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dreamersworldduh · 4 months ago

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HIS AWAKENING — PART 2

SUMMARY — Nate Jacobs embodies the quintessential all-American quarterback—athletic, commanding, and effortlessly attractive. Beneath the surface, however, lies a man riddled with inner conflict. His outward bravado conceals a fragile core shaped by toxic societal expectations, a broken family dynamic, and a deep struggle with his own identity. Nate's carefully constructed image masks a storm of repressed emotions, his intimidating presence serving as both armor and a warning to those who might venture too close.

That is, until Y/N entered his life. Strikingly handsome and unapologetically bold, Y/N exudes a magnetic confidence that demands attention the moment he walks into a room. His blend of charisma, sass, and fearless energy challenges everything Nate thought he knew about himself—and about the walls he's built to keep others out.

WARNING! 18+ MDNI. Suggestive Langauge. Swearing.

WORDS! 12.9k

AUTHOR'S NOTE! Here’s part two where things get spicy for this lovely duo. I hope you enjoy.

PREVIOUS PART! HIS AWAKENING

NEXT PART! TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT

The cool air was a stark contrast to the heat still lingering on Y/N's skin from the party—and from Nate's touch. Their lips crashed together again, urgency threading through each movement as Nate pressed Y/N back against the door of their dorm room.

Y/N let out a breathless laugh between kisses, his hands fisting the front of Nate's hoodie as he tugged him closer. Nate's hands gripped Y/N's waist, fingers curling possessively around his hips, his broad frame effectively caging Y/N against the door.

"You were so dramatic about leaving," Nate muttered against Y/N's lips, his voice rough with desire.

Y/N smirked, tilting his head to deepen the kiss for just a moment before pulling back, breathless but still sharp-tongued. "I'm not making out in a disgusting frat house bathroom," he retorted. "Sticky floors, weird smells, God knows what on the walls—no thanks."

Nate chuckled, his breath fanning across Y/N's jaw as he pressed a lingering kiss just beneath his ear. "You're ridiculous," he murmured, but there was nothing but warmth in his voice.

"Practical," Y/N corrected, gasping when Nate's lips brushed the sensitive skin of his neck. "There's a difference."

With a low growl, Nate reached behind Y/N, fumbling blindly for the keycard. "Then let's be practical and get inside," he muttered, finally managing to unlock the door and push it open.

They stumbled into the dorm room, still tangled in each other. Y/N kicked the door shut behind them with a practiced ease, his back barely hitting the closed door before Nate surged forward, capturing his lips again in a heated kiss.

Y/N's fingers tugged at the hem of Nate's hoodie, slipping beneath the fabric to feel the warmth of his skin. "This... is so much better," he mumbled between kisses, his voice breathy.

"Yeah?" Nate rasped, his hands sliding up Y/N's back, fingers splaying against bare skin as he tugged him even closer. "Because you're so into cleanliness, right?"

Y/N grinned wickedly, tilting his head just enough to nip at Nate's lower lip. "I have standards, QB," he teased, his tone playful but charged with meaning.

Nate's response was immediate—he pressed Y/N against the door, his grip tightening just enough to draw a soft gasp from him. "I'll show you standards," Nate growled, crashing their mouths together again, sending them spiraling into another heated, breathless kiss.

Y/N barely had time to react before Nate's large hands gripped his thighs, lifting him off the ground with effortless strength.

"Whoa—Nate," Y/N gasped, his words breaking into a breathless laugh as his arms instinctively wrapped around Nate's shoulders for balance.

Nate's smirk was devilish as he pressed Y/N's back against the door, his hands tightening their grip on Y/N's thighs to hold him in place. "What?" he murmured against Y/N's lips, his voice low and rough. "Afraid I'm gonna drop you?"

Y/N rolled his eyes, though his breath hitched when Nate shifted his grip, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of Y/N's thighs. "No," he shot back, though the sharp edge of his voice was undercut by the flush rising in his cheeks. "I'm just surprised you didn't ask first—"

Whatever else Y/N was about to say dissolved into a sharp inhale as Nate leaned forward, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of Y/N's neck.

"You talk too much," Nate growled, his voice muffled as he began trailing kisses along Y/N's neck, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down Y/N's spine.

Y/N let out a soft moan, his head tilting back to give Nate more access. His fingers curled in the fabric of Nate's hoodie, holding on tightly as Nate's lips moved lower, finding a spot just above Y/N's collarbone that made him shudder.

"Jesus, Nate," Y/N whispered, his voice breathy and laced with something he couldn't quite name.

Nate didn't respond, his only answer the press of his teeth against Y/N's skin, followed by the gentle suction of his lips. A low, guttural sound escaped Nate's throat as he worked, leaving a dark mark that bloomed against Y/N's pale skin.

Y/N's breathing grew heavier, his thighs instinctively tightening around Nate's waist. "You're—" He gasped when Nate moved to a new spot, his tongue flicking out to soothe the sting of his teeth. "You're really going for it, huh?"

Nate pulled back just enough to meet Y/N's gaze, his lips curled into a smug grin. "You're not stopping me," he said, his voice dripping with confidence.

Y/N narrowed his eyes, though the effect was ruined by the flush still burning across his cheeks. "Maybe because I—ah—" His sentence was cut off as Nate bit down lightly on another spot, drawing a soft moan from Y/N's lips.

The sound sent a surge of heat through Nate's chest, and he couldn't help the low groan that escaped him in response. "You're so sensitive," he murmured, his voice dropping even lower as he pressed another kiss to the rapidly darkening marks along Y/N's neck.

Y/N huffed out a laugh, though it was shaky. "Don't let it go to your head, QB," he said, his voice tinged with playful defiance.

But Nate didn't stop, his focus entirely on Y/N—on the way his body arched slightly against him, on the soft, breathless sounds escaping his lips, on the marks he was leaving behind like a claim.

"You're not as tough as you pretend to be," Nate murmured, his lips brushing against Y/N's ear.

"Shut up," Y/N shot back, though his voice was weaker now, his fingers tightening their grip on Nate's shoulders.

Nate chuckled, the sound vibrating against Y/N's skin as he pressed another kiss to his neck. "Make me," he whispered, his tone equal parts challenge and promise.

Y/N let out a soft, shaky breath, tilting his head to give Nate better access. The pressure of Nate's lips, the occasional scrape of teeth, and the warmth of his breath sent shivers cascading down Y/N's spine.

Y/N, needing some semblance of control in the situation, shifted slightly, loosening the grip of his legs. Nate hesitated, his hands tightening on Y/N's thighs to steady him, his brows furrowing slightly. "What are you—" he started, but his words cut off as Y/N leaned back against the door and gently kicked off his shoes. They hit the floor with soft thuds, the action slow and deliberate, his gaze never leaving Nate's.

Nate pulled back just enough to meet Y/N's eyes, his expression a mix of confusion and intrigue. "What are you doing?" he murmured, his voice low, almost a growl.

Y/N smirked, a teasing glint in his eyes as his hands slid up Nate's chest. "Relax, QB," he said, his voice breathy but steady. "Just making things... easier."

Without waiting for a response, Y/N's fingers reached the collar of Nate's hoodie, curling around the fabric. He moved slowly, his touch deliberate as he began to push the jacket off Nate's broad shoulders. Nate's breath hitched slightly, but he didn't stop him.

The hoodie slipped down Nate's arms, falling in a heap on the floor. Beneath it, Nate's t-shirt clung to him, the thin fabric outlining every muscle. Y/N's hands lingered for a moment, his palms brushing over Nate's chest as if committing the feel of him to memory.

Nate swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as he looked down at Y/N. His hands, still gripping Y/N's thighs, flexed slightly, and his breathing grew heavier. "You always this bossy?" he asked, his tone tinged with both amusement and something deeper.

Y/N tilted his head, his smirk softening into a sly smile. "Only when it works," he replied, his voice low and teasing.

Nate let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head slightly, but the intensity in his gaze never wavered. "You're something else, you know that?"

"Yeah," Y/N said, his voice quieter now, almost a whisper. His hands slid up to Nate's shoulders, pulling him closer. "And you're still holding me up like I weigh nothing. Show-off."

Nate's lips twitched into a small smirk of his own, but instead of replying, he leaned in, capturing Y/N's lips in another heated kiss. The moment their mouths met, the room seemed to shrink, leaving only the two of them and the electric pull between them.

As the kiss deepened, Nate shifted slightly, pressing Y/N more firmly against the door, and Y/N couldn't help the soft moan that escaped him. His hands gripped Nate's shoulders tightly, his earlier teasing replaced by something far more raw and unguarded.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Just them.

Suddenly, Nate's hands remained firm on Y/N's thighs as he pulled him away from the door, his strength evident in the ease with which he carried him. Y/N's legs tightened slightly around Nate's waist, the friction of the moment sending heat radiating between them.

Nate's gaze flicked toward his bed, the unspoken intent clear in his determined strides. But as they neared the edge of the mattress, Y/N gently pressed a hand to Nate's chest, his touch firm but not forceful.

"Wait," Y/N said, his voice soft but steady, his cheeks flushed with a mix of exertion and emotion.

Nate froze, his brows furrowing slightly as he searched Y/N's face. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

Y/N didn't answer immediately. Instead, he let his legs slide down from around Nate's waist, his feet finding the floor. Nate's hands hovered instinctively at his sides, as if ready to steady him. But Y/N's movements were purposeful, his eyes locked onto Nate's with an intensity that made Nate's chest tighten.

Y/N took a small step back, his hands slipping from Nate's shoulders to rest on his chest. Slowly, deliberately, he trailed his fingers down the fabric of Nate's t-shirt, over the firm lines of his torso. His touch was light, teasing, as he traced the faint outlines of muscle.

Then, without breaking eye contact, Y/N dropped to his knees.

Nate's breath hitched audibly, his hands twitching at his sides as he looked down at Y/N, the sight before him rendering him momentarily speechless. Y/N knelt there, his movements fluid and deliberate, his fingers toying with the hem of Nate's shirt as a sly smirk played on his lips.

"Y/N..." Nate started, his voice catching in his throat. He wasn't sure if it was a question, a warning, or something else entirely.

Y/N tilted his head, his eyes glinting with mischief and something deeper. "Relax, QB," he murmured, his voice low and velvety. "I just figured I'd take the lead for once."

Nate's jaw tightened, his breathing shallow as he tried to process the shift in control. Y/N's fingers brushed over his waistband, light and teasing, and Nate couldn't help the way his body reacted, his hands instinctively moving to Y/N's shoulders for balance.

The moment hung heavy between them, charged with anticipation and an undeniable heat. For Nate, every nerve in his body felt alive, his focus entirely on Y/N—on the way he looked up at him, the way his touch sent shivers down his spine.

"Y/N," Nate said again, his voice softer this time, filled with a mix of restraint and longing.

Y/N's smirk softened into something more genuine, his hands stilling as he met Nate's gaze head-on. "I've got you," he said simply, his voice carrying both reassurance and a quiet confidence that left Nate reeling.

Nate stood frozen, his hands resting heavily on Y/N's shoulders, his breathing uneven as Y/N knelt before him. The faint hum of the dormitory's fluorescent lights was the only sound, but it was drowned out by the rush of blood in Nate's ears.

Y/N's fingers moved with deliberate slowness, brushing against the waistband of Nate's jeans, toying with the button for a moment before undoing it with a deft flick of his fingers. His eyes flicked upward, meeting Nate's with a mischievous glint as he gripped the zipper tab, pausing just long enough to make Nate's breath hitch.

"You're awfully quiet, QB," Y/N teased, his voice low and silky, the corners of his lips curving into a knowing smirk.

Nate swallowed hard, his hands tightening slightly on Y/N's shoulders. "Y/N..." he began, but his voice was thick, his words trailing off as Y/N slowly dragged the zipper down, the sound loud in the stillness of the room.

Nate's jeans loosened around his hips, revealing the band of his boxers beneath. Y/N let his hands linger, brushing over the fabric teasingly before tugging the jeans down just enough to expose more of Nate's boxers. The bulge beneath the thin fabric was undeniable, his arousal straining against the material, and Y/N's smirk deepened at the sight.

"You've been holding out on me," Y/N murmured, leaning forward until his lips hovered just above Nate's clothed length. His warm breath ghosted over the sensitive area, drawing a sharp inhale from Nate.

