breathing to slow. He couldn’t make a sound, not even a whisper of movement, trying to act as invisible as possible. He listened intently, every nerve on edge, as your voice drifted into the room, still lighthearted and casual.
“…I mean, sucks that that one store was closed. Seriously, who closes at 1:30 on a Sunday? What are they, trying to be some knock-off Christian Chick-fil-A or something?” you joked, your voice drawing a laugh from your roommate in the other room.
Jake clenched his jaw, trying to ignore the dust tickling his nose and the pounding in his chest. His mind raced. Every second felt like an eternity as he waited, praying you wouldn’t notice anything amiss.
“…Right? It’s like, I get wanting a day off, but why not just close earlier or something?” Ava replied.
You dropped your bag onto your bed with a sigh, the springs creaking slightly above Jake's head. “Honestly, I’m not even mad about it. I just wanted an excuse to drag you out of the apartment anyway. You’ve been holed up in here all weekend.”
Your roommate groaned dramatically from the hallway. “Okay, but I deserved that lazy weekend. Unlike you, Miss Overachiever, I don’t like voluntarily overloading myself with assignments.”
"It’s called being responsible. You should try it sometime.”
Ava stepped into your room, leaning against the doorframe. “You know who else seems responsible? Jake.”
Jake stiffened under the bed, his heart skipping a beat as his name fell from your roommate’s lips.
You rolled your eyes, flopping down onto the mattress, unknowingly inches above the current topic of discussion. “Don’t start, Ava.”
“I’m just saying,” she continued, walking into the room. “He’s cute, he’s smart, and he literally likes you. What’s the holdup?”
You sighed, your voice tinged with hesitation as you stared up at your ceiling. “I don't know. He’s… really sweet, and he always knows how to make me laugh. I mean, he’s so easy to be around, you know? But sometimes, I get this weird feeling. Like, maybe I’m just overthinking it, but it’s just something is off and I can't ignore it."
Jake’s jaw clenched as he lay silently beneath the bed, every word you said hitting him like a blow.
Ava dismissed your concerns with a wave of her hand. “Are your seriously going on about this again? You’re being ridiculous. He’s just a guy. A really hot, really sweet guy who, for some insane reason, actually likes you.”
“Thanks. Your pep talks are always so inspiring,” you said dryly, but there was a hint of a smile in your voice.
Jake’s mind raced as he absorbed the conversation. On one hand, he was relieved to hear that you liked him, even if you did think he was “off.” But on the other hand, your words lit a fire under him. If you thought he was acting weird, he needed to make sure you didn’t anymore. He had to fix that. He had to fix you.
Your roommate just shrugged, heading back toward the hallway. “Whatever. Just let me know when you’re finally ready to admit you’ve got a thing for him.”
You groaned. “Go away, Ava.”
When the door finally clicked shut and you were left alone in the room, Jake could hear the springs creak again after a few moments as you shifted on the bed. He held his breath, praying you wouldn’t look down or notice anything unusual. If, for whatever reason, you decided to take a peak under your bed, he was done for.
The soft creak of the bed springs put Jake on high alert as you shifted your weight and got up, crossing the room toward your mirror and dresser. He stayed still at first, his body tense and pressed against the floor, but curiosity got the better of him. Slowly and cautiously, he tilted his head, peeking out from under the edge of the bed frame.
His breath caught as his gaze settled on you, oblivious to his presence, adjusting the chain of a delicate necklace in front of the mirror. The way you brushed your fingers over the small pendant, the subtle furrow in your brow as you tilted your head to inspect how it sat against your skin—it captivated him. Jake couldn’t help but stare, his pulse quickening as he watched your every movement.
You opened a drawer, pulling out a pair of earrings and holding them up to your ears, deliberating. To Jake, it was fascinating, how meticulous and graceful you were with such simple actions. He’d never seen this side of you before. It was intimate in a way that made his chest tighten.
But then you paused, turning your head slightly as if you sensed something out of place. Jake ducked back under the bed in an instant, his heart pounding in his chest.
Had you seen him? Did you hear something?
"Ugh, where’s that other earring?” you muttered to yourself, your voice breaking the silence. Jake exhaled quietly in relief, the tension in his body easing just enough to steady his nerves.
He clenched his jaw, realizing how reckless he was being. Yet, despite the danger of being caught, he felt an odd thrill coursing through him, an electric mix of fear and exhilaration.
That sensation intensified even more in the next moment, because the next thing he knew, your jeans were dropping to the floor from of your body. They were then followed by the top you were just wearing seconds ago.
Oh my god, he thought.
You were getting naked. Right in front of him.
Jake's attention piqued even more as he adjusted his head slightly, angling it to get a clearer view from the narrow crevice under your bed. The soft glow of your lamp illuminated your features as you slipped off your panties next, and then unclasped your bra, letting them all fall the to the floor right next to the other discarded pieces of clothing.
It all felt so intimate, so unguarded. Jake’s breathing slowed as he tried to remain as quiet as possible, his body stiff and heart racing, a mix of adrenaline and something deeper coursing through him (his arousal).
Speaking of, Jake immediately got hard, once again, at the sight—feeling his jeans getting tighter and suffocating his dick against the floor as it began to grow. However, it was definitely not the right time to pull his fucking dick out right now, and he knew that. Mostly because there certainly wasn't enough room for him to jerk off anyway, and less because he feared being too loud and getting caught.
But really, who could blame him? Any man with a decent pair of eyes would understand Jake’s fascination. Look at you. You were gorgeous. The way your hair cascaded down your slender back, catching the light just right, as you stood in front of the mirror. The subtle way you tilted your head, studying your own reflection with that quiet intensity, as if you were both admiring and critiquing yourself. It was mesmerizing. The way that your tits sat so perfectly, so perky, right above your waistline, perfectly accentuating your figure. Your belly button piercing glinted subtly under the light, resting perfectly against your skin, almost like a cherry on top of an already stunning masterpiece.
Your long legs. They seemed to go on forever, effortlessly graceful as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. Everything about you screamed perfection in a way that felt almost unfair to anyone lucky, or unlucky, enough to be in your orbit.
And who could forget that ass of yours? Jake, of course, couldn't. Only getting glimpses of what it looked like when you wore jeans or even those tight, tight yoga pants that drove him crazy definitely couldn't have prepared him for the sight before him. It was so round and curvy, resting perfectly against your hips. I could get used to this, he thought. He had fantasies about it, and now, those said fantasies were certainly growing by the moment, as he just stared right at you. Fantasies of grabbing it, slapping it as hard as he could. Didn't even care about leaving marks or bruises, knowing that except for you, he would be the only one seeing them anyway.
He so badly wanted to get a good look at your pussy. But that damn mirror, the one attached to the dresser, ended just where your hips were, blocking any chance of him catching a glimpse of what lay further. With your back turned towards him, it was as if fate had decided to toy with him, letting him catch only fragments of your perfect image before the mirror cut it off. He could only imagine the rest, and the thought of it made his chest tighten with frustration.
But at the end of the day, it was no big deal. The thought of seeing your sweet, perfect little pussy for the first time, up close while he undressed you and ate it out didn't sound so bad. Saving the best for last, I guess. He promised to himself in that moment, that he would eat it so fucking good it would leave you fucking desperate and begging for more.
Jake liked the sound of that. He liked it a lot.
But suddenly, the sound of you walking towards your connected bathroom snapped him out of his thoughts. Jake's heart pounded in his chest as he heard the water turn on in the bathroom a few seconds later. The faint hum of the shower running provided a small but crucial cover for his movements. And as much as he wanted to witness you after a nice, hot shower, probably only wearing a tiny towel wrapped around your body and topped with a sexy messy bun, he knew this was his only opportunity to slip out unnoticed.
Still lying under the bed, Jake strained to listen for any sudden sounds that could signal your return to the bedroom. Satisfied that the shower was fully running and you were preoccupied, he slid out from under the bed as quietly as possible, moving with deliberate slowness to avoid any creaking from the floor.
Once on his feet, he scanned the room to ensure everything was back in its place. His sharp eyes darted around for any evidence of his intrusion, opening up your dresser drawers once more to warrant anything suspicious. Satisfied, he grabbed just a few more pairs of your panties (for safekeeping of course), before he tiptoed toward the door, making sure to avoid stepping on anything that might give him away. Every movement felt painfully loud in the otherwise quiet room.
Slowly, Jake turned the doorknob, grateful that it didn’t squeak. He opened the door just wide enough to slip through.
Now in the hallway, he moved swiftly toward the front of your apartment, glancing over his shoulder to ensure the coast was clear. He could see the shadow of your roommate behind her closed door, which he wanted to take advantage of, in case she had any ideas of stepping out anytime soon.
Before exiting, he paused to ensure the door wouldn’t slam shut behind him. He gently eased it closed until it latched without a sound.
Only when Jake was outside, the cool air hitting his face, did he allow himself to exhale. His hands were trembling, but he couldn’t help the slight smirk that tugged at his lips. The thrill of narrowly escaping made his heart race as he walked away, blending back into the world as if nothing had happened.
-------------------------
You stepped back into your room, towel drying your damp hair, the scent of your lavender body wash still lingering in the air.
Your gaze landed on the door to your room. It was slightly ajar, a sliver of the hallway visible through the gap. You frowned, pausing mid-step. You were certain Ava shut it before you ended your conversation with her.
Shaking your head, you walked over and pushed the door closed with a soft click, dismissing it completely in the moment. But as you moved around the room, another thing caught your eye—your clothing dresser. The bottom drawer, where you kept your underwear and bras and a few other ones above it, wasn’t pushed in all the way. A small sliver of space separated it from the dresser frame, and you swore you’d closed it flush, as you always did.
You stood there, staring at the drawer. Then you laughed lightly to yourself, shaking the tension away. Seriously? You’re being ridiculous. Ava probably came in looking for some clothes to borrow, you reasoned.
To quiet the nagging thoughts, you reached for your phone and opened your messages.
You: thanks for being so understanding earlier about me canceling
You: i feel bad
The reply came almost instantly, as if he’d been waiting for it.
Jake: ofc, don’t even worry about it
Jake: u deserve to have fun with your friends. just lmk if u need anything
The sweetness in his words made you smile, easing the tension in your chest. Jake was always so patient, so attentive. It made you feel safe. Despite the strange feelings lingering in the back of your mind, you found yourself focusing on how lucky you were to have someone like him.
You sank onto your bed, scrolling through your messages and exchanging a few more lighthearted texts with Jake. The oddities in your room faded into the background, brushed aside by the warmth of his words. Everything was finally feeling normal again.
-------------------------
Some weeks later, you and Jake finally became official. After some more one sided pining on his end, you eventually gave in. How could you not? He was the perfect boyfriend if there ever was one. He never pressured you to do anything, always let you decide where to hang out, and gave you cuddles at the end of the day when you were stressed. At least for now he did.
Anyway, you two were the couple. The kind of picture perfect pair everyone whispered about on campus. Sure, girls despised you for being the one to finally cuff the golden boy, their envy radiating every time they caught you two holding hands and walking each other to class. But who cared? Jake was yours, you were happy, and that’s all that mattered.
But damn, you never realized how clingy he could be.
