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daydreaming-in-letters · 2 years

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The Banana Club Auditions

Audition 2: Steve "Captain America" Rogers

04/28/2022

Pairing: stripper!Steve Rogers x strip club owner!reader (2nd person)

Word Count: 3,479

Warnings: virgin!Steve, unprotected sex, language

Summary: Money is awfully tight ever since Steve Rogers has left the army. Luckily, his friend Bucky knows a place where people will appreciate his talents.

A/N: Here we go again. This is especially for you, @ashesofblackroses.

Picture by Martin Führer via Twitter

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

Audition song: Like it by Bandits

You had been very reluctant to meet this applicant after everything Bucky had told you about him. His personality, which had been described to you as shy but very sweet, didn’t really seem ideal for this kind of business, but if your left hand recommended him, he couldn’t be a total misfit. So you had suggested he could stop by on a busy night to take a look at the club first.

It wasn’t unusual that men decided to visit your club and enjoy the display of premium beef as well, but you recognised him immediately when he stepped through the door. It was probably a little unfortunate from his point of view to enter the establishment right in the middle of Jake Wyler’s famous banana split number and you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling as you watched his forehead crease.

Bucky had been right, he was cute, and he had potential. Especially his Dorito shaped chest would surely make the ladies go wild and you could already see him rip that tight white Henley he was wearing from his body. No, probably too bold for a shy fellow like him. Maybe someday, when his confidence had grown a little, but for the beginning something sensual would fit him better.

Your inspection from afar must have caught his attention because he turned and his cerulean eyes found yours. Shy or not, he certainly had balls, you thought, as he refused to look away while you made your way over to him.

“Steve? Steve Rogers?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Firm handshake. Promising. “I’m here for the…um…audition.”

He was trying so hard to keep his voice steady, but the slight twitch of his full lips gave him away. And when you shot him a cheeky smile, his face lit up in an enticing shade of pink. This was going to be fun.

“Why don’t we go somewhere more private?”

You led him into one of the cozy lounges that were usually reserved for private dances and as the heavy velvet curtain fell closed behind you, the blaring music and high-pitched cheers stayed outside. Steve just stood there, a little lost, reminding you of a deer caught in the headlights. He needed to relax, otherwise this audition would be over before it had even begun.

“Please, have a seat.” You gestured towards the black sofa while you pulled a simple wooden chair from the corner and sat opposite him. “So, Steve, Bucky already told me a little about you. You’ve never worked as a male entertainer before, have you?”

“No, ma’am.” His fingers began to fiddle, his shoulders tightening. “Does that disqualify me already?”

You granted him a soft smile and even before you spoke, most of the tension subsided. “Not necessarily, no.” He managed to return your smile, and the way he looked at you from underneath his extraordinarily long lashes made your walls clench in the most delicious fashion for a moment. “It’s not ideal though. You will need to convince me that you’re really up for this.”

His eyes went wide when he saw his chances dwindle. “I am. I absolutely am. Please, I really need this job.”

Bucky had already implied as much. From what you understood, they had both been serving in the army together, but seeing the latest developments in the world, they had begun to ask themselves whether they were still fighting for the right cause. After quitting, it had been hard to find a job that brought enough money. That’s when Bucky had decided to join your squad and now it seemed as if he had finally convinced his best friend to give it a try as well.

“Would you be up for giving me an impression of your performing skills?"

His Adam’s apple bobbed hard on his strong neck as he averted his gaze to weigh your request in his mind and when his eyes found yours again, something had changed. Slowly he stood, holding out his large hand to you. Your lips spread into a wide grin as you understood and let him manoeuvre you onto the sofa that still held his warmth.

“May I provide some music?” you asked while he put the chair back into the corner.

“You’re the boss,” he answered, a crooked smile playing on his pretty lips. He was too cute for his own good.