"Y/N..." Nate's voice was low, almost a growl, but there was a raw edge of vulnerability in it that made Y/N pause for a moment, his smirk softening.

"Relax," Y/N whispered, his voice steady but laced with playful reassurance. "I told you—I've got you."

And with that, he pressed a soft, teasing kiss against the fabric of Nate's boxers, right over the swollen length beneath. The contact was light, almost maddeningly so, but it was enough to draw a quiet, unrestrained groan from Nate's throat.

Y/N continued, his kisses slow and deliberate, each one sending jolts of heat through Nate's body. The warmth of Y/N's lips against the thin fabric was a maddening combination of pleasure and restraint, and Nate's grip on Y/N's shoulders tightened, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath.

"You're... driving me crazy," Nate managed to say, his voice hoarse, his usual control slipping with each passing second.

"That's the idea," Y/N quipped, his tone playful but dripping with intent. He kissed his way along Nate's dick, his lips trailing from the base to the tip, the thin barrier of fabric only heightening the sensation.

Nate's head tipped back slightly, his hands slipping from Y/N's shoulders to grip the edge of the nearby desk for support. His knuckles turned white as he fought to keep himself steady, every nerve in his body alight with sensation.

Y/N's lips lingered for a moment longer before he pulled back, his gaze flicking up to meet Nate's. His smirk returned, equal parts teasing and self-assured. "You good up there?" he asked, his voice dripping with mischief.

Nate looked down at him, his usually sharp eyes now clouded with a haze of want. "Y/N," he said again, his voice firmer now, though it trembled at the edges.

Y/N chuckled softly, his hands sliding up Nate's thighs. "Don't worry, QB," he said, his tone softer now, more intimate. "We're just getting started."

Y/N's fingers lingered on the waistband of Nate's boxers, his touch teasingly light as he toyed with the elastic. Nate stood above him, his breathing uneven, his hands now gripping the edge of the desk behind him for support.

Y/N glanced up, his sharp eyes meeting Nate's, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. "You're not nervous, are you?" he asked, his tone light, though it carried an edge of mischief.

"Not even a little," Nate replied, his voice low and steady, but the way his chest rose and fell betrayed the truth.

Y/N hummed softly, his fingers curling into the fabric of Nate's boxers. With a deliberate slowness that could only be described as torturous, he pulled the waistband downward, just enough to free Nate's swollen dick.

The sight before him made Y/N pause, his usual quick wit momentarily silenced. Nate's size was, frankly, impressive—more than impressive. For a brief second, Y/N's expression faltered, his surprise flashing across his face before he quickly schooled his features into something more composed.

"Damn," Y/N murmured under his breath, his voice almost inaudible, but loud enough for Nate to hear.

Nate's lips twitched into a smirk, the kind of self-assured grin that sent a flicker of both amusement and irritation through Y/N. "Something you want to say?" Nate asked, his voice deep and laced with unmistakable smugness.

Y/N tilted his head, his smirk returning as he looked up at Nate with a practiced nonchalance. "You're not bad, QB," he said, his tone casual but with just enough bite to keep Nate on his toes. "I'll give you that."

"Not bad?" Nate echoed, raising an eyebrow as his smirk widened. "Pretty sure that's not what you were thinking just now."

Y/N rolled his eyes, though the slight flush on his cheeks gave him away. "Don't let it go to your head," he quipped, his hand wrapping loosely around Nate's length, his thumb brushing along the heated skin. "Confidence isn't always a good look."

Nate let out a low, shaky breath, his smirk faltering for a moment as his head tipped back slightly. "You talk a lot," he managed to say, though his voice had lost some of its usual bite.

Y/N chuckled, his grip tightening just enough to make Nate's breath hitch. "And you're pretty full of yourself," he shot back, his smirk softening into something more playful. "Let's see if you can keep it together, QB."

For once, Nate didn't have a comeback, his focus entirely on Y/N's touch as the tension between them reached a fever pitch.

Y/N's smirk didn't waver as his fingers tightened slightly around Nate's dick, his touch deliberate and calculated. The slight hitch in Nate's breath was all the encouragement Y/N needed.

"Relax, QB," Y/N murmured, his voice low and teasing as he leaned forward.

Nate's jaw clenched, his knuckles white where they gripped the edge of the desk for balance. He didn't respond, but the way his chest rose and fell in uneven breaths betrayed the effect Y/N had on him.

Without breaking eye contact, Y/N leaned closer, his tongue darting out to flick lightly against the tip of Nate's swollen dick. The touch was featherlight, almost teasing, but it drew a sharp inhale from Nate, his hips jerking forward slightly in response.

Y/N chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against Nate's skin as he licked again, this time trailing his tongue slowly along the underside of Nate's dick. His movements were unhurried, methodical, and maddeningly precise, as if savoring the way Nate's body responded to him.

"Jesus, Y/N," Nate muttered, his voice rough, his head tipping back slightly as he fought to maintain some semblance of control.

Y/N smirked, the corners of his lips curling as he pulled back slightly. "What's the matter, QB?" he asked, his voice thick with mock innocence. "Not what you were expecting?"

Nate let out a low, shaky breath, his gaze dropping to meet Y/N's. His usual confidence was faltering, his composure unraveling with each skilled flick of Y/N's tongue. "You're—" he started, but his words caught in his throat as Y/N wrapped his lips around the tip, applying just enough pressure to make Nate's knees threaten to buckle.

Y/N hummed softly, the vibration sending a shiver through Nate's entire body. His hands gripped the desk even tighter as Y/N worked, his tongue gliding over every inch of him with practiced ease. Each movement was deliberate, calculated to drive Nate closer to the edge without giving him the satisfaction of falling over it.

"Where the hell did you learn—" Nate started, his voice strained, but he didn't finish the sentence, his breath hitching again as Y/N's tongue swirled expertly around him.

Y/N pulled back just enough to speak, his voice dripping with amusement. "Wouldn't you like to know?" he teased, before leaning back in, his movements smooth and unrelenting.

Nate's smirk was long gone, replaced by a mixture of frustration and something deeper, more raw. His fingers flexed against the desk as he looked down at Y/N, his breath coming in shallow gasps. "You're... impossible," he managed to say, his voice hoarse.

Y/N glanced up at him, his eyes glinting with mischief as he slowed his movements, drawing out each moment with excruciating precision. "And you're easy to impress," he quipped, his lips brushing against Nate's shaft as he spoke.

Nate let out a low growl, his head tipping back as he let the sensation take over, every nerve in his body alive with the intensity of the moment. For the first time, he had no control—and he didn't care.

Every flick of Y/N's tongue and deliberate movement of his lips unraveling Nate's composure piece by piece. Nate's grip on the desk behind him tightened, his knuckles white as he struggled to stay upright, his legs threatening to give out beneath him.

The moment Y/N took him fully into his mouth, the warmth enveloping him, Nate let out a low, guttural groan that echoed through the room. His head tipped back, his eyes squeezing shut as his lips parted in a breathless exhale.

"Fuck, Y/N," Nate muttered, his voice deep and ragged, the sound tinged with both desperation and awe.

Y/N smirked slightly around him, his movements calculated as he hollowed his cheeks, increasing the intensity. His tongue worked expertly, tracing every contour, every sensitive spot he'd quickly learned to exploit. He glanced up briefly, catching Nate's expression—a mixture of pleasure and disbelief—and felt a surge of satisfaction.

Nate's groans grew louder, the sound vibrating in his chest as his free hand instinctively reached out, his fingers threading through Y/N's hair. He wasn't forceful, but his grip was firm, grounding himself in the sensation as his hips pressed forward ever so slightly.

The warmth of Y/N's mouth, combined with the skilled way his tongue moved, sent shivers racing up Nate's spine. His breathing was ragged, each exhale punctuated by soft curses and murmured praises.

"You're... so fucking good at this," Nate managed to say between breaths, his voice cracking slightly as another groan tore from his throat. His vulnerability in the moment, the rawness of his reaction, sent a thrill through Y/N that spurred him on.

Y/N's hands rested firmly on Nate's hips, steadying him as he continued, his movements unrelenting. The faint scrape of his nails through the fabric of Nate's shirt added another layer of sensation, one that had Nate gasping audibly.

"Y/N," Nate groaned again, his voice breaking into something almost pleading. His usual confidence had completely melted away, replaced by unfiltered need. "Jesus Christ, you're—"

Y/N pulled back slightly, his lips dragging slowly along Nate's length, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. "Speechless, QB?" he teased, his voice low and husky, his breath warm against Nate's skin.

Nate's jaw clenched, his eyes opening just enough to glare down at Y/N, though the effect was ruined by the flush creeping up his neck and the way his chest heaved. "You're... ridiculous," he muttered, though there was no heat behind the words.

"Maybe," Y/N murmured before taking him back into his mouth, his pace quickening just enough to draw another sharp groan from Nate, his entire body tensing in response.

Every sound Nate made—every groan, every breathless expletive—only fueled Y/N's determination to push him further, to see just how far he could unravel the man who prided himself on control. And as Nate's voice filled the room, raw and unrestrained, Y/N knew he was succeeding.

Nate gripped onto the desk behind him as though it were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. His broad shoulders, usually squared and confident, slumped slightly under the weight of the moment, his head tipped back, his chest heaving.

But none of that compared to the sight before him.

Y/N was on his knees, a picture of deliberate poise and control. His movements were fluid, each flick of his tongue and glide of his lips so purposeful it felt like a carefully crafted symphony, each note resonating deep within Nate. The dim light caught the angles of Y/N's face, the faint sheen of sweat on his brow, the way his lashes framed his half-lidded eyes as he glanced up at Nate with something that felt far too knowing.

Nate's stomach twisted—not in discomfort, but in something he couldn't quite name. It wasn't just physical; it wasn't just the way Y/N was touching him. There was something deeper, something far more unsettling about the way his chest ached when he looked down at him.

Damn it, Nate thought, his jaw tightening as he tried to focus on anything but the warmth pooling in his chest.

Y/N was breathtaking like this, every movement dripping with confidence, every smirk tugging at the corner of his lips challenging Nate in ways he wasn't used to. The sharp wit, the audaciousness that always left Nate either flustered or infuriated, now felt like a magnet pulling him in further than he wanted to go.

The thought sent a pang of panic through him.

No. This isn't that, Nate told himself, though even in his own head the words sounded hollow. He wasn't supposed to feel this way. He wasn't supposed to notice the faint blush across Y/N's cheeks, the way his hair fell messily against his forehead, or the look of determination in his eyes as though he were intent on unraveling Nate completely.

But he noticed all of it. He felt all of it. And for one terrifying second, Nate almost let himself admit it.

The word love floated at the edge of his mind, soft and insistent, but Nate shoved it aside with a force that almost felt violent. He couldn't go there—not now, not ever.

Instead, he tried to focus on the heat of the moment, on the physical sensations that were enough to leave him gasping for breath. He let his gaze drop to Y/N again, taking in the sight of him, every sharp edge and soft curve illuminated by the dim lighting.

And just for a fleeting moment, Nate let himself feel it.

Maybe this is what it's supposed to feel like, the thought whispered, unbidden, before he squashed it down again.

"Y/N," Nate murmured, his voice rough and low, the word falling from his lips like a confession.

Y/N glanced up at him, his smirk shifting into something softer, something almost tender. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice warm and teasing, his lips brushing against Nate's skin as he spoke.

Nate hesitated, his throat tightening around the words he wanted to say but couldn't. He let his fingers brush against the edge of the desk again, his grip faltering as he forced a smirk back onto his face.

"Nothing," Nate finally said, his voice a little too strained, a little too hollow. "Just... keep going."

Y/N raised an eyebrow but didn't push, his knowing smile returning as he leaned back in. Nate's breath hitched again, and for the rest of the night, he let himself drown in Y/N's touch, letting the feeling replace the words he couldn't bring himself to say.

But deep down, Nate knew the truth. It was there in the way his chest tightened, in the way his thoughts kept circling back to Y/N's face, his touch, his voice. And as much as Nate tried to ignore it, he couldn't help but feel the weight of it settle in his chest.

Almost in love, he thought again, though he wouldn't admit it. Not to Y/N. Not even to himself.

Y/N continued his deliberate work. His mouth moved over Nate's dick with practiced precision, every flick of his tongue and every deliberate pull of his lips sending shudders through Nate's body. The heat was overwhelming, radiating between them in waves that seemed to build with each passing second.

