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#he looks like a bimbo but is actually smart
lucius-the-sinful · 1 year
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computer! make that blorbo squishier!
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princessbellecerise · 10 months
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Snow With A Bimbo Reader
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──── ✧*・゚*✭˚・゚✧ ────
summary | Coryo loves how dumb you are. It makes him look even smarter
warnings | toxic!coryo, dumb!reader, slight innocent!reader, smut, slight housewife!reader
this is an eighteen plus fic. minors do not enter
divider by @princessbellecerise
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When he first met you at the academy, it was safe to say that from the moment he saw you, Snow was obsessed
You weren’t in the same class as him, though there was really no reason you ought to be because you were not nearly as smart as the other students, but he still noticed you in some classes
Coryo figured that your parents must have bought your way in, because bless your heart you are so dumb
When he first meets you, it’s almost pitiful how he notices that you’re nowhere near his academic level, but that’s okay because you sure are pretty
And despite being insanely attracted to power and intelligence, Coryo finds himself focusing all his attention on you
He can’t think of anything else in class other than the way your pretty little face scrunches up because you’re not understanding any of it, or the way your lips pout because you’re beyond lost
You’re just so beautifully stupid and cute and Coryo can’t stop thinking about how he can’t wait to get his claws into you
So at first he starts by tutoring you as way to get closer to you
God knows that you need it, and when he offers of course you accept because hello—everyone knows that Snow is on top
So, he begins to tutor you, and that’s all it is at first
A few flirty remarks here and there, like him telling you your hair looks pretty or your outfit fits you nice
Nothing too crazy, but the more time Coryo spends with you, the more you drive him insane
He has amazing self control because even though he wants to do nothing but grab you and kiss you the entire time you’re talking, he holds himself back
He takes it slow as to not scare you or confuse your dumb little mind. After all, you can only process so much
Which is why he doesn’t actually tutor you—not the hard stuff anyways. He just finds little easy thing for you to accomplish so he can watch as your face lights up when you solve something he’s done a million times before
He builds you up before he plans on breaking you down, before he plans on molding you into his perfect partner
Coryo will gain your trust at first and only when he’s got it will he strike
Like a snake, you don’t even see his plan or see him coming until he’s right there in front of you, poisoning you with his sweet lips and kissing you one day
It comes so sudden for you that you’re shocked, not even kissing him back till he’s squeezing your jaw a little so you let him in
He’ll kiss you deeply so that you can feel what he feels for you, so that you know just how desperately he wants you
Through his lips, he’ll spread his venom, and since you’re not smart enough to even know that you’ve been bit, you fall for it easily
You kiss him back, and your giggles when you pull away make Coryo smirk. He loves seeing you nervous around him and fuck; does he love tasting your pretty lips
Once you start agree to start dating him, it’s already too late for you. And for Coryo, it’s just the beginning
Coryo already has plans that you’re not apart of, but he’s excited to carry them out because you are everything that he needs
He needs someone that won’t question him, that will obey him and do everything he says. He needs to be in charge and with you, he is
Like a good little girl, you do everything Coryo tells you to do. Miss class for him, sit on his lap, stop doing your assignments
Pretty soon, he’s got it to where all you do is hang out with him. Make plans with him. Do things for him
He’s got you wrapped around his finger and you don’t even know it. You’re just so happy with him that you don’t even question it when he tells you to quit
“Leave the academy and I’ll take care of you. I promise,” Is what Coryo says, so you do
You stop attending class, you drop out and slowly you move from your home to be with Coryo in his
It’s a little packed, but you make it work especially with Tigris and his grandmother
They both adore you, though Tigris is a little concerned with you dropping out. She’ll try and persuade you to continue your education but don’t worry—Coryo will never let that happen
When you tell him Tigris’ words, he simply scoffs and tells you that pretty girls like you don’t belong in academics. You don’t belong in that terrible, toxic work force
No, no, you deserve to stay home and to serve him. An easy job, he convinces you, and a soft life
“It’s what you deserve,” He tells you, so you give up on the idea of returning
Instead, you stay at home and wait for Coryo day and night. During the days, you’ll cook, clean and during the nights you’ll be there for him
In the privacy of your now shared bedroom is where he fucks you, the mattress squeaking from how hard he pounds into your tight cunt
Coryo loves it when you whine and beg, crying out how he’s too big for you
He loves to hear you praise him and for you to stroke his ego. With a hand wrapped around your throat, he’ll fuck you until you’re screaming his name into the mattress and until you realize that you belong to him
The love bites and marks he leaves on your thighs are a constant reminder. He tells you that you should be lucky, grateful that you don’t have to use your head anymore
Grateful to have someone like him to take care of you, and you are. Coryo gives you a life that people can only dream about
Once he becomes President of Panem, you’re spoiled with riches that you didn’t even know existed. Diamonds, silks, luxurious foods
And the best part is, all you have to do is smile and wave. After all, you are his best asset
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blondwhxrewrites · 4 months
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Mattheo riddle with a stupid, bimbo Hufflepuff. Like she doesn’t even realise how dangerous he truly is, as long as he makes her feel good and pays for her nails!
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It started out with a bet—a stupid bet between him and the boys. You were known to be dumb, and while your grades weren't that bad, your ditziness outweighed whatever smarts you acquired, whether it be book- or street-wise. Mattheo, the man that he was, could not back down when Theo had bet him five galleons to get into your bed. It had been easy too, flashing a few kind smiles at you and pretending to care about whatever you rambled about—and soon enough he was in your bed on top of you with his dick pounding into your sweet, tight, cunt. He swears it's the best pussy he's ever had, and when all is said and done, he can't help but stare at the subtle rise and fall of your chest and the way you looked so content as you slept. After that, he's completely obsessed.
Something about you just enraptures him. When you ramble about something, he finds himself actually listening and even getting invested in the conversation. He's at your side at all times, his arm wrapped around your waist or his hand laid on top of your back, to gently guide you through the crowd and make sure you don't trip or run into someone. He doesn't even bother collecting the five galleons he is owed because he's too busy helping you out with your homework or pulling you into a storage closet to kiss you silly. 
And you are too busy being happy to even notice how all your friends slowly start to distance themselves from you. The boys who take advantage of your oblivious nature suddenly start getting cursed, and one even gets sent to St. Mungos by a curse so bad that it almost killed him. All while you're just living your best life with your loving boyfriend 🥰
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gremlingottoosilly · 5 months
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Bimbo!Reader who's convinced Pushover!Konig is just a big teddy bear of a giant
He literally beat up a guy who tried to hit on you, and you were fussing over him, ruining that pretty shirt you helped him choose. Konig has no sense of style or tact, and he is very sensitive to criticism - but this is where your inner critic is shutting up, and you just fuss over him like he is just an overgrown baby.
Konig feels like your fussing over him is a bit embarrassing and generally a humiliating process, but he doesn't care - not as long as he can feel your hands on his face when you're wiping away the blood. You're adorable, fucking precious, and he can't wait to ruin you - just as soon as you'd stop being so dense about his hints...but you won't stop, and he finds himself in a weirdly wholesome relationship. It might be that you're just too dumb to see the signs, but he kinda likes your immunity to red flags - and besides, he is smart for the both of you...and likes being cared for too much. You drag him over to your favorite cafe, and he forces himself to stop thinking about fingering you under the table. You would probably allow him, especially while you're wearing a skirt that barely covers your ass and your cleavage is deeper than the knife wounds he used to inflict on his opponents, but he is far too nervous for this. Doesn't want to appear weird, even as you scoot closer to him and ask what he thinks about the necklace you bought with the money he gave you. He stares at the little space orb settled perfectly on your tits. He gulps. Konig probably needs to stop excusing himself in the middle of your dates to jerk off in a public bathroom, but the other possibility would be fucking you senselessly and making you even dumber than you already are...and it's not really an option. He keeps telling himself that he is not weird, but he allows you to sleep on his chest when you're too tired to go home after a movie night, and then he'd massage your tits for the rest of the evening. He keeps telling himself that he is not weird, but it's easier for him to snatch your panties and use them for masturbation than actually asking you to fuck him. The worst thing is - you trust him. You look at him with your precious shining eyes, and you act like he isn't a fucking war criminal who can snap your neck in a second. You give him too much power, trusting him so blindly - he knows he is going to snap one day. Like a rope slowly untangling from its threads. Like a metal cable that is going to escape your arms and cut through the soft skin of your palms.
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itneverendshere · 4 months
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school spirit and all! - soccer!frat!rafe cameron blurb (+18)
warnings: smart!reader (doesn't take shit) x bimbo!rafe <3; pope being an absolute menace; mentions of sex but no actual p in v okay; this shit is football and y'all can argue with a wall <3 IT PAINS ME TO WRITE SOCCER Y'ALL BETTER APPRECIATE IT !!!
ps: this is just for fun cause someone asked me to post it (it was just a draft😬)
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you’ve never been one for academic sports spirit.
what’s the point? okay, your school has incredible athletes, that’s good, but why the fuck would you kiss and praise the ground they walk on? you’re a fantastic student and no one gives a shit. why do they get all the glory while brainiacs get zilch?
the double standards piss you off. somehow academics always take the backseat to sports. maybe that explained your dislike towards jocks like rafe cameron.
up until sophomore year, you’d only heard about him, saw him occasionally around school. it was understandable why people talked about him so often. he looked like he’d just been ripped off a page of an abercrombie and fitch catalog, and apparently – you’d never attended a game to check – he was the best player on the team, playing forward. but, unlike many, you didn’t form an opinion about him until you met him.
the verdict? total pain in your fucking ass.
ever since you two were paired in a class project together, an annual class at that, he suddenly took an interest in you, like you were some sort of exotic animal he’d never encountered in his life, only because you wouldn’t flirt with him.
outrageous, never done before.
for the first four months, it was just him laying on the cheesy pickup lines and you rolling your eyes so hard you thought they'd pop out of your head. eventually, rafe dialed it down and you were able to be civil, perhaps friends. if you could call it that.
wich is why, as his friend, you’re starting to lose your fucking patience. the season was not going well for his team. at all. there’s little to no chance they’re going to be able to win the championship.
not that you care, but apparently the whole school does. everyone seems to be on the verge of a meltdown.
“i swear to god if they lose to standford next week–“
“pope, will you kindly shut the fuck up? it’s just soccer.”
“just soccer?”
you let out an exasperated sigh, glancing over at pope who looks at you like you’ve just shot someone, “can we study? peacefully?”
"it’s not just soccer! it's about school spirit, camaraderie, y’know?"
you raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. "camaraderie? please. more like a bunch of testosterone-fueled egos chasing after a ball," you retort, disdain evident in your tone.
“you don't know what you're talking about. and i'm being dead serious, cameron’s been on edge lately. never seen him like this."
you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms. "yeah, well, losing does that to people. don't why you're complaining soooo much" you sigh, "i’m the one who has to put up with all the brooding and pouting.”
pope’s quiet. too quiet. you can picture the gears turning in his brain as he blankly stares at you. nothing good ever comes out of that.
“what?” you press, wondering if you have to break the school spirit out of him.
“you should fuck him. after or before, don't care. but you should."
you recoil, nearly tumbling out of your chair at pope's suggestion.
your eyes widen in disbelief, your mind struggling to process what he just said. for a moment, the room spins around you, and you feel like you’ve been thrust into some surreal alternate universe.
“what?! pope?" you finally manage to sputter, acting like you're about to go into cardiac arrest, "the fuck's wrong with you?"
“don’t look at me like that,” he merely shrugs, “that man is depressed. he needs to get laid if he’s going to win something.“
you hardly think a guy like rafe is not getting laid every other day, but that’s irrelevant. your jaw drops, stunned by his audacity. "are you kidding me? you don’t even like him!”
“but i like winning!” he whines, all but pushing his books aside to place in his elbows on the table, “and he’s so obsessed with you it hurts watching. he’s like one of those little crusty white dogs always running after you.”
you shake your head in disbelief, "he does it to be funny, okay? he’s not actually interested.. t's just a joke”
your best friend only laughs, a raucous, almost maniacal sound that echoes through the room. he clutches his stomach, "just joking?" pope gasps out, his laughter still bubbling to the surface. "oh man. you're hilarious, honestly, wow."
you stare at him, lips set in a straight line, feeling like you missed the entire joke. "what's so funny?"
pope wipes away a fake tear, trying to compose himself. "he almost ripped a new one to jj after he pulled that stunt last semester.”
your eyebrows knit together in skepticism. “and? i still don’t follow.”
rafe and jj couldn’t stand each other. both are incredible athletes and everyone always gushes about how great they are together on the field. outside, however? not so much. they don't mix. ever.
“and?! why do you think jj randomly talked about you in the locker room?”
“because he’s a horny creep and got a kink for fist fights with undressed men?”
you love jj. really, you do. but sometimes he’d win a lot more if he just kept his mouth shut or thought before speaking. you've lost count of how many times that boy has been suspended.
pope leans in, his tone low and conspiratorial, “cameron practically threatened to rearrange jj's face if he ever mentioned you again.”
you narrow your eyes, “nop. you’re making that up.”
pope shakes his head, a grin playing on his lips. "nah, i'm dead serious.”
your mind races, trying to piece it all together. while your brain always clicks instantly in class, feelings...emotions are a little more complicated to grasp sometimes.