Soon, the first beats of the song wafted through the small room. He positioned himself right in front of you, his body looking even more impressive from this angle. You couldn’t wait for him to begin. The first sway of his hips was almost imperceptible, but with every passing second he grew more confident. You forced down a smile when you noticed some of Bucky’s signature movements in his performance. He had taught him well, even if it needed a little more practice, but they just weren’t him.

But as soon as his hands found the hem of his Henley, you brushed that thought aside. Biting the inside of your cheek, you watched as he pulled it up above his head and revealed his sculpted chest in one go. Too fast, way too fast, and a bit clumsy, but a few sessions with The Teacher would surely fix that.

Still, his physique held a magic of its own and you couldn’t deny the electricity pulsing through your core as you watched the waves of his stomach roll in the dim light. He was so eager to please, that little soldier boy, but he was too focused on impressing you to keep his performance smooth when it came to baring the lower half of his body. It took him quite a while until he had shimmied out of his jeans and stood before you in nothing but his briefs, and as promisingly as it had started, your pussy was almost as dry as the Sahara after watching his awkward fidgeting.

With a tap of your finger, the music died away and Steve stilled. Instinctively his hands shielded his crotch from view and you knew that his confidence had withered away with the music.

“I blew it, didn’t I?” His teeth sank down into his lip adorably, reviving your lifeless nether regions instantly.

“Come closer.”

Without the slightest hint of hesitation, he obeyed your will, goosebumps decorating his whole body as you touched his arms to turn him around. There it was, you thought triumphantly. The lines of red and white had not just been a mere illusion, coaxed from your delusional mind when he had pushed the jeans down to reveal the two perfectly rounded globes that were now mere inches from your face.

“What’s that?”

His head turned to find out what you were asking about and you had never seen the colour drain from a face this fast.

“Nothing.” Steve was quick to cover his left cheek with his massive hand.

“If you want to work for me, Steve, you will have to show your behind to more than just this one pair of eyes.”

An audible gulp reached your ears, but then his hand fell to his side again. You were already reaching out, when you thought better of it.

“May I?”

His lips parted for an answer, but in the end all he could muster was a silent nod. You might have just imagined it, the tiny whimper that left his mouth as your fingers dove underneath the white cotton, gliding along his velvety skin until they secured the fabric in place between his cheeks. Before you the star spangled banner was waving proudly on the defined muscle, twitching a little as your fingers examined it carefully.

“That must have hurt an awful lot.”

Steve shrugged. “A bet is a bet.”

“Did you at least get back at Barnes for this?” You looked up at his confused face, a mischievous smile decorating your lips.

“How did you…?” He sighed. “That’s not how a bet works.”

“Isn’t it? What a shame.” You pulled the cotton back into place before you sank against the backrest of the sofa once again. “I would have known the perfect way for a payback.”

“Oh?” Steve turned and he seemed to have forgotten his chasteness for a moment, his huge bulge on display, unconcealed, right before you.

Pushing yourself to the edge of the sofa, you were so close to him now that he would feel your breath rolling over his bare skin. It wouldn’t have taken much to close the gap and let your mouth explore his toned stomach, taste him, devour him. But you had other plans for him.

In slow motion you stood, your clothes and a few neglectable molecules of air now the only barrier between you and him, and it had never been harder to keep your composure than the exact moment you felt his breath hitch in his throat.

“Tell me, Steve, and be honest. You want me, don’t you? I’ve seen that look in a man’s eyes before.” And there it was again, the undeniable blush in his cheeks, soft rose turning into deep pink. Careful not to touch him, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes, your lips now dangerously close as your words found his ear in a whisper, “I’ve seen it in Bucky’s eyes as well. And yet he never even got close to what I’m offering you now, Stevie.”

You hadn’t expected him to agree right away. He wasn’t that kind of guy. But his growing reserve irritated you. Should you have misread the signs so completely?

“Shame.” You stepped around him, giving him some space and putting him out of his misery. “You’re hired anyway. The ladies will go feral when you blush like a virgin for them.”

“No!”

You whipped around. “No? I’m sorry, but I’m a little confused here. You did come here because you want to work for me, right?”

“I did. I do. I want to work for you.”

