#or i think half of it maybe not sure how far i ever got
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
This came to me in a dream but imagine.
Max Verstappen x MotoGP!male!reader. They're very similar, both started very young, they both have four championships and they're both Dutch. But Max is well, Max and reader is an absolute sweetheart and cinnamon roll.
Thank you!
just read all abt motogp and didn't realize how fucking cool it was until now so ty for that! gonna start watching it this season!

max verstappen x motogp!male!reader
synopsis: two racers, both alike in dignity, in fair motorsports, where we lay our scene- you and max are very similar in a lot of ways yet so different that you guys just make it work
author's note: motogp, i was not familiar with your game. but srsly i have to start watching bc just reading and researching on it had me so pumped up at 11:45 last night bc i forgot to rest up 😅 worth it bc AHAHAHAJDLLWWN <- that's how im feeling abt motogp. hope you like it!
you guys are so similar before you even knew each other
you both started around the same time, being the youngests to ever race in your respective sports
fans were quick to point out the parallels between the two of you
you won a good set of races (even if it's hard to do) and max was dominating the f1 world
plus you guys were both dutch
so everyone's all like "what the hell do they feed those motosports kids in the netherlands?"
you guys meet in like some random gp, maybe yours maybe his but either way a random gp
im thinking cota lowkey before daniel was booted (rip king)
so like daniel sets you guys up practically
turns out you got along amazingly, followed each other on instagram and like added each other on whatsapp and stuff
like you guys really hit off
you talk and get to know each/build a stable friendship for like a year and half before you ask him out
he says yes of course, claiming he was just about to do it and you stole his spotlight
you don't care because you are just happy to have date with someone you've come to care a lot about
you go on this date, probably to the beach because you still aren't sure what he wants to eat and when
you guys start being official shortly after
skip forward and you have won your second championship and max as one so far so you guys are out celebrating and stuff
fans spot you, ask for some pictures and notice how drastically different your personalities are
like you seem all cheery and happy all the time while max only seems to enjoy himself when he's with you or other people he likes
but they also realize how perfect you guys are and how much you counter balance each other
like one gets too overwhelmed the other is taking them home and obviously vice versa
and you guys are so so supportive
like if your bike decides not to work and you have to quit mid-race, max is there to support whether actually at the circuit or over facetime
if max has a particularly bad race, you are supporting him in anyway you can to make sure he knows how talented and amazing he is
you guys don't fight a lot, but when you do you guys are both lowkey overdramatic and realize like ten minutes later how stupid the argument was and then make up/make out over it
anyways
anytime you guys can, you support each other
like if there just happens to be the races on the same day, you make sure to tell max before and after your race how amazing and proud of him you are and max makes sure everyone knows what an amazing boyfriend you are
also championship celebrations are insane
like drunk asf, waking up sire the next day
you guys are just happy you got to celebrate them together
even if max is a little overprotective
not as much as you though, because some guy looked at max the wrong way at a bar one time and you just about punched out his lights
look, you're sweet and all but you love max and don't want people to judge that
plus you are a max defender til the day you die
you tried getting max to ride your bike that you have a home, but he almost broke his arm and you almost got berated by horner
but horner's opinion doesn't matter to you because he's horner—pretty self explanatory i think
you guys will sometimes go karting together but max always wins (you jokingly accuse him of cheating to win but he just has a cheeky smile)
its always fun because you guys really just like to battle on track
though you are less aggressive both in your motogp driving and on the kart
max, well, you guys know how max's driving is
also i feel like you would drive him around, if that makes any sense
like he screams passenger princess to me and i don't really understand it but you know what, fuck it we ball
TAGS! (if you want to be added, lmk!)
@op-81-lvr-reblogs, @koalapastries, @justaf1girl, @ghostking4m, @spoonfulofmilo, @seonghwaexile, @alex-wotton, @raizelchrysanderoctavius
#oli's 100 event#formula one x reader#formula one x male reader#f1 x reader#f1 x male reader#formula 1 x male reader#formula 1 x reader#max verstappen x male reader#max verstappen x reader
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
@dreamerdrop #.oh god. that would catapult julian’s need to express love by fixing people into overdrive.#.he’d work himself ragged trying to help her until he’s a sleep deprived miserable mess. [...] #.the horror of julian bashir feeling responsible for someone’s wellbeing. #.when his first experience with that was his parents who decided that Happiness and Wellbeing were two very different things.
God. To start with, he'd read every book on this sort of trauma, attend every course, spend half of *his* sessions with Counsellor Telnorri sidetracked on methods of therapy that might help Sarina. And he'd be getting nowhere. He'd be reaching out to other Federation counsellors, trying to get someone to help, but none can be spared in person - not with the war and the shortage of them in Starfleet, especially not when DS9 already has a counsellor, and certainly not for one, singular augment.
And I think he'd be patient, and sweet, and kind to her. But he'd also be incredibly frustrated that she wasn't getting better, and that he wasn't good enough to make her better, and be utterly convinced that there must be some way to reach her, to communicate. But trauma works on its own timeline, and there's nothing he can do to change that.
Some weeks later, he gets a communication from a Doctor Lowes, who's woken up to discover that her patients have been spread out across the world. She asks after Sarina, requests a subspace call so she can speak to her - but also includes a recreation of Sarina's medical file: her background, her history, her personality.
Of course! thinks Julian, bitterly. Why didn't I think of that? Because he sees now that he was going about trying to 'fix her' in completely the wrong way. Her silence wasn't because of the bombing - it was a symptom of her enhancements! Which means there could be a surgical solution to this, even if he has to reinvent genetic engineering himself. That's something he could do.
And of course, once he thinks of it, there's no stopping him. And honestly, I'm not sure if anyone would try to. They all know how attached Julian's become to Sarina - they've all become quite attached, honestly - and at least initially it would seem like an endeavour worth Julian's effort.
Unlike in Chrysalis, however, Jack and Lauren and Patrick aren't there to help recalibrate the medical probe, so Julian doesn't have anyone to turn to when Miles takes a look of it and tells him it's impossible, that you can't break the laws of physics. He's only got himself. And once he gets obsessively into engineering, to the point where it's all he talks about, even with Sarina... When his calm patience wears thin from weeks of guilt and insomnia and disappointments, and he starts getting frustrated with Sarina, certain she could help him if only she could do something — that's when the others realise that it's far past the time to bring him back from all this.
---
I can also completely imagine the same situation for your first consideration. Julian being driven to try and "fix" all three of them, because if they can pass for normal, like he could, then maybe they won't be targeted, maybe they'll be able to keep out of danger and look after themselves, maybe they won't be at risk anymore because of him... It's not just his desire to help, or feeling of responsibility - it's a necessary penance for the bombing ever happening in the first place.
Today on "Hurting Julian With Unneccesarily Awful Things": after Julian gets outed, there is an upswelling of anti-augment sentiment, with radical groups using his "terrifying deception in the heart of Starfleet" to rouse people's fear and anger. There are protests; there is violence—
And one night, Julian's woken up by a sorrowful-looking Sisko, who tells him that he's sorry, but he didn't want Julian to find out any other way. There's been an attack. It's the Insitute. It's been bombed.
#<3 <3 <3#your tagsss 😭😭#yea jadzia would be there i'm imagining this being pretty soon after the augment reveal#just you know#making the worst few months of his life even more fun#fic ideas#andi writes#julian bashir#wsb
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
can I just go back three years and never stop caring about dan and phil and get into DSMP and MCYT and then Death Note (I don't regret Jack Manifold tho)... never leave my old mutuals behind... never grow up....
#never go through all of real high school (it didn't suck but it's almost over therefore my life as i know it is almost over. terrifying)#i felt really well for a bit but now i feel unwell. i think i need to eat dinner#missing everybody yet again...#FUCK DAMIMIT#just realized i'm reading this book (Lycanthropy and Other Chronic Illnesses it's really good) adn the MC's tumblr BFF is named Bridget#I USED TO HAVE A TUMBLR MUTUAL NAMED BRIDGET *cries* we're still mutuals in spirit....#I said this#personal#ionna... kris... caro... may... simon... happylittlecactus and more i don't remember... saph! miss u guys#i only see the old post editor when i edit old posts -- one can't swtich back anymore...#21 questions is playing right now I WATCHED JULIE AND THE PHANTOMS just because ionna and others were really into it#or i think half of it maybe not sure how far i ever got
1 note
·
View note
Text
i cant believe the day but i finally got a full tower pc. bought it already built and at a considerable discount of some 320 dollars off. its fucking huge and theres so many things going on inside... i was initially planning on choosing the parts myself but finding the graphics card was so hard and everyone else convinced me to just buy it built and honestly? good. id probably have fucked this up so badly by myself
i cant use it yet bc i took too long to buy the monitor that was also on sale and now its regular price -_- tho i managed to find a discount used one for now. well see how that goes since ill get it tomorrow. i tested it on out living room tv and it had some kaspersky thingy open and like thats so cute. i hope they left some treats in the browsing history for me to search through before i wipe it clean
#its a hexer case and wouldnt you guess the front has a hexagonal pattern. so pretty..#it came with 3 fans installed there too that have a cmyk color style to them and it looks quite neat. im thinking of buying some leds to pu#inside the case to go with my keyboard tho idk if id go that far tbh (< gamer rot is setting in. im not immune to pretty lighting..)#its also got a lot of unused space inside. im thinking of making more sculptures to put in. though idk if thatd be safe for it#bc cold porcelain is glue and water. what if it evaporates inside and suddenly everythings covered in a glue film#i wonder if varnish would help? the transparent nail polish sure didnt do shit it came off like 2 days after sculpting the rw slug sleeping#which like yeah of course. its nail polish. but i didnt expect it to flake since all it does is sleep on top of my laptop keyboard#i need miniature glass cake cover tops to encapsule every sculpture inside for safety#looking at it still no wonder these are called towers gotdamn its legit so huge..#it looks awkward tho bc i cant fully make it glue to the wall bc of the cables so its like. awkwardly a bit in front of the wall#im scaared as to how to tell if it ever gets too hot. on a laptop u just press ur head against the left half and feel how hot it is#i think im gonna need software for this.. sigh. tho maybe ill never get to that point since its supposed to be decent#AND its not 8 years old + the 3 fans and gpu fan and cpu fan. surely thats enough. the case even has space for more than that!!#the acrylic side reflects my keyboard too. so niceys. stimulation for my creature eyes#my desk is gonna be so fucked up when i have to organize everything too bc the one i have now is perfecly laptop-oriented#it sits on a custom wooden desk and the keyboard+drawing tablet sit below. but theres a shelf on top of my desk thats too low for the>#>normal monitor to sit to so i wont be able to use the custom desk. and i dont even know what ill do with my laptop either#finally a good change in my sad life routine fr. i cant wait to play watchdogs on this and overgrowth and other ones#AND LAGLESS KRITA SMUDGE ENGINE BRUSHES!!! AND DOUBLE BRUSHES. THEYRE SO LAGGY#A N D ACTUAL FULL HD NORMAL MONITOR. maybe that will get me to not draw in small canvases anymore#now im anxious i just want the day to be over to get the monitor tomorrow aouugh.. just bc i started coding my resources neocities page#dextxt#<the 'major life events' ((sorta)) tag returns. one for the books.. if something bad happens.. itll be here to remind me of the good times
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
rafe cameron x sweet virgin!reader



she told you she celibate but she told me I can nail her shit
cw: mdni 18+, virgin!reader but has some other experience, lowkey a freak tho, toxic rafe, corruption kink : >, size kink, first times, rafe goes a lil crazy, sweetie pie reader x insane yandere bf rafe is lowkey my favorite trope
~ 6k words
a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves <3 i didn’t read this over and i’m so sorry if there’s hella mistakes i will fix it later! this may or not be self-insert yes even that part
the trouble all began with sarah cameron and her big mouth. well really both of you were to blame, but you’d think she would be quieter when her older brother was lurking around. you were older than her by a few years, closer to his age than hers, not that it mattered though, rafe treated you like you were practically wheezie’s age. you didn’t let it sting you any more you had long gotten over trying to be seen as a woman in rafe cameron’s eyes. or maybe you just stopped watching him, he’s always noticed you but you felt out reach, until now. when he overhears his sister’s words he almost breaks the glass of water he’s holding.
“a virgin at 19 looking like you do is insane” sarah looked you up and down as you tried on the dress you’d bought together at the mall. you got shy at her words, you knew she wasn’t judging you but instead genuinely in disbelief that men weren’t throwing themselves at you. you had long mastered the art of looking unapproachable and uninterested after too many bad experiences.
“stoppp is it so hard to believe, you know how bad it’s been for me?” he really hopes no one sees him leaning against the wall next to his sister’s door, he’d look like such a weirdo. wheezie would never let him live this down, she’d barely held back on letting his little crush slip before. if sarah ever found out he’d be in another hell.
“fuck you’re right, if they can’t make you come what’s the point?” rafe winced at his sister’s words, willing away the temptation to gag. he was trying to focus on the fact that no guy had made you come before instead.
“you’re awful, but i’m done with men for a long time. im gonna focus on college and not waste time on them.” he relished in the twisted feeling that no one could touch you, even if the losers before had a chance they clearly couldn’t cut it.
“righttt being in a dorm filled with horny guys is gonna make that easier.” sarah deadpanned and you shoved her, seeing her point. you hadn’t thought about it like that.
“okay leave me alone i’ve been successful so far”
“oh my god speak of the devil, john b’s calling me over, can you cover for me? i’ll be back in like two hours max, promise.” you were a little disappointed she was leaving you but you knew how difficult it was for her to see him without someone covering for her. you nodded and pulled out your phone.
“fine but i’m ordering pizza,” rafe didn’t know if he should be terrified or elated that you two would be home alone for two hours. why did it have to be today that the rest of his family fucked off? was this divine intervention?
“save me a slice!” rafe could hear his sister rustling around, getting ready to go, so he did the same.
“you’re gonna be too busy eating di-“ rafe promptly ran off at that. he’d heard enough, his imagination would run wild with this new information.
it was half an hour later when, like clockwork, rafe made sure to be near the front door for the pizza delivery. he paid and tipped the guy, while you were making your way down at the sound of the doorbell. he hurries back upstairs, nearly running into you on the stairs. your eyes trace his pretty features and then land on the box in his hands, shock and horror cascading your face. rafe can’t believe that you look so good even now, you’re wearing a crop top with seemingly no bra underneath and high waisted sweatpants. to him you look like a model.
“hey! that’s my pizza” rafe laughs and continues up the stairs, you turn on your heel and follow him up. you’re kinda hangry and your pizza being held hostage is not helping your mood.
“i just paid for it so i don’t think so.” you both reach the top of the stairs but rafe isn’t stopping, he’s going to his room instead. this won’t do, he’ll lock the door and slam it in your face, you quickly move to stand in front of him blocking the path to his doorway. rafe thinks it’s cute that you think that would stop him, he feels a bit stir crazy over how small you look gazing up at him
“i’ll pay you back!” your hands shoot up against the doorframe, blocking entry even further. he wants to tease you a bit more but the idea of sharing a pizza in his room is way more tempting.
“nah it’s fine just let me have some.” you release your blockade and let him move past you, still with his-your pizza in his hold, following him mindlessly. if you were less hungry you would’ve realized eating pizza with your longtime crush and best friend’s brother in his room sitting on his bed was in fact not a great idea. but that fleeting concern is out the window when he opens the box and you climb onto his bed like it’s second nature. rafe does his best to stay concentrated on the present, it’s difficult when your shirt rides up and a sliver of your stomach is displayed, it looks so soft and untouched and he really isn’t hungry for pizza, he never was.
“i was gonna offer anyways for the record.” you say it while picking up a slice and rafe mirrors your action, laughing at your tone.
“yeah sure you were princess,” you ignore the way his voice sounds, the way he says your name, the way his room smells like him and it’s making your head spin.
rafe watches you eat transfixed when you lick the tips of your fingers, he can’t believe that he’s struggling to control himself over pizza but your words are ringing in his head.
“rafe do you have any napkins?” you hold up your greasy fingers and he nods his head dazedly, getting up to grab some for you and taking the pizza box off his bed with him. you move to get off then, looking around his room, you knew he wouldn’t appreciate if you snooped through his things so you just look at the pictures on the wall, the books he has. rafe finds you standing near his desk when he comes back, wordlessly handing you the napkins.
“i always forget you have a motorcycle.” your head motions towards the helmet resting on the surface of his desk.
“i don’t use it as much now.” he leaned back against the footboard of his bed, arms crossed against his chest as he watched you look at his stuff. he couldn’t figure out why you were still in his room, were you that curious?
“can i ride it? i’ve always wanted to try.” yeah rafe might just pass out now. you don’t even know what you’re doing to him, head cocked to the side looking at him so innocently he can barely hold back much longer.
“sure but i gotta teach you the basics so you don’t crash.” rafe is proud of himself for even stringing a sentence together in response. you notice a slight flush to his cheeks and ears.
“okay that’s fair.” you turn towards him, mirroring his form and leaning back against his desk. there’s a few feet between you but rafe thinks it would be so easy to lift you onto the mahogany and kiss you until you can’t breathe. his shorts feel so restrictive and he’s grateful he’s wearing black. he can’t hold back any longer, he has to know.
"is it true?" the words come out rushed, unsure of if they should even be said in the first place. but rafe’s not a quitter and he doesn’t shy away from anything really, even if the past few hours feel like a dream he would have in middle school.
"is what true?" your head does that thing again like a puppy and he nearly keels over, you’re too adorable for your own good. his gaze flits away for a second, he has to commit. your trusting expression and your airy tone make it all the more hard.
"no guy's made you come before?" you blink in shock twice before covering your face with your hands. this must be the most embarrassing moment of your life.
"ugh you heard that?"
"yeah you guys aren't exactly quiet" you might have to kill sarah cameron in her sleep, if she even comes back that is. you don’t know why you answer him, you could have just ran away but the magnetic pull of rafe cameron coaxes you to answer.
"yeah it's true" you sound defeated and rafe has to hold back a snicker, he watches you peer through your fingers at him, watching his expression.
"well i can rectify that..you know for the sake of mankind and all" there’s a smirk on his lips as he says the words that will haunt you forever. you’re sure he’s just messing with you and you huff a breath of disbelief. did he know about your little crush? you’d been hiding it so well for the past few years!
"don't tease me, rafe" you step away from his desk, moving to leave his room. even if it was just the two of you in the house you’d much rather sit in sarah’s room or watch the tv than be ridiculed.
"i'm not, it'd be a shame if a pretty girl like you gave up on men, especially for me." it’s almost as if someone dumped a bucket of cold water on your head when rafe cameron speaks. pretty girl the first time he’s called you anything that might suggest you’re not just his sister’s friend. the world spins on its axis and you try to grasp onto his words, try to understand that he might be genuine but you can’t. there’s still that voice of doubt telling you he’s just messing with you. rafe watches your expression go from shock to disappointment, you don’t believe him. he supposes it’s not that believable when he’s been purposefully avoiding you for a while. you must think he’s just messing with you, but he’s dead serious. he’ll just have to prove it.
“whatever rafe i don’t have time for your games.” you mumble it and leave his room, slamming the door a bit harder than you intended. the next few hours are torture. rafe cameron planted an insidious weed in your mind and it’s growing exponentially.
of course it’s not the first time you’ve imagined it, you’d often thought about what his long thick fingers would feel like. or how his biceps would feel under your hands if you held onto them for support. you’d fantasized about every part of him, even the tip of his nose. so the idea that it might just be within your reach had you spiraling. you took a cold shower, not that it helped, your underwear was still soaked after. no guy you’d been with had made you so wet, let alone before even touching you. it was as if the universe was testing you. a sick thrum in your body had found its way into your bones, vibrating with need and you paced in your best friend’s room thinking over all the consequences.
when you’d reached the conclusion that even if he was sincere it was still a bad idea, your phone pinged. a text from sarah that read: “i’m gonna be staying the night here, if you’re already asleep i’ll see you in the morning 🤍” with all your internal turmoil you hadn’t realized it was past the two hours she’d said. she would be out all night. you and rafe were home alone, all night. you swallowed down the lump in your throat, your heart pounding your chest. your feet were moving faster than your head, the pitter patter of your footsteps almost as fast as your heartbeat, and before you knew it you were in front of his door. you hesitated for a second breathing in deep once before knocking, the light was still on so you knew he was awake.
“yeah?” rafe did his best to hide the satisfaction he felt seeing you twitchy and shy in front of his door. you swallowed down again, looking up at him with as much confidence as you could. there was a few seconds of silence, he gave you the time you needed, looking down at you with bright inviting eyes.
“is your offer still on the table?” his face split into a grin, moving aside to let you in like you’d done before and with no hesitation you pushed past him. even the small graze of your shoulder against him set his skin ablaze. he was going to lose his mind.
“‘doesn’t really have an expiration date.” your mind was blanking at his every advance, you tried not to think about his words, you couldn’t afford to fall deeper for him.
“just don’t like tell anyone about this?” you murmured, watching him close the door behind you two and getting a bit nervous. if sarah found out you’d be in for hell. losing your virginity to your best friend’s brother wasn’t exactly a great conversation to have.
“i’m not topper don’t worry.” you believed him, rafe despite his other faults, was always respectful.
“can i kiss you?” you nodded fervently, rafe held back a laugh at your enthusiasm. he walked up to you slowly as if giving you the chance to run and slid his hands from his hips to the curve of your waist. you stood on your tiptoes, your arms going around his neck and rafe couldn’t believe this was real. maybe if he pretended it was a dream he wouldn’t be so nervous. he’d have to do just that. one of his hands cupped your face, thumb stroking along your cheekbone and your eyelashes fluttered closed at the touch. he pressed a tentative kiss to your lips.
his lips felt soft and you breathed out in relief after, as if some sort of spell was lifted. rafe kissed you again, this time letting himself breathe you in. you felt so small and delicate in his hold, he wanted to take his time with you. you had other ideas. kissing rafe cameron felt even better than you’d imagined, when he pulled back you surged forward this time, biting his lower lip making him groan into your mouth. another chill of desire wracked your body at the sound and you tested the waters by licking the seem of his lips. rafe pulled you even closer and bent down to kiss you deeper. his mouth opened and his tongue met yours. you tasted so good to him he couldn’t stop himself from sucking on your tongue slightly, making you whine in his hold. the sound flipped a switch in his mind, he wanted more of the sound, he needed to hear you say his name in that airy desperate sound again. a string of saliva connected your lips and snapped off in the middle, your breathing was heavy and his was too. you caught your breath all the while looking up at him, he held your gaze. the furrow of your brows grew deeper the longer you looked.
“we don’t have to do anything else.” him asking for consent again drew in another crushing wave of arousal, you were a lost cause. okay maybe your standards were in hell. even his cologne was better than any other guy, something woodsy and heavy, mature, not like the shitty ones you’d had to smell before.
“no-no i want to,” he’d have to ask you later why you looked so mad after kissing him, right now he had too much else to do. you could only watch as he lifted you by the grip on your waist, your legs going around his hips in fear of falling. he’d done it so casually you couldn’t process it in time. rafe set you down gently on his mattress, his weight pressed into you and your legs tightened around him. he kissed you again, already missing the taste of your lips, and leaned back. you realized what he was about to do as he sat back on his knees.
“no i-can you just come up here?” you felt far too shy for him to eat you out and although rafe respected your wishes he was a bit disappointed. he’d just have to make sure there was a next time. there were other ways to taste you anyways. he followed your lead, leaning back over you and kissing you again, tongue and teeth clashing together in need. one of his hands moved from your waist up and under the hem of your shirt, traveling up slowly until he reached the fat of your breast. the feeling of his fingers on your nipple jolted your body. usually you didn’t get anything out of a guy touching your boobs but him you were arching into his touch, huffing into his mouth. rafe loved how sensitive you were, reacting to every touch of his. he massaged the tit in his hand, reveling in how you squirmed underneath him. if you kept moving you’d feel how painfully hard he was in his shorts.
after giving up on kissing you he peeled off your crop top, trailing kisses down your neck. he bit at the skin and sucked, surely littering your neck with hickies. you smelled so sweet to him and he couldn’t get enough, biting hard in the juncture between your neck and shoulder. you squeaked at the feeling, shocked at how pleasure blurred the lines of the pain you should be feeling. being marked by rafe was transcendental.
“look at you, so fucking pretty.” you met his gaze, his eyes raking down your chest and back to your face. the compliment made your head even cloudier, you’d let him do anything he wanted already, and it didn’t even scare you. his mouth trailed lower, biting at the tops of your breasts before latching onto your nipple and sucking, biting and laving over the sensitive nub with his tongue. you writhed under him, desperate for some friction between your legs. you huffed out a breath in frustration. he took his time bruising your chest with his marks. everyone should know who you belonged to. he leaned back to admire his work, his eyes finally meeting yours and seeing your waterline filled with unshed tears. god he was being so cruel, you just wanted to come and here he was doing as he pleased.
“rafe can i have your fingers please?” he was about to take pity on you anyway but the desperate sound of you begging was too delicious to give up. he looped his fingers through yours, hands intertwined against the silk sheets next to your shoulder.
“fuuckkk when you ask like that how can i say no?” his eyes nearly rolled back in his head from your voice, he might just come from it alone. “how d’ya want them?” he knew, of course he knew, he just wanted to hear you say it. your lips were swollen from his kisses and you still managed to look so innocent under him, he wanted to mark every inch of your body so no one could touch you again.
“you know!” you huffed out, a pout on your lips that he kissed away, you still looked at him with frustration. your underwear was practically sticking to you now, you felt so warm and uncomfortable between your legs, desperate for friction. you’d never felt like this before, completely wrecked with need, unable to think about anything besides addressing your desire.
“spell it out for me, i can’t think clearly right now.” he kissed under your ear coaxing you into submission, a purr curled through you at the feeling. his lips were featherlight against you, soft and adoring and you couldn’t remember why you were holding back.
“‘wan you to fuck me with them.” it was a small mumble, slipping past your lips but rafe caught it nevertheless. his free hand hooked into your pants and pulled them down, you kicked them off and let him settle back between your legs. at least being out of your pants gave your legs some reprieve but the cool air only illuminated how drenched your underwear was. rafe’s large hand skimmed past your breasts to your stomach and rested against your waistband. he looked to you for admission and you nodded your head. instead of dipping underneath the band he trailed downwards, over the flimsy material. the ghost of his touch near your clit had you jerking under him, your hands flying to his shoulders. two large fingers pressed against the fabric, right above your opening, his fingers felt moist and he clicked his tongue at the feeling.
“baby you soaked through your panties, whose got you so worked up?” you whined, a pretty throaty sound that you’d been holding in and he vowed to pull more from you. his fingers were skimming along your opening, teasing the fabric and not quite touching you. your legs wanted to close on his hand but your hips moved closer, trying to make him touch you.
“you!” you screamed out, eyes squeezed shut as he removed his hand completely. you’d start leaking through them if he didn’t do something soon.
“that’s right me, not those fucking losers, just me.” his free hand, closed around your chin making you open your eyes and meet his. he looked crazed, pupils blown and overshadowing the blue with hooded eyes and a satisfied grin curling his lips. when you met his gaze he finally dipped his fingers beneath the band and pressed his thumb against your clit. he found it with such ease your eyes rolled back into your skull, gasping at the feeling of finally being touched. “i got you baby,” your legs spread wider for him, pulling him into you as his fingers slid through your drooling folds all the while his thumb ground against you. his fingers were so much larger than yours you could feel him everywhere. he prodded your hole with his index finger, grunting at how tight you were. streams of arousal kept pouring out of you, you needed him to do something. you squirmed under him again and rafe acquiesced, shoving his finger in. you were so tight and warm around him, slippery and soft walls hugged him as he stretched you out with one finger alone. “f-fucking tight,” he was gonna start soiling his shorts from the way you felt around his finger alone. he fucked you slow and deep, feeling along your insides for your sensitivity. he knew as soon as he found it because you screamed his name, hands clutching his arms tightly.
“feels weird,” he let you get used to the feeling, his thumb grinding against your clit. you were already feeling close and he’d barely started.
“poor pussy probably never felt this good huh?” you whimpered at his words, he was being so filthy and usually it turned you off. nothing about rafe could do that at this point. you shook your head, affirming his suspicions and his middle finger circled your opening. he was gentler this time, moving his fingers in inch by inch until you stopped clamping down. the pressure of him stretching you wasn’t unbearable but you didn’t know how you’d ever take more than his fingers at this rate. he accurately hammered against that spot, out for blood, while his thumb circled your clit. you were dripping onto his hand, coating him with your juices and the squelch of his fingers fucking into you filled the room. the sounds were so obscene you tried blocking them out with your pathetic little whines but rafe was determined to hear your soppy cunt crying for him. it wasn’t long before you felt the encroaching of your release and he knew it he could feel it in the way you clenched around him and whined when his fingers pulled out completely. one more carress of the sensitive gummy spot inside you had you seeing white. your vision blurred as you shook in your release, holding his wrist so he’d stop his motions, shivers wracked your body as you came the hardest you ever had. your walls fluttered around him, more of your release dripping down your cunt and soaking the sheets below. he was sick enough to leave them like that for the night, you smelled so sweet and he bet you tasted even better.
his fingers dipped out of your underwear and your eyes opened to watch him, probably a mistake on your part because just the vision of rafe cameron licking his fingers clean and groaning at the taste made you ready to go again. his eyes rolled back in his head at the taste, his eyes ground shut at the sugary flavor coating his tongue and teeth. he really hoped you’d let him have more later because now that he’d had a taste he wanted the full meal. you shivered at the way he reacted, your whole body on high alert from your orgasm, but even as sensitive as you were you couldn’t help but be greedy.
“rafe, can we go further?” his heart might just give out, you look nervous even now after he’s already addicted. he moves back slightly, pulling his shirt over his head and your eyes are drawn to his chest.
“thought you’d never ask.” you’re not even trying to hide how you ogle him, seeing him at the beach is one thing but in front of you, when you can touch him is another. rafe watches you reach a hand out, slightly out of range and moves closer to you, letting you touch him. your smalls hands traverse the expanse of his shoulders, his pecs, and trace the outline of his abs. when they reach the tuft of hair above his waistband, rafe has to stop you. the tiny fleeting touches make him twitch in his pants. he moves your hand to rest against his shoulder, pulling your underwear all the way off and looking down at how he completely drowns your body out.
“fuckkk can’t believe im the lucky one who gets to break this little pussy in,” he kisses along your neck, hands squeezing your waist and marveling at how diminutive you feel. he can’t wait to be inside you, he wonders if you’ll even be able to take him.
“s-so dirty” his words are heating up your entire body and you’d feel embarrassed if you weren’t arching into him. rafe moves to pull down his shorts, waiting a beat before he does.
“you sure you want this?” while taking your virginity was something he could only dream about before he needed to be sure.
“yes i want it to be you, i trust you.” you say it as normally as you can.
“we can stop whenever you want, like i said ‘offer’s not gonna expire.” you hope you can take it up even after this, maybe not even once or twice. if he could make you feel like this why would you need anyone else? then he pulls his shorts off and you start to regret your decision.
“oh-is th-that gonna fit?” his cock sprung out and slapped against his stomach, long and thick and way too big for you. you could barely take his fingers this would never fit. it looked so angry white precum dribbling down stark against the flushed pink curling along the veins and curving with him to the right. you wouldn’t survive this.
“you’ll do your best right?” you nod enthusiastically, you wanted to take as much as you could. “good girl.” oh, you’d have to explore that later. you nearly moaned at him calling you that. rafe caught it though, he knew your reactions well by now. he lined it up over your stomach, seeing how far it would go and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. your belly button was completely covered, not that it mattered he was halfway up your torso. rafe’s grip on your waist tightened, he’d ruin you for anyone else, stretch you out and mold you just for him. no one would feel as good as him and he nearly drooled at the sight.
despite how feral he felt, he made sure you were still wet enough for him to slip in, you were. his tip pressed against you, he let you drool onto him, juices swirling with his and making a sick plap plap plap sound as he tapped against you. he’s far wider than his fingers and you tried to relax. you motioned for him to come closer, his lips out of reach and you kissed him sweetly. when he could feel you relax he pushed in, instantly being shoved out. so tight he couldn’t even get the tip in. “fuuckkkk gonna have to marry you.” you don’t even process his words and he doesn’t really know he’s saying them out loud either. he tries again, pulling you slightly onto his length and you gasp at the stretch. you’re gripping him like a vice and it’s nearly uncomfortable but being inside you breaks something inside of him and he’s drooling into your mouth. you don’t even care you want more. “doin well angel-hah-taking me so well.”
the pain is an afterthought now, you want him to stretch you and fill you until you can’t breathe. you don’t know if you’ve wanted anything more in your life. so you do the unthinkable, you try moving down his length. rafe can’t be held responsible for his actions after that.
he gives into your silent plea, skewering you on his cock and pushing past your gooey rings of resistance until he’s halfway in. you held your breath the entire time as he curved into you, tip smearing precum along your walls as he molded you to him, his veins catching on your entrance and making you jolt at the feeling. you push at his chest, the pain making you scream his name as he lets you adjust. there’s tears trailing down your cheek that he licks away. he kisses you until the ache between your legs becomes distant, it’s salty and sloppy but it distracts you enough. rafe makes the mistake of looking down, sees the way you’re gaping for him and how it looks like he’s splitting you in half and he bottoms out. the snap of his hips against yours makes you moan, he’s filled you up now and you can feel him in your throat. you swear you feel him get bigger when you whine his name pathetically, his dick twitching inside you.
it’s too much and you try running from it, shoving up the length of the bed but rafe just pulls you back down. “t-too big hng can’t-“
“come on i thought you were-fuck-a big girl,” he groans into your ear, you shove against him once more and he slips out a few inches, just enough for you to relax. you can still feel him nestled against your cervix, he’s leaking into you and your thighs are coated in both of your arousal. you tap his shoulder for him to move again, pulling out until his tip is the only thing inside and then spearing all the way back in. the feeling makes you cross-eyed, his throbbing tip bumps along your sensitive spot until it nestles against you, as far high up as it can and you think you might be coming on every thrust because you’re so obscenely wet more slick just pours out of you every time. rafe knows it’s because there’s no space for anything but his cock and he can’t help but grin, watching your pussy engulf his length despite how small you are under him. every thrust sends your whole body upwards but his grip on you keeps you close, he’s almost fucking you back onto him.
“feels good hah,” you finally murmur into his neck, wrapping your legs around his hips so he can drill into you better. his thrusts are deep and slow, letting you get used to the feeling but you don’t think you like it like this. if he’s going to ruin you he might as well do it properly. “h-harder.” rafe moans your name at your request, his voice sounds so wrecked you clench down at the sound alone.
“turned this pussy into a slut, ‘couldn’t even take-hah-two fingers now look at you.” really he’s proud of you, proud that he made you like this. although he wants to tease you he can’t hold back much longer either and it’s your first time so he’s gonna be nice to you. rafe pulls out and slams back into you setting a faster rougher pace, your skin is slapping against each other and you think he might bruise your hips. your head is shoved up the length of his bed until it threatens to bump against the headboard, he puts his hand between you and the wood, his other hand holding onto the frame for support. your legs are being bent and pressed to the sides and the new angle makes him hit that spot with blaring accuracy. a sick ring of white forms at the base of his dick and his balls are slippery from your arousal. you still have a vice grip around him, something he won’t get used to but is definitely get addicted to. the room smells filthy and the sounds of you chanting his name combined with the squelch of your cunt is pornographic.
“gonna be a good girl and come around my cock?” your walls flutter at his words, like his permission has you ready to come. you come undone with one more thrust, your cunt is milking him as if coaxing him to come. “fuck fuck fuckkkk.” he pulls out just in time to come onto your stomach, shooting thick gooey ropes onto your soft skin. the white contrasts the blue and purple that is starting to bloom around your neck and tits.
you blearily watch it happen, disappointed he didn’t come inside, but warm and fuzzy from your release. there’s one thought nagging you though as you rest comfortably on his sticky soaked sheets. “it wasn’t a one time offer right?”