It started small, little things that felt more endearing than overbearing. Like how he would insist on walking you to every single class or text you updates throughout the day about the most mundane things. But as time passed, you couldn’t help but notice how Jake seemed to always need to be around you.
Take tonight, for example. You’d planned a cozy night in with Ava, some junk food, a cheesy romcom, and long overdue catching up. But Jake had other ideas.
“Surprise,” he said, appearing outside your dorm with that boyish grin you found so hard to resist. A bouquet of your favorite flowers in one hand and takeout from that hole in the wall restaurant you loved in the other. And while you appreciated the thoughtful gesture, you couldn’t help but internally roll your eyes at the fact that he was here. Again. You loved your boyfriend's company, truly, but sometimes... you just needed a little space.
You blinked, caught between guilt and irritation. “Jake, I told you I was hanging out with Ava tonight—”
“I know, I know. But you work so hard, and I just wanted to do something nice for you. You deserve to relax.”
It was sweet. Almost too sweet. You couldn’t bring yourself to argue. Instead, you shot Ava a quick apologetic look from behind the door. She was perched on the couch, arms crossed, clearly witnessing the entire situation and waiting for you to shut the door on Jake so the two of you could finally start your movie. But that didn't happen. Instead, you promised to make it up to her, and followed Jake back to his car.
And this was starting to become a pattern. Whenever you had plans, especially with Ava, Jake would magically appear with something planned. A picnic in the park, an impromptu movie night, or a late night drive to “clear your head.” And every time, he’d have some way of framing it as him looking out for you.
“You’ve been so stressed lately. I just thought you’d want to spend time with me,” he’d say with a pout, his hands brushing yours as he looked at you with those puppy dog eyes. “But if you’d rather be with her…”
The guilt would hit you like a ton of bricks every time. How could you say no to that? Ava would understand. You could always reschedule, right?
But she wasn’t blind.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Jake,” she said one afternoon, cornering you in the campus coffee shop. Her tone was casual, but her words carried weight. “Not that I don’t get it—he’s your boyfriend. But I feel like we barely hang out anymore.”
Her words stuck with you, planting a tiny seed of doubt that lingered in the back of your mind.
You sighed, stirring your matcha latte idly as you avoided her gaze. “I know. I do. It’s just… he’s so clingy. That’s just how he is. And I feel bad saying no to him, you know? He gets so disappointed when I do.”
“I get that. I really do. But I feel like he’s kind of monopolizing your time. I mean, it’s not just me. Have you even seen any of your other friends lately?"
You opened your mouth to reply but stopped. She wasn’t wrong. “I guess I haven’t really thought about it like that. It’s not like I’m trying to push you all away or anything. He just… he makes me feel guilty if I even bring up spending time with anyone else.”
Ava reached across the table, her voice softer now. “Look, I’m not saying to ditch him or anything. I just wish you’d talk to him about it, set some boundaries. You shouldn’t feel guilty for having a life outside of him.”
Honestly, you were a little surprised at yourself at this point. Before Jake, you always promised that you’d never let anyone, let alone a guy, control your life. You had standards. You had priorities. Not that you don’t have those now, but your relationship with Jake wasn’t exactly what you envisioned for yourself back then. Sure, you liked him, maybe even more than you wanted to admit, but the version of you from before would never have tolerated being treated this way. You roommate was right. It was time to set some boundaries.
You nodded. “You’re right. If he tries to do it again, I’ll talk to him. I promise.”
Ava smiled, giving your hand a quick squeeze. “That’s all I’m asking. I just miss my best friend.”
Her words made your chest tighten, and you felt a pang of guilt. You hadn’t meant for things to turn out like this.
And just as you had every intention to talk to him about it, you found yourself realizing how hard it actually was. It was almost as if Jake couldn’t fully grasp what you were trying to say, or maybe he just didn’t want to.
Here you were, in his room, standing near the edge of his bed while he sat there, looking up at you with those eyes. Soft, questioning, and frustratingly innocent.
“I’m not saying I don’t want to spend time with you,” you began carefully, your arms crossed. “I’m just saying I need to spend time with other people too, like Ava. She’s my best friend Jake, and I don’t want her to feel like I’ve forgotten about her.”
He tilted his head slightly, his brows furrowing. “I don’t understand,” he said, his tone laced with genuine confusion. “Am I keeping you from her? I mean, I thought I was spending time with you because we like being together. Isn’t that normal in a relationship?”
You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “It is normal, Jake, but not when it feels like it’s all the time. I need some space to breathe, to see my friends, to just... be me for a little while, you know?”
Jake blinked, his expression shifting into something that looked hurt. “But I never stop you from seeing her. I never tell you not to. I mean, is it wrong for me to want to be with you? Am I doing something wrong here?”
His words made your stomach twist. He wasn’t raising his voice or arguing back aggressively. It just really seemed like he was unintentionally making you feel like the bad guy without even trying. You could feel your resolve starting to crumble.
“No, you’re not doing anything wrong,” you said, exhaling deeply, trying to keep your frustration in check. “It’s just... I need balance, Jake. That’s all I’m asking for.”
It was silent between the two of you for a few moments and by the look of his face, you could tell Jake was in deep thought. Then he leaned back slightly, patting the space on the bed next to him. “Come here,” he said softly. “Can we just cuddle for now? I don’t like fighting with you. We can talk about it later.”
You hesitated, staring at him, feeling the weight of the conversation slipping through your fingers. Part of you wanted to push back, to make him understand. But the other part, the tired part, just wanted to stop feeling like the bad guy.
Finally, you sighed and stepped closer, sitting down beside him. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. “I’m sorry if I’m too much sometimes,” he murmured against your hair. “I just love being around you. That’s all.”
You didn’t say anything, just rested your head against his chest, hoping that maybe next time, he’d understand better. But deep down, you couldn’t help but wonder if “next time” would even come.
You were then snapped out of your thoughts. You felt Jake’s arms tighten around you, pulling you in closer, his hands gently moving you onto his lap as he laid down against the edge of his bed. You instinctively wrapped your arms around him, letting your head fall into the familiar nook of his neck. The softness of his skin and the warmth of his body felt like a comfort, something you couldn’t easily shake off, no matter how many times you found yourself questioning things.
Inhaling deeply, you let his scent fill your senses, something warm, comforting, like a blend of cologne and the faint trace of his laundry detergent. It made you feel safe, even as the earlier conversation lingered at the back of your mind. Trying to push the thoughts away, you shifted slightly, moving even closer to him, needing to feel his strength, his presence.
He was so strong. So big. His arms felt massive against your body, holding you in place like he never wanted to let go. It was overwhelming in the best way, like everything outside of this moment didn’t matter.
Despite the frustration you’d been feeling with him earlier, there was still something undeniably comforting about being held like this. You couldn’t deny that part of you that loved how he took such good care of you, how he made you feel cherished in his own way, even if it was sometimes suffocating.
His voice broke through the silence, soft yet filled with something you couldn’t quite place. "Look at me," he said gently.
You lifted your head, meeting his gaze. His eyes were soft, a mix of guilt and apology swirling within them. You felt a pang in your chest, unsure if it was from him or the doubt creeping in. Was I really being that mean to him? you thought, the question lingering in your mind as you studied his face. He didn’t say anything further, but his eyes spoke volumes. They were full of remorse, as if he was silently pleading with you, trying to convey something deeper than words could express.
The weight of the silence pressed down on you. You had tried to voice your thoughts, but here he was, looking at you like this, and it made you feel like you were the one who overreacted. It made you feel guilty in a way you couldn’t shake off.
Without thinking, you leaned in, closing the distance between you, your lips finding his in an almost instinctual gesture. It was a way of apologizing, of quieting the inner turmoil you were both experiencing. His lips were soft and familiar against yours, and in that moment, it felt like everything was okay again. For a few seconds, the confusion and uncertainty melted away, replaced by the warmth of his embrace and the comfort of his touch.
But even as you kissed him, part of you still knew that you were sweeping things under the rug. You could feel the weight of the conversation that still needed to happen, but for now, you chose to silence it. You couldn’t bear to confront it while you were here in his arms, feeling like everything was falling back into place.
So, you continued to play along with the nice guy act—kissing him, feeling him up, giving him the affection he craved. And that seemed to make him forget all about the tension from earlier, his mood lifting with each gesture. What started as simple innocent kissing, soon turned into a heated makeout sesh, with Jake groaning into your mouth with no care in the world.
Even though your boyfriend was known for being the sweetest guy on campus, always the charmer with a warm smile and kind words, you couldn't forget that he was, at the end of the day, a man—a man with needs, desires, and an undeniable level of attraction. When you first started going out with him, you expected him to try to make moves on you, to test the waters, even before he would officially ask you out. It was only natural, right? Especially considering the way he always looked at you with that intensity, the subtle touches here and there, and the moment his eyes landed on you, you could feel his desire to see you stripped of everything. But surprisingly, he never really tried anything. Other than the occasional kissing or making out, there was never anything beyond that between you two. You appreciated the patience. It made you feel respected in a way that was uncommon to see in pretty much any man these days. And maybe that’s why you overlooked the weirdness that sometimes crept in.
So when you could tell he was beginning to feel worked up as you both aggressively made out, him trying to contain himself from thrusting up against you, you let him. And more than that, you encouraged it, meeting his hips halfway, letting some whines slip out as you both tongued into each other's mouths.
Jake was surprised at first, momentarily stopping his movements completely as you continued your relentless riding against the center of his groin. But he then quickly took it as a sign to keep on going, to bring it up a notch.
He started to move his hands from where they were at your hips, all the way down to the bottom of your ass, squeezing them with no shame at all. Surely, you were taken aback at his blunt action, but you couldn't deny that that didn't just turn you the fuck on.
You let him know to keep going by moaning once more against him, which he seemed to like a lot, as he picked up the pace of his hips, thrusting right up against your core. Your panties began to feel a bit sticky, since you were, now, beginning to feel what was right under you the whole time.
You were always curious about what it looked like. Or what it felt like. Sometimes catching glances of it in those grey sweatpants of his, or when he would manspread right next to you on his couch, legs spread wide open. But now your curiosity came to an end, because you could literally feel every. single. inch. of his outline.
And he was bigggg. You just knew. I mean, how could you not? With the way it was completely rock hard against you at this point, being shoved up right against your center over and over, and over again. Now, you were being the one who was beginning to feel riled up and you needed more than to just hump his lap. Thankfully, though, Jake noticed—and he did something about it.
The next moment, you were flipped on your back with Jake now on top, reversing the position you were just in. You let out a gasp of surprise as your back hit the bed's mattress in almost an instant. As you caught your breath, you could see in your dazed eyesight, Jake smirking at you from above, very much liking the affect he had on you.
You were about to teasingly roll your eyes at him, until he forcefully pressed his hips right in between your legs, drawing out a loud, unexpected moan from you. The feeling was so raw with his hard length pressed right up against you, making your pussy ache and crave for more. Then, with no warning, he increased his speed once again, thrusting faster, harder, and spreading your legs apart as far as possible, giving him better access to press his cock onto you. He took them and brought them up against his face, forcing you in a mating press, while continuing his harsh, merciless thrusts, eliciting endless whines from you, and deep groans from Jake.