"wait, so you're saying he actually cares about me?"
he nods, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "yep.”
“seriously?”
pope chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "head over heels. you’re our school’s only hope.”
your brain's on overdrive trying to process pope's bombshell revelation. rafe cameron, the big-shot jock, actually giving a fuck about you? it's like some twisted plot line from a teen drama. you didn’t see this one coming. but then again, you hardly pay attention to anything outside academics.
“so what? ’m supposed to fuck the mediocrity out of him?”
he grins, clapping you on the shoulder, “there’s that school spirit!”
you slap his hand away, “oh fuck off. ‘m being serious.”
he’s still grinning like he just cracked the code to life. "come on, hear me out. it's like a strategic move, y’ know? boost his morale, boost the team's performance. win-win."
you roll your eyes, not buying into his scheme. "yeah, because my sex habilities are definitely the key to winning soccer games."
he shrugs, undeterred. "it's not like you'd be doing it for him. it's all about the greater good."
you scoff, rearranging your notes for the millionth time, "this isn't some feel-good sports movie."
it’s not like you never thought about rafe. sure, he's a yapping idiot around you most of the time, but every time you need help or an extra hand, he’s always the first one to offer. that has to count for something, right?
“the ball’s in your court.”
yeah it is.
truth to be told, you’ve been sick and tired of rafe acting like a loser over soccer. what was the point in whining about it if he wasn’t going to try and do better? god, you'd never seen him like this before and it's been irking you to beyond. even more now that pope mentioned it again.
at this point, you just want to march up to him, shake him and make it come to his senses. you can’t even remember that last time he tried to hit on you. that’s how bad it is! the memory is buried under the weight of his brooding.
so maybe….maybe pope's onto something, y'know? maybe there's more to it than just you and rafe. and yeah, okay, you're not exactly thrilled about the idea of hopping into bed with him, but only because you’d hate the attention that comes along with his name.
but...a part of you is weirdly intrigued. not because you're dying to be his next conquest, but because you're just done with watching him drown in his own misery. maybe this could be the wake-up call he needs. a swift kick in the ass to snap him out of his funk.
you wouldn’t be doing out of selfish reasons! school spirit and all. you’d be doing everyone a favor. and you wouldn't need to blame it on yourself if things went downhill.
you had pope for that.
which is why you’re standing in front of rafe's room in his frat.
a jock and a frat boy? charming. you’ve certainly hit the jackass lottery. but you’ve been here before. he always saved the day when the library was packed or when your roommate was too busy fucking her boyfriend in your dorm room. this was weirdly your safe place to work.
taking a deep breath, you rap your knuckles against the door, trying to ignore the butterflies doing somersaults in your stomach. it's not about you! get a grip.
the door swings open, and there's the fucker, all brooding and rugged, like he just walked off the set of a sports movie. you roll your eyes at the cliché, but there's something weird about the way he looks at you. or maybe the tight wife-beater is doing a number on you.
you still notice the bags underneath his swollen eyes.
there's a flicker of surprise in him, like he wasn't expecting to see you, out of everyone in this school, standing there and you can't blame him; after all, you're not exactly a regular visitor to the frat house, only when your academic needs force you to.
“hey?”
“you look like shit, cameron.”
rafe's eyebrows raise in surprise at your blunt remark, “uh, what?”
you roll your eyes resisting the urge to scoff. "can i come in or are you going to stand there looking like an idiot all day?”
rafe chuckles, stepping aside to let you into his room, “come on in.”
you step inside, taking in the cluttered room with a mixture of amusement and mild disgust. it was never this bad before, you know rafe’s a clean freak and this? this is not him. but it is exactly how you imagined a frat boy's room would look like—dirty.
there’s laundry strewn across the floor, empty beer cans littering the desk, and a distinct musky smell lingering in the air. you shake your head in disbelief, shooting rafe a disapproving look.
"what are you? a divorced forty-five-year-old man?”
rafe laughs at your comment, though there's a hint of embarrassment in his expression as he scratches the back of his neck. "yeah, i know. sorry about that."
he’s doing worse than what you realized and it tugs a little at your heartstrings.
you raise an eyebrow, unconvinced by his apology. "sorry doesn't cut it, cameron. you should be ashamed of yourself.”
"okay, fair point. i'll clean up, promise."
“not just your stupid room. i mean your whole attitude. you've been moping around like a loser!”
rafe's expression shifts, defensiveness crossing his features. "hey, ‘m not—"
"don't even try to deny it," you interrupt, not backing down. "everyone’s noticed. you’re pissing me off.”
you don’t know why you’re suddenly so tempted to give him the scolding of a lifetime, but there’s just something about seeing someone with so much potential and drive wasting it all away without a fight. it’s not like him.
and by the kicked-puppy look on his face, you can tell he's not used to being called out so openly. but you're dead set on breaking through to him, no matter how awkward it gets.
“see! you’re just staring at me like—like, a fucking idiot!”, you fire off, frustration lacing your tone. the irony of the situation isn't lost on you. “will you speak for gods sake? for more than five seconds? i spent months trying to get you to shut up and now you do?”
rafe's stunned expression makes you second guess your approach for a moment, but you push the feeling aside, knowing you can't afford to let sympathy cloud your purpose here.
“why are you mad at me?”
you can't believe he's still clueless after all this time.
"why am i mad at you?" you repeat incredulously, feeling the irritation rising your my chest. "seriously, rafe? have you even looked in the mirror lately?"
he blinks at you, his confusion evident, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes.
"you've been moping around like the world's about to end.”
rafe's brows furrow even further, and for a moment, you wonder if he's playing dumb or if he genuinely has no idea what you’re talking about. "i don't—uh, i don't understand," he finally stammers out, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
that’s it.
you’re gonna pull the feelings card and hope it doesn’t backfire.
“do you like me?” you blurt out, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.
rafe snorts as he lifts his finger to scratch his face, “course i do. pretty obvious.”
for a second you get a glimpse of the real rafe and it soothes you inside.
“and you want to fuck me?”
you’ve never seen him look so gobsmacked in his life, you’d laugh in his face if it wasn’t such a serious matter.
“what?” he stammers, his cheeks flushing slightly. you can’t believe the rafe cameron is blushing. over you.
you let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. "do you want to fuck me? do i need to spell it out for you?”
he opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out, and you can't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at finally catching him off guard, “’m sorry? is this—are you…is this for punk’d?”
"punk'd? seriously, rafe?" you snap, incredulous that he would think this is some sort of prank, “it’s 2024.”
rafe's cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red, and he stammers again "no, i mean— i just...didn't expect you to— uhh”
“yes or no.”
rafe blinks at you before breathing out, “yes.”
“okay. so win your next match and you will.”
he looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, exhaling through his nose, trying to keep his agitation to a minimum. “what?”
“i’m sick and tired of this version of you. i need you to win, and if this” you gesture to the both of you with your hand, “is your motivation, then we’re doing it.”
"y’serious?" he takes a step closer, his demeanor suddenly more serious, “me and you?”
you nod firmly, crossing your arms over your chest as you tilt your head up to look at his features, “dead serious. and it’s not just you and me. it’s for the team, and for the school spirit or whatever nonsense pope keeps going on about."
rafe lets out a small chuckle, a hint of his usual cocky confident demeanor returning. "is that so? can't say no to that kind of motivation."
“i figured.”
he reaches out a hand, his fingers lightly grazing the strands of your hair, eyes fixed on your lips. "are there any rules?”
you swallow hard, feeling your heart race at his touch. “no, just win.”
rafe's lips curl into a playful smirk— the money-making smirk that makes you want to punch him and kiss him, not necessarily in that order — as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear.
"never would've guessed you'd be the one to offer yourself as my motivation, though," he murmurs, his voice sending a shiver down your spine, "i'm surprised."
you try to maintain your composure, but his proximity is making it increasingly difficult to think straight. "just doing what needs to be done," you manage to stammer out, trying to sound perfectly unaffected by his words.
rafe chuckles softly, his hand still lingering in your hair as he leans back slightly to look at you. "my pretty prize, huh?" he says, his tone teasing as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face.
you feel a flush spread across your features at his boldness. you blame him entirely for this side of you. without thinking, you reach up to brush your fingers against his cheek, tips pressings against his skin lightly.
“just win the fucking match, cameron."
rafe's nasty smirk widens into a heart-stopping, soul-gripping grin as he leans in closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours.
"consider it done."
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mariasont · 5 months
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The Receptionist - S.R
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a/n: i need this man on an astronomical level actually
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: spencer reid x receptionist!bimbo!reader
summary: spencer meets the new receptionist for chief cruz
warnings: fluff
wc: 0.8k
The click-clack of your polished nails on the keys mingled with the sharp pops of bubblegum as you focused on lining up Chief Cruz's appointments in the system. Taking a pause, you pulled out your notebook encased in pink frills from your drawer, and delicately turned its pages to reveal the week's agenda.
With the appointment freshly noted, you let your pen waltz around the margins, leaving behind a trail of doodles. With a subtle shift, you crossed your legs, the shiny pink heels tapping together, their color complementing the delicate fabric of your skirt.
You traced another heart around the date, and just then, a soft voice hesitantly broke the silence, "Excuse me?"
You looked up to find a pair of curious hazel eyes framed by brown curls that almost seemed to be begging to be touched, and his lips, which held a shy smile made your heart do a summersault. I mean, come on, what are these FBI guys made lab-grown or something?
He was draped in a form-fitting vets over a neatly pressed shirt, his sleeves were rolled up just so, in a way that paused your movements freeze and coaxed a heat to spread across your cheeks. Well, hello there.
He seemed briefly caught off-guard, his eyes flickering over your pink-themed workspace, a distinct departure from the former receptionist's subdued setup. He was almost overwhelmed by the sheer amount of things that now occupied the space.
With an enthusiastic bounce, you popped up from your seat, beaming brightly.
"Oh, hi there! How can I help you?" Gently straightening your skirt, you offered a hand, your name rolling off your tongue, "Are you here for Chief Cruz?"
The man's touch was soft against your palm, his attention caught by the soft clinking of your delicate bracelets, while your nails, painted a meticulous shade of pink that matched the color of your shirt, settled against the back of his hand.
"Spencer Reid," he introduced. "I have an appointment with Chief Cruz regarding a specialized training session for new recruits."
His gaze held yours a tad too long, cataloging the details of your appearance--the brightness of your eyes, the soft curve of your lips, the radiant glow of your skin.
A look of pleasant surprise crossed your face.
"You're the famous Dr. Reid! I've heard a lot about you," you remarked, a giggle accompanying your words as you eased back into your seat, giving a quick, knowing glance at your calendar. "Ah, here you are. I'll let Chief Cruz know you're here. He's currently in a meeting, but it shouldn't be too much longer."
As you pretended to focus on the screen, your mind raced. Dr. Reid--the genius with multiple PhDs, and now, the man who stood before you, unexpectedly  drop-dead handsome.
It was a challenge to maintain professionalism, especially when every fiber of your being yearned to do nothing but drink in his appearance. I mean, you were only human.
"Just Spencer is fine," he offered with an easy smile. "Where's Mrs. Henderson?"
You were beautiful to say the least, not at all what he was expecting to see when he walked in this morning, quite the difference from the former receptionist, whose age had been marked by the hard candies she offered.
"Oh, she retired last month!" you said with a bright smile. "So now, Chief Cruz is stuck with me!" Leaning in, chin cradled by your hands, you gaze at him incredulously. "Three PhDs, huh? That's, like, beyond Einstein-level smarts, isn't it?"
Spencer's cheeks tinged with a hint of color as he reached up to scratch the back of his neck.
"Well, not quite," he admitted with a modest shrug. He then glanced around the office before his eyes settled back on you. "How are you finding the job here so far?"
"Impressive, yet so modest," you commented. Standing up, you clicked print on the computer. "And it's great, I really love it here. I mean, it's not as thrilling as chasing down bad guys, I'm sure, but I think I'll stick to what I'm good at."
As you made your way to the printer, Spencer interjected. "No, I got it."
He returned with the papers, handing them to you with a gentle smile. 
"Thanks," you said, taking the papers. "So, you do that profiling thing right?" You tapped a finger against your lips, pretending to ponder. "Let's see... I'm guessing you're a Libra, aren't you? Probably born in early October, I'd say."
"What gave it away?"
You flashed a wink, the pop of your bubblegum punctuating the air. "I may have taken a sneak peek at your file."
With a light-hearted laugh, Spencer revealed a smile so grand it seemed to light up the entire space and you couldn't help but smile in response. You liked his smile, a lot. 
Spencer's response was cut short by the ring of the phone. You quickly answered as the great receptionist you are.
"Okie dokie, sir, I'll send him right back!" You listened for a second, then replied with a giggle. "No, thank you, sir!" You turned to Spencer, your smile wide, "He's ready for you!"
"Thanks," Spencer said with a nod, "It was great to meet you." He took a few steps towards Chief Cruz's office before pausing and turning back. "You know, maybe I should give you my number. For work purposes, in case you have questions or need help with anything."
You nodded eagerly, your smile reaching from ear to ear. "Absolutely, for work purposes."
