infinitegrowth1

[infinitegrowth1]

• an unhealthy obsession • Nate Jacobs •

one. spectacle

Summary: A new school year is about to begin and after reinventing herself into the perfect prey, Ophelia finds herself in Nate Jacobs' crosshairs far sooner than she'd expected, at McKay's end of Summer party.

Warnings: SMUT, drinking, semi-public fingering, implied traumatic childhood.

A/N: 3032 words. Coming out of the gates red hot. This whole fic is very self indulgent, you have been warned. Looking forward to hearing what you guys think about this set up. ❤️

{ masterpost }

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Nate Jacobs was a shockingly easy person to read.

Ophelia Chase, who was no stranger to falling into obsession - whether it was with books, movies, shows, or people - found him to be an incredibly alluring subject for observation, so perhaps it was less that Nate himself was easy to read, and more that Ophelia was a most competent reader. Either way, she'd noticed his apparent saviour complex, his desperate desire to be some kind of hero, especially when it came to Maddie. It had started with this idle thought, a curiosity as to whether she could use it to get him to notice her too.

Ophelia knew in a rather detached way that she has become someone who others would consider objectively hot. It stemmed from being an unfortunately plain and sickly child, which continued for most of her experience being homeschooled through middle school, as did her less than flattering wardrobe and hair choices. Both of which were courtesy of a controlling mother who was struggling with feeling out of control in her own life and making up for it by treating her only daughter like the World's ugliest doll. At least that's what Ophelia had believed for a long time; the sickness that too plagued her childhood, left her feeble and frail and often bedridden was less an act of God, as her mother so often wept, but an act of malice perpetrated by the very same woman. Now, with an entirely too permissive father who travelled for work, and no more poisons being discretely fed to her, to keep her needing the mother who feared her freedom, Ophelia was finally, after years, beginning to come into her own as a teenager.

But she started in the background.

She worked hard to remain unnoticed. At parties hosted by her peers, she dressed well enough not to stand out, but never enough to draw attention to herself. Observing from the sidelines, drink in hand, figuring out the creatures around her, it's how she first properly noticed Nate, not that he was entirely foreign to her to begin with. But the real obsession started when she'd noticed his wandering eyes, clinging to those she hadn't anticipated him being drawn to, always when he knew Maddie wasn't looking. Pretty girls, sweet girls, girls who were surprisingly different to his admittedly beautiful but brash girlfriend.

Maddie was a hurricane of a girl, Ophelia wondered if Nate was trying to tame her like a bucking bull.

Nate wants to be in charge. Wants to be the hero. Wants.

And Ophelia wanted him.

So it started with catching the eye.

It started with dressing the part.

After spending the Summer in Sweden with her father, she gets back a few days before her Senior year starts with high hopes and set intentions. A day at the mall has her set with a whole new wardrobe, and Mckay's party is the first chance she has to try it out. Its a far cry from the baggy jeans and graphic tees she'd spent most of the past few years in. A tight, white t-shirt with the words 'Too Sweet' stretched across her chest, tucked into a high waisted pleated skirt with a flirty hem on her thighs, the look was completed with white, knee high socks and a pair of cherry red flats. Her long, healthy hair was pulled into two messy buns, and she kept her makeup light, apart from the red lip she wore. The perfume, however, was a novelty, aift from her father, sweet and citrusy, from one of his trips to Spain.

If this was to be the debut of the new and eye catching Ophelia Chase, she'd make sure everything was absolutely perfect. She'd even been practicing, for far longer than she was willing to admit, to hide the Southern twang to her accent, mirrored from her father, whom she'd spent most of her time with growing up.

However, when she finally arrived at the party itself, it seemed she still had a lot to learn, considering she was unable to abandon her wallflower ways. Drink in hand, she received no shortage of attention considering her look, but still felt awkward being noticed so much more than she usually was, even after taking a few dexys a pretty boy offered her as she'd headed to the bathroom. Or perhaps they'd made her too aware of how different, how out of place she felt when caught in their gazes.