At this point, you completely soaked right through your panties and your shorts. which you only noticed because Jake was intently staring at the dark spot forming on your shorts, fascinated. Embarrassed, you brought your hands to your face, covering it from his view, getting too overstimulated in the moment from the pleasure coming from Jake's dick, and the almost tangible sexual tension in the room.
"Fuck," he groaned with rasp in his voice, still staring straight at what was in between your legs. "You're so fucking hot. Can't get enough of you."
He then inched even closer to your body, removing his hands from in between your legs, and up to hug your back almost suffocatingly. With this new angle, he could get his cock to reach further up your clit, humping into you at lightning speed. His bed started creaking from the sudden movements, and in the moment, you literally thought it was going to fucking break, considering how fast he was going.
Your mind was blank, overtaken by the waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. Eyes squeezed shut, lips parted, you were lost in the sensation, completely dazed. But it still wasn't enough. You wanted to feel it. With nothing in between.
"Jakeee," you whined, almost desperately. "I need ittt... pleaseeee."
This got his attention, his face lifting up from the crook of your neck. He slowed his movements down, just a bit, but still fast enough to keep you in this mind fucked state.
"Need what, baby? Tell me."
This just made you whine even louder. He knew goddamn what. He was just being a bitch and not giving you what he wanted. But your stubborn self wasn't going to give in. Frustrated, you snaked your hand in between both of your tight knitted bodies, grabbing his dick through his jeans harshly, immediately evoking a low, drawn out grunt from your boyfriend.
"Need itt," you whimpered again, reminding him.
You didn't need to tell him twice after that.
Right away, he let go of you, grabbing onto the hem of your shorts and pulling them down all the way down your legs, until you were just covered in those thin, slutty, fucking soaked panties of yours.
He stared at you for a few seconds, loving and drinking in the sight before him. You were propped up on your elbows, a sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead, panting slightly and your legs spread wide open, just for him.
And as much as he wanted to rip his pants off already and shove himself into you, he knew that was just the easy route. If he truly wanted to get you hooked, to have you wrapped around his little finger, he had to stick to the promise he made to himself that day. The promise he made when he was staring at you unclothed, from underneath the crevice of your bed, in your own room that you had no fucking idea about. Yeah, he thought. This is what I had been waiting for.
So instead, he lowered himself off the edge of his bed, never breaking eye contact with you. He took your ankles into his grip, pulling you forward suddenly, prompting a high pitched squeak from you, so your hips were now just at the edge of the bed, with your legs spread wide, dangling and open in the air. With nothing in his way now, he placed his nose directly above your clothed pussy, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, fucking shamelessly.
Yeah, this surprised you, but like c'mon... it was also so fucking hot. And the way he moaned into it, obviously liking the scent and burying his face even deeper, his nose pressing hard against your clit, sent your spiraling out of control.
"Jake what are you—"
"Shhh," he murmured against you, cutting you off. "Just let me."
So you did. Honestly, you would've let him do anything he wanted to you at this point.
After Jake was finally done with being a fucking pervert in front of his very own girlfriend and was finished with smelling your panties, he dipped his tongue out onto the fabric, applying just the right amount of pleasure. Your eyes instantly rolled back from the feeling, letting your arms and head fall back against the bed. If he was going to do this for you, you might as well enjoy it in comfort.
But for Jake, this was almost euphoric. After the first lick, he licked it again. And again. And again, until he was basically making out with your underwear, even going as far as to rubbing his whole face into it. And he honestly seemed like he was getting more pleasure than you were, moaning loudly enough that the neighbors would definitely come rushing to his door and complaining the next day. But after a while, he needed to really taste you, bury his tongue in your hole, with no fabric or lace in his way.
Finally, ripping your panties off your legs as quickly as possible, that's when he finally saw it—your fucking pussy. Dripping onto his bed, so, so, so perfect. He didn't have to even imagine it anymore. He no longer had to dream of it. After months and months of wondering what was hiding beneath the skirts you wore on your dates, he finally knew. And it couldn't have been more irresistible.
Wasting no time, he dug his tongue back in between your folds, ultimately getting a taste of the raw you. The real you he truly craved for for so, so long. He was instantly hit with a rush of euphoria as his eyes rolled back at the relish. Fuck, you couldn't have tasted better to him. And the fact that the whole time you were dating him, this is what you were hiding? This is what you had the whole time? Oh, poor naïve you. If only you would have known the affect just the thought of your pussy gave him. You could have been the one to have him wrapped around your finger. It could have been you. But unfortunately, it wasn't.
Minutes had gone by. Many, many minutes. Jake was currently sucking on your clit as you gripped tightly at the wavy locks of his hair, feeling the urge to rip out every strand as you got more and more overstimulated and impatient by the passing second. He had been going at your clit for the past who even knows anymore, and as much as his skilled tongue work sent you over the edge, you were starting to reach your limit and you needed his mouth off of you now.
"Jakee, it's too much," you weakly attempted, out of breath, as you tried to close your legs on him. Which obviously, didn't fucking work considering how fast he was to open them up again. You sighed in defeat as he just kept on going, eating you out like he was on death row and you were his last meal.
"Jakee. Stop it. I can't—"
"Shut the fuck up."
Um, what?
Flabbergasted, your body froze briefly at his sudden tone. Your sweet, kind boyfriend who had never even said the words "damn" or "hell" in front of you was now speaking to you like that? Who did he think he was?
Jake could tell you were taken aback by what he said, with the way your mouth was agape in dismay, your eyes fully widened.
"What," he chuckled, enjoying your state of shock. "You fucking asked for it didn't you? So you're going to take it."
And that's all he said, before he lowered his mouth back onto your core, lapping up every single drop, not letting a single morsel of your arousal go to waste. But even that still didn't distract you from your agitation. He had been eating you out for at least fifteen minutes at this point. And you couldn't take another second of it.
Again, you tried to move your legs out of his grasp, but struggling in the end. His grip on your thighs was so tight, it felt like he was trying to anchor you to him, making sure you couldn't escape even if you wanted to. Still, you kept trying to squirm away, your body instinctively resisting, though each attempt only seemed to make his grip stronger. His hold on you was unyielding, and the harder you struggled, the more you felt the tension building between you both. He wasn’t going to let you go so easily.
"Stop fucking moving," he said, mouth full of pussy.
Whining, you started thrashing around. You needed to get him off of you.
"What did I fucking say—"
"Wait," you blurted out impatiently, a strange feeling stirring within you.
"What?"
"I think.. I-I'm gonna.." you whimpered weakly, as you felt an unfamiliar feeling building up inside of you.
"Gonna what?" he asked confused as he looked up at you, but still not letting up on your hole.
The feeling was getting more urgent, something you couldn't ignore as he kept on sucking. It was so foreign, that you didn't know what it could have been, until it was finally ripping out of you.
"Ahhh!" you screamed, overwhelmed by a sensation you had never experienced before.
You orgasmed.
But it wasn't a regular orgasm. You didn't just come.
You fucking squirted.
All over your boyfriend.
The liquid spilled out of you, shooting into the air, most of it landing on Jake's face—coating not just his mouth, but his nose. And his eyes. Everything. Everywhere.
For a second, you both just stood still in shock, not knowing what to do, your eyes and mouth open wide in horror. The air was thick with tension, neither of you moving, neither of you saying a word. It felt like time had frozen, the moment hanging between you like an unspoken question, waiting for one of you to break the silence.
You were so fucking embarrassed. You had never squirted in your life. Ever. No man you have ever spent a night with has ever made you feel so pleasured the way that Jake did, in just minutes. You never expected for your first time to be repaying the person in their face, let alone that person being your own boyfriend!
You wanted to bury yourself in a hole, close it up, and never leave it again. The weight of shame pressed down on you, suffocating you, making every breath feel like it was being dragged through mud. You couldn’t shake the feeling of being exposed, vulnerable, and everything seemed to spin faster as you wished for the ground to swallow you whole.
And it didn't help that Jake was just staring right at you, panting heavily, with your fucking arousal painted all over him. You were expecting him to get up and walk out, or maybe even slam the door in your face, kicking you out like it was nothing. But to your surprise, that didn’t happen. Instead, he broke the silence just seconds later after catching his breath.
"That was... so fucking hot."
Wait what?
What did he say?
"... Huh?" you asked hesitantly.
"I said," he began, as he started crawling back up onto the bed, not even caring that your slick from his face was now dripping onto his sheets. "That was so.. fucking... hot." He said the last words with an emphasis that carried so much tension, each syllable hanging in the air like an ultimatum. You could feel your heart racing in your chest, unsure of how to respond. The silence that followed was deafening, almost suffocating, as you tried to make sense of what had just happened. His eyes never left yours, and there was something in them that you couldn’t quite decipher. Probably his horniness, you concluded.
"Fuck, I need to fuck you so bad," he finally confessed, staring directly at your lips.
And honestly, that idea didn't sound too bad. So you stared right back at him in the eyes, challengingly.
"Fuck me then," you said ultimately, as if daring him, testing how far he was willing to go.
"What'd you say?" he asked, his voice almost tinged with disbelief, as if trying to convince himself that his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. Making sure he wasn't so horny to the point that he was hallucinating shit now.
"Fuck me."
The next thing you knew, your legs were being hauled up over your own head, once again, in what felt like a literal millisecond. After that, everything felt like a blur. The sound of the metal from Jake’s belt slipping through the loops echoed in the silence, the sharp clink of the buckle followed by the soft hiss of leather rubbing against fabric, pulled off in a rush.
Once all of his clothes were finally on the floor, you took your goddamn time to admire him while you were still perched on the bed. His pecs might have been as big as your own tits while his biceps were strikingly humongous. And damn, that holy six pack.
You were starting to understand now why every girl admired him on campus. His personality was evidently perfect, intelligent, sociable, and effortlessly charming. But you knew that already. However, you hadn’t quite considered just how much his physical appearance played a part in it all. The way his broad shoulders seemed to fill the space around you, the confidence in his posture that commanded attention without him even trying. And that slutty ass waist...
And then your gaze trailed lower... and lower. Until you finally laid your eyes on.. it.
You gasped lightly, Jake finding your reaction quite amusing, already knowing what it was you were gawking at. How the hell is that going to fit inside me?.. you thought.
It had to have been at least 8 inches. And it was veiny as fuck. Just the sight of it made your mouth water a little.
As much as it wouldn't go in that easily, you wanted it everywhere. Inside you, in your mouth, and maybe even from behind too. You were starting to imagine all the possibilities and wondered why it took you so long to finally do this with him. It's not like you were any better to be honest, considering since the day you met him you always wondered what that thing of his could do. And now, you were about to find out.
While he positioned himself right in between your legs, you hastily ripped your shirt and bra off, tossing them carelessly onto the floor.
"It might hurt a bit," Jake announced. "Just tell me if I should go slower."
You nodded, not even listening, your eyes never leaving his giant cock as he aligned it against your hole. But you should've listened, because nothing could have possibly prepared you for the first push of his dick.
It entered you with almost no warning, your body still getting used to the feeling, considering you haven't had sex in a while. And none of your past experiences could have compared to what Jake had. So, for you, it hurt. Like hell. More than usual. But you're a fighter, and you were going to take his 8 inches like a champ. So you took a deep breath, eyes shutting, and pushing through the pain while Jake inched even deeper.