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jj-one · 6 months
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HOW JUNGKOOK WOULD TREAT HIS BIMBO GF 🍥
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pairing: established relationship, bf!Jungkook x bimbo!fem!reader genre/tags: smut, dumbification, degradation, praise kink, breeding kink, piv, unprotected sex, an*l, oral (m receiving), t*tty f*cking, drooling, use of the word daddy (only once)
**old repost from my deleted blog (05/24/23)
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- Having a drop dead gorgeous girlfriend was a given for Jungkook, he loved the fact that y’all were both smoking hot and turn heads everywhere you go
- The stark contrast between your appearances drove him insane
- His aesthetic was more dark and mystique, is also heavily tattooed while you always wore pink and pastels, having bare skin
- Is so enamored with the idea of you being the total opposite of him, he always feels like he’s corrupting your sweet innocence
- Kinda treats you like you’re his eye candy anywhere he goes, has you wrapped up on his arm like it’s a leash
- He’s been debating getting an actual leash for you since you constantly trip and fall whenever you’re out with him
- You were just so ditzy and clumsy… it was your character flaw yet Jungkook saw it as an endearing quality
- Also loved that you were an airhead, clingy, and always wanting his attention ;( makes the joy of him coming home to you all the more thrilling <33
- Always buying you pink and girly thingsss
- Whenever he sees something hello kitty or barbie related he instantly thinks of you and buys it
- CONSTANTLY wants to spoil you, omg this man would spend every dime he could on you just to make you happy
- He looooves taking you out shopping because that’s your favorite activity !!
- He splurged on you the other day, buying you any color of that Dior lip oil that you were obsessed with, it was worth it since he’d be the one taking it off your lips afterwards
- Jungkook enjoys watching you try on skimpy outfits for him, the shorter the skirt the better— don’t get him started on the way your hardened nipples peek out the fabric of your shirts…
- Likes to play dress up with you like you’re his personal doll
- He’ll put you in a pink lace slip dress one night and the next he’ll have you wear white see-through lingerie for him; that is only when you two are in private of course
- Frequently teaches you new things so you keep up to date with current news and other events, he knows you aren’t the brightest but you have a heart of gold and do your best to comprehend everything he tells you !
- When watching movies you often pause to ask questions about the film because you don’t get it
- Jungkook made you watch ‘Inception’ with him one time and it absolutely rotted your brain
- He enjoys explaining the movie to you in a babying way, dumbing it down for you to understand it as your mind is blown away by all the knowledge he drops on you
- Laughs at your inability to comprehend the plot and pats your head while teasing you
- “Awww, you poor little thing…can’t even understand the simple concept of a movie.”
- It really really really turns him on when you wear high heels, the higher the heels the higher the tent in his pants grew
- You wore the sexiest 6-inch stripper heels for him and he fucked you out completely while you had them on, he thinks he might have a heel fetish or something
- Absolutely adores your bright & bubbly personality !! Will praise you any time he hears you say something smart
- “Did you know that Sloths can hold their breath longer than Dolphins???” You would ask him randomly.
- “No I didn’t, but thanks for the fun fact babe. You sound so cute when you talk about things you’ve discovered.”
- “It was on the back of my Snapple cap, how cool is that?! See look!!”
- He will never not be impressed by your lack of awareness, you lived in your own little bubble and he wanted to shield you from all harm and scary things
- Is sooo completely obsessed with your body
- Your bouncy tits, your curvaceous hips, and your cute plump butt was the perfect sight to send the blood rushing to his cock
- Loves. To. Fuck. You. So. Dumb.
- Uses your hole like it’s a fleshlight and loves cumming inside you repeatedly
- Dumping all his cum into your little bimbo cunt was the only thing he needed in his life
- Often catches you drooling at him, when you do this he scoops it up with his finger and puts it back in your mouth
- His favorite part of sex with you is seeing your fucked out face
- The stare you give him while you deepthroat his cock was enough to make him combust
- “Look so pretty with my cock stuffed in your mouth, such a pretty little slut for me..”
- The way he would degrade you but praise you in the same breath confused you in many ways yet you enjoyed every minute of it
- Your makeup would be all smeared, mascara would be runny, the Dior lip gloss he bought you fully transferred to his cock now
- Can never choose between if he likes doggystyle or cowgirl more since both positions he gets to look at your assets with a nice view
- Lots of titty fucking, loves having your big round tits around his cock, making a mess all over your chest once you milk him clean
- He owns all your holes, he likes to use your tight little ass from time to time
- After lubing it up nice and gently, he would go to town on your ass just pounding into your fuck hole viciously
- “What a fucking whore you are, gonna keep fucking your tiny hole until I pump every last bit of my seed in you.”
- Turns him on so fucking much when you start babbling and unable to speak proper sentences
- You’d whimper and hiccup with frustration from the way his cock made you feel
- His love language will always be making you feel so low. So small compared to him that you don’t even feel worthy of his presence at times
- “Can’t stop drooling all over yourself? Already too dumb and fucked out to continue, hmm?? Oh never mind, you’re already dumb…just shut up and take daddy’s cock like the good little slut you are, you were made for taking cock anyway.”
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mommypieck · 1 year
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⌗︙・jjk characters with a bimbo gf ⸜⸜・
✿ gojo, geto, nanami
gojo
he's a himbo himself so you're like dumb and dummer. he loves to pay for your nails. there's nothing more he loves more when you do your nails in pretty pink color... and the scars they leave on his back. he's there for you everytime you want to show him a new outfit. he's going to sit all man spread on his chair while you show him your new dress that is a little bit too short. and he doesn't care, he's gonna stare at your ass unashamedly. always carries all of your bags when you go shopping, he wants to show that he guys his sweet little thing a lot of outfits and that he has money for it. always takes pictures of you whenever you go.
"lean down a bit more." he says, getting a perfect view of your tits.
he is so down when you suggest getting matching clothes. his name on your chest in sparkly pink writing? he's all for it. i feel like he would love when you wear glitter for some reason.
geto
he's going all sugar daddy mode. he adores when you do your makeup, hair and nails all good. he usually wears black so your cute little pink outfits match with him amazingly. he's always there to explain things to your dumb little brain. he won't ever admit it but he loves being the smart one in the relationship. he always sit you on his lap whenever he has meeting with his worshipers. they all can see up your tiny little skirt but they know that geto would murder them if they got even 5 meters close to you. as protective as he is, he never judges you for your outfit choices. if your tits are on display? he's gonna fondle them and tell you they sit nice. if your panties are on display? he's gonna smack your butt and tell you to flaunt it some more.
nanami
nobody understands how you two got together but it somehow happened. actually seeing you two walk hand in hand is a bit comical. he thinks you look absolutely amazing all the time and he loves giving you money for more things. he would even sit with you while you're in a nail salon to watch how are your 500$ nails made.
you love bringing him food to his office and he totally hates it. he's used to finding nails and glitter everywhere at this point but explaining to his boss why he has pink lip gloss on his face is sometimes too much for him.
he always nips about you not dressing enough.
"a hoe never gets cold"
"yeah but you're not a hoe, i can see you shivering."
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yawnderu · 9 months
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honestly i would die for bimbo!reader to have some sort of Legally Blonde level of intelligence but for the stupidest, most useless shit. no, she can't remember which knob turns on which burner for the stove, but she can tell you the effects of different chemical compounds found in all her favorite skincare products and now they react to an individuals derma-layer. simon once caught her watching a screensaver on TV for 30 min because she thought it was "a reeeeally slow nature documentary /:", but she's fluent in Korean because she got super into Korean make up brands from her favorite influencers and wanted to be able to read the product ingredients/reviews/tutorials, it just never gets brought up otherwise and when someone asks in disbelief she's all "what, like it's hard?"
and simon is just sooooo so so proud of his smart pretty girl. who cares that she thought soap's parents legally named him after a dishwashing product. can mactavish tell him how to tell dupes from authentic handbags based on the inner stitching that can only be done on machines specially made by Italian companies? no? then shut the fuck up. tell us more about glitter lipgloss, beautiful.
Absolutely!! She may be dim-witted when it comes to certain things, but she's not exactly dumb at all. This girl could recite the laws of astrophysics and solve complex mathematical problems while being piss drunk.
Simon is still amazed by how complex his sweet girl is— he knows she isn't stupid, yet it never fails to surprise him how you start speaking to MacTavish in fluent Scottish Gaelic, only offering the explanation that you learnt it because a character on your favorite movie spoke it once, looking at him like he grew a second head when he sheepishly told you most scottish people don't speak Gaelic anymore.
Sure, you may have thought movies were real and used to avoid watching them because you thought the actors were actually getting killed and you didn't want to support that, yet a window of your house is full of math equations that gave him a headache just by looking at them.
I'd say Simon sees bimbo!reader as a box full of surprises, telling him about something new every single time you have a conversation. How did you get into studying astrophysics? You got the highest score in the university admission exam and saw a poster that was shiny and had cute stars and a pretty nebula!! How could you resist when everything about it called for you?
Mhm, the smell of gunpowder and blood that sticks to him no matter what is such an odd perfume, yet it surely has an interesting molecular makeup! Of course it does, pretty girl.
They complement each other so well because Simon has the street smarts she's lacking, and she has the book smarts Simon doesn't. She can be extremely ditzy, but who cares when she can tell him exactly which inks are recommended for his skin and which chemicals can rough up his face? He had to buy a brand-new eye black stick simply because you could tell the materials used on it by applying it on your hand with a frown.
I'd like to imagine her as someone with lots of odd interests, knowledge and hyperfixations in the dumbest things besides the universe. He has to keep up with you buying materials for making bracelets and keeping a room full of dinosaur plushies.
Bimbo!Reader Masterlist
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jamespotterismydaddy · 9 months
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Tutor Me
michael gavey x bimbo!reader
A/N: this was a request so i hope you enjoy! thank you to bel for putting michael creaming in his pants in my head.
TW: SMUT!! michael is mean and then he cums in his pants, this is the most filthy thing i've written perhaps
word count: 2,099 words
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You knock three times on Michael Gavey’s door and flinch when he opens it just as you lay down the third knock.
Was he waiting at the door for you?
He’s almost annoyed by your presence before he takes in what you’re wearing, a tiny, lacy, pink, babydoll crop-top with a slit from your belly button to just below your breasts and the tiniest little white skirt that falls just below your bum. Oh, and don’t get him started on the godforsaken thigh-highs, the things are practically lethal.
“Um, Earth to Michael?” You wave a hand in front of his face to try and snap him back into reality. The poor man is starstruck at just the sight of you.
“S-Sorry yes… come in.” He stutters and steps back so you can walk in. 
You brush it off and strut into his room, sitting down on his bed. Oh god how he loves the sight of you on his bed with your skirt riding up ever so slightly and your plush thighs pressed together. You hold your textbook in your lap as he stares at you once again, clenching his hands into fists in an attempt to get his cock to stop rising.
“Are we going to get started?” You ask, trying to snap him out of it once again.
“Started with what?” He blurts out.
“Trig?”
“Oh yes, of course - sorry.” He mumbles and wipes his hands on his palms before apprehensively sitting next to you.
You open up your book and show him the problems you were struggling with.
“These are the questions you’re struggling to comprehend?” He asks condescendingly. “There aren’t many thoughts in that pretty little head of yours, are there?” He seems to get back to his old self with ease.
“Don’t be cruel.” You say with a huff. “Not everyone is as smart as you.”
“Clearly.”
“You won’t speak to me like this if you’re going to tutor me.” You say firmly.
“You can’t make demands when i’m doing you a favour.” He scoffs.
“You’re actually doing Ms. Jameson a favour and i’m sure she would be very disappointed if you couldn’t follow through.”
Michael grumbles something about how he wouldn’t be the one who wasn’t following through but sighs anyhow and begins to look at your attempts that you’ve written under each question. You cross your arms a bit smugly.
“Nothing else to say?” You taunt him.
“I’m trying to be nice…” He trails off when he glances up at you, noticing how your arms are crossed - noticing the way the action pushes up your tits.
You might be a little ditzy but you’re not that ditzy. “Are you really staring at my tits right now?”
“What? No - are you that full of yourself?” He sputters out, his cheeks turning red.
“You don’t spend much time around women, do you?” You giggle.
“Of course I do!” He protests and then grumbles out, “And i’m the rude one?”
“Michael, have you ever kissed a girl?” You ask a little gently.
“I’ve kissed loads!” He claims but his cheeks get redder.
“Oh well then. I was going to offer to teach you but there’s clearly no need.”
He’s silent for a moment, a long moment.
“Out.” He says finally.
“What?”
“Stop fucking with me like that and get out of my room.” He is clearly embarrassed, thinking you’re playing some cruel prank on him.
“I’m not messing with you.” You say but he’s already getting your things together.
“Like hell you’re not.” He shoves your things into your hands and stands to get the door. You put your stuff back down.
“I’m not leaving,”
“Yes you are. I won’t have you making a fool out of me and then giggling about it with your little friends.” He grabs your wrist to pull you to your feet.
“I don’t think you’re a fool. I like you.” You say earnestly.
“Bullshit.” He says but he isn’t dragging you to the door yet.
“I do, Michael. I think you’re cute.” He searches your eyes for dishonesty but the blush on your cheeks makes him inclined to believe you.
“Y-You do?” His eyes soften.
“I do.”