There was a moment where Nate, who'd she'd been seeing around all night, gorgeous and shirtless, swanning around like he owned the place, actually noticed her. He's drunk, had been since she'd arrived around eleven, but he'd also been pressed up on some girl who definitely wasn't his girlfriend, so Ophelia kept her focus elsewhere. Still, it made her smile; his tumultuous relationship with Maddie apparently wouldn't be a problem tonight. Every cruel aside her mother had hissed long ago about the likes of Nathaniel Jacobs whenever his family had been brought up blow through her mind at once. She often wondered how much of her mother's ire had come from a place of truth; she warned Ophelia that just being near him would spoil her, ruin her, taint her in some terrible, intangible way. As a child, she'd thought that couldn't possibly be true. At seventeen, however, the prospect kind of thrilled her.

Now, she was sitting on the arm of a sofa, pleats of her perfectly white skirt splitting on her thigh as she chatted lightly with a girl she'd seen around school, hanging out with Maddie and Kat; BB. Out of the corner of her eye she spots him in the kitchen, pouring another shot for himself, when he looks up and catches sight of her.

Ophelia's heart is in her throat suddenly -

BB makes an amusing observation about someone across the room, and Ophelia's momentarily caught up in laughter. Its only when BB grins broadly at the laughing girl and announces she's going to get a drink, asking if Ophelia wants one, to which she smiles sweetly and agrees. In her own head, she's wondering if she has time to head outside for a cigarette, and doesn't notice she now has new company before he speaks.

"Cute shirt, is it true?" Giving a start at the sudden voice beside her, Ophelia then looks down for a second, before seeing the 'Too Sweet' emblazoned tightly across her chest. Looking up again, she sees Nate smirking with amusement, "I get the feeling it is."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Like her heart isn't going a hundred miles an hour in her chest. He offers her a shot, one of the two he's holding, eyebrows raised in silent question, silent challenge. Ophelia wet her lips, smiling slyly, attempting to regain her composure, "not sure if I should be accepting drinks from strange men," still, she took it from his hands, heady buzzing in her ears from the brief moment their fingers brush.

They've had multiple classes together since the start of high school.

"I'm Nate," he offered, "now we're not strangers, Too Sweet." He offered his own shot to cheers.

"Fi," she cheerses him, and they both take the shots. Ophelia, who's been drinking around the world for years, isn't bothered by the way it burns, but pretty girls, sweet girls, they're not supposed to take shots like it's nothing. Tequila was always something she enjoyed, though she prefers it with a chaser, it still brought back fond memories of time spent in Mexico with her dad. Ophelia makes a face, shudders a little, and listens to the way Nate laughs at her reaction, pride blooming in her chest at her own performance. He takes the shot glasses and puts them on a nearby table that's already covered in bottles and cups, returning to take the seat BB had just vacated. He's got a hand on her thigh, sliding just up beneath the hem of her skirt.

"How come I've never seen you around before?" He had, Ophelia had just never been worth looking at before now. Feeling uncharacteristically bold, Ophelia shifts, presses her leg into his hand just a little.

"Who says you haven't?"

"Because I'd remember a pretty girl like you," he gives her thigh a squeeze, and Ophelia can feels like she's about to go into cardiac arrest from the way he's looking at her. Everything feels warm and fuzzy and wonderful and Ophelia thinks about how fucking often she'd pictured this moment, this 'first' meeting, but never imagined it going this well. Instead, Ophelia laughs, blush rising on her cheeks.

"Fuck, I thought I was the sweet one," she dropped her gaze.

"You are from where I'm sitting," he wets his lips, once again looking her over, gaze clearly leering. Emboldened as she feels the shot start to hit her, she slid from the arm of the sofa into his lap.