But Jake, on the other hand—he seemed like he was already in heaven. Even when just his tip aligned with your pussy, he was already not confident enough he would be able to hold back, wanting to ram into it immediately and take you with no hesitation. But he can't scare you off like that. At least, definitely not now. So instead, he maintained his composure (or at least tried to) as he pushed his length into you just a few more inches.
He was probably halfway in now. And while you were still getting used to the stretch, squeezing Jake's arms from the pain, he was seriously about to fucking cum. Your cunt couldn't have squeezed him better. Your walls wanted to push him out so badly, while he simultaneously thrusted farther and deeper into you.
And when he finally made it all the way in, you gripped onto his chest fiercely, stopping him, not yet sure you'd be able to take him just yet.
"Just a moment," you voiced urgently. "I just need to get used to it first."
And while Jake nodded and remained rooted inside of you, he was going crazy and faltering out of control. The longer he remained still, the more he wanted to insert himself even deeper, thrusting into you with no abandon. He tried to think about your side though, he really did. How your probably trying your best to speed things up and get used to his size, but just couldn't help how big he was. But that thought just turned him on even more and he needed to move.
"Are you good now?" he asked, his voice laced with more desperation and want than he intended, needing to ram into you so badly. And although you weren’t entirely ready yet, you figured you were probably prepared enough to start. So you gave him a quick nod, which you immediately regretted a few seconds later.
The way that the moment you started to tilt your head to form a nod, he took that as a sign and did not hesitate to thrust all of his length up your fucking cervix, already going at a pace you could not handle.
You gasped, loudly and understandably, since Jake was basically ramming into you from the start, leaving you no time to fully adjust. His arms came down to cage your body from under him, his face buried into the mattress right next to yours, already groaning so damn loudly while you yelled in pain. His pace unfathomably increasing, not faltering for even just a second.
Thankfully though, after a few more seconds, the pain was starting to form into pleasure and lust. You could feel that familiar surge of nerves racing through your entire body while your pussy got fucking violated from Jake's dick. And the urge to scream at him to stop pounding into you slowly faded away in the background.
Your eyebrows furrowed as your mouth hung wide open in a silent scream. His gigantic cock slammed into you at a constant rate, nonstop and uninterrupted. His balls slapped your ass every time he thrusted hardly, definitely marking you with some redness down there.
His body was right on top of you, making it harder to breathe as you both moaned loudly, the sound of skin slapping echoing throughout the room. He was hitting you just right, in the exact places where you felt it the most. Where you felt it the hardest, the most authentic and raw.
You brought your arms up and lifted his head from where it rested on you, your hands framing his face between them. He stared at you from above, his bottom lip caught in between his teeth, sweat sheering his forehead, pleasure and lust written all over his face.
Never you imagined you would see your boyfriend like this. In such a state so vulnerable. So real.
And it was so fucking hot.
"Fuck," you moaned. "I think I'm close Jake."
"Yeah?" he asked, out of breath.
"Mhmmm..," you whined almost pornographically, and you felt Jake's dick twitch from inside of you, knowing he was close too.
"Me too," he grunted hoarsely. He readjusted himself as his pace sped up, thrusting his hips at a pace so unfathomably violent and fast, that it was starting to hurt your insides just a bit. But it hurt so good.
He brought his lips down to your right nipple, sucking and nibbling at the flesh until it was hard against his tongue, then switching sides to your other tit, milking out everything. He slurped and bit harshly, leaving dark purple and red marks that looked like it hurt. You moaned even louder, your pussy getting so wet that it was starting to coat the bed and even the insides of Jake's thighs. You were dripping literally everywhere.
"Want me to give you my babies?" Jake asked, once he was done with your boobs, grinning slyly while his pace fastened even more.
Not even able to fully comprehend the seriousness or reality of his question, you just shook your head weakly, only focused on cumming. Your brain was so fucked out at this point.
"No?" he chuckled lowly. "I bet you'd be such a good mommy though."
And that was all he said until Jake's thrusts were beginning to get sloppier and sloppier, his face contorting while his eyes rolled back to the brim, shoving in one final thrust, until he shot his thick, white ropes of cum inside you with absolutely no warning.
The sensation was so intense, so unfiltered—it was unlike anything you had ever experienced. Your entire body went rigid, frozen in place. You let out your loudest scream that night, when you felt his fluids paint your insides, unleashing your own orgasm. Your thighs shook uncontrollably as your back arched off the bed, until finally, you stilled—your body reminiscing the after moments.
Jake, so fucking exhausted, dropped right on top of you after getting arguably the best orgasm of his life. He panted heavily, eyes shutting immediately, feeling like he just ran a marathon with not a single drop of water.
And that was the last thing you remembered before the weight of exhaustion pulled you both into a deep, dreamless sleep.
-------------------------
After that day, you and Jake had sex, a lot. And everywhere.
In the shower, on the bed, on the floor, the wall, the couch, and even in his roommate's bed (but no one needs to know about that).
It was as if you had both hesitated, afraid to be the first to cross the line—but once it was done, the hesitation vanished, leaving nothing but a mutual understanding between you.
And now, here you were, kneeling down in between your boyfriend's legs, as he sat on his couch. His clothed dick was resting in your mouth, as his hands pet your hair gently.
"Come on, don't be shy," he encouraged, as he drank in the sight of you. You were innocently looking up at him from where you were on the floor, your mouth right on the center of his sweatpants.
"I'm not shy," you said, your mouth still around his dick.
He raised his eyebrow in suspicion, teasingly, not fully convinced by your statement. So, you applied more pressure on his dick, definitely not biting it, but just more force on your mouth overall.
His hips immediately and instinctively thrusted upward at the feeling, while his hand pushed your head downward onto his cock, groaning from pleasure.
You groaned too, although the sounds were getting suffocated and muffled from his pants.
"Okay, enough teasing. Just suck it already," he demanded out of desperation.
He released the pressure from head so you could breathe better, while you took this opportunity to take the hem of his sweats in your hands. You tugged them down slightly as he lifted his hips, allowing you to slide them lower with more ease. Once they were low enough and the only thing separating you from his cock were his briefs, you placed your mouth back onto his center. But this time, you sucked and licked on the fabric, almost like you were mimicking his same actions from the first time he ate you out.
This made his legs spread even wider, hands pushing your head lower onto him as you suckled onto his cock through his underwear, feeling his arousal spreading throughout the cloth. You could almost taste his pre cum at this point. His whiny moans were getting louder, reminding you that you should probably get to it already, so, you removed your mouth from where it was while you finally tugged his briefs down, releasing his hard dick that slapped against his abdomen with urgency.
It looked so damn juicy and delicious. It stood up straight confidently, with pre cum leaking out of the tip from the hole. Veins covered it from top to bottom, and the observation made your own panties start to dampen.
Without hesitation, you brought your tongue to the tip, slurping up all of the pre cum, and almost rolling your eyes back from the taste. Sure, it was bitter and salty, and not your typical go to appetite, but it came from Jake. And that was good enough.
He cursed from above you as you took the whole head of it in your mouth, sucking and licking like your life depended on it. And once your mouth got used to his size, you reached lower and lower, until the halfway mark hit the back of your throat already. You wanted to take it in all the way, but there was just no way it was going to fit. And Jake knew that. So instead, you took your right palm and grabbed the base of his cock, jerking it off while you bobbed your head on the parts that would fit in your mouth.
Now, this wasn't the best head you've ever gave, you'll admit. It was pretty sloppy, but Jake didn't seem to mind. It was understandable, considering the fact that it was pretty uncommon for the average lady to take 8 inches down the throat anyway.
The sounds of you gagging, which seemed pretty unattractive to you, turned Jake on way too much. Him knowing the fact that your tiny little mouth with a gag reflex couldn't take his big, aching cock—the idea rattled him too much, moaning and grunting as he just watched you try to suck it as best as you could. Trying your best to impress him.
But he was growing impatient. And while Jake knew that you couldn't make it fit, he knew he could. So without any notice, he removed your hand from the base of his cock and slammed his hips upward into your mouth, releasing the most yearning moan out of him.
Your throat burned instantly while Jake began to fuck your mouth. You brought your hands up to his hips, grabbing and thrashing at him, trying to warn him that you couldn't take it. But Jake's head was thrown back so far in pleasure, he had no fucking idea. He just kept your head in place with that grip of his, continuously hitting the back of your throat as your tiny, pink lips jerked him off. Tears began to stream down your face, tasting the saltiness of them as they met with your mouth.
Fuck, this couldn't go on for much longer.
You tried to voice your concerns, struggling to make any sound, desperate to get Jake’s attention, but your mouth was still full of dick. And the vibrations from your attempts to speak just sent Jake even more over the edge, groaning loudly as his eyes shut closed in pleasure.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck... I'm so close.." he managed to mutter, eyes still sewn shut, hips still fucking up into your face.
You tried to breathe through your noise, knowing now that he was about to finish anyway, but really, nothing was helping and your jaw went slack.
Thankfully, with his hips stilling for just a second, you were able to get a small puff of air, before he was ramming back up and shooting his cum down your throat.
The tangy flavor instantly filled your taste buds, but not for long, as you removed your mouth in no time, gasping for air, as if each breath was your last. Finally being able to breathe normally again, you caught the sight of Jake, still very much cumming, but now with your mouth removed, it was darting past you and onto your face. Some got caught in your eyelashes while some landed on your lips. It was almost ironic how, not too long ago, you'd done the exact same thing to Jake, staring into his face with that same intensity while you sat there panting, trying to catch your breath.
But he wasn't done. He grabbed onto your face forcefully with one hand, opening your jaw back up and positioning it right where his dick was, while his other pumped his pent up cock a few more times, with the last bits of his cum spilling out and landing right inside your mouth. Your body jerked at the taste once more, while Jake just watched you, mouth wide open, swallowing up all of his juices with that look of pure sex and passion.
------------------------
"He did what?" Ava asked, her voice filled with disbelief.
You just shrugged, trying to play it off as no big deal. "Yeah, I mean, it was definitely pretty unexpected, but like, it was hot," you admitted, watching Ava's face still struggle to process the information.
"But like, it's Jake we're talking about here. I didn't even know he was freaky like that."
You let out a sigh, brushing the hair from your face. "Yeah well, you can never really know with men," you tried to explain to her, glancing down at your hands. "Anyway, let's talk about something else."
"Okay, well did you ever actually talk to Jake about setting those boundaries? You said you were going to do that, right?"
You froze for a moment, the guilt creeping up your spine. "Well," you started, avoiding her gaze, "I tried... but he didn’t really understand. He kept asking me what he did wrong, and it just felt like he was putting it all on me. Like, I couldn’t even explain myself without him getting defensive." You bit your lip, trying to suppress the frustration. "I don’t know, Ava. Maybe I didn’t handle it right, but it was like he was more concerned about himself than actually listening."
Her expression hardened, lips forming a thin line. "You can’t keep brushing stuff under the rug just because he’s sweet sometimes," she said, her voice firm. "You deserve someone who respects your boundaries, not just someone who only hears what they want to hear."
"I know," you whispered, feeling the weight of the situation. "I just... I don’t want to make things awkward or hurt him. But it’s hard when he just doesn’t get it."
She placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze. "I get it, but you can’t keep ignoring how you feel just to protect him. You deserve to feel heard and respected, not like you have to change for someone else."
You nodded slowly, feeling the truth of her words settle in. "You're right. I just don’t know how to make him see that."
"Hey, give it some time. He might not understand now, but try talking to him again. I'm sure he'll come around."
------------------------
You and Jake were lounging on the couch in his apartment, your feet tangled in a blanket while a movie played softly in the background. The atmosphere was casual, comfortable. Your thoughts were still lingering on that conversation you had with Ava earlier, and it wasn’t until Jake suddenly perked up that you snapped back to the moment.
“Hey,” he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket with a grin. “Heeseung is throwing a party at his place later. Wanna come?”
You sighed, unsure. The idea of a party was definitely not appealing and you weren’t exactly in the mood for one of Jake’s big group hangouts with his friends. “I don’t know,” you said, hesitating. “I’m not really into your friends.”
Jake raised an eyebrow, the soft smile still on his lips. “Why not?” His voice was light, but you could hear the curiosity under it.
You shifted uncomfortably, not sure how to explain it without offending him. “Well… they’re not like you. They’re not sweet and gentle.” (yeah right.)
Jake’s expression softened at your words, and he let out a small laugh. “Aww, babe,” he murmured, leaning over and planting a quick kiss on your forehead. “Don’t worry. There are gonna be other people there too. I promise it won’t be all my friends. And you’re gonna have fun, I swear.”
You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, not entirely convinced. You liked Jake. He was easy to be around, but his friends? You weren’t so sure. The idea of spending an evening with a bunch of loud, overly confident guys didn’t exactly excite you.
“I dunno, Jake…” you trailed off, still unsure.
Jake leaned in a little closer, his eyes soft and coaxing. “Come on, just for a little while,” he said, his voice sweet, almost pleading. “I’ll be right there with you the whole time. You won’t be alone, I promise. And I finally want to introduce my amazing girlfriend to my friends.”
At that, your heart softened just a little. He was just trying to make you feel included, and part of you wanted to make him happy. He had been so patient with you, always caring and thoughtful. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as you were imagining.
You hesitated, glancing at him and meeting his eyes. There was something about his sincerity that made it hard to say no.
“Okay, fine,” you gave in with a sigh, offering him a small smile. “But only because you’re gonna be right by my side the whole time. And if it gets awkward, we’re leaving.”
Jake’s grin widened as he pulled you in for a quick hug, his arms warm around you. “Deal,” he agreed, his voice bright. “We’ll make sure it’s fun. I promise you’re gonna have a great time.”
You felt the tension in your chest ease a little, but there was still a small part of you that wondered if this was a good idea. Nonetheless, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing Jake was determined to make it a night to remember.
And a night to remember, it was.
You recalled the booming bass of music, lights flickering and bouncing around the rooms, crowded bodies dancing together. It was your typical college party. The kind of place you’d avoid if it wasn’t for Jake’s hand firmly holding yours as he led you through the crowd. You couldn’t help but feel a little out of place, standing on the edges, unsure of where you fit in.
Jake noticed immediately, of course, and with his signature warmth, he pulled you closer. “See? I told you you’d be fine,” he said with a grin, his voice almost lost in the loud music, though he kept his tone reassuring. “Just relax. Let’s get a drink.”
You smiled back, trying to push down the knot in your stomach. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Jake, or even that you disliked his friends, but the scene was overwhelming. Bodies pressed too close together, the noise echoing in your skull, and the flashing lights making everything feel a little too surreal.
As you followed Jake through the crowd, you caught sight of his friends scattered throughout the room, laughter and conversations blending with the music. Heeseung was in the center, as expected, with a few other guys hanging out by the table, while a couple of girls chatted nearby.
Jake waved to them all as you approached, introducing you with a warm smile. “Hey, everyone, this is _____,” he said proudly, his hand on your back. “She’s a little shy, but I’m sure you’ll love her.”
You offered them a polite smile, trying to steady your nerves. They were all smiling back, their eyes friendly enough, but there was something in the air that made you feel like an outsider. They didn’t know you, not really, and as much as you tried to push that thought aside, it lingered.
“So, this is your girl, huh?” Heeseung asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’m surprised, man. I thought you were all about the party scene, not settling down.”
Jake chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m not about the party scene anymore. I’m all about her,” he said, his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you a little closer.
You could feel your cheeks warm at his words, the possessiveness in his tone making you both giddy and uneasy. You smiled awkwardly, trying to stay in the moment, but the eyes of his friends were on you, analyzing, judging, like you were a puzzle they couldn’t figure out.
“Alright, alright, no need to embarrass the poor girl,” another one of his friends laughed, giving you a friendly wink. “Don’t worry, we’ll take it easy on you.”
You couldn’t decide if that was supposed to be comforting or not.
You stood there for what felt like probably hours, as Jake chatted away with his friends, eagerly accepting every drink offered to him, while you politely declined each one that came your way. Your eyes started to feel heavy from the monotony, a yawn escaping your lips as you were about to ask Jake to leave. But then, you felt it.
Jake's hand, gripping your ass from under your miniskirt. Out of fucking nowhere.
It was as if all of your senses heightened in that moment, eyes widening, darting around to see if anyone noticed. Thankfully—well, or maybe not—no one seemed to be paying attention. You did your best to force a smile, turning to Jake, but he was lost in conversation, laughing away with his friends, completely ignoring you while his grip just got even tighter, squeezing your ass to the point to where it stung.
You lightly (or not so lightly) tapped his side, trying to get his attention. After a moment, he finally turned his gaze toward you.
"Hmm?" he asked, almost innocently.
You gave him a pointed look, trying to hide the growing frustration that bubbled up inside you. "Jake," you said, your voice low but firm. "What the fuck are you doing."
The innocent expression on his face quickly faded, replaced by a stern glare that made you feel small and uneasy, a wave of fear creeping up your spine. He squeezed your ass again.
"Don't," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation as he noticed you trying to get the attention of his friends.
Then, without warning, he shifted his position. Where he had once been standing beside you, he was now directly behind you, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, possessive embrace, almost as if giving you a romantic back hug. But there was nothing romantic about this. Especially considering how he started to subtly grind himself against your ass. This immediately made every nerve in your body on high alert, your eyes flickering around out of embarrassment. All of Jake's friends were still gathered around, caught up in deep conversation. Some were drinking, others smoking, but they were all very much present. What completely threw you off, though, was how none of them seemed to notice what Jake was doing to you. The dimmed lights and the haze of drunken chatter certainly helped, but still. It was as if they were oblivious to everything happening just a few feet away.
"Jake, you're drunk," you said, your tone getting weaker by the second, but still trying to regain control of the situation. "Let's just go to the bathroom. We can continue in there if you want."
You hoped the suggestion would calm him down, give you both a moment of privacy away from the crowd, but as you looked at his face, the flicker of emotion there made you second-guess your words.
Jake just seemed oblivious to your growing discomfort, or maybe he just didn’t care. He ignored you completely, incessantly grinding his now hard cock into your ass, whimpering lightly right into your ear, where he began to lick and bite.
You felt humiliated at this point. How could nobody see what was happening? Were they just pretending not to notice, or did they simply not care? You looked uncomfortable, giving up on trying to appear normal, and now desperately trying to signal for help, hoping his friends might intervene. But nothing. No one noticed, or if they did, they turned a blind eye.
You didn't understand. Why was he acting like this? Sure, he was drunk, but that didn’t excuse what he was doing. His slurred words, his frantic movements, none of it made sense. He had crossed a line, and yet, in his haze, he seemed unaware of the damage he was causing.
"Jake, please," you pleaded, your voice trembling. You could feel the tears threatening to spill. "Let's just go."
"Shhh.." he whispered into your ear, sucking on it, clearly giving you no mind. His hands roamed from you waist all the way up your dress, until they reached your breasts, groping at the flesh and shoving his hand inside.
You couldn’t take it anymore. With all the strength you could muster, you grabbed his hands and threw them off of you, rushing out of the crowd. Your heart pounded in your chest, and adrenaline surged through your veins as you bolted towards the first door you could find. Without even thinking, you slammed it shut behind you and locked it.
You found yourself in the bathroom, staring at your reflection in the mirror. The lights flickered above you, casting a harsh glow on your tear streaked face. You barely recognized the person looking back at you—disheveled, disoriented, and utterly broken. You felt dirty, like his hands were still on you, even though you were now alone.
The tears came without warning, streaming down your face as you sank to your knees. You tried to catch your breath, but the overwhelming feeling of being violated, ignored, and trapped consumed you. How had it come to this? How could your sweet, loving boyfriend do this you? How could he treat you like this, especially so shamefully, right in front of all his friends? You felt betrayed, confused, and disgusted by the very person who had once seemed so perfect.
You hugged your knees to your chest, feeling the coldness of the bathroom floor seep into your skin, but it didn’t compare to the ice forming in your chest. Jake had always been the guy who made you feel safe, made you feel like you were the only one that mattered. But now? Now it felt like he’d turned into someone else, someone you didn’t even recognize.
You let out a shaky breath, wiping the tears off your face, but they kept coming. The humiliation lingered, gnawing at your insides. The fact that no one else had noticed—or maybe they had and didn’t care—made it worse. It made you feel so small, so invisible. But the worst part? It was Jake, the person you trusted, the one who said he loved you, who had done this to you.
You wished you could turn back time, make it all disappear. You just wanted to feel safe again.
You pulled out your phone with shaky hands, scrolling to Ava’s name and pressing call. The ringing felt like it lasted forever, but no one picked up. You tried again. Straight to voicemail.
It was too late at night. She was probably asleep, unaware that you were falling apart on the other end of the line. A strangled sob escaped your throat as you clutched your phone, feeling more alone than ever. You wanted someone, anyone, to help you, to pull you away from this nightmare.
After what felt like an eternity, you mustered up the courage to leave the bathroom. Your legs felt weak, your body still shaking as you opened the door and stepped out. The music was still blasting, the party still in full swing, as if nothing had happened. You scanned the room desperately, searching for a familiar face, someone who could get you out of here.
But everyone was too drunk, too caught up in their own world to notice the panic in your eyes. You approached a group standing nearby, your voice barely above a whisper. “Hey… can you help me?”
They barely acknowledged you. One girl gave you a fleeting glance before turning away. Another guy just laughed at something his friend said, completely oblivious.
No one cared.
And then you saw him.
He was already making his way toward you, his face painted with guilt, his steps quick and deliberate. Before you could react, he was in front of you, his hands reaching out.
“Baby,” he started, his voice soft, apologetic. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
You flinched away from his touch, the sight of him making your stomach turn. Anger, fear, and heartbreak crashed over you all at once, and suddenly, you were thrashing at him, pushing at his chest, hitting his arms. “Get away from me, Jake!” you choked out, your voice breaking. “Don’t touch me!”
But he just grabbed your wrists, his grip firm but not harsh. “Shhh,” he murmured, pulling you outside, away from the crowd. The cold night air hit you, but it wasn’t enough to stop the burning in your chest.
“Let go of me,” you sobbed, twisting in his grasp, but he wouldn’t let you.
