#jake wyler x cheerleader!reader

[onsunnyside]

⋆˚♡˳ he adores you

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Jake Wyler x bratty!cheerleader!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | fluff, swearing, jealous!jake and he's stupidly cute about it

𝗪/𝗖 | 1.1K

𝗔/𝗡 | ahhh, lovesick!jake makes a long awaited return. Feel free to send blurb requests or asks about this series!

𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫! 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You’re clearly the IT girl of the town. According to others: everyone is either in love with you, wants to be you or your friend, or is jealous of you.

And Jake is the IT boy of the town. The football star, popular, charismatic, rich, loved and adored by girls and guys alike.

The two of you would be an absolute powerhouse if you got together. Or when you get together, according to everyone else.

Honestly, everyone is wondering when you’ll finally date. And Jake is wondering too.

You already acknowledge him and smile at him, and laugh at his jokes. So you clearly don’t hate him, unless you're really good at faking that you don’t. You text (sometimes). He buys you things; flowers, food, anything you ask for. He loves talking to you. He’s confessed his feelings! But why haven’t you given him more than flirty smiles and quick remarks, it was eating him alive.

It makes sense for you two to get together. So much that it’s surprising how you haven’t even held hands! It’s like he’s been courting you forever and a day.

He’s getting closer to you saying yes to a date, he can feel it. Your answers went from, “Why would I want to see you when I don’t have to?” To shrugs with a glossy lipped smirk. So he’d say he’s winning.

It’s almost comedic to you. His desperate attempts to get your attention, only to embarrass himself when he has it. Tripping, walking into people or things, fumbling with his words, saying things that literally make no sense, or blurting out his thoughts. Each has led to a red-cheeked football captain and you trying to muffle giggles into your hand.

Sometimes you save him the embarrassment—other times you don’t because gets so cute and soft.

One time, there was a rumour of you getting a boyfriend while on your family trip to Italy. It all stemmed from a post on your page of you with cuddled up next to a boy who looked a few years older than you.

When Jake saw it, he figured it was just a guy you met. Nothing more. But people started talking about how you were extending your vacation to spend time with your hot Italian boyfriend.

Jake felt heartbroken at first. Even though he didn’t want to believe any rumours that weren’t confirmed from your mouth—it still left an awful grey cloud over his conscience.

He’d say you’re both technically dating, like almost dating, but it’s unofficial. He brings you gifts, is there for you when you need him. He’s like a boyfriend without the returned affection and title. (“So like, a friend?” Austin asked when Jake told him this).

He confronts you the day you come back.

“I know we aren’t dating—far from it. Not too far because I like to think I’m this close to taking you out on a date.” He pinches his index finger and thumb together. “But, we’ve bonded. I’ve memorized your breakfast order, I know your favourite songs of the month, and how you hate when your straw gets clogged with your milkshake—that's why I always get two!"

“Jake.”

“C’mon! I court you, I dote on you, I adore you! And I know you feel the same way because you would have broken my nose if you hated me.”

“I could still do that if you want.”

He ignores your words, stepping closer and hesitantly taking your hand. He pouts, expression soft and hurt. “I know you, I know you better than I know some of my best friends. You know how I feel about you—and I know you feel the same. I can see it in your eyes, you try to hide it but you like me as much as I like you.”

You’re a little stunned. Looking between your linked hands, not remembering if he took your other hand or you took his. The distance between you both is small, you can see the mix of blues in his eyes.

Did you like him? Well, of course you did! You did dislike (not hate) him for a while.

But now it was different. You stopped disliking him the moment he walked you to your car with his jacket over the both of your heads while it was raining—and you liked him when you checked your rear view and saw him standing in the rain with a stupid loved-up smile on his face. It was cliché but, fuck, you were a sucker for that kind of stuff.

“So why the hell does some stupid dude in Italy get to take you out before me!”

Your jaw drops. “Huh?”

“I get it. He’s probably some posh asshole who wears designer scarves and eat lunch on his yacht everyday.”

“Don’t you have a yacht?”

“It’s my dad’s, not mine. Huge difference.”

You blink slowly. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Oh, so he didn’t ask yet?” Jake has gone mad. “That means I still have a chance, right? Please let me take you on a date.”

It finally clicked. You couldn’t sigh loud enough. “No, he didn’t because he’s dating my mom’s friend.”

Jake froze. “Your mom’s friend?”

You shrugged. “She’s a hot middle-aged woman in Italy, old money rich and he’s a 22-year-old in college. They’re both in a happy and healthy business deal.”

“Oh. The… sugar exchange.”

You shook your head. “You’re lucky I have built a tolerance for your idiocy.”

“A good one, hopefully?"

You just narrow your eyes.

Jake looks down at your linked hands, slowly bringing one of yours to his lips. He presses a soft, delicate kiss. "I'm super glad you're back safe."

"Mhm."

"And... that you aren't dating anyone right now."

"Of course you are."

He peers down at you, you're just so perfect, he's going to explode.

“So, that date?” It's so blunt, and unabashed. Completely different from his fumbling lovesick ways. You're almost caught off guard.

“Hm, I don’t think you deserve it. You did just blow up at me. My daddy doesn’t want me dating boys who disrespect me.”

Jake gapes at you, looking adorable and hot at the same time.

“But, I don’t tell my daddy everything.”

You turn, walking away with a fluttering in your chest. You turn to look over your shoulder, and catch Jake throwing both his arms up, eyes shut, mouth open in a silent victory shout.

He opens one eye, sees you, then drops his arms to his sides, almost whacking a passing student on the head. He apologizes and waves to you with a nervous smile.

"Wait, was that a yes?"

“Have a great day, Wyler.” You blow him a sweet kiss.

Just before you turn the corner, you see him fist pumping the air and walking away with a skip in his step. "It wasn't a no, either!"

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: this man is going to live in my heart forever. I hope you all enjoyed this !! I'm always open for your thoughts/feedback <3

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞-𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬

[mypoisonedvine]

peaches & cream || soft!dark Jake Wyler x reader

for @stargazingfangirl18​'s 5k challenge! I used the prompt, "the town golden boy isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks."

word count: 3.6k

warnings: smut (noncon), stalking/obsession, some degradation/negging (but lots of praise during the actual smut), kinda yandere vibes?, touch of breeding kink at the end, definitely flirting with the boundary between soft!dark and regular dark but I like to think it’s a fine line

“Sorry, but that’s a seasonal flavor,” the girl at the counter explained in a snarky monotone.

“Well, yeah, but isn’t it still… the season?” you pressed; normally you weren’t the sort of person to argue with a cashier over a milkshake, but the look she was giving you made you feel like she was holding out on you— especially when the promotional poster for the very thing you were trying to order was just behind her head, and said the flavor was available for two more days.

“We’re out,” she answered firmly, but then her face suddenly shifted to a much more pleasant expression as you heard the chime of the front door opening behind you.  

You felt his body hovering behind yours just as his hand laid on the counter beside you, caging you in.  It was even more unsettling with the context that there was a whole line of people waiting behind you already.

“I’ll get your usual,” the girl promised to the man beside with a flirtatious smile as she disappeared to the back, returning almost instantly with a shake in her extended hand.  “Peaches and cream milkshake— extra whipped cream, no cherry.  Enjoy!”

Your eyes widened at the reading of your own order.  “I thought you were out!” you protested, going completely ignored.

"If you were my girl, this sort of thing wouldn't need to happen."

You recoiled from Jake's voice in your ear, and he smiled in spite of your snarl, bringing the straw to his lips slowly.  With a shudder you walked away, deciding it was probably better to forgo a milkshake anyways— especially if it was a chance to avoid everyone’s favorite senior, the football king who basically owned the whole town for no other reason than being good-looking, athletic, and allegedly “charming” or whatever.

Of course, he followed you, sitting across from you in a booth and silently shooing his posse of fellow teammates to go off and give you two some space.  If only he would give you space.

“We can share,” he offered as he held the milkshake out towards you.  “I know it’s your favorite… it’s mine too.”

“I’ve lost my appetite,” you explained quickly as you pulled a book out of your backpack, intent on ignoring him since you couldn’t physically force him to leave.

He shrugged and returned to sucking on the straw, watching you unwaveringly as you tried to read your book— staring at the page was going well, but you couldn’t seem to actually get any words down.  Had you forgotten English as a written language or something?

“Could you leave?” you finally asked as you groaned and looked up from your book.  “You’re distracting me.”

“I’m literally just sitting here,” he reminded you.

“And it’s distracting!”

He smirked proudly.  “My presence tends to have that effect on people.  Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

You rolled your eyes, burying your face back in your book.  “You know, you may have everybody else fooled, but someday you’re gonna have to leave this pathetic little town and go into the real world where throwing a ball isn’t a career and nobody fawns over you just because you have the audacity to be attractive.”

He chuckled lightly.  “Right, because you have those big city dreams of yours, but believe it or not some of us like this ‘pathetic’ little town.”

“Well, of course you would,” you snorted.  “Your dad’s the mayor and your girlfriend’s the head cheerleader.”

“My ex-girlfriend,” he corrected, finally getting your attention enough to make you shut your book.