“no fucking way, i’m never letting you go.” rafe looks at you like you’re crazy, he’s ready to propose. there’s no way in hell he’s making this a one night stand. after all he’s broken you in, now it’s the fun part.
taglist: @ggraycelynn
#Spotify#rafe cameron#artemisiasmuse#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#rafe x you#rafe cameron headcanons#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron hard thoughts#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron smut#rafe smut#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe obx#outerbanks rafe
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
see a cheerleader, breed a cheerleader
pairing ↠ """nerd!"""jake x (f) reader
genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, dubcon, oral (m receiving), male face sitting, face fucking, unprotected sex, blackmail, choking, hitting, virgin!reader
summary ↠ ever since forever, you have always gotten your way with people by whatever means necessary. a wink and a smile is all it takes to make a boy drop to your feet and worship you. no one told you to think that jake sim would be any different. as it turns out, actions do have consequences.
wc ↠ 14.9k
a/n ↠ jeno version of this fic posted on my nct blog revehae. yea, mine. i am her she is me. THERE WILL BE NO SEQUEL. feedback is appreciated!
don’t like it, don’t read.
▸ short, sweet, sometimes sticky
it was supposed to be like everybody else.
short, sweet, maybe sticky if you considered that one time you’d shaken that sunoo boy’s sweat-coated hands and watched the pale of his face burn the same fierce rose as the lens he saw you through.
you’d laughed lightheartedly to spare him the embarrassment, telling him that everybody got a little sweaty every now and then, especially you. after all, cheerleading was more than skipping around and twirling. and at those words, you’d watched his eyes haze with the image of you damp with sweat, drenched head to toe.
hook, line, and sinker.
far too easy, exactly how you liked them. smart, easy, and utterly unable to resist you.
no one told you to expect something different from jake sim. and why would you? he knew all the right answers, had some of the best marks, and practically lived in the library. he perfectly fit the bill of your standard victim.
which was why you had no qualms about approaching him in the library while he was typing away at his laptop, occasionally sipping from some kind of coffee.
as if he could sense he was in imminent danger and needed to evacuate immediately, jake turned around before you could even make it completely to the table and saw you advancing on him with a pretty, practiced smile. “hi,” you greeted, waving at him. falling, your hands gripped the rear of the chair beside him. “is someone sitting here?”
jake raised a brow at you, but shook his head. “no, no one’s sitting there.”
“perfect,” you replied, pulling out the chair and taking a seat. you turned so that you were facing him. “jake, right?”
jake nodded slowly, wondering where this was going. he got plenty girls, sure, but none ever approached him in the library. “that’s me,” he said, curious. “do i know you?”
“well, probably not,” you replied, giggling as if something was funny. “but, you know… i’m a cheerleader.”
jake hummed. “are you now?”
you bobbed your head expectantly. “yeah, and i’ve heard about how smart you are. i’m impressed, to be honest. i mean, every time i’m in the library, i see you sitting here. i could never spend so much time here. you must have a lot of resolve to do something like that.”
“you think so?” jake asked, pretending to be flattered just to see where you were leading him.
“i do. like, really do,” you replied, brushing your fingers against his forearm. “i just have so many other,” better, “things to do, you know. with cheer, i’m either practicing or resting so that i’ll have energy for practice. it’s really hard on me, you know?”
jake stifled a chuckle and glanced back at his laptop screen. “you poor thing.”
your brows stitched. he wasn’t paying nearly enough attention to you. it was almost like he was uninterested. “and that’s why i was wondering if you could help me. i mean, you’re such a genius. you could probably do it in half the time it would take me,” you continued, lowering your hand onto his denim-clad thigh, and becoming surprised by how sturdy it felt.
jake spared a fleeting glance at your hand on his left thigh before his eyes flitted to your face, watching you wink at him and throw him a smile. “let me get this straight,” he started, slowly caressing the back of your hand with his thumb as it sat on his thigh. “you want me to… do your work for you?”
“hey, your hard work wouldn’t go unrewarded,” you insisted, ignoring the unexpected motions of his thumb. “you’d have my attention. i mean, like i said, i don’t have a lot of time to give away. but i’m willing to spend some of it on you.”
jake snickered, unable to help himself anymore. “are you this patronizing to everyone you meet?” he asked.
your eyes flickered. “p-patronizing?”
jake smiled, patting your hand before setting it on your own thigh. “sorry, was that a big word for you? you know, when you think you’re too good for something, but you don’t want to say it, so you play sweet and act like you’re helping me, when really, it’s the other way around.”
switching on a dime, you narrowed your eyes at him. for such a pretty boy, he had quite the attitude. “i know what patronizing means. and right now, i think you’re the one being patronizing.”
“am i?” jake asked, feigning obliviousness. “how’s it taste, cheerleader? doesn’t feel good, does it?”
your face was set in a scowl. sometimes it hurt you to play nice with people, and now was one of those times. “are you gonna help me or not?” you snapped.
“there it is,” jake sang, chuckling to himself. he put his hand on your thigh now, squeezing the flesh gently. for now. “there’s the real you.”
you swallowed, glaring over at him with a hint of defiance despite the disgusting, foreign feeling rotting in your chest. it had never gone like this before. every situation predating this one had been somewhat predictable, to the point where you’d come to expect certain reactions. this was not that.
“i’ll help you,” jake said after a pause.
you forced a smile. “great, so…”
jake interjected, “on one condition.”
smile faltering, you trailed off, processing his words. now he was making some kind of deal with you? who in the hell did this man think he was?
“on one condition?” you echoed, as if you’d somehow misheard him. your brows scrunched in suspicion. “what condition?”
jake grinned, the look on his face sly as hell and a stark contrast from the disgruntled glower on yours. “give me something in return,” was all he said, the tightening hold on your thigh giving away more than his words had.
you gawked, as if you were offended, and quickly swat at his hand. “i’m not having sex with you, you pervert!”
“sure, you’re not,” jake answered with a chuckle, eyes twinkling with amusement. everything about you was alluring to him for mostly all the reasons unintended. “but you said i’d have your attention. i guess you think it’s not often a poor, busy nerd like myself gets anyone’s attention, yeah? but nerds get tired too, don’t they? they need to de-stress…”
“that’s not my problem,” you spat.
“you getting an F isn’t my problem, either,” jake retorted, shrugging his shoulders. “so what it’s gonna be, cheerleader?”
something about this situation isn’t right to you. maybe it’s the lack of power you currently wielded over him, despite the fact that you had gotten used to having your way with academically competent boys like himself. if he weren’t taller than you and stronger than you, you’d resort to other, more familiar methods.
but jake had changed the entire trajectory of this interaction for the worse, and now you had to determine whether or not it was beneath you to let him treat you as if you were some kind of object. you sulkily mulled it over, arms folded, trying to think of a way to maintain some semblance of power. “fine,” you finally replied, relenting. “but i’m not doing anything that requires me taking my clothes off.”
“you never seen a good porno, cheerleader?” jake asked, a stupid, taunting smile blemishing his lips. “that cute little uniform of yours is the whole appeal to some people.”
“my name is…,” you huffed irritably, tired of being referred to by your title.
“frankly, cheerleader, i don’t care what your name is,” jake told you with brutal honesty. “you’re the one that introduced yourself as a cheerleader, like that’s your whole personality or something. thinking it would make me fold. you can’t be stupid and demanding.”
you gaped, affronted by the sheer audacity of him to even utter those words to you, like you were some dumb bimbo. “i’m not stupid! i’m just too busy.”
“right. too busy,” jake echoed, obviously none too convinced. “sorry for assuming.”
with a roll of your eyes, you stood up from the table chair, feeling utterly disrespected. “yeah, you should be,” you said, despite knowing his apology was completely inauthentic. “where’s your phone?”
jake arched a brow and glanced over to his phone, sitting face down against the table on the other side of him. before he could even respond, you reached over him to grab it and pointed it at his face, unlocking it as if you’d done it a million times before.
then, you started typing away, all the while jake watched you with an amused expression on his face. he had to admit, you were surely something. and though he found you entertaining, he couldn’t shake the thought that you desperately needed someone to put you in your place.
“reach me here,” you said after a moment, handing him his phone back. the screen was on his messages, a fresh contact with you. “pleasure doing business with you.”
with that, you walked away.
jake shook his head, scoffing. who the hell did you think you were?
over the next few days or so, you met with jake to better construct exactly what your expectations were pertaining to your work. or at least, those were the words he’d used. most of those limited encounters had ended with his hands sealing around your breasts.
you let it slide, deciding that a little over-the-clothes stuff was relatively harmless. after all, this was the busiest you’d been all year long, and you were far too exhausted when you got home to be burdened with stupid assignments and pesky discussion posts. the next two months, if not the next two weeks, were going to kill you if you didn’t have someone to carry at least half the workload on your behalf.
it was okay. jake’s inability to keep his hands to himself was fine. it wasn’t like anybody was going to know, or that this arrangement would last long enough for them to find out. you would get to keep your dignity and your grades, without saving one at the expense of the other.
short, sweet, and sticky, remember? maybe the latter was simply manifesting in the way jake’s hands were stuck to you. not that anything about him was sweet.
more like sacrifice.
▸ gilded age
“guess who just made the list of this week’s top ten trending sluts,” jennie said as she walked up beside you and roseanne.
roseanne perked up that, though she couldn’t help but mischievously quip, “you?”
jennie narrowed her eyes. “hoe, as if,” she spat. “i know how to keep my legs closed.”
you snickered. “god, what happened now?”
“a sex tape got leaked. hyeri, and apparently sunghoon.”
your nose scrunched, as if disgusted. “always knew she was a slut. i mean, you should have been there to see the way she acted around the jocks in high school. her eyes were practically screaming, ‘pick me, choose me, fuck me,’” you mocked.
roseanne burst into giggles, downing the rest of what was left in her red cup. “i don’t think that’s how that goes,” she chimed. “but sunghoon? is she crazy? i hope they didn’t do it raw. i heard rumors that he’s got the clap.”
“he sure clapped something, alright,” jennie retorted, much to your amusement. “it was definitely raw. hope it was worth the itch. you guys wanna see?”
“absolutely not,” you said, shaking your head vigorously. “i bet her parents would love to see it, though. on second thought, send me it.”
roseanne gawked. “are you serious?”
you bobbed your head, grinning deviously. “yeah. you guys have no idea what that bitch was like in high school. i tried teaching her a lesson, but she just never learned. it’s like the bitch is addicted to pain or something.”
jennie shook her head, pretending to disapprove, though she was intrigued to see how far you would your obvious loathing. “just sent it.”
your phone vibrated in your hand a few seconds later. you opened your instagram burner account, scrolling through your main’s following to find hyeri’s mother’s page, and dropped the video in her inbox. your sly giggle alerted your friends to your success and you dropped your phone in your pocket, satisfied.
“oh, you’re sick,” jennie insulted playfully, nudging your arm. “i wonder if she’ll say anything.”
you shrugged your shoulders, feigning nonchalance as if you weren’t excited to see how her mother would respond. “don’t know, but i’m more curious about if she’ll talk to hyeri about it. i’d love to be a fly on the myung’s wall when that happens.”
roseanne tapped your shoulder. “hey, don’t look now, but that jake guy is staring you.”
your head whirled around, spotting jake in his own corner of the party, indeed watching your every move as if he wanted to consume you and was waiting for the perfect moment to attack. which, if he was, would not be surprising.
roseanne sighed in annoyance. “i literally just said don’t look now.”
you turned back to face them, shaking your head. “don’t worry about that creep,” you replied, brushing it off. “he’s just begging to get in my pants. didn’t even know he went to parties.”
for whatever reason, jennie laughed. something about what you said tickled her, apparently. “um, yeah. that’s jake for you, alright. he’s either partying with his friends or grinding in the library, no in between. perfectly balanced lifestyle, i have to admit it.”
your brows furrowed. that was news to you. and probably an important piece of information that you’d conveniently missed when narrowing down your targets. maybe you should have asked around about him more. you just didn’t think that someone who studied as hard as he did could also be the life of the party.
what was he doing here, anyway? shouldn’t he have been off doing your homework? useless fucking nerdy-not.
“do you guys know each other or something?” roseanne pressed, noticing the strange tension in the air despite the fact that you and jake were feet apart. which was honestly admirable. “do you think you could get him to put me on with jungwon?”
jennie’s laughter rang out again, only this time, it was much louder, and much more mocking. “please. jungwon isn’t gonna touch any of us after how she broke his heart. you’d have better luck with jaehyun,” she sneered.
roseanne glared, a snarl on her face. “fuck jaehyun.”
“yeah, i bet you want to. i bet you’re still dreaming of that big, thick, meaty dick you wouldn’t shut up about, like, two months ago.”
“a lot can change in two months.”
“oh, it sure can,” jennie replied, humming. “it sure can.”
▸ takes two to tango
jake: come over
you: no
jake: that wasn’t a request
you: no where in our agreement does it say you get to boss me around
jake: not even for an A?
you: that’s what your grabby hands are for
jake: i don’t have to do this, you know. i can let you be a grown up and fiend for yourself like the rest of us
you: i’m otw, chill. jesus
the knock of your fist against jake’s door was incessant, more than likely enough to exasperate his neighbors, given that it was particularly late at night and a good number of them had to have been sleeping.
jake threw the door open with a scowl, obviously irritated. “you are so fucking annoying,” he hissed, dragging you inside and shutting the door behind you.
“ow!” you cried out, snatching your arm away. “stop that, i’m sore.”
jake shook his head, his discontent frown disappearing in favor of an entertained, idiotic smile. “sore, huh? from doing what?”
you rolled your eyes. “if it isn’t obvious, i’m a cheerleader,” you reminded, gesturing down to your uniform. “meaning, i cheer.”
ignoring your snarky attitude, jake glanced you up in down, taking in the sight of you in that tight, short cheer uniform that clung to you rather snugly. sweat still beaded at your damp legs and likely gathered between your breasts and down your back, as jake was imagining. “yeah, you cheer. you won’t let me forget,” he said, amused.
“well, i’m busy,” you said, crossing your arms.
busy, my fucking ass, jake thought to himself. “yeah, you won’t let me forget that, either. and yet, i saw you giggling with your friends at a party two weeks ago, looking completely fine. your poor, exhausted legs seemed to be working perfectly.”
“what, so i can’t have hobbies now?”
“sure, you can,” jake replied, shrugging his shoulders. “i just have to ask, do you ever do anything productive with your time?”
“of course, i do,” you hissed, before quickly deflecting, “but we both know that’s not why you made me come all the way over here. so, what do you want?”
“your attention,” jake said without missing a beat. his hands plopped against your bare shoulders and began wandering down your arms, rubbing them back and forth. “i’m in desperate need of a cheerleader’s sweet, precious attention.”
the disgruntled grimace on your face was the most effort you made to express your discomfort, not that he was looking there anyway. to him, at the moment, the sight of your body was much more appetizing. you watched with a repugnant burn simmering in your gaze as his eyes met your long, slender legs.
without warning, jake grabbed you by your waist and hoisted you into the air, making you cry out in surprise. arms dangling around his neck, you held on for dear life, not an inch of your body feeling safe in his arms. you had been hauled further away from the ground by your cheermates, but this was different; no one wanted to fail, meaning no one would drop you. you had no reason to assume that jake would handle you delicately.
but his burly arms, however, were not lost on you. though you hadn’t yet seen them in full power, your interactions mostly taking form of him forcing your back flush against the chiseled muscle of his chest as he kneaded yours, you could only imagine what the hands that groped you were capable of.
in a matter of seconds, you landed on your back against his sheets, another shrill screech escaping your throat. “jake, what the hell?” you exclaimed.
“i’m not getting on my knees for you,” jake said, the slyest of smiles tugging at his lips. “not unless it’s to fuck you. and you’re just too good to give it up, aren’t you?”
for him, definitely. and you would have said so, but your lips parted in a gasp, surprised and startled. something wet pushed along your sore legs, which were abruptly yanked to pillars far above your head so that they’d be more conveniently within reach of jake’s tongue as he licked long, hot lines at them.
your eyes were rooted on him, fixed in a shape unlike their natural narrowed, black blaze and it would instead be more apt likening them to the fear and fret of a deer in crossed paths. wide, waiting, almost innocent. too used to circumstance to understand its fabric and too unfamiliar to chance to understand its fate.
unsatisfied, jake bent your knee and pushed your leg further as he stood over the edge of his bed, and, in turn, over you, a grip on your ankles that you could feel in your bones. “jake, that hurts,” you whined.
jake didn’t understand why you were bitching. “but you’re a cheerleader,” he echoed. “aren’t you flexible?”
you writhed uncomfortably as he continued shamelessly, tongue even daring to twist against the bone underneath the bend of your knee, a sensation that itched more than you expected. his lips sealed around your skin, sucking and nibbling.
needless to say, it was unlike anything you had experienced before. “stop, that’s weird!”
“stop complaining,” jake groaned, pushing your leg even harder. “it’s like all you ever do is complain about how hard your life is.”
your eyes stung now not only with loathing, but the threat of hot tears. it was stupid; it sounded dramatic, but you felt it was warranted when he was the one actively making your life harder. “you’re a fucking weirdo,” you snapped.
jake heard it. the slight tremble in your voice despite the courage you’d been feigning. that was the sole reason he even bothered to look up at your face, the tears in them stealing his attention away in a heartbeat. he didn’t know whether to be amused or annoyed, or maybe even both. “god, now you’re crying,” he pointed out. “i haven’t even done anything to you. do you need me to give you a reason to cry?”
you shook your head. all you needed was to go home and recharge. you were beginning to doubt whether or not he was worth the trouble he carried with him in exchange for a grade that would keep your parents off your back, especially if he was going to make pulling stunts like this a regular habit.
the last thing you expected jake to do was tug the bottom of your top past the shadow of your breasts, slackening the taut grip on your ankles in favor of your wrists as if he knew you would dare resist him, and burying his face between your chest. you exhaled shakily, mortified by the hot, wet feel of his tongue licking a stripe between your breasts, gathering leftover sweat on its tip.
and you did thrash. but you were getting a taste of that power now; a power that wasn’t your own, a power that you couldn’t reap. a power that grabbed you with its calloused fist with a might so strong you couldn’t move. and it was for the first time that you felt utterly weak. there had to be a word for something as unfathomable as that, but it was so foreign to you that you couldn’t think of it.
to make matters worse, jake was taking his time, sucking bruises onto the skin of your chest in between his licking, as if he wanted to ensure there was no spot left untouched, no drop of sweat left behind. your face strained with discomfort, wanting more than anything to get away from him and this awful feeling rotting inside of your heart.
maybe your cries for mercy were heard, because no sooner had you hoped for an end than it came. “you can go now,” jake said, pulling away. he pulled your shirt back down and smoothed out any wrinkles, which was almost kind of him.
even though you were more than eager to be rid of him, you lay there, dumbfounded. it was one thing to be violated, and it was another to be dismissed, but to happen in rapid succession of each other quickly bred some ugly emotion that was only festering.
jake had expected you to scurry out of his bed, and out of his apartment, so the fact that you were still there bemused him. “what, do you want more?” he teased.
you shook your head, sitting up a little too quickly. your head started to feel lightheaded. you barked, “that isn’t what i agreed to!”
jake had the audacity to laugh. like you had told a joke of some kind. “isn’t it? your clothes are still technically on. that was what you agreed to. remember?”
you dropped to your feet, pushing past him. “you’re disgusting,” was all you said, making a beeline for the door.
“takes two to tango, baby,” jake called after you, simpering.
you didn’t look back. you couldn’t. there was an unpleasant stir in your gut - not as easily distinguishable as the loathing - unlike anything you had ever felt and you desperately wanted it to go away, to rid of yourself of anything that even remotely resembled jake sim.
▸ chess, not checkers
deep, low grunts smacked against the walls and bounced back with almost the same amount of vigor of jake’s quick, unrelenting hips, the sound nearly as hard and heavy as he was. the only thing rivaling the tightness of the hole he was using was the wince of his closed eyes and the grip of his strong hands.
jake didn’t want to see. it would be too blatantly obvious that she wasn’t you, and that it wasn’t your blemished hips he was holding. though she sounded nothing like you. he knew that you would have been so much whinier, and despite finding them painfully obnoxious, he found himself longing to hear all your worthless, melodramatic complaints.
instead, he heard soft moans mingling with his own labored sounds as his hips moved with a mind of their own, imagining it was you underneath him where you truly belonged.
the image stained the back of his eyelids, burned behind them every time he closed his eyes; the shortness of your pleated skirt scrunched around your hips, weak legs on his broad shoulders with nicks and bruises scattered here and there, arms swinging aimlessly.
and if he got tired of hearing you, he could simply press his palm squarely against your mouth, muting the sound of your incessant fussing. if he really wanted to put you in your place, he could clasp his hands around your throat and clamp down onto your windpipe till all that escaped you was a pitiful, featherlight squeak.
jake could tell no one had ever properly put you in your place before, no one had ever stood up to you and reminded you of your level. you were in desperate need of a humbling and didn’t even know it yourself. no one better than jake for the role, he figured. a little cheerleader parading around in a uniform to feel different from everybody else she met didn’t scare him whatsoever.
the only thing saving you was essentially the fact that you were undeniably pretty and not necessarily to blame for the school’s superficial culture, which elevated girls like you in terms of status despite it having no real meaning or manifestations outside of campus, and put you on top when you were within the bubble.
but outside the bubble, away from the boys who thought of you as this beautiful, unattainable poison and the girls who enabled you with a faux sense of togetherness, you had no real identity, no real power, and no real worth.
and yet, maybe jake was contributing to the problem. maybe he had inadvertently become one of the people elevating you. because choking in the heat of the moment, he uttered your name, forgetting who he was with and where he was.
hands shoved at him, hard. at least, hard enough for him to be jolted out of his reverie, finally gazing into the eyes that seethed because of him. “did you just call me that evil witch’s name?” seoa barked.
jake winced. that was a fair reaction, all things considered. he wouldn’t have wanted to have been called your name out of everyone’s, either. he rubbed his nape. “well…”
“unbelievable,” seoa replied, scoffing. she got out of the bed and hurriedly began picking her clothes up from the floor, redressing herself.
jake exhaled a breath, mostly annoyed that his orgasm had been ruined, but still feeling a hint of sympathy. “seoa, wait,” he said, touching her shoulder.
seoa recoiled, pulling away. jake had never seen anyone be so ready to put on their pants after being with him, not even with a hell of a schedule after. “never touch me again,” she spat, walking out with her shoes in tow. “fuck you.”
jake ran a hand through his hair, watching her leave, and murmured under his breath, “god dammit.”
a few days later, while they were attending a festival, jay marched over to jake, draping an arm over his shoulder, and asked, “wanna tell me why seoa blocked all of us and she’s been glaring at me and mark since she got here?”
jake snickered, shaking his head in slight disbelief. he was over it by now, he figured she would be too. “i let a certain cheerleader’s name slip while i was balls deep inside her,” he confessed. which he wasn’t necessarily proud of, considering the only reason he even knew your name was because you’d saved your own contact on his phone.
jay’s brows furrowed, glancing around as if he was trying to spot you in the crowd like a heat-seeking missle. “who?”
rolling his eyes, jake grabbed the back of jay’s head with one hand and turned it in your general direction, hoping it would help. and jake knew it had when jay’s confusion melted into disgust.
“oh, that bitch?” he asked, nose wrinkled.
jake chuckled, releasing his friend’s head. “she’s a bitch, but she’s pretty.”
jay couldn’t argue with that fact even if he’d wanted to. “yeah, i’ll give her that. cute in the face. she’s fake as hell, though. played jungwon like a fiddle. he did six months worth of her homework because she promised they’d get together.”
that was news to jake. he knew you were cruel, having had stories from sunoo and the like, but he never knew of your history with jungwon. if it could be called that. “did they fuck?” he couldn’t help but ask.
jay shook his head, taking a sip from the bottle in his hand before he answered, “he said she always turned him down. told him she was waiting for ‘the perfect moment.’”
now that was funny as hell. jake had only known you for a few weeks and yet even he quickly pieced together that you weren’t the romantic type. “well, that’s fucked up,” he said, happily accepting yet another reason to dislike you. “but he’s dumb as fuck if he did her homework for six months without getting a crumb of pussy in return.”
jay made a face, nodding. “yeah,” he exhaled, giving the impression that he’d wanted to defend jungwon. “but man, what possessed you to say her name while fucking the seoa? i need a good excuse. you just blew my shot with her.”
jake shrugged. “don’t have one. she approached me maybe three weeks ago asking me to do her homework, and i agreed.”
jay gawked. that didn’t sound like jake. like at all. “man, what? is she paying you?”
“oh, dividends,” jake quipped.
“oh, and in what? pussy?”
“nope.”
jay looked horrified. he was so damn dramatic. “then, why the hell are you doing her bidding? that doesn’t sound like you.”
it didn’t, not immediately, but jake had his reasons. “entertainment purposes,” he replied curtly.
jay shook his head, taking another swig of his drink. certainly, he was drinking, not smoking. “you’re becoming her pawn for entertainment purposes? unbelievable, bro.”
“chess, not checkers, jay.” jake smirked, putting a hand on jay’s shoulder. “you’ll see.”
▸ things good guys do
“you’re lucky i was already out,” jake told you when you let him into your apartment. “it’s the middle of the night for fuck’s sake. what do you want?”
“oh, please,” you spat, damn near rolling your eyes. your arms were folded. “you get to call me over at the ungodly hour, but when i do it, it’s a problem?”
jake exhaled through his nose and ran a hand through his hair, wondering why he bothered to come here when he had no obligation to do your bidding, as jay had put it. but something told him that he wouldn’t have any regrets. “yeah, it is. now, what do you want?”
you were silent for a few moments, somewhat ashamed of the request you would ultimately make. you sighed, surrendering. “i need help with calculus,” you finally said.
jake’s shoulders drooped, eyes shrinking in a contemptuous disbelief. “seriously?”
“seriously,” you repeated, sitting down on your couch as your laptop screen glared back at you from the coffee table.
jake groaned, “i seriously don’t know how you even got into this school. can’t you do anything by yourself?”
you gawked, affronted. he made you sound like some incompetent, immature dickhead. “contrary to a weirdly popular belief, i’m actually really smart,” you insisted, having the transcripts to prove it. “but my professor sucks and i need an eighty-nine on my final to keep my A. and it’s not like you can walk in and take it for me because it’s proctored.”
jake shook his head and reminded, “you know this little agreement we have doesn’t include me tutoring you, right?”
“it didn’t include you assaulting me, either,” you retorted.
“you think that was assault?” jake asked, scoffing. he dropped beside you on your couch, the proximity instinctively making you suck in a breath. “if i wasn’t a good guy, i’d show you assault.”
scooting over to ensure maximum distance between your bodies, you argued, “good guys don’t call themselves good guys.”
“good guys have self-control,” jake replied matter-of-factly, resisting a chuckle. he didn’t make a move to touch you, but he noticed how tense you looked now that he was sitting beside you. “i’ll tutor you, but we’ll have to up the terms of our agreement.”
you swallowed sharply, throat bobbing. you had a feeling you weren’t going to enjoy these new terms. “what do you want?”
“a blowjob.”
“that’s disgusting,” you spat without a second thought, features contorting with repugnance.
jake quipped, “and so is your inability to do your school work without using and depending on every intelligent boy you meet, but hey, i’m sure you can’t help that.”
you sighed, exasperated, and cradled your face in your hands. was this seriously what your life had come to? giving a boy a blowjob in exchange for a pretty transcript?
jake grinned, appreciating the sight of you in distress. it was a sign, a good sign, and he intended to bring it out of you more and more, bleeding you absolutely dry. lowering a hand onto your thigh, he urged, “come on, bruise those little knees for me. don’t you bruise ‘em for cheer?”
“that’s not the same!” you whined.
“of course, it’s not,” jake said, squeezing your thigh as his shoulders trembled with laughter. “cheer isn’t helping you graduate with flying colors.”
you desperately wanted him to be wrong, you were begging for him to be wrong, but you both knew that if he was, he wouldn’t have been here with you at the moment. not now, not three weeks ago, not ever. so you sucked it up, slamming down your laptop lid, and grumbled, “fine.”
maybe he didn’t come here for nothing, after all. grateful he’d trusted his gut, jake stood up and clutched your arm to pull you along with him. “come on, let’s go to your room. i like my blowjobs a little messy and i’m sure you don’t want to mess up your nice carpet.”
you snatched your arm away from him, hating his insistence on touching you for every little reason whenever he possibly could, even if it was insignificant. your mouth was taut as you begrudgingly headed for your bedroom.
it was obvious that you were sour. walking behind you, jake couldn’t help but chime, “glad to see that you can at least walk by yourself!”
you bristled in annoyance, wishing you could just get rid of him, but you knew it wouldn’t be wise to discard him so quickly. at least for now, he still held some kind of value.
jake walked in behind you, looking particularly radiant, and you hated that you knew why. hell, you hated the reason itself. “get on your knees,” he commanded.
normally, you would complain about him giving you orders as if you were his lap dog or something, but you just wanted to get this over with. you were already so over this entire week. you slowly dropped to your knees, trying to ignore how demeaning it felt.
“good girl,” jake praised at your compliance. “now, look up at me with those pretty eyes and ask me to help you with calc. ask me nicely.”
you met his eyes, noticing the expectant glimmer in his gaze that you so badly wanted to knock off. but you weren’t dumb enough to incite violence against a grown man that walked around with his bulging muscles on display for all the world to see, and you didn’t doubt that he would hit you back. “jake, please help me with calculus,” you pleaded, choosing your battles.
jake hummed, satisfied. “you sound so pretty and sweet when you ask nicely, instead of demanding things. didn’t know you were capable of that,” he told you, running his fingers through your hair. “take it out. get me hard.”
your hands moved to his sweatpants, tugging at them enough to bring them down just shy of his knees, and doing the same with his underwear. he wasn’t hard yet, but that would be an easy fix; witnessing your state of pure anguish, watching you speak and move as if you were totally dejected, always excited him.
not to mention that the sight of you on your knees for him, the more he took it in, was arousing him even more than he thought it would. he had pictured it in his mind before, you serving him, pleasuring him, existing solely for him, but nothing could compare to the sight he beheld now.
at least, nothing other than you actually doing something rather than sitting there like an idiot. he liked taking control, but he figured you would take matters into your own hands, literally, when he gave the order. “do you need me to tell you what to do or something?” he asked, huffing irritably. “put your tongue on it. tease the head.”
your face and ears burned in ways they rarely did, but you nodded wordlessly and did as told, bracing your hands on his thighs and reluctantly pressing your tongue onto his tip, looking anywhere but his eyes as the muscle swirled around.
that amused jake to no end. at least for now, he would let it slide, not feeling the need to maintain eye contact with you at the moment. if he needed to, he would simply just grab a nice, thick fistful of your hair and yank it back to jolt your head up at him. he could still see your pretty, bare face, hair arranged messily at the top of your head with a few needless strands jutting out here and there.
he liked that. of course, he would have been more than enthusiastic to have you suck him off if you’d been all dolled up, making you ruin your makeup and undo at least an hour of careful, clean work, but he also just took pleasure in seeing this natural, undone part of you. he wanted to see you for what you really were.
it didn’t take long for him to get hard. with all his thoughts revolving around you and the feel of your tongue on the head of his dick, that was a no-brainer. “good, now put it in your mouth. take as much as you can and not an inch less,” jake instructed.
widening your mouth, you accepted his stout, heavy cock into your mouth, lips forming a tight suction around the head and steadily advancing down his shaft. bit by bit, inch by nightmarishly thick inch. you had made it maybe halfway down his shaft when you quickly discovered your limit.
jake was surprisingly content, despite the fact that you definitely still had a few more inches to go. “there you go,” he said, giving your head a soft pat of approval. “suck. go slow. and don’t you dare let me feel any teeth.”
your heart was thumping out of something you could only understand as fear, even though jake hadn’t done anything to warrant it yet. inhaling through your nose, you tried to level your breathing, taking your time to draw in his cock lest you made a mistake. the hint of warning in jake’s voice, in spite of the calmness, was clear.
jake, on the other hand, was reaching elysian heights. faint grunts of, “fuck,” escaped his pink lips, large hands at his sides reflexively tensing into tightly clenched fists in need of something to grab, hips just barely stuttering. your mouth was hot and wet, with the added benefit of your torturous tongue pressed against his size.
there was a pinch of desperacy in your actions that overcame the resistance; a desperacy not necessarily to please him, but to appease him. accidents were the last thing you could afford and eliciting his frustration was the last thing you wanted.
“lick,” jake said, chest undulating. “up and down.”
with a hum, you started drawing long, wet lines back and forth on his veiny shaft, almost as if you were tracing the bold veins with your tongue. jake’s reaction was instantaneous, deep groans the only thing you could hear other than the wet sound of your mouth on his cock, sucking and licking.
jake’s eyes fluttered closed. “fuck. yeah, like that.”
you pressed your tongue against the underside of his dick, lingering in each spot for a moment before you continued, mostly because he seemed to like it when you did. which was your north star in an empty, dead night, because you had not a clue what the hell you were doing and you were afraid of making it obvious somehow.
if jake could tell, he didn’t make it known. he was in a world of his own, all too happily reaping the pleasure from your mouth as if it was a dream come true for him. “kiss my balls. lick it.”
you stifled the sigh you were half tempted to let loose, pulling off his cock with a wet sound and a string of saliva connecting from the sticky tip to your glossy lips. moving your head, you took a moment to steel yourself before peppering tiny, soft kisses along his balls, down to his scrotum.
it wasn’t the most dignifying thing you had ever done, it may have even been the least, but your aching, sore jaw appreciated the break from sucking. you dragged your tongue over his testicles, tasting nothing but rubbery flesh. you were too busy avoiding his eyes to notice, but his face was tensing with pleasure, lips parting in low murmurs.
compared to when you first started, jake was drastically harder now, massive, monstrous cock nearly bursting at the veins with precum leaking out from the thick tip. had your goal been to take all of him entirely, the sheer size of him would have immediately overwhelmed you.
“switch to your hand and go back to sucking me off,” jake said, firm yet quiet. it sounded like he was trying to restrain himself, barely holding it together.
at least you were a fast learner. teasing the head of his cock, you gave it a few slow, tentative licks before you began to take him into your mouth again, all the while gently fondling his balls with your fingers. jake groaned, arching into your touch. he couldn’t help himself.
you could taste the vicious amount of precum staining your tongue and you didn’t know how to describe it, other than slightly tart. the flavor blended with that of your own saliva, lingering on the roof of your mouth and the warm flesh underneath the flap of your tongue, mild as could be.
at least it wasn’t downright awful. you had heard stories before, not that you’d ever known what to make of them, or even pictured yourself being inside of them. if a month ago, someone had told you that you’d be on your knees for a man - for anyone - you would have said they were delusional.
jake’s patience had worn thin and when you least expected it, he hauled you into the air, making you cry out in surprise just as you had the first time he’d lifted you into his buff, meaty arms. he tossed you onto the bed, just shy of the headboard, and suddenly straddled your chest. you gasped out a breath.
“open up,” jake said, cock positioned right in front of your mouth.
not that he gave you the time to obey him, because he pressed himself against your slightly parted lips and forced them wider, entering your mouth on his own. your face strained, perfectly threaded brows tugging down into a discontented arch.
when you tried to pull away, jake grabbed the sides of your face and pushed you onto his shaft with trembling hands, making you take him and leaving no room for escape, not until he decided he was done with you. there was only one concern present in his mind and that was getting himself off.
tears stung your eyes, that same implacable feeling you had when he’d dragged his tongue over the expanse of your soft, shaved legs and bare, sweaty chest finding you again in the most of unwanted company. jake scoffed, spitefully tugging at your hair. “you know what’s funny? you’re such a fucking crybaby. you can’t take even half of what you give to others.”
chin flush against his scrotum and your nose not even an inch away from his bush, you almost gagged. the slurping sounds were humiliating, loud, wet squelching with every other big gulp making you want to shrink. however, jake loved it, obsessing over the idea of making a mess out of you. the sound went straight to his dick.
jake held your face in that low position, deeper than you’d ever taken him so far. “i’m really not that bad of a guy, you know,” jake said, sounding like he truly believed it. you could have scoffed, if not for obvious reasons. “you just bring it out of me. i’m really just treating you like how you treat everybody else.”
he made you sound like something straight out of hell and you couldn’t help but think it was an unfair justification for something that felt too close to punishment. he obviously thought he knew you better than he did and it made you aggravated. that, or he somehow thought he was better than you.
there was a fleeting second of relief when jake unmounted your chest and let you breathe, only to be crushed again when he dragged you by your wrists to the edge of your mattress, leaving you in the deep end. your eyes struggled to grasp with the flipped image of him nearing you, cock back down your throat before you could even blink.
though his hips thankfully had been moving at a calmer, steady pace before, despite forcing himself deeper than you could handle, he began to thrust more urgently into your mouth with the new change, embedding himself even further into your throat than you knew was possible.
you cried harder, hating every second of it. the salty, bitter tang of your tears mingled with the tainted taste of spit and sharp bite of precum that had come to stain your chin and cupid’s bow. the vigor of his movements was overwhelming, overpowering.