Instead, he cupped your face and kissed you, forcefully, desperately. You tried to pull away, but he only deepened it, as if that would fix anything.
When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Let’s go home, okay?” he coaxed, his voice gentle, as if nothing had happened. “I wasn’t thinking straight. Don’t be mad at me, baby.”
His hands stroked your arms as if to comfort you, but it felt suffocating.
“It won’t happen again,” he promised, his eyes pleading. “I love you.”
And just like that, he was leading you away from the party, his grip firm but careful, as if he hadn’t just shattered your trust into a million pieces.
By the time you both reached his apartment, Jake’s grip on your wrist had loosened, but the phantom weight of it still burned against your skin. As he fumbled with his keys, he shot you a small smile, his tone light, casual, even.
“Just remember, my roommate’s home, so we can’t be too loud, okay?”
You nodded numbly, but your mind spiraled. What would happen if you begged for help—would he even help you? Or would he just brush it off like everyone else at the party?
It seemed so simple, so easy. All you had to do was open your mouth.
But you couldn’t.
The words never came. The air felt too thick, the weight of Jake’s presence suffocating. It wasn’t fear exactly, it was something more complicated, something more deeply ingrained. Like no matter how much you wanted to, your body simply wouldn’t let you.
So when Jake was eventually leading you to his room while he undressed the both of you, stripping you both completely of any clothes, you just let him—too weak to put up a fight, too weak to resist the way his hand pressed against your body, touching you in ways that used to feel so loving and precious, to now malicious and unwanted.
You were just too exhausted to argue.
Your body felt heavy, like you were sinking into the floor with every step, but Jake didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he just didn’t care.
The door clicked shut behind you.
"Baby, you know I love you," he tried to tell you as he positioned himself in between your legs, spreading them wide, just like he did that day.
You couldn't even speak, not able to find the words, or maybe just too afraid to try. Your throat felt tight, like any attempt to talk would only come out as a broken whisper.
He brought his thumb up to your clit, rubbing gently at first, and then speeding up his movements. And as much as you hated it, your body reacted the way it wanted, with your hole getting wetter and your body heating up.
"C'mon, don't act like you don't like it," he said with a smirk, savoring the sight of you beneath him. So vulnerable, so weak. The feeling of control sent a rush through him.
Even with mascara streaks on your cheeks, tear stains, messy hair, dark circles, and swollen eyes, Jake still thought you looked beautiful. To him, you were breathtaking. Raw, unfiltered, completely his. He brushed a strand of messy hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your damp cheek.
"You have no idea how beautiful you are right now," he murmured, his voice dripping with something you couldn’t quite place. His thumb traced over your bottom lip, his eyes dark with emotion.
You wanted to recoil, to push him away, but your body felt heavy, drained. Instead, you just stared up at him, searching his face for any sign of the Jake you thought you knew. But you couldn't see anything.
This new feeling of power he had over you made his dick stand up, as he just stared at you and your emotionless eyes. Your face was sucked of all of it's life as he pushed his cock in, and this is where you realized that your boyfriend was gone. But he was never really ever there though. The man you thought you fell for, it all just crumbled before your eyes, revealing a stranger in his place. The man you thought you knew, the one who made you feel safe, had never truly existed.
"No, no stop. Pull out," you weakly attempted, hoping he would finally listen to you, but to no avail. He just kept on pushing in, sighing and momentarily pausing his movements once he bottomed out, before he was eventually pulling back and thrusting forward again.
"Don't worry, it'll feel good soon baby," he tried to hush you, but it only made things worse, intensifying the panic bubbling inside you as you struggled to push him away, your heart racing.
You shoved against his chest, panic rising as you struggled to break free. Every inch of you screamed to escape, but he wasn’t budging. His grip on your wrists tightened as he slammed you back against the bed. His eyes flashed with frustration.
“This is your warning,” he growled, voice low and threatening. “If you don’t stop, I won’t be nice anymore.”
But you didn’t care. If he wanted to play this game, you were going to play it. You continued to twist in his grasp as best as you could, determined to break free no matter what.
"Stop bitching," He grunted, his grip tightening as you continued to struggle. No matter how hard you tried to push him away, he didn't budge. His eyes burned with intensity as he held you in place, not showing any sign of his movements stopping inside of you. You could feel the tension in the air, but your defiance only grew stronger.
"Okay, that's it."
He seized a handful of your hair, the sharp sting of his unyielding grip making you cry out in pain. With a forceful tug, he yanked you off the bed, throwing you face first into the mattress. His weight pressed down on the back of your head, forcing you further into the fabric, the pressure relentless. You struggled for air, your screams drowned beneath the suffocating pressure of the mattress as you thrashed helplessly. Every movement felt weak, your body’s desperate attempts to break free only muffled in the fabric, leaving you feeling more trapped than ever.
"I told you," he began sternly. "I won't be nice anymore."
Keeping your head pinned against the bed with one hand, he pulled your arms behind your back, his grip unyielding as you fought against him. It was no use though, how the next thing you knew, he was shoving his full length into you all at once.
You screamed, the pain searing through you, unbearable and relentless. Every inch of your body screamed in protest, but the intensity only grew, leaving you feeling powerless and raw as he quickly built up a pace, so violent against your hole and violating your body in one go.
But the more you screamed, the tighter the pressure around your chest became, each gasp for air growing more desperate and shallow. The world around you seemed to blur, the pain and suffocation overwhelming every thought as you struggled for just a breath.
"Yeahhh... that's it," Jake sighed, moaning and throwing his head back.
"I like you better like this," he spat. He just couldn't help it. Your wetness was just jerking him off too good, pussy clenching around his cock, even though you hated every second of it.
That was what made it so intense—his absolute power over you. The way he controlled every movement, every breath you took, leaving you helpless and vulnerable. The fear mixed with something deeper, something you couldn’t quite name, but it made the struggle feel all the more real. His dominance was undeniable, and it made your every attempt to break free feel meaningless.
He just kept on going, slamming those muscular hips into yours, that were now probably bruised, weak, and way too sore to even stand up straight. At this point, you were too consumed by the struggle to breathe, your entire focus narrowing to each labored gasp. Everything else faded into the background—the pain, the fear, the fight—until all that mattered was the next breath, and even that felt like a distant hope. You stopped trying to fight it, the weight of it all crushing any will left to resist. It was as if you’d given up, surrendering to the overwhelming sensation of being trapped in this moment.
The pleasure you once felt from your boyfriend was now twisted, a distant memory drowned by the overwhelming sensations that felt far from comforting. What had once ignited warmth and connection now left you hollow, the intimacy corrupted by the force of control. Every touch that used to feel reassuring now seemed to carry a weight, shifting from something you craved to something you no longer recognized.
Your vision started to blur, the edges of everything softening as if a fog was slowly creeping in. The sounds of Jake's cock and your arousal squelching together became distant, muffled, like they were coming from underwater. Your thoughts turned hazy, slipping through your mind like water through your fingers, leaving only fragments of clarity. It was as if the world was dissolving into a haze, and no matter how hard you tried to hold on, everything felt heavier, slower, more distant.
As your consciousness began to slip away, your thoughts became a fractured blur. You could feel the edges of reality fading, like sinking into a dreamless void. The pain dulled into a distant echo, and the struggle to breathe became a quiet, desperate rhythm in the back of your mind. A sense of surrender washed over you, as if everything was slipping through your fingers, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. The world grew darker, quieter, until it all faded into nothing.
------------------------
The days after what happened felt like a blur of weakness, an overwhelming numbness that clung to every part of you. Your body was there, moving, but it didn’t feel like yours. You went through the motions, eating, sleeping, and existing, but the life had drained out of you, leaving you hollow. Jake begged you to stay with him for a few nights after what happened. He told you how sorry he was, how he’d messed up, and promised that he could make it up to you by being the "perfect boyfriend" again by cooking for you, cuddling you, treating you like nothing had changed. He even said he would make sure you felt happy again. And part of you wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that things could go back to normal, that somehow you could undo everything that had broken inside you.
But that wasn’t how it worked.
You didn’t know how to explain to Ava what had happened. You didn’t know how to say it aloud, to break down in front of her, to admit how broken you felt, how you’d lost yourself in a way that felt too overwhelming to put into words. It was too much, and the fear of being seen as a mess, of having her look at you with pity or confusion, kept you silent. So you stayed with Jake. You stayed in his room, cocooned in the strange comfort of him pretending everything was fine. He acted like nothing had changed, like the hurt he’d caused wasn’t there, and for a while, you let him.
You hadn’t gone to class in days. The weight of everything kept you locked in that room, a prisoner of your own inability to face what had happened. Jake was your only form of “entertainment,” your only distraction from the mess inside your head, even though, he was the one who planted that mess in the first place. But as much as you tried to convince yourself it was fine, the truth was clear: You were never the same after that night. Jake noticed, though not in the way you might’ve hoped. He noticed the way you didn’t smile anymore, the way your once sharp arguments with him turned into silence. He noticed how you withdrew into yourself, your eyes dull, your words fewer. But he didn’t care. In his mind, you were still his, still under his control, and that was all that mattered. Maybe to him, you were better like this.
Days passed in this strange, disconnected state. You no longer felt like yourself, but you didn’t know how to fight back or even what to fight for. The numbness only deepened, and you wondered if you would ever feel like you again.
Eventually, you couldn’t avoid facing the outside world forever. After almost a week, Jake agreed to let you go back to your place, so you could finally fix yourself up a bit.
You walked through the door of your apartment, expecting to be greeted with concern, with Ava asking where you’d been, why you hadn’t been answering her calls, why you hadn’t been to class. You expected a wave of relief, a safe place where someone might understand. But when you saw her standing there, her expression wasn’t relief—it was frustration, anger even.
She demanded to know where you had been, her voice sharp with worry and annoyance. “You’ve been gone for days. You didn’t show up for class. You wouldn’t pick up my calls, and now you just walk in here like everything’s fine?” Her words felt like a slap. “I was worried sick!”
You opened your mouth, wanting to say everything—everything that had happened with Jake, the way he’d broken you, how trapped you felt, how empty you were now. But as soon as you tried to speak, the words stuck in your throat. You couldn’t say it. You couldn’t tell her what had happened. Not like this. Not in a way that would make her understand.
“I-I’m sorry,” you stammered, trying to explain, but the words felt weak, disjointed. You wanted to say that Jake had hurt you, that everything had changed in ways you couldn’t explain. But when you looked at Ava’s face, you saw the doubt in her eyes, the skepticism.
“Jake?” She scoffed, shaking her head. “Jake is the nicest guy ever, you know that. Everyone loves him. He’s never even laid his hands on a fly.” Her words were sharp, cutting you off. “I don’t understand. Why would you even say something like that?”
The disbelief in her voice hit you harder than you expected. You wanted to tell her how wrong she was, how much you wished she could see the truth, but instead, you felt smaller. Like a part of you was breaking in front of her.
“I... I don’t know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I just need help, Ava. Please.”
But she wasn’t listening. She backed away, her arms crossed over her chest as if she couldn’t even fathom what you were saying. “I don’t even know if I can trust you anymore. I don’t even know who you are anymore.” Her words cut deep, and with each one, you felt more isolated, more abandoned in your own confusion.