“What?” you blurted out.

“Yeah, she dumped me,” he explained plainly.

“Why would she do that?” you asked, making him look much too proud of himself again.  “Finally snapped out of the brainwashing, huh?” you added, effectively killing his smug expression.

“I guess you could say that.  She met some college guy from out of town… I think her parents liked me too much, she needed a bit more rebellion.”

“Well, my condolences to you,” you smiled, “and my congratulations to her.”

“I thought you hated her,” he scoffed.

“Well, now she and I have something in common: a complete lack of interest in you!”

“I mean, I wouldn’t go that far,” he smirked, “she still comes over every now and again to suck my cock.”

You choked on nothing, face getting warm at his crude language.  He didn’t talk like that with anyone else; it was so cruel the way he kept everybody in town under his spell except you, the way he let you in on his real darkness with no one else to confide in or believe you.  

It was so fundamentally lonely, being the one person who wasn’t in love with Jake Wyler.  It was even worse being the one person Jake Wyler loved.

At least, that was the word he used multiple times in his semi-anonymous letters, his incessant calls and emails, his speeches outside your window.  He’d actually cooled off lately, you wondered if maybe he had finally let go of this ‘the one thing I can’t have’ obsession and learned to appreciate his girlfriend (who, for all her personality flaws, was objectively gorgeous, and seemed to at least be nice to him if nobody else).

But now that she left him (which you were still trying to process, honestly), you were surprised he hadn’t already moved on to the next best wannabe model and/or reinstated his campaign to win you over.

Then again, the look in his eye kind of made you think you were about to witness the second one.

“You know, when she does come over, I can only ever finish because I’m thinking about you,” he revealed in a low voice.  You grimaced and slid out of the booth, stuffing your book into your bag and barely managing to throw him a goodbye before you dashed out.  

It wasn’t like you really thought you could get away from him— he had made it clear over and over that you couldn’t— but the idea of being crammed in that booth with him, surrounded throughout the diner by his adoring fans who somehow didn’t manage to overhear him when he said those awful things, made you feel nauseous.

What you should’ve considered was that, fans or not, those people were witnesses, and now that you were running out into the dark streets of the town and he was chasing after you, you didn’t have any.  It was just you and him, and when you turned into an alleyway to try to get home faster, even the dim glow of the streetlights couldn’t see you anymore.

“Hey,” he stopped you with a tight grip on your arm, pulling you back into him.

“Let me go!” you whined, trying to tug yourself away but only ensuring that his hand would leave a bruise on your arm.  

“I will when you just hear me out, okay?” he hissed, spinning you around to look up at him.  "Why don't you just give me a chance?  Don't you wanna be popular?" 

"I don't want to be anything that requires being within ten yards of you!" you spat.

He seemed bewildered, but you knew he wasn’t actually that stupid.  "Why?"

"Because you know why!"

He sighed, slumping his shoulders a little.  "Are we still on that, really?  I told you, you should take it as a compliment.  You know how many girls would kill to catch me jerking off in their panties?"

"You're sick, Jake,” you sighed, “and you're really good at hiding it from everyone else but I know what you really are.  You told me you needed help with algebra and I actually believed you, for months you were lying to me to get close so you could perv on me when you already had a girlfriend and two side chicks anyways— god, Jake, you're crazy!"

You yelped when he pinned you to the wall, blue eyes darker than ever.  "I really, really hate that word."

Against the wall, your back straightened as you felt the tone shift completely for a moment before he was back to his jovial self again, giving you a somber but almost-genuine smile.

“The only kind of crazy I am is crazy about you,” he defended with a laugh, leaning in a little closer.  “Why can’t you see that?”

As his eyes moved from your own to your lips, a renewed sense of fear shot through you.  “Jake…” you mumbled, apparently your feeble attempt to ask him to stop.

“Just one kiss,” he bargained, “and then I’ll let you go.  Okay?  That’s all I need.”

“N-no,” you whimpered, turning your head away as he leaned in even further.  “Stop.”

“Come on, it’s just a kiss, baby,” he cooed.  “Then you can leave.  Hey, you might actually like it.  You know, I think that’s what you’re really scared about… and I get it!  When I first realized I was in love with you, it was scary for me, too— I mean, I’m the most important guy in town and you’re just some bookworm, it’s sort of social suicide for me so I had a lot to worry about.”

There he went with his negging again, trying to bring you down to his level.  Your brain knew that, it saw right through it, but your gut still sank with doubt.

“But I know now that love is nothing to be afraid of,” he concluded.

“No, Jake,” you whispered, feeling tears well in your eyes, “I’m afraid that you’ll hurt me if I don’t do what you want.”

“Well, that is something to be afraid of,” he replied with the coldest laugh you’d ever heard; you didn’t hear any agreement, but the lack of denial was deafening.  “So just be my good girl and let me kiss you…”

You swallowed dryly, your eyes wide open and searching for anywhere to look but up at him.

He was so close now that his lips brushed against yours with his command: “say it.”

You stammered over your breath, not sure exactly what he was asking for, and you winced as you felt his grip tighten on your arms.

“Say, ‘kiss me’,” he clarified in a harsh whisper.  “Say, ‘please’...”

“Please,” you repeated awkwardly, hearing it in your voice but so clearly not your own words, “kiss me.”

He let his mouth intertwine with yours and your eyes were still wide open as he let his own fall shut, moving his hands to clutch your face gently instead as you gave a weak effort to kiss him back.

Objectively, he was good at this.  A lot of things were objectively true about Jake: as much as you forced yourself not to see it, he was handsome; as much as it didn’t really matter to you, a boycotter of all things sports, he was talented; and, as much as no one else realized it, he was completely deranged.  For every word of kindness from him there was another of anger.  For every love letter in your locker, there was a threat left scrawled on crumpled paper inside your bedroom, just so he could remind you that your parents would let him into the house if he asked and never question it.

Which was why it was extremely important that you did not enjoy this kiss.  You needed to hate the way his fingers traced over the pulse in your neck, the way his tongue tickled yours, the way his teeth just barely grazed your lip until your knees went a little weak.  

But wow, there was something primally satisfying about melting into his arms, feeling his strength support you like it was nothing when he held your waist and pulled you closer.

You could almost forget that it was him.  But then he mumbled your name into the kiss, nearly moaned it in fact, and it pulled you back to reality.  With a gasp, you pushed him away and blinked your eyes open, not even realizing you’d closed them; hating how quickly you’d started to give in to him.

“There, one kiss,” you mumbled, wiping your mouth with the back of your sleeve.  “I’m gonna go home now—”

“You can’t be serious,” he laughed incredulously.  “You’re gonna kiss me like that and tell me you don’t feel this, too?  We’re so meant for each other— we even order the same milkshake!”

“That doesn’t matter!” you denied.

“I love you!”

“That doesn’t matter either!”

You turned to leave but he grabbed you again from behind, covering your mouth with his hand when you opened your mouth to scream.  “Don’t fucking talk to me like that,” he hissed in your ear, “and don’t walk away from me.”

Fighting against his grip did nothing but exhaust you: he only needed one arm to hold you back as he dragged you deeper into the alley.  Your legs swung wildly and landed a kick to his shin, and he plugged your nose while he was covering your mouth so you couldn’t breathe.

“Listen to me, you stuck up little bitch,” he growled.  “I’m really sick of this ‘hard to get’ act.  I know you want me.  So shut up and let me show you what you’ve been missing out on, okay?  You gonna be good?”

In that moment, you would’ve agreed to anything for a chance to fill your lungs with fresh air, and so you nodded, the back of your head rubbing against his chest.

“You gonna be nice and quiet so nobody catches you getting fucked like a whore in this alley?”

Another nod, more feverish than the last, ended with a sharp inhale as he let go of your nose.  But he was still covering your mouth, his arm around you now feeling less like restraint and more like an embrace.

"I've wanted you for so long, you can't even imagine," he explained softly as he leaned down and kissed your neck, gripping your waist tighter.  "You and this perfect body of yours.  This smart little head that thinks too much…"

You swallowed dryly as his hand trailed lower.

"This pussy you've been hiding from me for much too long," he added darkly, roughly shoving his hand up your skirt.

You whined behind his hand but he didn’t seem to care; he pulled your skirt up and grinned at the sight of your panties— because he recognized them.

“I remember these,” he purred.  “They look good on you, baby, but they looked better covered in my come.”

Your cheeks burned with shame— you already hated yourself for still wearing the pair he’d tampered with, but it was harmless after a few runs through the washer, right?  You weren’t going to stop wearing your favorite panties just for him, that would mean he won, in a sense; or, that’s what you told yourself to justify not burning them.

“Don’t worry, they’re gonna be soaked by the time I’m done with you,” he purred, slipping two fingers between your legs and growling slightly.  “Well, actually, you’ve already done a lot of the work for me.”

He pulled the fabric aside and explored your pussy instead, tightening his grip over your mouth as you made little muffled yelps.  The rough pads of his fingers found and targeted your clit instantly, that megawatt smile pressed against your ear as he started to rub your bud harder.

