#huuuh theres so little to tag damn

[kakujis]

you what?;

a/n: hey... remember a couple months ago i said i wanted to write out what happens after this? well i did, it just took me a while! also sorry, i think i just write a pretty soft whitney so sue me!!! also, i definitely wrote the first half 4 months ago and the last half today LOL. oh reader is in love w whitney bc IM in love w whitney. >:)

wc: 2.01

warnings: afab!reader, overstim, oral f!receiving (with whitney?! blasphemy), unprotected, creamp*e , usage of the words slut n whore, violence, itty bitty angst, not proofread, that should be it! lmk if i forgot any!

“i think,” hesitates a slight boy from behind. “i think that’s Whitney’s girl.” 

“fuck,” the taut boy says, releasing you at once. “don’t tell him i touched you.” the pair shove past you, leaving you to compose yourself. 

you sigh, brushing your skirt back down. at least i can get to class in time. grabbing your bookbag you head towards the door. as you leave, you jump at the sound of banging metal. 

“shit! we’re sorry! serious-“ the two boys that were assaulting you earlier are unfortunately between a locker and whitney. his friends stand by his side, blocking their escape. the boy’s friend cowers by him, holding his head in his hands. 

“answer me. don’t tell me what?” whitney hisses with a swift kick to the taut boy’s stomach. he stands bent over, hands in his pocket, his right foot raised.

as quietly as you can, you start to walk the other way. no way. there’s no way i’m getting detention for being late again. i’ll just go and-

“oi, whit, ain’t that your girl?” one of his friends asks. 

fuck. 

you freeze, keeping your head down while hugging your bag tightly. whitney’s scary when he’s mad, even if it’s not at you. 

whitney smiles, before lowering his foot back onto the ground. swiftly, he turns, and you hear the squeak of his shoes heading towards you. 

its not long before you feel his hand in your hair, wincing as he pulls, no, drags you towards the cowering boys. “c’mere, youre gonna tell me what happened.” 

once close enough, he releases your hair and shoves you forward. he grabs your arm right as you feel your balance slipping. his nails dig into your skin and you find yourself staring down at the meek figures. 

“alright slut, spill it. what happened?” he asks, holding you in place. 

you can’t help but feel bad. tears roll down the taut boy’s face, his gaze downcast. but lying to whitney has consequences and you don’t particularly want to face them. 

so you tell him. starting with how the encounter itself was brief and nothing happened- 

“but they still tried to touch what’s mine, right?” he says, his grip tightening even more. 

“w-whit, that hurts..” you squeak, hoping he’ll let up. he has to be leaving a mark at this point. his face is unreadable as you look back over your shoulder. 

“then answer me, stupid.” he says, beginning to twist your arm. the pain starts shooting up your limb, burning. 

“yes! yes they tried..” you yell, “please, just let go!” 

and he does, pulling you behind him. “sit.” 

and you do, holding your battered arm. what happens next doesn’t surprise you, whitney and his friends take turns assaulting the boys, kicking and punching. 

you close your eyes and wait, for what seems like an eternity for the abuse to stop. by the end, the two boys are crying and trembling, crumpled on the floor. whitney squats down, grabbing the taut boy’s hair and bringing up to look at him one last time. 

he moves closer and whispers something in his ear. his eyes widen as he nods profusely. “n-never again, w-we’ll never even look at her ever again.” 

“good.” whitney lets go, the boy’s head dropping. he turns toward you, holding his hand out. “let’s go.” 

tentatively, you grab his hand, bracing yourself. to your surprise he helps you up gently, looking you over, as if he didn’t just shove you around too. once satisfied, he slings his arm around you and starts dragging you down the hallway. his friends follow shortly after. 

 “what? didn’t like the show?” he smirks, lowering his arm to your waist. 

truth be told, you didn’t necessarily like it, but you felt a little warm thinking about how he protected you. but you knew you couldn’t condone it. nervously thumbing at your bag strap, you mumble “i just think… you’re a little too mean sometimes. did you really have to go so-“ 

“we’re here.” he interrupts and you’re hit with some deja vu. you find yourself standing in front of the same empty classroom from earlier. he opens the door and shoves you in. 

ah, of course this is what he wants. not actually to protect you, more so to make sure no one else can use you. you’re disappointed because deep down you thought maybe, just maybe, he could’ve at least pretended he cared about you more than that.  

“not in front of your friends… please.” you say, fighting back some tears. god, you were stupid. your request was for some semblance of dignity, because what was he? he certainlywasn’t yours, but you were always his. 

he mulls it over, eyeing your downcast form, before nodding. he shoots a glance at his friends to leave and keep watch outside. 

“so tell me, what the fuck are you upset about now?” he sighs as he grips your chin with his hand, forcing you to look up at him. “afraid more monsters are gonna get you?” he mocks, trying to not laugh. 

you’re not sure why you feel so compelled to tell him, to feel any kind of care from him at all. why? he’s an asshole who assaults you on the daily, emotionally and physically. and yet, you still spit back at him. 