“And you’re not taking the mickey out of me?” He asks one more time, just to be sure.
You shake your head. “I’m not.”
“You really want to kiss me?’
“Only if you tell me the truth about how many girls you’ve kissed… and if you close that door.” You say sweetly.
Michael practically slams the door with haste and proceeds to lock it. “I haven’t kissed any girls.” He admits.
That was easy.
“Can we kiss now?” He asks eagerly and you giggle.
“Sit down on the bed.”
He does so right away, wiping his palms on the covers. You walk over to him slowly, so you can tease him even more. He gulps as you perch yourself right on his lap, straddling both his legs and oh boy do you feel how hard he is immediately. He’s bigger than you expected and you can tell even through his trousers.
“Are you ready?” You ask as you rub your hands up and down his chest and he nods swiftly in response. “Okay…” You whisper out before leaning in slowly to brush your lips gently against his. It’s definitely more than a peck but doesn’t leave him anywhere near satisfied. “How was that?”
“Good but I think we should do it again to be sure.” He says, clearly flustered.
“I think so too, but this time, you’ll open your mouth a bit.”
“O-Okay.” He breathes out and you press your lips against his once again, kissing him with more pressure this time. He opens his mouth and you slip your tongue past his lips to touch his tongue for a moment before pulling it back. He whimpers into your mouth and the two of you begin to properly makeout at this point as Michael grows his confidence. He is an… aggressive kisser so to say but it’s clearly because of how excited he is. You’ve never seen someone act so excited to just kiss you before. You lift his hands as you kiss him and place them on your waist. He immediately begins to squeeze at the soft flesh and he groans at the feeling. He then begins to subconsciously rock you back and forth over his crotch so he can gain some friction. The poor boy is so close to creaming in his pants that he actually whines when you pull away. His lips try to chase yours as you do but you push at his chest to stop him.
“Did I do something wrong?” He asks nervously as his hands continue to knead at your skin, never straying from your waist.
“No.” You say, finding his concern sweet. 
“Then why’d you stop?” He asks and you find it cute at how such an egotistic man is reduced to using puppy-dog eyes.
“Well, you’re always staring at my tits. I thought you’d like to see them for real.” His eyes light up.
“That would um… be nice.” He tries to say casually and you giggle at his response.
You take off your babydoll top and you’ve never felt more flattered. He looks at you like a kid on christmas, as if your tits came gift-wrapped with a bow.
“Oh god.” He groans out, looking mesmerised. 
“You can touch them if you want.” You say and you could imagine that his face would be the same as a man who has just won the lottery.
He is almost apprehensive at first as if you’ll slap him and storm off the moment he touches them but he lifts his hands anyhow and places them gently on your chest.
“They’re so soft… and plush.” You can feel his hips moving from under you and when he gives your tits a good squeeze, he also moans, bucking his hips up hard.
Then you realize.
He just came in his pants.
When you glance down, he realizes that you know what just happened.
“Oh god, i’m so fucking sorry. Fuck.” He lifts you off his lap with surprising ease so he can cover his crotch with his hands. He stands up, with his back facing you so he doesn’t have to look at what he expects to be, a disappointed look on your face.
“Michael-”
“I’m sorry.”
“Just look at me-”
“That’s so bloody humiliating.”
He is clearly in some sort of a state so you roll your eyes, but then an idea pops into your head. You pull your lacy, wet panties off and throw them right over his shoulder. They land right on the desk in front of him. Michael freezes. He knows right away what they are and reaches to pick them up, getting rock hard again when he feels how wet they are. Without a second thought, he brings them up to his nose and inhales. He’ll for sure have those wrapped around his cock when you’re not around. 
You’re laying back on his bed when he turns back around, your thigh-highs still on and your skirt hiked up around your waist. His eyes then fall to your glistening cunt.
“I still need to be fucked, Michael.”
He’s on you in a second, kissing you ravenously as he unbuckles his belt. When his cock is finally out, he pauses.
“I don’t have any condoms.” He’s embarrassed but he’s never had a need for them before.
“I’m on the pill. Do what feels good.” You say, wanting him as much as he wants you.
He does exactly as you advise and does as he pleases, slamming himself in, all the way to the hilt and relishing the feeling of you squeezing around him.
“Jesus - fuck.” You curse.
“What’s wrong?” He asks with concern as you hold his hips to keep him still.
“Usually when a man - how do I put this lightly… has a massive horse cock, they enter a bit slower.” 
“I’ll pull out then.” He says, trying to find a solution as he gets halfway out, dragging a whimper out of you.
“No, no!” You whine, your eyes rolling back in your head from this pleasure of having him inside you.
“No?” He grins a little.
“I just needed to adjust.”
“To my huge dick?”
Great, another thing for him to be cocky about.
“Fuck you.” You murmur.
“I think i’ll be doing the fucking.” He says playfully as he gives an experimental thrust back into you. When he sees your pleased expression, he begins to fuck you harder, loving the way his cock looks slipping in and out of your dripping cunt.
“Mmm, Michael.” You moan when he hits your sweet-spot so he continues to bully the head of his cock against it.
“Getting all dumb again? Think if I asked you a trig question, you’d be able to answer?” He teases as he bruises your cervix.
You squeeze around him in retaliation. “Would you?”
His hips stutter a bit and he gets more sloppy. You remember now that he’s a virgin and you’re impressed that he didn’t just cum right away.
“F-Fuck.” 
He begins to truly realize what he’s actually doing. The hottest girl in school is almost fully naked on his bed with his cock balls deep inside of her. He’s going to take full advantage of the situation.
“You’re so pretty.” He says and looks down at your breasts. “Your tits are so pretty too.” He leans down to kiss them, sucking on your nipple. “I can’t believe you’re letting me do this. Please let me do it again.”
He isn’t even finished and he’s already begging for more. His pace begins to slow as he keeps sucking on your tits and you know he’s close so you squeeze around him. This time, the action makes him orgasm and thick, hot spurts of cum spill inside you. He lays down on you, happily using your chest as a pillow.
“This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He says in a very tired voice. “Did you like it?” He asks.
“Very much.” You say truthfully as you run your fingers through his hair.
He then lifts his head to look at you. “Did you um… cum?”
“Well… no.” His face drops and he feels like he’s failed. He’s also nervous that you won’t like him anymore. “It’s okay though. I never taught you how.”
He thinks on that for a moment and then the sad look leaves his face.
“Let me eat your pussy then.”
taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi
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ang3lik · 2 years
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𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬
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#pairing:: ethan landry x fem!bimbo!reader
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no one expects ethan to be with you. since ethan is all nerdy, smart and shit they don’t expect you coming.
ethan likes the way you are. exactly the way you are. you’re just enough for him.
he likes that you’re so different to him. that you need him. you make him feel loved and appreciated.
definitely calls you a spoiled little brat all the time.
has to keep an extra close eye on you especially around times as it gets closer to when ghostface shows up.
actually likes seeing splashes of pink around his room, your heels thrown by his door or next to his bed, (which he definitely trips over sometimes), has a pink fluffy pen in his pencil case that he accidentally picked and put in his own because you were taking too long to pack up your stuff leaving class, has a hello kitty plushie on his bed
when you ask him for help with turn work or studying, you just sit in his lap and talk his ear of and he just ends up finishing it for you because your getting too distracted.
is way too soft. you want or need something ethan is straight on it.
chad just looks at him like ‘😑’ but he’s then like ‘you gotta do what you gotta do’
mindy just snickers as he does what you ask him too whilst anika (fellow!mini!bimbo!bestie in this hc) just looks at you both so proud 🥹
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rrenzwrld · 7 months
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nobody else, nothing else
connie x bimbo cheerleader!black reader
finally got a chance to continue this concept! i actually like how it turned out even though it doesn’t show the whole bimbo cheerleader aspect. i just got carried away into the fic but i might think up more hcs…anyways enjoy!
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ever since connie asked you out and your relationship progressed, he felt pressure. he felt some kind of pressure from anyone who’s ever known you or him to do things that he wasn’t used to doing.
“she’s high maintenance.” he knew that and didn’t mind catering to you whenever he could. you were the sweetest person ever and deserved the world.
“she’s way out of your league man. ain’t no way you pulled that” maybe you were but if you didn’t care, neither did he.. at least he tried not to. you were beautiful, smart, funny, sexy, kind, everything someone would only get in a dream.
“she’s too good for you. you don’t know how to handle her” they spoke of you as if you could be handled like a pet or something. like you were this wild animal he had to tame or you’d spiral out of control. most of the time connie didn’t care about what was said but if he was left with his thoughts for too long, it’d be good for no one.
“connie, you been ignoring and avoiding me. why?” he couldn’t tell you that.
“there’s a lot of stuff on my mind.”
“what, so you don’t have time for me anymore? you have time for basketball and everything else.”
“it’s not you.”
“that’s hard to believe.”
“y/n.. can you please? i don’t wanna talk right now.” you were visibly hurt. he could never tell you to go away but something was different today. he didn’t wanna let you see him in a way that you weren’t used to seeing
“oh really?” he could see your body shift at his words and it hurt him to see you like that but he didn’t wanna burden you with his insecurities. “well,” you looked down at your shoes. “let me know whenever you’re ready to talk.” he knew how you operated and even though you insinuated that your lines of communication would be open to him still, that phrase for you only meant that you’d have your phone on dnd for the rest of the day and there was no getting through to you until the end of it.
the day went on and connie found himself standing outside of the door of your last class, waiting for you to walk out of it. his thoughts had been consuming him all day but all he wanted was you in his arms to take all of that away. he couldn’t afford for you to be upset with him right now.
“y/n.” connie grabbed your arm as he saw you nearly walk past without acknowledging him. you looked at the loose grip on your arm.
“constance.”
“stop that.”
“stop what?”
“that. being childish, you know i don’t like when you call me that.”
“and i don’t like when you’re not honest with me.” you crossed your arms stern over your chest, letting him know you weren’t backing down from the topic at hand earlier.
“ay, tesoro…can we please not do this right now?” you shrugged.
“maybe not now but we have to talk about it after practice. promise?” you held out your pinky. of course connie wouldn’t tell anyone his feelings if he didn’t have to but it was you. he wanted to be able to do anything for you so he intertwined his pinky with yours.
“good. call me later?”
“of course, i love you.” he leaned in to quickly place a peck on your cheek before he left to get ready for practice while you waited for your mom to get you because you didn’t have cheer practice that day.
when practice was over, connie went home and make sure all his stuff was done before he decided to call you. the two of you called each other almost every night but this particular call was making him nervous.
“i’m guessing you’re ready to talk?” connie sighed loudly and you giggled at how annoyed he was but you pondered about why sharing his feelings was so difficult with you.
“i guess so.”
“so, what’s been going on? what’s been on your mind?” connie didn’t think he’d have to address these particular concerns with you and was worried as to if you’d judge him or not even though that wasn’t your character.
“just…some insecurities, that’s all.”
“elaborate, please?”
“people say i don’t deserve you and i don’t like how that makes me feel.” you didn’t like how that made you feel either and connie’s softened tone hadn’t made it easier. “makes me feel like a shitty boyfriend, ya know? like what do they think i’m doing wrong? am i doing anything wrong? what’s wrong with me? do you really deserve bette—“
“baby.” you interrupted his rambling. “you’re perfect, okay? you have nothing to prove to me and especially not to whoever is saying those things to you.” you sweet voice calmed connie over the phone but he knew he’d feel much better if he had one of your hugs to pair along with it. “i love you, you love me and that’s all that matters. nobody else, nothing else, alright?” connie stayed quiet for a moment before answering.
“yeah.”
“nobody else, nothing else.” in the back of connie’s mind, he didn’t think he deserved you. he believed he was too flawed for you and you were supposed to have someone as perfect as yourself. but you didn’t care about any of that. you loved connie for connie and no matter how imperfect he thought he was, he was perfect for you.
“now, how was practice?”
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601 notes · View notes
brightbertalt · 8 months
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just please teach me
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michael gavey x bimbo!reader
authors note - i can’t resist this man…..he’s so nerdy and hot. also meant for female!reader
warnings - dumbification, kinda mean michael, a little praise, degradation, perv!michael, the word slut, breeding kink, accidental breeding?
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god michael couldn’t wait for this.
it was your first tutoring session with him. after your failed your first math test of the semester, you decided to get some help from the smartest man you knew, who also happened to sit next to you.
“hey, you’re like super smart right?”
you asked him, peeking over at the 100% on his test. he turned his head, internally surprised you were even talking to him.
“uh, yeah. yeah i am. do you need help?”
you nodded, pouting and practically shoving your test in his face.
“i can’t even believe it! i got a 53% on this test, it was like, super hard!”
you complained, crossing your arms; which just so happened to push up your breasts. they looked so good in that tight tank top you were wearing.
“you’re asking me to tutor you?”
you scoffed out of frustration.
“duh! i don’t wanna fail!”
he was going to be your tutor. it sounded like music to his ears. michael gavey was going to be personally teaching the cutest girl he knew.
and annoying.
you yourself weren’t annoying, but the fact that someone like you, who probably didn’t even know which direction an x axis pointed, could get into oxford university. probably on a huge helping of daddy’s money is what he thought. unlike him, who actually earned his place. nonetheless, he would tutor you.
he could have some fun with that.
he saw this situation in porn all the time. dumb schoolgirl goes to someone like himself to get help, and they end up fucking like rabbits. he didn’t have any experience with women in person, but he figured porn was close enough to the real thing, right?
he wondered how sweet your voice would sound begging for him.