Nate's grip on the desk tightened, his knuckles white, his breathing ragged and uneven. His broad chest heaved, the faint sheen of sweat glistening on his skin as he tilted his head back, eyes squeezing shut. Every nerve in his body felt alive, hyper-aware of the warmth and pressure Y/N was providing.

"Y/N," Nate groaned, his voice hoarse and unsteady. The sound was almost a plea, his usual confidence stripped away as the sensations overwhelmed him.

Y/N didn't stop, his hands steady on Nate's hips as he continued with deliberate care, his tongue tracing every sensitive spot with maddening precision. His eyes flicked upward, catching the expression on Nate's face—jaw slack, lips parted, brows furrowed in a mixture of pleasure and disbelief.

Smirking slightly, Y/N pulled back just enough to let his breath fan across Nate's length, his voice low and teasing. "What's the matter, QB?" he asked, his tone laced with playful arrogance. "Can't handle it?"

Nate let out a strained chuckle, though it sounded more like a groan. "You're... annoying," he managed, his hands twitching as though fighting the urge to grab Y/N and pull him closer.

Y/N's smirk deepened, his lips brushing against Nate's heated skin as he whispered, "And you're loving every moment of this." He moved again, his mouth enveloping Nate with renewed focus, drawing a sharp inhale and another low groan from him.

But suddenly, as if something snapped inside him, Nate's hands moved. Without warning, he gripped Y/N firmly by the shoulders, the strength in his fingers undeniable. Before Y/N could process what was happening, Nate's arms flexed, and he lifted Y/N effortlessly off the floor.

"Whoa—Nate!" Y/N yelped, his hands instinctively gripping Nate's forearms as his feet left the ground. His protest was cut short as Nate turned and set him down on the edge of the desk, the movement quick but controlled.

The cool surface of the desk contrasted sharply with the heat between them, sending a shiver through Y/N as he adjusted to the new position. Nate leaned in, his hands braced on either side of Y/N, his towering frame caging him in. Their faces were close now, close enough for Y/N to feel Nate's warm breath against his lips.

"What the hell was that for?" Y/N asked, his voice breathless, though the faint blush on his cheeks betrayed that he wasn't entirely annoyed.

Nate smirked, his gaze intense as it locked onto Y/N's. "You were having too much fun," he said, his voice low and gravelly, laced with something darker. "Thought I'd even the playing field."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, though his lips quirked into a sly grin. "Even the playing field?" he repeated, his voice dripping with amusement. "Big talk for someone who could barely stand a second ago."

Nate let out a low chuckle, his hands sliding to Y/N's hips, his grip firm but careful. "Keep talking, Y/N," he murmured, his tone both a warning and a challenge. "See where it gets you."

Y/N opened his mouth to respond, but the words dissolved into a sharp inhale as Nate leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was heated, urgent, and consuming, the kind of kiss that left no room for doubt about who was in control now.

Y/N's hands gripped Nate's shirt tightly, pulling him closer as he returned the kiss with equal fervor. The desk creaked slightly under their weight, the room filled with the sound of their breaths mingling, the tension between them snapping like a live wire.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the party they'd left behind, not the lingering questions in Nate's mind, not the growing heat between them. All that existed was the here and now, and neither of them was willing to let it go.

The kiss broke with a sudden, deliberate motion, leaving both Nate and Y/N breathless. Nate leaned back, his hands lingering on the desk on either side of Y/N as he stared down at him, his chest heaving. Y/N's lips were slightly swollen from the kiss, his cheeks flushed with heat, his eyes burning with a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

Without a word, Nate reached for the hem of his shirt, gripping the fabric tightly before pulling it over his head in one fluid motion. The action was unhurried but confident, his movements purposeful as he tossed the shirt aside. His skin glowed faintly under the dim dormitory light, every muscle of his torso carved with a precision that could only be earned through years of discipline and effort.

Next came his shoes, kicked off carelessly to land somewhere near the desk. Then his pants, unzipped and discarded with a practiced ease that made it clear he had no time for hesitation. Finally, Nate hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, sliding them down slowly, deliberately, until he stood before Y/N completely bare.

The room seemed to still as Y/N's gaze swept over him, lingering on the defined ridges of his abs, the broad expanse of his chest, the sharp line of his jaw—and lower still, where Nate's confidence was impossible to ignore.

Nate's smirk widened as he caught the way Y/N's eyes flickered up and down, the brief widening of his pupils betraying what words didn't. "You like what you see?" Nate asked, his voice low and teasing, dripping with the kind of cockiness that only he could pull off.

Y/N's mouth quirked into a small, sly smile, though the flush on his cheeks betrayed his composure. "You're definitely not shy, QB," he retorted, his voice carrying a hint of breathlessness.

"Why would I be?" Nate countered, stepping closer, his body radiating heat and confidence. "When you've got this?" He gestured to himself with a faint tilt of his chin, his tone playful but tinged with pride.

Y/N rolled his eyes, though his grin deepened. "Careful," he said, his tone mockingly serious. "That ego's getting too big for this room."

Nate chuckled, his smirk softening as his hands reached out to Y/N, gently gripping his arms. "We'll see who's talking about egos by the end of this," he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that sent shivers down Y/N's spine.

With a deliberate slowness, Nate pulled Y/N to his feet, their bodies just inches apart. His hands moved to the hem of Y/N's shirt, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of Y/N's stomach as he began to lift it. He took his time, his eyes never leaving Y/N's as he slipped the shirt over his head, tossing it to join the growing pile of discarded clothes.

Next came Y/N's pants. Nate's hands slid down Y/N's sides, his touch firm but careful, guiding Y/N's hips forward as his fingers hooked into the waistband. He didn't rush, instead pulling the fabric down inch by inch, his lips curling into a smirk as more of Y/N's skin was revealed.

"You're quiet," Nate said softly, his voice teasing as he knelt slightly to pull the pants down completely, leaving Y/N in nothing but his underwear. "Not like you."

Y/N's breath hitched slightly as Nate's hands brushed against his thighs, his skin tingling where Nate's fingers lingered. "Just... enjoying the show," Y/N shot back, his voice quieter than usual but still carrying its usual edge of defiance.

Nate let out a low chuckle, his hands slipping to the waistband of Y/N's underwear. He tugged at it gently, his eyes darkening as his gaze swept over Y/N's body. "Your turn," Nate murmured, his smirk softening into something more intimate as he began to slide the fabric down, exposing Y/N fully to the warm air of the room.

The tension between them was palpable, each movement deliberate and charged with unspoken energy. When they were finally both stripped bare, Nate stepped back slightly, his eyes raking over Y/N with a mixture of admiration and hunger.

"Looks like I'm not the only one with something to be cocky about," Nate said, his smirk returning, though there was a warmth in his tone that made the comment feel less like a tease and more like a genuine compliment.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, his smirk mirroring Nate's as he closed the gap between them, their bodies brushing. "Told you that ego was too big," Y/N murmured, his voice low.

"Guess you'll just have to put me in my place," Nate replied, his hands finding Y/N's waist.

Their bodies were flush against each other, skin slick and warm, each breath they shared fanning the heat between them. Nate's hands found their way to Y/N's waist, his fingers gripping firmly as he pulled Y/N even closer, their bodies perfectly aligned.

Y/N gasped softly, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths as he felt Nate's dick graze against his own. The sensation was maddeningly intimate, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through him.

Nate's lips brushed against Y/N's ear, the warmth of his breath making Y/N's knees threaten to give out. "You feel that?" Nate murmured, his voice low and rough, each word dripping with seductive intent. "That's all because of you."

Y/N's hands pressed against Nate's chest, his fingers curling slightly, but he didn't push him away. Instead, he tilted his head, giving Nate better access as his lips ghosted along the sensitive skin just below Y/N's ear.

"You're driving me insane, Y/N," Nate whispered, his voice a mix of frustration and raw desire. His grip tightened, his large hands sliding down to Y/N's hips before moving to firmly grasp his ass. The roughness of his touch drew a sharp gasp from Y/N, who arched into him instinctively.

Nate smirked at the reaction, his confidence growing as he kneaded the soft flesh with his hands, his fingers digging in just enough to leave a lingering heat. "You like that, don't you?" he teased, his tone laced with a wicked edge. "You like the way I touch you. The way I make you feel."

Y/N's head fell forward, his forehead resting against Nate's shoulder as his breathing grew heavier. "Nate..." he murmured, his voice shaky but not pleading, a challenge wrapped in soft surrender.

"What?" Nate replied, his smirk audible in his voice as he pressed their bodies closer, their dicks grazing again. The friction was almost too much, the sensation pulling a low groan from Nate's throat. "Can't handle it?"

Y/N's breath hitched, and he tilted his head back, his lips dangerously close to Nate's as his eyes burned with defiance. "You're the one losing control," he shot back, though his voice wavered, his body betraying the composure he was trying to maintain.

Nate's smirk deepened as he leaned in, his lips brushing against Y/N's jaw before moving back to his ear. "Losing control?" he whispered, his tone dark and seductive. His hands squeezed Y/N's ass again, pulling him even closer, their bodies practically molding together. "No, Y/N. This is me in control. Every sound you make, every time your body reacts to mine—that's all me."

Y/N's sharp intake of breath was all the confirmation Nate needed. He shifted slightly, the deliberate motion creating just enough friction between them to make Y/N let out a soft, unguarded moan.

Nate chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating against Y/N's skin. "That's what I thought," he murmured, his lips brushing against Y/N's ear again as he continued his whispered assault. "You're mine tonight, Y/N. Every inch of you."

Y/N's response was lost in another gasp as Nate pressed them together again, the heat and intensity of the moment consuming them both, leaving nothing but raw, unspoken desire in its wake.

Nate lifted Y/N effortlessly, his strength undeniable. He set Y/N down on the edge of the desk with deliberate care, his body slotting between Y/N's legs as he leaned forward, their foreheads briefly brushing together.

Y/N let out a soft gasp, his thighs instinctively wrapping around Nate's hips to pull him closer. The heat between them was undeniable, their skin flushed and slick as they pressed together, Nate's broad frame practically engulfing Y/N's.

Nate reached down, his hands sliding along Y/N's thighs, his grip possessive and firm as he aligned their bodies. The room was silent except for the sound of their shallow breaths and the faint creak of the desk beneath them.

Just as Nate positioned himself, Y/N placed a hand on Nate's chest, his lips curling into a teasing smirk. "Top drawer," he said, his voice breathy but playful. "There's lube in there. Might make things easier, you know."

Nate paused for a beat, his sharp eyes locking onto Y/N's. The corner of his mouth twitched into a cocky grin, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from Y/N's face. "Appreciate the offer," he murmured, his voice low and dripping with confidence. "But I've got my own way."

Before Y/N could respond, Nate brought one hand to his dick, wrapping his fingers around it with practiced ease. His other hand cupped Y/N's hip to keep him steady as he spit into his palm, the sound sharp and deliberate. Y/N's eyes widened slightly, his gaze fixed on Nate's every movement as Nate spread the moisture along his dick, his hand moving with slow, deliberate strokes.

The sight was hypnotizing—Nate's muscles flexing with each motion, the gleam of his length catching the dim light, and the self-assured smirk on his face as he watched Y/N watching him. "See?" Nate said, his tone laced with teasing arrogance. "Told you I've got this."

Y/N's cheeks flushed, but he didn't look away. His lips parted slightly as he exhaled a shaky breath, the anticipation winding tighter in his chest. "Always so sure of yourself," Y/N murmured, his voice softer now, though there was a hint of challenge in his tone.

Nate's smirk deepened as he leaned in, his lips brushing against Y/N's ear. "Because I know exactly what I'm doing," he whispered, his voice rough with intent.

Y/N shivered at the sound, his fingers gripping the edge of the desk as he tilted his head back, exposing the curve of his neck. Nate didn't waste another moment, his hands sliding to Y/N's hips to position him properly, his touch firm but careful.

The room seemed to hold its breath as Nate adjusted his stance, his movements unhurried, every action deliberate. The tension between them was nearly unbearable, the air thick with expectation as Nate lined himself up, his focus entirely on Y/N.

"Ready?" Nate asked, his voice softer now, a rare moment of vulnerability slipping through his usual confidence.

Y/N met his gaze, his own smirk fading into something more genuine. "Always," he whispered, his voice steady despite the tremor in his chest.