“Mm, feels good, huh?” he taunted, moving even faster as your hips jolted unintentionally.  He stopped only to bring the fingers to his lips, humming at the taste of you which he sucked off of them.  “So sweet, babygirl— better than any peaches and cream milkshake, that’s for sure.”

The wet fingers trailed down your body again, finding your entrance that he suddenly pushed into; it was a little too much without any warning and it made your eyes shoot wide open, a squeak barely escaping your throat.

"Just as tight as I imagined, baby,” he sighed, “all those times I used your panties, or hooked up with somebody who almost looked like you from behind.  You’re gonna feel so good on my cock, I know you want it so bad.”

He took his fingers out of you to reach back and open his belt with one hand, the sound of the buckle matched in upsettingness only by the sound of his jeans sliding down to his thighs.

You heard your own breath loud and heavy against his hand as you felt his hard cock press against your thigh, a drop of precum smearing on your skin.  Your breathing halted suddenly, though, when he slid himself between your legs to rub his cock over your exposed and swollen pussy.

“Oh, babygirl, you really are too good to me,” he grinned, kissing your ear tenderly.  “So fucking wet and ready for me, huh?  You need it that bad?  You’re gonna get it, baby, ‘m gonna give it to you so good…”

Bracing yourself as best you could, you felt the head of his cock push against your entrance before he slammed in all at once, making you hiss in pain.

“Oh god,” he groaned, “fuck, you’re so warm…”

Already he was fucking into you roughly, pumping faster and deeper, paying no mind to your choked sobs of pain from the wide stretch.  Even when it stung it felt oddly good, and the underside of his cock seemed to slide perfectly over your g-spot with each movement until your eyes began to roll back in your head.

“So fucking good,” he moaned hoarsely as he braced you against the brick wall for leverage, reaching back down with his free hand to rub your clit again.  He chuckled when your legs quivered, and he must have felt your walls tighten around him, too.  “I wanna hear those pretty moans, baby, if I take my hand away are you gonna be good?” he asked darkly.  You nodded, enjoying the brief feeling of freedom that came from not having his hand over your mouth anymore.  But then again, it was humiliating that now he could hear your panting breaths, your desperate mewls that you failed to swallow down.

He made a sound that was almost like a laugh as he watched you squirm in his arms, one more way he had to lord this all over you, as if forcing you to take him in an alley wasn’t enough on its own.

His breath against your ear was hot and strained, each meeting of your hips to his accentuated with a little grunt from him.  It didn’t help at all that his fingers were rubbing you just right, with so much skill that you wondered if he’d somehow figured out how you touched yourself when you needed to get off.  Honestly, you wouldn’t put it past him to have spied on you before, even if you couldn’t figure out when or how.

The hand that used to cover your mouth slid up under your shirt and pulled your bra down, a large, rough hand groping each breast and pinching your nipples until you bit down on your lip to stay quiet.  For all the mocking and teasing he’d done before, he was pretty direct now— like he was trying to make you come as fast as possible, overloading your body with sensation.  

And did he have to be so fucking good at it?

“I know you’re close, babygirl,” he whispered in your ear, “just let go…”

“Jake, please,” you sobbed, too far gone to appreciate that no begging would make him stop now.

“Come for me,” he demanded roughly, fucking you even faster as he sucked a mark onto your neck, and finally it all came crashing down with a choked-out cry of his name and a gush of warmth dripping out around his length.

“Ohh fuck, there you go, fuck it feels good when you come for me,” he grunted, thrusting even faster.  “You’re gonna milk my cock with that pretty pussy, babygirl— you’re gonna make me come…”

“J-Jake, not inside!” you interjected, getting his hand back over your mouth in return.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothed, “waited too long for this to pull out now.  Feels too fucking good.”

Behind his hand, the difference between whines of hatred and moans of pleasure was irritatingly subtle.

“I love you,” he reminded you in a voice exhausted yet heavy with desire, “so fucking much…”

A few more erratic, brutal thrusts accompanied by heavy pants and he was gone; you could feel his cock pulsing with each rope of come that filled you, so deep that your head fell dejectedly with the realization you had no hope of washing it out now.

His hand fell from your mouth but he didn’t pull out for another few moments as he caught his breath, gently peppering your neck and cheek in slow kisses.  “Baby,” he finally sighed, breaking the crushing silence, “you’re so fucking perfect.  I knew you were made for me.”

I hate you, you wanted to cry out, but words escaped you as he hugged you tightly and pulled your panties back into place, soaking them with his come as it leaked out of you just like he’d promised.  He stuffed his cock back into his jeans and helped you adjust your clothes back to looking almost presentable, finishing it off by turning you around and smiling at you with serene pride before kissing your forehead.

"You're gonna make such a beautiful prom queen," he cooed, “especially if you’ve already got a nice little bump showing…”

His hand rubbed beneath your belly button for emphasis, making you whimper and force your eyes shut as tears rolled down your cheeks.

"Shh, don’t cry, baby,” he soothed, kissing your cheek softly.  “Trust me, you're gonna love being my girl."

[georgiapeach30513]

we haven’t gotten any ran or kitten smut in so long 😔 u can’t forget about the og’s guys

Well now they did get some smut for Christmas, BUT I have been wanting to do a quick little something about a letterman jacket I've teased twice now....

🖤🖤🖤🖤

His Letterman Jacket

Summary: Ran finds something of your old flames

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, whipped cream, oral sex (M receiving), unprotected sex, breeding kink, cream pie, tiny bit of degradation, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.1K

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

Desperate Love Masterlist

Ransom sits on the bed, thumbing through a box of clothes as you move them into his house. His fingers connects to a bright piece of blue and orange before pulling it out of the box. His fingers rubs over the name sewn on it. "Who the fuck is Jake Wyler?"

"Give me that!" you screech trying to grab it from his hands.

"Wait, is this...it is! This is...he gave you his letterman jacket!? Are you sure you just had sex with him?"

"You're not funny. And yes, that's the guy I lost my virginity too. Just don't..." you see him reach back into the box pulling out his jersey, but with a sly smile pulls out your cheerleader uniform. "No."

"I'm sure you would look so sexy in it."

"No."

"You kept the damn thing. You brought here. Am I supposed to know that this fucking thing is hidden in the back of our closet, and I don't get to see my fiancé wearing it," you roll your eyes and return to putting the other clothes away. "How'd he do it?" you take a peak out of the closet, and give him a questioning look. "How'd he turn...no, that sounds crass. What made you want to have sex with him? Did it just happen or...?"

"Or," you walk back into the closet, needing this conversation to change course. You hear him get up, and feel him come up behind you, those dark eyes sizing you up. "What do you want Ran?"

"How. Did. He. Do. It?"

"You'd laugh and not believe me."

His hands spin you around and you look up at him through your lashes, "Just tell me. I'm sure it was better than me telling some girl, hey wanna have sex? So how..."

"Whipped cream bikini."

"You put on a whipped cream bikini? My kitten is a..." you laugh shaking your head no. "He wore the whipped cream?" Ransom's laugh bellows through the room, and again you turn back to unpack. "Kitten, you're kidding me right?" you shake your head no, still not looking at him. "And it worked?"

"Clearly. Listen, Mr. Drysdale, he got that whipped cream licked off his body sloooowly."

"That's not funny."

"You're the one that won't drop it. Now, back to this closet. All your clothes on this side. Mine go over here."

His lips turn up when he looks at the closet, "I don't have any room in here now. We need a bigger closet."

_____________________________________________________________

Running home after dropping the twins off with Marta and her family, while Ransom takes you on a date, you run into the bedroom and find that cheer uniform laying on top of the jacket. "You're not fun..." turning around to see Ransom wearing a whipped cream bikini. Cherries over his nipples and you bite at your lip, holding in laughter. "You're jealous."

"I want you to lick this off me very, very, very slowly," he walks a bit closer. "We're not going out for this date. But I also want that on you."

"The uniform or..."

"Both."

"I was going to say just the jacket, but have it your way."

He grabs your wrist with a wicked smile, "Just the jacket," slowly taking off each article of clothing. Letting each piece slide off your silky skin. When you're completely naked, your eyes stay on him, putting that jacket on over you. Eyes move up and down your body, "I get. We're never getting rid of that thing. I can be Jake Wyler for the night."

Getting on your knees you hold tightly to thighs, licking up the length until coming to that sweet cream. Your tongue lapping up the foam, and of course you roll your eyes up to look at him. Licking and biting off as much of the topping as you can. Your mouth devouring his cock, until it hits the back of your throat. Bobbing on his length a bit before pulling him out with a pop.

Trailing your tongue all the way up before sinking down over his pec. "You're such a sloppy slut," he tells you with a deep chuckle when you pull off. Leaning into his mouth to give him the cherry.

"You're my favorite kind of sundae baby," you hum at him before you start to dive in on the other side. He pushes you back, opening up that jacket, and pushing it off your shoulders. Pressing his sticky skin against yours. "You going to clean me off?"

"Always, my love," you tremble when his mouth connects to your skin. Pressing into you with more force until he has you laying on the floor. "You know what we haven't done in awhile," he asks you cheekily.

"What's that?"

"I love my pretty kitty, you know that, but what about your ass?"