“that’s it, cheerleader. cry harder,” jake taunted, tracing his thumb over your face to swipe at the trail of tears. all the while his hips were moving faster, harder.
it felt like such a mockery, him doing that. a feigned act of sympathy while perpetuating the torment that was reducing you to tears as a selfish means of achieving pleasure of his own.
then, his hands wandered down to your breasts, slipping inside your night shirt and mauling your chest. running his hands in a circle, his thumb brushed the erect, colored nipples and he clasped his hands around your chest, squeezing your breasts. “fuck, i’m close,” he grunted, grip tightening, pace hastening, force increasing.
with how close he was, your nose was squarely against his the flesh of his balls, effectively cutting off your exhale. your heart thudded, racing and pounding. tensing with panic, your hands frantically moved, striking at his navel and thighs. even your legs were in alarm, unstill towards the other end of the bed.
jake groaned, smacking your cheek. another slap followed the sizzle, straight against your chest. “calm the fuck down,” he hissed, raising his arm in preparation to hit you again. “i’ll let you breathe as soon as i come, so you better not get in the way, if you know what’s good for you.”
even if you wanted to, you couldn’t stay calm. your body physically couldn’t handle it, responding the only way it knew how, trying to protect you. somebody had to. you closed your eyes, face warm with tears and panic, and you tried to brace your hands on the sheets, anything to comfort and stabilize yourself.
it got to a point where jake couldn’t hold back anymore and he climaxed with a prolonged, guttural groan, hips still brutally smacking into your mouth as he painted your tongue and the back of your throat with his cum. he went as far as to grab your head again, forcing himself onto you as deep as he could go, and demanding, “swallow it.”
like hell you would. you pushed him away, coughing and choking as soon as you did, drops of cum pooling from your mouth and some of it flying here and there in the midst of your coughing fit.
irritated, jake pressed his tongue against the roof his mouth. “you’re so fucking useless,” he groaned, grabbing his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants and quickly turning on the camera. “look at you. sitting here choking on my cum. you want it again, don’t you?”
you sat up, nearly tumbling over the edge of your bed from the intense convulsing, and turned to face the other way as you hunched over, tightly clasping your sheets. “fuck off, you got what you wanted!” you rasped.
jake laughed. you sounded so gravelly. “you’re right. i did,” he replied, putting back on his pants and pocketing his phone. “so, tutoring. i’ll see you tomorrow. nighty night, cheerleader.”
he gave you a pat on the head and turned, heading straight for the door.
▸ hard feelings
something about today was different than usual.
when you woke up, you had felt a shift in the air, but you’d chalked it up to being nervous about the final you had in three hours.
but when you finally went to go take it, however, you quickly realized that the unsettling feeling you had was not simply pre-exam jitters. it was something much more sinister than that. with the status you held on campus, you were used to being watched and gawked at, but this was different.
it felt like everybody and their mother was looking at you.
you were confused. you had been the subject of this much attention before, but only once; it was a couple years back when someone had spread a dirty, foul rumor about you. there was a social media page for your school called top ten, mostly used to shame women for their sexual exploits, but some men made their way on it too. that was how you heard about sunghoon’s clap rumor.
long story short, a rumor about you had originated there and it had taken you weeks to clear your name. but by that time, there was already another slut of the week. you were lucky to have your situation not only be false and debunked, but word of mouth. only the most unlucky of people, like hyeri, got images or videos of themselves posted.
and you were a community favorite. you would understand if you were new, but you had built a reputation around here. why would anybody believe floating rumors about you now?
but the abundance of stares didn’t end there. even in the cafe, you had caught someone watching you a little too hard to be a casual leer of admiration. and you were determined to find out why.
fortunately, you were able to find jennie and roseanne walking and talking in the courtyard, and you called out their names to stop them.
jennie turned first, and you watched her smile drop in real time. she glanced around, frantic, as if she was worried about someone watching her too.
roseanne smiled thinly, halfheartedly lifting her hand to wave. “hey,” she greeted quietly, matching jennie’s nerves.
they knew something you didn’t and it was glaringly obvious. “what’s going on?” you asked. “everyone’s looking at me and i know i’m not going crazy yet.”
jennie and roseanne glanced between each other, as if they both had bad news but neither of them wanted to be the one to tell you. after a few seconds, jennie groaned and said, “you might want to check top ten.”
your brows furrowed. you, on top ten? again? god, people could be so infuriating. “ugh, what rumor did they spread about me this time?”
jennie winced, which only made you more anxious. “it’s not just a rumor,” she whispered. “…it’s a video.”
“video?” you echoed in disbelief. that didn’t make sense. you hadn’t been with anyone except… except jake. you tensed with anger.
roseanne opened her phone to show you the video that had been posted. it was an anonymous submission that claimed to be a recording of you. unfortunately, it was you, bits of your chest exposed from jake reaching into your shirt and drops of cum landing there as you fought for breath. your face wasn’t visible, but there were some other distinguishing signs, like your hair and skin and sheets.
your heart thudded and your shoulders went cold, but your eyes were scalding. you were well aware that jake didn’t like you, you didn’t exactly love him either, but you never thought he would stoop low enough to hurt you like this.
“i’m sorry,” roseanne apologized, dropping her phone in her purse when you were done. the video was only a few seconds long, but the damage was forever. “but don’t worry. it’s not like it’s top three worthy. everyone will move on next week.”
jennie nodded in agreement and briefly patted your back. “yeah. we’ll hang out again when this all blows over, i promise.”
then, they walked away. leaving you reeling with ache and betrayal. your friends didn’t want to be seen with you anymore. you were an embarrassment.
you swallowed the bitter feeling scorching up your throat and tapped your pockets for your phone, knowing there was one person you needed to see.
you: you and i need to talk. right now.
jake: about what?
you: don’t play dumb, i know you sent that video in!
jake: maybe u should have swallowed
you: you know what, i don’t need you. i never have. and i don’t want your help anymore. just leave me alone
jake: [one attachment]
jake: you sure about that? because i’m sure there’s plenty of people that would love to see the version with your face in it
you gawked, hiding your phone screen against your chest while glancing around to make sure no one could see.
adjusting your brightness, you unlocked your phone again and texted him back hurriedly.
you: why are you doing this?! i’ve never done anything to you
jake: this is bigger than just you and me
jake: now if you don’t want everyone to see that pretty face, come put those lips around me again and we can work something out
and that was how it started. though you hadn’t had the upper hand in weeks, this was the moment you completely lost it. what was once an arrangement for him to help you in exchange for your attention became a hole of misery that you couldn’t dig yourself out of.
one blowjob became two, and two became three until you started to immediately recognize what it meant when you saw his name appear on your screen, knowing what it was before he even asked. not that he ever technically asked. it was always a command, a claim to your body wherever and whenever he wanted.
if you tried to be strong, if you tried to break free of him, he always threatened to make sure that recordings of you on your knees for him went up for all the world to see and no one would ever think of you the same way again. he was more than willing to taint the pretty, perfect image of yourself that you presented to the world.
you felt stuck, trapped. isolated with nowhere to go, no way out. you tried to conjure up a way to escape this situation, but you couldn’t think of anything feasible. if you wanted to protect what was left of your social life and dignity, if you wanted to go outside without being ashamed, your only option was to be compliant.
no matter how many late nights and sore throats you had to go through.
you were in the middle of dozing off, your head leaning off to the side, when the sound of your phone ringing suddenly jolted you awake. you were tempted to ignore it until you saw the contact and begrudgingly pressed the phone to your ear. “hello?” you grumbled.
“i’ve been texting you,” jake said, sounding miffed.
you sighed, glancing over at the clock on your nightstand. “it’s literally two in the morning,” you complained. “i just got home from cheer practice and i’m trying to study for my last final. i haven’t even showered yet.”
“aw, poor thing,” jake crooned, pretending to care. “come over.”
you heartless, selfish bastard, you snapped in your head. of course, you were in no place to say that out loud, so you settled for a calm, “okay,” and hung up.
stifling a yawn, you grabbed your keys and lazily stepped into a nearby pair of shoes, stretching your arms above your head before willing yourself to get up from your desk chair. then, you accidentally scraped your leg against the bottom drawer of your desk, which you’d accidentally left open.
“ow!” you cried out, bending down a little. “god, why does this world hate me? what did i do wrong?”
it was a wonder you managed to make it to jake’s apartment without getting into a wreck, although at this point, you wouldn’t care if you had as long as it killed you. or put you into an indefinite coma.
on the other hand, jake seemed strangely enthusiastic to see you and looked full of life and energy. “there you are, cheerleader,” he said, pulling you in to hug you from behind. he led you over to his couch, much like he always did.
you covered your mouth with your elbow as you yawned. “can we get this over with? i’m sleepy.”
jake chuckled. “i don’t want you to suck me off. not right now.”
your brows furrowed, wondering if you had heard him right. if not for that, then why were the hell were you here?
“i’m sad,” jake said, not even attempting to keep the smug smile off his face. “i need you to cheer me up.”
you blinked at him like he was stupid. “cheer… you up?”
jake nodded his head, glancing you over with a grin. you looked like hell. partly because you were so obviously exhausted, but he knew he’d been having an effect on you too. “yeah, cheer me up. you’re a cheerleader,” he reminded, sounding proud of himself. “i want you to do your routine for me.”
you gawked in disbelief and whined, “i’m not even in my uniform.”
“so?” jake asked. “those bones might be tired, but they still work. matter of fact, take everything off.”
you were quick to exclaim, “what the hell? jake, can i please just do it later? everything hurts.”
“take everything off,” jake repeated, his voice more stern this time. “and move your ass.”
defeated, you reluctantly began to peel off your clothes, ignoring the way jake shamelessly ogled you for the sake of your own comfort and tugging your shirt from above your head. you couldn’t even look at him as you abashedly stepped out of your shorts and panties.
what was even more mortifying was having to perform every stupid little routine for him with your entire body on display and your chest bouncing with every motion. putting on the sweet, forced smile and calling out the chants you’d memorized, all the while ignoring how your bones ached.
when you were done, he made you sit in his lap so he could touch you as he pleased, paying no mind to the way you squirmed uncomfortably.
you cried enough tears to occupy a sixth ocean the next day. you weren’t exactly sure why. you just remembered miraculously waking up in your bed, sitting up and staring into empty space, and the water crashing down after a few minutes. it took you even longer to notice you were sobbing.
after a couple of meaningless hours, you got the random urge to call your moan, yearning to hear her voice. “mommy?” you said when she picked up.
“she calls,” your mother chirped, pleasantly surprised. “hi, baby. i was starting to wonder if you’d forgotten about little ole’ me. you know, you never come see me anymore.”
you forced yourself to laugh, trying to strip your voice of the agony so that she wouldn’t notice. “i know. i’m sorry,” you apologized quietly. “i’ll come see you soon.”
“you better,” your mother snapped playfully, no real malice in her voice. “now, what’d you call me for? and don’t say just to check up on me, because that’s a damn lie.”
“i miss you,” you confessed.
“a lie don’t care who tell it.”
“ma,” you groaned, knowing she was just messing around. “i swear i do.”
“mm-hm,” your mother hummed. you could already picture her in your head, eyeing you with suspicion, arms folded over her chest. “let me guess why you really called. you’re having boy trouble.”
your eyes flickered in surprise. how did she know? you doubted it was exactly what she was thinking, but she was close enough. “yeah, something like that.”
there was no doubt that your mother sounded excited. you had always seem thoroughly uninterested in boys and dating, and while she was thankful when you were a teenager, it was a little worrying now. “it’s about time,” she said, clasping her hands together. “tell me all about it.”
you sighed, wondering how you could tell her about jake without making her fret. she had gotten all pumped, you didn’t want to tear her down and ruin everything. “well, there’s this guy i met almost two months ago. at first, i didn’t feel anything for him. he was just another boy, you know. someone i could keep around for a good time, not a long one.”
your mother hummed again. you could hear metal pans clacking against her counter and assumed she was cooking. she always did that.
taking a deep breath, you continued, “but everything changed. he’s different from every other guy i’ve dealt with. he doesn’t just do what i say because i say so. and as the weeks passed, he’s started listening to me less and less than he already was.”
your mother chuckled. “and you didn’t like that, huh? got your mother’s stubborn heart and indomitable spirit.”
in truth, you didn’t think you had half of your mother’s strength, but you would never tell her that. as far as she knew, everything was going perfectly in the life you’d created here on campus. and it probably was the last time you’d spoken to her. “yeah,” you replied, wishing that were true. “i don’t like it. he makes me feel something i’ve never felt before.”
“he makes you feel powerless,” your mother told you. “he’s got you feeling weak because he’s the first man you’ve ever met willing to stand up to you. trust me, i was surprised the first time too. that’s how you got here.”
“ma,” you groaned with a wince.
she laughed. the sound made you happy, something you hadn’t been so certain you were capable of feeling anymore. “i’m just keeping it real.”
you thought about her words. she may have been way off in her perception of what this relationship between you and jake really was, but she wasn’t wrong about how he made you feel. weak, powerless. suddenly, this consuming feeling you’d been having for weeks finally had a name, and yet that made it even harder to come to terms with.
because you didn’t want to be powerless. you wanted to be in charge, in control. you hated when things didn’t go your way, and more importantly, you hated when there was nothing you could do about it. it was supposed to be you wielding power over people’s head, not being crushed beneath the weight of tyranny.
and it was then you fully realized the scope of your feelings; you absolutely hated jake sim.
▸ cheerleader? breed her!
standing there in a skimpy dress, face done and your feet clamped in heels that made you four inches taller, you didn’t feel like yourself.
you thought that you would. in truth, you hadn’t feel like yourself in months. today marked a little over two months since you made the mistake of beginning that agreement with jake and you regretted it more than anything. he had completely ruined you, your life, and everything that made you feel whole.
there were pieces of yourself that you would never get back, thanks to him. it was true that everyone had forgotten about the ordeal regarding the recording of you, but not without cost. it was a price you were still paying everyday; even when you weren’t on your knees or otherwise commiting demeaning acts for the sake of jake’s entertainment, you were hurting and mourning yourself.
you were starting to wonder if it was worth it. obviously, you liked being respected amongst your fellow students, but you were no longer certain if their respect was worth the price of your sanity. it was hard for you to even have basic interactions without giving away how incredibly lonely and isolated you felt, how trapped and doomed you were. helpless and powerless.
jake came up behind you, startling you. he was like a wolf and you were a little lamb masquerading as a wolf. “there you are, baby,” he said, snaking his hands around your waist. he seemed to love doing that. “did you know our anniversary was a few days ago?”
you scoffed. the two-month anniversary of the worst decision of your life to date. there was nothing you would’ve give to undo it. doing your homework yourself would have spared you so much unnecessary pain. “stop doing that,” you whined, scanning the party. “someone will see.”
jake chuckled, clearly not giving a damn. “unlike someone, i don’t really care what people think about me.”
you wished you didn’t care. there would always be a part of you that cared, that was so afraid of what people could say about her that she would do anything to tailor her image perfectly. matter of fact, it was all you had cared about in high school, and every year after that was spent maintaining the brand.
jake’s hand went from your waist to your ass, making you tense in his grasp. “you know, i think i deserve some kind of compensation for putting up with you for two months.”
you deserved that too. freedom. being unshackled from his cruel, unrelenting orders was the one thing you wanted most and the one thing he refused to give you. “don’t you have your compensation almost every day?” you asked irritably.
“that’s not nearly enough,” jake insisted, squeezing your ass.
god, how greedy could someone be? it was like he wanted to bleed you dry until there was nothing left.
“you know what i want?” jake asked huskily, leaning into your ear. “i wanna fuck you.”
your eyes widened a little. you had hoped this day would never come, even though you weren’t oblivious to the fact that jake had steadily gotten bolder in his interactions with you, the things he made you do for his satisfaction becoming entirely more erotic.
grabbing your arm, jake started to lead you away. “come on, let’s go.”
you rooted in place, nearly stumbling. you didn’t want to go anywhere with him, especially if it meant putting up with his insatiable urges. “jake, i don’t want to,” you said, trying to push at him.
jake scoffed, wondering when you would realize that he didn’t care what you wanted and you had no way of winning. “if you want to make a scene in front of all these lovely people, be my guest,” he hissed in your ear.
panicked, you glanced around the crowd in search of someone that could save you. it was like everybody was looking at you until you actually needed them to.
then, you locked eyes with jungwon. matter of fact, it seemed like he’d been looking at you much before you’d even glanced in his general direction. he saw you, saw the way jake was holding you roughly, saw the obvious stiffness on your face, saw the pleading look in your eyes; but ultimately, jungwon saw the image of you letting him down after bleeding him dry for half a year, and he turned away.
your shoulders slumped in defeat.
jake started dragging you toward the stairs, pushing past a bunch of drunk people dancing on each other. your heart was thumping, and your whole body was rigid with nerves as you tried to think of a way out of this even though you knew there was no option without consequences.
just your luck, the bathroom jake hauled you too was empty. he pushed you in and locked the door, pressing you against the counter. you gasped and glanced at your reflection in the mirror, hardly recognizing yourself. “jake, please,” you whispered, trying to plead with him. “please, don’t do this.”
jake didn’t seem moved by your begging, but he did, however, appear amused. “why are you acting so sensitive about this after all we’ve done together? it’s like you’ve never gotten fucked or something.”
you swallowed, not saying a word.
the silence was very loud, very telling. jake arched a brow, a realization dawning on him. “you really have never been fucked,” he said, surprised. “damn, i should have figured that out when you were acting like you never sucked dick before.”
your face flushed with heat. it wasn’t like you were necessarily embarrassed about it, not until now. you had always taken it as something to pride yourself on, being fuckable but untouchable. “you say that like it’s a bad thing,” you replied, glancing down at the sink to avoid eye contact.
jake chuckled. it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but he had been convinced that you were completely pretending to be a goody two-shoes. to know there was at least one percent of you that was still pure amazed him. he lifted the skirt of your dress with his hand and brought it between your legs, asking, “what, you just never find anyone worthy enough for your perfect, sacred pussy?”
you gasped out when he touched you there. his fingers circled your clothed cunt, thumb digging into your inner thigh. feeling scandalized, you grumbled, “maybe i’m just not interested.”
jake shook his head, astonished by the amount of attitude you still had after all these months and determined to break it out of you. “and maybe i just don’t care if you’re interested or not.”
it went without saying that jake always made you feel like some kind of object, but this was next level. “this is dehumanizing!” you exclaimed.
hearing you, of all people, talk about dehumanizing made for an interesting conversation. big, calloused hand pressing harder into you, he asked tauntingly, “doesn’t feel good, does it?”
your glossy, painted lips were parted, unable to breathe through your nose. your eyes burned with the threat of tears and it was becoming second nature for them to shed whenever jake was nearby. “i don’t understand,” you whimpered, trying to free yourself, but to no avail. “why are you doing this to me? what have i ever done to deserve this?”
jake could feel you struggling, trying to push him off you, but all it did was move your hips against his rapidly hardening cock. he groaned, grabbing hold of your ass and pushing you further back against him. “fuck, just like that,” he growled. “haven’t i told you this already? this is bigger than you and me.”
it wasn’t lost on you that jake obviously had heard stories about you from other people, stories of happenings you probably couldn’t deny, but it had nothing to do with him. “look, if you’re doing all this to get back at me because i hurt one of your friends or something, i’m sorry, i really am. but i can’t do this anymore, jake. i want to stop, please. please let me go on with my life.”
“what a privileged response,” jake hissed without concealing his vitriol. at the same time, he kept palming you over your panties, noticing them beginning to cling to your cunt, and tore your underwear to the side to insert a pair of fingers inside. “what about all those girls whose lives you ruined? i’m sure they wanted you to stop. and you didn’t until they were too humiliated to show their faces around here again and you had no choice.”
you swallowed the lump in your throat. he knew about the girls? “jake, i haven’t done that since freshman year,” you told him, desperately trying to reason with him.
two loud, harsh smacks echoed in the tiny, crowded space of the bathroom, followed by a gasp consequently. your pussy stung, your head jerking around to look at jake. “do you really think that matters?” he asked, grabbing your hair to turn you back around just as quickly, as if you didn’t deserve to look at him. “you think that matters when the pain you’ve done to them is permanent? they don’t forget. and they damn sure don’t forgive you.”
you tensed, hating the way your walls were gripping and gushing around his fingers. “so what? you think you’re god or something? is this you punishing me for my sins? you’re not exactly what i would call a saint, either.”
“me and you, we’re not the same,” jake remarked, a nip to his tone as if you needed the reminder of how much he disliked you. “you only pick on people that you think are below you somehow. people you think won’t fight back.”
“i know i’m not a good person,” you admitted in between gasps, thighs straining as his fingers pumped into your pussy harder, faster, reaching places you’d never touched on your own. “ i know i don’t deserve to be happy. maybe i don’t even deserve to be treated with respect, but please leave me this one thing. spare me just this once.”
jake laughed cruelly, pulling his fingers out of your drenched hole and smearing your juices all over your folds and thighs. his finger unintentionally swiped over your sensitive clit, making your legs quiver and your stomach tighten, sucking in itself.
“damn, baby. you really know how to hurt my feelings,” jake said, voice dripping with sarcasm. he withdrew his fingers, bringing them into his mouth for a taste. “you don’t want me to fuck you that bad?”
your heart was spiking with dread, thumping belligerently in your chest, your ears, and between your legs. no one had ever made you feel so vanquished.
“take my dick out,” jake said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “hurry up.”
you sighed anguishedly, turning around to undo his pants and slip his aching dick out of its confinements. for months, jake had been suppressing the urge to fuck you, wanting to wait for the moment where it would be most pivotal.
getting a hold of your throat, jake roughly yanked you flush against him the second you whirled back around to face the tiny bathroom counter, making you stand tall against his chest. his voice was almost as rough as the hands that held you. “put it in.”
you gawked, shaking your head.
his fingers tightened dangerously around your windpipe, making your damp eyes widen and your jaw slack against his whitening knuckles, maybe half a wheeze making its way out your throat before he warned, “if i have to fucking tell you again, i’m gonna crush every bone in your goddamn neck.”
with no other option, you meekly reached behind you to grasp him in your quivering hand, aimlessly steering him to your hole and sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as the tip brushed past your dripping folds. jake released a shaky breath, slapping your hand away and rutting his hips into you from behind, sheathing himself inside in one go.
he slackened his unforgiving grip on your throat, shoving you back against the counter none too gently, but you still felt like you couldn’t breathe when he entered you, a mangled whimper echoing out. your fingers desperately braced the edges of the counter for purchase as you tried to will yourself to inhale, but it was like you were choking.
jake had a death grip on your thighs, forcibly pushing them apart a little more as he coated himself with the creamy, hot wetness of your unwanted arousal. “mm, hard to believe you don’t secretly want me when you’re sucking me in like this, baby,” he said, proud.
you shook your head in denial, face flushing with a heat that spread to your ears and neck. it didn’t help that there were beads of salty, hot tears pouring down your face and reducing your vision to one big, hazy blur. you didn’t want him, not even a little bit. but you couldn’t control the way your body was responding.
the lewd, wet smack of his cock thrusting deeply into your tight cunt rang out so loudly that you wanted nothing more than to hide into oblivion and never be seen again, mortified. it made things seem so much different than they were. his long, thick cock was stretching you beyond the cusp your limits and making you gape.
“i’m so nice to you,” jake said, tipping his head back. you could see his chest rising and falling through his clothes, his body taut with pleasure and excitement. “i’ve been holding back for so long, trying not to fuck you. won’t keep me out this pussy now. i’m gonna fuck you till your legs give out. have you at practice limping.”
your knees, wobbly as they already were, began knocking into the cabinets at the bottom of the sink. you winced your eyes closed as your fingers curled around the edge of the counter roughly enough to change the color around your knuckles, hoping to think of something, anything, to take you out of the moment.
but it was too hard. you couldn’t ignore the throb of your gushing walls as they kneaded his cock, making him grunt in your ear as he leaned over your backside. you couldn’t ignore the faint sting of his nails stabbing your hips and his heavy palm slapping repeatedly against your ass. and you definitely couldn’t ignore the dirtiness staining you from head to toe.
sure, it felt good, his body rocking against yours steadily, but it didn’t feel right. many nights you had pictured what losing your virginity would be like, both the way that it was supposed to look and the way that you were more inclined to, but this was neither; it was heartless, it was punishing, and it was brutal.
jake grabbed you by your hair and forced you to look into the mirror, yanking your head up. “there it is,” he spat, words sounding painfully familiar. “there’s the real you.”
your hair was messy from him tugging it every which way, treating you like a doll to mishandle. your makeup was ruined from your sobbing, the path of your tears harsh against everything else. your eyes were red and your right lash looked like it was barely holding on, the effect of rubbing at your face.
jake watched you take in the destroyed sight of yourself, practically hearing the critical thoughts hopping in your mind. “this is what you really are. this is what you’re sucking my dick to keep hidden from the world. is it worth it, baby? or do you just like the way i taste on your tongue?”
no, it wasn’t worth it. you were beginning to understand that now. he was taking too much from you, too much of your peace and too much of your sanity. maybe it would be better to be judged and lonely but free than to be loved by people whose opinion of you could change on a dime anyway at the expense of your soul.
your pride had been buried a long time ago, brutally murdered in her sleep. “jake, please stop. i’m uncomfortable,” you complained, tearing your eyes away from your reflection in shame.
jake smacked your ass again, making you cry out sharply. “you just love being the victim when it’s convenient for you, huh?”
“i’m sorry!” you whimpered. “i don’t know what you want me to do. what do you want? just tell me.”
jake snickered, running his hands over your hips and waist to knead the flesh. then, he brushed your hair out of your face, nibbling at the skin behind your ear before growling, “you know what i want, cheerleader? i want to assassinate all there is that you love about yourself and leave everything else untouched, so that you understand not why everybody hates you, but why nobody loves you.”
those words hit you straight in the gut. for the first time, you had no retort, no comeback.
hips beginning to move faster, jake continued, “the boys don’t love you, they just want to fuck you. they would kill to be as deep inside you as i am. the girls sure as hell don’t love you. they either want to be you, or they resent you for beating their asses. and don’t get me started on those girls you call friends.”
“jake, stop,” you whispered, an agony vicious enough to rip through flesh tearing you straight in half.
but jake didn’t listen. he wasn’t done, not until he made his point. “don’t think i didn’t notice how lonely you were for the whole week everybody was talking shit about you. they didn’t want to touch you with a six foot pole, did they? they don’t want to be seen with you unless it gives them a good rep.”
there was a pang in your chest. you didn’t want to admit it, but that cut deep. you had heard people say mean things about you before, it was to expected when you were an emblem of popularity on campus, but few things had reached you where it hurt.
jake stroked your messy cheek, almost with affection. “but it’s okay. because you want to know something, baby? it was hard for me to admit it to myself, but you truly fascinate me. i can’t get you out of my head sometimes. you piss me off every time without fail, but i keep coming back to you. i like you, baby. if no one else does. you grew on me.”
you weren’t sure if that was supposed to make you feel better, but it didn’t. if anything, you only felt more heartbroken and wounded not only by his words, but by your inability to counter them. it truly dawned on you, right then, just how alone you were.
jake threw his head back, grunting. his hips were moving with a mind of their own, eager to finish. “fuck, i’m gonna come.”
your eyes went wide in panic, remembering that he had gone in bareback.
“jake, don’t…”
before you could even finish your statement, jake clamped a hand over your mouth, muffling your protests into his pale palm. “you know what guys at my school used to say about cheerleaders?” he asked, obviously not expecting a response. “‘see a cheerleader, breed a cheerleader.’ ‘cheerleader? breed her.’”
you thrashed, but it was pointless. those thick, burly biceps of jake’s were one of the first things you noticed about him and they weren’t just for display. he held you in place as he quickened his pace again, his thrusts unrelenting.
with a couple more quick yet shockingly rhythmic thrusts, jake emptied his load deep, deep inside you. he moaned, moving his hands from your mouth to your hips to keep himself steady as he reeled from the pleasure of a mind-numbing orgasm. “goddamn,” he cursed, panting for breath.
you stifled a small noise as you felt his warmth flooding into you, unsure how to feel at this point.
to your surprise, jake started fucking you again, never once daring to pull out as if he was determined to fuck every drop of his sticky cum as deep inside you as it could reach. his stringy, thick load gathered on his dick and inside your pussy, leaking down your thighs as he kept going.
you gasped out, moans involuntarily leaving you as you were stuffed full of him over and over. you didn’t mean to, but it was impossible to control.
then, jake stuck a hand between your legs and rolled his thumb over your clit, which didn’t help. you cried out, tensing. “jake, stop! it’s sensitive.”
“that’s the point, dummy,” jake replied, stimulating your clit with his hand while simultaneously pumping himself into you from behind.
your core tightened, heat wafting over you as your chest heaved wildly. “what are you doing?” you stammered.
jake smiled, watching in the mirror how your face tensed with a blend of confusion and ecstasy that you couldn’t rein. “you really think i’m an asshole, huh? i’m trying to make you come. relax and let me.”
you shook your head. you didn’t want to come, not for him, and most definitely not on his cock for him to feel every unintentional shudder of your pussy as it gushed and pulsed with hot, sweet release; that would be embarrassing.
that made jake chuckle. “no? you don’t wanna come for me, baby?” he asked, furrowing his brows playfully as he tilted your face back up to the mirror with a push of your jaw. “come on, let go. you keep saying i’m not a good guy, but you shoot me down when i try to be nice.”
you moaned again, against your own reason and better judgment. “please,” you rasped with half a breath.
“please, what?” jake asked, rubbing you with just a pinch more force. “do you even know?”
god, you hated him; you absolutely despised him. but damn, if it didn’t feel good to have someone touch you after you’d spent so long avoiding sex like it was something to be ashamed of.
and this? this was definitely something you were ashamed of.
and yet the most shameful moment, perhaps, was when you finally couldn’t resist the pleasure of his big, long fingers twirling around your sensitive nub and his brutal hips smacking into you with a vengeance, clamping around him as you orgasmed with a loud cry and the heat shot through every corner of your body.
“shit,” jake hissed, the feel of you finishing around him draining the cum from his balls for a second time.
your jaw slacked, overwhelmed by how you felt completely and utterly stuffed, ropes of his cum filling you to the hilt. jake thrusted into you a little more, sending a flare through your back and shoulders, until he stilled for good. you could hear him panting behind you.
after a moment or two, jake pulled out. hand between your thighs, he gathered some of his stringy release on his finger and brought it up to your lips. “open up. don’t make me say it again.”
you opened your mouth wide enough for him to insert two of his cum-coated fingers inside. then, you sucked at them and swallowed it down, knowing those would be the next words to leave his mouth.
jake raised a brow, pleasantly surprised. he took his time to withdraw his fingers, enjoying the sensation of you licking them clean. “see, i knew you loved eating my cum.”
your face burned, but you didn’t have the energy to deny it. not after that. it felt like there was a gaping hole in your chest, a void that would never be filled.
“you’re learning,” jake commented, humming in satisfaction. “good girl. you know, maybe one day we can get along. don’t you think?”
“yeah,” you murmured weakly. at this point, you would just go along with whatever he said. and maybe that was why he figured you could experience some peace together now.
keeping your dress bunched up, jake grabbed some tissues from his left and started to wipe at you. “let’s get you cleaned up before we leave, cheerleader. don’t want the entire student body to see you like this, right?”
you whipped your head around, eyes widening in surprise. leaving to go where? certainly you weren’t going home with him after tonight.
“did you think i was kidding?” jake asked with a sly smile, slipping your panties backing in place and giving your shoulder a fleeting kiss. “i told you, i’m gonna fuck you till your legs give out.”
#jake sim smut#enhypen smut#sim jaeyun smut#jake smut#enhypen x reader#enha smut#enhypen x you#enhypen hard hours#enha x reader#jake sim x reader#sim jaeyun x reader
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
❝ TOUCH ME, TAKE ME, KISS ME ❞

ft. gojo, geto & shoko. (4some)
꒰ synopsis. where celebrating new year’s with your best friends turns into something much more intimate—one kiss at midnight isn’t nearly enough.
warnings. MDNI. college au. fem! reader, fōursome, mutual pining, unprotected p in v, orāl (f! and m! receiving), fingerıng (f! and m! receiving), clıt stimulation, overstimulation, dirty talk, shared partner dynamics, voyeurism, slight dom/sub vibes, hair pulling, teasing, praise kink, body worship, light biting/marking, cųm play, & multiple orgasmś.
the cabin was exactly what you’d expect from satoru gojo – unnecessarily luxurious, tucked away on the outskirts of a snowy mountain town, and equipped with every amenity that screamed rich kid with too much money to burn.
“seriously, satoru, who the hell needs a jacuzzi in their living room?” shoko teased, setting her duffel down by the entryway. the bubbling water glowed from the built-in lights, steam curling lazily into the warm space.
gojo smirked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his black hoodie. “it’s about the vibes, shoko. the experience. and, i dunno, maybe i just like having options.”
geto, sitting cross-legged on the couch, glanced up from his phone. “yeah? and when’s the last time you used it?”
“hey, i brought you guys here, didn’t i? sounds like ungrateful energy to me,” gojo shot back, though his grin didn’t waver.
you chuckled softly, toeing off your boots near the fireplace, letting the heat seep through your socks. the large windows stretched across the far wall, showcasing the snow falling steadily outside, blanketing the trees under the silver moonlight.
“he’s right, though,” you chimed in, peeling off your jacket. “we could’ve rung in the new year at some regular house party. but instead, we’re here. cozy, secluded... not the worst way to spend our last new year as college students.”
“see? someone gets it,” gojo said, flashing you that familiar, lopsided grin.
you rolled your eyes, but the truth was, you didn’t mind. the four of you had been close since your freshman year, and as the years piled up, so did the late-night study sessions, spontaneous road trips, and drunken confessions after long nights out. this felt like a full-circle moment. one final hurrah before graduation came sweeping in to change everything.
shoko tossed herself onto the couch beside geto, tugging off her beanie and shaking out her hair. “so, what’s the plan? drinking games until midnight, or are we just free-styling it?”
“why not both?” suguru said, stretching an arm behind her, fingers brushing lightly against your shoulder where you leaned against the armrest. the contact was subtle, but you felt it linger.
gojo raised a brow, tilting his head dramatically. “i was thinking strip poker.”
shoko snorted, flicking his forehead. “sure. you’d be naked in five minutes.”
“is that supposed to be a problem?”
your eyes flickered to suguru, catching the small smirk pulling at his lips. his gaze met yours for half a second, dark eyes flickering with something unreadable, before dropping back to his phone.
this wasn’t the first time you’d caught the lingering tension between everyone – the casual touches, the way shoko’s gaze would sometimes linger on you a little too long, or the moments gojo’s hands would rest on your lower back at parties, guiding you through crowds when he didn’t really need to.
you weren’t oblivious. but none of you had ever crossed that line.
yet.
“alright, let’s start with drinks,” you suggested, pushing yourself to your feet. “anyone want to help me?”
“i got it,” geto said, standing with an easy grace. “come on.”
as the two of you headed into the kitchen, shoko and gojo’s quiet laughter echoed softly from the living room, the crackling fire filling the otherwise silent cabin.
suguru leaned against the counter, watching as you rummaged through the cabinets.