God, he would surely kill you one day with his adorable puppy demeanour. You only hoped you wouldn’t regret this.

“Great. I see you tomorrow then. Bucky will show you around and tell you how things work here.”

You had already made it to the curtain, the soft velvet brushing against your palm when you heard the dull sound of hurried footsteps on the carpet. Warm fingers wrapped around your wrist, his touch sparking a promising tingle that rushed through your body in waves of white heat.

“Please wait.”

As soon as you turned, his hand set you free. You wished it hadn’t.

“Is there anything else?”

Eyes fixed on the ground, his cheeks took the darkest shade of pink you had seen tonight.

“There…there is actually.”

You hadn’t thought it possible, but his nervous stammering made him even more adorable. So you hadn’t misread the signs at all, and your heart fluttered in excitement as you imagined the delight that lay ahead of you. But he had to pay the price and say it, otherwise you would turn and walk away. Someone else would have to sate your desire then, even though it would be nowhere near the same. And under your expectant gaze, he finally broke.

“I want to take the other offer as well.” Once the words had left his lips, his eyes found yours again, big and shiny. “But not as a payback. I—”

“God, you’re cute,” you shut him up and before he could say anything he might regret tomorrow, your hand found his neatly shaved cheek and pulled him in for a tender kiss. He tasted sweet, just like you had imagined, soft lips moving unhurriedly with yours until you could feel him let go completely and the sonorous sound of his moan echoed through your entire body.

“Will you sit down for me again?” He did, his attentive eyes never leaving you, not even to blink, while he watched you put on the same song again. Your body was already moving to the rhythm as you took your place right in front of him and began to unbutton your blouse. In the past, you had done this a thousand times, but that seemed like a million years ago now when you felt the familiar rush of excitement speed through you, heightened to infinity under his hungry gaze.

The piece of silk clothing hadn’t even joined his garments on the floor, but what you had done so far had been more than enough to leave a visible effect on him. You licked your lips, thighs clenching, your pussy begging for some friction as your eyes followed the prominent outline that strained the white cotton. You knew he was tortured by the same burning need to feel you, all of you, and by the time the last item of red lace hit the ground, you took pity on his poor briefs.

“Your turn,” you ordered and he lifted his hips to bare himself to you completely. “My, my, will you look at that.”

He was gorgeous, if that term had ever applied to a penis. But it was. And it was yours for tonight.

Steve didn’t move as you drew closer, placing each knee on the sofa next to one of his massive thighs. The poor guy was concentrating so hard to avoid looking at all the areas of your body his primal instincts wanted him to ravish that he forgot to breathe.

“Go ahead. Touch me.”

He did, slowly, cautiously, finally releasing that breath with a shiver he had been holding for so long when his fingers made contact with your belly. His touch was innocent and even though he gradually allowed himself to explore your body, it was obvious that he spared all the parts you needed him to caress most. And then it clicked.

Gently you grasped his chin and forced him to look at you.

“Steve, am I the first woman for you?”

He swallowed hard, his beady eyes already giving him away before he managed to affirm your suspicion with a single nod. You leaned down, trying your best to kiss his insecurity away while your hand found his blindly and brought it up to your breast. He moaned into your mouth, his desire so pure and unadulterated it coaxed a sigh from your own lips.

“Do you like that?”

“Yes,” he licked his lips, his voice deep and hoarse. “It’s so soft.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle about the way he marvelled at your chest as if he had just discovered the eighth Wonder of the World. If it was, then his chest surely was the ninth, you mused, as you allowed yourself the same pleasure you granted him. He was built like a god. A virgin god. All that strength combined with such innocence. Irresistible.

Inch by inch, you lowered yourself onto his lap until his impressive member rested perfectly in between your folds. You had almost feared it would be too much too soon when his eyes fell closed and he released a heady groan as your rich juices glazed his cock. In an attempt to bring him back to you, your hands cupped his cheeks.

“Can you feel what you are doing to me, Stevie?”