"Not tonight."

"Did Jake get that?" you shake your head no. "That other..." before he could say you just shake your head. "Just me?"

"Just you, baby," pulling him down to your lips you kiss your fiancé as if your life depended on it. Chirping when he presses through your folds, "You're getting good at that."

"Getting good? Woman, I've been good with you."

"You have," his hips slowly draw up before pushing back into your warmth. Every part of you just soaking in every part of him. Even the sweetest of love making is just so good between the two of you. Feeling him stretch you out and fill you up so well. "Goah, I love you."

"Love you too, Kitten. So, when do we get to make another baby?" grabbing ahold of his ass you push him deeper into you. "Now?" his voice comes out excitedly, when you nod your head, something comes over him. His hands go to the floor beside you, and his thrusts become harder and deeper. "I'm gonna fucking fill you up. Kitten you're going to stay filled up until I fuck a baby right into you."

Back arched and holding onto him tightly. Your body slides across the floor with every hard pump into you. "You'll be dripping in my cum. You like it though don't you?"

"With you, yes."

His hips slam into yours, needing you to feel every part of him. Feel how excited he is for you to be filled with his seed. Cumming hard over his cock at the thought of how much he's going to be fucking into you. His pace doesn't change. Won't change until he reaches his high. And when he does, the warmth that washes over you, is inexplainable.

His body falls on yours. Arms pressing against you, and his head laying on your chest. "You're sticky," he whines at you.

"So are you. You had whipped cream on you that you had to shove on me."

"Shh, how about you give me a bath?"

"You're ridiculous."

Masterlist

[visbiscuit]

Daydreaming ( jake wyler )

1st December

(full) 25 days of CHRIS-mas ,, My Masterlist

@wiypt-writes

disclaimer. English is not my main language. If you notice any kind of mistakes, please tell me and don’t be mean :). I am giving a shot at this to try and improve my written English. Thank you for paying attention and have a biscuit for your kindness!

pairing. Jake Wyler x Fem!Reader

genre. fluff

short summary. Jake Wyler never noticed her through high school, but she noticed him. Oh, she did, all right. What happens when she finds out that he not only noticed her but even knew her deepest secret?

word count. 2214

warnings. this one-shot is so stupid, the characters are dumb and there is dirty dancing involved. i know, ridiculous. but i wanted to pay homage to the movie and if you saw it, you know how cringe and stupid it is. well, so is this one-shot. everything here is so random. i am so sorry, had a lot of fun tho.

you’re welcome to reblog, like and comment!

John Hughes High. The imposing building was smaller than she remembered. She had forgotten about all the greenery surrounding it, the parking lot with assigned spaces, and the deafening sound of the bell that woke her up every morning. One thing she remembered perfectly was where her locker was: the second aisle to the left, the third aisle up. She had spent most of her freshman year of high school decorating it to her liking, only to take it apart each year and fill it with things she liked. Everything was temporary, even the Backstreet Boys poster that Y/N had sworn to love forever because they were the definition of her perfect boy. Or the scented candles that sophomore year had risked burning her biology books (not that she had minded, let's specify).

The thing that had been hardest to remove from her locker had been the pink carpeting she had decided to put inside it one day. Never was the choice more wrong. At first, it was nice, soft and above all original since not even Priscilla, the most popular girl in school, had had that idea. Then the carpet got dirtier and dirtier until it gave off a terrible smell that stunk of all the lunches she had eaten since she was six. She wasn't kidding. She hadn't opened her locker for at least five days, and then she'd finally made up her mind to remove the stupid carpet and throw it on the floor, as if it wasn't hers, and leave it there in total secrecy. Luckily, no one had realized that the stench was coming from her locker, otherwise, they would have teased her until the end of her days. Years later, Y/N would tell this with a smile on her face. She was a kid and that was the only way to get noticed at the time. There was even a contest for best locker and she had come in the first place two years in a row. She still had the trophies at her parents' house.

What was better than being triumphant in something pointless? That's right, nothing. At John Hughes High, it wasn't like you needed to have a 4.0 GPA or to excel in sports other than Cheerleading and Football. The school valued beauty, popularity, and a dazzling smile (which Y/N got just in time for freshman year since she was able to get her braces off by the end of eighth grade). Not surprisingly, the most popular people in school were Priscilla, whose last name she couldn't remember, and Jake Wyler.

Ah, Jake Wyler. Jake Wyler. Jake Wyler. How could she forget that name so melodious, so graceful, so strong? He, who with his black hair had enchanted the whole school, professors, and students. He, who with his intelligence had managed to graduate with a 2.4 GPA. He, who had won over the most unwanted and nerdy girl in school with his looks. He who had always ignored Y/N even though she was a cheerleader and he was the quarterback of the team. It was a stupid crush the girl had on Jake, but when Priscilla had dumped him once and for all, she'd hoped she'd have a chance. She'd even laughed when she'd seen Jake and Janey Briggs get close. But then they'd fallen in love, he'd dropped everything for her, and he'd joined her at the airport to declare his undying love. So, yes. She could and should forget that name. He had hurt her too much, even though she doubted he knew her name. At least until the night of the high school reunion.

"Y/N? Y/N Y/L/N?" a voice, his voice, made her look up from the glass of champagne they'd offered her when she'd entered the thematically decorated gym. Twenty-five years earlier, in that same gym, she had fallen in love with Jake Wyler.

As soon as she turned around, she was out of breath. It almost seemed to her as if a light illuminated her high school crush's muscular body. He had grown taller, his hair even blacker, and a full beard decorated his face. He looked like an angel who had fallen from the sky or maybe the devil who was about to strike a deal with her. Her palms were sweating and her armpits were a little too. She hoped the halo didn't form on her orange dress. "Jake," she whispered, a lump in her throat.

They'd never spoken to each other in high school, maybe just once to agree on who should bring the booze to a party, let alone touched. But that didn't stop Jake from wrapping Y/N in a warm embrace and lifting her slightly off the ground, almost crushing her. If they had taken a picture at that moment, they would have seen the woman's eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. What was going on? "My God, long time no see, huh? How's life? Still cheerleading?"

"No, no. I-I quit a long time ago," she laughed nervously, twisting a strand of hair with her index finger when he let her go. "I'm a teacher now, mhmm" she nodded. Her thoughts were completely disconnected from each other, she couldn't formulate an answer as to why Jake was so friendly all of a sudden. Maybe she'd hit his head and was dreaming, that was the only possible option.

"Oh, wow," the man said, scratching his beard and smiling through his teeth. "Teacher, huh? You were always a smart girl. I remember," he complimented her. He remembered? Who was this? Was this the same Jake from twenty-five years earlier or had he lost every brain cell and lived in a constant fantasy? Too many questions, zero answers. "I became a personal trainer" all those muscles explained "I love it, it's a job always about drive, it’s about power. I’m always hungry for more and I devour everything”

He was smarter than she thought. The last memory she had of him was finding out that he had made a bet with his friends. Not a very smart thing, not something from the Jake she was speaking with right now. "I thought you wanted to continue with Football."

"Nah, it wasn't what I really wanted to do" he brought a hand to his chest "It took a long time to realize what the world had in store for me, but now - he sighed - I'm happier than ever. I've got a great job, two wonderful kids, and a great house."

"And Janey? How's she doing?" the woman began biting her nails "I heard you two got married."

Jake tightened his lips into a thin line, then smiled bitterly. "Yes, in Paris. Then we divorced, then we got married again, and a week ago we finalized our second divorce."

"I'm sorry" she wasn't sorry at all, "I thought you and Janey were made for each other" that wasn't true, they were opposites and not the kind that complemented each other, but the kind that clashed until they hurt each other.

"I'm sorry too" her voice trembled, stricken with emotion. "We tried to make the marriage work for our children, but she thinks too much about her art. And I've always felt inferior to her. She's an amazing artist, I'm just a personal trainer."

Y/N was deeply touched by his words. She remembered Janey's skill, but she didn't think Jake could feel that way. She had destroyed him and now she had a chance to fix his desperate heart. "You are more than enough, Jake, don't ever forget that," she laid a hand on his shoulder.

He rested his face on it and smiled at her. "Thank you, Y/N. I knew there was more hidden under that very short skirt and smelly carpet."

The woman withdrew her hand as if she had been burned. "You knew about the carpet?" she was embarrassed.

"Of course, baby. Everyone knew about the carpet" he laughed "But I convinced the school not to say anything, I knew you would move out of shame and I didn't want to stop looking at you." Was this a declaration of love? "Or rather, I didn't want to stop looking at your legs" he whistled. Close enough.

That meant Jake Wyler knew of her existence. So why had he never spoken to her? Whatever it hardly mattered. Now there they were, together, looking at each other with a lost look. "Jake...I... I don't know what to say" she was very emotional "You saved me."

He placed a finger on her lips adorned with glitter lip gloss. "Shh, don't say anything. Shall we take a few steps outside?" he offered her his hand, which she took with great energy.