“sooooo, does my place sound good? i have such a cute setup it’s like, unbelievable! and im free around 6 tonight.”
“yeah, of course. i guess ill be over then..!”
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he knocked on your door, trying to stop his hands from shaking. he adjusted his glasses, waiting for you to open the door.
“mikey! you’re here!”
you opened the door and hugged him. he tried not to audibly moan from the sensation of your boobs pushing against him.
“just michael is fine!”
he blurted out, nervous that you were this close to him. would he even be able to survive this night?
“i dont have any extra chairs, so we can just study on my bed! how’s that?”
you asked, walking in your dorm and sitting on your bed.
he wouldn’t be able to survive. you said that so innocently, as if you didn’t understand what two people could do on a bed. as he walked over to your bed, he didn’t expect anything different. it was adorned with pink pillows and a huge fuzzy pink blanket. it was so you.
“the thing I wasn’t really understanding was number seven. i don’t even know where to start!”
he nodded, grabbing his supplies out of his bag. how could she not understand this one? it was the easiest by far. nonetheless, he explained it in the most basic way he could. you nodded, pretending to understand.
“okay, now you try.”
you smiled dumbly, attempting to try it on your own. you stopped shortly thereafter, flipping the pencil in your hand.
“i just don’t get it michael! maybe math just isn’t for me..”
you leaned in closer to him, putting your head on his shoulder. you felt defeated. defeated by some numbers on a page. he sighed in annoyance. he did like this feeling, but he didn’t like your dumb little brain. maybe he could take advantage of that. he only dreamed of that, though. tricking you into pleasing him. giving you a ‘reward’ for finally get 100% on your tests. you’d probably love that too.
“ill probably drop math. its too hard! i dont know how you do it. you’re so smart michael.”
“well you’re not even trying are you? you just have to think, y/n!”
“i am so trying!”
you loosely hugged michael. he could feel himself starting to get hard. why’d you have to be so handsy with him?
“thanks for helping me though! you’re so smart michael.”
he felt himself twitch in his pants. he couldn’t take it anymore. he couldn’t take the teasing anymore.
you felt his lips press against your own soft, glossed lips. he pulled away quickly, already preparing for the worst. you would push him off your bed, throw his bag at him and yell at him to leave. instead, you grabbed his sleeve.
“please don’t leave mikey.”
how could he refuse you?
he moved closer to you, going in for another kiss. you were an aphrodisiac. so irresistible. made for him to fuck.
you shook your head, kissing all over his face.
“it’s totally fine, please just stay here.”
he gently pushed you down onto the bed, kissing and sucking on your neck. fuck, you were so nice. your skin was so soft and plush, and your voice sent him into a spiral.
“is this your first time mikey?”
“y-yeah. i know you probably think that’s pathetic or weird or-“
“mikey. please just fuck me. i don’t care.”
those were the sweetest words he ever heard. he could cum right then and there.
“god, fuck, can i ask you something?”
he asked.
“are you on birth control?”
you shook your head. fuck, for some reason that was even hotter.
“ill pull out, don’t worry.”
you nodded, noticeably absentminded. you were so dumb, and it was so cute to him. he was known around campus for his smarts and talent in math. and now he had, which was quite possibly, the dumbest girl at his university under his thumb. it felt so good.
“i trust you mikey.”
he smirked as he pressed continuous kisses into your neck and chest, experimentally pushing his hands underneath your cute tank top and groping your breasts. you whined underneath him, taking your top and yanking it over your head to expose your chest.
“you’re so cute. just let me take care of you, okay?”
he licked and sucked on your chest, trailing his way down your body until he got to your little cute shorts. god this boy was a freak. you helped him get your shorts off of you, exposing your bare cunt to him. you squeezed your legs together, a feeble attempt in covering yourself.
“why be shy now? you already teased me for half the semester.”
you nodded at his remark, leaning your head back. he teased, kissing up your thighs. michael’s smirk was criminal as he placed a gentle kiss on your pussy. you bucked your hips and moaned on him. he gently prodded your entrance with his long fingers, slowly inserting two of them inside you. he chuckled as he moved his fingers in and out.
“mikey i-“
“you’re what? wet as a bloody fountain? because you are.”
you let out a pornstar-esque moan and feebly grabbed in his direction. you needed him inside you.
“mikey please just fuck me! please!”
you shouted out, rocking your hips into his fingers gently. he grinned and stood up to take off his pants, as well as unzipping his coat.
“i don’t get it.”
you said bluntly, looking up at him.
“what?”
“your shirt. I don’t get it.”
you pointed to his shirt.
‘not all math puns are awful. just sum.’
you shared a moment of brief awkwardness.
“it’s like how the result of an addition-“
“i didn’t ask for more math! just come over here michael!”
he quickly nodded and took off his stupid shirt, leaving it on the floor next to the bed. he climbed over you, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.
“are you sure?”
“please just do it already mikey!”
you whined. he always knew you were bratty. he would love to put you in your place though. he slid himself into you, gasping at the warmth and tightness of your pussy. he slowly slid all the way in, swearing under his breath as he did. you were definitely made for him. so warm, so soft, so perfect. he placed a hand on your lower stomach, feeling himself inside you.
“you’re so warm holy fuck, I can’t believe im inside you right now.”
he blurted out, slowly starting to move. michael was definitely a little above average. so goes the trope of nerdy white guys. the largeness of him made you feel so full, so stuffed. you couldn’t handle it already. tears pricked at your eyes as you slung your legs onto his shoulders. michael wasted no time fucking himself into you, letting out all sorts of lewd noises.
“can’t believe im the one doing this. always thought you’d be with someone like felix, fuck.”
he grabbed at your hips, guiding you up and down on his cock. another loud, indecent moan was let out of you.
“im the one fucking you, no one else gets to have this dumb little cunt.”
he tilted his head up, overwhelmed with pleasure.
“im all yours mikey, please just keep fucking me!”
you cried, grabbing onto his hands on your hips. he grabbed your right hand with his left, pressing it right next to your head. his face was right next to yours as well now.
“nothing in that stupid head, huh? nothin’ but me fucking you right now. i always knew you were so simple.”
you clenched around him, leaving him to chuckle under his breath.
“you like that? me calling you dumb? knew you were a slut.”
michael’s smartass attitude definitely never left him. you shook your head unconvincingly. you did like it, but being a brat was so fun.
“i know you like it. you already feel like you’re gonna cum on me. poor little thing. probably forget everything you learned this semester just from this.”
he said with fake sympathy. it was true, you were close. you could feel his thrusts getting more erratic and needy, so you knew he was too. you just remembered you were supposed to have a math lesson today. oh well. you could always just google the answers.
“I don’t think im gonna be able to pull out, you’re so fucking warm and tight I can’t-“
you immediately came to your senses. you were admittedly dumb, but not dumb enough to let michael cum in you.
“michael please pull out-“
“i- fuck!”
he abruptly came inside you, his jaw slack as he aggressively rammed his hips into yours a few more times. the sensation of his filling you up was too much, and your orgasm shortly followed. he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily.
“im so sorry y/n, you just-“
“ill figure it out mikey, just hold me.”
and he did. he laid on his side as he traced his thumb on your belly. you fell asleep soon thereafter, together.
626 notes · View notes
actuallysaiyan · 9 months
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Heart To Heart(Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Bimbo!Reader)
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warnings: smut, unprotected sex, college AU, Emo!Nanami, Bimbo!Reader, reader is actually a sweetheart and smart, blowjobs, making out, alcohol mentions, Kento is a bit of an asshole in this one, fluff, mentions of trauma word count: 3k! pairings: Emo!College!Kento Nanami x Fem!Bimbo!Reader summary: you and Nanami have classes together in university, and he just thinks you screwed your way into these classes. he makes it known one day what he thinks of you, and you snap. but when you meet up at a party, things get spicy.
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Nanami had himself convinced that you were bad news. Something about the way you were always applying that sticky lipgloss while looking at yourself in your cute Hello Kitty compact mirror just drove him insane. He had finally gotten himself into a very good university after leaving the sorcerer world behind, and here you were ruining his experience.
You were in quite a few of his classes, which surprises him. You don’t look like you know anything about finances or business, let alone simple arithmetic. You with your eyes so big and expressive, your lips just so juicy and pouty. How could you possibly know anything that he was working so hard on learning? How could a single thought run through that dumb head of yours?
And yet, you were so kind to him. Even when he brushed you off and gave you the cold shoulder, you were always there to lend a hand when you could. You were someone who would come to class with a box of baked goods to offer to everyone. You always had a spare pencil for someone, or an extra notepad to share. And you never ever said no to someone’s request to copy your notes whenever they had missed a class. In reality, despite your appearance, you were someone who just genuinely cared.
Still, Kento was often left fuming whenever he spotted you. He knew about the archetypes and stereotypes of those around him and even himself. He knew that people thought he was a freak for his appearance, and yet they would never know the horrors and trauma he had gone through. He keeps his hair long in the front, his hoodie is always pulled up whenever he gets the chance. He’s even wearing black nail polish and hardly ever washes off the leftover eyeliner and mascara.
The others look at him like he’s some sort of plague, and yet you don’t even glance at him like that. Your looks towards him are soft and sweet, but he just knows there is no way you wouldn’t trick a guy like him. Nanami has to remind himself that you’re just as bad as the others, and all the kind things you do for anyone, it’s all just a plot to have everyone under the spiked heel of your cute stilettos. You were a sweet girl, but underneath it all, Nanami was convinced you could scratch out his eyes with a swipe of your perfectly manicured nails.
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Yet he could never really pull himself away from you completely. You always smell so good, and your lips look so plump and juicy. Kento swears he can smell your lip gloss from a mile away. You’re almost too good to be true, he thinks to himself often. You must have a trail of guys following you around, simping and moaning just for you. So Nanami figures it’s just easier to hate you and deem you unworthy of his presence or his words.
Things change one day when you’re partnered up with him for a finance class project. You sit at your desk, doodling something in your cute pink notebook. There’s a feathery pom pom on the end of your pen. Nanami rolls his eyes and scoffs as he sits down near you, not daring to even be that close to you. He keeps his distance, narrowing his eyes at you.
“Hiya Ken~” you coo at him, making his heart skip a beat at the softness of your voice.
Kento scowls, “It’s Kento. Not Ken.”
You pout softly, “Oh, yeah okay. Kento it is.”
You duck your head down a little, somehow feeling so self-conscious. Nobody has made you feel this way before. You’re dejected because you’ve always thought he was so cute, and now that you get the chance to shoot your shot, he’s rejecting you already. So you begin looking at the page explaining the project and you discuss things with him quietly. He seems so disinterested in what you have to say, his eyes flickering towards other people in the classroom. He wishes he could be partnered up with anyone else but you. He’d rather do the project alone if he’s being completely honest. You start to feel like you aren’t wanted at all.
“Listen, we don’t even really need to do any of this together. We can just work on our own parts and submit them together.” You suggest, your cheeks a little pink from not being able to do a simple project with the guy you like.
Nanami watches you carefully, “Hmph, I doubt you can even complete your side of things.”
Your heart aches at this. You know you don’t have the appearance of a scholarly type, but you do well in your studies. You worked so hard to get this spot in the university. You come from a small town, and you never really had much growing up. So for you to finally get this shot and to be able to treat yourself to cute things you’ve always longed for, it means the world to you. But you were growing a bit more upset with every passing moment.
You thrust the pen in his direction, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Kento smirks, “Come on, there’s no way you really understand this material. Just admit that you got here by using your good looks and charm.”
This made you recoil. Your stomach was in knots from the thought of him implying that you fucked your way into this school. You frown and your big eyes fill up with tears. Suddenly, Nanami doesn’t feel so confident about what he’s saying anymore. He’s got guilt and regret rising up in his chest like acid.
“Is that truly what you think? You see a girl wearing pink and liking cute things and you think she’s fucked her way into university? Well screw you, Nanami Kento!”
You rise up from your seat and gather all your things. You excuse yourself to the teacher and make your way into the hallway. Tears slide down your cheeks, ruining the makeup you so meticulously put on this morning. You feel your stomach turning in knots, not sure how to even process all of this. You know you can prove him wrong, and you will.
ONE WEEK LATER
Despite the issues with Kento, you were still able to complete your side of the project and hand it in early. When you attended your classes, you ignored him. Your heart longed for him, but you were beginning to think maybe people were right about him. He’s just a freak. He’s mean and will probably cast a hex on you. Still, you think that people were always being too harsh. Just the way that Nanami had been with you. Judging people before getting to know them was always a bad habit that most people had, but you were someone who tried not to pass the judgement.
The weekend was fast approaching and the big party at the local frat house was what was on everyone’s mind. Everyone was going, and you knew that even Kento had been invited. Despite still feeling so sour after what had happened, you decide that you’re going to attend that party. And you were going to show him what he was missing out on. Just because you like cute things and wore makeup didn’t mean you weren’t someone smart and fun.