“am i just something to use?” hot tears spill down your face, coating his fingertips, “do you even care about me or do you really think i’m just that stupid-“ 

“yes,” he interrupts bringing his face closer to yours, glaring. “maybe if you weren’t so fucking stupid and stopped letting others touch you, then i wouldn’t have to remind them. but you’re too fucking naive aren’t you?” 

he pins you to the nearest desk, his leg in between your thighs. you can’t help but let out a small moan when his thigh makes contact with your clothed cunt. you bite on your lip, trying to stifle your noises, his friends were outside. 

whitney continues, “i do so much for your stupid ass and you’re going to cry over it? all because you got your feelings hurt?” 

soon enough you’re practically bouncing on his thigh with the wetness between your legs starting to seep through your underwear. fuck, you hope he doesn’t notice you broke a rule. if he does, he doesn’t comment instead focusing on finding a rhythm that makes you moan harder. he’d never admit it, but your moans are like music to his ears, a constant reaffirmation of what is his. 

“are you wet slut?” he growls, breath hot as he nips at your ear. you whine in response as he continues down, peppering your throat with bites and licks. releasing his grip on your face, he starts tugging at your shirt. 

“take this off, now.” he commands, and you oblige with shaky hands. he throws your garment to the side, removing his leg to quickly tear off your skirt and underwear. you whimper at the loss of stimulation, cheeks burning as you stand on display. 

he looks you over, eyes trailing down your body with w pleased hum. “no wonder everyones so eager to fuck my bitch.” you feel yourself deflate at his words, soyou sink to your knees and begin crawling up to him. 

he slaps your hands away when you try to grab for his belt and you blink, perplexed. he looks annoyed, but the thumb running over your mouth says otherwise. “i didn’t say you could suck me off,” he sounds mean, but there’s a blush tinting his face as he pushes you down, back flush to the floor. 

“whit?” you question, eyes wide and mind tumbling. 

“shut up,” he says, as he spreads your legs, “before i change my fucking mind.” 

settling himself between your thighs, he glances up at you once more before flicking his eyes toward the door. you look back, the form of his friends against the door, as if a warning to keep quiet, that’s right, he’d be mortified if his friends saw he was the one giving pleasure and not receiving it. you make eye contact and nod at him as he scoffs, a little annoyed you know him so well, and then he’s diving in. 

little kitten licks against your clit and sloppy long ones in between your folds have you keeling, into his mouth. he digs his nails into your thighs as you squirm and struggle to stay still. throwing one arm over your waist, he keeps you in place, as his tongue fucks your hole languidly. 

he’s never gone down on you before, the feeling is foreign, yet so good. you try your best to stay quiet, you really do, but you can’t help but have a breathless “f-fuck,” escape as his tongue massages your gummy walls. his hand comes down to slap your pussy hard and you yell before you use a hand to cover your mouth and glance back at the door. 

he replaces his tongue with his fingers, disconecting from you with a sticky string of saliva. “keep your fucking mouth shut, dumb slut or i’ll tell my friends to come in so they can watch me face fuck you.” he snarls, curling his fingers  in as he finishes his sentence, hitting right at your sweet spot.

you bite down on your lip, shaking your head frantically, as you watch his friends joke around outside. he curls his fingers in again, and your eyes roll back, before he’s shifting up and grabbing your face. 

“eyes on me, dummy.” he glares and you nod, watching as you settles back into his original position. continuing to finger you, he latches back onto your clit, suckling the bundle of nerves. you card your fingers through his hair and he grunts in response, picking up the pace of his digits and his tongue. 

its not long before you’re cumming, bucking up into his mouth as he struggles to hold you still. you bite hard enough to draw blood as your orgasm runs through you, body trembling and shaking as he pulls off, too distracted to notice to the sound of his belt undoing. 

he lines up with your twitching hole before he sinks himself in, you gasp clawing at his arms. “my turn.” he says through gritted teeth, giving you no time to adjust as he slams into you setting off a brutal pace. 

he doesn’t bother shutting you up now, your moans ripping through the air with little intermissions of “wait! whit too much, too much!” tears prickling your eyes as he abuses your cunt. 

“don’t fuckin’ care,” he grunts, “i can use you whenever i want,” his nails once again digging into your hips. pain always turns to pleasure with whitney, your overstimulated body once again burning with desire. 

he laughs as your legs wrap around his waist, “feels good, huh?” 

“mm, yeah,” you hiccup, pretty eyes rolling back, “feels so good, whit.” 

the grip on your hip gets even tighter, “gonna cum again?” he starts, but his thrusts are getting sloppier with each throb of your cunt on his cock. 

you nod at him, “yeah ‘m gonna,” you mumble, staring up at him through hazy eyes. 

he wraps one hand around your throat, squeezing lightly, “then do it, whore.” and you do. 

wrapping your hand around his wrist as you convulse again, entire body shaking. whitney isn’t too far off after you, filling your cunt with spurts of white. 

“love you,” you pant as he pulls off and out of you. he hesitates for a second and you’re not sure why you felt the need to tell him. 

he looks at you, no, analyzes you and your fucked out face alongside your cunt that leaks with his seed. he opens his mouth, as if he wants to say something before he shakes his head, a little confused. he grabs your clothes and throws them back at you. he walks to the door, leaving you to get dressed but you don’t mind, noting the little smile he tries to hide on his face.