With that, Nate pressed forward, his hands gripping Y/N's hips with a mix of control and urgency. Y/N's head tilted back, his lips parting as he let out a soft, shaky moan, the sound breaking the stillness of the room. It was quiet but raw, laced with pleasure and vulnerability, and it sent a jolt of satisfaction straight through Nate.

Nate froze for a moment, his smirk deepening as he processed the sound. His eyes locked onto Y/N, who was flushed and breathless, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. The sight of Y/N like this—completely undone, his body arching against the desk—was enough to stoke Nate's confidence to a fiery peak.

"Like that?" Nate murmured, his voice low and teasing as he leaned forward, his breath warm against Y/N's ear. His fingers tightened on Y/N's hips, holding him firmly in place as he pulled back slightly, only to push forward again with deliberate precision.

Y/N gasped, his hands gripping the edge of the desk for stability as Nate began to find a rhythm. His voice came out in breathless fragments. "Nate..." he moaned softly, the sound barely above a whisper but filled with enough heat to make Nate's stomach twist.

The smirk on Nate's face grew as he took in every detail—the way Y/N's back arched just enough to meet his movements, the way his thighs tensed around Nate's hips, the faint sheen of sweat forming along his skin. "That's it," Nate said, his voice rough and commanding. "Let me hear you."

He adjusted his stance slightly, his hips snapping forward at a faster pace. The desk creaked faintly beneath them, the sound mingling with the soft moans escaping Y/N's lips. Every thrust drew another reaction from Y/N, each one more unguarded than the last, his voice rising in pitch as Nate pushed him further toward the edge.

"Fuck, Y/N," Nate growled, his smirk faltering for a moment as the pleasure coursing through him became almost overwhelming. He gritted his teeth, his focus locked entirely on the way Y/N's body moved with him, the way he clenched around him with every thrust.

Y/N let out another soft, drawn-out moan, his hands scrambling to find purchase on Nate's shoulders. His fingers curled into the firm muscle there, holding on tightly as his head fell forward, his breath hot against Nate's neck. "You're—" Y/N started, his words dissolving into a gasp as Nate's pace quickened further, his movements becoming more intense.

"What was that?" Nate teased, his voice rough but steady as he dipped his head to brush his lips against Y/N's ear. "You can't even finish a sentence, can you?"

Y/N's response was another soft moan, his fingers digging deeper into Nate's shoulders as he tilted his head back, exposing the line of his throat. Nate couldn't help himself—he leaned in, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin there, his teeth grazing lightly as he continued to thrust.

The combination of Nate's movements and his teasing touch sent Y/N spiraling, his body tensing and trembling as the pleasure mounted. "Nate..." he gasped again, his voice cracking slightly as he clung to him.

Nate's smirk returned, but his movements remained relentless, every thrust calculated to drive Y/N further over the edge. "That's it," he murmured, his voice almost a growl. "Keep making those sounds for me."

And Y/N did, his moans filling the room as Nate's pace quickened, their bodies moving together in a rhythm that felt both chaotic and perfectly synchronized. Nate's cocky exterior may have been intact, but the way his jaw clenched and his breathing grew heavier betrayed the fact that Y/N was pushing him to his limits, too.

This was more than physical—it was raw, unfiltered, and completely consuming, leaving neither of them any room to think about anything but the fire that burned between them.

Y/N's mind was a haze, every coherent thought drowned out by the waves of pleasure crashing through him. He knew Nate had said something—teasing him, challenging him, that smug tone laced with arrogance—but the words barely registered. The only thing Y/N could focus on was the heat of Nate's body pressed against his, the firm grip of Nate's hands on his hips, and the relentless rhythm that left him gasping for air.

His lips parted as if to respond, but no sound came out except for a soft, breathless moan. The pleasure was all-consuming, leaving Y/N completely at Nate's mercy. His fingers curled tightly around the edge of the desk, his knuckles white as he tried to ground himself against the overwhelming sensation.

Nate's voice came again, low and teasing, right against Y/N's ear. "What's the matter, Y/N?" he murmured, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction. "You always have something to say. Cat got your tongue?"

Y/N wanted to snap back, wanted to match Nate's cocky energy with a sharp retort, but the words were caught in his throat. Another thrust from Nate sent a sharp jolt of pleasure through him, his back arching involuntarily as his head tipped back. The sound that escaped him was more of a gasp than a response, his body trembling under Nate's relentless pace.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Nate growled, his hands tightening on Y/N's hips as he pulled him closer, their bodies moving perfectly in sync. "You're too far gone, aren't you? Can't even think straight."

Y/N let out a shaky laugh, though it dissolved almost immediately into a whimper as Nate shifted slightly, hitting a spot that made his vision blur. "N-Nate..." he gasped, his voice shaky and weak, barely audible over the sound of their bodies moving together.

Nate smirked, the corners of his lips curving upward as he leaned in, his breath hot against Y/N's neck. "That's all you've got?" he murmured, his tone both mocking and tender, the combination enough to make Y/N's knees feel like jelly.

Y/N tried again to form a response, his lips moving soundlessly for a moment before another thrust sent him spiraling, his grip on the desk tightening as his body shuddered. "I—I..." he stammered, but whatever thought he'd been trying to voice was wiped away by another wave of pleasure.

"That's what I thought," Nate said again, his smirk widening as he watched Y/N unravel beneath him. "Blinded by it, aren't you? Don't worry—I've got you."

And Y/N, for all his usual wit and defiance, could do nothing but cling to Nate's words and the overwhelming sensation, his mind and body completely at the mercy of the pleasure Nate was giving him.

Nate's hands gripped Y/N's thighs firmly, his strong fingers pressing into the soft flesh as he adjusted his stance. With a low, guttural groan, he bent slightly, his muscles flexing as he hooked Y/N's legs around his waist.

"Hold on," Nate murmured, his voice rough and breathy, carrying both a warning and a promise.

Y/N instinctively wrapped his arms around Nate's shoulders, his fingers curling into the fabric of Nate's damp shirt. His legs tightened around Nate's hips, locking him in place, but it did little to prepare him for what came next.

With one smooth motion, Nate lifted him, his powerful arms supporting Y/N's weight as if it were nothing. The movement caused Y/N to gasp sharply, the sudden shift making him hyperaware of the way Nate was still buried deep inside him. The stretch, the pressure—it sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through Y/N's body, leaving him breathless.

Nate smirked, his confidence only growing as he felt Y/N tremble in his grasp. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice low, almost a growl. "I've got you."

Y/N barely had time to respond before Nate began moving him, sliding him up his length with a deliberate slowness before pulling him back down. The sensation was intense, every movement sending sparks through Y/N's body as he clung tightly to Nate.

"Oh, my God," Y/N gasped, his head falling back as his body arched. His nails dug into Nate's shoulders, desperate for something to hold onto as Nate set a steady rhythm, lifting and lowering him with practiced ease.

Nate's grip tightened, his strong hands guiding Y/N's movements with precision. His own breath was ragged, his chest heaving as he watched Y/N's reactions. The sight of Y/N like this—completely undone, his head tilted back, his lips parted in breathless moans—was enough to make Nate's control waver.

"You feel so fucking good," Nate muttered, his voice rough and unsteady as he shifted slightly, angling his thrusts to hit deeper. The change drew a sharp cry from Y/N, whose thighs tightened reflexively around Nate's waist.

"Shit—Nate," Y/N gasped, his voice breaking as the pleasure built to a fever pitch. His body moved in perfect sync with Nate's, each slide and thrust pushing him closer to the edge.

Nate grinned through his own ragged breaths, his smirk tinged with something softer as he leaned in, pressing his forehead against Y/N's. "I've got you," he murmured again, his voice a little quieter, but no less certain.

Y/N's hands slid to the back of Nate's neck, his fingers tangling in his hair as he held on tightly. The room felt like it was spinning, the only grounding force the steady strength of Nate's movements and the heat of his touch.

"Don't stop," Y/N whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with urgency.

Nate let out a low chuckle, his grip on Y/N tightening even further. "Wasn't planning on it," he replied, his tone laced with determination as he quickened his pace, driving them both toward the edge with every deliberate motion.

The heat in the room was almost unbearable, the air thick with the mingling scents of sweat and desire. At some point, their frantic movements had carried them off the desk and onto the floor, the hard surface cool against their heated skin. Neither of them seemed to notice or care. Their focus was entirely on each other, their bodies entangled in a rhythm that had long since blurred the lines between urgency and passion.

Y/N was straddling Nate's lap, his back arched as he leaned against Nate's broad chest for support. Nate's arms were wrapped tightly around him, one hand gripping Y/N's hip with bruising force while the other slid up to rest lightly on his neck. The possessive hold sent a thrill through Y/N, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as Nate's hips thrust upward in a relentless, unyielding rhythm.

The sounds of their movements filled the room—the soft slap of skin against skin, the creak of the floor beneath them, and the unrestrained moans that spilled from Y/N's lips. His hands braced against Nate's thighs, his nails digging into the firm muscle as he tried to ground himself against the overwhelming sensations.

"Look at you," Nate murmured, his voice low and husky, the words brushing hot against Y/N's ear. "Completely falling apart for me."

Y/N shuddered at the sound, his body arching further into Nate's chest as another wave of pleasure coursed through him. "N-Nate..." he gasped, his voice trembling, though whether it was from exertion or raw emotion, even he wasn't sure.

Nate chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against Y/N's back as he leaned closer, his lips grazing the shell of Y/N's ear. "You feel so fucking good," he whispered, his voice rough with desire. "You're perfect like this. Taking everything I give you."

Y/N let out a soft, breathless moan, his head falling back against Nate's shoulder. The angle exposed the curve of his neck, and Nate didn't waste the opportunity. His lips trailed along Y/N's throat, leaving a path of heated kisses that made Y/N's body tremble.

"Can't get enough of you," Nate murmured, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just beneath Y/N's jaw. His hand on Y/N's neck tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind him who was in control. "The way you move, the way you sound... it's all mine."

The possessiveness in Nate's voice sent a shiver down Y/N's spine, his body responding instinctively as he arched even further, pressing himself closer to Nate. His legs trembled, the relentless thrust of Nate's hips pushing him closer to the edge with every movement.

"Nate, I—" Y/N tried to speak, but the words dissolved into another moan, his voice cracking as the intensity of the moment overwhelmed him.

"That's it," Nate growled, his grip on Y/N's hip tightening as he adjusted his angle slightly, hitting a spot that made Y/N cry out. "Let me hear you. Don't hold back."

Y/N didn't. His moans grew louder, more desperate, his hands clawing at Nate's thighs as he tilted his head back to meet Nate's gaze. The raw hunger in Nate's eyes was almost too much to bear, but Y/N couldn't look away.

"You're so fucking beautiful," Nate whispered, his voice softening just slightly as his hand slid from Y/N's neck to cradle the side of his face. His thumb brushed over Y/N's cheek as he leaned in, pressing a hot, lingering kiss to the corner of Y/N's mouth.

The combination of Nate's words, his touch, and the overwhelming sensation of their bodies moving together was too much. Y/N let out a choked gasp, his body tensing as he felt himself hurtling toward the edge, completely consumed by the moment.

The intensity between them reached its breaking point as Y/N's body trembled uncontrollably, overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure coursing through him. His breathing grew ragged, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession as his back arched against Nate's chest. Every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire, the sensation building to an almost unbearable peak.

"Nate," Y/N gasped, his voice shaky and broken as his hands scrambled for purchase on Nate's thighs. His entire body tensed, his moans growing louder and more desperate until he finally reached his climax. A choked cry escaped his lips as he released, his hot stream spilling onto his stomach in shuddering waves.

Nate's breath hitched, his own body responding to the sight and feel of Y/N unraveling in his arms. His grip on Y/N's hips tightened briefly before his hand moved, his fingers curling firmly around Y/N's dick.

"You're a fucking vision," Nate muttered, his voice rough with awe and desire as he began to stroke Y/N with deliberate care, his pace slow but firm. Y/N whimpered at the overstimulation, his body trembling even more as Nate's movements sent aftershocks of pleasure rippling through him.

Nate leaned forward, his breath warm against Y/N's neck as he whispered, "Let me take care of you."

Without waiting for a response, Nate's hand slowed, his thumb brushing over the sensitive head of Y/N's length. The slickness of Y/N's release made every movement fluid, and Nate's other hand slid along Y/N's chest, pulling him closer against his broad frame.