The night of the party arrives and you show up dressed in a sexy, tight pink dress. It’s strapless and hugs your curves in all the right ways. You talk to a few people, mingling as you get a few drinks into you. You’re not even really sure that he was going to show up, you were just feeling a little hopeful. The more drinks you had, the more you wanted him to be there so you could apologize about your outburst.
The moment he walks in the door, your heart stops and your breath hitches in your throat. He’s cleaned up, but he still carries himself the same way as usual. The hoodie up over his head, his bangs cascading down over one eye. You see that he’s cleaned up his peeling nail polish, and it seems like he’s applied a clean coat of mascara and eyeliner. You don’t know if you’ve ever seen him put this much effort into his appearance. This makes you wonder if he’s hoping to meet someone here. You look away, your eyes darting down to the drink in your hands.
The music is loud and you try to drown all your insecurities in this drink. You wish he’d come talk to you considering you were much too shy now to approach him. He looks so good tonight too, and you were feeling drunk enough to try to shoot your shot again even if he had made it clear what he truly thought of you. So you just go snag another mixed drink and go to the dancefloor.
It’s not long before you bump into him as you’re on your way to the kitchen for a cup of water. Both of you are a little shy about this at first, and Kento can barely look you in the eyes. He’s mortified that he would bump into you after all the shit he’s said to you.
“Hey,” you say shyly. You drink some of the water.
He smiles sheepishly, “Hi…”
Neither of you really know how to proceed. But eventually it’s all bubbling up inside of each other. Kento fiddles with the guitar pick necklace that sits on his collarbone. You really look so cute tonight—no, you look so sexy. He’s never seen anyone look this good in his entire life.
“Hey Ken…erm, Kento…about the other day,” you begin but he stops you.
He smirks, “I kind of like it when you call me Ken.”
You blush at his words. You have always loved giving people nicknames. It’s just a way of showing you care. You take another sip of your water and giggle gently. Kento reaches up and brushes stray hair from your face.
“So what were you going to say?” He asks, leaning in a little closer.
You smile, “I wanted to apologize for the way I snapped. I guess it wasn’t right of me to tell you to screw yourself.”
It’s Kento’s turn to blush. He begins to explain himself, saying how he completely misunderstood you and judged you even before he got to know you better. He’s profusely apologizing and all of this is going straight to your heart. Before either of you can say anything else, you grab him by the wrist and you lead him to the nearest room with the lock on the door. This happens to be the bathroom.
Once the door is locked, you push him against the wall and kiss him hungrily. This is the moment you can truly feel his body against yours, and you realize that he is quite muscular. Kento groans as your tongue slides into his mouth, rubbing against his in the most sensual way. He’s had sex before, but never has it been this hungry and passionate. 
Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging slightly to pull him even closer to you. You are so desperate to melt into every aspect of him. You want him, you need him more than anything else. You would forgo anything else in this world just to be forever in this moment with him.
“Ken, I think I’ve liked you since the moment I met you,”
Your confession hangs in the air, making his heart race. He didn’t even think someone like you could think twice about him. You’re so pretty and soft and you make him so tongue tied most of the time. Despite his anger and rude treatment towards you, he’s been in denial about his own feelings for you.
“Shit, I’ve been feeling the same. I guess I just couldn’t come to terms with it.”
You don’t let him say anything else, you just capture his lips with yours once more. He pulls you in closer, his large hands caressing your curves through that tight little dress. You moan into his mouth when his hands cup your breasts and squeeze gently. When you pull away to breathe, a string of saliva keeps you connected.
Without another word, you kneel in front of him. Kento cannot believe his eyes as you undo his studded belt and unzip his pants. Regardless of his own feelings of resentment, he’s always thought you had the prettiest lips. The perfect pair to give the kind of blowjobs you only see in the premium porn videos.
Your eyes widen when you pull out his length from the confines of his boxers. He’s not only lengthy, but he’s got the kind of girth that ruins sex with anyone else. You know now that you really don’t want to let him go at all. With a soft giggle, you lean in to kiss the dribbling tip. Kento grunts as he feels your slick lips on his cock. He reaches down to tangle his fingers in your pretty, soft tresses. You spend a long time just pressing sloppy kisses to his cock. Then you lick all the way down the base, your tongue licking at his balls now. He shudders under your ministrations, knowing it’s going to be hard to hold on if he lets you continue for too much longer.
The moment you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and begin taking him into your mouth, Kento knows he’s hooked to this treatment. He knows he’s going to have to fuck you so good to show you how sorry he is about the shit he said about you the other day. You begin bobbing your head up and down, swallowing around him. He lets you suck him with expertise for a little while before he tugs on your hair and pulls you back up to kiss him.
“Get that pretty ass on the counter,” he says as he picks you up. You barely have to do anything as he sets you on the bathroom counter. He leans into another fierce kiss, this time he’s really taking the lead.
Kento doesn’t even bother undressing either of you. He just shoves your dress up over your hips, his other hand busy playing with your soaked pussy. He smirks when he realizes that you’re this aroused just from a little kissing and sucking his cock. He loves that he has this effect on you.
“You this wet just from blowing me?” he teases as his fingers push your panties to the side. Your eyes roll back as he rubs your clit in slow circles.
“Ken…” you breathe. You’re already so needy for him.
He spreads your thighs and spits into his hand. The saliva gets mixed with your own juices to coat his cock before he slides into you with one long thrust. You cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as he begins to pump into you. You’ve never ever felt this full in your life. All you can do is hold onto him and have him fuck you stupid.
“Please please…” you beg as the tip of his cock brushes against the sweet spot deep inside you. “Fuck me, Ken.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice. He picks up his pace, and you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer. You lock your ankles, keeping him in place. He hammers himself into you over and over, his breath hot on your face and neck as he grunts and groans.
“You gonna be my pretty girl?” he asks, locking eyes with you.
You feel so shy all of a sudden, “Y-yours?” You let out a moan when he thrusts into you particularly hard. 
“Yeah, mine. You gonna be my pretty girl?”
Your mind is reeling from all this pleasure. The coil in your stomach is tightening fast, and the thought of being exclusively Kento’s girl seems to be pushing you further and further towards your peak. You gasp as one of his hands slips between you, rubbing your clit slowly and with precision. You can barely think straight at this point. The room is filled with the lewd, wet sounds of your skin slapping together with every harsh thrust.
“Gotta answer me, baby. Or else I won’t let you cum.”
You whine, “Ken, please. I just…I can’t…”
He chuckles darkly. He’s never had this much power during sex before and it’s turning him on. He knows that you’re already such a little cutie and a sweetie, but he could easily turn you into his perfect little spoiled princess. He begins to pull away, making your orgasm slowly subside.
“I’ll be yours! ‘Wanna be only yours!” you squeal, trying to pull him back in.
Kento smirks and then he nips at your lower lip, “That’s what I like to hear.”
He gets back into the rhythm you need to cum. His thumb rubs your clit, making your thighs shudder and shake around him. As the pleasure builds, you feel tears streaming down your cheeks. Your back arches as stars dance in your vision. A shaky breath falls from your plump lips before you cry out his name. Your silky walls begin to pulse and clench around his already throbbing cock, pushing him over the edge just behind you. Shots of his thick, hot cum fill your waiting womb.
Slowly, you both grind against one another to prolong the pleasure. Then you both still, just basking in the afterglow of the pleasure. Kento kisses you softly, using both his hands to wipe away your tears.
“I’m really sorry for that bullshit I said the other day. You’re a good girl,” He says, pecking your lips.
“It’s okay, Ken. I forgive you.”
You’re both interrupted by a loud knock, followed by a series of giggles and cackles. Your cover is blown, but neither of you really care. The only thing that matters is that you have each other.
Kento helps you freshen up and dress once more, and you help him tuck his softening cock back into his pants. Then, hand in hand, you both exit the bathroom. You’re all smiles as you leave the party, walking on cloud nine as you lead him back to your dorm for round two.
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499 notes · View notes
misseviehyde · 6 months
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THE RILEY EXPERIMENT
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(Based on ip that Mana Omega kindly has allowed me to use.)
Riley Green wished his Dad had never remarried. It wasn't that he disliked his step-mom Rachel Grey, it was her bitchy daughter Riley that made his life feel like hell. Thanks to the marriage, they were now two teens exactly the same age, in the same class at school and now even living together in the same house.
But despite those superficial similarities, they couldn't be two more different people.
Firstly; it was incredibly annoying having the same name as your step-sister. Packages were constantly arriving at the house for the female Riley and if male Riley forgot to check the label properly, he'd often find himself holding a bra or a sexy tight fitting bodystocking from Shein or Pretty Little Thing.
Much to his embarrassment, Riley had found himself keeping one of the bras. It was a 34D leopard skin print bra. He would sometimes jerk off whilst wearing it; not really sure why he found the thought of having Riley's big tits on his chest such a fucking turn on; but doing it anyway. He was definitely NOT gay, but there was something going on there that made him hard. He knew it was wrong to steal underwear, but somehow it just felt so good. Riley never commented on the bra going missing, maybe she thought it had gotten lost in the post.
After all, she wasn't very careful with money. Riley seemed to have a unlimited spend amount on her credit-card and was constantly buying new clothes to keep up with the popular girl fashions. She was basically a spoiled brat. If Mommy wouldn't buy it for her, she'd usually find some guy to give her what she wanted.
Riley was into social media and seemed to spend more time building up followers on Insta or Tiktok then doing anything useful with her life. Riley didn't think his step-sister was shallow, he knew she was. She seemed to date a new guy every week and as far as Riley could tell she was definitely sexually active. Sometimes he'd hear... noises from her room. Noises that made him really horny.
One night he'd heard a sexy low buzzing from her room. He'd lain propped up against the wall, his stolen bra stuffed with socks as he listened to his step-sister groan and moan and he jerked his cock to the sounds of her pleasure. She was obviously using a vibrator or magic wand and he wondered if one of the packages that had passed through his hands had actually been a sex-toy. It made him wish he had accidentally opened THAT package.
"Ohhhh fuck yeahhhh I'm soooo fucking wet, mmmmmmhhhh..."
He had cum so hard that night.
The thought of what he might do with a dildo or butt-plug made him blush. No... he was definitely straight, these were just some weird ideas he was sometimes having. It was all the fault of having such a slutty step-sister.
Indeed, the main problem with living with her was that Riley was so fucking hot. She had a big round bubble-butt, large firm breasts and a gorgeous face. She looked good in everything and she had the spoiled, knowing, mean girl bimbo look that made boys weak. She always wore the sexiest outfits, had long sexy nails and was the purist vision of toxic femininity possible. She loved to tease Riley, manipulate and use him. She seemed to get off on the power she had over him.
In fact - in order to differentiate between them, Riley had popularised the use of his hated nickname Ry. Now nearly everyone called him Ry and it sucked.
The two of them couldn't be more unalike. Riley was popular, hot, pretty and sexually confident - Ry was dorky, nervous, unconfident and a virgin.
About the only advantage Ry had over Riley was that he was smart. A lot smarter. In fact he was a bit of a genius. Riley had used that to her advantage though, swiftly learning that now they shared a house it was pretty easy to copy Ry's homework and manipulate him into helping her grades improve.
"Ohhh you're such a good step-brother," she'd purr as she got another A- on a paper. "Hey, did I mention I have some new social media photos I'd like you to 'examine' for me. Let me air-drop them to your phone.'
Riley had learned that if she provided images of herself, her step-brother would do whatever she wanted. He was addicted to her beauty and femininity - whilst she found his intelligence useful.
Getting her brother to cheat for her had paid dividends. In fact Riley's grades had improved SO much as a result of her using her step-brother, her Mom had promised she could go to a music festival with her slutty friends, provided she passed the final test.
The final test.
There would be no way to cheat on that. Riley's frustrations were evident. Her Step-Bro couldn't exactly sit the test for her and she wasn't smart enough to pass without cheating.
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"Listen babe, you need to find a way to help me pass that test. I need to go to that music festival with my girlies. Find a way to make me smarter or something. Just imagine how hot I'll look in all the pictures I can send you."
Ry scratched his head. What was he supposed to do? You couldn't exactly make another person... smarter in under a week, could you?
Hmmmm, that jogged a strange memory. About a year ago, Ry had been following an interesting online science blog from a girl in another town. Laura Sims was another science prodigy (who he'd actually had a bit of a crush on). One day she'd just stopped posting, but he remembered her putting up some interesting ideas for a hi tech Crispr solution. The idea was the solution would eradicate genetic weaknesses in whoever drank it by taking the strengths from someone else's DNA.
It took a bit of searching - strangely Laura Sims no longer seemed to have much of an online presence. He found some information for a Laura Richie - some bitch from the same town who appeared to be living a life of decadence - but eventually succeeded in using the internet archives to find the page instead.
Laura had luckily uploaded her formula, hoping to 'open source' test it. He wondered why she'd taken everything down?
It didn't take long to create the formula. The advice from Laura was to try it before bed to give it time to activate. The main changes would come the day after. Riley looked on doubtfully as Ry took one of his head hairs and put it into the liquid. He gave it to her to drink. "This will give you my intelligence and smarts."
"Okay - if you're sure. I'll try anything to get to that festival."
Riley drank. "Ughhh, it tastes sour. Okay, let's hope this works. I'll go and start revising - maybe I'll get some early gains."