“so,” he started, his voice low and smooth, “how are you feeling about tonight?”
you glanced over your shoulder. “in general? or is this a ‘we’re about to graduate, what are you doing with your life?’ kind of question?”
his lips quirked. “both, maybe.”
you sighed, grabbing a bottle of whiskey. “i’m trying not to think about it too hard. tonight’s about celebrating, not panicking about the future.”
he nodded thoughtfully, but his eyes lingered.
“you know,” he mused, stepping closer, “satoru’s not wrong. it is kind of a waste to let this cabin go to waste.”
“what are you suggesting?” you teased, pouring the whiskey into a glass.
suguru’s gaze dipped, trailing over you slowly before flicking back to your eyes. “just saying… midnight’s a good time for new experiences.”
heat prickled your skin under his stare, but before you could respond, gojo’s voice rang out from the other room.
“hey, you two! quit flirting and bring the damn drinks!”
you laughed, but suguru didn’t move right away. instead, his fingers brushed lightly against your wrist as he grabbed the bottle from the counter, his touch lingering just long enough to make your breath hitch.
yeah. tonight was going to be interesting.
the drinks flowed easily, laughter spilling into the warm cabin air as the four of you huddled near the fireplace, sprawled across the plush rugs and oversized pillows. suguru sat beside you, his knee brushing yours with every shift, while gojo leaned against the couch, one long arm lazily slung around shoko’s shoulders.
“alright,” gojo drawled, tipping back his glass. his eyes glittered behind those obnoxious shades he insisted on wearing inside. “time for a game.”
“drinking game?” shoko asked, already halfway through her second glass of whiskey.
“nope.” gojo’s smirk curled wickedly. “truth or dare.”
you snorted, shaking your head. “what are we? sixteen?”
“don’t knock it,” suguru said smoothly, his eyes half-lidded as he sipped his drink. “it could be fun. besides, satoru’s incapable of suggesting anything mature.”
gojo shot him a look. “this coming from the guy who suggested skinny dipping in the hot tub an hour ago.”
“that was different. it was an intellectual suggestion.”
“sure it was.”
shoko waved a hand dismissively. “fine. truth or dare it is. but no stupid shit like licking the floor or whatever. we’re not in a frat house.”
gojo grinned, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “who’s starting?”
your hand shot up, aiming for the path of least resistance. “truth.”
“boring,” gojo muttered, but there was mischief behind the slight pout. “alright, fine. if you had to kiss one of us at midnight, who would it be?”
the room fell quiet for a beat too long. you felt three sets of eyes zero in on you, the weight of their attention thick enough to taste.
“uh—” you faltered, heat crawling up your neck.
“careful,” suguru murmured beside you, voice low and teasing. “we’ll know if you’re lying.”
your gaze flicked to his, catching the flicker of something darker in his expression. your heart thudded a little harder.
“i dunno,” you hedged, taking a slow sip of your drink. “depends on the mood, i guess.”
gojo leaned closer, grinning like he’d already won. “that’s not an answer.”
“then take it as my answer.”
shoko laughed, leaning back against the couch cushions. “she’s playing it safe. smart girl.”
but the tension lingered, subtle but persistent, weaving through the air like smoke.
“my turn,” suguru cut in smoothly, tilting his head toward gojo. “truth or dare?”
“dare, obviously.”
“kiss shoko.”
“easy.”
without hesitation, gojo leaned down and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to shoko’s lips. she didn’t pull away – if anything, her hand slid lazily up his arm, nails grazing lightly against his skin before they parted.
“you guys have done that before,” you pointed out, trying to ignore the heat twisting low in your stomach.
“multiple times,” shoko replied, smirking. “you’re late to the party.”
gojo winked. “jealous?”
“not particularly.”
but the idea lodged itself somewhere deep. maybe it was the alcohol warming your veins, or the way suguru’s hand rested against the small of your back, light but possessive, but the thought lingered.
midnight wasn’t that far off.
the countdown started around 11:50. the drinks were mostly forgotten by then, the four of you curled closer near the fire, the alcohol buzzing quietly in your heads.
“five minutes,” gojo announced, his voice dropping to something smoother, almost suggestive. “better start thinking about that kiss.”
shoko stretched her legs out, crossing them at the ankles. “maybe we should just kiss each other. take the guesswork out of it.”
your stomach flipped at her casual tone, but when you glanced at suguru, his gaze was already fixed on you.
“not opposed,” he said softly.
gojo made a low hum of approval, sitting up straighter. “why not?”
“you’re all serious about this?” you asked, voice tipping toward incredulous, but your pulse betrayed you, hammering against your ribs.
“you’re curious,” suguru countered, brushing his knuckles against your thigh.
and you were. the tension had been building for years – subtle glances, fleeting touches, unspoken things hanging just out of reach.
“alright,” you relented, the words tasting like adrenaline on your tongue. “fine.”
the countdown echoed on the tv screen, bright against the dim cabin.
ten.
nine.
suguru shifted closer, his thigh pressed against yours.
eight.
seven.
gojo’s gaze dropped to your lips, his grin softer, teasing.
six.
shoko leaned into your side, her arm brushing yours.
five.
four.
your breath hitched as suguru’s hand curled under your chin, tilting your face toward his.
three.
two.
one.
their lips met yours at the same time – suguru’s mouth warm and steady, while shoko’s was softer, tasting faintly of whiskey.
you lost yourself in it, your hand fisting in suguru’s shirt as gojo’s hand brushed against your lower back, slipping lower, pulling you closer.
and just like that, the line dissolved completely.
the kiss started playful—soft touches, slow exploration—but the heat behind it caught quickly, sparking into something heavier. suguru’s fingers brushed your jaw, coaxing your lips open as his tongue slid against yours, slow and possessive. shoko’s mouth trailed along your neck, leaving wet kisses against your pulse, while gojo’s hand slipped under the hem of your sweater, his palm warm as it splayed across your waist.
you broke the kiss with suguru only to meet shoko’s lips, her tongue teasing against yours as she pressed closer, her hands slipping down to rest on your thighs. the space between the four of you seemed to vanish, replaced by the weight of wandering hands and shared breaths.
gojo groaned softly, nipping at suguru’s bottom lip before tugging him back by the collar, stealing a kiss that left no room for subtlety. suguru didn’t resist, his hand tangling in gojo’s hair, tilting his head to deepen it. the sight had your breath catching, heat pooling low in your stomach.
“god, you two,” shoko muttered, smirking against your lips. “it’s like watching a porno.”
“jealous?” gojo quipped, pulling back just enough to catch his breath, his eyes glittering with amusement.
“maybe.”
“you get her,” suguru said smoothly, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. “we’ll be back.”
before you could question it, gojo grabbed suguru’s wrist and led him out of the living room, disappearing into the hall with low, breathy laughter echoing behind them.
the absence of their presence left you and shoko tangled together on the rug by the fire, the crackling flames casting soft shadows across her face.
“guess it’s just us,” she murmured, her fingers tracing light patterns over your thighs.
“seems like it,” you whispered, barely able to focus with the heat of her body pressed so close.
shoko didn’t waste time once the boys left the room. her lips crashed into yours, all tongue and teeth, as if she’d been holding back for too long. you could feel the heat radiating off her as her hands roamed your body, tugging at the edges of your sweater until it slipped over your head.
her palms were warm against your bare skin, fingertips skimming the soft curve of your breasts, and you gasped into her mouth, arching into her touch.
“fuck,” she whispered, eyes trailing down your body, drinking you in like she couldn’t get enough. “been waiting to get my hands on you all night.”
you let her take control, her nails scraping lightly down your back as she kissed a path to your collarbone, sucking a bruise into the delicate skin.
your sweater, jeans, and everything else ended up in a pile near the fireplace, leaving you bare and vulnerable in the soft flicker of firelight. shoko settled between your legs, her hands pressing your thighs apart with a confidence that had you squirming beneath her.
“you’re so wet already,” she murmured, dragging a single finger through your folds. “you like this, huh?”
you could barely nod, the sensation making you dizzy.
her mouth followed, soft lips trailing over the inside of your thighs, her tongue flicking out to catch the slick gathering at your core.
“fuck, shoko,” you gasped, hips bucking when she sucked your clit between her lips, the warmth of her tongue making you shudder.
her grip on your thighs tightened, nails digging into the soft flesh as she kept you pinned, her mouth relentless.
“stay still,” she mumbled, voice muffled against you.
it was impossible. you tugged lightly at her hair, desperate for something to hold onto as she worked you closer to the edge, her tongue curling just right.
you didn’t even notice the sound of footsteps until shoko pulled back slightly, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk.
“oh,” she hummed, licking her lips. “you two back already?”
your gaze snapped to the doorway.
gojo and geto stood there, completely bare, their cocks hard and already dripping.
“we were enjoying the view,” gojo said, his voice deeper, laced with something dark as his gaze fixed on you.
geto stepped forward first, his eyes hooded as he stroked himself lazily, clearly not in any rush. “didn’t know you’d start without us.”
“you two looked busy,” shoko teased, swiping her thumb across her bottom lip, catching the glisten of your arousal.
“don’t stop on our account,” gojo added, stepping closer, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock as he knelt beside you.
shoko chuckled, glancing down at you with amusement in her eyes. “what do you think?”
you didn’t know how to answer, too overwhelmed by the weight of their attention—the way geto’s dark gaze lingered on your mouth, the curve of gojo’s smirk as he ran his fingers along your inner thigh.
“she can take it,” geto murmured, brushing his lips along the curve of your jaw. “she’s been good so far.”
shoko shifted lower, her breath hot against your core, but this time, geto was beside her, his lips pressing soft kisses to your clit before shoko’s tongue joined him.
“fuck—” your breath hitched, your back arching off the floor as their mouths worked in tandem, the slick warmth of their tongues too much.
gojo, not wanting to be left out, moved behind you, his lips ghosting along your neck as his fingers slid into your pussy, curling to meet the rhythm of their mouths.
“so fucking pretty,” he whispered into your ear, biting lightly at the lobe. “you like being the center of attention, don’t you?”
you couldn’t answer, too caught up in the overwhelming sensation, your body trembling as the knot in your stomach tightened.
“c’mon,” shoko coaxed, her tongue circling your clit faster. “let go for us.”
you did, a sharp cry leaving your lips as your orgasm tore through you, your hips jerking uncontrollably as shoko and geto didn’t stop, their mouths and fingers milking every last drop of pleasure.
when you finally opened your eyes, dazed and breathless, geto was already shifting, settling between your legs as gojo moved to take his place beside shoko.
“don’t be greedy, shoko,” gojo teased, his lips brushing yours as geto lined himself up with your entrance, the thick head of his cock pressing inside.
shoko’s hand slipped beneath your jaw, guiding you to look at her as geto thrust into you, stretching you wide.
“you can give us one more,” she whispered, pressing her forehead to yours as her lips hovered inches from your mouth. “be a good girl for me, yeah?”
geto’s cock stretched you to the hilt, the fullness making you shudder as he bottomed out, his forehead pressed against yours. shoko’s hand traced slow circles along your cheek, grounding you with soft touches even as her other hand slipped lower, two fingers pressing against your clit, slick from how drenched you were.
“you’re taking him so well,” she whispered, her thumb brushing your bottom lip. “but you can take more, can’t you?”
you nodded weakly, body already trembling, but the praise made your stomach flutter.
gojo shifted, moving behind you, his lips trailing lazy kisses along the curve of your shoulder. “gonna open you up even more,” he murmured, his fingers dragging down the length of your stomach, teasing along the edge of your folds where geto’s cock stretched you.
you felt his middle finger slip inside, pressing against the soft spot geto wasn’t reaching. the sensation was dizzying.
“so fucking tight,” gojo hissed, sliding another finger in beside the first, stretching you further. “can feel how deep suguru is inside you.”
shoko’s breath tickled your lips as her fingers drifted lower, joining gojo’s as he stretched you open, the combination of their touches leaving you gasping.
“so sensitive,” shoko cooed, pressing soft kisses along your jawline, her fingers brushing light circles around your clit.
gojo’s third finger slipped inside, the stretch nearly overwhelming, and your nails dug into the rug beneath you as your back arched, your body tightening around them both.
“fuck,” geto grunted, his cock twitching inside you. “she’s squeezing me like crazy.”
“feels good, doesn’t it?” gojo teased, his smirk audible even if you couldn’t see him. “she’s so warm… bet you won’t last long.”
geto’s grip on your hips tightened, his thrusts slowing, each drag of his cock purposeful as he pushed deep, grinding against the spot that made you tremble.
you whimpered, barely able to take it all in, your body stretched beyond its limits but craving more. shoko kissed the corner of your mouth, her lips lingering just long enough to make you chase after her, your tongue brushing against hers in a soft, needy motion.
“i can feel how close you are,” she whispered, her fingers pinching your clit just enough to make you jolt. “you’re trembling.”
gojo’s fingers pressed deeper, curling in a way that sent sparks shooting through you, and you nearly sobbed from the intensity.
“you’re holding back,” gojo whispered in your ear, his lips brushing against your earlobe. “let go, sweetheart. we’re not stopping till you’re a mess beneath us.”
geto groaned, his pace faltering, hips snapping faster as he chased his own pleasure, his grip bruising in the best way.
shoko dipped her head lower, trailing soft kisses down your neck, her hand leaving your jaw to tug gently at one of your nipples, rolling it between her fingers as her other hand continued its teasing strokes over your swollen clit.
“give it to us,” she coaxed, her voice laced with a softness that made your chest ache. “you can take it, pretty girl. just one more, i know you can.”
your breath hitched, the knot in your stomach tightening as the pressure mounted.
“fuck—shoko, i’m gonna—”
“i know,” she whispered, her lips pressing to yours in a soft, breathless kiss.
the wave hit you hard, your walls fluttering around geto’s cock as your orgasm crashed over you, your hips jerking up to meet his thrusts as gojo’s fingers kept curling inside, stretching you open further.
“that’s it,” gojo growled, pulling his fingers out just as geto’s pace grew erratic.
“fuck, i’m close,” geto grunted, thrusting hard one last time before he groaned low in his throat, spilling into you with a slow roll of his hips.
shoko kissed you through it, swallowing your soft cries as geto leaned forward, his forehead resting against your shoulder, chest heaving.
but they didn’t stop.
geto groaned low in his throat, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he gave one last deep thrust, burying himself fully inside you as he spilled, warmth flooding your core.
your body trembled, the overstimulation leaving you breathless, forehead pressed against shoko’s shoulder as she ran soft fingers through your hair, grounding you.
“fuck,” geto whispered, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as he pulled out slowly, his cum slipping down your thighs, sticky and warm against your skin.
but even as geto leaned back, his hands still lingering on your hips, gojo wasn’t done.
his cock throbbed against your thigh, heavy and slick with precum, the tip flushed and desperate for attention.
you felt his gaze on you, his hand sliding over your jaw to tilt your face toward him.
“think you can help me out, pretty girl?” he murmured, his lips brushing yours in a teasing kiss, but his hips were already shifting closer, his cock pressing insistently against your palm.
you nodded, the quiet desperation in his voice making you throb, still sensitive from geto’s lingering touch. your fingers curled around him, warm and slick as you stroked slowly, feeling the weight of him in your hand.
“fuck, just like that,” he groaned, tipping his head back slightly as his hand covered yours, guiding your pace.
meanwhile, shoko shifted in front of you, her bare thighs brushing against your waist as she straddled you, her hands resting on your shoulders for balance.
“don’t forget about me,” she teased, voice low, but there was heat in her eyes as she grabbed your wrist, guiding your fingers between her legs.
her slick heat coated your fingers immediately as they slipped inside, making her moan softly against your ear, hips rolling to meet your touch.
“you feel that?” she whispered, her forehead pressed to yours, panting softly. “been wanting you to touch me like this all night.”
your palm pressed deeper, thumb brushing over her swollen clit, and she gasped, biting down gently on your bottom lip as her hips bucked forward.
but shoko wasn’t one to let you do all the work.
her other hand drifted between your legs, her fingers brushing over your overstimulated core, dragging through the mess geto left behind.
“so messy,” she murmured, her tone soft and teasing, but there was nothing gentle about the way she slipped two fingers inside you, pressing into the heat that still fluttered around nothing.
you whimpered, arching into her hand as your own pace on gojo faltered, your grip tightening around his cock.
“shit—” gojo hissed, his breath stuttering as your fist squeezed him just right, his hips jerking up into your touch.
“i’ve got her,” shoko murmured to gojo, her lips grazing your ear as she thrust her fingers deeper, her pace slow but deliberate. “she’s so tight, aren’t you, baby?”
you couldn’t form words, only broken moans slipping past your parted lips, drool glistening as it trailed down your chin, your jaw slack beneath the intensity of it all. shoko’s fingers curled deep inside you, pressing against that spot that made your thighs tremble violently, your entire body arching into her touch.
her thumb circled your clit in slow, deliberate motions—not too much, but just enough to have you writhing beneath her, the friction driving you higher with every slow roll of her hips against yours.
“look at you,” geto murmured, dark eyes fixed on the way you twisted between them, shoko’s hand buried up to her knuckles inside you.
without a word, he leaned in, catching the trail of drool with his lips, kissing gently along your jaw before letting his tongue brush over the corner of your mouth, warm and unhurried.
“you’re taking her so well,” he said softly, his breath fanning over your lips before pressing a kiss to the hinge of your jaw, his palm cupping your cheek tenderly.
shoko’s teeth scraped over your neck, biting gently before soothing the mark with her tongue, her fingers never faltering.
“i know you can give me one more,” she coaxed, her voice soft but firm, curling her fingers until you nearly sobbed into her shoulder. “come on, baby, let me feel you.”
your hips rocked into her hand on instinct, chasing the pressure as pleasure coiled tighter inside you, her fingers coaxing you toward the edge.
“she’s close,” gojo groaned, his cock twitching in your palm as his eyes dragged over your body, flushed and trembling beneath shoko’s touch.
his hand slid over yours, guiding your strokes as his breath stuttered, his hips jerking forward to chase your fist.
“let go for us,” shoko whispered, her tongue tracing the curve of your ear, and with one last slow curl of her fingers, the tension inside you snapped.
your body trembled violently, thighs clenching around her hand as your orgasm surged through you, knocking the breath from your lungs.
shoko kept going, fucking you through the aftershocks, her fingers stroking deeper to draw out every last shiver until you were limp against her chest.
“fuck,” gojo hissed through gritted teeth, his grip on your hand tightening as he spilled hot and thick against your fingers, painting your skin with a satisfied groan.
for a moment, the room was quiet, the only sounds the soft crackling of the fire and the heavy weight of your breathing.
you lay there, muscles lax and trembling, shoko’s fingers still lazily circling your clit as she pressed soft kisses against your shoulder, grounding you in the afterglow.
“you were perfect,” she murmured against your lips, smiling softly as she finally slipped her fingers free, slick and glistening with your release.
geto brushed his thumb along your jaw, tilting your face toward him as he kissed you, slow and deliberate, his touch warm and steady.
“happy new year,” shoko whispered, her forehead resting gently against yours, and you couldn’t help the quiet laugh that slipped out between heavy breaths.
“happy new year,” you echoed softly, sinking further into the warmth of their bodies against yours.
an. HAPPY NEW YEAR BELOVEDS 😼😽😸! what are some new years goals y’all have? one of mine is to grow my tumblr following n get better at posting more 🤞🏽
#✎ luna.writes#gojo smut#geto smut#shoko smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo x reader#geto x reader#shoko x reader#jjk x reader smut#jjk foursome#poly jjk smut#gojo satoru smut#geto suguru smut#ieiri shoko smut#anime smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru x reader#geto suguru x reader#ieiri shoko x reader#jjk x y/n#gojo x y/n#geto x y/n#shoko x y/n#jjk fanfiction#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jjk x reader#jjk#geto suguru
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
see a cheerleader, breed a cheerleader
pairing ↠ """nerd!"""jeno x (f) cheerleader!reader
genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, dubcon, oral (m receiving), male face sitting, face fucking, unprotected sex, blackmail, choking, hitting, virgin!reader
summary ↠ ever since forever, you have always gotten your way with people by whatever means necessary. a wink and a smile is all it takes to make a boy drop to your feet and worship you. no one told you to think that lee jeno would be any different. as it turns out, actions do have consequences.
wc ↠ 14.9k
a/n ↠ lowkey i think i subconsciously drew inspo from the fact that finals week made me consider both suicide and homicide. no jungwoo’s were hurt in the making of this fic. merry christmas! as always, feedback is appreciated!
don’t like it, don’t read.
▸ short, sweet, sometimes sticky
it was supposed to be like everybody else.
short, sweet, maybe sticky if you considered that one time you’d shaken that jisung boy’s sweat-coated hands and watched the pale of his face burn the same fierce rose as the lens he saw you through.
you’d laughed lightheartedly to spare him the embarrassment, telling him that everybody got a little sweaty every now and then, especially you. after all, cheerleading was more than skipping around and twirling. and at those words, you’d watched his eyes haze with the image of you damp with sweat, drenched head to toe.
hook, line, and sinker.
far too easy, exactly how you liked them. smart, easy, and utterly unable to resist you.
no one told you to expect something different from lee jeno. and why would you? he knew all the right answers, had some of the best marks, and practically lived in the library. he perfectly fit the bill of your standard victim.
which was why you had no qualms about approaching him in the library while he was typing away at his laptop, occasionally sipping from some kind of coffee.
as if he could sense he was in imminent danger and needed to evacuate immediately, jeno turned around before you could even make it completely to the table and saw you advancing on him with a pretty, practiced smile. “hi,” you greeted, waving at him. falling, your hands gripped the rear of the chair beside him. “is someone sitting here?”
jeno raised a brow at you, but shook his head. “no, no one’s sitting there.”
“perfect,” you replied, pulling out the chair and taking a seat. you turned so that you were facing him. “jeno, right?”
jeno nodded slowly, wondering where this was going. he got plenty girls, sure, but none ever approached him in the library. “that’s me,” he said, curious. “do i know you?”
“well, probably not,” you replied, giggling as if something was funny. “but, you know… i’m a cheerleader.”
jeno hummed. “are you now?”
you bobbed your head expectantly. “yeah, and i’ve heard about how smart you are. i’m impressed, to be honest. i mean, every time i’m in the library, i see you sitting here. i could never spend so much time here. you must have a lot of resolve to do something like that.”
“you think so?” jeno asked, pretending to be flattered just to see where you were leading him.
“i do. like, really do,” you replied, brushing your fingers against his forearm. “i just have so many other,” better, “things to do, you know. with cheer, i’m either practicing or resting so that i’ll have energy for practice. it’s really hard on me, you know?”
jeno stifled a chuckle and glanced back at his laptop screen. “you poor thing.”
your brows stitched. he wasn’t paying nearly enough attention to you. it was almost like he was uninterested. “and that’s why i was wondering if you could help me. i mean, you’re such a genius. you could probably do it in half the time it would take me,” you continued, lowering your hand onto his denim-clad thigh, and becoming surprised by how sturdy it felt.
jeno spared a fleeting glance at your hand on his left thigh before his eyes flitted to your face, watching you wink at him and throw him a smile. “let me get this straight,” he started, slowly caressing the back of your hand with his thumb as it sat on his thigh. “you want me to… do your work for you?”
“hey, your hard work wouldn’t go unrewarded,” you insisted, ignoring the unexpected motions of his thumb. “you’d have my attention. i mean, like i said, i don’t have a lot of time to give away. but i’m willing to spend some of it on you.”
jeno snickered, unable to help himself anymore. “are you this patronizing to everyone you meet?” he asked.
your eyes flickered. “p-patronizing?”
jeno smiled, patting your hand before setting it on your own thigh. “sorry, was that a big word for you? you know, when you think you’re too good for something, but you don’t want to say it, so you play sweet and act like you’re helping me, when really, it’s the other way around.”
switching on a dime, you narrowed your eyes at him. for such a pretty boy, he had quite the attitude. “i know what patronizing means. and right now, i think you’re the one being patronizing.”
“am i?” jeno asked, feigning obliviousness. “how’s it taste, cheerleader? doesn’t feel good, does it?”
your face was set in a scowl. sometimes it hurt you to play nice with people, and now was one of those times. “are you gonna help me or not?” you snapped.
“there it is,” jeno sang, chuckling to himself. he put his hand on your thigh now, squeezing the flesh gently. for now. “there’s the real you.”
you swallowed, glaring over at him with a hint of defiance despite the disgusting, foreign feeling rotting in your chest. it had never gone like this before. every situation predating this one had been somewhat predictable, to the point where you’d come to expect certain reactions. this was not that.
“i’ll help you,” jeno said after a pause.
you forced a smile. “great, so…”
jeno interjected, “on one condition.”
smile faltering, you trailed off, processing his words. now he was making some kind of deal with you? who in the hell did this man think he was?
“on one condition?” you echoed, as if you’d somehow misheard him. your brows scrunched in suspicion. “what condition?”
jeno grinned, the look on his face sly as hell and a stark contrast from the disgruntled glower on yours. “give me something in return,” was all he said, the tightening hold on your thigh giving away more than his words had.
you gawked, as if you were offended, and quickly swat at his hand. “i’m not having sex with you, you pervert!”
“sure, you’re not,” jeno answered with a chuckle, eyes twinkling with amusement. everything about you was alluring to him for mostly all the reasons unintended. “but you said i’d have your attention. i guess you think it’s not often a poor, busy nerd like myself gets anyone’s attention, yeah? but nerds get tired too, don’t they? they need to de-stress…”
“that’s not my problem,” you spat.
“you getting an F isn’t my problem, either,” jeno retorted, shrugging his shoulders. “so what it’s gonna be, cheerleader?”
something about this situation isn’t right to you. maybe it’s the lack of power you currently wielded over him, despite the fact that you had gotten used to having your way with academically competent boys like himself. if he weren’t taller than you and stronger than you, you’d resort to other, more familiar methods.
but jeno had changed the entire trajectory of this interaction for the worse, and now you had to determine whether or not it was beneath you to let him treat you as if you were some kind of object. you sulkily mulled it over, arms folded, trying to think of a way to maintain some semblance of power. “fine,” you finally replied, relenting. “but i’m not doing anything that requires me taking my clothes off.”
“you never seen a good porno, cheerleader?” jeno asked, a stupid, taunting smile blemishing his lips. “that cute little uniform of yours is the whole appeal to some people.”
“my name is…,” you huffed irritably, tired of being referred to by your title.
“frankly, cheerleader, i don’t care what your name is,” jeno told you with brutal honesty. “you’re the one that introduced yourself as a cheerleader, like that’s your whole personality or something. thinking it would make me fold. you can’t be stupid and demanding.”
you gaped, affronted by the sheer audacity of him to even utter those words to you, like you were some dumb bimbo. “i’m not stupid! i’m just too busy.”
“right. too busy,” jeno echoed, obviously none too convinced. “sorry for assuming.”
with a roll of your eyes, you stood up from the table chair, feeling utterly disrespected. “yeah, you should be,” you said, despite knowing his apology was completely inauthentic. “where’s your phone?”
jeno arched a brow and glanced over to his phone, sitting face down against the table on the other side of him. before he could even respond, you reached over him to grab it and pointed it at his face, unlocking it as if you’d done it a million times before.
then, you started typing away, all the while jeno watched you with an amused expression on his face. he had to admit, you were surely something. and though he found you entertaining, he couldn’t shake the thought that you desperately needed someone to put you in your place.
“reach me here,” you said after a moment, handing him his phone back. the screen was on his messages, a fresh contact with you. “pleasure doing business with you.”
with that, you walked away.
jeno shook his head, scoffing. who the hell did you think you were?
over the next few days or so, you met with jeno to better construct exactly what your expectations were pertaining to your work. or at least, those were the words he’d used. most of those limited encounters had ended with his hands sealing around your breasts.
you let it slide, deciding that a little over-the-clothes stuff was relatively harmless. after all, this was the busiest you’d been all year long, and you were far too exhausted when you got home to be burdened with stupid assignments and pesky discussion posts. the next two months, if not the next two weeks, were going to kill you if you didn’t have someone to carry at least half the workload on your behalf.
it was okay. jeno’s inability to keep his hands to himself was fine. it wasn’t like anybody was going to know, or that this arrangement would last long enough for them to find out. you would get to keep your dignity and your grades, without saving one at the expense of the other.
short, sweet, and sticky, remember? maybe the latter was simply manifesting in the way jeno’s hands were stuck to you. not that anything about him was sweet.
more like sacrifice.
▸ gilded age
“guess who just made the list of this week’s top ten trending sluts,” jennie said as she walked up beside you and roseanne.
roseanne perked up that, though she couldn’t help but mischievously quip, “you?”
jennie narrowed her eyes. “hoe, as if,” she spat. “i know how to keep my legs closed.”
you snickered. “god, what happened now?”
“a sex tape got leaked. hyeri, and apparently johnny.”
your nose scrunched, as if disgusted. “always knew she was a slut. i mean, you should have been there to see the way she acted around the jocks in high school. her eyes were practically screaming, ‘pick me, choose me, fuck me,’” you mocked.
roseanne burst into giggles, downing the rest of what was left in her red cup. “i don’t think that’s how that goes,” she chimed. “but johnny? is she crazy? i hope they didn’t do it raw. i heard rumors that he’s got the clap.”
“he sure clapped something, alright,” jennie retorted, much to your amusement. “it was definitely raw. hope it was worth the itch. you guys wanna see?”
“absolutely not,” you said, shaking your head vigorously. “i bet her parents would love to see it, though. on second thought, send me it.”
roseanne gawked. “are you serious?”
you bobbed your head, grinning deviously. “yeah. you guys have no idea what that bitch was like in high school. i tried teaching her a lesson, but she just never learned. it’s like the bitch is addicted to pain or something.”
jennie shook her head, pretending to disapprove, though she was intrigued to see how far you would your obvious loathing. “just sent it.”
your phone vibrated in your hand a few seconds later. you opened your instagram burner account, scrolling through your main’s following to find hyeri’s mother’s page, and dropped the video in her inbox. your sly giggle alerted your friends to your success and you dropped your phone in your pocket, satisfied.
“oh, you’re sick,” jennie insulted playfully, nudging your arm. “i wonder if she’ll say anything.”
you shrugged your shoulders, feigning nonchalance as if you weren’t excited to see how her mother would respond. “don’t know, but i’m more curious about if she’ll talk to hyeri about it. i’d love to be a fly on the myung’s wall when that happens.”
roseanne tapped your shoulder. “hey, don’t look now, but that jeno guy is staring you.”
your head whirled around, spotting jeno in his own corner of the party, indeed watching your every move as if he wanted to consume you and was waiting for the perfect moment to attack. which, if he was, would not be surprising.
roseanne sighed in annoyance. “i literally just said don’t look now.”
you turned back to face them, shaking your head. “don’t worry about that creep,” you replied, brushing it off. “he’s just begging to get in my pants. didn’t even know he went to parties.”
for whatever reason, jennie laughed. something about what you said tickled her, apparently. “um, yeah. that’s jeno for you, alright. he’s either partying with his friends or grinding in the library, no in between. perfectly balanced lifestyle, i have to admit it.”
your brows furrowed. that was news to you. and probably an important piece of information that you’d conveniently missed when narrowing down your targets. maybe you should have asked around about him more. you just didn’t think that someone who studied as hard as he did could also be the life of the party.
what was he doing here, anyway? shouldn’t he have been off doing your homework? useless fucking nerdy-not.
“do you guys know each other or something?” roseanne pressed, noticing the strange tension in the air despite the fact that you and jeno were feet apart. which was honestly admirable. “do you think you could get him to put me on with jungwoo?”
jennie’s laughter rang out again, only this time, it was much louder, and much more mocking. “please. jungwoo isn’t gonna touch any of us after how she broke his heart. you’d have better luck with jaehyun,” she sneered.
roseanne glared, a snarl on her face. “fuck jaehyun.”
“yeah, i bet you want to. i bet you’re still dreaming of that big, thick, meaty dick you wouldn’t shut up about, like, two months ago.”
“a lot can change in two months.”
“oh, it sure can,” jennie replied, humming. “it sure can.”
▸ takes two to tango
jeno: come over
you: no
jeno: that wasn’t a request
you: no where in our agreement does it say you get to boss me around
jeno: not even for an A?
you: that’s what your grabby hands are for
jeno: i don’t have to do this, you know. i can let you be a grown up and fiend for yourself like the rest of us
you: i’m otw, chill. jesus
the knock of your fist against jeno’s door was incessant, more than likely enough to exasperate his neighbors, given that it was particularly late at night and a good number of them had to have been sleeping.
jeno threw the door open with a scowl, obviously irritated. “you are so fucking annoying,” he hissed, dragging you inside and shutting the door behind you.
“ow!” you cried out, snatching your arm away. “stop that, i’m sore.”
jeno shook his head, his discontent frown disappearing in favor of an entertained, idiotic smile. “sore, huh? from doing what?”
you rolled your eyes. “if it isn’t obvious, i’m a cheerleader,” you reminded, gesturing down to your uniform. “meaning, i cheer.”
ignoring your snarky attitude, jeno glanced you up in down, taking in the sight of you in that tight, short cheer uniform that clung to you rather snugly. sweat still beaded at your damp legs and likely gathered between your breasts and down your back, as jeno was imagining. “yeah, you cheer. you won’t let me forget,” he said, amused.
“well, i’m busy,” you said, crossing your arms.
busy, my fucking ass, jeno thought to himself. “yeah, you won’t let me forget that, either. and yet, i saw you giggling with your friends at a party two weeks ago, looking completely fine. your poor, exhausted legs seemed to be working perfectly.”
“what, so i can’t have hobbies now?”
“sure, you can,” jeno replied, shrugging his shoulders. “i just have to ask, do you ever do anything productive with your time?”
“of course, i do,” you hissed, before quickly deflecting, “but we both know that’s not why you made me come all the way over here. so, what do you want?”
“your attention,” jeno said without missing a beat. his hands plopped against your bare shoulders and began wandering down your arms, rubbing them back and forth. “i’m in desperate need of a cheerleader’s sweet, precious attention.”
the disgruntled grimace on your face was the most effort you made to express your discomfort, not that he was looking there anyway. to him, at the moment, the sight of your body was much more appetizing. you watched with a repugnant burn simmering in your gaze as his eyes met your long, slender legs.
without warning, jeno grabbed you by your waist and hoisted you into the air, making you cry out in surprise. arms dangling around his neck, you held on for dear life, not an inch of your body feeling safe in his arms. you had been hauled further away from the ground by your cheermates, but this was different; no one wanted to fail, meaning no one would drop you. you had no reason to assume that jeno would handle you delicately.
but his burly arms, however, were not lost on you. though you hadn’t yet seen them in full power, your interactions mostly taking form of him forcing your back flush against the chiseled muscle of his chest as he kneaded yours, you could only imagine what the hands that groped you were capable of.
in a matter of seconds, you landed on your back against his sheets, another shrill screech escaping your throat. “jeno, what the hell?” you exclaimed.
“i’m not getting on my knees for you,” jeno said, the slyest of smiles tugging at his lips. “not unless it’s to fuck you. and you’re just too good to give it up, aren’t you?”
for him, definitely. and you would have said so, but your lips parted in a gasp, surprised and startled. something wet pushed along your sore legs, which were abruptly yanked to pillars far above your head so that they’d be more conveniently within reach of jeno’s tongue as he licked long, hot lines at them.
your eyes were rooted on him, fixed in a shape unlike their natural narrowed, black blaze and it would instead be more apt likening them to the fear and fret of a deer in crossed paths. wide, waiting, almost innocent. too used to circumstance to understand its fabric and too unfamiliar to chance to understand its fate.
unsatisfied, jeno bent your knee and pushed your leg further as he stood over the edge of his bed, and, in turn, over you, a grip on your ankles that you could feel in your bones. “jeno, that hurts,” you whined.
jeno didn’t understand why you were bitching. “but you’re a cheerleader,” he echoed. “aren’t you flexible?”
you writhed uncomfortably as he continued shamelessly, tongue even daring to twist against the bone underneath the bend of your knee, a sensation that itched more than you expected. his lips sealed around your skin, sucking and nibbling.
needless to say, it was unlike anything you had experienced before. “stop, that’s weird!”