Y/N let out a soft whimper, his head falling back against Nate's shoulder as he felt the heat of Nate's lips ghost against his ear. "Nate—" he started, his voice weak and trembling.

"Shh," Nate murmured, his tone softer now, almost reverent. He shifted slightly, guiding Y/N's release onto his fingers before lifting his hand.

The moment Y/N registered what Nate was about to do, his eyes widened slightly, his cheeks flushing even deeper. But before he could say anything, Nate brought his hand to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste the slick warmth.

The act was slow and deliberate, Nate's gaze locked onto Y/N's as he licked the cum from his fingers, his expression a mix of cocky satisfaction and something more intimate. "Sweet," Nate murmured, his voice low and teasing as he let his tongue trail along his fingers again, savoring the taste.

Y/N's breath caught in his throat, his body trembling anew at the sight. "You're insane," he managed to whisper, though his voice lacked any real conviction.

Nate smirked, his free hand sliding up to cradle Y/N's jaw, tilting his face slightly to meet his gaze. "And you love it," he replied, his tone filled with quiet confidence as he leaned in, brushing his lips softly against Y/N's.

The kiss was brief but searing, the taste of Y/N's release lingering faintly on Nate's lips as he pulled back just enough to whisper, "I could do this all night."

Y/N shivered at the promise in Nate's voice, his hands clutching at Nate's thighs for stability as the tension between them simmered, the moment charged with the unspoken acknowledgment of how deeply they were losing themselves in each other.

A movement between them was deliberate, every touch igniting sparks that only seemed to grow brighter and hotter. Nate's hands moved with practiced care as he guided Y/N down, his strong grip on Y/N's hips firm but not rough.

"Trust me," Nate murmured, his voice low and breathy, sending a shiver down Y/N's spine.

Y/N obeyed, his body sinking forward until his hands pressed against the floor, his knees steady beneath him. His back arched instinctively, the position making him hyperaware of every point of contact between them. He felt Nate's hands slide along his waist, thumbs pressing into the dip of his back, grounding him as he shifted into place.

"Perfect," Nate whispered, his tone husky with desire. The word carried a weight that made Y/N's cheeks flush, though there was no time to linger on it as Nate adjusted behind him.

Nate started slowly, the deliberate press of his hips almost agonizing as he slid into Y/N with a precision that left them both breathless. Y/N let out a soft moan, his fingers curling against the floor as Nate filled him completely.

The initial pace was slow, almost teasing, Nate's movements fluid and rhythmic. His hands gripped Y/N's waist, pulling him back to meet each thrust with a control that spoke volumes about his strength and focus. Y/N couldn't help the soft, broken sounds that spilled from his lips, his body arching further into the sensation.

"Nate," Y/N gasped, his voice trembling as the pleasure built steadily, his breaths coming in short, desperate bursts.

Hearing Y/N say his name like that sent a jolt of raw need through Nate's chest. His grip on Y/N's waist tightened, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he adjusted his angle slightly. The next thrust drew a sharp cry from Y/N, his back bowing even more as the intensity surged.

"Found it," Nate muttered, his voice low and smug, though there was an edge of breathlessness that betrayed how much control he was losing.

Y/N turned his head slightly, trying to glare over his shoulder, but the expression faltered as another deep thrust sent a wave of pleasure crashing through him. "Cocky," Y/N managed to mutter, though the word dissolved into a moan.

Nate chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating in his chest as he leaned forward slightly, his hands moving to grip Y/N's hips even tighter. "You're not complaining," he countered, his voice rough and dripping with satisfaction.

And then he sped up.

The deliberate rhythm gave way to something faster, more primal, Nate's hips snapping forward with a force that made Y/N cry out. Each thrust was perfectly angled, driving deeper and harder, leaving Y/N gasping and trembling beneath him. The desk creaked faintly from the impact of their movements, though neither paid it any attention.

"You're incredible," Nate murmured, his voice raw with emotion as he leaned over Y/N, his chest brushing against Y/N's back. His lips found the curve of Y/N's shoulder, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along his skin.

Y/N whimpered at the contact, his body shuddering as the combination of Nate's thrusts and his touch sent him spiraling closer to the edge again. "Nate, I—" Y/N tried to speak, but the words dissolved into a moan as Nate's pace quickened again, leaving him no room to think.

"Let go," Nate whispered, his voice rough but tender as his hands slid up Y/N's sides, pulling him even closer. "I've got you."

The room felt like it was on fire, the heat between them radiating out in waves that blurred the edges of reality. Nate's movements, once driven by relentless urgency, now grew more deliberate, each thrust a mix of passion and control as the tension in his body built to its breaking point. His breathing was ragged, his chest heaving with each motion as sweat dripped down his temple, mingling with the heat of Y/N's skin beneath him.

Y/N's moans had grown softer, more breathless, as his body trembled under Nate's touch. His hands clawed weakly at the floor, his strength fading, though the intensity in his voice never wavered. Every movement sent a shudder through him, every deep, precise thrust drawing him closer to the edge of blissful exhaustion.

Nate's grip on Y/N's hips tightened, his fingers pressing firmly into the slick skin as his pace began to stutter. His usually confident exterior had all but crumbled, his voice raw and husky as he groaned Y/N's name, the sound muffled against Y/N's shoulder.

"Y/N... I'm—" Nate's voice cracked, and the tremor in his words betrayed just how close he was.

Y/N barely had the energy to respond, his own body trembling with the aftermath of his release, but he managed a soft, encouraging sound that sent Nate tumbling over the edge.

With one final thrust, Nate buried himself deep inside Y/N, his hips pressing firmly against him as he let out a low, guttural groan. His body tensed, every muscle locking up as he released his hot seed in a series of sharp, shuddering waves. The warmth spread between them, the sensation drawing a soft whimper from Y/N, whose body instinctively arched into Nate's.

For a moment, neither of them moved, their bodies frozen in the overwhelming intensity of the moment. Nate's forehead rested against Y/N's back, his breaths ragged and uneven as he tried to recover. His hands, still gripping Y/N's waist, softened their hold, his fingers brushing over the flushed skin in a gesture that felt almost apologetic.

As the high began to ebb, Nate let out a shaky exhale, his hips moving in a slow, languid rhythm as he rode out the last of his release. Each movement was softer, more deliberate, as if he were reluctant to let go of the connection they'd shared.

"Y/N," Nate murmured, his voice quieter now, the arrogance replaced by something softer, more vulnerable.

Y/N hummed weakly in response, his body too spent to move but still leaning into Nate's every touch.

Eventually, Nate stilled completely, his hands sliding from Y/N's waist as he slowly pulled out, careful not to disturb Y/N too much. The loss of contact drew a soft, involuntary whimper from Y/N, who shifted slightly, his body collapsing onto the floor with a quiet thud.

Y/N rolled onto his side, his body curling slightly as his chest heaved, trying to catch his breath. His eyes fluttered closed, the exhaustion pulling at him like a weight. His skin was slick with sweat, the heat of the moment still lingering, but he felt a faint sense of relief as the intensity gave way to a calm stillness.

Nate let himself fall back onto the floor beside Y/N, his arms sprawled out as he stared up at the ceiling. His chest rose and fell with each labored breath, his face flushed and damp with sweat. For a while, neither of them said anything, the silence filled only by the sound of their breathing.

As the seconds stretched into minutes, Nate turned his head slightly to glance at Y/N, who was still lying on his side, his face half-hidden by the crook of his arm. A faint smile tugged at the corner of Nate's lips as he let out a quiet chuckle, his voice rough and low.

"Well," Nate said finally, his tone laced with dry humor as he ran a hand through his damp hair. "That was... something."

Y/N let out a weak laugh, though it was more of a breathy exhale as he cracked one eye open to look at Nate. "You're... so full of yourself," he muttered, though there was no bite in his tone, only a quiet amusement.

Nate smirked, shifting slightly so he could rest an arm behind his head. "You didn't seem to mind," he shot back, his voice carrying the faintest edge of cockiness.

Y/N rolled his eyes, though the small smile on his face betrayed him. He shifted again, curling up more comfortably on his side as his breathing finally began to steady.

"Well," Y/N drawled, his voice laced with teasing amusement as he propped himself up on one elbow, his hair a mess and his cheeks still flushed. "That was... decent."

Nate turned his head, arching an eyebrow at Y/N, his lips curling into a smirk. "Decent?" he echoed, his voice low and rough, still tinged with the aftermath of their exertion.

Y/N nodded, the playful grin on his face widening as he stretched languidly, clearly putting on a show. "Yeah, you know. Solid effort. Maybe a little... predictable," he teased, his tone light but dripping with mock arrogance.

Nate let out a quiet laugh, his smirk deepening as he pushed himself up onto his elbows, his sharp eyes locking onto Y/N's. "Predictable, huh?" he repeated, his voice carrying a dangerous edge of amusement.

Y/N shrugged, biting back a grin. "I mean, I've had better," he said with a casual wave of his hand, though the twitch of his lips betrayed the lie.

"Oh, is that right?" Nate asked, sitting up fully now, his body still radiating a quiet confidence. His smirk grew, his eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned closer to Y/N. "Because I seem to remember you being pretty quiet a few minutes ago."

Y/N's grin faltered just slightly, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink as he quickly tried to recover. "Quiet? I don't—"

"Yeah," Nate interrupted smoothly, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he moved closer, his face just inches from Y/N's. "You were quiet. Except for when you were moaning my name like a prayer."

Y/N's mouth opened to retort, but no words came out, his brain temporarily short-circuiting at Nate's words.

Nate tilted his head, his smirk growing even cockier as he leaned back, clearly relishing Y/N's stunned expression. "What was it you kept saying?" Nate mused, pretending to think as he rubbed his chin mockingly. "Oh, right. 'Nate, don't stop. Please, Nate.' Sound familiar?"

Y/N's jaw dropped, his face burning as he shoved Nate's shoulder in mock outrage. "You're such a jerk!"

Nate laughed, catching Y/N's wrist easily before pulling him closer, his smirk softening into something more affectionate. "Don't get mad, Y/N," he teased, his voice warm and playful. "You just made it too easy. And honestly..." He leaned in, his lips brushing against Y/N's ear as he whispered, "I liked hearing you say my name like that."

Y/N shivered at the words, his indignation faltering as he felt Nate's breath against his skin. "You're a dick," he muttered, though his voice had lost its bite, and the way his body relaxed against Nate's betrayed how much the teasing didn't bother him.

Nate chuckled, pulling back just enough to meet Y/N's gaze. "And you're adorable when you're flustered," he said, his tone soft but still carrying that teasing edge.

Y/N huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he tried to glare at Nate, though the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips ruined the effect. "I hate you," he said, though the words lacked any real venom.

"Sure you do," Nate replied, his smirk returning as he leaned back onto his hands, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

The room settled into a comfortable silence, the teasing fading into soft smiles and shared glances. And though neither of them said it, there was an unspoken understanding between them—a recognition of the connection they had just shared, one that went far beyond words or playful banter.

The first light of dawn filtered through the dormitory window, casting soft golden hues over the room. The space, usually cluttered with books, clothes, and the remnants of late-night study sessions, felt oddly serene. The air was still, save for the faint sounds of Y/N's soft, even breathing as he lay nestled against Nate's chest.

Nate was wide awake. He'd woken an hour earlier, his body naturally attuned to early football practices, but he hadn't moved. Instead, he stayed perfectly still, his arm draped protectively over Y/N's waist, holding him close as if afraid he might disappear.

Y/N's face was partially buried in the pillow, his hair messy and his lips slightly parted. There was a peacefulness about him, a vulnerability Nate wasn't used to seeing but found himself captivated by. His usual sharp tongue and quick comebacks were absent, replaced by the quiet rise and fall of his chest.

Nate couldn't tear his eyes away.

For the first time in a long time, he wasn't thinking about the pressure of his football career or the expectations placed on him by his family. His mind was entirely consumed by Y/N—by the softness of his features, the warmth of his skin against Nate's, and the steady rhythm of his breathing.

It was strange, this feeling. Foreign, yet not unwelcome. Nate had never been the type to dwell on emotions or let himself get caught up in things he couldn't control, but lying here with Y/N felt... different.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he thought back to the night before—the way Y/N had teased him, the way he'd surrendered to Nate's touch, and the way he'd said Nate's name in a voice that still sent shivers down his spine.