She left the room. As she did so, Ry noticed one of her long sexy head hairs had come free and was just lying there on the table. A terrible temptation overcame him. What if? What if he used the solution too? It wouldn't make him smart, but maybe it would make him more attractive and confident.
Feeling a little guilty, he dissolved the hair and drank the solution. It tasted sweet and his skin tingled, but nothing else seemed to happen. Weird... Riley had said it was sour.
Inside their bodies, the Crispr solution went to work. Riley's female DNA rushed through Ry's body, overwriting his cells. There was no melding here - no balancing. Riley's bitchy DNA was taking control and spreading like a wild-fire through his body.
Meanwhile Riley was also having her female cells consumed slowly and methodically by Ry's. The virus was even spreading to her brain, dendrites and synapses rewiring and altering to make her think like he did.
Now it was just a matter of waiting. The changes would soon be on their way
***
DAY ONE:
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Waking up groggily, Riley had to admit she didn't feel great. Her whole body felt sluggish and weak, like she had a really bad cold. Walking to the mirror she despaired to see that her usually flawless skin seemed a bit blotchy and riddled with acne, similar to her dorky step-bros. What the hell was his stupid formula doing to her?
Looking down she blushed. Her tits seemed obscenely large on her chest. She couldn't believe she usually allowed herself to walk around flaunting them like this. It didn't normally bother her, but now for some reason it did. She searched through her wardobe and finding a hoody, slid it on.
Her eyes seemed to be struggling. Maybe it was the light in here? Switching on the lights she tiredly walked to her makeup vanity and paused. Makeup? What was the point of makeup? She was only going to study for a test today.
Ignoring her usual cleansing routines and preparations, Riley took down the large Maths text-book she was supposed to be studying and opened it up. It was only twenty minutes later, that she realised she had become engrossed in the book without even realising it.
Her usually flippant mind that jumped from subject to subject seemed sharper and more focused. Sitting down at her desk, she began to study in earnest.
***
Ry opened his eyes and slid easily out of bed. He was usually a night person, so to find not only that he had slept well, but that he didn't feel tired of fatigued was a revelation to him.
He actually felt fucking great this morning. The Crispr solution seemed to be working. Walking to the mirror, Ry grinned in satisfaction. His usually bad skin was clearer and ever so slightly tanned. He had a healthy glow for the first time in years.
In fact his whole body seemed more toned with a healthier shape. He hadn't put any muscle on as far as he could see, but proportionally, everything seemed 'better'. The only downsides were a strange itching and puffiness on his chest and a few other weird changes.
His ass seemed fatter and slightly bigger. His hair seemed to have increased in length and volume. It gave him a rather... feminine... shape. He ignored the strange thrill of delight that brought him.
"It's early days for these changes yet. I just need to give it more time. I'll probably fill out and look more manly in the next stage. Probably to be expected I'd mirror a few of Riley's assets."
He wondered how Riley was getting on...
***
"Amazing," giggled Riley in satisfaction. Her mind was definitely getting faster. The hot sweats had started again earlier and she was having even more difficulty seeing, but it didn't matter to her anymore because the knowledge she was experiencing was so captivating.
She rubbed at her chest. Her boobs were really aching. For some reason her bra didn't seem to fit... it kept dropping down loose. She knew that cup sizes did change, she'd alternated between a 32 and 34 bust for years - but this felt different.
Her boobs seemed noticeably smaller. She'd always been proud of her big bust, her massive tits. Now she felt smaller and weaker without them. Strangely her clit seemed engorged today though. She'd had to stop doing her studying a few times to rub at the stiff little nub between her legs. If she'd had a more active imagination she'd say it seemed to be growing... almost like a tiny little cock.
But that would be crazy... right?
***
Ry rubbed at his chest. There was definitely something there and it was growing at a faster rate now. Sweat dripped from his body and he could almost hear his bones cracking and shifting within his body. It felt... pleasurable and strangely addictive. A desire for more transformation and a faster change rose within him. It felt like something good was happening to him. He wanted more of it.
Ry felt feverish and knew that the Crispr solution was spreading through his body like a virus. It had now reached critical mass and the changes were accelerating. Riley's DNA should be merging with his own, but it didn't feel like that. Something was wrong... or was it... right?
His skin felt softer, his hips seemed to have pushed out wider. The lumps on his chest definitely felt like breasts and his hair had doubled in length again.
"Ohhhhh fuckkkk," he groaned as another series of pops and cracks within his body sent him into spasms of pleasure. "Uggggh, what's happening to me?"
His pushed his chest out and grunted... the bumps on his chest got even bigger.
***
"I can't fucking see," groaned Riley as she reached up to her face. Her vision was totally blurry now. Her body felt wrecked and strangely weak. She looked down. Her chest was smaller now... her once large D cup tits now barely a B cup.
Staggering to her mirror, Riley saw her hair looked shorter. Her skin was paler and her soft feminine features seemed a little more boyish. Her swollen clit had formed a little bulge in her leggings. She could almost imagine a pair of balls were growing underneath it and her pussy sealing up, but that would be crazy!
Riley massaged her throat. Her voice was croaky and there was a strange lump in her throat that she had never noticed before. She'd been told boys had them... Adam's apples they were called.
Sweat dripped down her body. She rubbed at her armpits. They needed shaving again, which was weird because she'd only waxed them a few days ago.
"What the fuck is this solution doing to me?" she groaned. "No increase in intelligence is worth this. I have to find Ry!"
She staggered to the hallway, then out into the living room. Her vision was swimming, she was nearly blind now. Everything ached and her breasts felt even smaller. Her head hurt... she just needed to...
With a groan Riley sank onto a sofa and passed out.
***
Ry groaned as his face burned and his back ached. His hands went to his chest, there were now two big rounded mounds there just like the ones he had always imagined owning when he wore his sisters bra. Sweat was pouring off him and his vision was all blurry. He reached up and tore off his glasses. Strange, but now he could see again.
His voice seemed croaky, his neck sore. His face felt different, the features more delicate. Long hair tickled his neck. "I fucked up somehow," he groaned. "The Crispr is making me INTO Riley. I have to find her and warn her."
Staggering out of the room, dizzy and sick - he staggered into the living room. A figure was passed out on one of the couches. He tried to approach, but instead his legs began to give way. With a groan, Ry staggered to the other couch and collapsed.
Darkness took him and then the strangest dreams he'd ever had.
Meanwhile Riley's DNA continued to consume his own and change his body... the physical changes were now nearly complete...
***
DAY TWO:
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Ry awoke and for a second didn't know where he was.
The room smelled different. It smelt of sexy perfume. The sheets around him were pink and girly. Riley's clothes hung on racks around the room, plushies and cushions covered every surface.
He was naked in the bed.
A post it note lay on the table by the bed.
"Morning baby, me and your step-daddy found you and your brother passed out in the lounge. Were you partying last night? We put you both to bed in the right rooms and I undressed you. Were those your brothers clothes you were wearing? What were you doing? Lol Mom. XXX"
Pulling back the sheets, Ry saw his body had completely changed. He was no longer feverish, and the big wobbling tits on his chest were definitely real. His skin was healthy and lightly tanned, he had no body hair except for a tiny strip just above his... pussy?
Reaching down, Ry gasped at the sensation of his new vagina. He snatched his hand back in shock, although the urge to put it back there swiftly returned. Sliding out of the bed, he landed onto small perfect feet, then padding quietly across the room, he reached the mirror and stared in wonder.
Riley looked back at him. Well almost. He didn't have Riley's tattoos or her ear, nose or navel piercings. He didn't have any makeup on and his hair was a mess. His fingers and toes were unmanicured... but other than that... he looked just like her.
"Holy shit," he said in her voice.
The resemblance was so perfect, that last night her own Mother hadn't recognised that he was not really her girl. Riley's DNA had changed him into her. That probably meant in the other bedroom, Riley was now waking up as a physical copy of him.
And yet it wasn't just the physical changes. Something profound had happened to his mind, to his very soul.
The Crispr virus had infiltrated every cell of Ry's body, including his brain. He had been rewired and altered. He felt a new natural confidence, sexual assurance and a strong desire to monopolise on this situation. His personality was now more like Riley's than ever before. Even in his darkest dreams he could never have imagined being such a fucking bitch.
"Yesssss, I've always wanted to be Riley," he said in a slightly evil voice. "Mmmmh, I think I knew what that Crispr virus was going to do to us... but I did it anyway. I did it because I wanted to steal her life. I want to be Riley Grey... not Riley Green."
"And now that I used the Crispr," he purred allowing this delicious new persona to take control, "I am. Even Mommy thinks that I am. I am fucking Riley Grey and I want it ALL."
A wicked grin appeared on his face and he allowed his body language to relax. How did hot girls stand... ahhh yes, like this.
"These big tits are mine, mmmmh and this perfect ass. I've been remade in your image," he laughed. "A couple of trips to the hairdressers and the tattoo artists to get inked up and pierced... and no one would ever know the difference between us. This is my chance to assume your life and become the new you. I'm not going to waste it."
Riley smiled as she began looking for some clothes to wear. She just had to make 'Ry' understand that it was best to go along with what she wanted. The switch in pronouns was so easy to make... it suited her like a glove.
She was a woman now, she had all the equipment and soon no one would ever know she had ever been her dorky step-brother...
She just had to manipulate him the correct way.
***
Riley awoke feeling like death. Her vision was still blurry and she felt weak and wiped out.
"Here, put these on," said a familiar voice and her vision swam back into focus as a pair of glasses slid onto her face. "Don't panic. It's me, your step-brother. Honestly, I didn't plan for this to happen. The Crispr has gone wrong... I tried it too using one of your hairs. I'm afraid we've become copies of each other."
Riley gasped as she saw herself sitting on the end of the bed. Her hair was a fucking mess and she needed some makeup, but other than that it was definitely her.
Pulling back the sheets, she groaned in a very masculine sounding voice. Her body was now entirely masculine, a small cock and a pair of balls between her legs. Her boobs were gone and her flabby white body was that of a nerdy dork.
"Oh no, we have to fix this."
"I know," said her doppleganger, "but there's a big problem. We're changing mentally as well as physically. I'm not smart enough to make the Crispr anymore so I need you help to make a new batch, then we can try to reverse these changes. "
"But I don't know how to do it either," she complained.
"I'm sure you'll find a way," purred her twin. "I'll give you the notes I made and hopefully you can decode them. In the meantime we need to act like each other so no one gets suspicious. We'll have to dress like we normally would, you'll have to hide those tattoos and those piercings. I don't know how long we might be stuck like this. I guess it could be weeks!"
***
DAY THIRTY
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It had been a month.
Riley and Riley were becoming more and more like each other by the day.
Ry, as he was now known, had still not figured out how to make the Crispr. Probably because before she had given him the notes - the new Riley had made sure to delete certain important elements from the research.
Genuinely she wasn't smart enough anymore to remember or understand what she had removed - just that it had been enough to stop him. Hopefully that would be enough.
Riley didn't want a way back. She wanted to go deeper and deeper into this rabbit hole of femininity. In the last month she had discovered that being a hot, popular, girl was pretty much as amazing as she had dreamed it would be.
First of all there was the makeup and the clothes. They all made her look and feel incredible. If that wasn't enough, there was the enjoyment of sex.
Remembering that buzzing she'd heard all that time ago, Riley had uncovered the sex-toy collection. The first time she'd pushed a magic wand against her clit and felt it throb and vibrate, she'd known she was now a female sex addict.
It hadn't taken long to move from toys to the real thing... boys. There were plenty of guys wanting to fuck a hot slut like her, and after a couple of introductory sessions with some of Riley's ex-lovers - the new Riley had really picked up the pace.
There was nothing quite like bouncing on some hard cock and cumming all over it as a girl. It was such a good feeling.
If that wasn't enough, there was the social life. Riley loved being the centre of attention now... going to parties, having fun, everyone wanting to be her friend. She found the company of other hot girls intoxicating. To be part of the squad was like a dream come true.
Riley understood now she'd always harboured these desires. She'd always wanted to be like her step-sister and the Crispr had provided a way.
Of course, that meant that the new Ry probably now harboured her old desires... to cross dress and be a girl. They had probably only been heightened by the loss of his actual femininity.
Riley wondered if she could use that against him...
She wondered just how far it was possible to gaslight her new step-brother...
***
DAY 60
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"Babe. What the fuck are you actually talking about? What Crispr research, I didn't delete anything from your hard-drive."
Ry stared at his sister in astonishment. Over the last few months he'd come to think of himself as male - it was somehow easier that way. His memories of being Riley were a confusing mess, sometimes it didn't even feel real. That was why it was now so confusing when Riley actually suggested it wasn't.
Over the last few days she'd been acting increasingly difficult. She kept giving him blank looks when he mentioned getting their bodies back and she had been dropping hints in from of him that he might be losing his mind.
"Listen Ry, I know you have this weird fetish for dressing up in my clothes... I found one of my bras in your room."
"Wh? WHAT? Well, those ARE my clothes," he growled angrily. "Before we swapped, those were ALL my clothes."
"Swapped, what the hell are you taking about? You keep going on about this weird dream fantasy of yours. Are you really suggesting that two months ago we both drank a formula that altered our DNA and turned us into each other. Don't you think that sounds kinda crazy?"