“stop complaining,” jeno groaned, pushing your leg even harder. “it’s like all you ever do is complain about how hard your life is.”
your eyes stung now not only with loathing, but the threat of hot tears. it was stupid; it sounded dramatic, but you felt it was warranted when he was the one actively making your life harder. “you’re a fucking weirdo,” you snapped.
jeno heard it. the slight tremble in your voice despite the courage you’d been feigning. that was the sole reason he even bothered to look up at your face, the tears in them stealing his attention away in a heartbeat. he didn’t know whether to be amused or annoyed, or maybe even both. “god, now you’re crying,” he pointed out. “i haven’t even done anything to you. do you need me to give you a reason to cry?”
you shook your head. all you needed was to go home and recharge. you were beginning to doubt whether or not he was worth the trouble he carried with him in exchange for a grade that would keep your parents off your back, especially if he was going to make pulling stunts like this a regular habit.
the last thing you expected jeno to do was tug the bottom of your top past the shadow of your breasts, slackening the taut grip on your ankles in favor of your wrists as if he knew you would dare resist him, and burying his face between your chest. you exhaled shakily, mortified by the hot, wet feel of his tongue licking a stripe between your breasts, gathering leftover sweat on its tip.
and you did thrash. but you were getting a taste of that power now; a power that wasn’t your own, a power that you couldn’t reap. a power that grabbed you with its calloused fist with a might so strong you couldn’t move. and it was for the first time that you felt utterly weak. there had to be a word for something as unfathomable as that, but it was so foreign to you that you couldn’t think of it.
to make matters worse, jeno was taking his time, sucking bruises onto the skin of your chest in between his licking, as if he wanted to ensure there was no spot left untouched, no drop of sweat left behind. your face strained with discomfort, wanting more than anything to get away from him and this awful feeling rotting inside of your heart.
maybe your cries for mercy were heard, because no sooner had you hoped for an end than it came. “you can go now,” jeno said, pulling away. he pulled your shirt back down and smoothed out any wrinkles, which was almost kind of him.
even though you were more than eager to be rid of him, you lay there, dumbfounded. it was one thing to be violated, and it was another to be dismissed, but to happen in rapid succession of each other quickly bred some ugly emotion that was only festering.
jeno had expected you to scurry out of his bed, and out of his apartment, so the fact that you were still there bemused him. “what, do you want more?” he teased.
you shook your head, sitting up a little too quickly. your head started to feel lightheaded. you barked, “that isn’t what i agreed to!”
jeno had the audacity to laugh. like you had told a joke of some kind. “isn’t it? your clothes are still technically on. that was what you agreed to. remember?”
you dropped to your feet, pushing past him. “you’re disgusting,” was all you said, making a beeline for the door.
“takes two to tango, baby,” jeno called after you, simpering.
you didn’t look back. you couldn’t. there was an unpleasant stir in your gut - not as easily distinguishable as the loathing - unlike anything you had ever felt and you desperately wanted it to go away, to rid of yourself of anything that even remotely resembled lee jeno.
▸ chess, not checkers
deep, low grunts smacked against the walls and bounced back with almost the same amount of vigor of jeno’s quick, unrelenting hips, the sound nearly as hard and heavy as he was. the only thing rivaling the tightness of the hole he was using was the wince of his closed eyes and the grip of his strong hands.
jeno didn’t want to see. it would be too blatantly obvious that she wasn’t you, and that it wasn’t your blemished hips he was holding. though she sounded nothing like you. he knew that you would have been so much whinier, and despite finding them painfully obnoxious, he found himself longing to hear all your worthless, melodramatic complaints.
instead, he heard soft moans mingling with his own labored sounds as his hips moved with a mind of their own, imagining it was you underneath him where you truly belonged.
the image stained the back of his eyelids, burned behind them every time he closed his eyes; the shortness of your pleated skirt scrunched around your hips, weak legs on his broad shoulders with nicks and bruises scattered here and there, arms swinging aimlessly.
and if he got tired of hearing you, he could simply press his palm squarely against your mouth, muting the sound of your incessant fussing. if he really wanted to put you in your place, he could clasp his hands around your throat and clamp down onto your windpipe till all that escaped you was a pitiful, featherlight squeak.
jeno could tell no one had ever properly put you in your place before, no one had ever stood up to you and reminded you of your level. you were in desperate need of a humbling and didn’t even know it yourself. no one better than jeno for the role, he figured. a little cheerleader parading around in a uniform to feel different from everybody else she met didn’t scare him whatsoever.
the only thing saving you was essentially the fact that you were undeniably pretty and not necessarily to blame for the school’s superficial culture, which elevated girls like you in terms of status despite it having no real meaning or manifestations outside of campus, and put you on top when you were within the bubble.
but outside the bubble, away from the boys who thought of you as this beautiful, unattainable poison and the girls who enabled you with a faux sense of togetherness, you had no real identity, no real power, and no real worth.
and yet, maybe jeno was contributing to the problem. maybe he had inadvertently become one of the people elevating you. because choking in the heat of the moment, he uttered your name, forgetting who he was with and where he was.
hands shoved at him, hard. at least, hard enough for him to be jolted out of his reverie, finally gazing into the eyes that seethed because of him. “did you just call me that evil witch’s name?” seoa barked.
jeno winced. that was a fair reaction, all things considered. he wouldn’t have wanted to have been called your name out of everyone’s, either. he rubbed his nape. “well…”
“unbelievable,” seoa replied, scoffing. she got out of the bed and hurriedly began picking her clothes up from the floor, redressing herself.
jeno exhaled a breath, mostly annoyed that his orgasm had been ruined, but still feeling a hint of sympathy. “seoa, wait,” he said, touching her shoulder.
seoa recoiled, pulling away. jeno had never seen anyone be so ready to put on their pants after being with him, not even with a hell of a schedule after. “never touch me again,” she spat, walking out with her shoes in tow. “fuck you.”
jeno ran a hand through his hair, watching her leave, and murmured under his breath, “god dammit.”
a few days later, while they were attending a festival, jaemin marched over to jeno, draping an arm over his shoulder, and asked, “wanna tell me why seoa blocked all of us and she’s been glaring at me and mark since she got here?”
jeno snickered, shaking his head in slight disbelief. he was over it by now, he figured she would be too. “i let a certain cheerleader’s name slip while i was balls deep inside her,” he confessed. which he wasn’t necessarily proud of, considering the only reason he even knew your name was because you’d saved your own contact on his phone.
jaemin’s brows furrowed, glancing around as if he was trying to spot you in the crowd like a heat-seeking missle. “who?”
rolling his eyes, jeno grabbed the back of jaemin’s head with one hand and turned it in your general direction, hoping it would help. and jeno knew it had when jaemin’s confusion melted into disgust.
“oh, that bitch?” he asked, nose wrinkled.
jeno chuckled, releasing his friend’s head. “she’s a bitch, but she’s pretty.”
jaemin couldn’t argue with that fact even if he’d wanted to. “yeah, i’ll give her that. cute in the face. she’s fake as hell, though. played jungwoo like a fiddle. he did six months worth of her homework because she promised they’d get together.”
that was news to jeno. he knew you were cruel, having had stories from jisung and the like, but he never knew of your history with jungwoo. if it could be called that. “did they fuck?” he couldn’t help but ask.
jaemin shook his head, taking a sip from the bottle in his hand before he answered, “he said she always turned him down. told him she was waiting for ‘the perfect moment.’”
now that was funny as hell. jeno had only known you for a few weeks and yet even he quickly pieced together that you weren’t the romantic type. “well, that’s fucked up,” he said, happily accepting yet another reason to dislike you. “but he’s dumb as fuck if he did her homework for six months without getting a crumb of pussy in return.”
jaemin made a face, nodding. “yeah,” he exhaled, giving the impression that he’d wanted to defend jungwoo. “but man, what possessed you to say her name while fucking the seoa? i need a good excuse. you just blew my shot with her.”
jeno shrugged. “don’t have one. she approached me maybe three weeks ago asking me to do her homework, and i agreed.”
jaemin gawked. that didn’t sound like jeno. like at all. “man, what? is she paying you?”
“oh, dividends,” jeno quipped.
“oh, and in what? pussy?”
“nope.”
jaemin looked horrified. he was so damn dramatic. “then, why the hell are you doing her bidding? that doesn’t sound like you.”
it didn’t, not immediately, but jeno had his reasons. “entertainment purposes,” he replied curtly.
jaemin shook his head, taking another swig of his drink. certainly, he was drinking, not smoking. “you’re becoming her pawn for entertainment purposes? unbelievable, bro.”
“chess, not checkers, jaem.” jeno smirked, putting a hand on jaemin’s shoulder. “you’ll see.”
▸ things good guys do
“you’re lucky i was already out,” jeno told you when you let him into your apartment. “it’s the middle of the night for fuck’s sake. what do you want?”
“oh, please,” you spat, damn near rolling your eyes. your arms were folded. “you get to call me over at the ungodly hour, but when i do it, it’s a problem?”
jeno exhaled through his nose and ran a hand through his hair, wondering why he bothered to come here when he had no obligation to do your bidding, as jaemin had put it. but something told him that he wouldn’t have any regrets. “yeah, it is. now, what do you want?”
you were silent for a few moments, somewhat ashamed of the request you would ultimately make. you sighed, surrendering. “i need help with calculus,” you finally said.
jeno’s shoulders drooped, eyes shrinking in a contemptuous disbelief. “seriously?”
“seriously,” you repeated, sitting down on your couch as your laptop screen glared back at you from the coffee table.
jeno groaned, “i seriously don’t know how you even got into this school. can’t you do anything by yourself?”
you gawked, affronted. he made you sound like some incompetent, immature dickhead. “contrary to a weirdly popular belief, i’m actually really smart,” you insisted, having the transcripts to prove it. “but my professor sucks and i need an eighty-nine on my final to keep my A. and it’s not like you can walk in and take it for me because it’s proctored.”
jeno shook his head and reminded, “you know this little agreement we have doesn’t include me tutoring you, right?”
“it didn’t include you assaulting me, either,” you retorted.
“you think that was assault?” jeno asked, scoffing. he dropped beside you on your couch, the proximity instinctively making you suck in a breath. “if i wasn’t a good guy, i’d show you assault.”
scooting over to ensure maximum distance between your bodies, you argued, “good guys don’t call themselves good guys.”
“good guys have self-control,” jeno replied matter-of-factly, resisting a chuckle. he didn’t make a move to touch you, but he noticed how tense you looked now that he was sitting beside you. “i’ll tutor you, but we’ll have to up the terms of our agreement.”
you swallowed sharply, throat bobbing. you had a feeling you weren’t going to enjoy these new terms. “what do you want?”
“a blowjob.”
“that’s disgusting,” you spat without a second thought, features contorting with repugnance.
jeno quipped, “and so is your inability to do your school work without using and depending on every intelligent boy you meet, but hey, i’m sure you can’t help that.”
you sighed, exasperated, and cradled your face in your hands. was this seriously what your life had come to? giving a boy a blowjob in exchange for a pretty transcript?
jeno grinned, appreciating the sight of you in distress. it was a sign, a good sign, and he intended to bring it out of you more and more, bleeding you absolutely dry. lowering a hand onto your thigh, he urged, “come on, bruise those little knees for me. don’t you bruise ‘em for cheer?”
“that’s not the same!” you whined.
“of course, it’s not,” jeno said, squeezing your thigh as his shoulders trembled with laughter. “cheer isn’t helping you graduate with flying colors.”
you desperately wanted him to be wrong, you were begging for him to be wrong, but you both knew that if he was, he wouldn’t have been here with you at the moment. not now, not three weeks ago, not ever. so you sucked it up, slamming down your laptop lid, and grumbled, “fine.”
maybe he didn’t come here for nothing, after all. grateful he’d trusted his gut, jeno stood up and clutched your arm to pull you along with him. “come on, let’s go to your room. i like my blowjobs a little messy and i’m sure you don’t want to mess up your nice carpet.”
you snatched your arm away from him, hating his insistence on touching you for every little reason whenever he possibly could, even if it was insignificant. your mouth was taut as you begrudgingly headed for your bedroom.
it was obvious that you were sour. walking behind you, jeno couldn’t help but chime, “glad to see that you can at least walk by yourself!”
you bristled in annoyance, wishing you could just get rid of him, but you knew it wouldn’t be wise to discard him so quickly. at least for now, he still held some kind of value.
jeno walked in behind you, looking particularly radiant, and you hated that you knew why. hell, you hated the reason itself. “get on your knees,” he commanded.
normally, you would complain about him giving you orders as if you were his lap dog or something, but you just wanted to get this over with. you were already so over this entire week. you slowly dropped to your knees, trying to ignore how demeaning it felt.
“good girl,” jeno praised at your compliance. “now, look up at me with those pretty eyes and ask me to help you with calc. ask me nicely.”
you met his eyes, noticing the expectant glimmer in his gaze that you so badly wanted to knock off. but you weren’t dumb enough to incite violence against a grown man that walked around with his bulging muscles on display for all the world to see, and you didn’t doubt that he would hit you back. “jeno, please help me with calculus,” you pleaded, choosing your battles.
jeno hummed, satisfied. “you sound so pretty and sweet when you ask nicely, instead of demanding things. didn’t know you were capable of that,” he told you, running his fingers through your hair. “take it out. get me hard.”
your hands moved to his sweatpants, tugging at them enough to bring them down just shy of his knees, and doing the same with his underwear. he wasn’t hard yet, but that would be an easy fix; witnessing your state of pure anguish, watching you speak and move as if you were totally dejected, always excited him.
not to mention that the sight of you on your knees for him, the more he took it in, was arousing him even more than he thought it would. he had pictured it in his mind before, you serving him, pleasuring him, existing solely for him, but nothing could compare to the sight he beheld now.
at least, nothing other than you actually doing something rather than sitting there like an idiot. he liked taking control, but he figured you would take matters into your own hands, literally, when he gave the order. “do you need me to tell you what to do or something?” he asked, huffing irritably. “put your tongue on it. tease the head.”
your face and ears burned in ways they rarely did, but you nodded wordlessly and did as told, bracing your hands on his thighs and reluctantly pressing your tongue onto his tip, looking anywhere but his eyes as the muscle swirled around.
that amused jeno to no end. at least for now, he would let it slide, not feeling the need to maintain eye contact with you at the moment. if he needed to, he would simply just grab a nice, thick fistful of your hair and yank it back to jolt your head up at him. he could still see your pretty, bare face, hair arranged messily at the top of your head with a few needless strands jutting out here and there.
he liked that. of course, he would have been more than enthusiastic to have you suck him off if you’d been all dolled up, making you ruin your makeup and undo at least an hour of careful, clean work, but he also just took pleasure in seeing this natural, undone part of you. he wanted to see you for what you really were.
it didn’t take long for him to get hard. with all his thoughts revolving around you and the feel of your tongue on the head of his dick, that was a no-brainer. “good, now put it in your mouth. take as much as you can and not an inch less,” jeno instructed.
widening your mouth, you accepted his stout, heavy cock into your mouth, lips forming a tight suction around the head and steadily advancing down his shaft. bit by bit, inch by nightmarishly thick inch. you had made it maybe halfway down his shaft when you quickly discovered your limit.
jeno was surprisingly content, despite the fact that you definitely still had a few more inches to go. “there you go,” he said, giving your head a soft pat of approval. “suck. go slow. and don’t you dare let me feel any teeth.”
your heart was thumping out of something you could only understand as fear, even though jeno hadn’t done anything to warrant it yet. inhaling through your nose, you tried to level your breathing, taking your time to draw in his cock lest you made a mistake. the hint of warning in jeno’s voice, in spite of the calmness, was clear.
jeno, on the other hand, was reaching elysian heights. faint grunts of, “fuck,” escaped his pink lips, large hands at his sides reflexively tensing into tightly clenched fists in need of something to grab, hips just barely stuttering. your mouth was hot and wet, with the added benefit of your torturous tongue pressed against his size.
there was a pinch of desperacy in your actions that overcame the resistance; a desperacy not necessarily to please him, but to appease him. accidents were the last thing you could afford and eliciting his frustration was the last thing you wanted.
“lick,” jeno said, chest undulating. “up and down.”
with a hum, you started drawing long, wet lines back and forth on his veiny shaft, almost as if you were tracing the bold veins with your tongue. jeno’s reaction was instantaneous, deep groans the only thing you could hear other than the wet sound of your mouth on his cock, sucking and licking.
jeno’s eyes fluttered closed. “fuck. yeah, like that.”
you pressed your tongue against the underside of his dick, lingering in each spot for a moment before you continued, mostly because he seemed to like it when you did. which was your north star in an empty, dead night, because you had not a clue what the hell you were doing and you were afraid of making it obvious somehow.
if jeno could tell, he didn’t make it known. he was in a world of his own, all too happily reaping the pleasure from your mouth as if it was a dream come true for him. “kiss my balls. lick it.”
you stifled the sigh you were half tempted to let loose, pulling off his cock with a wet sound and a string of saliva connecting from the sticky tip to your glossy lips. moving your head, you took a moment to steel yourself before peppering tiny, soft kisses along his balls, down to his scrotum.
it wasn’t the most dignifying thing you had ever done, it may have even been the least, but your aching, sore jaw appreciated the break from sucking. you dragged your tongue over his testicles, tasting nothing but rubbery flesh. you were too busy avoiding his eyes to notice, but his face was tensing with pleasure, lips parting in low murmurs.
compared to when you first started, jeno was drastically harder now, massive, monstrous cock nearly bursting at the veins with precum leaking out from the thick tip. had your goal been to take all of him entirely, the sheer size of him would have immediately overwhelmed you.
“switch to your hand and go back to sucking me off,” jeno said, firm yet quiet. it sounded like he was trying to restrain himself, barely holding it together.
at least you were a fast learner. teasing the head of his cock, you gave it a few slow, tentative licks before you began to take him into your mouth again, all the while gently fondling his balls with your fingers. jeno groaned, arching into your touch. he couldn’t help himself.
you could taste the vicious amount of precum staining your tongue and you didn’t know how to describe it, other than slightly tart. the flavor blended with that of your own saliva, lingering on the roof of your mouth and the warm flesh underneath the flap of your tongue, mild as could be.
at least it wasn’t downright awful. you had heard stories before, not that you’d ever known what to make of them, or even pictured yourself being inside of them. if a month ago, someone had told you that you’d be on your knees for a man - for anyone - you would have said they were delusional.
jeno’s patience had worn thin and when you least expected it, he hauled you into the air, making you cry out in surprise just as you had the first time he’d lifted you into his buff, meaty arms. he tossed you onto the bed, just shy of the headboard, and suddenly straddled your chest. you gasped out a breath.
“open up,” jeno said, cock positioned right in front of your mouth.
not that he gave you the time to obey him, because he pressed himself against your slightly parted lips and forced them wider, entering your mouth on his own. your face strained, perfectly threaded brows tugging down into a discontented arch.
when you tried to pull away, jeno grabbed the sides of your face and pushed you onto his shaft with trembling hands, making you take him and leaving no room for escape, not until he decided he was done with you. there was only one concern present in his mind and that was getting himself off.
tears stung your eyes, that same implacable feeling you had when he’d dragged his tongue over the expanse of your soft, shaved legs and bare, sweaty chest finding you again in the most of unwanted company. jeno scoffed, spitefully tugging at your hair. “you know what’s funny? you’re such a fucking crybaby. you can’t take even half of what you give to others.”
chin flush against his scrotum and your nose not even an inch away from his bush, you almost gagged. the slurping sounds were humiliating, loud, wet squelching with every other big gulp making you want to shrink. however, jeno loved it, obsessing over the idea of making a mess out of you. the sound went straight to his dick.
jeno held your face in that low position, deeper than you’d ever taken him so far. “i’m really not that bad of a guy, you know,” jeno said, sounding like he truly believed it. you could have scoffed, if not for obvious reasons. “you just bring it out of me. i’m really just treating you like how you treat everybody else.”
he made you sound like something straight out of hell and you couldn’t help but think it was an unfair justification for something that felt too close to punishment. he obviously thought he knew you better than he did and it made you aggravated. that, or he somehow thought he was better than you.
there was a fleeting second of relief when jeno unmounted your chest and let you breathe, only to be crushed again when he dragged you by your wrists to the edge of your mattress, leaving you in the deep end. your eyes struggled to grasp with the flipped image of him nearing you, cock back down your throat before you could even blink.
though his hips thankfully had been moving at a calmer, steady pace before, despite forcing himself deeper than you could handle, he began to thrust more urgently into your mouth with the new change, embedding himself even further into your throat than you knew was possible.
you cried harder, hating every second of it. the salty, bitter tang of your tears mingled with the tainted taste of spit and sharp bite of precum that had come to stain your chin and cupid’s bow. the vigor of his movements was overwhelming, overpowering.
“that’s it, cheerleader. cry harder,” jeno taunted, tracing his thumb over your face to swipe at the trail of tears. all the while his hips were moving faster, harder.
it felt like such a mockery, him doing that. a feigned act of sympathy while perpetuating the torment that was reducing you to tears as a selfish means of achieving pleasure of his own.
then, his hands wandered down to your breasts, slipping inside your night shirt and mauling your chest. running his hands in a circle, his thumb brushed the erect, colored nipples and he clasped his hands around your chest, squeezing your breasts. “fuck, i’m close,” he grunted, grip tightening, pace hastening, force increasing.
with how close he was, your nose was squarely against his the flesh of his balls, effectively cutting off your exhale. your heart thudded, racing and pounding. tensing with panic, your hands frantically moved, striking at his navel and thighs. even your legs were in alarm, unstill towards the other end of the bed.
jeno groaned, smacking your cheek. another slap followed the sizzle, straight against your chest. “calm the fuck down,” he hissed, raising his arm in preparation to hit you again. “i’ll let you breathe as soon as i come, so you better not get in the way, if you know what’s good for you.”
even if you wanted to, you couldn’t stay calm. your body physically couldn’t handle it, responding the only way it knew how, trying to protect you. somebody had to. you closed your eyes, face warm with tears and panic, and you tried to brace your hands on the sheets, anything to comfort and stabilize yourself.
it got to a point where jeno couldn’t hold back anymore and he climaxed with a prolonged, guttural groan, hips still brutally smacking into your mouth as he painted your tongue and the back of your throat with his cum. he went as far as to grab your head again, forcing himself onto you as deep as he could go, and demanding, “swallow it.”
like hell you would. you pushed him away, coughing and choking as soon as you did, drops of cum pooling from your mouth and some of it flying here and there in the midst of your coughing fit.
irritated, jeno pressed his tongue against the roof his mouth. “you’re so fucking useless,” he groaned, grabbing his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants and quickly turning on the camera. “look at you. sitting here choking on my cum. you want it again, don’t you?”
you sat up, nearly tumbling over the edge of your bed from the intense convulsing, and turned to face the other way as you hunched over, tightly clasping your sheets. “fuck off, you got what you wanted!” you rasped.
jeno laughed. you sounded so gravelly. “you’re right. i did,” he replied, putting back on his pants and pocketing his phone. “so, tutoring. i’ll see you tomorrow. nighty night, cheerleader.”
he gave you a pat on the head and turned, heading straight for the door.
▸ hard feelings
something about today was different than usual.
when you woke up, you had felt a shift in the air, but you’d chalked it up to being nervous about the final you had in three hours.
but when you finally went to go take it, however, you quickly realized that the unsettling feeling you had was not simply pre-exam jitters. it was something much more sinister than that. with the status you held on campus, you were used to being watched and gawked at, but this was different.
it felt like everybody and their mother was looking at you.
you were confused. you had been the subject of this much attention before, but only once; it was a couple years back when someone had spread a dirty, foul rumor about you. there was a social media page for your school called top ten, mostly used to shame women for their sexual exploits, but some men made their way on it too. that was how you heard about johnny’s clap rumor.
long story short, a rumor about you had originated there and it had taken you weeks to clear your name. but by that time, there was already another slut of the week. you were lucky to have your situation not only be false and debunked, but word of mouth. only the most unlucky of people, like hyeri, got images or videos of themselves posted.
and you were a community favorite. you would understand if you were new, but you had built a reputation around here. why would anybody believe floating rumors about you now?
but the abundance of stares didn’t end there. even in the cafe, you had caught someone watching you a little too hard to be a casual leer of admiration. and you were determined to find out why.
fortunately, you were able to find jennie and roseanne walking and talking in the courtyard, and you called out their names to stop them.
jennie turned first, and you watched her smile drop in real time. she glanced around, frantic, as if she was worried about someone watching her too.
roseanne smiled thinly, halfheartedly lifting her hand to wave. “hey,” she greeted quietly, matching jennie’s nerves.
they knew something you didn’t and it was glaringly obvious. “what’s going on?” you asked. “everyone’s looking at me and i know i’m not going crazy yet.”
jennie and roseanne glanced between each other, as if they both had bad news but neither of them wanted to be the one to tell you. after a few seconds, jennie groaned and said, “you might want to check top ten.”
your brows furrowed. you, on top ten? again? god, people could be so infuriating. “ugh, what rumor did they spread about me this time?”
jennie winced, which only made you more anxious. “it’s not just a rumor,” she whispered. “…it’s a video.”
“video?” you echoed in disbelief. that didn’t make sense. you hadn’t been with anyone except…except jeno. you tensed with anger.
roseanne opened her phone to show you the video that had been posted. it was an anonymous submission that claimed to be a recording of you. unfortunately, it was you, bits of your chest exposed from jeno reaching into your shirt and drops of cum landing there as you fought for breath. your face wasn’t visible, but there were some other distinguishing signs, like your hair and skin and sheets.
your heart thudded and your shoulders went cold, but your eyes were scalding. you were well aware that jeno didn’t like you, you didn’t exactly love him either, but you never thought he would stoop low enough to hurt you like this.
“i’m sorry,” roseanne apologized, dropping her phone in her purse when you were done. the video was only a few seconds long, but the damage was forever. “but don’t worry. it’s not like it’s top three worthy. everyone will move on next week.”
jennie nodded in agreement and briefly patted your back. “yeah. we’ll hang out again when this all blows over, i promise.”
then, they walked away. leaving you reeling with ache and betrayal. your friends didn’t want to be seen with you anymore. you were an embarrassment.
you swallowed the bitter feeling scorching up your throat and tapped your pockets for your phone, knowing there was one person you needed to see.
you: you and i need to talk. right now.
jeno: about what?
you: don’t play dumb, i know you sent that video in!
jeno: maybe u should have swallowed
you: you know what, i don’t need you. i never have. and i don’t want your help anymore. just leave me alone
jeno: [one attachment]
jeno: you sure about that? because i’m sure there’s plenty of people that would love to see the version with your face in it
you gawked, hiding your phone screen against your chest while glancing around to make sure no one could see.
adjusting your brightness, you unlocked your phone again and texted him back hurriedly.
you: why are you doing this?! i’ve never done anything to you
jeno: this is bigger than just you and me
jeno: now if you don’t want everyone to see that pretty face, come put those lips around me again and we can work something out
and that was how it started. though you hadn’t had the upper hand in weeks, this was the moment you completely lost it. what was once an arrangement for him to help you in exchange for your attention became a hole of misery that you couldn’t dig yourself out of.
one blowjob became two, and two became three until you started to immediately recognize what it meant when you saw his name appear on your screen, knowing what it was before he even asked. not that he ever technically asked. it was always a command, a claim to your body wherever and whenever he wanted.
if you tried to be strong, if you tried to break free of him, he always threatened to make sure that recordings of you on your knees for him went up for all the world to see and no one would ever think of you the same way again. he was more than willing to taint the pretty, perfect image of yourself that you presented to the world.
you felt stuck, trapped. isolated with nowhere to go, no way out. you tried to conjure up a way to escape this situation, but you couldn’t think of anything feasible. if you wanted to protect what was left of your social life and dignity, if you wanted to go outside without being ashamed, your only option was to be compliant.
no matter how many late nights and sore throats you had to go through.
you were in the middle of dozing off, your head leaning off to the side, when the sound of your phone ringing suddenly jolted you awake. you were tempted to ignore it until you saw the contact and begrudgingly pressed the phone to your ear. “hello?” you grumbled.
“i’ve been texting you,” jeno said, sounding miffed.
you sighed, glancing over at the clock on your nightstand. “it’s literally two in the morning,” you complained. “i just got home from cheer practice and i’m trying to study for my last final. i haven’t even showered yet.”
“aw, poor thing,” jeno crooned, pretending to care. “come over.”
you heartless, selfish bastard, you snapped in your head. of course, you were in no place to say that out loud, so you settled for a calm, “okay,” and hung up.
stifling a yawn, you grabbed your keys and lazily stepped into a nearby pair of shoes, stretching your arms above your head before willing yourself to get up from your desk chair. then, you accidentally scraped your leg against the bottom drawer of your desk, which you’d accidentally left open.
“ow!” you cried out, bending down a little. “god, why does this world hate me? what did i do wrong?”
it was a wonder you managed to make it to jeno’s apartment without getting into a wreck, although at this point, you wouldn’t care if you had as long as it killed you. or put you into an indefinite coma.
on the other hand, jeno seemed strangely enthusiastic to see you and looked full of life and energy. “there you are, cheerleader,” he said, pulling you in to hug you from behind. he led you over to his couch, much like he always did.
you covered your mouth with your elbow as you yawned. “can we get this over with? i’m sleepy.”
jeno chuckled. “i don’t want you to suck me off. not right now.”
your brows furrowed, wondering if you had heard him right. if not for that, then why were the hell were you here?
“i’m sad,” jeno said, not even attempting to keep the smug smile off his face. “i need you to cheer me up.”
you blinked at him like he was stupid. “cheer… you up?”
jeno nodded his head, glancing you over with a grin. you looked like hell. partly because you were so obviously exhausted, but he knew he’d been having an effect on you too. “yeah, cheer me up. you’re a cheerleader,” he reminded, sounding proud of himself. “i want you to do your routine for me.”
you gawked in disbelief and whined, “i’m not even in my uniform.”
“so?” jeno asked. “those bones might be tired, but they still work. matter of fact, take everything off.”
you were quick to exclaim, “what the hell? jeno, can i please just do it later? everything hurts.”
“take everything off,” jeno repeated, his voice more stern this time. “and move your ass.”
defeated, you reluctantly began to peel off your clothes, ignoring the way jeno shamelessly ogled you for the sake of your own comfort and tugging your shirt from above your head. you couldn’t even look at him as you abashedly stepped out of your shorts and panties.
what was even more mortifying was having to perform every stupid little routine for him with your entire body on display and your chest bouncing with every motion. putting on the sweet, forced smile and calling out the chants you’d memorized, all the while ignoring how your bones ached.
when you were done, he made you sit in his lap so he could touch you as he pleased, paying no mind to the way you squirmed uncomfortably.
you cried enough tears to occupy a sixth ocean the next day. you weren’t exactly sure why. you just remembered miraculously waking up in your bed, sitting up and staring into empty space, and the water crashing down after a few minutes. it took you even longer to notice you were sobbing.
after a couple of meaningless hours, you got the random urge to call your moan, yearning to hear her voice. “mommy?” you said when she picked up.
“she calls,” your mother chirped, pleasantly surprised. “hi, baby. i was starting to wonder if you’d forgotten about little ole’ me. you know, you never come see me anymore.”
you forced yourself to laugh, trying to strip your voice of the agony so that she wouldn’t notice. “i know. i’m sorry,” you apologized quietly. “i’ll come see you soon.”
“you better,” your mother snapped playfully, no real malice in her voice. “now, what’d you call me for? and don’t say just to check up on me, because that’s a damn lie.”
“i miss you,” you confessed.
“a lie don’t care who tell it.”
“ma,” you groaned, knowing she was just messing around. “i swear i do.”
“mm-hm,” your mother hummed. you could already picture her in your head, eyeing you with suspicion, arms folded over her chest. “let me guess why you really called. you’re having boy trouble.”
your eyes flickered in surprise. how did she know? you doubted it was exactly what she was thinking, but she was close enough. “yeah, something like that.”
there was no doubt that your mother sounded excited. you had always seem thoroughly uninterested in boys and dating, and while she was thankful when you were a teenager, it was a little worrying now. “it’s about time,” she said, clasping her hands together. “tell me all about it.”
you sighed, wondering how you could tell her about jeno without making her fret. she had gotten all pumped, you didn’t want to tear her down and ruin everything. “well, there’s this guy i met almost two months ago. at first, i didn’t feel anything for him. he was just another boy, you know. someone i could keep around for a good time, not a long one.”
your mother hummed again. you could hear metal pans clacking against her counter and assumed she was cooking. she always did that.
taking a deep breath, you continued, “but everything changed. he’s different from every other guy i’ve dealt with. he doesn’t just do what i say because i say so. and as the weeks passed, he’s started listening to me less and less than he already was.”
your mother chuckled. “and you didn’t like that, huh? got your mother’s stubborn heart and indomitable spirit.”
in truth, you didn’t think you had half of your mother’s strength, but you would never tell her that. as far as she knew, everything was going perfectly in the life you’d created here on campus. and it probably was the last time you’d spoken to her. “yeah,” you replied, wishing that were true. “i don’t like it. he makes me feel something i’ve never felt before.”
“he makes you feel powerless,” your mother told you. “he’s got you feeling weak because he’s the first man you’ve ever met willing to stand up to you. trust me, i was surprised the first time too. that’s how you got here.”
“ma,” you groaned with a wince.
she laughed. the sound made you happy, something you hadn’t been so certain you were capable of feeling anymore. “i’m just keeping it real.”
you thought about her words. she may have been way off in her perception of what this relationship between you and jeno really was, but she wasn’t wrong about how he made you feel. weak, powerless. suddenly, this consuming feeling you’d been having for weeks finally had a name, and yet that made it even harder to come to terms with.
because you didn’t want to be powerless. you wanted to be in charge, in control. you hated when things didn’t go your way, and more importantly, you hated when there was nothing you could do about it. it was supposed to be you wielding power over people’s head, not being crushed beneath the weight of tyranny.
and it was then you fully realized the scope of your feelings; you absolutely hated lee jeno.
▸ cheerleader? breed her!
standing there in a skimpy dress, face done and your feet clamped in heels that made you four inches taller, you didn’t feel like yourself.
you thought that you would. in truth, you hadn’t feel like yourself in months. today marked a little over two months since you made the mistake of beginning that agreement with jeno and you regretted it more than anything. he had completely ruined you, your life, and everything that made you feel whole.
there were pieces of yourself that you would never get back, thanks to him. it was true that everyone had forgotten about the ordeal regarding the recording of you, but not without cost. it was a price you were still paying everyday; even when you weren’t on your knees or otherwise commiting demeaning acts for the sake of jeno’s entertainment, you were hurting and mourning yourself.
you were starting to wonder if it was worth it. obviously, you liked being respected amongst your fellow students, but you were no longer certain if their respect was worth the price of your sanity. it was hard for you to even have basic interactions without giving away how incredibly lonely and isolated you felt, how trapped and doomed you were. helpless and powerless.
jeno came up behind you, startling you. he was like a wolf and you were a little lamb masquerading as a wolf. “there you are, baby,” he said, snaking his hands around your waist. he seemed to love doing that. “did you know our anniversary was a few days ago?”
you scoffed. the two-month anniversary of the worst decision of your life to date. there was nothing you would’ve give to undo it. doing your homework yourself would have spared you so much unnecessary pain. “stop doing that,” you whined, scanning the party. “someone will see.”
jeno chuckled, clearly not giving a damn. “unlike someone, i don’t really care what people think about me.”
you wished you didn’t care. there would always be a part of you that cared, that was so afraid of what people could say about her that she would do anything to tailor her image perfectly. matter of fact, it was all you had cared about in high school, and every year after that was spent maintaining the brand.
jeno’s hand went from your waist to your ass, making you tense in his grasp. “you know, i think i deserve some kind of compensation for putting up with you for two months.”
you deserved that too. freedom. being unshackled from his cruel, unrelenting orders was the one thing you wanted most and the one thing he refused to give you. “don’t you have your compensation almost every day?” you asked irritably.
“that’s not nearly enough,” jeno insisted, squeezing your ass.
god, how greedy could someone be? it was like he wanted to bleed you dry until there was nothing left.