Mine, Nate thought, the word echoing in his mind with a possessiveness that surprised him. He hadn't just discovered something new about himself last night—he'd uncovered something he couldn't ignore.

He wanted Y/N. Not just in the fleeting, physical sense. He wanted more.

The thought should have scared him, but it didn't. Instead, it settled in his chest like a steady flame, warming him from the inside out.

As he studied Y/N's sleeping form, Nate's jaw tightened with determination. He didn't want to hide this—hide them. For the first time in his life, he didn't care what other people thought. His teammates, his friends, the judgmental whispers on campus—it didn't matter. He wanted people to know. He wanted them to see Y/N by his side and know that Y/N was his.

The thought made his chest swell, but it was quickly followed by a pang of doubt. He hadn't even talked to Y/N about what this was. What they were. He hadn't asked, hadn't clarified, hadn't dared to put a label on the feelings swirling inside him.

But then again, why would he? He wasn't the type to ask permission or seek validation. He'd always been the one to take what he wanted, and this felt no different.

Still, Nate thought, his gaze softening as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from Y/N's face. His fingers lingered for a moment, the touch light and reverent.

Y/N stirred slightly, letting out a small, sleepy hum as he shifted closer to Nate, his body instinctively seeking warmth. Nate couldn't help the quiet chuckle that escaped him, his hand moving to rest gently against Y/N's cheek.

"Sleep well, troublemaker," Nate murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't need to say the rest—the things he was still figuring out, the emotions that felt too big to put into words. For now, this was enough.

As the morning sun climbed higher in the sky, casting its light over the room, Nate let himself relax, holding Y/N close and silently vowing that no matter what, he wouldn't let this slip through his fingers.

#x male reader #gay #nate jacobs #nate jacobs x male reader #jacob elordi #Jacob elordi x male reader

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purelyfiction · 1 year ago

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NFL QB Jake 'Hangman' Seresin AU x Popstar F!Reader

Summary: NFL Quarterback Jacob Seresin is in hot water from a streak of bad decisions, just as you go through the worst public breakup of your life. With people slandering both of your reputations, your publicists hatch a plan to bring both of you back into favor and keep the heat off until spring - that is if you can keep up the facade.

Word Count: 5,334 words

Author Note: I know I have two other outstanding Top Gun fics and I swear I'm trying to get those going but I am writing what sparks joy and well.... this certainly does. || Also!! Reader's stage name is 'Celeste' with 'Este' as the nickname. So no one gets confuseddddd

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You'd never anticipated to start the biggest year of your life absolutely gutted, yet here you are. Your boyfriend – well, ex-boyfriend, severed what you had thought to be a loving, trusting and safe relationship, rather unexpectedly on New Year's Eve. Then he'd gone to the press to relay that you were a horrible person, a terrible girlfriend, too involved in your work to even bother paying attention to anyone else. The timing couldn't be worse, since you were about to start your first ever stadium tour in the spring.

The result had been you hiding away in your little oasis that was your condo in California’s southern escape of San Diego. You’d stayed off the internet, binging TV shows that you’d been too busy to pay attention to and immersing yourself in anything you could, to erase the four year relationship you’d been splintered from. The garbage people probably wondered why there were a near dozen empty quarter pints of ice cream in your recycling bin, but that wasn’t for them to care about. At least you’d recycled them.

Now, three weeks into the new year, with your favorite Chinese on the way, you sit on your couch going over tour visuals. Your lighting engineer is rambling on the line as you hear the gate buzzer go off. You’re quick to collect your dinner as one of the others on the line gasp and quickly mute their mic. “What?” You quip, walking to your expansive kitchen and dropping the large paper bag down. You’re half paying attention when the employee brushes you off, as your hand pulls container after container of food from the magical Mary Poppins-style bag. Getting to the bottom, you grasp for a pair of chopsticks, only to find several sets of them, along with a dozen fortune cookies. You take a moment to look over your four entrees and styrofoam container of sushi. The audacity of them to think you would be sharing any of this.

Finally, you address the matter of your dramatic tech director. “What’s the deal over there Hollywood?” You chide, before your phone is ringing, leaving you to hang up the video call to answer the phone. It’s your publicist and you know better than to let her calls go unanswered.

“Check your inbox.” Her voice is frigid instead of it’s usually cheery demeanor.

“Hello to you too?” Begrudgingly, you do as she commands, finding the email she sent to you.

Jonah Carter agreed to sit down for an interview with UsWeekly, post-breakup to clear the air and to make sure no one else would fall for his ex-girlfriend's (Celeste) playful, girl-next-door-ish facade.

"At first, it felt like a dream come true," Carter, an up-and-coming actor within his own right, said almost sheepishly. "I thought she was talented and kind, but I should've known it was too good to be true."

But there's more to this pop-star than Jonah says meets the eye. In addition to the vanity and self-importance that seems to plague this generation's starlets, Este was a vindictive slob who routinely talked behind the back of even her closest friends. "It makes me wonder what she's saying about me, now, after everything I've heard her say about those who think are closest to her." The concern for others is written very clearly on the actor’s face as he speaks. When I question the songstress’ messages about authenticity, the man adjusts in his seat as he holds back a laugh.

"She'd like you to believe she writes all her own music, but I'm not sure she could write a full sentence without the help of her team," Jonah chuckled nervously into his coffee. "Sorry, that was rude. I don't want to stoop to her level." Cowed brown eyes made me wonder what else he had endured behind closed doors. It struck a chord within me.

“Why did you stay as long as you had if this was what you were facing?” I ask him. The expression of his kind features morphs into despair.

“When we first met, Celeste was someone I admired. Her compassion, her drive and her dedication to the things she valued spoke so deeply to what I did, what I still do-” he fumbles as he attempts to source the proper words, “They just… weren’t her beliefs. They were her team’s.” Jonah lets out a pained sound, “I think when we got toward the end of it, I realized that she has this way of manipulating what she says, how she acts, to make herself look good. She puts on a show, on and off the stage and you pay for it one way or another. So, I knew what she was capable of. I knew she could be that person if she really wanted to and I wanted so badly to help her see that. I eventually learned that people see what they want to see.”

God, what a load of hot garbage this was. It was a particularly rare batch, clearly it had been baking in a dumpster in the scorching sun with the lid closed. All damp, with a horrendous mix of something rotting and old crusty seaweed.

The tour was supposed to be announced on the first of the month and here your ex was selling stories (horribly narrated and mangled stories) to the press. You might as well have been kicking puppies at this point.

“Isn’t he just swell? Nothing but peak wisdom from good ol’ Jonah.” Your eyes could’ve strained themselves with how far back they rolled. Probably the only time he’d ever made them do that too.

“I’ve already called a team together to brainstorm. I don't want you to respond. Stay offline, away from all of it and don't entertain any of the discourse. Not until I have something to work with.”

“None of it is true we both know that-” You begin to laugh but she cuts you off.

“As much as I want to be on your side here, we are working to put out a fire. Your silence the last three weeks has put you at a massive disadvantage and frankly? The public eye doesn’t see you in the greatest space right now.” You know she’s right. She always is, and right now ‘Celeste’ was synonymous with ‘cynical, fake and fraudulent’. You wouldn’t be shocked if the uproar demanded you be canceled based off of this testimony.

It wasn’t all but two days later that you were called in by your PR team. Into the office in New York for the first time since before Thanksgiving. It had been a busy end of the year and now that the new one was coming in so ferociously you weren’t looking toward any of the things you once had been. This was the first time back into the light and so you had made sure that the inevitable cameras had something to look at. You’d dressed yourself in your favorites, in an effort to boost your confidence as best as you could. Putting on a show, just like you had been when things had been on the rocks with Jonah.

Getting to the office, you’re nearly trampled with the amount of people that swarm you. It’s not normally this bad - hell it’s never this bad. It isn’t until you catch sight of a football jersey and an ESPN logo that your brow furrows. Odd.

Stepping into the building, you’re pushing your sunglasses up onto your head, looking down at your ringing phone and trying to slide your coat off simultaneously. Instead, you crash right into what you think is a wall, but is instead a broad man, looking rather lost.

“Easy there, Twinkle Toes.” You guffaw and look up at the blonde man before returning your eyes toward your feet. Of course, the bedazzled statement boots on your feet call attention to themselves before the rest of the outfit can balance itself out.

“Alright, Prince Charming, you first.” You snicker before stepping out of his way and start to the elevator. Unfortunately for you, he’s apparently heading your way as well, needing access to the lift to the next floor.

“Prince Charming, huh? I mean I’ve been called worse.” His shoulders roll backwards as the elevator dings to one of the other floors. You keep your head trained forward, suddenly remembering the rule you’d been given. Stay quiet, don’t engage. And here you were giving sass to a stranger and showing up in bedazzled booties. You were really digging this grave deeper than necessary. So, instead of giving him another sassy response, you keep your eyes locked to the neon numbers as the elevator passes each floor. “Oh so, now I’m getting a cold shoulder? Darn, I was really ready to ask you all about the boots on your feet, too.” You can’t help but let your eyes move back over to the broad male, just out of the corner of your eye. His face is completely locked on you, shamelessly at that. “They expensive? They got that waxy red paint on the bottoms of ‘em?” Silently, you turn one of your feet up to give him a glimpse at the blue bottom of the shoe. “Huh, blue. That’s fun. That more expensive than the LouButton or whatever they are?” Finally the elevator reaches your floor, hopefully shutting this chatterbox up for the time being. Yet the questions continue like an immature toddler as you rise up the floors - going to the same floor nonetheless. “Hey, you’re that Celeste chick aren’t ya?”

“Yes.” You finally answer one of his questions, his face lighting up.

“Oh look at that, she cracks.” Another eye roll times well with the sound of the elevator reaching the desired floor. Instead of responding, you quickly find your way through the glass hallways and to the desired room. You are so glad to be in the presence of the familiar group, the stranger in the elevator having rattled your composure somewhat. Your manager comes in with a cup of coffee and a smile, which immediately puts one on yours.

“You didn’t have to do that!” You cheer, reaching out for it as she sits beside you.

“When you see what Rachel has come up with, you’re going to need it.” Oh. Reassuring.

You see her point when Prince Charming steps into the board room, followed by a host of men in dress clothes and suits, all matching the blue soles of your boots. Charming sits directly across from you, a hand wiggling his fingers as he waves at you. Oh good.

“Thank you everyone for coming. I know this is a very polarizing group, so before we get ahead of ourselves, I want to introduce Celeste, or Este as we all have come to call her over the years.” Awkwardly, you wave at the foreign men. They grunt and nod. You were already having doubts and not a word had been spoken on their end. “I also want to introduce Beau Simpson, public relations coordinator for the San Diego Sea Lions, Coach Natasha Trace, and Sea Lions owner, Tom Kazansky.”

Sea Lions? As in the NFL team that had been built not even three years ago but had made it to all three playoffs in their short time? The one that Jonah had ridiculed immensely when it joined the league because ‘California doesn’t need another group of inflated egos in the league’?

“I’m really feeling the love here, Rach.” Charming speaks up and the raven haired woman on the other side of the table sighs.

“This is Jacob Seresin, starting quarterback for the Sea Lions.” The coach speaks, the blonde man brushing off her introduction.

“No need for full names, Trace. Clearly we only do the stage name around here.” That was a clear jab to you if you’d ever heard it. “Hangman’s what they call me.” His hand juts across the glass, toward you. Your hands stay tucked under your biceps.

“Pleasure to meet you.” It’s passive, turning to your team leader. “Rachel. I’m not seeing a connection here.”

“Jacob is in the same pot of hot water you’re in.” Your attention moves to the similarly broad man who stands up, towering over Rachel. “We feel as though we can spin this to both of your advantages. Jake needs to stop sleeping around–”

“Easy now, Simpson.” The eldest in the room stands up and he gives you a kind smile. It’s not a farce though. You’re not entirely sure what makes it so genuine, but you smile in return of seeing him stand, despite it taking a slight bit of effort to do so. “What he means is, Jake’s professional status has changed due to the words of someone else and we’re determined to alter that. Rachel identified this and made quite the proposal.” The young woman seems all too cheery to cut off the old man.

“You’re both having relationship woes–” The raven haired woman on Jacob’s team speaks under her breath.