This felt like the dream she'd had during senior year, him dragging her behind the school and kissing her hard and passionately. Maybe they wouldn't kiss, but that was enough for her. Jake's hand was warm and welcoming despite being full of calluses. She walked fast and in Y/N heels she almost struggled, but the sight of his powerful back was the just reward for the effort he was putting her through. The suit he'd worn was a size tighter for Jake's build, but she had a feeling he'd done it on purpose to show off how much he'd grown over the years. Everything was in the right place; every muscle was visible even through the jacket and the woman's mouth watered imagining him as naked as his mom had made him.

The evening air was cold, but not icy, and caressed her bare shoulders making her shiver at the contact. He kept walking but had slowed down, probably admiring the full moon high in the California sky. "That moon is magnificent but not as magnificent as you, Y/N," Jake turned around.

If she had been ice cream, the woman would have melted in that instant. "Jake, come on, stop it," she giggled, giving him a light slap on his chest. Hard as marble.

"How can I stop when you're standing here in front of me?" Jake approached her at a slow pace until he entered her living space. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, you know that?" he asked her. She hoped it was a rhetorical question because she didn't have an answer.

By now his lips were closer than ever, their breaths mingling and their hands reaching for each other in a silent game. He was much taller than she was and to fully reach her height, Jake was almost breaking his neck. But none of them cared because the emotions they were feeling were stronger than anything else in the world. They were almost there, Y/N could feel his lips practically on hers, but... "Can you still do the Dirty Dancing hold? The one Johnny and Frances did?"

"Huh?" she was already imagining herself underneath him together in bed.

"The Dirty Dancing hold, come on let's do it" he hopped in place. He was like a Labrador puppy. Y/N was more confused than ever. He pulled away suddenly and then looked at her with half-lidded eyes. "Come on, no one puts Baby in a corner."

How had they gone from almost kissing to doing the Dirty Dancing hold? Yet another unanswered question. But it was Jake Wyler, and although twenty-five years had passed, what Jake Wyler wanted was law. Especially for Y/N, who was still completely mesmerized by what had happened moments before. She nodded and took a few steps back, getting the proper distance from Jake to grant his request right away and take action. She didn't feel ridiculous, not that she was, because it was certainly something she had thought about in the prime of her teenage years. So, all of this was nothing more than life as she had always dreamed it. In fact, she still wasn't entirely sure she wasn't dreaming.

She shook her head to stop thinking and did a few seconds of stretching to keep from freezing later. It wasn't too hard, she'd done it hundreds of times in her cheerleading career, but it had been years and she didn't know if she was in the right shape to do it. It didn't matter. The time had come. The notes of "(I've Had) The Time of My Life" echoed in her head and she smiled at Jake. He nodded and took off his jacket. The shirt was even tighter than she had imagined. She was thankful that he was a personal trainer for a living and took a running start.

She hovered in the air seconds later, Jake's hands holding her firmly by the hips and spinning her around. She lost a shoe but didn't notice. Her arms were wide open and the breeze hit her face. She thought she had never been happier than at that moment. When he put her feet on the ground, he stared at her with a new light in his eyes.

"You're amazing," he smiled at her. Y/N's heart pounded. "You're what I've always wanted."

"You too, Jake."

He continued to stare at her and then, in one swift motion, wrapped his arm around her lower back and leaned her back in a dance step. Y/N was breathless. Jake's lips finally met hers and the rest was history.

[optimistic-dinosaur-nacho]

My Patriot

*Gif not mine

Chris Evans x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: Slight injury, One curse word Summary: Your high school was able to allow girl’s to join football. Being around a football fan who happens to be your dad, he taught you the ropes in your freshman year, you made it to the Varsity squad your Sophomore year and your last game turned out to be a disaster at first but you made it a win.

A/N: I’ve wanted to join football after being in marching band and hearing from my guy friends (football players) who offered me to join. But I think I rather play in a band than be a low-life football player. Basketball is better along with baseball. Marching band may not be a sport to some but it is to me.

Amazing dividers by @whimsicalrogers​ I guess I lost the fan for 49ers and Raiders, I became a Patriot. 

Senior year was one of the most stressful and overwhelming. The season was at its end and it was gonna be one of your last games before you take on your wrestling season in February. This last game was gonna be one of the most powerful games of all. The last ones should always make it worth. Show that the Boston Reds were no match for the Spartans. 

You took football since you were a freshman.

One of the worst decisions you made but you’ve learned to become the first quarterback as a girl. A woman if you might add. Living in a family who were into football, you were the only oldest grandchild in the family. And only one person out of your family approved it. Your dad, Chris Evans.

Your grandma, Lisa didn’t like the idea and almost slapped the back of her son’s head while Scott came to every game with a box of bandages and water. 

Your dad and Scott were part of the football volunteers. They would stand on the sidelines, help your teammates with water, Gatorade, courage and support. Chris wasn’t your coach, no, but he did coach you at home if you needed it. You two on the weekends would go out jogging, try out new healthy foods, always took you to your school and practice some throws out in the field, since they did allow the field to be a public place at some times.

You loved your dad, more than you loved football. There were times where he wasn’t there, but Scott and your aunts were there to record your touchdowns and take downs. 

You had a couple friends on the team, almost half of them were part of the marching band up in the bleachers.

The boys on your team always supported you. Not only because you were practically Captain America’s daughter, they knew you were the best out of all of them. They treated you as an equal. Which was a good feeling to have. You were tall and strong. You weren’t positive this was gonna be a career after you graduate. It was something to do and have for the rest of your life. Something to have fun with.

Chris didn’t expect you to continue this football thing, he knew you would start something better. He was just proud to see you out in the field doing something to prove anyone could do any sport no matter what they looked like. 

School was just about to end and you pulled out your phone after you felt it buzz. A message sent towards you, you opened it and saw the message.

Dad Few minutes away. 

You grinned while shaking your head. He always wanted to be there for your training just after school. You assumed Uncle Scott would be there before your game starts. Your dad was there early to make sure what the team had and didn’t. He was a volunteer anyway.

The bell rung and you stood up, walking over to your locker. Once you got it open, someone pats your back. A random guy who nods at you, “Good luck at the game!” You smiled softly with a nod and reached in to look for your large water bottle. 

You cursed under your breath. You must’ve left it at home. You closed your locker and made your way to the side building where the footballers were gathering up. Everyone wore their jerseys with their numbers. On a game day, every sport player should wear their jerseys through the school day and you had yours on.

Your coach comes in and claps his hands, “All right, everyone. Let’s get out there fast! The other team is coming in few minutes, take the field. Coach Henderson will be separating groups and I want good spirit out there! Let’s go!” Everyone in the room went their own ways, most of them heading to the locker room for their gear. You went to a separate room and got your things on alone. 

Even for a girl, you couldn’t get ready in the boys locker room, of course. You slipped on your shoulder gear and slipped your jersey on over it. Your skin tight pants with pads over your knees, your cleats on real tight. You put your phone in the locker and closed it, taking your helmet and rushed out to the field. 

“All right ladies! Let’s line up.”

You rushed around the corner and almost bumped into someone, they shout, “Woah. Easy there, hey!” Your dad says with a grin, your eyes widen and you let out a laugh. “Sorry. I didn’t see you.” Your dad takes your helmet by the bars of your facemask and lifts it up to see small strands fall over your face. He grins, “Maybe put on your helmet after you get to the sidelines.” 

You smiled and saw in his hand that he had your water bottle. “You found it!” You said, Chris lifts it up and nods. “That’s not the only reason why I came.” You furrowed your brows, “I thought you had a flight to Los Angeles?”

Chris lifted up his shoulders, “I can’t miss a final game in your lifetime, now could I? Besides even if you did NFL, your grandma would be pulling at our ears.” You smiled and took the bottle from his hand, giving him a large hug as he lets out a huff. He lightly chuckles and hugs you back just as tight. He shakes you a little, “Now, go out there and practice. I’ll be around, Scott will be around before the game. I love you.”

You pulled away and slipped on your helmet, “I love you too.”

Your coach called you in and you made your way over. With a nod of approval, you took that and followed your team onto the field. Warming up your shoulders, tossing your throws and kicks. Chris stood on the sideline, arms crossed as he chatted with your coach. You stretched your legs and slammed into a couple of your teammates to get yourself warmed up for this last game.

The families began to stack the whole bleachers, people with balloons, you knew your whole family will be here. Especially for your last game as a senior. They would start introducing the seniors. Half of your team were seniors and they were really supportive of you.

You thought they just liked your dad around. You saw what looked like your family. Lisa, Scott, and the sisters along with your cousins. They were waving at you from the bottom of the bleachers. You look over to Chris who waves you over from the sidelines and you rushed over to him and walked over to the fam.

“Hey! Sweetheart!” You smile big and hugged Lisa first, who gave you large kisses on your head. You hugged your two aunts, Shanna and Carly, your cousins Ethan, Stella and Miles. They started to admire your gear while Stella held onto you like a koala, ‘cause she loved you. Being her only girl cousin, you always did dolls and makeup while you did football and tag with the boys.

You started to hear the marching band play and you turn around. Chris nods, “You’re up, #4.” You grin and slipped on your helmet while the family waited. Usually on Senior games, they’d always read off what these seniors wrote for their last year and the family follows them down the row with balloons and large posters.