“you know what i want?” jeno asked huskily, leaning into your ear. “i wanna fuck you.”
your eyes widened a little. you had hoped this day would never come, even though you weren’t oblivious to the fact that jeno had steadily gotten bolder in his interactions with you, the things he made you do for his satisfaction becoming entirely more erotic.
grabbing your arm, jeno started to lead you away. “come on, let’s go.”
you rooted in place, nearly stumbling. you didn’t want to go anywhere with him, especially if it meant putting up with his insatiable urges. “jeno, i don’t want to,” you said, trying to push at him.
jeno scoffed, wondering when you would realize that he didn’t care what you wanted and you had no way of winning. “if you want to make a scene in front of all these lovely people, be my guest,” he hissed in your ear.
panicked, you glanced around the crowd in search of someone that could save you. it was like everybody was looking at you until you actually needed them to.
then, you locked eyes with jungwoo. matter of fact, it seemed like he’d been looking at you much before you’d even glanced in his general direction. he saw you, saw the way jeno was holding you roughly, saw the obvious stiffness on your face, saw the pleading look in your eyes; but ultimately, jungwoo saw the image of you letting him down after bleeding him dry for half a year, and he turned away.
your shoulders slumped in defeat.
jeno started dragging you toward the stairs, pushing past a bunch of drunk people dancing on each other. your heart was thumping, and your whole body was rigid with nerves as you tried to think of a way out of this even though you knew there was no option without consequences.
just your luck, the bathroom jeno hauled you too was empty. he pushed you in and locked the door, pressing you against the counter. you gasped and glanced at your reflection in the mirror, hardly recognizing yourself. “jeno, please,” you whispered, trying to plead with him. “please, don’t do this.”
jeno didn’t seem moved by your begging, but he did, however, appear amused. “why are you acting so sensitive about this after all we’ve done together? it’s like you’ve never gotten fucked or something.”
you swallowed, not saying a word.
the silence was very loud, very telling. jeno arched a brow, a realization dawning on him. “you really have never been fucked,” he said, surprised. “damn, i should have figured that out when you were acting like you never sucked dick before.”
your face flushed with heat. it wasn’t like you were necessarily embarrassed about it, not until now. you had always taken it as something to pride yourself on, being fuckable but untouchable. “you say that like it’s a bad thing,” you replied, glancing down at the sink to avoid eye contact.
jeno chuckled. it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but he had been convinced that you were completely pretending to be a goody two-shoes. to know there was at least one percent of you that was still pure amazed him. he lifted the skirt of your dress with his hand and brought it between your legs, asking, “what, you just never find anyone worthy enough for your perfect, sacred pussy?”
you gasped out when he touched you there. his fingers circled your clothed cunt, thumb digging into your inner thigh. feeling scandalized, you grumbled, “maybe i’m just not interested.”
jeno shook his head, astonished by the amount of attitude you still had after all these months and determined to break it out of you. “and maybe i just don’t care if you’re interested or not.”
it went without saying that jeno always made you feel like some kind of object, but this was next level. “this is dehumanizing!” you exclaimed.
hearing you, of all people, talk about dehumanizing made for an interesting conversation. big, calloused hand pressing harder into you, he asked tauntingly, “doesn’t feel good, does it?”
your glossy, painted lips were parted, unable to breathe through your nose. your eyes burned with the threat of tears and it was becoming second nature for them to shed whenever jeno was nearby. “i don’t understand,” you whimpered, trying to free yourself, but to no avail. “why are you doing this to me? what have i ever done to deserve this?”
jeno could feel you struggling, trying to push him off you, but all it did was move your hips against his rapidly hardening cock. he groaned, grabbing hold of your ass and pushing you further back against him. “fuck, just like that,” he growled. “haven’t i told you this already? this is bigger than you and me.”
it wasn’t lost on you that jeno obviously had heard stories about you from other people, stories of happenings you probably couldn’t deny, but it had nothing to do with him. “look, if you’re doing all this to get back at me because i hurt one of your friends or something, i’m sorry, i really am. but i can’t do this anymore, jeno. i want to stop, please. please let me go on with my life.”
“what a privileged response,” jeno hissed without concealing his vitriol. at the same time, he kept palming you over your panties, noticing them beginning to cling to your cunt, and tore your underwear to the side to insert a pair of fingers inside. “what about all those girls whose lives you ruined? i’m sure they wanted you to stop. and you didn’t until they were too humiliated to show their faces around here again and you had no choice.”
you swallowed the lump in your throat. he knew about the girls? “jeno, i haven’t done that since freshman year,” you told him, desperately trying to reason with him.
two loud, harsh smacks echoed in the tiny, crowded space of the bathroom, followed by a gasp consequently. your pussy stung, your head jerking around to look at jeno. “do you really think that matters?” he asked, grabbing your hair to turn you back around just as quickly, as if you didn’t deserve to look at him. “you think that matters when the pain you’ve done to them is permanent? they don’t forget. and they damn sure don’t forgive you.”
you tensed, hating the way your walls were gripping and gushing around his fingers. “so what? you think you’re god or something? is this you punishing me for my sins? you’re not exactly what i would call a saint, either.”
“me and you, we’re not the same,” jeno remarked, a nip to his tone as if you needed the reminder of how much he disliked you. “you only pick on people that you think are below you somehow. people you think won’t fight back.”
“i know i’m not a good person,” you admitted in between gasps, thighs straining as his fingers pumped into your pussy harder, faster, reaching places you’d never touched on your own. “ i know i don’t deserve to be happy. maybe i don’t even deserve to be treated with respect, but please leave me this one thing. spare me just this once.”
jeno laughed cruelly, pulling his fingers out of your drenched hole and smearing your juices all over your folds and thighs. his finger unintentionally swiped over your sensitive clit, making your legs quiver and your stomach tighten, sucking in itself.
“damn, baby. you really know how to hurt my feelings,” jeno said, voice dripping with sarcasm. he withdrew his fingers, bringing them into his mouth for a taste. “you don’t want me to fuck you that bad?”
your heart was spiking with dread, thumping belligerently in your chest, your ears, and between your legs. no one had ever made you feel so vanquished.
“take my dick out,” jeno said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “hurry up.”
you sighed anguishedly, turning around to undo his pants and slip his aching dick out of its confinements. for months, jeno had been suppressing the urge to fuck you, wanting to wait for the moment where it would be most pivotal.
getting a hold of your throat, jeno roughly yanked you flush against him the second you whirled back around to face the tiny bathroom counter, making you stand tall against his chest. his voice was almost as rough as the hands that held you. “put it in.”
you gawked, shaking your head.
his fingers tightened dangerously around your windpipe, making your damp eyes widen and your jaw slack against his whitening knuckles, maybe half a wheeze making its way out your throat before he warned, “if i have to fucking tell you again, i’m gonna crush every bone in your goddamn neck.”
with no other option, you meekly reached behind you to grasp him in your quivering hand, aimlessly steering him to your hole and sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as the tip brushed past your dripping folds. jeno released a shaky breath, slapping your hand away and rutting his hips into you from behind, sheathing himself inside in one go.
he slackened his unforgiving grip on your throat, shoving you back against the counter none too gently, but you still felt like you couldn’t breathe when he entered you, a mangled whimper echoing out. your fingers desperately braced the edges of the counter for purchase as you tried to will yourself to inhale, but it was like you were choking.
jeno had a death grip on your thighs, forcibly pushing them apart a little more as he coated himself with the creamy, hot wetness of your unwanted arousal. “mm, hard to believe you don’t secretly want me when you’re sucking me in like this, baby,” he said, proud.
you shook your head in denial, face flushing with a heat that spread to your ears and neck. it didn’t help that there were beads of salty, hot tears pouring down your face and reducing your vision to one big, hazy blur. you didn’t want him, not even a little bit. but you couldn’t control the way your body was responding.
the lewd, wet smack of his cock thrusting deeply into your tight cunt rang out so loudly that you wanted nothing more than to hide into oblivion and never be seen again, mortified. it made things seem so much different than they were. his long, thick cock was stretching you beyond the cusp your limits and making you gape.
“i’m so nice to you,” jeno said, tipping his head back. you could see his chest rising and falling through his clothes, his body taut with pleasure and excitement. “i’ve been holding back for so long, trying not to fuck you. won’t keep me out this pussy now. i’m gonna fuck you till your legs give out. have you at practice limping.”
your knees, wobbly as they already were, began knocking into the cabinets at the bottom of the sink. you winced your eyes closed as your fingers curled around the edge of the counter roughly enough to change the color around your knuckles, hoping to think of something, anything, to take you out of the moment.
but it was too hard. you couldn’t ignore the throb of your gushing walls as they kneaded his cock, making him grunt in your ear as he leaned over your backside. you couldn’t ignore the faint sting of his nails stabbing your hips and his heavy palm slapping repeatedly against your ass. and you definitely couldn’t ignore the dirtiness staining you from head to toe.
sure, it felt good, his body rocking against yours steadily, but it didn’t feel right. many nights you had pictured what losing your virginity would be like, both the way that it was supposed to look and the way that you were more inclined to, but this was neither; it was heartless, it was punishing, and it was brutal.
jeno grabbed you by your hair and forced you to look into the mirror, yanking your head up. “there it is,” he spat, words sounding painfully familiar. “there’s the real you.”
your hair was messy from him tugging it every which way, treating you like a doll to mishandle. your makeup was ruined from your sobbing, the path of your tears harsh against everything else. your eyes were red and your right lash looked like it was barely holding on, the effect of rubbing at your face.
jeno watched you take in the destroyed sight of yourself, practically hearing the critical thoughts hopping in your mind. “this is what you really are. this is what you’re sucking my dick to keep hidden from the world. is it worth it, baby? or do you just like the way i taste on your tongue?”
no, it wasn’t worth it. you were beginning to understand that now. he was taking too much from you, too much of your peace and too much of your sanity. maybe it would be better to be judged and lonely but free than to be loved by people whose opinion of you could change on a dime anyway at the expense of your soul.
your pride had been buried a long time ago, brutally murdered in her sleep. “jeno, please stop. i’m uncomfortable,” you complained, tearing your eyes away from your reflection in shame.
jeno smacked your ass again, making you cry out sharply. “you just love being the victim when it’s convenient for you, huh?”
“i’m sorry!” you whimpered. “i don’t know what you want me to do. what do you want? just tell me.”
jeno snickered, running his hands over your hips and waist to knead the flesh. then, he brushed your hair out of your face, nibbling at the skin behind your ear before growling, “you know what i want, cheerleader? i want to assassinate all there is that you love about yourself and leave everything else untouched, so that you understand not why everybody hates you, but why nobody loves you.”
those words hit you straight in the gut. for the first time, you had no retort, no comeback.
hips beginning to move faster, jeno continued, “the boys don’t love you, they just want to fuck you. they would kill to be as deep inside you as i am. the girls sure as hell don’t love you. they either want to be you, or they resent you for beating their asses. and don’t get me started on those girls you call friends.”
“jeno, stop,” you whispered, an agony vicious enough to rip through flesh tearing you straight in half.
but jeno didn’t listen. he wasn’t done, not until he made his point. “don’t think i didn’t notice how lonely you were for the whole week everybody was talking shit about you. they didn’t want to touch you with a six foot pole, did they? they don’t want to be seen with you unless it gives them a good rep.”
there was a pang in your chest. you didn’t want to admit it, but that cut deep. you had heard people say mean things about you before, it was to expected when you were an emblem of popularity on campus, but few things had reached you where it hurt.
jeno stroked your messy cheek, almost with affection. “but it’s okay. because you want to know something, baby? it was hard for me to admit it to myself, but you truly fascinate me. i can’t get you out of my head sometimes. you piss me off every time without fail, but i keep coming back to you. i like you, baby. if no one else does. you grew on me.”
you weren’t sure if that was supposed to make you feel better, but it didn’t. if anything, you only felt more heartbroken and wounded not only by his words, but by your inability to counter them. it truly dawned on you, right then, just how alone you were.
jeno threw his head back, grunting. his hips were moving with a mind of their own, eager to finish. “fuck, i’m gonna come.”
your eyes went wide in panic, remembering that he had gone in bareback.
“jeno, don’t…”
before you could even finish your statement, jeno clamped a hand over your mouth, muffling your protests into his pale palm. “you know what guys at my school used to say about cheerleaders?” he asked, obviously not expecting a response. “‘see a cheerleader, breed a cheerleader.’ ‘cheerleader? breed her.’”
you thrashed, but it was pointless. those thick, burly biceps of jeno’s were one of the first things you noticed about him and they weren’t just for display. he held you in place as he quickened his pace again, his thrusts unrelenting.
with a couple more quick yet shockingly rhythmic thrusts, jeno emptied his load deep, deep inside you. he moaned, moving his hands from your mouth to your hips to keep himself steady as he reeled from the pleasure of a mind-numbing orgasm. “goddamn,” he cursed, panting for breath.
you stifled a small noise as you felt his warmth flooding into you, unsure how to feel at this point.
to your surprise, jeno started fucking you again, never once daring to pull out as if he was determined to fuck every drop of his sticky cum as deep inside you as it could reach. his stringy, thick load gathered on his dick and inside your pussy, leaking down your thighs as he kept going.
you gasped out, moans involuntarily leaving you as you were stuffed full of him over and over. you didn’t mean to, but it was impossible to control.
then, jeno stuck a hand between your legs and rolled his thumb over your clit, which didn’t help. you cried out, tensing. “jeno, stop! it’s sensitive.”
“that’s the point, dummy,” jeno replied, stimulating your clit with his hand while simultaneously pumping himself into you from behind.
your core tightened, heat wafting over you as your chest heaved wildly. “what are you doing?” you stammered.
jeno smiled, watching in the mirror how your face tensed with a blend of confusion and ecstasy that you couldn’t rein. “you really think i’m an asshole, huh? i’m trying to make you come. relax and let me.”
you shook your head. you didn’t want to come, not for him, and most definitely not on his cock for him to feel every unintentional shudder of your pussy as it gushed and pulsed with hot, sweet release; that would be embarrassing.
that made jeno chuckle. “no? you don’t wanna come for me, baby?” he asked, furrowing his brows playfully as he tilted your face back up to the mirror with a push of your jaw. “come on, let go. you keep saying i’m not a good guy, but you shoot me down when i try to be nice.”
you moaned again, against your own reason and better judgment. “please,” you rasped with half a breath.
“please, what?” jeno asked, rubbing you with just a pinch more force. “do you even know?”
god, you hated him; you absolutely despised him. but damn, if it didn’t feel good to have someone touch you after you’d spent so long avoiding sex like it was something to be ashamed of.
and this? this was definitely something you were ashamed of.
and yet the most shameful moment, perhaps, was when you finally couldn’t resist the pleasure of his big, long fingers twirling around your sensitive nub and his brutal hips smacking into you with a vengeance, clamping around him as you orgasmed with a loud cry and the heat shot through every corner of your body.
“shit,” jeno hissed, the feel of you finishing around him draining the cum from his balls for a second time.
your jaw slacked, overwhelmed by how you felt completely and utterly stuffed, ropes of his cum filling you to the hilt. jeno thrusted into you a little more, sending a flare through your back and shoulders, until he stilled for good. you could hear him panting behind you.
after a moment or two, jeno pulled out. hand between your thighs, he gathered some of his stringy release on his finger and brought it up to your lips. “open up. don’t make me say it again.”
you opened your mouth wide enough for him to insert two of his cum-coated fingers inside. then, you sucked at them and swallowed it down, knowing those would be the next words to leave his mouth.
jeno raised a brow, pleasantly surprised. he took his time to withdraw his fingers, enjoying the sensation of you licking them clean. “see, i knew you loved eating my cum.”
your face burned, but you didn’t have the energy to deny it. not after that. it felt like there was a gaping hole in your chest, a void that would never be filled.
“you’re learning,” jeno commented, humming in satisfaction. “good girl. you know, maybe one day we can get along. don’t you think?”
“yeah,” you murmured weakly. at this point, you would just go along with whatever he said. and maybe that was why he figured you could experience some peace together now.
keeping your dress bunched up, jeno grabbed some tissues from his left and started to wipe at you. “let’s get you cleaned up before we leave, cheerleader. don’t want the entire student body to see you like this, right?”
you whipped your head around, eyes widening in surprise. leaving to go where? certainly you weren’t going home with him after tonight.
“did you think i was kidding?” jeno asked with a sly smile, slipping your panties backing in place and giving your shoulder a fleeting kiss. “i told you, i’m gonna fuck you till your legs give out.”
#lee jeno smut#jeno smut#nct dream smut#nct smut#nct#nct x reader#jeno scenarios#nct jeno#jeno x reader#jeno x you#jeno imagines#nct fanfic#nct dream x reader#revehae fics
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
just for the weekend ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ - franco colapinto


summary: your teammate has an absolutely ridiculous plan to bring your team back from the dead - but it might be just crazy enough to work w/c: 5.5k + some smau style tweets warnings: a little angst, some uncomfortable touching/kissing since it's fake dating (not too bad but better safe than sorry), some miscommunication - just two idiots in love i fear
a/n: WOW it's finally here, fake dating is literally a guilty pleasure trope for me so i hope yall enjoy this HAHA - also sorry to Williams fans bc there's a lot of slander in this but trust its all for the plot <333 (also holy shit this is the longest fic I've ever written WOW)
"You're actually insane."
"Oh c'mon, at least think about it for a minute, it's perfect!"
You fold your arms over your chest and try your best to look uninterested in whatever it is your teammate has to say. The two of you had been racing together for a little over half a year now, and you had witnessed him make (at least in your opinion) a grand fool of himself. Flirting with interviewers, winking at cameras, having absolutely no filter during press conferences - but this, this was by far the craziest thing you had heard come out of his mouth.
"A fake relationship?"
"Ah ah ah," he tuts, jutting a finger in your face, "a media relationship, one that will draw the attention away from how crap we're doing and onto the personalities of the team. Think about it, McLaren has whatever Oscar and Lando have got going on and Ferrari basically has two models for drivers. We need something to put us on the map, to make people care about us!"
You pause, and for a minute you seriously consider his outrageous proposition - he isn't completely wrong. For the two of you, making it into the points range was a rare occurrence, and even though the team always made sure to celebrate it like a podium there was something that stung about constantly being at the bottom.
"Do you realise how much trouble we could get into?"
"Ah," he sighs, and it's starting to annoy you how lightly he's talking about this, "ever the pragmatist."
"Well one of us has to be if the other's going to keep saying stupid shit," you huff before turning around and beelining out of his driver's room.
Seriously, a fake relationship? Had he lost his mind? Maybe if he focused more on his racing you wouldn't be constantly outperforming him.
"At least think about it, okay?" You hear him call out from behind you, and consider yourself lucky to be facing the other way so that he doesn't catch your obnoxious eye roll. Surely he had to be kidding because there was no way you were going to devote any amount of time to this ridiculous thought.
God fucking damnit.
It was frustratingly confusing, the kind of power Franco had. You had witnessed it first hand with how smoothly he spoke to anyone and managed to get his way almost instantly - but this was your first time experiencing it first-hand. It was another weekend, another country, another race, but the only thing you could think of was his stupid consideration - which, with each passing moment, seemed increasingly genius.
You had almost a year of experience with the team over your teammate, and with that, your fair share of embarrassment and disappointment. Sure, his idea was a little out there but you were close to being at your wits end and if nothing else, you hoped this would at least be a little fun. Plus you were pretty sure at this point if you didn't act on this thought soon, it would start interfering with your performance.
"Fine," you said a little breathlessly as you burst into his driver's room ahead of a race.
"Hey!" he exclaimed, looking at you with a shocked look, "whatever happened to knocking? I could've been naked in here!"
You roll your eyes before continuing, "You still up to the ..." You pause, thinking of how best to word it, "Fake relationship thing?"
His eyes light up immediately, "Ah, I knew you'd come around eventually."
Letting out a soft huff, just to let him know that you still aren't fully convinced this will work, you sit down on his couch. "I think we should lay down some ground rules first."
"Yes ma'am." He nods, straightening up and forcing a serious expression you can only assume is mocking yours.
"Firstly, no kissing."
"Understood."
"Actually no public affection at all, holding hands, hugging, nothing."
"Oh sure and how exactly are we going to convince people then?"
You pause, thinking for a little, "Okay maybe hand-holding and hugs are fine, but you better not push it - that goes for the pet names as well." He nods with a satisfied smile.
"And no one other than us two can know this is fake, alright? Otherwise, it'll spoil the plan."
"Trust me, I don't need anyone knowing I'm going along with something as ridiculous as this. It'll be our little secret."
"Our little secret," he repeats with a hum, a sly sort of smile spreading across his face as he gets up from his spot. "See you after the race, my love."




You sighed in exasperation, tossing your phone to the side of the couch in your driver's room where it fell with a light thud. You had about a thousand other things to be worrying about - your pretty disappointing result in qualifying for one - but for some reason, the main thing on your mind was your 'relationship' with Franco. Somehow, it had proved even more intense than you had expected, which planted a seed of worry in your mind as you realised how hard this was actually going to be to pull off. Since his not-so-subtle announcement to a hoard of hungry press members at last week's race, the media had managed up a flurry about the two of you.
There were supportive fans who liked you both enough not to see any problem with two teammates dating, as well as others who were more sceptical about how it might impact your performance. However, what really seemed to get to you were those who doubted you more than the relationship.
Your social media had been bombarded with comments and theories about the reason behind your relationship, doubting your place on the grid, and calling you names that - after shedding the status of 'first girl rookie', you thought you had left behind. Regardless, you feel a little stupid for being so unprepared for all this - not just the tweets but the harsh articles, the questions during press interviews and even shouting fans. Maybe if you had done a little more thinking about it first, you would've realised this was a stupid idea that should've been left at just that.
Throwing your head back you let out an exasperated sigh, trying to clear your head so that you could move on and focus on the race that was happening tomorrow. The last thing you wanted was for this plan to start impacting your driving. But Franco always seemed to have the worst timing - or best, depending on who you asked.
"Hello?" A couple quick knocks alert you of his presence before he cracks the door just wide enough to peek in. "There's my beautiful girlfriend." The way the pet names and affection seem to come to him so easily makes you simultaneously impressed and concerned, unsure of whether it's an indication of his great acting or flirting skills.
"What do you want?" You try to make it as obvious as you can that you're not in the mood, and he realises this right away.
"Oh, nothing, I just wanted to ask if you were free after this."
"You know I'm not really a huge fan of the big team dinners, especially not when we have a race tomorrow."
"Oh it's not like that, I was just going to go check out a restaurant near our hotel and wondered if you wanted to join me."
When you finally speak it's just above a whisper, "Is this a part of the fake dating thing?"
He laughs softly, his ability to find everything entertaining has always amazed you. "If you want to, it can be. If that gives you a reason to come hang out with me, though if you don't it's totally fine."
"No, I'll come, not like I've got anything better to do." You hate how every word you've said so far has sounded so pathetic.
"Great, I'll meet you by the paddock entry in ten?"
"See you then."
The street lights were dim, just bright enough to illuminate the street the two of you were walking down. The night was cool and still, and there were barely any people out other than you. You weren't sure why, but you had ended up telling Franco a lot more than you had expected. Maybe it was the extremely fancy restaurant you had initially gone to or the local one the two of you agreed to ditch it for instead, or maybe it was just the freeing feeling of being in another country.
The two of you had talked before, of course - as teammates it was difficult to avoid. But beyond the casual small talk, discussions about strategies or banter during challenges your relationship never extended beyond casual co-existence. It was one of the reasons you were glad your higher-ups had never tried to force the two of you into a professional friendship. There was something about Franco, his ability to strike up a conversation and maintain it even when the topic clearly strayed far beyond his interests, that made him so likeable, so easy to get along with. And the support he got from fans and the media reflected this well. You just never felt like there was any room for you in that equation.
But here, away from the cameras and shedding the roles of drivers, the two of you became normal people. You spoke, you laughed, you vented to him everything that worried you about your 'relationship' and he listened throughout all of it - all the while the two of you shared the biggest, best, pizza you had ever had.
"I have to say, I don't know if our engineers will appreciate the extra weight I've just put on," he jokes, breaking the comfortable silence that had been lingering around you two as you walked.
"Me neither, they might have to roll me into the car at this rate."
"You know, I think this is the first time the two of us have hung out, just us two."
You think for a little before answering, "You're right."
"Do you think there's a reason for that?"
"You mean besides us both being extremely busy people and already seeing each other pretty often? Not really, no."
"Good point, though with our little plan, we're definitely going to be seeing each other a lot more."
There's a beat of silence. "This is nice though, right?" He asks, and his voice is so tentative you almost find it endearing.
"It is nice, this was fun." You try not to think too much about the fact the two of you could be mistaken by any passer-by as a couple of lovebirds on a first date - or that fact that even to those who knew you, you were.
"I appreciate you telling me all that stuff, you know, about what people are saying about you."
"Oh, if anything I should be thanking you for listening to me vent about it."
"It is serious though, I'm so stupid for not even thinking about what you'd have to deal with."
"Well I don't think either of us gave it enough thought but," you pause and look up at him, "we're too far in to back out now."
He shoots you a comforting smile, one that shows how reassured he feels that you seem to finally be coming around to his idea. That is, at least, before his face morphs into one of discomfort.
"God, I'm so full."
"We're almost back at the hotel now, let's just sleep and then we can wake up early tomorrow morning to-"
"Wait, is that ice cream?" Franco interrupts you to point out a street vendor who's about to pack up for the night, and before you know it he's running up to the man eagerly. You can only follow suit with a sigh, knowing full well you wouldn't mind some dessert either.
"You two are lucky, you'll be my last customers for the night," the moustachioed owner of the cart says with a warm smile.
"Thanks," you reply kindly, before turning to Franco, "what flavour do you think you'll get."
"Hm, not sure, maybe chocolate?"
"Wow, boring."
He scoffs, "Oh yeah? And what exotic flavour are you going to get then?"
"Mint choc," you smile, but your face drops once you see your teammate's disgusted expression.
"You've got to be kidding me, that's like the worst choice."
You feign offence, "How dare you insult the best ice cream flavour of all time?"
"Ah, you two are quite the couple," the man laughs and you watch as Franco's eyes widen in embarrassment.
"Oh we're not-"
"Thank you," it's your turn to interrupt him, turning to the man with a smile. "One chocolate and one mint choc chip please."
You go to reach for your wallet to pay but you feel a hand on yours, stopping you.
"No, it's okay, I got this."
"Wh- Franco c'mon you know full well both of us could afford about a thousand of these ice cream cones don't be ridiculous."
"I know," he smiles and even though he's trying to be serious you know he's also trying not to laugh, "but I just figured you know, I'm the one who dragged you out here and like, got you into this whole fake dating mess."
You furrow your brows, a little confused at what exactly he's getting at.
"I guess I just want to say thank you, you know?"
"Alright, alright," you laugh softly, watching as he pays and takes both of the cones, handing you yours. Once you grab yours, you instinctively loop your arm around his, pulling him close and resting your head against his shoulder. The ice cream man laughs endearingly at the two of you.
"You're the best boyfriend ever!" you say in as high and cute a voice you can manage, cringing a little but determined to keep up the bit - you don't even bother to think about how fast you can feel Franco's heart race when you do.



Last night was really nice. You're sitting next to your race engineer, nodding along as she points to various multi-coloured dots and lines on the screen. You hear yourself agreeing with a couple quick "mhms", "of course" and "yep"s even though you can barely hear what she's saying. You're mere minutes away from getting in your car for a race, getting briefed on your strategy, and the only thing you can think of is the 'date' you had with Franco last night - if you can even call it that.
You had thought that getting everything off your chest, the hate comments, the doubt you had, would help you feel better and relieve any worries you had. And it did, at least until you got back to your hotel room alone and caught yourself smiling at the thought of seeing your teammate again the next day. How, even as you washed up and got ready for bed, you found yourself thinking - pizza, ice cream, walking at night together, isn't that something a real couple would do?
"Are you listening to me?" your race engineer's voice cuts through the haze of your thoughts, causing you to straighten up immediately.
"Yes! Sorry," you mumble, but just at that moment, you see him walk into the garage, greeting a couple of the mechanics warmly. Before you realise it, he's beelining straight for you, his arm coming around your waist as he leans in close to your ear.
"There's a ton of cameras, I just wanted to be believable," he whispers, and when he pulls back you can see the smile on his face. You nod curtly, fully aware of how red your face feels over such a small interaction as he waltzes away.
"Okay, so as I was saying," your race engineer pipes up again, though you couldn't be paying her less of your attention - watching as your 'boyfriend' walks off, his brown hair illuminating in the afternoon light. For a fake relationship, the quickening pace of your heart felt far too real.
"Well you two have been teammates since the beginning of this year, can you tell us a little about when you realised you might be more?"
Your struggle was never-ending - or at least, that's what it felt like, finding yourself at the centre of an impromptu interview with Franco. Around you, the other drivers were getting questions about their place in their teams, how they felt about their current strategy and about their racing futures. And there the two of you were, getting thrown question after question about your 'relationship'.
"Well," you begin, before being saved by your teammate. You had to give it to him - he was great at making stuff up on the spot.
"Well, I think it was somewhere around a month after I first joined the team, and met her. It was just something about her, she's sort of electric in this almost untouchable way, you know?"
You try not to look too awkward standing next to him as he talks, feigning your best-interested smile - though a part of you is extremely intrigued by this fake story he's creating.
"At first I thought I just wanted to be like her, her passion and talent were just so respectable, but the more time I spent with her the more I realised it was something completely different."
He turns to look at you, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you close to him. Your expression falters a little as you're caught off guard by the sudden contact and as you turn away from the journalists and towards him, your eyes widen in shock at the sight of his pursed lips nearing yours. Before you realise it, his lips are against yours and you're pulling away as quickly as possible, face bright red. You're just barely aware of the thousands of flashing camera lights as you turn to quickly excuse yourself.
"Thank you all for coming, it was nice talking to you but, uhm, I have to go!" You hurriedly blurt out before slipping out of Franco's grip and darting off to your driver's room.
You hear his footsteps following closely behind you, as well as the sound of him calling out your name. When you near the door of your room, you turn around and grab his wrist to yank him in before you shut the door.
"What the hell was that?" is all you can muster out, "I thought we agreed no kissing?"
"Look, I can explain!"
You cross your arms with a huff, looking at him expectedly.
"I was just going to peck you quickly on the cheek, you know because we were getting all romantic and I wanted it to be believable! B-but then you turned, and then we," he's struggling not to ramble and his quickly moving hands do little to help. That's when you also realise his face is bright red as well, and he doesn't seem any less flustered by it than you do. "I'm really, really sorry I really shouldn't have done that."
You'd be lying if you said his explanation didn't make you feel any better. You're not actually upset about the kiss itself though, in fact, it's the opposite - actually, the grudge you're holding is doing little to help the internal struggle going on in your head. The kiss didn't make you angry, but the realisation that you wanted it to be real, did.
You sigh, rubbing your temples as you slump down in the nearest chair. Franco does the same on the adjacent couch, though his gaze stays carefully on you, almost afraid of what you might say next.
"It's fine, I think we just need to coordinate our PDA a little better then."
"Yes, of course," he nods quickly.
There's a beat of silence. "You're really good at acting though."
"What?"
"That whole story you made up about how you fell in love with me, it was really believable." You laugh lightheartedly trying to lighten the situation and alleviate the awkwardness that's settled between you two.
"Well it's pretty easy, I didn't need to make up much of it," his eyes catch yours and his gaze is soft when he smiles at you.
"What?" you're confused.
"Never mind," he scoffs lightly, his gaze dropping to the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. He looks almost disappointed at something, though you can't realise what. "Well, I'll leave you alone now. I really am sorry about what happened before." You watch as he pushes himself up from the couch, his head hanging guiltily - looking almost like a scolded puppy.
"It's fine Franco, really, please don't feel too bad about it." He nods thankfully before slipping out the door, leaving you alone.
Being a driver, hotel rooms had come to be a companion you knew far too familiarly. Their high ceilings, plush sterile white bedsheets, the empty bathroom - almost everything about them felt a sign of loneliness, of temporality, a house that never felt like home. Even though you knew how ridiculous it would be to complain about something that others would see as a privilege, it was hard to deny the isolation you felt whenever in a new country, away from most of your family or friends.
Maybe that's why you had been so eager to latch onto Franco's idea - it made sense, he had become the person you spent the most time with so why not give yourself some ridiculous reason to be around him even more? However somewhere along the way you stopped needing the reason of fake dating, somewhere in between hushed conversations, planned posts and candid photos - and instead found yourself genuinely enjoying his company. It was a little strange and sometimes acted as a sour reminder of how lonely you'd become but more than anything it felt like a blessing in disguise.
You were reminded of this fact as you lay, wrapped in a plush white hotel robe, across your messy bedsheets - laughing to yourself at the tweets your boyfriend had sent you. They were all about you, or the two of you, of course. Comments on the tiniest things, the way the two of you looked at each other, the way Franco held your hand, the way you worried about him.
"I feel a little bad, they're all so gullible," you typed quickly.
"Oh, so now you feel bad?" His response was almost instant.
"Don't you?"
"It's fun, isn't it? All this playing pretend."
Right, pretend. You rolled onto your back with a deep sigh, staring up at the tall hotel ceiling. All of this was just so confusing - as if figuring out how you felt about someone wasn't difficult enough, the two of you had complicated it by tricking the entire world into thinking you were in love. Whether you truly liked him or not, the idea was doomed for failure - and the more you thought about it, the more it seemed like the former.
"You're right," you typed back, watching intently as the three tiny dots appeared, disappeared then reappeared. What could he be saying that would need so much thinking?
"Can we talk tomorrow, after the race?"
You felt your stomach drop, had he finally caught on to how obvious you were being about how you truly felt, and decided that actually it might be better to just drop this whole act and go on as just teammates? With trembling hands, you typed back.
"Sure, what about?"
"I'll tell you then, for now, we should sleep."
"Goodnight Franco."
"Goodnight mi amor." You laughed softly to yourself at the nickname he had given you, though a small part of you took it as salt to the wound - almost as if he was dangling the possibility of something that could never happen right in front of your desperate little face.
However, not like you had a choice - all you could do now was get ready for bed and brace yourself for whatever tomorrow brought.



You couldn't believe it. The sounds of celebration erupted around you, but you sat completely still in your car, silent, attempting to process what had just happened. Your first win, and, your first double podium, with Franco. Your head was spinning as the never-ending stream of thoughts raced through your mind. Suddenly, you heard a voice coming from above your car's halo, muffled by your helmet. You flick the visor up, lifting your head as highly as you could - locking eyes with your teammate.
"We did it! Oh my god!" The excitement on his face is enough to send a slight surge of energy through you as he offers you his hand, helping you out of the car. When you do though, you stumble a little - the nerves are almost too much for you.
"Woah, you alright?" Even through the fog clouding your mind you can make out the concern in Franco's voice and feel his arms steadying you.
"Yeah, just-" you mumble, gesturing to your helmet and making weak attempts to undo the clasps underneath it. It's almost suffocating you, and the chaos going on around you isn't helping the pounding headache.
"Oh, let me," he reacts immediately, dropping his own helmet and bringing his hands below your chin to swiftly undo the clasps and pull the helmet off of you. You take a deep breath of air as you pull off your fireproof mask, though it sounds more like a desperate gasp.
Around you, the crowds roar with excitement, both your team and others as they make attempts to gesture at the two of you to join them. Your head spins though, and you wobble backwards into Franco.
"It's too loud," is all you can stutter out, though he understands you almost immediately, a strong hand gripping your wrist and pulling you away from the noise and somewhere quieter. You're not entirely sure where he's taking you but at that moment you feel as though you'd follow him just about anywhere.
Luckily though, when your eyes refocus you're in his driver's room, and even though outside you can hear the cheers continuing, you're offered some solace here, the walls muffling the sound. You sigh, sinking into his couch as you throw your head back, panting still.
You feel like it's all just too much - not just the physicality of the race, but the feeling of winning it, winning it with Franco, just Franco himself. When you finally manage to catch your breath you lift your head to see him standing over you, watching intently.