“Wouldn’t call them relationships.”

“And by putting you two together, we feel as though we can put you into a positive light. Let’s face it, putting two very successful, and attractive people who are already in the spotlight allows people to follow the developing love story. Este attends games, plays the WAG card, has an opportunity to be seen in the public eye more frequently and dispels the ill-spoken words that were published about her this week. Jake gets the proof that he isn’t just a love-em-and-leave-em type.” Your eyes spell out the doubt you’re feeling, looking at your team who is just as skeptical. “That’s just the beginning! Celeste is going on tour this year. Stadiums all across the country have her booked and ready for the summer. We have a captive audience already following these games to see Este and Jake together, and we get brand recognition. The conversations that will come as she gets to witness her betrothed play in a stadium she would be performing in that very summer.”

Now you see where the benefit actually is. Clearing your name while simultaneously promoting your tour in the process. Seeing stadiums you’ve booked and would hopefully sell out.

“So how are you proposing this works? We’ll need a start, an end - a story on how we met–”

“Well,” Beau settles in his seat, twisting in the desk chair as he draws in the attention of the group, “we have the major details hypothesized. Rachel and I will work with one another to get the rest of it together. For now, you two met at a New Years Eve party.”

Oh joy. Now you get to remember that bitter break-up that led you here, every time you speak about him.

The man looks like he walked out of a surfing magazine, as it were. Now, the scowl on his features paints him as a devil. Long hair, muscular arms on display as he leans into the table in front of him.

“If we don’t do this?” Jake leans back in his chair, a hand coming to fiddle with the lingering 5 o’clock shadow that he has omitted in his morning routine.

“We don’t do this and there will be a lack of support for the Sea Lions. You’ll have painted the entire team as jackasses who can’t focus to save their life, especially if you continue to party and hook up with whomever your dick has the hots for that night-” Beau has gone off the handle and Tom speaks up again.

“The point is, public favor will stay low and it will not bode well for the team. With a lack of support, we have empty seats. Empty seats translates to less viewers, then to less money and you know the song and dance. Not to mention morale for the upcoming playoffs. We need to keep the team happy, Hangman. It’s time to do something to benefit everyone.”

Jake’s expression deepens, as though he was a young child just scolded by his father for his poor behavior. Green eyes shift and face you, his hand jutting out toward you.

“I’m in.” His hand hovers. Waiting for you to join him in this grand scheme. Glancing at your own team, they look rather haunted. At this point, it was this or to hope that a long string of possible good stories and fan interactions can redeem you.

You want this to pass. And if this would make it go faster… you grab Jake’s hand firmly.

“What’s there to lose?”

You went back onto social media. Posted some photos you’d taken with friends back at the beginning of the month, from the worst party of your life. The photos at least were cute and you loved the dress you’d gotten to wear. Luckily these photos were all taken prior to midnight. So there were no red eyes. No ruined mascara and glitter across your cheeks. No freezing car rides home and empty beds.

Mindlessly, you scroll through the comments.

Flameth: can still make the whole place shimmer ✨

RunTao: phony photos

Romanacent: so glad to see you’re not letting him get to you!

H_ngm_n: you’re still gonna let me borrow those boots right

It’s the last one you’d been keeping an eye out for. Boots? Looking back at the photo, you scroll through the carousel until you spot them.

The same shiny sparkly rhinestone boots you’d worn to your meeting.

Celeste: @h_ngm_n I’m a woman of my word, of course 🤗

Not even a week goes by before you’re ‘spontaneously’ at a bar in LA. Jake has been there for the last two hours, as he insisted you both show up alone and then end up leaving together. You eventually found him in the VIP section, drinking with his buddies.

You made sure to keep your distance for a few minutes - after all, his friends had no idea this was going down. The only people who knew about this little arrangement were your respective PR teams. That was it. No one else from your teams, your friends and family, absolutely no one knew what your little plan was. Maybe you should just leave. It was a verbal contract, you didn’t sign anything, you were just trying to make this work for the two of you-

The bartender pulls you from your deliberations. There is now a drink that you certainly didn’t order sitting in front of you. Well there was no going back now. Jake had likely made a show of sending over the drink and now you had to go through with this. Glancing over your shoulder, you see the jock, legs spread, arms resting on the back of the booth chair. Green eyes lock in your direction and send a cocky wink as a garnish to your drink.

You are about to win your first Oscar with this performance. Throwing on a grin, you pick up the drink and easily sashay your way over to him and his football buddies. Some flash titanium wedding bands, some platinum. Some aren’t wearing them at all, like your date, mister 83 who leans forward upon your approach. “Well, well, well, long time no see hot shot.”

“Speak for yourself, pop star.” Jake stands to greet you, his arms coming around you, carefully as to not spill either of your drinks. You catch a whiff of his cologne when he does so. It’s rich, familiar in the way it reminds you of summers camping. Bonfire smoke and smores. Yet clean, like when you came home to a clean house, citrus floor cleaner lingering in the halls. Pulling back, you almost move forward again to sit in it. Easy does it.

“Oh come on, three weeks isn’t that long.” You chide. While most of his body has pulled away from the hug, his free hand still sits on your waist, warm against the AC of the exclusive bar.

“Technically it was a year ago.” Jake smirks before taking a sip of his drink and you want to groan. So you do. But spin it into something more playful.

“Observant, are we?” You nearly snarl as you take a sip of your drink, Jake’s colleagues standing up. The one who’d sat right next to him grins and extends a hand. He’s tall, lean but has a stunning smile as he steps your way.

“Not sure we’ve met. Javy Machado, running back, San Diego Sea Lions-” the blonde looks at his friend with an amused scoff.

“I think she knows who the Sea Lions are, Jav.” The look on the captain’s face is one of skepticism and amusement. You were here to dispel rumors. So, as much as you’d like to smack Jake for being a dick to his friend, you shake his teammate’s hand instead

“In passing. I don’t follow football closely, but I get by. Celeste.” The smile on your face is genuine as the next player stands. Kind eyes, a domestic bar of hair on his upper lip and the build of a pickup truck, he goes for a quick one armed hug. When he lets go, you have to wipe the temptation of any swooning you were compelled to do. Especially since a gold band glistens on his left hand.

You’re here for Jake anyways.

“Name’s Bradley Bradshaw. They call me Rooster.” Your eyebrow furrows as your head twists. Before you can ask, another man on the other side of the room laughs.

“You should hear him on the field when he’s sacking someone.” This one, curls and meticulously groomed facial hair to boot, leans forward and shakes your hand kindly. “I’m Mickey. That back there is Bob.”

True to his word, at the end of the bench is a long haired man, tucked into his phone and fiddling with a ring. He doesn’t seem to match the energy of the rest of the group. Curious. “Bob!” He glances up at the sound of his name, blue eyes flitting from face to face before spotting you. When he does he breaks out into a smile.

“Celeste! Gosh, wow it’s so cool to meet you! My girls adore your music.” This catches Jake’s attention, a brow popping up.

“Aren’t both of ‘em less than five?” He asks and Bob looks between the two of you.

“Yeah? It’s never too early to introduce them to great music and influential women.” There’s no faking the smile on your face as you reach over and shake his hand. When you do, you look at Jake with a ‘would you look at that’ coded grin.

“That’s amazing to hear! I’m glad they have fun with it! That’s why I do it.” You glance back at Jake as he comes behind you, hand shifting to the small of your back.

“Pay’s in the bathroom, I’m sure you’ll meet him sometime later tonight.” The quarterback gives a nod to his group, before guiding the two of you to a high top table not too far from them. When you sit down he looks at you with a laugh. “Flirt much?”

“Excuse me?” Jumping to the defense, you watch Jake roll his eyes and then look back at Bradley, before facing you.

“You were practically eye-fucking him.”

“Was not.”

“He’s happily married, leave him be.” The blonde sips at his drink and you can’t help but laugh when you realize he’s giving you a hard time.

“Right, right, guess I’ll bother you instead.” The tease is off your lips in two seconds. Maybe he was right, you were coming off strong. You huff and sink into yourself briefly. “I don’t know if you realized this, but I haven’t had ‘flirt’,” your fingers mark the quotation marks in the air, “with anyone in a while. Let alone fake it.”

Jake leans back in his chair, downing the rest of his beverage a smirk making way when he sets the glass down.

“Don’t worry, you won’t be faking it for long.”

The two of you sat at that table for probably an hour, bickering over which of the Pirates of The Caribbean movies were the best, and why glitter was a detriment to society. Another round of drinks and the football star return to the table as he laughs when he spills a little of your overflowing drink.

“No, no I assure you. Glitter originated in some high tech nuclear weapons factory to make the enemy go insane upon introducing it to an environment.” He pushes your drink toward you as you pull your hair back. Not only were you not anticipating for him to be this passionate about it, but you weren’t planning on the night going like this.

You were enjoying yourself. Jake had told you about his time at UT, six years spent studying communications no less.

It made sense when you really dissected it. Jake had the ease to hold someone’s attention: he’d held yours this long after all, and he was well spoken. Both were things that were shocking to you. He soon enough revealed the plan had always been football. Communications was for post-retirement, when he got tired out and wanted to be back in the stadiums.

Stories of his dad commentating his high school games came fondly before he asked about your background. You were a bit hesitant to divulge too much, but what you had was pretty bare-bones.

Music had always been a hobby but never a career choice. You’d planned to go into school for a degree in education, a masters in English. Go and teach for a bit before getting your PhD in some niche of the world of writing and then become a professor at your alma mater.

With the rise of social media and the multitudinous connections of the internet, a little original song of yours got popular. Local radio picked it up and then your label signed you.

“It all was pretty spontaneous, really,” you answer. “My career was in no way by design, but… I wouldn’t change it.” The smile on your face is small, but genuine as your hair falls back around your face. Tracing the rim of your glass, you keep your eyes down before a hand pushes your hair out of your face. Coming eye to eye with him, he grins.

“Guess it was written in the stars then.” His response catches you. Jake’s eyes are much softer than when you’d approached him earlier. They were dark, focused and possibly a little mischievous. Now? They were gentle. Every shade reassured you that the boisterous man you’d seen in the office and the press was nothing like the man under the helmet.

It made far more sense to you now. How he’d gotten women hooked on him. The abrasiveness and bold exterior was the casing to the real character.

How many women had actually made it past the outside?

The rustling of a fabric on leather comes from in front of you, watching as the blonde pulls out a wad of cash from his pocket.

“Please tell me this isn’t you trying to buy my affection there, Seresin.” As he stands up, pushing his wallet back, the grin carved on his face doesn’t leave when he shakes his head.

“No, no, princess. This is for the bartender. Turns out you’re not a cheap date.” His knuckles wrap onto the table briefly before he disappears. You blame the blush on your face on the humidity inside the building.

The two of you bid your goodbyes, before starting to the front of the bar to exit. Reaching the street, it’s expectantly empty. He takes the side closest to the street as the two of you head down the way, toward the row of restaurants and shops that were quiet for the night.

“Are you hungry?” Jake’s voice breaks through the cold of late January air, looking at him quizzically.

“If you’re hungry we could go back-” His hand comes to your back again as he shakes his head.

“Oh-ho, no ma’am I promise, I’ve got something way better.”

Unfortunately, he was right. The two of you stand in the glow of food truck lighting, beyond messy tacos in hand. He’s watching you with a smirk on his face, obnoxiously chewing the fish taco in his hand.

“Is that not the best taco you’ve ever had?” Again, his voice is filled with ardor as he watches you attempt to maneuver the soft corn tortilla that seems to be spilling into your napkin.

“It’s… a taco.” You shrug, looking down at the brown beef meal in your hands. Jake shakes his head, still chewing.

“No, no, I will not have you slander Ganso’s Tacos. Absolutely not.” He sets his red basket down on a table, hand in a vice grip around his taco. “Here, open,” he maneuvers closer and you shake your head, backing up.

“I am not eating your taco!”

“Eat it!!” The two of you laugh. Finally, you concede and take a bite of the hand fed taco. When he finally takes it back to his plate, his expression eagerly waits for your reaction. One hand covers your mouth as you chew, nodding as Jake looks like he just stole the Mona Lisa without getting caught.

“You’re right.” One singular fist to the air and he’s back to scarfing down his tacos.

“I told you. Way better than bar food. This is by far the best taqueria in all of California. And I stand by that.”