After the short time of the marching bands introduction to the field and the national anthem, the band makes a aisle for the senior families to walk down. They let a couple cheerleaders down the aisle, everyone following behind the senior friend. 

They did that for more students till it was your turn.

Your team were very chaotic so they began to cheer your name. “Evans! Evans!” They shout, you couldn’t help but laugh at them. “Now, quarterback on the football team, number 4 on the field. Y/N Evans.” You feel a couple of your team chant your name as you walked down the aisle with your dad by your side. The man on the speakers began to read your last words for your senior year and you were just lucky to be here.

After they represented every senior, the game was starting. You felt like your dad in Not Another Teen Movie, Jake Wyler, quarterback asshole jock. It was a hilarious movie. Chris stood by the sidelines and watched you stand behind your teammates. 

You hear your teammate yell hut and you run forward to catch the ball i your hand. Guarding it in your arm, you head to the right. Then you feel a harsh jab to your back. The referee blows his whistle and you stand up. Okay, you knew some were quick. 

Your teammate helps you up and you glance across the field, watching your dad give you a thumbs up while shouting, “You okay?” You replied with a pair of thumbs up and he gives you a nod. The team sets up by the yard line where you fell.

The teams began to line up in their positions and you bent your knees. Breathing slowly, you focused on the directions you could go. Maybe throw it to one of your teammates who could be open. “Hut!” You catch the ball and aimed it, your defenders are slamming into the others.

You catch your teammate with his arms open. You imagined him being your dad in your backyard. With a large throw, the ball darts towards your teammate and he catches it smoothly before charging for the end of the field. You see him reach the end and the crowd in the bleachers cheer on. You couldn’t help but grin.

This was gonna be a good game.

Halftime was gone and you were slightly behind the other team. A couple touchdowns, you could make an easy win. A kick to the goal post could do you some good. You were almost close to exhaustion. You hear your coach call you guys in and the referees give you guys two minutes. 

Running over to the coach. He began to explain a plan and you followed every single order. Once he broke the team, your dad hands you your water bottle. “You need to hydrate, sweetheart.”

You grin, lifting up your helmet a bit to pour water into your mouth. You gotten a lot of sips in and slid your helmet back down. The referees call you back in and your team positioned on the field.

You see that the team had slightly larger guys than the last ones. You needed to run pass them. You hear the shout and the ball comes into your hands. Your feet pick up and you took a sharp turn that causes your ankle to lock and you feel someone tackle you to the ground.

A large hit to the ground, your helmet bounces off the ground and you feel the player get off you. You breath in harshly and hear someone say, “Are you okay?” You roll onto your hands and knees, instantly feeling someone’s hands on you. “Hey, hey. Don’t stand up, yet. Take it easy. Honey, are you okay?” You hear your dad ask, you nod your head, not bothering to speak. 

Your arm gets pulled up and Chris helps you onto your feet again. He leans over, “Hey? Look at me? Are you okay?” He asks.

“Yeah. Can I just sit down for a second?” Your dad didn’t refuse or hesitate. He helps you over to the bench and gives your family a thumbs up to know you were okay. He cups your helmet, “Can I take this off? It’ll help you breath better.” You nod and he slips it off your head. Your coach calls in a replacement onto the field and you lowered your head.

You lift your head up, “Coach, I’m sorry, I-” The coach gently shook his head. “It’s okay, Evans. You did good. You rest.” You felt embarrassed, being a woman and falling on the field made everyone lose hope in you. Your dad puts his hand on your shoulder, “Hey. You did good halfway through. I’m proud of you.”

You smiled up at him and watched as the team struggled to push through. No one scored and it just kept going back and forth. The coach calls out the last break. You needed to jump back in. Taking your helmet, you stand up and run over to the team circle.

You lean in, “Coach. Put me back in.” Your coach stared at you in disbelief till Chris jumps up. “No, you need to rest-”

“Please, dad. I know I can do this. I’m okay, now.” Chris looks up to the coach who does as well. Silently the two nod and your coach looks over. “All right. Y/N’s back in position. Stay strong and remember the plans.” The team breaks and you slid on your helmet. Standing in position, you breathed in slowly. You felt the memories come flooding into your head.

“You got this,” You hear your dad’s voice.

The shout breaks your position as you dart for the ball and grab it. You turn to the side and see a player in front of you. You realize he’s going to dive. It felt like slow-motion once he began to dive toward you. Your legs lift up and you hop over him like nothing. The crowd screams as you run for the touchdown yard line. 

Your team runs over and almost tackles you to the ground. They chant your name and your dad runs over. “Yes!” He shouts, too proud of a dad, he takes you off your feet and holds the back of your helmet, laughing uncontrollably. You laugh happily as he takes off your helmet and pulls your head to his chest. 

“I’m so fucking proud of you!” He says, you pull away and your team gives you a large hug. The team ended with a win and you were proud to take step back into the field. And your dad was happy to put your trophy on the fireplace.

Official Taglist:

@jtargaryen18​ @joannaliceevans-fanficblog​ @donutloverxo​ @axen-gers​ @captainchrisbaby​ @patzammit​ @bucksgoat​ @la-cey​ @void-hoechlin​ @lovepeacefood​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ @stop-obsessing-over-those-actors​ @star-spangled-beard-burn​​ @nickysurfer28​ @nbarnes​ @mcntsee​​ @adriannajackson​​ @chuckbass-love​​ @sebbystanlover-vk​​ @onetwo3000​​ @captainamerica-is-bae​​ @cheeseburgersstuff​​ @iguessweallcrazyithinktho​​ @rororo06​​ @elliee1497​​ @navybrat817​​ @waywardodysseys​​ @just-one-ordinary-fangirl​​ @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​​ @this-is-a-chilis-drive-thru​​ @what-is-your-plan-today​​ @princess-evans-addict​

[onsunnyside]

⋆˚♡˳ a little bit "obsessed"

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Jake Wyler x bratty!cheerleader!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | himbo!Jake but he's cute about it, swearing, probably second-hand embarrassment

𝗪/𝗖 | 1.5K

𝗔/𝗡 | there's just something about Jake being all nervous and corny. if you want to be tagged for this series, just send me an ask or comment!

𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫! 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Jake has a(n arguably well-known) crush on you and he’s a little obsessed with you, he’s debated on how to properly “butter you up”.

He tries with words and stops you in the halls to ask about your day, he plays calm and collected. He wishes he could be effortlessly cool around you—like he is with everyone else but you just have an effect on him.

At football games, he’ll be drawn to you when halftime rolls around.

Sometimes he gets distracted by you in your tiny cheer skirt and will nearly be tackled.

One game, it was chilly and most of the crowd were bundled in scarfs and hats. The cheer squad was wearing their uniform pants or skirts and turtlenecks. Before the game started, Jake offered you his varsity jacket in case you got too cold. Most of the team did that with their partners and even though he reassured you it was nothing but a friendly gesture, you knew it was more than that (to him, at least).

"You know, just so you don't get sick."

You cocked your hip, your breath visible in the cool air. "I don't want to smell like you for the rest of the evening. The usual onion stench masked by cheap body spray?" Which was completely untrue, Jake certainly didn't smell bad, quite the opposite. Like rich vanilla and cinnamon, sometimes he smelt like lavender.

Jake's eyes widened. "Do I actually smell?" He lifted the collar of his jersey to his nose, then looked back at you.

Over his shoulder, you could see Jake's little entourage of admirers. Girls and boys, from freshman to seniors, all equally taken by the dark-haired and blue-eyed captain. Heart-eyes, fawning, compliment after compliment, endless praises—they gave Jake everything.

You didn't get jealous over a boy who wasn't yours. You didn't get jealous over a boy who wanted so hopelessly to be yours. So you ignored their stares, some judgemental, others bewildered because who would deny Jake Wyler's varsity jacket?

"—freeze?"

"What?"

"I really wouldn't want you to be cold. I don't think I smell but a lot people can’t smell themselves." Jake blinked slowly, "I've been told I smell good, a lot of people like my cologne. Does... Does it smell bad to you?" He pouted. Clad in his football gear, helmet in one hand and dark eyebrows drawn together. "I'll get a new one if you don't like this one."

You wanted to laugh but covered your mouth with your hand.

"Not only because you don't like this one! I'm not, I'm not that desperate." He chuckled nervously. "But, hypothetically, would you rather me change my cologne?"

"No!" A small shout came from his group of admirers. "Don't, please!" Another added.

You took one step closer, a smirk on your glossy lips. "They say no."

"But what do you say?" Jake's voice lowered, having you this close, he could count every glitter on your cheeks.

You were tempted to give him a shrug, but instead, you played nice. "Well, hypothetically, I've grown fond of your cologne. And, it would break my little heart if you changed it, hypothetically, of course."

Shit, that itty bitty hint of a flirt, Jake could have jumped up in glee (he actually did, his right foot did a little kick and he'd hate himself later for it but it made you giggle). Then, his coach blew the whistle and he had to return to the locker room.

"Wear it if you get cold, please?" Was his final request before following his fellow teammates, shoulder pads making him look even broader.