"You wanna check again?" Not in a thousand years could she have imagined how this situation would be playing out. Nate Jacobs' arm around her, Nate Jacobs holding her face, Nate Jacobs running his thumb along her bottom lip as he gazed at her with what she can only describe as want. His thumb comes away clean, her shiny, transfer-proof lipstick proving itself to be true. Ophelia can read the amusement in his eyes, "I didn't want it coming off on my drinks," her blush only grew deeper, despite the fact it was the thinnest truth, self conscious of any alternative situations he may have assumed she was preparing for.

"Too sweet," Nate had muttered faintly with a smirk, Ophelia grinned back, letting him pull her in for a kiss. They're both drunk, Ophelia's head spinning as he nips at her lip, deepens the kiss into something messy and passionate, his tongue in her mouth, hand moving from her face to her thigh. She's not sure when she moved to straddle his lap, but she hears the appreciative way he murmurs, "that's right," against her lips as she wraps her arms around his neck, pressed against him, his hands on her ass.

It was as if her blood was singing in her veins to be in this moment, at this party, already wrapped up in the very boy who's attention she'd designed herself hoping to entice. The future, the concequenses, be damned; she moaned into Nate's mouth as he roughly groped her ass.

One of his hands moves, warm and broad as it trailed back over her thigh beneath her skirt. Nate has always known what he wants, was always rather direct about it too, from what Ophelia had witnessed, and now was no different. When he pushes her pretty, lace panties to the side, sliding a finger into her with ease in the middle of the party, Ophelia gasps.

"So fucking wet," Nate teased, already adding another finger, curling them inside of her. Instead of a proper response, Ophelia's eyes fell closed, biting her lip to hold back the pleased noises trying to escape her. If anyone around then had taken notice - which they hadn't, since Nate's hand on her ass under her skirt was enough for everyone to already look away - Ophelia didn't care.

Nate kisses her again, rougher this time, biting at her lip, finger fucking her in his lap as his other hand came up to rest on the back of her neck in a firm grip. Blaming the drinking, or the music, or the dexys, or shirtless, flirty Nate goddamn Jacobs, Ophelia sighs and whimpers into Nate's mouth as her hips rock gently against his fingers, his thumb insistent against her clit.

"Nate-" she chokes out breathlessly as she's getting close, forehead pressed against his. Nate smirks at her, looks so goddamn pleased with himself, but thankfully doesn't stop.

"Gonna make you cum in the middle of the party, aren't I?" He goads, all warm and encouraging and smug. She wants to tell him to shut up, but he's unfortunately right, and Ophelia's not getting anywhere close to coherent right now. All she can do is nod, weakly, panting and breathless as she feels herself begin to topple over the edge, "slut," he goads against her lips with a grin. Ophelia leans in, kissing him to muffle how she's whimpering as her orgasm crashes through her, stars bursting bright behind her eyes, a mix of shame and elation following in its wake.

Never ever could have imagined this.

Coming down from the sudden rush of endorphins, she pulls back a little, only to see Nate's smug, wide smile as he removes his fingers from her, raising them to his lips. Ophelia, who was already shocked by her own actions, breathing hard, arms still around his neck, watches with a flustered, wide-eyes gaze as Nate sticks both fingers in his mouth, tasting her, tasting what he'd been able to do to her.

"Sweet girl," his grin is all teeth; Ophelia feels trapped in his dark, hungry gaze, but desire still burns low in her gut amid the satisfaction. Nate's hand finds her thigh again, squeezing gently, "lets get another drink and go upstairs; you can return the favour."

Fuck, her mum was right. She'd absolutely let him ruin her.

Ophelia nods eagerly, despite her expression still clearly reading as flustered, but before she can, he pulls her in for a final kiss, makes her taste herself on his tongue. A soft, needy noise escapes her, and before he finally lets her stand, Nate mutters -

"Such a good fucking girl, Fi."

She thinks she might pass out with how much she wants him right now.

As she stands, he smacks her ass before he gets up, and Ophelia, having regained access to her higher brain function, rolls her eyes at him, but grins.