"Better?"
"Much better, thank you." You smile earnestly, "Though I don't think we'll be able to hide in here much longer, there is a cooldown room for this exact reason."
"Oh, I mentioned it to someone, not sure who but he looked important, and he said it would be okay."
You laugh softly, amazed at how he can seem so calm even at a moment like this.
"We did it," you say, still not being able to believe it.
"We did," he smiles, sitting on the couch next to you, "a couples podium."
You feel your heart skip a beat at the sudden reminder of your conversation last night, him mentioning he had something to tell you. Was this it? The two of you had achieved what you had been wanting this entire time, and there was no better time to let this ridiculous bit go than now.
You stare at the wall of his room, the gigantic flag of his home country, and let out a shaky breath, mustering up the courage to break the silence. "So..."
He turns to you, one eyebrow raised in interest.
"What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" You're trying your best to keep your voice lighthearted, "it sounded serious."
"Oh, well about that," he seems to have forgotten it temporarily as well, but the fact that he turns to look at the flag as well, almost unable to maintain eye contact with you, isn't a good sign.
Maybe it's the adrenaline from the race, maybe it's the fact that both of you are going to be needed out on the podium in about ten minutes - or maybe it's the fact that you're so desperate to get out these feelings and make him understand how you feel, but you start talking before you even realise it.
"Look, Franco, I," you start, not entirely sure of where you're going to end up, "I know you asked me to do this whole fake dating thing with you and I completely understand if you want to end it now, I mean why wouldn't we? It's perfect!"
He looks at you confused, lips parted as if about to interrupt you but you continue anyway, stupidly.
"But, look, here's the thing," you turn to him now, and you're sure your face is bright red, "I don't want this to end!"
You let out a deep sigh, and clutch your hands together to stop them from shaking, though it doesn't help that Franco looks even more confused now.
"What?" he says, and your heart drops.
"I," you pause, struggling to find the right words, and struggling to get them out, "I think I like you, like, for real." Okay, not exactly the best choice of words but it'll do.
"Like, not for the whole fake relationship thing?" his tone is still concerned and he leans in a little for clarification.
"Yes! Okay, I know it's not exactly what we thought would happen and it'll probably jeopardise our relationship as teammates but there, I like you okay."
"When did you realise?"
"A couple days ago, I'm sorry."
There's a beat of silence, and you're left with the agonising feeling of your heart racing in your chest, waiting eagerly for his response - for him to laugh in your face, for him to get mad, for him to reject you.
But instead, you watch as Franco's confused expression melts into one of pure relief as he sinks back into the couch with a sigh. "Oh, thank God."
It's your turn to be confused. "I'm sorry, what?"
"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that," he says, eyes fixed on the ceiling with the widest smile you've ever seen.
"Wait you mean you-"
"I win!"
You're absolutely speechless, not a single coherent thought on what is going on or how to respond. All you can get out is a confused sort of grunt.
"I win, I've liked you for longer!" he laughs, sitting up and grabbing your hands in his.
You feel as though your jaw is going to dislocate at how fast it drops, "I'm sorry?"
"Oh c'mon, we've been teammates for a year I know you're not that oblivious."
"Well, apparently I am because I'm really confused."
"I've liked you since the moment I met you, you idiot."
"Wh-" You're about to be offended at the name-calling until what he says finally hits you. He likes you. He has liked you. For ages. You idiot.
"Even when you proposed this to me?"
"Yep."
"Even when we went to get ice cream?"
"Yep."
"Even when you kissed me?"
"Y- well wait no that was completely unintentional," he holds his hands out in defence. You slump back, trying your best to process everything today has entailed, it's almost too much. That is until you feel Franco move a little closer to you, his arm stretching around your shoulders and gently moving your head to lay on his. At that moment, it all becomes clear, and you're suddenly unsure about why you ever felt confused about any of this.
"What now?" You say, barely above a whisper.
"We go and get our trophies," even though you're not looking you can hear the smile in his voice. "Though, before then."
You lift your head up off his shoulder to turn to him with raised brows. "Hm?"
"Now that we aren't fake dating, do the rules still apply?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I'd really like to kiss you right now," he whispers, and there's a hint of nerves as you watch his eyes dart in between yours and your lips.
"Really can't wait can you," you tease, though you still move to close the space in between you to. But just before your lips can touch his there's a knock at the door, causing you both to slump back with a sigh.
"Hey, are you two in there?" it's your race mechanic, "you're needed, you know, on the podium."
You roll your eyes to show your obvious disappointment at being interrupted, though Franco just watches you with an endeared smile.
"What are you thinking about?" you ask, not being able to hide your own smile.
"I'm just thinking about how beautiful you're going to look up on that podium, and how I won't have to pretend not to be in love with you anymore."
Taglist : @spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @cinderellawithashoe @vanicogh @taasgirl @claudiajacobs
@dripostsstuff @boiolay @earth-to-lottie @dejavuontrack @dudududu-fangirl
@kravitzwhore @gavisuntiedboot @reiofsuns2001 @musicmie @danielle12002x-blog
@alelo23 @corrodeddeadlydoll @aliwritex @nina-or-anna-or-nora
@5sospenguinqueen @araunahj @sbrn0905 @halleest @lottieliveslife
@lovestruck-sky @im-an-op81-fan @blubra @vienoiserieetc
(don't ask me why it's formatted so weird, tumblr hates me)
#franco colapinto#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto x you#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto fanfic#franco colapinto fluff#franco colapinto oneshot#williams racing#williams f1#formula one fanfic#formula one x reader#formula one fluff#formula one#purinfelix#jet writes ★
999 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pairing: Dazai x f!reader
Contents: NSFW, car sex (unfortunately for Kunikida), breath play, dazai levels of whining, but he always gets what he wants doesn't he, Approx. 1.5k words
“Don’t even think about it,” you breathed, grinding your hips against Dazai’s. His mouth fell open, eyes fluttering shut as a moan left his lips before it turned into a strained laugh. Dazai guided your hand to his neck. He bit at your lower lip playfully, languid thrusts drawing out your pleasure with every deep stroke.
“Pretty please?” Dazai whispered to your ear, his lazy smile widening as your fingers grazed the bandages he always wrapped himself in. “I’ll be a real good boy about it.”
“You’ve been anything but for the last half-hour,” you retorted. “I’ll think about it.”
Dazai pouted, his trademark gaze of innocence returning. He knew how to get what he wanted; even if it required you to play this game of fetch every time. Instead, you ground your hips down, enjoying the friction of him bottoming out in you.
The parking lot was empty this late, keeping your undertakings pleasantly obscured under the roof of your car.
You weren’t meant to be here, precisely.
Nor Kunikida’s car– it was supposed to be back hours ago. But then again Dazai was ever the opportunist; why waste a perfectly good vehicle when you’ve already used it the whole day to spy on a client? Might as well give yourself a treat for a job well done.
Dazai brushed your hair to the side, teeth sinking into your soft skin. You couldn’t move much, your hips straddling Dazai’s and the steering wheel digging into your back with his every thrust. He was keeping you in place, not giving much of any opportunity even as you wriggled and panted against his lips.
Postponing your orgasm was becoming somewhat of a speciality of his, especially with how grumpy it got you the longer he played around. That was what he wanted, more often than not. Predicting your actions was easy, and knowing how far to push to reach your breaking point–
easier.
Then he might get what he wanted.
Your hands drew him closer, your focus waning as the pressure built up again. You weren’t going to let Dazai ruin this one too. Maybe it counted as giving in or perhaps you felt like you were taking control this time, but…
Delicate fingers trailed around Dazai’s neck, making him shudder the moment he realised what you were up to. He wanted it, of course. As much as it annoyed you how desperate he would get only to have your hands wrap around his throat, the pressure building with every second.
You knew he liked the thrill of it. The suicidal maniac in him was ecstatic–playing with life like that. You on the other hand felt your worry building every time he so much as looked at you with that pleading gaze. It was only a play, no real harm behind it.
Plenty of people were into breath play, and yet…it felt different.
It scared you, sometimes—just a bit.
“Change of heart?” Dazai’s eyes were hooded. He looked beautiful like this, flush all the way down his chest. His hand trailed up your thigh, gripping tightly.
“We make a deal?” you asked, arching forward. He was easy to bargain with, like this. “I do this, and you give me the best orgasm I’ve ever had? No half-assing here, Osamu.”
Dazai fluttered his lashes and his grin turned vicious. “I do as you please, oh great beauty of mine.” And you could only blink your eyes closed, hands wrapped around his neck in preparation.
Dazai raised you up suddenly, his cock slipping out of you.
“Wh-at?” you asked, grabbing into his shoulders for balance.
“I’m a fast worker, what can I say?” Dazai smirked.
His hand went to your entrance, drawing slow steady drags of his fingers against your wet pussy lips. The moment his fingers entered you, a shudder crawled up your spine.
You weren’t sure where he was going with this. His fingers made quick work, moving within your walls and twisting to your sweet spot often enough to make you dizzy. You almost forgot what you were meant to do with your hands.
“Fuck,” you said, trying to force your attention back into focus.
Dazai was looking at you, enjoying every second of it.
A few more strokes and his hand pulled away, only for his cock to enter you again, sudden and filling. Your thighs clenched around him, breath coming ragged. The fingers now covered in your wetness went to skilfully move over your clit, thumb rocking back and forth in time with Dazai’s every thrust.
You had to remind yourself to breathe, eyes back to Dazai’s face. He was watching you, head thrown back as a smirk tilted his lips. You could have been a sight to see for all you knew.
But that didn’t bother you.
You reached up, tracing his jawline with both hands before going lower. Dazai’s whole focus was on you, every detail engraving itself in his mind as you wrapped your hands around his neck.
Such delicate work under these circumstances wasn’t ideal. You felt Dazai try to swallow under your hands, the pressure barely there to distract him. But he knew this was only a warmup. It takes time for you to ease into it; this wasn’t the first time you were hesitant to do this.
Dazai’s cheeks reddened. Slowly, ever so slowly, your pressure increased, and you marvelled at the way Dazai moaned weakly from the sensation of literary being suffocated.
Dazai’s eyes fluttered shut, head thrown back as his hold on you waist tightened.
He was beautiful like this, so vulnerable and entirely at your mercy.
You tried to regulate, watching his every twitch and grunt for the air he lacked. You were bringing him to the brink only to relax just enough to get his bearings back together.
Your legs were trembling from the strain, seeing as Dazai’s trust became sporadic, trying to force out as much of his strength into fucking you. Your lower belly tingled with your release which was steadily building up.
Dazai’s thumb didn’t stop, his hand going down to your entrance to gather more of your wetness before coming back to stroke at your clit. You could barely breathe at this point.
Dazai looked at you, choked sounds falling from his open mouth even as his upper teeth bit into his lip. He was having the time of his life.
“Good boy.” You smiled, diving for a kiss as your hands squeezed firmer, swallowing Dazai’s whine as your tongue trailed inside his mouth. Saliva trickled down his chin, making him a bigger mess with every second.
You felt his legs spasm, the tension increasing. Your pussy clenched around him, just the way he liked before he was near.
You held him, not letting go even as his belly fluttered, twitching with every strain to push his orgasm forward. You forced him into the seat, Dazai’s neck bared prettily as you hovered over him, the sound of your kissing filling the air almost as much as his rapid trusts as he struggled to reach you.
“Come on, pretty boy. I’ve got you,” you panted against Dazai’s lips.
Pleasure seeped in, not suddenly this time, but a steady buildup of more more more–and you were cumming, cunt fluttering around his cock enough to force Dazai’s eyes open, staring wide at the rooftop as a pitiful moan vibrated right from his chest. You felt his cock twitch inside you a moment later, his spent shooting inside you, warm and thick.
You only loosened your hold on him when you were sure he was coming down from the high. Dazai’s head lolled to the side, eyes still closed as he breathed hard between coughs for air. He looked utterly exhausted, his face pale with overstrain. He barely had the strength to move, let alone slip out of you.
Not that you could help, flopping against his chest to breathe in his musky scent. The air around you was hot, almost foggy. Like in those sappy romance movies where the couple run away to their car to finally have some alone time.
Except this one wasn’t yours.
You pulled yourself back, reaching with a groan for your phone.
“Whatcha doin’?” Dazai asked, kissing at your shoulder. He looked so pretty as he blinked at you, face serene.
“Looking for a nearby car wash,” you said, forcing your eyes to the screen.
A silence before Dazai’s hearty laugh filled the space. You looked at him, eyebrow raised.
“Were you expecting something else?”
“Not in the slightest,” Dazai said, clearing a tear from his eye. He still smiled when he said, “Kunikida sure has a great friend in you.”
“In both of us.” You leaned in for a quick peck. “Seeing as we’ll be splitting the bill.”
Dazai groaned but it didn’t sound as sincere as he would’ve liked. He pulled you in close, pouting all the while as you pretended not to notice him. He got his way this time around, it’s not like he had much to complain about.
#bsd#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs#bsd fanfic#bsd x reader#bsd x y/n#bsd x you#bsd smut#dazai osamu#osamu x y/n#osamu x you#osamu x reader#dazai x y/n#dazai smut#dazai x reader#bsd dazai#dazai x you#n.sfw#osamu dazai#im really sleepy ill double edit later if i see any mistakes
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
don't want you like a best friend
Description: James is nervous about his inexperience with girls. Luckily he has a best friend who's more than willing to help. (based on an idea formed in part by @amiableness. check out the post)
Pairing: best friend!James Potter x fem!Reader
Warnings: DESPERATE!james, inexperienced!james, blowjob (m receiving), porn with barely any plot
Word Count: 2.5k
a/n: kind of muggle!au? doesn't really matter in the context of this though lmao
You walked into James's flat, quite pleased he'd given you a key. It was much easier to bother him whenever you pleased when you could just waltz in any time.
"James!" you called out, toeing off your shoes.
"In here!" he shouted back.
You followed his voice to his room, seeing him laying on his tummy watching tv. You ran up to his bed and flopping down on it next to him. He laughed in that squeaky, joyful way he only ever seemed to do around you.
"Hi," he greeted with a cheeky smile.
"Hi," you replied with an equal grin, then glanced at the television. "What are you watching?"
"Nature documentary about penguins," he responded simply.
You glanced up at him with a quirked brow. "Why?"
"Cause I like penguins," he shrugged.
"...we need to get you a girlfriend."
He went a little quiet, prompting you to look at him again. You tilted your head.
"James?"
He chewed his lip. "I– I do kind of have a date. Tomorrow."
"What?" you exclaimed, suddenly sitting up straight. "Who? Since when?"
His cheeks went a little pink. "Sirius set it up for me."
"Oh my god! Why didn't you tell me?!"
"I'm nervous!"
You chuckled softly, still in a bit of disbelief. The boy had been single for far too long in your opinion, especially considering how much girls threw themselves at him in school. He always said that it was just because he had high standards, but part of you was half-convinced he must be terrified of girls. Or commitment. Maybe both.
"I just... I can't believe it. Is she cute?"
He almost grimaced. Not a great sign.
"Uh oh," you snorted a laugh.
"It's not that she's ugly! She's... she is pretty, its just," he sighed, shrugging a little, "she's not really my type, I guess."
"At this point, I'm beginning to believe you don't have a type."
He frowned. "Hey."
"Just saying, James. You never date, and it's not for lack of girls who like you."
"I kind of have to like them back for that to work."
"You sure you're not scared of girls?" you asked with a laugh.
He chuckled a little, shaking his head. "No."
"Commitment?"
"No."
"...Sex?"
"Ugh, don't say that," he groaned, dropping his face against the mattress.
You laughed again. "Sounds like a yes. It's really not that scary."
"It's kinda scary," he mumbled against his comforter.
"James," you called quietly, resting your cheek on the mattress to look at him.
He turned his face towards you, his cheeks pink and his hair even messier than usual. His lips were slightly pouty. Frankly, it was absolutely adorable.
"Everyone but me has done it at this point. The furthest I ever got was touching a boob over clothes in fifth year."
You couldn't help but to laugh at that, causing him to whine your name in protest.
"Sorry..." you said, not all that apologetic. "It's just... cute. You get so flustered. It's really not a big deal."
"It is a big deal to me."
"Aw. I'm sorry, Jamie. I just mean that nobody's going to fault you for being inexperienced."
"They might!"
"No they won't."
"You don't know that."
"At any rate, I think it's sweet."
"But I'm not having sex with you," he argued, then snapped his mouth shut, his cheeks going even darker. "That sounds... I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry," you ran a hand through his hair, and he leaned into the touch. "I just mean to say that I'm sure if I think it's sweet, other girls would also probably think it's cute."
"I'm a man. I shouldn't be cute, I should be... strong and masculine. Hot."
"You're very hot, James."
He sighed, still pouting a little.
"Put that lip away," you muttered, tapping his bottom lip.
"You're being mean."
"No, I'm not."
"You're teasing me," he pouted again.
"What? How?"
"You're very hot, James," he mocked in an overly-high-pitched voice.
You snorted a laugh. "Heaven forbid I tell my hot best friend that he is, in fact, hot."
He fell quiet for a moment. "You really think so?"
"Of course I do."
"Mm," he hummed softly, then sighed. "Why can't there be more girls like you?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" you asked, smiling curiously.
"You're always so sweet to me. I just wish there were more girls who act like you, cause then I could just... do it with them and not be so worried about it."
You raised your brows, trying to hold back another laugh. "Oh, really?"
"Don't tease me."
"I'm not. Just, why don't–" you stopped abruptly.
He looked at you with wide eyes. "What?"
"If you're so worried about getting your first time over with, then why don't you just do it with me?"
He looked like he got the wind knocked out of him in that moment, blinking a few times as if he was trying to wake up from a dream. He opened his mouth a few times, though no sound came out.
"I just mean that... you said you'd do it with a girl like me, so why not me? You trust me, I know what I'm doing, you know I won't judge," you listed off some reasons. "It could work, you know?"
"Cause you're... you're my best friend."
"And?"
"And friends don't do that."
"Friends do that all the time," you replied with a shrug.
"What?" he asked, looking totally mortified.
"Friends have sex all the time."
"Since when?"
"Since forever," you chuckled a little. "I'm not saying we have to. Just putting it out there, since you're so nervous about it and all."
"I–I don't..."
"You don't have to say yes."
"I know," he nodded, looking a little uncomfortable. "It's just... I don't think I'm ready to do all of that right now."
You smile a little. "I'm not saying I'd take you to pound town right now..."
"Ugh," he groaned.
"Sorry. I just mean to say that, if you wanted to, we could start slow. Work you up to the main event."
He chewed his lip, looking away from you. You sighed softly, then stood from the bed.
"Alright. Let's go and grab a snack or something and take your mind off all this. Stop stressing so much," you said, trying to grab his arm to pull him up.
He shook his head. "Can't."
"What? Yes, you can."
"No, I can't," he emphasized, his cheeks still dark.
"Why not."
He stared at you for a moment, then whined, dropping his head into the comforter again. He mumbled something into the fabric, causing you to groan in annoyance.
"What are you saying? I can't hear you when you mumble."
"You don't understand," he said, looking at you again with a pouty face. "You're not a guy."
"What the hell is that supposed to... Oh," your eyes widened. You let out a disbelieving, delighted little giggle. "Are you–"
"Please don't talk about it. It'll make it worse," he said quickly in his whiny little voice.
"Aww. Poor baby."
"Stop it."
"Let me see."
His eyes widened comically. "What?"
"Let me see. Come on, turn over," you giggle, trying to turn him.
"Lovie, no, I..."
"Please?" you pouted, knowing he could never resist it.
He whined. "Please don't. It's embarrassing."
"It's hot."
He gulped. "...It is?"
You nodded. "Yeah. It's kind of flattering, too. The fact that I barely suggested it and you got all excited."
"It's not my fault. I just... my brain started thinking..."
"Yeah, brains tend to do that," you joked, relishing in him being all flustered. It was so unlike his usual demeanor. "Come on, Jamie. I just want to see."
He swallowed, nodding a little awkwardly before he turned onto his back. You smirked a little to yourself at the obvious bulge in his sweatpants. You sat back on the bed right next to him, glancing back at his nervous face.
"Can I touch?"
"I... I don't know."
"Just over the pants right now."
He considered it for a few moments, before taking a deep breath, nodding.
"Okay," he said quietly, his hands balling into fists.
You smiled. "Relax."
You let your hand rest on his thigh first, watching him as his eyes trailed your every move. You slowly slid up his leg, teasingly, just so you could see him sweat a little at the thought of being touched for the first time. He was generally quite confident, but somehow missed out on anything and everything intimate outside of kissing.
He sucked in a breath as you reached his hip, looking as if he could pass out.
"Hey," you said gently, trying to catch his eye. "Take a deep breath. Relax. It's supposed to feel good."
He sniffed, nodding shakily. "Y-yeah. Sorry."
"Don't apologize, Jamie. Just... relax. Okay?"
"Okay."
You let your hand move again, barely ghosting over his bulge, the tips of your fingers touching the fabric of his sweatpants. You looked up at his face. His cheeks were red, and his eyes were wide and almost glossy. His pretty, pouty lips were just barely parted as he waited in anticipation for your next move.
You lowered your hand, gripping him gently through his pants, forcing a shaky gasp through his lips. You smirked to yourself a little, stroking him through his pants.
"Feels good, huh?" you asked in a quiet voice.
He opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was a pathetic little moan. You chuckled at the sound, stroking him again. He was bigger than you expected him to be, but not terribly massive. His hips bucked into your hand, another soft whine coming from him.
"Aww. You like it, huh?"
He nodded, breath coming in short.
"Can I do a little more?"
"Uh..."
"I think you'll like it."
"M-maybe," he gasped out, looking utterly wrecked already.
"Can I take off your pants?"
He looked at your face again. "Huh?"
"Can I take them off? I wanna touch you," you stated simply.
He whimpered. "Um... For... for what?"
You furrowed your brow. "So I can feel you. I just want to touch your skin. It'll feel better for you, too. You touch yourself, right?"
"I... Y-yeah. Yeah, sometimes."
"And I assume you don't do it through your pants, right?" you laugh a little.
He merely swallows, nodding dumbly. "Right."
"So... Can I touch you like that? I won't do it unless you say yes."
"Oh..." he sucked in a shaky breath. "O-okay."
"Okay?"
"Yes."
You smiled, hooking your fingers in his sweatpants and underwear. "Hips up, please."
He followed your instructions easily, lifting his hips for you. You tugged everything down in one go, leaving it all pooled at his ankles on the bed. You nearly moaned yourself when you saw him, hard and leaky and ready. You traced his dick softly with your fingertips, impressed with him, and drawing another moan from his lips.
"So pretty, Jamie. Look at you."
"Don't... fuck," he gasped. "Don't say that."
"I mean it. Your cock is perfect."
He whimpered again, sounding like he could cry. You wrapped a hand around him, stroking him softly as hips bucked into your hand, soft moans and squeaks leaving him in utter desperation.
"P-please," he begged, staring at you as if you hung the stars.
"Please?"
"I... I don't know," he shook his head, his lip quivering.
"You need more?"
He sniffled, nodding quickly. "So bad. Please."
"Can I suck your cock, love?"
The sound that left his lips was utterly pornographic, his chest heaving like he'd run a marathon.
"God..."
"That's not my name, baby," you stroke him again. "I need you to say yes if this is what you want."
"Y-yes. Fuck yes," he said, his hips still shifting under you, trying to get more friction from your hand.
"So needy," you chide jokingly, moving to settle between his legs.
He whined watching you climb between his legs, nearly hyperventilating at the sight and feeling of you kissing along his stomach with your hand pushing his shirt up.
"So pretty," he groaned, stroking your hair.
You smiled against his stomach, licking nearly up to his chest just to hear him make that sound again. You kissed back down his stomach, barely ghosting over the tip of his cock at you looked back up at him.
"Ready?"
He nodded, in a trance as he watched you. You kept his eye contact as you darted your tongue out, tasting him for the first time. He practically sobbed in pleasure, pulling on your hair slightly.
"Told you it would feel good, baby," you mutter, licking from base to tip as he squirmed under your touch. "Isn't this nice?"
"Mmmm..." he nodded, chest heaving.
"Good boy," you kissed his tip.
You stared up at him, smiling to yourself at his sweet little reactions as you started stroking him. He looked so adorable totally wrecked. Like he could pass out at any moment. You couldn't help but to want more.
You wet your lips, figuring you could probably fit most of him into your mouth in one go: so you decided to give it a go. You licked him once more, then shoved his cock down your throat, letting it hit far enough to make you gag.
He shouted, gasping for air before he fell into a puddle of moans and desperate praises of your name. You pulled off of him, but only for a second before you went back down, sucking on him as if your life depended on it. It felt like it did.
He gripped the fabric of his comforter, sobbing in pleasure as his hips jutted up into your mouth. You were about to pull off to make some sly remark, when he whimpered loudly, shooting his cum down your throat. You hummed around him, swallowing everything you could despite your utter surprise that he had finished so quickly. He whined and kept his grip tight in your hair until he was done, his seed dribbling past your lips as you couldn't quite swallow everything. You weren't sure if you'd ever witnessed someone cumming so much before.
You did your best to clean him off without making him overly-sensitive, and finally pulled off.
"Mm... Holy fuck, Jamie. You cum that much every time?” You ask, chuckling a little despite being wildly aroused.
He shook his head, sweaty and still whimpering.
"Awww," you cooed softly, reaching up to stroke his cheek. "You okay?"
"That... that felt..."
"What?"
"Best thing ever," he managed breathily.
You laughed. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," he uttered, a small smile on his face as he opened his eyes. "I... you're really good at that."
"Apparently too good," you snorted.
"Maybe," he nodded, then hummed softly in pleasure. "Sorry for cumming so fast."
"It was sweet."
"It's not sweet," he shook his head.
"I think so. You're so sensitive," you kissed his cheek.
He hummed again, then sighed softly. You watched him as he took a few steadying breaths before he moved his eyes back to you. He let his eyes linger on your form for several moments, then chewed his lip. He looked up at you, clearly debating something in his mind.
Then he smiled a little.
"Can I return the favor next time?"
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter smut#james potter fic#james potter oneshot#james potter fanfiction#marauders#marauders smut#marauders fanfiction#luna still hates jk#mdni
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Snow on the Beach
Pairing: Cassian x Reader
Summary: As soon as Cassian and Reader run into each other, she feels the bond snap into place. But feeling unworthy next to the famed Cassian, she keeps it to herself, assuming that he would never find out the truth. Before long, she finds that she was very wrong.
Based on this request! 🩷
Warnings: insecure reader
Word Count: 4k
While walking Nyx to school on an early autumn morning, Cassian was certainly glad that the Illyrian soldiers could keep themselves in line for a day or two, giving him a respite to come home to Velaris and spend time with his nephew. It seemed to him that the boy was growing up far too fast; he could hardly believe that he was already in school.
“So kid,” Cassian said, gently steering Nyx away from the street with a hand on his back, “tell me about school. Have you made any friends?"
Little Nyx grinned. “Yeah!”
“I bet the other kids think it’s cool that your parents are the High Lord and Lady, huh?”
He nodded, “At first, they all thought it was really cool. I think they’re getting used to it now, though. Now everyone is talking about how Astrid’s mom opened that new restaurant by the rainbow.”
Cassian laughed, unable to resist ruffling Nyx’s hair. “Well, they do have good food.”
Nyx agreed, and Cassian took the tiny hand in his own once the boy started veering toward the street again. “Do you like your teacher?”
“She’s really nice,” he said. “She barely even gives us any homework.”
“Now, that’s a good teacher,” Cassian agreed.
Nyx chatted idly with Cassian until they got to school.
Cassian was surprised to see a beautiful young woman standing near the front door, greeting the kids as they filtered in through the building.
You smiled at Nyx as he and Cassian approached. “Good morning, Nyx! Who did you bring with you today?”
“This is my uncle Cassian,” Nyx said proudly, before turning back to Cassian and informing him, “This is my teacher!”
Teachers did not look like that when I was in school, Cassian thought.
“Hi,” Cassian smiled, extending his hand. You took it, your eyes widening slightly when your hand touched his.
“Nice to meet you,” you said. Cassian thought you sounded a bit out of breath. “Are you picking Nyx up today?”
Cassian said, “I am,” and was suddenly very glad for it.
You nodded, still looking somewhat dazed. “Okay, we’ll see you this afternoon then.”
Nyx said goodbye and bounded into the building, but Cassian couldn’t help but feel like something was off. “Are you okay?” he asked. “You look… a little pale, maybe?"
“I’m fine,” you said hurriedly. “Thank you.”
Cassian nodded. “Okay. Good.” Cauldron, why was he flustered now? “This afternoon, then. Have a good day. Good luck with the little ones.”
You laughed, thanking him, before Cassian turned away.
---
You could hardly breathe. And he had known it too, which made everything so much worse.
The last thing you were expecting today was to meet your mate three minutes before school started.
Cauldron. How could the Cassian be your mate?
You were fairly sure you recognized him as he was walking up, but didn’t want to assume. The High Lord and his inner circle were well known here, of course, but you had never met any of them besides Rhysand and Feyre, and that was only because Nyx was in your class.
Cassian was unlike any male you’d ever seen before. His biceps were the size of your head. He could snap you in half like it was nothing. And yet he was holding little Nyx’s hand in his, walking him to school.
Gods.
You were nervous enough about having the High Lord’s son in your class, but then a member of his trusted inner circle shows up, touches your hand, and the bond snaps into place?
And just like that, the commander of the High Lord’s army, the one that they’ve written entire books about, was your mate.
Yet, here you were, teaching arithmetic to a classroom full of tiny children.
It didn’t make sense. You had never heard of the Mother making mistakes before, but surely this was one. Why would someone that powerful have a schoolteacher for a mate?
Cassian didn’t seem to feel it when you had. Surely you would have noticed if it had snapped for him at the same time.
So, he didn’t know. And you figured it was better to keep it that way. You would sound foolish, telling this war hero that you were his mate.
And it wasn’t likely that you would see him again after today, anyway.
You just had to get through the day, and pretend that everything was normal.
By the time parents were back picking up their kids, you had managed to put Cassian out of your mind.
That is, until he showed up again, his massive wings tucked in closely behind him, his shirt spread tightly across his chest and his arms. Your heart leaped as you watched him make his way to the door.
Your mate. He was yours. Or at least the Mother thought he should be.
He smiled brightly when he saw you, and you immediately felt a pull on that invisible string that tied you to him.
It was an effort to steady your breathing when he finally stood in front of you.
Before you could say anything, one of your students ran into your legs from behind at full speed, causing you to stagger forward, into Cassian. He steadied you, his strong hands holding your waist, as your own hands involuntarily came to rest on his broad chest.
Cassian looked into your eyes for a moment, the side of his mouth tugging up into a smile. You got lost in him for a moment, in those hazel eyes that you felt you could see the world in.
Thankfully, you finally remembered where you were, and turned around and narrowed your eyes at your student. “Jan, buddy, we’ve talked about this.”
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, taking a step back. “I forgot.”
“I know you did, it’s okay,” you said, gently patting his back. “Why don’t you go play until your dad gets here, okay?”
You turned back to Cassian as he happily scampered off. Cassian’s eyes were bright as he smiled at you. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Do what?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.
He laughed, gesturing around, to the dozens of squealing children. “This. Stay so calm, being in charge of all these kids while they’re yelling and knocking into you.”
You shrugged, unable to keep the smile off your face, being so close to him. “It’s not that bad. It’s nothing like what you do.”
Cassian smiled, glancing around at the chaos that surrounded you both. “Well, you might be surprised.” His gaze landed back on you and you felt it like a shock down to your toes. “If you ever want to help me out with the Ilyrians, let me know. You might be better at keeping them in line than I am.”
“I highly doubt that,” you laughed. “With kids, you just need to give them a snack and they’ll love you forever.”
He pursed his lips slightly, seemingly thinking this over. “I might have to try that.”
You laughed. “Let me know how it goes.”
“Promise,” he smirked.
In that moment, you knew you could spend all day looking at him and never get bored. It scared you, that thought. You couldn’t allow yourself to fall for him. There was no possible outcome that wouldn’t break your heart.
You cleared your throat, taking half a step back. “You’ll probably want to find Nyx.”
He nodded, as if he too had forgotten why he was actually there.
As if on cue, Nyx bounded up, throwing his arms around Cassian’s legs. “Uncle Cassian!”
Cassian grinned down at him. “Hey, kid. Were you good for your teacher today?”
Nyx smiled shyly. “Yes.”
Cassian turned back to you, raising an eyebrow in question.
You smiled, nodding. “He was.”
“Good,” Cassian said, ruffling Nyx’s hair, before turning his attention back to you. “I’ll see you around?”
You nodded, though you doubted you would see him again. You tried not to dwell on that, on the fact that you had finally, finally found your mate, and you knew deep down that you could never have him.
Cassian glanced back over his shoulder, smiling at you once more after he had left and your heart missed a beat.
You desperately hoped that you would be able to go back to your real life, to forget about him.
---
Cassian couldn’t get you out of his mind after that day. The way you were looking at him…
Maybe it was just that you recognized him. You certainly weren’t the only woman who had looked up at him with big doe eyes.
So, why couldn’t he stop thinking about you?
It wasn’t just that though, he knew, as you danced around his mind once again. You were clearly incredibly kind and sweet. And you were funny.
He found himself smiling as he thought about you, and schooled his features back into his stern, commanding expression as he focused his attention back onto the warriors training in front of him.
But before long, he was thinking of you again, wondering what kind of snack would make the stubborn, bull headed Illyrians slightly less annoying to work with.
He would just have to focus, he told himself, until he could see you again.
Rhysand had given him a questioning look when he had asked to take Nyx to school again, but agreed.
It had only been a few days, but he was already itching to see you again.
He wondered if it was possible that you felt the same way.
---
Before school, you always took it upon yourself to usher idle children into the building, making sure they got where they needed to be while parents were busy dropping them off and making plans for pick up.
When you caught a glimpse of massive, outstretched wings, you felt a shock spark through your entire body.
Again? He was really dropping Nyx off again?
It had only been a few days since you had last seen him. Not nearly enough time to catch your breath, to force thoughts of him out of your mind.
That tug in your chest, that string urging you closer to him, was relentless.
You understood now, how people had been driven to madness after their mating bond had been rejected. It took everything you had in you to stay put, to keep yourself from running to him.
His bright smile as he approached, his eyes locked on yours, made your heart hurt.
“Hey,” he said, ushering Nyx into the building with a gentle nudge.
“Hi,” you said quietly, noticing now that nearly everyone had already gone inside or left. You were alone with Cassian.
He cleared his throat, shifting his weight back and forth between his feet. Was he… nervous?
“So,” he said, then laughed lightly, turning his face to the mountains surrounding the city, scratching the back of his neck.
“Cassian?” You asked, confused, and honestly, slightly impatient. You only had a few minutes to get to your class.
He leveled his gaze back to you again, his eyes twinkling in the sun. “Do you want to get dinner?”
That had not been what you were expecting, and you felt like your breath was completely caught in your throat.
Cassian seemed to take your surprise for something else because he started talking again, quickly, like he couldn't get it out fast enough, “Unless you don't want to. It's not a big deal, I was just thinking --”
“Yes,” you cut him off, and he looked relieved, his taut shoulders visibly relaxing.
“You're sure?”
You couldn't keep the smile off your face. “Very sure.”
His face lit up with a grin then, and you had to bite your lip to keep from grinning yourself. You balled your hands into fists at your sides, worried that if you didn't, you would launch yourself at him.
The two of you agreed on a time and a place, and then he was off, and you once again, had to go teach a classroom full of kids as if nothing remarkable had just happened.
By the time dinner with Cassian rolled around, you had convinced yourself that it was definitely not a date. Probably.
Just… casual dinner between two people who barely knew each other. Acquaintances went out for dinner all the time, right?
You forced yourself to take a deep breath as you waited outside the restaurant, your fingers toying with the hem of your dress that you had finally decided on, after trying on nearly every piece of clothing that you owned.
It was a habit of yours to always arrive early, and yet, you only waited a few minutes before Cassian sauntered up to you, like he didn’t have a care in the world. For about the millionth time, you wondered how it was possible that the two of you had been chosen as mates. You couldn’t be more different.