He gave you once last glance, you could see it in his face; how desperately he wanted you to wear his jacket.

A while later when he looked over mid-game, he froze like a deer in headlights—you were sitting on the bench with his varsity jacket zipped up to your chin.

That moment he was actually bodychecked so hard he had to sit out for the rest of the game. Jake seized the opportunity to talk to you, flirting his ass off and messing up plenty of times because why the hell does your smile make him weak? until the timer hit zero and the team won. That was the day he finally got your number.

You've though about it; did you make a mistake giving your number to the guy who was in-love with you?

Maybe not. But also maybe yes. You were indecisive about that.

Jake texts you often, sending cute messages about how pretty you looked at school, how good your presentation was in class, how you 'stole the show' at the football game during halftime, to which you reply with “I know”. Honestly he shouldn’t have expected anything else.

Sometimes you leave him on read, but Jake pays it no mind. One time you texted him first, it was about homework, but still, he counts that as a win.

Some mornings, he’ll meet you at your locker with breakfast and an adorable smile.

His friends joked about his obsession when he started meeting you after every class to walk you to your next. Even holding you bag and books while you sipped on your iced coffee or reapplied your lipgloss. When your friends stop to talk to you in halls, he stands there and waits patiently for you to be done. He also pretends that he doesn’t see the suggestive looks your friends give you.

He’ll text you asking where you are or what class you’re in, and he’ll meet you as soon as the bell rings and walk you to your next class. People always want to talk to Jake, but he'll wave them off for you every time, "I'd pick you over any of them any day" he once said with the reddest cheeks ever. Chatting you up usually starts with him being confident, then he'll shy away and give you the sweetest grin and wave as you walk into your class.

One day he complimented your lipgloss and slyly asked what it tasted like, you proceeded to kiss your fingers and press them to his mouth before walking into class with a cheeky wink.

Jake didn’t even know what to tell his friends when they asked why he looked like a tomato.

When Christmas rolled around, you got a candy gram from him attached to a small note with a corny Christmas pick up line: 'I didn't think I was a snowman, but you just make my heart melt.'

He also got you gift cards for you favourite stores, and a new mirror for your locker since you made an off-hand comment about it being too small. He mentioned taking you to the Christmas Market for the full experience, "Seeing you outside of school?"

"We could get hot chocolate and watch the parade."

"Let me rephrase, seeing you outside of school on purpose?" You tilted your head.

Jake nodded, arms bundled with your books and gifts.

"So, not like when you randomly pop up while I'm out with my friends?" You began taking things from him, replacing your old mirror with the new one. It was the perfect size and in a cute pink sparkly frame. "You have a terrible habit of knowing where I am at all times..." You trailed off, looking at him with a narrowed gaze. "Got something to confess, Jake?"

"Your friend is dating one of my best friends and he invites me out because," I really like you and want to be around you all the time, "I love doing... things."

"Like shopping? Going to ice cream shops, and having spa days?"

Jake's eyes were begging for a way out. So you gave him one, taking your things and giving him your old mirror, not before pressing a kiss on the surface, "Why don't you take that home, sweetheart, a little piece of me since you want me around so much."

Only then does he realize he said that aloud.

Valentine’s Day is a considerably more cheesy. He meets you in the morning with a bright smile and sparkling eyes, giving you a box of chocolates, a red heart shaped balloon and a single rose. You thought he would’ve stopped at that because in the middle of his "I like-like you" confession, he was interrupted by a student walking who groaned about how everyone already knew about his crush.

He didn’t think he was that transparent but then again, the yearbook committee asked about adding: - has a giant crush on Y/F/N Y/L/N. to his biography in the football segment (and he may have said yes but he’ll absolutely deny it).

You received two more roses during first period, then he met you before second period to give you three more. That was how the whole day went, and eventually you were struggling to hold 45 roses when the bell rang. You were stunned to see Jake standing outside your class with ten more roses.

You thought about telling him that it was too much, maybe blow a bubble with your gum and pop it in his face. Be a brat to try and get him to step back but that’s never worked before, so why would it work now when he’s looking at you all loved up?

Instead, you thank him with a simple caress of his cheek and leave the school, throwing the roses in the backseat of your convertible, hoping they’d fly away as you sped home. And they did, all except one that you deemed worthy of keeping.

𝗝𝗮𝘄𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿! 𝗧𝗮𝗴𝘀 | @bookwormchick91

[onsunnyside]

⋆˚♡˳ Jake has a crush

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Jake Wyler x bratty!cheerleader!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | Jake being an idiot (believe me, he has no filter), swearing, stereotypical college party setting, drinking, probably second-hand embarrassment

𝗪/𝗖 | 2K

𝗔/𝗡 | this is my first reader insert story and basically the first writing I've ever posted on Tumblr. I'm super nervous but also really excited to write this cute au but this isn't fully proofread!

𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫! 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

A collective groan follows Jake's dreamy sigh. Then, he abruptly sits up straighter and dusts the shoulders of his varsity jacket, his eyes glued on your sauntering figure as you pass his lunch table. Not even a mere glance in his direction.

"Who spilt water—oh, it's just Jake's drool again." One of his friends says loudly, the rest of them laughing. Once they settle down again, they wait for Jake's signature oh shut up, Austin! But he's still staring at you two tables over.

Your legs are crossed as you intently listen to your friends. You take bites of your lunch and sips of your milkshake, your glossy lips wrapping around the straw as your cheeks hollow.

"I heard Priscilla is back in town."

Again, Jake doesn't move an inch. They assumed the mention of his ex would snap him out of whatever trance you have him under and well, they assumed wrong.

Jake's chin is propped on his hand as he admires the blue, red and white fabric on your body. Small, short, pretty, tight; Jake should probably be ashamed over how many times he's gotten red-cheeked from glimpses of the little shorts underneath the skirt.

Of course, his attraction to you isn't only stemmed from appearance, he isn't that shallow. Sometimes anyway.

You're on the spoiled side; blabbering about how your daddy cut you off for the rest of the week after going over your limit again, then gushing about how you pouted and sulked all day until he felt guilty and let you throw a party at your family's lake house because according to you, "my daddy has a soft spot for his little girl."

Jake still remembers the party to this day. Oddly enough, it was just before his crush for you was cemented.

It was a hot summer night at the end of your sophomore year. Your family's lake house was big enough for most of your year and their plus-ones from the next school over.

He's a little tipsy, but with unwavering hands, sinks the white ball into the last solo cup at the end of the table. Over the blaring music, the crowd erupts in cheers as he throws his hands up, soaking in the praise and flipping off his opponents.

"Pay up, Carter! And none of this, I forgot my wallet crap again."

"Here." Carter tosses the bills at Jake's feet, "I was just warming up!"

"Alright, and George didn't sleep with your sister last week. If we're done lying, let's raise the stakes."

Carter's head snaps to their other friend, the tall blond failing to hide behind a pillar.

Jake blinks, a shocked but amused smile on his lips. "Whoops."

"George, you dick! I'm gonna beat your ass!" The blond takes off through one of the wide-open doors with Carter hot on his tail.

"Well, anyone else up for the challenge?" Another friend of his probes, pointing to random people in the crowd. "You? How about you?"

Sitting on the table, Jake counts through his earnings from tonight. $190, $200, $210... (if Carter didn't kill him,) he'll dare George to do something stupid. Like streaking down the boardwalk or jumping off the roof and into the pool.

Like most people at school, Jake was loaded—correction, his family was loaded and he was their asshole trust-funded son. He's not as spoiled as some of his peers, some prim and proper while others were so wildly insane that they would be in jail if it weren't for their parents' deep pockets.

"Snookums, just a little kiss!"

"Ugh, get your dry lips away from me, creep!"

The commotion is loud enough to catch his attention. Over everyone's heads, he can see you shoving a boy hard enough that he stumbles backward and topples over the back of a couch.

"And take a fucking shower, you pig!"

The music is still playing, the party is still alive but all he can focus on is you. You're fuming, you're fucking pissed but you're so pretty. God, how are you so pretty and terrifying at the same time?

Your eyeshadow glimmering like the stars and your lips as sparkly as the jewels on Jake's mother's wedding gown. Your hair is styled perfectly and compliments your matching diamond earrings, rings and necklace. And your figure clad in a pale blush satin mini dress that ends just under your ass, it's backless, the straps crisscrossing down your spine.

Did time stop? Because it sure feels like it.

Jake is so caught up in you that he doesn't notice the boy climbing over the couch with his arm stretched in your direction. He quickly stuffs the cash in his pocket, bills falling to the floor as he rushes to your rescue.

Except you don't need a hero, or him, or anyone for the matter. You yank the boy's arm and bring up your knee to slam into his nose. One yelp and a nasty crunch later, the creep is thrown out the front door by other bystanders.

It must've been the alcohol because Jake's feet don't stop when they should’ve and he tackles you straight into the couch, the both of you falling over the back and bouncing on the plush cushions.

"What the hell! Get off me, scumbag!" Your ringed fists strike him and nearly get him in the eye.

He's sure you didn't know who he was before this moment.