"It's not crazy... and when I find the research, I'll prove it to you!"
Riley watched him go with an evil smile on her perfect lips.
***
DAY 260
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Riley sighed as her annoying step-bro peeked through her door. He was such a fucking pervert and always hanging around. He was easy to convince though. Sometimes she had trouble remembering her own lies now - manipulating him was getting easier by the day.
"Hey loser, get out of here. I told you I'm about to stream and I don't want you watching me."
"But Riley, I think I found something. A blog about this girl called Laura Sims, the same thing happened to her... I think."
"What thing?"
"You know, the Crispr solution... the DNA exchange. The personality and memory changes."
"Listen Ry, I already told you I don't know what the fuck you are talking about. Worse than that, I think it's time you admitted the truth. Do you really think a pathetic little loser like you could ever have been a beautiful gorgeous woman like me? Does it seem possible? Of course not. You're a boy and you've always been a boy."
"I have? What about these weird scars I have. They could be from tattoo removal right? Maybe I once had the same tattoos as you?"
"You know you got those in a fire right? Are you really suggesting that once you were me. That you had these tattoos and these piercings? That you and me somehow swapped lives and then I gaslit you into believing you had always been a boy?"
"I know it sounds crazy but..."
"It does sound crazy. Would it even matter? Would anyone believe you? I think you'll be happier if you just accept things are this way now, whatever you believe."
Sliding her hand onto his crotch, Riley grinned as she saw her step-brothers expression go soft.
"Mmmmh, why don't we stroke this little cock of yours to make it feel all better. Hmmmm?"
Ry groaned as his step-sister expertly jerked him off till he groaned and came. He watched her hot manicured hands slowly pump him up and down, draining his cock and all resistance out of him.
"There now. Feel better?"
"Yessss," he groaned.
"Good boy. Now get out of here. Go and goon in your room or something."
***
Listening to her step-brother grunting next door as he jerked off wearing her bra, Riley Grey played with her pussy and looked at herself in the mirror. Damn she was perfect. She was beautiful and sexy and hot. She loved being a girl.
She didn't even miss her old boy smarts. Who needed brains when you looked this good? Then again, she'd been doing a little research lately. She and Laura Richie had made contact and she had been intrigued by what she had found out.
She'd found out from the other girl that there was a second serum... one designed to improve the effects of the first. One that would make her a Goddess.
Maybe it was time to begin another new experiment...
THE END?
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284 notes · View notes
perlelune · 1 year
Text
Tag, You’re It | Ethan Landry | vii.
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Happy, carefree college days meet their abrupt end when every guy who approaches you mysteriously turns up dead.
Warnings: NON-CON, Stalking, Bimbo!Reader, Clueless Reader, Loss of Virginity, Incel Ethan, Cheerleader Reader, Skin Carving (w/knife), Canon Typical Slashing, Voyeurism, Kidnapping, Forced Masturbation, Filming, Blackmail
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
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The brightness of the floodlights beaming across the stadium rivals that of the stars' peppering the sky. The bleachers are packed, students waving and cheering from the crowd at the lined up players. 
Tension hangs in the air, so thick and palpable you feel the weight of it clogging your airways. 
Shaking your shoulders and strengthening your spine, you rush to join the other cheerleaders at the edge of the field. 
The minute she notices you, Alana makes a beeline for you, her blonde ponytail swinging from left to right and her forehead creased with a deep wrinkle of displeasure. 
You go still and keep your gaze low as she approaches. A lion might cower beneath the sharp coolness of her glare. 
If anyone can make someone flinch with her eyes alone, it's Alana. 
"Where the hell were you?" she blurts out without ceremony, sternly planting herself before you with her arms crossed.
Words stumble out of you in a nervous heap.
"I-I ran into a friend and-" you start but she interrupts you with a dismissive wave of her immaculately manicured hand. 
"Nevermind, the game’s about to start," she says, gripping her temple and releasing a deep, irritated sigh. She squints and mutters below her breath, "Just because I moved you from flyer to backspot doesn’t mean you get to slack off."
Your heart pinches at that. After Halloween night, nothing was the same. While Alana agreed to let you remain a member of the squad, she shifted your position when the rumors about you being in cahoots with Ghostface spread around campus like wildfire. 
She didn’t want you to sully the squeaky clean image of the team. So you were relegated to the bottom of the pyramid where you could blend in and not bring too much attention to yourself.
You don’t mind it excessively. The looks people give you are one thing. You’ve learnt to brush off the unfortunate scrutiny. 
But being part of the team…it’s the one thing in your life you’re actually good at. 
Damn near everything else, you have spectacularly failed at. 
Cheerleading makes you feel good about yourself. 
You don’t want to lose that. 
Lisa tosses a questioning glance your way, green eyes flicking to Ethan up in the bleachers, diligently snapping pictures. 
He notices you peering up at him and smiles at you but, unlike every other time, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes and he quickly looks away. 
When your focus settles on Lisa again, confusion etched on features, your heart sinks. 
You mouth the word 'later' to her. As she nods at you, your stomach knots at the prospect of the conversation ahead.
If only you could tell her now, rip the band-aid…but the game's about to start. 
You held high hopes for it to work out. Lisa was voted 'hottie of the month' more times than anyone else on the team. 
Everyone who meets her instantly falls for her charm and stunning looks. 
She also has many hobbies outside of cheerleading, from video games to card games you couldn’t understand anything about if you tried your hardest. 
You thought she and Ethan would click and make such an amazing couple. 
It never occurred to you he might already like someone else. You can’t remember getting a glimpse of him with any girl no matter how much you scratch your mind to recall. 
Now your curiosity is piqued about this mystery girl.
Ethan sounded so taken with her. 
She must be quite the girl to have stolen his heart like that, probably as cool and smart as he is. 
Maybe you could try to set them up instead. 
You're still hell-bent on figuring out a way to thank him for how much he's been there for you lately.
Helping him gather the courage to pursue the girl of his dreams could be one way to do that.
Alana claps her hands, her attention pivoting to the whole team, the other girls’ tense expressions mirroring yours. "Everyone, showtime!" she finally announces.
Thoughts vacate your mind as you lift your pom-poms and concentrate on performing the routine to perfection. You don’t miss a single step, losing yourself to the beat played by the band.
You can’t help but bask in pride when you land a perfect pirouette, never faltering once. 
Everything’s right again. Simple and easy. 
The thrill of the game. The bated breath each time the opposite team tilts the odds in their favor. 
The rush of victory. 
Victory.
Before you know it, the game’s over and the elated clamor of the crowd is filling the stadium. 
Amidst the overflow of joy erupting around you, Tyler fights his way through the crowd to reach you. 
He’s still in his football uniform when he effortlessly lifts you from the ground and whirls you in the air.
"You’re my good luck charm, gorgeous," he beams. 
You laugh as your head spins. "Ty, put me down."
He does as you say, keeping his hands on your waist to steady you when your feet touch the grassy floor again. 
"Sorry," he chuckles. "Got carried away."
As he bends over you and his lips graze your cheek, your stomach flutters. 
He rears back, blushing while holding your hands. "I’m sorry. Was that okay?"
Mouth agape, you blink up at him. "It’s totally okay," you stammer, heat rising in your cheeks. 
You’d missed that feeling, the simplicity of casual flirtation and having a crush. 
The euphoric bubble is popped when your gaze locks with Lisa’s in the background. As you watch her go back inside, your chest twinges. 
You squeeze Tyler’s hand apologetically. 
"Can we pick that up later?"
He gives a swift nod, his bright grin intact. 
"Of course. You’re coming to the OKB house to celebrate, right?"
"Maybe not. My friends and I kind of had plans."
He cups the side of your face. 
"Okay. What about Saturday night then? We can do dinner and a movie." He pauses and studies you. "I’m just not about games. I like you and I’d love to take you out sometime, that’s all."
His straightforward admission curves your lips skyward. But the smile on your face quickly dies as a chill blooms at the base of your spine, scattering outward and freezing you in your spot. 
Sucking a sharp breath, you whirl and inspect your surroundings.
You’re astonished to find nothing barring the excited people celebrating around you. 
You could have sworn you felt…something. 
Like someone watching you. 
The strange sensation clings to you as Tyler inquires, his tone rife with concern, "Is something wrong?"
You shake your head and slot a wobbly smile onto your face. 
"Uh…not at all. I’m free on Saturday," you chime. 
"Awesome. I’ll text you the details."
You hum your approval and he brushes another soft kiss on your cheek. 
Part of you is over the moon. You’ve wanted this for weeks since Tyler and you started hanging out. 
But something is off, though you can’t pinpoint what. A wrongness you can’t define or explain. 
Even as you stroll down the hallways toward the girls’ locker room, your nerves are frazzled, thrumming in alert. 
It’s been weeks since you’ve been this tense. Since…him.
"You’re coming, babe?" Mindy says, grabbing your hand as she runs into you in the hallway. 
Anika’s by her side and gives you a tight hug. "Hey, it’s been a minute," she observes.
You can’t deny that. Between cheer practice, Ethan tutoring you and all the assignments you need twice as much time than everyone else to complete…you’ve neglected hanging out with your friends. 
Before you can open your mouth to explain, Mindy rolls her eyes. "It’s because she spends all her time with Ethan now."
Anika giggles as your best friend pretends to gag at the mere mention of Ethan’s name. 
Usually, you’d respond to her antics but you’re too distracted tonight. 
Besides, there’s a conversation you need to have as soon as possible, much as you dread it. 
"Don’t wait for me. I’ll catch up," you tell Mindy before making your way to the girls’ locker room. 
Chad tries to stop you on the way to share his excitement but you promise him you’ll see him later. While disappointment paints his features, he lets you go.
Ethan’s nowhere to be seen and you remember about the trash he mentioned before the game. Your brow furrows in befuddlement. What an odd time to pick to handle his garbage. You suppose Ethan’s just this obsessive about having a clean space. Maybe he’s one of those ODC people. 
Gnawing on your lip, you sluggishly drag your feet inside the changing room. Most of the girls are wrapped in bubbly chatter, the excitement of the night coating the air. 
You clear your throat and sit on the bench near one particular redhead with a dour look on her face. 
Twiddling your fingers, you clear your throat before trembling words spill out of you. 
"Hey, Lisa. So I-"
She cuts you off while buttoning her shirt, "Don’t bother. I can already tell from your face."
Your brows draw together.
"My face?"
"Yeah, you just…you wear your heart on your sleeve, you know?" Her voice cracks as her mouth twists in a hollow smile. "He said no, didn’t he?"
Your shoulders sag. "I’m so sorry."
She flips her hair and releases a heavy sigh. 
"Don’t be. Plenty of fish in the sea and all that." She picks up her backpack and stands, hands on her hips. "Bummer, but it is what is."
"He said he already likes someone else," you explain, hoping to soften the blow. 
She gives you a pointed glare before scoffing, "Someone else, huh?" She exhales and folds her arms. "Do me a favor…Let him down easy, will you?"
Your lashes bat as you tilt your head sideways. "What do you mean?"
She sighs again and sidles closer to you to gently cradle your face.
"Sweetie, there aren't a lot of girls Ethan hangs out with…"
Your confusion grows tenfold. You noted that too. Was she trying to hint at the identity of the mystery girl? Did she figure it out before you could?
"Uh?"
Lisa scrutinizes you before an acrid laugh peals from her lips.
"I envy you sometimes, you know," she says, letting go of your face as a forlorn smile pulls her lips. "Maybe if I were more like you…I wouldn’t feel as crappy as I do right now."
"Lisa…"
She takes a step back when you reach for her, flashing you a huge grin. 
"I’ll see you at practice. Thanks for trying."
Lisa leaves and you change out of your cheerleading outfit and back into a regular one. You elect to shower at home on the way to meet up with your friends, too down in the dumps to properly bask in Alana congratulating you for your performance tonight after giving her usual post-game captain speech. 
As you gather your things from your locker, preparing to leave, your phone rings. 
You scowl at the unknown caller ID, picking up without much thought.
"Hello?"
"I thought we had something special. I’m so disappointed in you, princess," a distorted, tragically familiar baritone rumbles on the other end of the line.
Your heart drops to your feet. 
"I didn’t do anything. Please…" you whimper, tears already collecting in your eyes. 
You thought you were done with him…or rather that he was done with you. After giving him what he asked, you thought you were off the hook. 
You were so stupid.
Ghostface unleashes a sinister laugh, turning your blood to ice. 
"Didn’t do anything? Giving away what’s mine to some lame alpha bro. Opening your legs for some dickhead who doesn’t deserve you."
You sniffle, your fingers quaking around the phone.
"We haven’t done anything, I swear."
"Good…And you never fucking will."
His foreboding inflection makes your insides wrench. Abruptly, the call ends. 
Your phone clatters to the ground as you rush outside, tears streaming down your face. Every single thought in your head is turned to Tyler and the danger he’s in. 
You don’t get far, pandemonium unleashing around you as you leap into the hallway. Panicked students bump into you. You zigzag through them as the thunderous beats of your heart grow louder in your ears. 
A frantic scream reaches you from the other end of the hallway. 
"Somebody calls an ambulance," they shout. "Ghostface shanked one of the players in the shower."
Your eyes go wide as you stumble and collapse, the room swiveling off its axis through the veil of your tears. 
~
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