Your heart sank. You had hoped she would believe you, hoped she would understand, but instead, she questioned you, as if what you were saying was the lie. The emptiness inside you grew, as if the world was slipping through your fingers. You were alone, and even the one person you thought would be there for you couldn’t, and wouldn’t understand. You weren’t sure how to fix any of this, or even if it could be fixed. All you knew was that you were broken, and no one seemed to care enough to help put you back together.
You came running back to Jake, broken, sobbing, feeling like there was nothing left of you. Everything you had known, everything you had thought was secure, was falling apart. Ava had turned her back on you, your closest friend, the one person you thought would understand. She didn’t believe you. She wouldn’t listen to the pain you’d endured, wouldn’t see the truth of what had happened. Her trust was gone, and with it, so was any semblance of the life you had before. Your family, too, was slipping away. You had pushed them all so far, not responding to any of their calls or messages, unsure how to explain what you were going through, or if you even could. The space between you and them only grew with each passing day.
Jake shushed you gently, his hands moving to soothe you as if he could wipe away the pain with each soft touch. He pulled you into his chest, cooing softly, assuring you that everything was fine now. You didn’t need anyone but him. He was there for you, he would always take care of you. He whispered over and over that everything would be okay, that the people who hurt you, your friends, your family, didn’t matter. He was all you needed now.
You found yourself spiraling, withdrawing more and more into the safety of Jake's arms. He was the only constant left in your life. The only person who seemed to care, or at least, you told yourself he did. He welcomed you back with open arms every time you ran to him, his hands soothing as he whispered over and over how sorry he was for everything, how he didn’t mean to hurt you. He promised he would make it up to you, and for some reason, you let yourself believe it. The promises of making things right, it felt comforting, like you were returning to something familiar.
And the more you spent time with him, the more you realized just how much of your life was slipping away. You stopped going to class, stopped seeing your friends, stopped reaching out to your family. You let it all go, burying yourself in Jake’s world. He was your everything now, your only source of comfort, your only form of connection.
And when Ava moved out of the apartment a few weeks later, it was like the final piece fell into place for Jake. He wasted no time in moving his things in with you. At first, you told yourself it was a relief. Now you’d have him all to yourself, no distractions, no one to intervene. But as he settled in, things began to change.
Jake’s presence started to feel suffocating. He had you all to himself now, and the isolation was complete. You no longer had anyone to lean on, no one to offer a second opinion, no one to speak truth to your doubts. He knew exactly what he was doing. He watched you, broken and fragile, clinging to him as though he were the only thing keeping you afloat. He could see it in your eyes, the vulnerability, the desperation. You were easy to manipulate now, and he wasn’t about to let that slip away. Every word he spoke was calculated, every story he spun designed to pull you deeper into his web.
He fed you lies, yes, but they weren’t just lies, they were carefully crafted truths, twisted versions of events that only he could control. He knew exactly what to say to make you doubt everything you thought you knew. With every lie, with every slanted version of reality, he watched your perception of the world begin to crumble, piece by piece.
You remembered that one night, months ago, when Ava had told you about how she kissed Jake during a spin the bottle game. It resurfaced in your mind randomly, and curious to hear his side of it, you hesitantly brought it up to Jake.
But when you mentioned it, Jake’s eyes turned cold for a moment. He shook his head vehemently. “No,” he said, voice tight. “Ava tried making moves on me that day. She was obsessed with me, always had been. But I never really reciprocated. She just couldn’t take a hint, you know?” He said it with such conviction, his words painting her in a way you hadn’t considered before.
The more you thought about it, the more it made sense. You started to believe that Jake was the only one who truly cared about you, the only one who understood you, and anyone else—especially Ava—was just a threat to your relationship.
He could see the doubt forming in your eyes, the way you hesitated before speaking, and he knew it was working. He was twisting the truth, slowly erasing the foundation you had built your friendships and relationships on. You were starting to believe him. It made him feel powerful, like he was the one who controlled your reality now. You were his.
And the best part? You didn’t even realize how deep he had dug in. He wasn’t just convincing you of lies, he was rewriting your entire past, making you question everything, even yourself. He was the one who had become your anchor, and the more he spoke, the more you trusted him, even when you felt a strange unease. The more you doubted the people who had once been in your life, the more you needed him. And Jake knew that. He thrived on it.
You didn’t realize it at first, but you started to build an entirely new narrative in your head. You told yourself that Ava had never been your friend at all, that she had been a threat to your relationship with Jake from the beginning. That’s why she was so mad when you tried to tell her what Jake had done to you. She didn’t care about your pain, she was just angry that you had gotten in the way of what she wanted. You convinced yourself that she was jealous, that she wanted Jake all along. The realization felt bitter and suffocating, but you pushed it down. You believed Jake. You had to. He was the only one who had stuck by you, the only one who hadn’t betrayed you.
And so, you cut ties. One by one, you stopped answering your friends’ calls, stopped replying to their messages. You didn’t need them anymore. They didn’t understand. They never would. Your best friend was gone, and with her, your past life. You blocked her number, you blocked all of them. Jake was the only one who remained. Jake was all you had left, and in some twisted way, you were okay with that.
------------------------
As the days turned into weeks, you felt yourself slowly becoming more isolated, but Jake reassured you that this was how it was supposed to be. He was all you needed. And when he started packing up his things to officially move in with you, you helped him, eager to keep the peace, to build the life that seemed perfect. But that’s when you stumbled upon something that shattered everything.
As you were helping Jake pack, moving boxes from his old place into yours, you found something you weren’t meant to see. Buried beneath a pile of clothes and books were items that didn’t belong to him. Items that were yours. Your things—your jewelry, your lost underwear, personal things you had kept in your apartment. You froze, a sick feeling twisting in your stomach as the truth hit you. You’d never realized it before, but now, it was all laid out in front of you.
Suddenly, it all clicked. You remembered how your bedroom door had never been pushed all the way closed that one day, or how something just felt off in the room, like a presence that wasn’t supposed to be there. You remembered all those clothes that had gone missing over the past few weeks, the shirts, the panties, the things you never thought to question before. It was as if everything you’d ignored or brushed off was now flooding your mind, each detail falling into place, connecting the dots in a way that made your stomach drop. The realization hit you hard, like a cold wave crashing over you.
Those subtle changes, those small signs that you had convinced yourself were nothing. Now, they felt like undeniable evidence.
He had been there. He had been in your space, when you weren’t looking. It was all starting to make sense, but the truth was so much darker than you had ever imagined.
You thought you knew him. You thought you had control over your own life. But now, as the pieces fell together, you understood just how much of it had all been carefully orchestrated. You hadn’t just been blind to his manipulation, you had been living in it, suffocating beneath it. And it wasn’t just your trust he had stolen. It was everything.
Jake had been here, in your life, controlling everything in ways you never even realized, and as the truth crashed down on you, you stood there, frozen, not knowing whether to scream, run, or finally face the man who had torn your world apart.
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strawberrysainz · 2 years ago
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i can see you. max verstappen (18+)
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“ you brush past me in the hallway / and you don't think i, i, i can see ya, do ya? ”
max verstappen x fem!wolff!reader
smut. don’t interact if you’re under 18. alcohol consumption, profanity.
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Your eyes follow the box of gum being passed around in the car. You sit in the left backseat; the blacked out car is filled with four Mercedes employees that are painful strangers.
The girl next to you offers you a stick of the gum, which you accept gratefully. It’s Saturday morning, and your elbows bump against hers as you try to adjust your earphones.
The Fleetwood Mac album floats through your ears, bringing forward memories of being a little kid dancing in someone’s room to the CD. You must’ve been in between your mom and dad then. You tense slightly at the memory, and the rapid German that fills the car from the other four makes you feel soothed.
Entering the paddock, some summery song is floating through your AirPods, and the tune is hitting different today so you smile.
The photographers obviously take the opportunity that your smile brings to snap pictures (you’re usually grumpy) and you’re standing in front of Red Bull’s garage talking to some girls who work there that you clubbed with a while back when he walks out, brushing past, his fingers accidentally grazing your forearm.
You feel full of fire as you look away from the group to look at him and his eyes meet yours, looking back. The moment is interrupted by your mother calling on the phone, and you excuse yourself to go back to Mercedes’ motorhome.
🎱☕️🏎️💌
You two meet again in Austria.
This time you nod back when he walks past, nodding, and Christian Horner shouts something to Susie that has her fake laughing.
He wins the sprint race, and you catch a glimpse of him after, holding the trophy up in celebration in the paddock. He’s smiling widely, eyes full of laughter, and you’re not. You’re a blur of dark hair and dark eyes and a dismissive look across the pathway and he’s staring and you’re turning away, feeling burned.
That Sunday night (he wins the race) you find each other for a split second in the club; you’re talking to some guy and he yaps your ear off while you stare at him across the dance floor.
Then Max turns around and finds your face amongst the masses, indifferent before turning back.
You nod to the empty air.
🎱☕️🏎️💌
At Silverstone you’re much happier below the podium, and Lando pours champagne directly on your head from above as you screech.
Max watches.
You’re hugging Lewis afterwards when those icy eyes are on you again, and a feeling races through you as you turn around to shake his hand amicably. A bolt of energy rushes through you as his hand grasps yours, and you’re not sure what he says above the noise but you smile and say ‘well done’ like your father raised you.
🎱☕️🏎️💋
Budapest is warm. You see him on Wednesday night on the river.
You’re donning a short skirt and a strappy top, eager to curb the discomfort of the heat.
Lando had organised a boat trip down the Danube and invited you, some other drivers and his friends and all of their partners.
You don’t expect to see Max there; but you’re silly for doing so, because they’re close, aren’t they.
You’ve got an Aperol Spritz when he taps your upper thigh when you walk past and you look down, eyes wide, and he gestures for you to sit next to him.
You sit down on the cushion, legs folding beneath you gracefully as you have this urge to shift the skirt a little bit up your thighs innocently.
His gaze is heavy and intense as he trails it from your exposed thighs to your face, and you look at him neutrally, chatting about some paddock gossip, and to your surprise he acts as if nothing had happened, and indulges in your stupid small talk.
The Aperol disappears and you’re a bit buzzed.
“Your dad spoke to me about you the other day,” he says bluntly, and your lips quirk.
“Really? About what?”
He smirks.
You laugh.
🎱☕️🏎️💋
You’ve convinced him to get a beer in his system an hour later, and your head is resting on your hand, hair falling down as you listen to him talk about his cats.
Carlos comes to join then, and whatever he had going on with you disappears as he talks with the two of you.
You flirt with Carlos anyway, annoyed with the lack of action on his part.
Carlos gladly reciprocates, hand gliding up a thigh after you ask dumb questions and you bite a lip, eyes dark, and Max looks furious.
You lean in to whisper something in Carlos’ ear, red lipstick leaving a mark on his cheek when Max excuses himself and you move closer to the Spaniard, waving goodbye with a smirk on your face.
🎱☕️🏎️💋
You don’t kiss Carlos when the night ends, and you wave him a goodbye, turning to go, when you feel Max’s hand around your wrist.
You turn around and roll your eyes, beginning to walk to the Uber. Max doesn’t say anything, just gets in with you. You choose the middle seat, childishly brushing your bare thigh against his jeans.