But in the kitchen, halfway through pouring another drink, someone Ophelia vaguely recognises as one of Nate's friends mutters something to him that makes him furious. Its like he's forgotten her entirely, storming from the kitchen, leaving her utterly confused by the very sudden change. Debating whether to follow him or wait there, her mind is made up by the pretty, soft spoken blonde who compliments her outfit. The girl introduces herself as Jules, wearing a rather cute outfit of her own, in dark blues and florals, and Ophelia compliments her as such.

"I'm Ophelia, by the way," she offers with a bright smile, "but Lia's less of a mouthful," she offers with a laugh. Jules is new to town, and has the most beautiful laugh.

"Did you pick Ophelia?" Jules grins, but Ophelia shook her head.

"Mona couldn't find a way to feminize Hamlet," she smiled wryly, "so I had to grow up hearing 'never kill yourself over a boy'."

"Clearly she should have had more faith; you would totally own as Hamlet," Jules' face fell, however, as Ophelia's expression twists bitterly.

"I would," she agrees, head starting to feel fuzzy in all the wrong ways, as it did whenever she found herself reflecting on her mother, "Mona should have done a lot of things differently."

"Sorry," immediately Jules is apologising, "I shouldn't have -" but Ophelia tries to relax, giving her a tight smile.

"Shout out to terrible moms for breaking the stereotype," she managed, ruefully, grabbing the nearest bottle of liquor, forgoing a cup as she raised it in sarcastic cheers. Jules, however, barks a laugh, shaking her head.

"I will gladly drink to that," she offers in solidarity as Ophelia takes a large mouthful of the vodka. Surprised by the unfortunate common ground, something warms in her, the tension genuinely easing, and she offers the bottle. Jules only takes a token sip, but the moment breaks as both girls end up bursting into laughter, commiserating together.

When Ophelia leaves to find the bathroom, she assures Jules she'll return, but it's Jules who manages to disappear before she gets back. The atmosphere in the kitchen is tense. Nate is back but looks like he's more than half way to murderous as he's chugging the last of the vodka Ophelia had drunk from earlier.

And she barely gets through a sentence to him before he spits at her to fuck off. His gaze is so fucking cold -

"I just- are you- ?"

"I said -" he steps up to her, leaning in and radiating malevolent intent as he looms so large over her in this moment, "fuck. Off." Ophelia shrinks back, like she isn't thinking about how damn hot she thinks he is right now, how much she wants him to push her up against the nearest wall or counter.

"I'm going," she huffs, quietly defensive as a front, "sorry for trying to give a shit, Jesus fucking Christ," stepping back with placating hands. In her haste to get away, she misses the brief moment in which Nate's fury holds a flicker of surprise, but it passes, disperses as she retreats from the kitchen towards the front of the house. She doesn't see him throw the empty bottle in the garbage disposal with so much force it shatters upon impact, but she certainly hears it.

Mckay's house isn't really within walking distance, which she forgets until she's a block away and halfway through a cigarette. So she has to call herself an uber to return to the quiet, empty, upper-middle class family home that is the Chase residence. Tucked into bed, she's out before her head even hits the pillow, and only when she wakes up the next day, shocking hang over hitting her like a truck, that she can reflect on the night.

All things considered, it was at least a partial success. She'd definitely caught his attention, at least until something more important to him had stolen it. It wouldn't take her long to learn that it was Maddie and some college guy fucking in the pool, doing the exact same thing Nate has used Ophelia for; making the other jealous.

But, Ophelia thinks with quiet pride as she popped Advil and drank water like her life depended on it, that tonight was definitely a good start.

[infinitegrowth1]

Wattpad seriously needs more black fem oc (not reader but a whole character) based fan fictions! They have some that sound good but they never get completed. my amazing writers out there give me some Nate Jacobs, Conrad fisher, Saiki k, Jeremiah Fisher, Adrien Agreste, Damon Salvatore, Luka Couffaine, Jasper Hale(Whitlock), Paul lahote, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Jacob black x black fem ocs PLEASE! Look at that long list of options someone please write some good long MATURE ;) fics 😓 also if people want some recommendations of some good ones message me!