Cassian’s smile was bright when he was finally towering over you, greeting you with the usual pleasantries before placing his hand on the small of your back and leading you inside.
Your heart pounded in your chest at the contact. He hadn’t touched you since that first handshake, the touch that made the bond snap into place for you, like nothing you had ever felt before.
You wondered if it would do the same for him someday. What would his reaction be if he knew?
Disappointed, surely. Confused. Upset?
It was one thing to ask someone to dinner, but to be mates? To be tethered to somebody for life? You suddenly couldn’t bear the thought of him finding out.
Your mind was spinning by the time the two of you took your seats, and his brow furrowed in concern as his gaze settled on you. “Are you alright?”
You tried to brighten your expression, cursing your face for always being so easy to read. “Fine,” you said, and the smile became easier, more genuine, the longer that you looked at him. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind, I guess. It’s hard to shut it off.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “I understand. Do you want to talk about it?”
You winced. “Not really. It’s not that interesting, anyway,” you said, waving a hand dismissively. “How are you?” you asked, before you could accidentally reveal something you would regret.
The corner of his mouth turned up into a small smile, his gaze locked on you. “Why do you do that? Dismiss yourself so casually?”
“What do you mean?”
“You act like what you do isn’t important, or like your feelings don’t matter.” He leaned in closer, bracing his forearms on the table in front of him. “But it’s not true. You have one of the most important jobs… ever. And from what I can tell, you’re really good at it.”
He relaxed his stance, leaning back in his chair again, his eyes never wavering from yours. “You don’t have to talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you. But, I won’t let you act like it doesn’t matter, because it does.”
Stunned, you opened your mouth, completely unable to form a response. How could he read you so clearly? And why did he care so much?
Finally, all you could say was, “You don’t even know me.”
Cassian’s smile grew slowly. “I know enough. And I’d like to know more.”
The look on his face, the gravel in his voice, the words that he spoke, made heat rush to your cheeks. His smile only widened.
“What do you want to know?”
---
Cassian couldn’t wipe the grin off his face after that date with you. You had talked for ages, the two of you, and he didn’t think he had ever been so enamored by somebody. You told him all about your family, your friends, how you grew up, your favorite hideout in Velaris, when you just needed to get away from it all. And he had done the same, admittedly, showing off a little with stories from being in Rhysand's trusted inner circle.
But you didn’t fawn over him like some women did. You sat and listened, your eyes widening at all the right times, but it was like you really saw him. Not the version of him that people talk about in battle, but just… Cassian.
And he really liked that.
For weeks, you had consumed his every waking thought and, frankly, several of his dreams. The way you blushed when he smiled at you, the slight tilt of your head when you watched him animatedly tell stories, the way your eyes lit up when you saw him… all of it was driving him completely mad. He saw you as much as he could in those weeks, and though you seemed reluctant to show it, he could tell that you were excited to see him, too.
Winter was almost upon Velaris, and the air was crisp, but the sun was bright as Cassian sauntered up to the school, hoping that your afternoon was free and he could steal you away for lunch.
The sun's rays were shining on you like a beacon and he couldn't help but stare as you crouched down to be face to face with a kid, your smile bright as you undoubtedly said something encouraging to him.
In that moment, he felt like the ground was swaying beneath him as the bond snapped into place.
The bond that tethered you to him, that confirmed what he had been feeling all these weeks, that proved you were meant to be his.
For a moment, he was ecstatic, but that moment ended quickly as he suddenly remembered that first time you met, the way your eyes widened in shock as he touched you for the first time… you knew. You had known this whole time and you hadn't told him.
Did you not want to be his mate? Did you think it was a bad match? If that were the case, why on earth had you been spending so much time with him?
He stood frozen in place until the crowd of parents and kids had mostly cleared, his thoughts whirling.
Your eyes lit up when you noticed Cassian, but your face fell when you noticed his expression.
He could tell that you figured it out. That he knew. And that he knew you knew.
His heart broke as your eyes flooded with panic, and you turned from him, hurrying away without another glance.
Cassian followed, half debating flying above the city so he could see easier where you were going.
But before long, he knew your destination anyway.
You had told him weeks ago about the beach that you often went to when you needed to clear your head.
When he approached, you were sitting facing the river, your arms wrapped around yourself. The rocks beneath his boots cracked together and alerted you immediately to his presence, but you didn't turn around.
He sat next to you, wincing a bit as a rock dug into his thigh, careful to tuck his wings in so they wouldn't brush against you.
Your eyes remained on the water for a few moments, a storm inside them.
Finally, Cassian said, “Why didn't you tell me?”
Thinking, you bit your lip, and despite everything, it made his heart swell.
“I didn't think you would want to know,” you said, your voice small.
It took an effort not to physically reel back like you had slapped him. He fought to keep his voice calm. “Why not?"
You let out a humorless laugh, still not so much as glancing in his direction. “Why do you think?”
Cassian furrowed his brow, wracking his brain for any indication he may have accidentally given you that would make you think he wouldn't want to be your mate, but he came up with nothing. “I don't know,” he finally said. “Did I do something?”
Your eyes finally met his then, and he felt the urge to cry for the first time in centuries. You looked so defeated, so pained. What had he done to make you react this way?
“No, it's not that, it's…” you bit your lip, your brow furrowed as you held his gaze. “Cassian, you're a warrior. You're in charge of armies, you're one of the most powerful Illyrians of all time, you've literally made history. And I'm…” you gestured to yourself, “I'm nothing compared to you.” You shook your head, facing the water again. “I hid it from you because it doesn't make sense. It must be a mistake.”
Cassian's heart pounded in his ears as he tried to make sense of it. “How could you think it's a mistake?” He said, his voice wavering, but he pushed past it. “How could you think that way about yourself?”
His heart broke when he heard you sniffle, still avoiding his gaze.
Gently, he took your chin between his fingers and urged you to look at him. “It's not a mistake,” he said quietly. “I haven't been able to get you out of my head since the moment I saw you. Do you know why?”
Your bottom lip trembled and you shook your head as much as you could while he was still holding your chin.
“You're incredible. You're endlessly kind and patient. You dedicate your life to helping kids and teaching them how to be who they're meant to be. There wouldn't be armies to lead or healers to fix us after battle, or anything else, if we didn't have teachers leading us along the way.”
Your eyes softened then, and Cassian nearly sighed with relief but he kept pushing, to be sure you would believe what he was telling you. “And gods, you're beautiful,” he smiled, stroking his thumb across your bottom lip. “You drive me crazy.”
A laugh bubbled from your throat and his heart leaped. He shifted his hands so they were cupping your face. “We're meant to be together, you and me. It's not a mistake. And I don't want to hear you talk about yourself like that again.”
You nodded, smiling, looking up at Cassian with stars in your eyes. “I just can't believe you want me.”
“Well, believe it, because it's true,” he murmured, leaning in so his lips brushed the shell of your ear, “I want you more than I've ever wanted anything.”
He felt your breath hitch, and just then it started to snow lightly, the small flakes sticking to your eyelashes and in your hair.
“I want you too, Cassian,” you said quietly before cupping your hand around the back of his neck and pulling him closer, bringing your lips to his.
Cassian couldn't stop his groan as he pulled you closer, kissing you the way he'd been wanting to for weeks.
When you finally parted to catch your breath, he pulled you to his side, and you rested your head on his shoulder as the two of you looked out across the water, the snow still gently drifting down.
It didn't feel real, that he had finally found his mate, the one he was meant to be with. And it was you, who had been consuming his thoughts since the moment you met.
He felt so, so unbelievably lucky and he prayed that you felt the same way about him.
@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @hanuh @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @ecliphttlunar @melmo567 @headacheseason @sillysillygoose444 @halibshepherd @cigvrette-dvydrevms @lilah-asteria @marina468 @evergreenlark @bookloverandalsocats @yourqueenlilith @mariamay02 @azrielshadows1nger @andreperez11
#acotar fic#acotar one shot#acotar x reader#acotar#cassian#Cassian acotar#Cassian x reader#cassian x you#cassian fanfic#cassian fic#cassian imagine#cassian fluff#acotar fluff#cassian one shot#cassian x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
"I guess no one ever taught you how to be a real man."
cw. : none - gaz x reader
the ice in your glass has started to melt, watering down the drink you’ve barely touched. you don’t know why you’re still sitting here—maybe out of spite, maybe because you’re not ready to go home and admit to yourself that you’ve been stood up. again.
it’s always the same. boys who don’t have the decency to be honest, who think half-hearted effort counts as charm. you’re so sick of them. sick of waiting on men who don’t know how to act like men.
laughter erupts from the corner of the bar, a group of rowdy guys in fatigues and plain tees, the type that carry themselves like they own the room. military, most likely. you ignore them, focusing instead on the slow circles your fingertip traces around the rim of your glass.
“rough night?”
the voice is smooth, laced with amusement but not mocking. you glance up as a man slides onto the barstool beside you with understated confidence. dark skin, sharp brown eyes, a smirk that looks far too good on his face.
you exhale, shaking your head. “something like that.” you hesitate before adding, “stood up.”
he huffs, a quiet noise of annoyance, shaking his head as he settles into the seat beside you. “dickhead.” the way he says it, all matter-of-fact—makes you huff out a laugh, even as a bitter edge lingers in your chest.
a beat passes before he says, “did you know penguins propose to their mates with a pebble?”
you blink at him, caught off guard. “what?”
he lifts his hands like he’s swearing an oath. “swear it. find the perfect pebble, drop it at their feet—bam. lifelong commitment.”
it pulls a laugh from you, sudden and genuine, shaking your head as you finally take a sip of your drink. “that easy, huh?”
he grins, then. “well, i’m not proposing, but—” he reaches into his pocket, fishing around before pulling something out and setting it on the table between you. a tiny pebble, the kind that would get stuck in the grooves of your shoe. his voice is softer now, but sure. “i’d like to take you out proper, if you’d have me.”
you stare at the pebble, then at him. he doesn’t waver, just watches you with that easy confidence, like he already knows the answer. you nod. just once, but it’s enough.
looks like you’ve got yourself real man.
mlist | lyrics mlist
#♱ angel’s writing#everyone say thank you beabadoobee#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#gaz cod#gaz#gaz call of duty#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle garrick#kyle garrick headcanon#kyle gaz x reader
499 notes
·
View notes
Text
Frat Boy!Gojo
Old Fashioned: swallow that bitter taste
Word Count: 2.7k Contents: angst, cursing, some dark themes, which include slut shaming, abuse, both physical and verbal, threat of violence, not proofread
The beep beep beep that echoes around the empty, dusty room strikes at your equally empty and equally dusty heart. You try to visit the hospital as often as your schedule permits, but these days, with all the wedding preparations, you could really only dedicate an hour every Thursday, between lectures.
It’s pathetic. He deserves better than this half-hearted display of love and guilt, the natural combination. If he was awake, he’d undoubtedly make a snarky comment about how the wilting flowers you can barely afford is a representation of your friendship going down the drain because he obviously deserves more than carnations, of all flowers.
Oh, how you wish he could tell you off right now.
“Hi, Asahi. You’re looking shittier than last time,” you muse with a chuckle, a shaky smile pulling at your lips.
There he is, lying in some drab hospital gown, tucked all nice and warm in a rigid bed, with only you, a dull lump of black lace as his only company. He can’t roll his eyes at your pitiful tone or fire back some insult about how your eyeliner is far too thick for your eyes and you more closely resembles a panda than any sexy vampire you’ve been trying to simulate.
“Remember the boy I’ve been telling you about? Well, we got into a bit of a disagreement the other night. I don’t know, I guess he got fed up with this play acting thing we’re doing. And I don’t really blame him, y’know? We’re barely adults and we’re getting married. Isn’t that crazy? God, I wish you could be there, you can laugh at me and throw rice or confetti or whatever it is they do nowadays. Maybe even purposefully get it in my eye, knowing you.”
No reply.
Just like all those times before, there is never a reply, only a beep beep beeping that drives you crazy and you can never seem to tune out, try as you might. Sometimes, at night, you hear that mocking sound hooking itself into your spine and carrying you away from the guiltless comfort of sleep.
With a sigh, you carry on. “Well, anyways, I think you’d really like him. He’s a little stupid. Okay, maybe a lot stupid, but I don’t know, I think it’s endearing. He has these annoying eyes that are just so bright and God, do you ever just wanna rip off someone’s eyes and stomp on them because they’re too dazzling? ‘Cause I do. Every time, I look at his. And his laugh. Oh, God. You won’t believe it. It’s the most obnoxious sound in the entire world. I actually get nightmares, I swear. He laughs like he doesn’t care how loud he is, like he thinks people should laugh more, like it’s a crime not to find laughing easy. What an idiot, right?”
You don’t mention how since that evening, he hasn’t blown up your phone like he usually does, in fact you received no notifications from him at all. Within the first hour or two, you thought he still needed some space, and you understood. But then as hours turned into a whole night, then a whole morning, then a day and another, you started to think that maybe, just maybe, he’ll never text you again.
And can you blame him?
He wasn’t wrong, about him being used. From the very beginning, he always represented wealth and what that can bring. Surely, he was aware that even if people did genuinely like him for who he is, the strength of his name, of what courses through his blood, will always hang in the air, this infinite void shielding him from everyone who tries to get too close only to end up further and further away.
“I think I should apologise and give him that second date he’s been begging me for. Yeah, actually begging. I told you he’s stupid.” Your voice is trailing off, a slight wobble that you can’t seem to command away. “I think I hurt his feelings. I know, surprise surprise. But I just can’t help but feel like, out of everyone involved in this thing, he’s the least deserving, y’know? Ugh, I’ll talk to the guy when I run into him on campus — he’s kinda hard to miss.”
Even paralysed and in a coma, you’re certain Asahi can tell you aren’t convincing yourself with the fake bravado. Truthfully, you’re not sure you could bring yourself to mutter an apology. No, it isn’t that. You can’t bring yourself to come face to face with him, lest you see something that doesn’t quite match up with your vision of a sincere expression of happiness, at seeing you.
Fiddling with a loose thread on your dress, you pull it taut, tighter and tighter, until it snaps.
“Here again?”
Your head snaps back.
“Mother, w-what are you doing here?”
Beep beep beep.
She waltzes in, clasping her snakeskin handbag closer to her, as if the cramped room would snatch it off her manicured hands. Burgundy pencil skirt clashing with her neon blouse, those staple bright red lips curl into something that makes you gulp. You don’t dare bring up the fact that she desperately needs a stylist — that is the least of your issues.
Pursing her lips, her disapproving eyes roves over your body, before she scoffs and looks away, focusing instead on a framed print photo of tomato soup cans in all sorts of colours. You shuffle in your seat, the plastic squeaking.
“You’ve disappointed me once again,” she begins, settling her bag on the table where your flowers droop over the vase. You recognise this tone of hers, the one that’s too calm, too flat to ever mean anything other than trouble. “You were given one task and one task only, and somehow, either by natural ineptitude or wilful rebellion, you’ve failed at something so simple. Goodness, what ever did happen to that brain of yours?”
It’s clear she isn’t here to chat about the weather, so you stand up, pulling a glove further up your wrist and exhale as quietly as you can.
“Now, mother, I know the dinner didn’t end very well, but he just needs a second to cool down and then he’ll be on board again. I’ll go on another date with him and show him we can work together. I’ll fix it, I swear.”
Her glare pierces you, forcing you to stumble back.
Scoffing, she waves a hand in the air. “‘Fix it?’ You will fix it? God, Y/N. It is not the time for your sarcastic little jokes. You can’t fix anything. You proved that the other night with whatever you had texted him as we made plans for your wedding.”
“Y-you knew?”
The laugh that escapes her lacks any real joy — the only one she’s capable of. Cold, mocking and scathing, you can do nothing but wince under its weight.
“It’s hard to not notice you typing away under the table like some whore playing footsie! I raised you better than that, no? Where did all those etiquette lessons go anyways? Hmm? It’s certainly not towards your uncouth behaviour. Goodness, look at you. You’re in your final year of university and you still haven’t matured.”
When she gets into these rants, there’s no stopping her. You learnt that when she snapped at you for tripping on your own dress in front of a ballroom of people at the age of eight, and at twelve when she overheard you use a swear word with a friend.
“Still bumbling about, pretending to be indifferent and nihilistic, like some child playing dress up. And what have I said about this all black look? You look ridiculous and not to mention hideous. When are you going to grow out of this phase? You couldn’t even lose those repulsive piercings? Even just for a couple dinners? Maybe if you did, the Gojos would have been more keen to welcome you into their family.”
Beep beep beep.
She continues, taking a step closer towards you, and you feel the room get smaller like the walls are shifting in, “We had him. Him and the rest of his family in the palm of our hands. You were so close to marrying him and fixing all our problems and then you ruined it. This is all your fault.”
Your mother’s voice grows louder, pitchier, more shrill, and you clutch your dress tight in your fists. She’s been drinking. You don’t know how you didn’t notice until now but she reeks of alcohol. Perhaps, the natural smell of death and deep levels of sanitation that permeates the air of this hospital masked that scent of hers she never bothered to try to shake off.
“Why couldn’t you just be a good girl, hmm?” Her hand reaches for your face and you flinch. Ice cold, her touch brings the hairs on the back of your neck to a standstill. It’s been many years since she had last touched you, in any kind of soft, maternal way at least, and this foreign feeling leaves you holding your breath.
“Why couldn’t you just give him what he wanted? Flirt a little, flash him a smile, slide those legs and let him take what he needed. Anything! Anything to make him yours. The way I did with your father.”
Falling to your chest, her hand curls, digging itself into your dress and you stagger forward with her powerful yank. You gasp. And then, eyes wide, you clutch your heart, watching the lace collar that had once been a part of you dangle in her grasp. She casts it aside.
A cry rises up her throat, like bile, and she spews it at you. “Boys like him only want one thing, my dear. Do you know what it is? Did I ever teach you?”
Her nails are sharp.
You notice that as she leans forward, skimming them against your cheek once more. Clammy, you feel the material of your gloves stick to your skin and you feel a sudden itch to keep it on even in death. There’s no one here. Nurses rarely come to check up on this room, not when the patient has so little wants and needs. And there’s not anyone you can text and call, no one who’d understand, who’d come at the drop of a hat.
“Answer me!”
She wrenches your sleeve in a blur, her movements jerky and sudden and too unpredictable. That too falls to the ground, lifeless.
Beep beep beep.
Bottom lip quivering, you stammer out, “S-sex?”
You feel the burn of your cheek before you hear the sound of her palm strike you. And you sob with her, just as she soothes the skin with a cooing sound. Her expression softens and for a second, no more and no less, she actually looks like a mother.
“No, my dear. All boys, whether that Gojo boy’s age or your father’s, want thrill. They’ll seek it anywhere. If not from their wives, then from common whores, or from sports cars, or violence, or casinos, like your daddy — it’s why we needed you to marry that boy, remember? We have no money, our family’s fortune is scattered in the vaults of seedy casinos all over the city. We needed their money, to get back to where we used to be. They were our last chance.”
“L-last? B-but the wedding’s still happening, isn’t it?”
Was that even your voice?
It sounded so meek, so frail, so young.
“No, dear.” Her smile is sharp, one corner stabbing into your heart and the other twisting. “This morning, your little fiancé went to the press and informed them that you two were so-called victims of a forced engagement and would like the public’s support to maintain your ‘liberty’. The Gojos have already begun doing damage control, claiming that you broke up with him and he’s a classic college student — drunk and seeking revenge. So that’s that of your love story. Such a shame.”
Beep beep beep.
“B-but he wouldn’t. No, he wants to be with me, h-he just needed some time to cool down.”
You’re running out of breath, you can feel it seeping out of your lungs. It’s too tight in here, there are too many machines making all sorts of noises, and you just need air, you need something, anything. There’s nothing to clutch, nowhere to lean against, and when you turn to the one other person there, the eyes you wish would look at you aren’t.
Beep beep beep.
There’s simply no way Satoru would go to the media. No, he was finally accepting the marriage, accepting you. You were so sure of it. It was clear as day in his eyes. You could even feel it pulse in that minuscule gap between you when he had fitted your gloves back onto your hands.
He can’t be done with you.
He just can’t.
Beep beep beep.
Holding up a bedpan, she inspects her face in the reflection and her lips purse once more. Taunting, she giggles. “Oh, but all women learn eventually that time does nothing for us.”
She’s ran out of steam, much faster than she usually does, and even though parts of your dress lay in tatters on the hospital floor, you feel fortunate that she hadn’t decided to rip out your heart instead. You’re not sure she’d find anything in your chest cavity anyways.
Detached once more, she slurs with bewildering high, “Don’t look so devastated, goodness. You’ll forget all about that Gojo boy soon. You must. Because you’ll be marrying into the Zenins. A nice, young man, just a little older than you. I believe his name is Naoya.”
The blood drains from your body.
“No,” you gasp out. “No, mother. I can’t. H-he’s abusive. You know this. Everyone knows this. He’s sadistic and cruel a-and —“
Beep beep beep.
“And he’s on the market looking for a wife.” She cuts you a look, one that forces your mouth shut. It’s a talent of hers. “The Zenins reached out. Apparently, whatever’s good enough for the Gojo’s is good enough for them. What great luck, wouldn’t you agree, my dear?”
Beep beep beep.
You’ve heard stories of how he used women like dolls, dressing them up and tearing them down as he pleased. There’s always scandals and blind items making rounds online about girls he’d left battered and bruised, disoriented and silenced by copious amounts of money. A man like him would never love you. He’d never even respect you.
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew it would turn out like this. Having met the man once, at some yacht, a couple years ago, you recall the pure repulsion in his eyes when you bumped into him. He saw the beginnings of your true style coming in, like adult teeth, and something flashed in his eyes. A recognition of your rarity in these parts. A sparkle of challenge. A barely restrained desire.
You could never forget the way he had looked at you — you were a trophy at the end of a marathon and there was a spot in his collection waiting just for you.
Like a fool, a naive, pathetic little fool, you thought you had outran him. That, in the arms of another man, a stronger, richer man, you’d be safe. But that man doesn’t want anything to do with you.
You’re alone.
Beep beep beep.
Sighing, she makes a tutting sound and focuses back on you. “I did say to behave, no? I told you it was in our best interest that you drag that boy up to the altar no matter what, and you failed your duty as a daughter. This is the consequences of your actions, dear. But despite your frightening appearance, you’re still desired. How nice. So, smile, yes? You’re getting married, after all.”
A machine flatlines. It’s not Asahi’s heart who fails and dies right there and then. You don’t even hear anything but that incessant beeeeeeeeeeeeep that knocks you back into your seat, jaw slack and cheek stinging.
“When?”
She smiles again.
“Tomorrow!”
#jjk angst#Gojo x reader#gojo angst#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jjk fic#jjk x you#gojo satoru#modern au
528 notes
·
View notes
Text
Second Time's The Charm XI
Alexia Putellas x Reader
Summary: An old face watches a match
She wasn't as young as she once was.
Teaching hadn't originally been her first choice as a job but after finishing school and spending a few years bored senseless as a receptionist, at age twenty-five, she'd made the change to teaching children in their first year of school.
Now, twenty-five years later, she was getting older and her students seemed to be just as wild and excitable as they always had been.
This school trip hadn't exactly been planned by the school, not fully anyway but a generous donation from who knows where had her and a few other teachers taking a three classes of wiggling and excited five year olds to a home match for the Barcelona women's team.
"Let's get to our seats now," She says, trying to get everyone in her class seated and happy but it's like trying to fight a group of wet cats - a losing battle.
"Miss, he pushed me!"
"Miss, I want to sit with my friends!"
"Miss, I can't find my bracelet!"
"Miss, my Mami gave me spending money!"
"Miss!"
"Miss!"
"Miss!"
She sighs to herself, rattling off instructions in a way that only a practiced teacher could.
"Lucas, stop pushing people. We use our nice hands with people. Isabella, you can sit next to your friends if there's space. Ana, your bracelet got put into your bag. Pedro, spending money can be used at half time. Now, everyone needs to sit down or else they won't start the match!"
It takes a little while to get all the kids settled and she briefly thinks about how this would be a hell of a lot easier if the school had more people who could chaperone.
It's a fleeting thought because she knows she can't do anything about it now but still, it would be nice.
Nice like it is now to watch one of her old students walk out as one of the most well known footballers not only in Spain but the world as well.
Alexia Putellas, the captain of Barcelona, leads her team out - head held high and back straight. A far cry from the little girl that used to slump in her seat in class and cry when someone took her ball at breaktime.
There weren't many students that she remembered so well - a handful that have ended up in politics, one that somehow ended up at the UN and one whose arrest made national news.
But Alexia was one of the good ones, helpful and polite most of the time.
She can remember though, with startlingly clarity the second day of classes.
It had been her second day as a teacher ever and she'd been supervising the playground at lunch when Alexia had appeared and dragged her off.
She'd dragged her all the way to the slide where you'd been waiting.
"You have to marry us, Miss," Alexia had said, eyes wide and incredibly earnest," We want to get married."
"Er..."
"You have to, miss," You'd joined in," Because we're in love and my Papa always said that people in love get married."
She'd been speechless then but still done as you and Alexia said, a little charmed by those two little girls begging to be married under the slide.
Alexia was easy to follow now, her exploits known throughout the country on and off the pitch. You'd faded though and your old teacher wasn't quite sure where you'd ended up.
Likely something successful and important.
Even as a little girl, you'd had a good work ethic. Work before play, always, was something you'd abided by.
She could see you as something important now. Your parents were doctors, she's pretty sure, so maybe you followed in their footsteps.
It would suit you, she thinks as she watches Alexia slam the ball into the net for a third time today.
Barcelona wins.
But that's entirely to be expected.
What isn't expected though, is for the staff from the team to invite the classes down onto the pitch to meet the players.
"Carlos, don't run! Mia, don't yell over someone! Lucas, again! Stop pushing people! Everyone will get a turn!"
"Some things never change then."
She turns with a smile. "Alexia."
"Hi, Miss."
"You don't have to call me that anymore."
Alexia's brow wrinkles. "What else would I call you? You've always been my teacher."
"You're an adult now, Alexia. You don't have to call me that anymore if you don't want to."
"But I do. Is that alright?"
"That's okay. So long as you want to."
Alexia beams, the same big smile she had as a five year old when she would come to the desk with a picture she drew of herself in the Barcelona kit.
It's still strange to see that exact image in real life.
"I'd like to introduce you to one of my daughters. This is Maya."
"She's beautiful."
"Mi Amor is just changing our other daughter. They'll be out in a minute."
"It's nice to see that you're doing so well. A good job. A nice family."
"We have dogs too! And my wife's old cat! She built me a house, you know? My wife, that is. Not her cat."
It's nice to see that Alexia's word vomit from her childhood hadn't changed much either. She was so stoic and quiet most of the time but any topic that drew her interest could be (and would be) talked about for hours at a time.
"That's nice to hear, Alexia."
"And we bought a villa in Greece for our next holiday! And I bought her this nice matching bracelet and necklace set! But! You can't tell her because it's going to be a surprise!"
"A special occasion?"
Alexia looks affronted at the idea. "I don't need a special occasion to show my wife how much I love her! Just my love!" She turns, glancing over her shoulder and her whole face lights up. "Oh! Amor, you're back! Look, Miss Rivera is here!"
Miss Rivera looks over to the tunnel where you have emerged from, a babbling baby on your hip and a rock of a ring on your hand.
"Oh, hi, Miss!"
She sighs. "I told Alexia that you two don't need to call me that anymore."
You frown. "But you've always been our teacher. What else would we call you?"
"Miss, this is our new baby Elena." Alexia puffs out her chest proudly. "My wife gave birth to her. Doesn't she look good for giving birth a few months ago?"
You slap her on the shoulder before pressing a kiss to where you just slapped. "Don't listen to her, Miss. She'll take any excuse to talk about it."
Alexia nods solemnly. "It was very scary because there were complications but she's doing so well now. Both Elena and my wife. Right, Amor? She's a doctor, you know. Very successful."
Again, Alexia seems to preen like a peacock as if you being so successful and so smart brought her such pride.
"You've both been very successful," Miss Rivera says," I'm so proud. A long way from that marriage under the slide, huh?"
You grin, intertwining your fingers with Alexia's.
"But still married."
#woso x reader#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas#woso community#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso
641 notes
·
View notes
Text
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Simon needing to hold you after a bad day.
The tiny apartment was completely silent as Simon unlocked the door and stepped inside, head hung low and shoulders tense. Lights were turned down, tv was off; you were most likely already asleep by now. It was late, much later than he had told you he’d be back, but he had been struggling with the weight of his thoughts again today and had barely made it in. He would have let you know that he was going to be late… it was just…he couldn’t find the will to even shoot you a quick text.
It wasn’t like him to be concerned about who knew where he was or what he was doing, choosing to distance himself from everything and everyone that could potentially catch a glimpse of him cracking behind the mask, but right now all he wanted was to get back to the place he called home before he fell apart and the world would swallow him whole.
As quietly as he could he set his things down beside the door and continued on through the flat, catching little bits of you everywhere: your shoes lying scattered by the wall, the blanket you’d just been curled up in tossed haphazardly in a bundle on the sofa, a mug on the coffee table that had the remnants of your drink stuck to the inside. Scattered bits of you everywhere across his life as little reminders of what he had that waited for him here and for the first time all day it felt a little easier to breathe to know his angel was close by.
Passing near the kitchen, Simon spotted a piece of paper with his name scribbled on the front waiting for him on the countertop, your familiar handwriting obvious to his eye. He picked it up and unfolded it.
Hey baby,
I really tried to stay up, I promise, but you know how work has been kicking my ass lately. I thought maybe I could just take a nap until you got in, but I was worried that if I laid down I wouldn’t wake up, so I thought I’d leave this here for you to find. Didn’t want you to think I forgot about you. Just wake me when you get in, alright? I don’t care what time it is, I want to see you!
Love you.
P.S. I left some dinner in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet. We can reheat it and eat it together. XOXO
Christ, what did he do to deserve all this?
Always looking out for him, always making sure he had a place back in the real world whenever he came home. He held that piece of paper between his hardened fingers, the note more significant than it should have been after the type of day he had. You were the closest to heaven as he could get, more than he ever thought he would get to have and that’s why it was you he was trying to break down that wall to come to for comfort.
His sight flicked to the fridge where you said you’d left him something; he was definitely starving, but just the thought of the effort it would take to eat right now was too much and the knot that rested in the pit of his stomach made him too nauseous anyway. There was something that would fill him far better than food could and he knew just where to find it now.
Moving on to the living room, he set himself down heavily on the couch and began to remove his boots and the outer layers of his clothing along with his mask, stripping away all the bits of his life as the stone cold sniper now that he was safe here in his little sanctuary. Stripped bare until he was down to his boxers, Simon gently crept towards the back of the apartment hoping he would make it to the bedroom before this feeling took him.
Closer and closer he walked towards the other half of his heart.
The door stood slightly ajar to invite him inside and as he stepped up to it, he caught the hushed, rhythmic sounds of your breathing as you slumbered. It sounded so peaceful that he could have stood there in the dimly lit hallway and listen to it all night long. Just a few more steps, barely any distance left, and he would truly be home.
The room was completely dark save for the small crack in the curtains that let in just a bit of light from the streetlamp outside, helping him to find his way through the maze of darkness. As those brown eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Simon turned his attention to the bed and his heart skipped a beat. There you were: the outline of your body silhouetted under the covers, your head buried in your pillow, all cares left behind as you slept.
No sound did he make as he crept to the edge of the bed and lifted the sheets so that he could climb inside and up against your body laying in the center. One strong arm slipped up under your pillowed head while the other wrapped around your waist until you were encircled and he pulled you slowly so that your back rested up against his chest. His body molded into yours still warm from being wrapped up tight.
You stirred awake gently at the feeling of that familiar large body suddenly laying beside you. “Hey you,” you whispered sleepily, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered as they worked to open. “Tried to wait up, but I got so tired I had to go lay down. I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you.”
Only silence greeted you as a response. No chuckle at your predictability, no picking remarks about how you couldn’t even stay up to see him, just the sound of labored breaths in and out as he lay there in the darkness curled up against you.
Silence only meant one thing and you knew it well.
“You okay baby?” you asked, but again there was no answer. Only the squeeze of his arm around your waist pulling you in tighter to his chest gave you any sort of reply as Simon’s nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes brushing over your skin.
It was clear just from the silence that he was far from okay, that he must have been bottling this up for God knows how many hours so that the world would not see that he was not always the tough, put together soldier he was supposed to be. But he could not hide it from you...he didn't want to hide it from you.
You heard him inhale deeply, trying to capture as much of your scent as he could until it filled his head: your natural musk mixed with the smell of the sheets and added hints of shampoo and body wash. That comforting scent that belonged to only you that he couldn't ever get enough of, the one that helped to relax his troubled mind. Instantly the tension he had been carrying like a boulder upon his shoulders all day finally released him from its stranglehold.
Gentle, exploring hands tentatively went up under your baggy shirt, one of his old worn ones you loved to wear to bed to keep him close even when he wasn’t there, as he just wanted to make contact with all that delicately soft skin. He traced over curved paths he knew by touch alone: it was soft, it was familiar, it was safe and his heartbeat slowed as the ache in his chest dissipated enough that he could finally talk.
“Bad day,” he whispered finally, warm breath against your shoulder. "Really fuckin' bad day... again."
You rolled over in his arms until you came face to face with those sad auburn eyes, moved by the shame in his tone. It broke your heart that each time he had one of these days he felt such guilt about it, as if he simply should have been over it all by now, as if he wasn't human, but you were not about to let him overthink the struggle. There was nothing to be shameful about.
“I’m sorry baby. These things just happen, you know, but its alright; we'll get through it together, ” you said quietly, fingertips gently running over the line of his eyebrow, down his cheekbone and further to his jaw in soothing circles.
Together.
Simon closed his eyes and eased into your hand as you traced patterns across his temple and through the cropped sides of his hair, letting the vile, churning thoughts rummaging around in his brain to fall away. No one else could ever see him like this save for you, no one else's touch he craved more than anything to bring him back into himself after the day had brought him down so low.
He brought his hand up and placed the tough palm over top of yours to hold it firmly against his cheek as if to make sure that all of this was real, that you were not simply a mirage cast by his broken mind.
“You’re home now, baby,” you reassured him as he took deep breaths in and out with his eyes closed, only wanting to feel you. “It’s gonna be okay, I got you.”
Home, still such a strange word for him.
Wherever you were that was home. Not a place, but a person, one who made certain that no matter how far he drifted she would always pull him back in. Simon had never had such a tether before, but fuck did he need it. He could feel it like medicine running through his blood, when you held him he could feel the chemicals rush to soothe the gaping wound in his heart.
Pulling your hand off his cheek, he brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the surface before leaning in to give one to your gentle lips. You embraced him back with such tenderness as if to remind him of that promise you had made to each other that neither of you would have to traverse the hell of this world alone.
“Home,” he repeated the tender word in his gravely tone, letting the emotionless second mask fall away. "I hope ya know... that you are my home, sweetheart."
You smiled. "You're mine too, Simon."
He took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "Bein' near ya is the only fuckin' thing that seems to help quiet the shit in my 'ead these days."
Pulling him back in, you gave him another kiss. "Then get nice and close," you said softly as you squirmed up under him more, setting his arm back over you.
Securing his arms around you again he moved over top of you so that his head rested against the middle of your chest, ear pressed in against your sternum to listen to your heartbeat rhythmically thump inside. With his hand still inside your shirt he drew his fingertips along your bare hips, not wanting anything more than your company tonight.
Your calming fingers ran through his short hair and over his scalp as he counted the beats of your heart until he melted into your body. Discussion could happen later if and when he was ready, for now this was all he needed. However long he wanted to cling to your torso, you’d let him.
You were his life raft, pulling him back in and no matter how far he drifted and it was because of you that for the first time in his life he didn’t feel like he was going to get lost.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#call of duty#ghost cod#ghost mw2#cod mw2#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simin ghost riley#ghost simon riley#simon riley fluff#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost x you#ghost#cod ghost#ghost call of duty
3K notes
·
View notes