"I'm so sorry—" Jake is starstruck once again. Being this close to you, your breath fanning over his heated cheeks and your eyes glaring at him so hard that he'd probably combust if he wasn't interrupted.

"Ex-fucking-cuse me!"

Jake is yanked off by the back of his shirt and wobbles on his two feet. You sit up, fixing your dress as your narrow gaze falls on the blonde in the fuzzy white dress.

"You little bitch!" Priscilla screeches, "I move schools and you think you could fuck my boyfriend? Ugh, I always knew you were in-love with Jake!"

"I didn't even know he existed until today!"

"Ouch." Jake doesn't know if he said that or it was the small audience watching the dramatic exchange.

"Your boyfriend jumped me, maybe blame his empty skull instead of me."

Jake pouted, still a little dazed and ultimately drunk on you more than the spiked punch, "Hey, I'm not her boyfriend. I wanna be your boyfriend."

You and Priscilla turn to him with opposite expressions. Yours is shocked with a small quirk in your lips and Priscilla has steam blowing from her ears. The blonde offendedly gasps and storms out the front door, the glass nearly shattering as it bangs shut.

You're staring at him, mouth opening a closing. "Who are you?"

He stupidly points to himself. “Me?”

You roll your eyes. "You’re lucky you aren’t ugly.” Jake perks up, but you continue, “but you are a brainless cheater who just attacks girls at parties. Get the fuck out of my house."

"What? No, wait!" He reaches to grab your hand but you slip to the side, stomping on his foot with your heel. He cries out, falling on his ass.

"Touch me again, and I'll feed you to my dogs."

He was confirmed of his crush on you the next day when he found out that you broke that creep’s nose.

"I honestly have no clue how you're in love with her after that shitshow last summer."

"Just look at her,"

"I am," Carter nods, "How could you not?" Austin mutters.

"She's so..." Jake sighs dreamily for the millionth time that day, "Wow.”

"Does she even know you?"

"Of course she knows me. We had the first game of the season last week. We were literally on the field together."

Austin laughs. "Yeah, along with the whole football team, coaches and the cheer squad, you act like there was a spotlight on the two of you when she never went near you."

Jake throws a fry at Austin, "She's the girl, I'm the guy, there isn't a chance that she doesn't know me. We're destined to be together, I'm positive."

"I think she's scared because all he does is stare at her all day." George ponders, "Poor girl, can't even drink her chocolate milkshake without being studied."

"It's actually a strawberry milkshake today, she had chocolate on Monday."

"Oh god, you're so fucking weird."

Jake frowns, "She knows who I am, watch." He stands, running a hand through his hair as he struts towards your table. He comes close enough that your friends stop talking and their gazes lock on him.

Clearing his throat, he plays it cool even though he's actually freaking out on the inside. He's close enough that he can smell your perfume.

He calls your name, “Hey! I was just wondering if you knew the homework for Mr. Chen's class? I have... the worst memory." Jake charmingly smiles, leaning on the table.

It's quiet for a beat, your friends looking between you and him with curiosity.

You tilt your head, eyelashes blinking at him. "We didn’t have any..."

Jake chuckles, feeling like a nervous little boy again. "Oh, of course. Save the trees!" He wishes he could shut up, but he can't. "You know, paper, trees—less homework means less paper, which means more trees. Not that I don't care about homework, I love homework, well not love-love. I care about it but I—”

"Are you done?" You ask, your glossed lips puckered as you sip your milkshake.

"No, I'm Jake."

He could hear the groans from his friends behind him and it only worsens the sickness in his stomach.

A few of your friends giggle, whether it's out of pity or at his stupid joke, Jake wishes he just sat on his ass at his table.

You wrinkle your nose, nodding slowly, "I know that."

Jake beams, "You do?"

"Duh, your girlfriend almost broke my door last summer."

"Ex, ex-girlfriend." Jake corrects, feeling hopeful by the second. He was right that you did know him, he wishes it was for a different reason but bottom line, he was right and he could rub it in his friends' faces now.

"Congrats, she was a bitch."

You say it so bluntly that your friends can't help but choke on their food, one of them excusing herself and leaving, her loud cackles following her out the cafeteria.

"Yeah, she cheated on me with some guy at her new school."

"You deserve that."

Jake's eyes widen, "What?"

"You attacked me that night, don't think I forgot."

"Oh, right..." Jake awkwardly scratches his chin, "You see, I was actually trying fight that creep who was annoying you. I was going to save you. Be your knight in jeans and a white t-shirt."

You narrow your gaze, biting your lip. "I didn't need your help."

He nods quickly. "You broke that dude's nose. With your knee—you've got wild knees! Not wild like out of control, I see them right there and they look pretty tame. I mean, fuck, you know what? I'm gonna go. Um, happy eating, ladies." Jake spins and speedily walks away.

"What a poet." One of your friends, Quinn murmurs.

Lena giggles into her hand. "Girl, give him a break."

"I didn't do anything!"

"Exactly! You're letting him embarrass himself—and with how much he did in that conversation, you need to be charged."

"Give him a little laugh, even one of those fake ones. Literally anything to calm his nerves."

"You're playing him, right? I think everyone on Earth is aware of his crush on you."

You hum. “It's kind of hard to ignore him when he looks like that, and I'm not really mad about the party either." You continue eating your lunch and wipe your mouth with a napkin.

Frances nudges your arm, "And you couldn't tell him that? I thought he was going to vomit."

You can't help the grin from growing on your face, you peek over your shoulder at his table. His friends are all talking at the same time, some patting his back, others poking fun. Jake has his eyes closed, dark hair messy from him undoubtedly running his hands through it.

"But, isn’t he cute when he's dumb?"

[onsunnyside]

Can I request a Drabble of jake and reader getting hot and heavy and her leaving him all bothered? 😮‍💨😂

College!football player!jake wyler x college!cheerleader!Reader:

You bite his lip, breathing heavily into his mouth as his hands slowly move your hips. Pressing you firmly on his lap with a groan. “C’mon, just a little bit? You won’t even feel me—”

You pull away and burst into laughter, bracing yourself on his shoulders as your eyes water. “I never—wow, Jake… way to expose yourself.”

“That’s not what I meant, you know it.” He pouts, huffing in irritation as you keep giggling, mocking his little ‘confession.’ “You’ve seen it before, you know it’s not small.”

“Have I? I don’t remember, I tend to forget little things…” You pat his cheek.

He turns his face, kissing your palm noisily. “Yeah, yeah, tease me all you want. We both know you’re only like this because—”

“Because I have an attitude problem?”

“Because you haven’t been fucked.” He says it so bluntly, with a dark eyebrow quirked. He smirks when you don’t answer, “isn’t that right, sugar?” His big hands grip your waist again as he slumps on the couch, grinding your centre over the bulge in his pants.

He’s a little surprised when you kiss him again. Half-expecting you to shove him off and do that thing where you play uninterested, just like you did in high school. At least now, the both of you are dating officially, so it didn’t hurt. It was just a little chase, you liked being the mouse and Jake liked the banter. He also liked teaching you a little lesson every now and then.

Your mouths move over each other, his tongue slipping between your lips as his hand trails up your cheer skirt, barely touching your upper thighs. He growls as your palm presses against the tent in his jeans, offering that sweet relief he hasn’t had in days.

Still making out, you fumble with his buckle and zipper, dipping your hand under his boxers before gripping his cock. His lips kiss down your jaw to your neck, his eyes shut in bliss as your warmth wraps around his throbbing length.

A loud knock on the door disrupts the tension—and just like that, you’re standing up and fixing your skirt. He watches with a heaving chest as your lick the little bit of cum from your fingers, throwing him a cheeky wink.

“Girl, let’s go! Practice starts in five!” The knocks get harder.

“Well, I’ll see you on the field, baby,” swiftly picking up your duffle bag, you head to the door, barely giving him time to conceal himself as it swings open.

Your friend stands there, dressed in her uniform with glitter on her face. She looks between the two of you, before slapping your shoulder. “You, bitch. How is he going to play with a boner?”

You giggle, shrugging. “He’ll figure it out. He’s had tougher challenges. I mean, he got me, right?”

[onsunnyside]

「 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐖𝐘𝐋𝐄𝐑 」

𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 — Do not plagiarize, copy, repost/republish , adapt or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third party sites. My blog is 18+, so minors DNI. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel, etc.). All my works are fiction and may be dark or have triggering content: read all warnings before proceeding.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: All my main characters are of legal age and their descriptions are vague to be inclusive to all! - unless specified.

☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ | @onsunnysidelibrary | 𝐀𝐎𝟑

【 fluff, smut, angst, dark, (c)ompleted, request 】

𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫!; collection ⤜ f, s

✧࿐ He’s the guy and you’re the girl of town—in his (and everyone else’s) mind, it only makes sense that you two start dating but around you, Jake gets a little stupid… [college au, lovesick!Jake Wyler x bratty!cheerleader!reader]

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬: 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐬 & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐬/𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[onsunnyside]

Question: fic your ever read here and first fic you wrote?

I don’t know the very first fic but all I can think of are series, in particular, Who Am I? By @sherrybaby14

The first fic I wrote on here is jawbreaker! My jake wyler au

Anon hour !!