You notice he’s screwing his eyes shut, physically refraining from something.
You feel like a teenager trying to seduce a guy and it’s working, you suppose, when you tuck your hair behind your ear, exposing your neck, and he stiffens.
Ten minutes later, at the back entrance of the hotel, you slide out, thanking the driver, and turn to look at Max with your eyebrows raised. He huffs and walks to you, shoving you against the wall.
His lips go to your neck, and you’re still, and he’s kissing you then, hard and intense, and your legs are weak when he slides a hand up your thigh.
You break away, pulling him away inside.
🎱☕️🏎️💋
Stumbling into the hotel room clumsily, he’s pushing you against the bathroom door, and you’re staring at his body against yours in the mirror, and he’s murmuring what a dirty girl you are and you’re shivering with excitement.
“Fuck you,” you whisper when he’s pulling off your top and bra, and he’s laughing incredulously when he’s leaning down and you’re moaning when he starts to brush his thumb against your nipple, and you’re all wriggly when you pull off his shirt and trace his stomach, eyes lidded.
Your eyes go down to his boxers where the outline of his cock is clear and you pull it out, thick and firm, the tip weeping as you brush it and he moans loudly, and he’s kissing you desperately and you’re so wet.
His fingers slide under your skirt and pull down your panties, and he glides his fingertips over your pussy quickly before you’re whining when he nudges your clit, and he’s kissing you again. Your back arches against the door.
He pushes into you and you’re both a mix of curses and delicious moans, and after a moment he begins to move, fast, and after a minute or so you’re screaming his name as he slams into you again and again.
He comes quickly; you smirk as his hips stutter, and his fingers find your clit before you’re begging him for things you can’t explain, and with a minute of his fingers circling your clit roughly, the thickness of his fingertips nudging you over and over with some kind of horrible preciseness, you come, hard. All over his hand. He’s kissing your neck again and again, and you’re staring at him for the first time clearly, this man you know nothing about, and his hand grips your hair as he kisses you again, and you feel alive.
🎱☕️🏎️💋
He’s waiting for you in a passage the next day, and you smile with a spring in your step as you walk straight past, hand touching his for a moment, watching him walk away in your peripheral.
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Liked by landonorris, susiewolff and 127,356 others
yourinstagram Bye bye Budapest x
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🎱☕️🏎️💋
part 2? thoughts? let me knooowww xxxx
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blueiscoool · 5 months ago
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Rome’s Ancient Arch of Constantine Struck by Lightening
During a storm on September 3, lightning struck Rome’s Arch of Constantine, chipping the structure’s marble surface. The 1,700-year-old arch and its neighbor, the Colosseum, were two of several sites affected by the thunderstorm, which produced 2.36 inches of rain in less than an hour. Usually, the city sees a similar amount over the entire month of September.
“A lightning strike hit the arch right here and then hit the corner,” a tourist at the site told Reuters’ Alberto Lingria. “We saw this fly off,” the tourist added while pointing to a fallen block of stone.
Finished in 315 C.E., the Arch of Constantine is one of Rome’s three surviving ancient triumphal arches, each erected to honor a person or event. This arch commemorates Constantine I’s 312 victory over the emperor Maxentius. That same year, Constantine devoted himself to Christianity—the first Roman ruler to do so.
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The fierce storm also felled two large trees near the Circus Maximus, flooded the Trevi Fountain and flooded the Colosseum’s subterranean tunnels, reports CNN. After lightning struck the arch, staff of the Colosseum Archaeological Park quickly gathered its dislodged pieces and placed them in a secure location, according to a statement from Italy’s Ministry of Culture.
In the days that followed, some tourists stumbled upon additional pieces on the ground.
​​“My American group found these fragments, and we’re handing them over to the workmen,” tour guide Serena Giuliani told the London Times’ Tom Kington on the morning of September 4.
Specialists are now examining the condition of the fragments. Officials say the damage was limited to the monument’s southern side, where unrelated restoration work had started just days earlier, allowing for quick repairs.
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At roughly 70 feet tall and 85 feet wide, the Arch of Constantine contains three separate arches, each framed by columns. The intricately decorated structure is adorned with recycled fragments, or spolia, taken from other ancient buildings, including monuments honoring Trajan, Hadrian and Marcus Aurelius.
The arch is also decorated with carvings of Constantine, including a series of reliefs depicting his victorious fight against Maxentius in the Battle of the Milvian Bridge.
In 306, Constantine was leading Roman troops in Britain—then part of the Roman Empire—when his military declared him their emperor. His brother-in-law, Maxentius, also declared himself the emperor around the same time. After years of complex power struggles, the two rulers ultimately faced off in 312 at Rome’s Milvian Bridge, which overlooks the river Tiber. Panels on the Arch of Constantine depict the battle’s conclusion, showing Maxentius’ troops drowning in the river.
The arch’s recent encounter with lightning may have carried spiritual significance for its ancient builders, as “the bolts were believed to be the work of the gods,” per the Times. These spots were sacred for the Romans, who sometimes erected temples at such sites.
By Sonja Anderson.
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httpiastri · 7 months ago
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first of all CONGRATS ON 3K!! 💗😫 I've loved your Pepe work and I'm so checking out your other works 😭💗
saw the 3k celly and I couldn't resist myself 👉👈
how do we feel about a small Pepe blurb with the touch starved prompt: "one just casually sitting down on the other's lap and they start internally freaking the hell out" ??
furthermore,, could it be the reader being the one that is touch starved and Pepe just casually grabs em and sits them on his lap and is the reader the one freaking out?? 🤭
🍈 – send me a driver and a prompt from this list of hugging prompts, these touch starved prompts, or these kiss prompts, and i will write a short blurb for you!!
author's note: thank you so much!! and im glad you like them aaa 🥺 i loved this idea !!!! but lol i thought a blurb was 500 words, not 100-200. still doesnt explain why this is 1.2k. 😶 i had time over on my flight so this (and the paul "blurb" ive got scheduled for later) was the result. hope u enjoy :)
3k celly !!
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(college!)pepe marti x reader
there are a lot of fun ways to spend a free saturday evening.
but being squeezed into a room with a bunch of drunk students, with music so loud you can barely think? not one of them.
you had been about to refuse your friend's suggestion to tag along, as you always do, before she had uttered the magic words. pepe will be there.
you were already planning outfits in your mind when the words left her mouth, suddenly feeling like no piece of clothing you own is enough to impress him. how could any piece of clothing ever be good enough for someone like him?
disappointment, though no surprise, fills you when your friend leaves you the second you enter the apartment of some guy in her physics class, to search for that other guy she's been crushing on for weeks now. so, here you are, in the living room belonging to some student you don't know, being pushed around by students you also don't know, with some song that you've never heard blasting from the speakers.
thankfully, even in a crowded apartment like this one, it isn't hard to find pepe. the sound of his sweet, intoxicating laughter can be heard from miles away.
he's sitting on a couch in the corner of the room, red solo cup in one hand and phone in the other. he's showing something on his phone to his best friend christian who's sitting next to him, his giggles sending a wave of relief through your body.
pepe's eyes light up when they meet yours, a sliver of surprise in his smile as you make your way over to him. he says your name like it's what he was made to do, like no other words have ever fallen from his lips. "i almost didn't believe your friend when she told me you'd join her tonight," he tells you. "i'm surprised."
"i'm full of surprises," you answer, tilting your head to the side slightly.
"of course you are. like that dress, very surprising." that statement isn't very surprising in itself; your friend, ever the fashionista, noticed your stress over your choice of outfit for the night instantly, lending you one of her favorite dresses with the words you'll look adorable, he won't be able to stay away. but the fact that pepe has noticed you enough to at least in some way collect an idea of the types of clothes you would and wouldn't wear is surprising to send a shiver down your spine. "you look great."
you can't control the redness that threatens to spread across your cheeks at that, but your gaze shifts to the ground to at least lessen some of your flusteredness. pepe doesn't miss the gentle smile that makes its way onto your lips, though. christian understands this as his cue to leave, jumping out of his seat and bolting away in just a second. pepe taps the now free spot on the couch, and you slip down next to him without another thought.
"did you get to the kitchen already?" he asks, gaze burning into the side of your face as you pretend like fixing the hem of your dress is something you actually need to do and not just a way to occupy yourself. "or do you want me to go get you something to drink?"
you shake your head, eyes flickering over to him again. "i'm alright for now, but thank you."
he nods over his cup, bringing it up to his lips to take a sip. the action has the muscles of his arm contracting and… has he always been this muscular, or is it just the light of the apartment? either way, he makes it look so casual – he probably doesn't know he's the object of your current mental assessment – as if the feeling of his jeans against your bare knee isn't distracting enough. "i'm glad you came," he says after he's lowered the cup. "the party was bound to be boring without you."
there it is again; that relief you felt earlier. a sliver of a confirmation that this thing that's been going on between you two these last few weeks isn't just one-sided. unless he's just toying with you, as you've heard certain men like to do, which doesn't exactly help soothe your worries.
but pepe isn't like that, you have to remind yourself. that's one of the reasons you fell for him in the first place; he's gentle in a way you can't credit a lot of men to being, like a mild breeze instead of a full-blown storm.
someone turns the music up even more, something you would've assumed was impossible a minute ago, as if to say you're thinking too much. fewer thoughts, please.
you take a deep breath, eyes meeting his. "i'm glad you're here, too."
"what?"
you let out a short laugh at the way his face contorts as he tries to hear what you're saying over the loud music. "i said," you start, voice growing louder. "i'm glad you're here, too."
pepe nods, though you're not sure if he actually understood or if he's just faking it, before saying something you have no chance of catching. you raise your eyebrows, tilting your head slightly and jokingly bringing a hand up to the back of your ear to hear him better. you did not expect him to lean forward, nor the warm huff of air that meets your ear when he speaks into it. "it's a little too loud, isn't it?"
you nod when he leans back to look at you, the corners of your lips tugging upward at the sight of his own smile. you shrug, trying to figure out a way to solve the issue; you came here to talk to him, not to just sit next to him all quietly because you can't hear each other. you gaze around the apartment, only to find a pair of speakers placed in about every corner of it, which brings back that disappointing feeling from when your friend left you just minutes ago.
but pepe has other plans. before you can interject, his hands find your hips and lift you up to straddle his thighs sideways. it's a swift motion, and he makes it seem like you weigh about five grams, leaving you pretty completely speechless. "i figured we'd hear each other better like this," he says, one hand reaching over to grab his cup again from where he must've placed it on a table nearby just moments ago, while his other hand stays planted on your hip. when you don't say anything, his eyes rake over your face, a hint of guilt in his expression. "sorry, is this okay?"
you take a deep breath, pushing the butterflies in your stomach away for just a moment and gathering the courage to nod. "yeah," you say, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "i just… wasn't expecting that."
the chuckle he lets out vibrates through your body, too. "well, get used to it." that damn smile of his appears again, the one you just can't stop yourself from mimicking. "i like having you close."
as his hand slips past your hip and around your waist, you allow yourself to lean into him a little, impressed by the way you find yourself enjoying your new seat very much.
impressed by the way it feels like this seat was made just for you.
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