With full stomachs and messy hands, the two of you start back toward the bar, where Jake’s parked. When you do, you finally notice a car has been tailing the two of you since you ordered your meal.

The crowd in front of the bar proves that your teams were certainly on to something. Flashes of light start in an onslaught, your hand coming to block your eyes. Still, you keep walking toward them, only for Jake to grab your hand and guide you toward his car.

Voices shout, questions sail through the air, your name, his name, Jonah’s, more questions about football- it all gets crammed into the cacophony before the passenger door opens under Jake’s hand, guiding you to your escape pod.

The driver side door causes the car to shake with an unceremonious thud. In seconds, the engine to the sports car is ignited and the two of you are underway.

It isn’t until you get about two miles out that one of you finally speaks.

“How long do you think it’s going to take for those to show up online?” White lines on the road disappear as you head further and further from the bars and closer to the hotel you were staying at for the weekend.

“I give it maybe six hours. Four if we’re lucky.” He laughs, but it doesn’t match the hearty ones he shared with you earlier.

A sports broadcast plays lowly on the radio, both of you overwhelmed by the cameras that stimulating conversation was far from what either of you were concerned with. It isn’t long until you spot your hotel. Jake navigates into the lane closest to the front of the building, pressing down on the brakes. You’re just about to unbuckle when he pulls back out into the other lane, lurching forward and away from your accommodation.

“Um. Hello?” You question. The car whips around a turn, green eyes fixated to the rear view. Shifting in your seat, you glance behind you.

“We’re being followed.” Jake just barely makes the light before it turns red, leaving the tailing SUV behind.

“It’s probably just paparazzi, no big deal.” It’s easy to shrug off for you, but Jake huffs.

“Yeah. And I’m not dropping you off at a hotel alone with vultures circling.” Navigating the CarPlay in the vehicle, he quickly moves to messages and asks his phone to send someone to your hotel to gather your things.

“Jake, I’m-”

“You’re staying with me.”

━◦○◦ⓢⓞ◦○◦ⓘⓣ◦○◦ⓖⓞⓔⓢ◦○◦━

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fic #top gun fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin #hangman fanfiction #hangman fanfic #hangman x reader #hangman

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realtapiocafan · 4 months ago

Text

NFL Tiers

@cazluvsu and @chasedeys did one, so i wanted to do one (and didn't want to do the stuff i actually should do lol)

it gets longggg

omg it's my team!

BENGALS (!!!): what it sounds like. they're my pookies <3. the team i hyperventilate over and has already shaved a few years off my life. ja'marr chase, my fav, an icon. won the fucking triple crown, opoy idc idc! joe! my mf qb and i'll defend him with my life. teeeeeee! god it's gonna kill me if the fo manages to fumble him. and trey! the lone bright spot in our defense, ahh, he tried his best! chase brown! heal fast and hopefully we grab another rb to split the workload. yoshi! great year for him, hopefully he keeps on improving! mims <3 <3 <3 and orlando! bright spots for the o-line! i think karras also had a really good year (just need to work on our guards...) jordan battle... i'm really sorry, but i cannot forgot that dropped defensive td. it's funny in hindsight, but i think my watch sent me a few warnings over my heartbeat at that time. i really hope cam bounce back next year! he was on an upward trend at the final five-game win streak! there's more that i'm forgetting, but i should probably stop here lol.

i'm so very fond of you

Vikings: oh Justin, genuinely pains my heart that minnesota sports team seem to have a curse upon them. justin deserves a playoff win! also never will i ever shut up about jjmarr and their specific brand of insanity. i really enjoy tell us with metullus and their defensive cellies were 🔥. camryn bynum copying the australian break dancer was gold. special mentions: white chicks, camp rock, parent trap, and high school musical! i also love watching jordan addison! hopefully jj mccarthy works out for them Lions: i love so many people! ah amon-ra! i loved his upside down celebration so much. sonic and knuckles, the nickname is so cute, i can't get over it. i love love love the dynamic of both people being Very Good at their positions, but Choosing to stay together on the same team (cough cough jayson tatum and jaylen brown). helplessly fond of jamo lol. the touchdown celebration was deserving of a fine, but like. it was hilarious. also dj reader! oh and i'm insanely jealous that they like. randomly picked up jake bates from the xfl who is turning to be one of the best kickers in the nfl. i was really sad when aidan hutchinson got hurt. hopefully next year, they'll have better injury luck. Commanders: jayden, jayden, jayden! oh, rookie of the fucking century. he will come back next year, i believe deep in my heart! and the moment that terry realized they won the bucs game, ahhhh, that was sooo sweet. finally experienced some postseason success after Decades of Torture. also i'll never be able to think of frankie luvu without That Moment. Bills: 0-4 in sbs and 0-4 against the chiefs, ah, the Curse narrative pulls me in. also my brother's a bills fan. josh deserves a SB idc idc. love james cook (even if i think he should cut his hair, i've seen so many defenders try to take him down by pulling on it). kincaid, it was not on you and you! will! bounce! back! i also root heavily for keon coleman! yet another louisiana boy! and i will forever root for damar!

your storylines intrigue me...

Texans: ooh cj! if you've been following my tags, you know i'm completely obsessed with jayden/cj (and jayden/cj/bryce) and IE shit. he seems worse than the clips i saw of last year, but how much of that is on the o-line and the horrific wr injuries? i want to see him bounce back next year! and poor tank dell. prayers 🙏. i think stefon's a free agent? it'd be interesting if he stays or. not. i also love nico! hopefully next year all the wrs will stay healthy! great to see joe mix thriving! and derek stingley ahhh! i really hope we see him and ja'marr interacting in the pro bowl! Panthers: ooh bryce! that video of him turning around before the td was caught, like steph curry's look-away threes -i loved that so fucking much. also as said above, this trio of cali qbs has my hearttt. the Narrative that when cj loses, bryce wins... oh that. the angst potential. and omg, xavier legette. he did an interview with a european reporter who def had no clue what xavier was talking about. ah, his thick southern accent <3. i also saw a video where he skinned a squirrel to eat it (yes you read that right) and like. what. Jaguars: go BTJ! been obsessed with their head coach debacle, hopefully it works out for liam coen lol. also duval is objectively an awesome chant Giants: go Malik! i do hope they find a qb... Ravens: divisional rival but alas i do find their players intriguing 😔. lamar <3. so fucking good which is. unfortunate when we play them. but fun to watch against other teams. watching derrick henry run never gets old! he just never! ever! goes down! which also, fuck this division -four of the opoy candidates (lamar, derrick, joe, and ja'marr) are from the afc north. i'm getting pulled into marlon humphrey's twitter. if there was anyone who could give ja'marr a run for his money as 'chiefs greatest hater', it would be marlon. also kyle <3. also very funny. who else... ooh zay! best wishes for a speedy recovery! Cowboys: really CeeDee is too pretty for that franchise. i suppose i also like micah too (is this a safe space to admit that i like ceedee/micah?)

I have history with you

Packers: dad's a fan and rants about christian watson's drops. i made a birthday card with a packers helmet one year 🙂. i'm also a fan of Weight of the Franchise narratives, and honestly it has to be hard for Jordan Love, with the legacy of Brett Favre and Aaron Rodgers (both of whom I Hate for different reasons but were. objectively. good at football). and Josh Jacobs 😤. very unpopular opinion probably and i'm probably evil for this but jaire griddying in front of justin... sparked some thoughts in me ngl... Niners: mom's a fan and I like fred. also i feel soooo bad for them this year. like it wasn't just injuries and whatever tf that campbell thing was, but some players lost CHILDREN. a player got fucking shot. a year from hell fr. Falcons: in fifth grade we had to choose a football team for -actually i forgot why. learning more about different states i think, being like. 10. i wanted the dolphins, got the falcons instead. i remember watching the falcons-patriots superbowl and when the falcons choked, well 🙃. i have a weird relationship with the falcons bc of that. i do think their socmed team is funny as hell. also jessie! keep on balling! Patriots: the Venn diagram of celtics and patriots fan is practically a circle so I see a lot of grousing of the state of the patriots o-line. do i think drake maye is the Savior? no, the patriots are kinda shit. but for their sake, i pray he won't be the next mac jones. i'll admit that i'm impressed by christian gonzalez. also sometimes it's fun to cheer for a team that has no real expectations.

I don't mind you

Saints: their cap situation is hell, omfg (my worst trait is that i take a sadistic pleasure in teams doing worse than my team). not on the team anymore, but lattimore-evans 😮‍💨 (hate sex. i'm thinking of hate sex). i thought the 'no murder in nola' for the two weeks the saints were winning, was very funny. Jets: that garrett wilson catch was insanity. the davante-rodgers storyline Intrigues me in so many ways. going to a loser franchise just to reunite with your ex qb... other than that and being amused by their inability to make the playoffs, i don't really have strong feelings on them. oh sauce, i suppose. he's funny! had a bit of a down year, hopefully he bounces back! Raiders: just looked up and remembered the black friday debacle ughhhh. we'll see if tom brady can save this franchise. afc west needs to become more competitive! i almosttt forgot about brock bowers but holy fuck, what a rookie season from him Bucs: again lattimore-evans... just 😮‍💨. also good on mike for getting his 1000 yds again! Titans: brian callahan good luck selecting a qb from this bunch. i also do root for tyler and chido! Dolphins: not fond of them on the mere fact that they're from florida (fuck the h***) but i don't hate them. i am so looking forward to the drama of tyreek trying to force his way out. also, their streak of not being able to win a playoff game is very funny, just like the jets being unable to get into the playoffs. fail once, fail twice, keep on failing (again, i take sadistic pleasure in seeing other teams struggle). i'm also fond of waddle from that youtube series with ja'marr and najee. Chargers: not the biggest justin herbert fan (ducks behind a wall). i do root for kristian fulton! and ladd mcconkey! Rams: i love saying puka nacua! and i am. so jealous of their d-line omg. aaron donald retired and look at them, fuck i want that for my team. Colts: anthony richardson saying he was tired was kinda crazy ngl. that's literally the only thing i can remember about them. that and drew locks legacy win against them. Seahawks: continuously baffled that geno's cousin is actually jeremiah love. genetics man. oh also! i like charbonnet. no reason, i just perk up when the announcers say his name! Cardinals: no one ever mentions them and for good reason. just as dysfunctional as the titans, raiders, and saints, but no one cares about them enough to bash them for it. i find that funny ngl. they're like the kid who sits in the back of the class and does nothing!

I hope you get relegated

Steelers: ugh, bumblebees. something about the yellow and black triggers something in me. i blame it on the divisional rival bs. sheer annoyances i can't stand to watch them. can't believe we let russell wilson drop 44 on us. 44. i do like najee (again bc of youtube series). i want to study george pickens like a bug. Bears: it gives me joy when i see another team doing worse than mine, but why the bears you may ask? one of those corners said shit about jayson tatum being benched in the olympics and in the following weeks, their field goal got blocked by the packers, vikings won in OT, and the infamous thanksgiving debacle. who said karma doesn't exist 😇. i do wish the best for caleb (those assholes making fun of him for painting his nails 😡)... hopefully next year, he just stops holding the ball so long... Broncos: no excuse for this one. i just get annoyed by them. also jayden is roty, get outta here with bo nix (that was mean, bo nix had a good season, just jayden has a historically great season). also the broncos game was so damn stressful i hold a grudge just because of it. we may have won that game but i nearly collapsed to my knees in public. i do like ps2, i admit.

I hate your fans

Eagles: I'm fond of a fair bit of their players actually! Saquon SB MVP is veryyy compelling to me. smtg about saying🖕to your shitty organization and then showing them how they fumbled you by winning a damn SB... idk what Jalen Hurts ever did to deserve the amount of hate i've seen. like yeah, he's not that good, but he's not that bad. i thought it was very funny that AJ was reading in the middle of a game and I saw a clip about his suicidal thoughts that fucked me over. I was crying. I find it hilarious how cooper dejean is one of the only white cornerbacks like. ever. Like the Rams d-line, i am very jealous of their o-line. Really, the Eagles could've been put in the Intriguing group -however their fans suck. Was watching the Commanders-Eagles game beatdown and there were some Eagles fans and I stfg I have never been so annoyed in my life. They get their own category.

i'm a human with morals

fuck deshaun watson

there exists a special place in hell for you

as always fuck the chiefs

#nfl #whew i'm tired #not tagging everyone and every team

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