You pressed your lips to his, tongue gliding along the plush pillows until he finally regained control over his body and opened up to you. You were eager to deepen the kiss, to taste him, to learn him in detail. And so was he, it seemed, pulling you closer, fingers digging into your shoulders to lock you in place.

You used the way he lost himself in your kiss to adjust your hips until you felt him press against your entrance and without a warning, you took him in, your slick allowing you to spear yourself in one swift motion.

He broke away from your lips with a hiss as you enjoyed the way his sheer size filled you, a perfect fit. There was nothing you wanted more than to move, to feel him glide along your walls, until he would find your favourite spot and brush against it with every roll of your hips. But you forced down the desire to pleasure yourself with his delicious hardness and gave him a moment to compose himself.

Your lips left light kisses all over his neck, allowing you to feel his racing pulse whenever they touched the prominent vein that decorated it. But then his body came to life, his fingers pressing into your behind impatiently.

“Please,” he whined and the neediness in his tone finally granted him your mercy.

Slowly you moved, probing, testing, observing his reactions carefully as to not spoil this for the both of you. For a while, he let you take full control, enjoying the way you steadily rode him, still trying to cope with the overwhelming sensation of a woman wrapped around him. But the second his eyes fell open, you knew he wanted more.

One arm wrapped around your back, he pulled you against his mouth, lips latching onto your nipple without shame. He licked your sensitive bud, sucking, biting, pleasuring you until you gasped for air. As if he had been waiting for this exact moment, it was then that his other hand tightened its grip on your behind to pull you further onto him. You cried out as you could feel him deep inside your stomach, but instead of continuing the sweet torment, he stopped.

“Did I hurt you?”

Pained eyes looked up at you, full of honest concern, and if he wasn’t the newest member of your team, you swore you would have been in great danger of falling for this sweet, sweet boy. Brushing away a stray lock of his golden hair from his forehead, you soothed his anguish with a featherlight kiss.

“No, don’t worry. You’re making me feel so good, Stevie.”

You rolled your hips to get him going again, and he was eager to take over, guiding you up and down his shaft, a little deeper, a little faster, until he had found a rhythm that felt perfect for both of you. Surely, it wouldn’t take long for him to find his release, and you were keen on finding your own with him. So you let your hand glide down your stomach until it vanished in between your bodies. Steve watched you, fascinated by the way you pleasured yourself on top of him and it was the mixture of heavenly pressure on your clit and the feeling of being watched that tightened the knot inside of you faster than ever.

“Steve,” you moaned his name as he grew larger inside you, “come with me.”

You sped up your hips, riding him now for all he was worth while he held you, making sure you wouldn’t fall in the heat of the moment. But then he pulled you down onto him, one last time, and you felt the hot streams of his release fill you while your walls clenched down on him in the rapture of your own high, milking him relentlessly until he had nothing more to give.

As the waves slowly subsided inside of you, you found your arms wrapped around his shoulders, his face buried against your chest. The gruff frenzy of ecstasy dissolved in the peak of your union, his touch held nothing but tenderness as his hands gently eased up and down your back. He shot you a placid smile as his face resurfaced from its luxurious resting spot and you didn’t resist as he pulled you towards him for a kiss that could even sway the most guarded of hearts.

Enough, you thought, pulling your armour back up and with a last kiss to his forehead you stood. Without a word, you gathered your clothes and made your way over to the secret door that lay hidden behind the dark wallpaper in the wall opposite the curtain. But you could feel yourself slow as you imagined the confused puppy look on his face. You couldn’t do this to him.

“You coming?”

You turned, just in time to see the wounded expression give way to irritation and it needed another of your cheeky smiles to chase away the last clouds of doubt. His face was beaming with joy as he followed you, picking up his clothes on the way.

“Where are we going?”

“To take a shower, Captain.”

Halfway through the door, he stopped.

“Captain?”

“Yeah, I thought Captain America might be a good stage name for you.” You grinned, grabbing the side of his behind that had earned him his new title firmly. “America’s Ass would work as well. What do you think?”

He didn’t tell you what he thought. There was no need to, and you couldn’t help but adore little Stevie as his cheeks began to turn pink again.

Audition 3: Napoleon “The Gourmet” Solo

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visbiscuit · 3 years

Text

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.

#wiypt25daysofchrismas #Jake Wyler #Jake Wyler x reader #chris evans #i am sorry chris evans #chris evans x reader #high school reunion #dirty dancing #no one puts baby in a corner #this is cringy #this is very cringy #i am sorry

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jtargaryen18 · 4 years

Text

30 Days of Chris

The Stories

A super fantastic collection of stories about Chris and his characters. I’m just blown away. I never expected this type of response to a humble challenge. Thank you so much! We’re here until June 30th!

There are a variety of themes and story types. Mind the tags and warnings. Please read responsibly.

FICS

Andy Barber

Dirty Game @ozarkthedog

Happy Birthday, Mr. Barber @imanuglywombat

It’s Not Your Fault @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Let Me Take Care of You @donutloverxo

Little Rose @joannaliceevans-fanficblog

Soaked Leather @ozarkthedog

Those Snuggles @omega-nicole (Also Curtis Everett au)

Till Death Do Us Part @star-spangled-beard-burn

Ari Levinson

Tonight I��m Yours @jtargaryen18

Chris Evans

And They’re Always Glad You Came @jennmurawski13

Awful Day @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho

Baby Awe @angrybirdcr

Bananas For You @angrythingstarlight

Good Morning Showers @joannaliceevans-fanficblog

Happy Birthday, Baby @smediumsmeatbae

Hard to Get @jennmurawski13

Hell Hath No Fury @nachtaiwrites

I Want to Be Like You @evansxxx

Imagine Your Wedding @smediumsmeatbae

Magnetism @smediumsmeatbae

Make You Feel My Love @angrybirdcr

Pain of Being in Love @randomsevans

Pain of Being in Love Pt. 2 @randomsevans

Poor Dodger @angrythingstarlight

Practice @angrythingstarlight

Rainy Day @iguessweallcrazyithinktho

Reconcile @stargazingfangirl18

Vacation @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

We Have Lift Off @la-zerpussy

When I Feel I Can’t Go On @smediumsmeatbae

You are the Reason @angrybirdcr

You’re Never Too Old @randomsevans

Colin Shea

Goals @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

The Neighbor from 6A @helenaeisenhower

Curtis Everett

Little Thief @lok1sgrl

To Forget @trillian-anders

Treason Train @threeminutesoflife

Frank Adler

Close @trillian-anders

Hayden (Harvard Hottie)

Bookends @evansweaters

Jake Jensen

Hot Girl Bummer @jtargaryen18

Hot Girl Bummer Pt 2 @jtargaryen18

Too Loose and You’ll Lose It @what-is-your-plan-today @icanfeelastormbrewing

Jake Wyler

Tainted Love @nbarnes

Johnny Storm

Bad Idea @stargazingfangirl18

Fantastic Flamer @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho

Ice Blue Panties @jtargaryen18

Sweet Surprise @stargazingfangirl18

Kyle

Class Fight @nbarnes

Lucas Lee

So A Guy Walks Into a Bar @trillian-anders

Me (Playing it Cool)

We Gotta Watch the Wet Bandits @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Mike Weiss

Love the Way You LIe @donutloverxo

Nick Vaughan

The Look @denisemarieangelina

Paul Diskant

First Day @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Ransom Drysdale

Baby Driver @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho

Criminal @trillian-anders

Guidance @donutloverxo

Remember to Forget Me @angrythingstarlight

You Can’t Be Serious @randomsevans

Robert Pronge “Mr. Freezy”

Cold as Ice @hettie-drysdale

Crazy About You @donutloverxo

Pretty Baby @jtargaryen18

Pretty Baby pt 2 @jtargaryen18

Daddy Can’t Save You Now, Princess @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Steve Rogers

A First Goodbye @whateveriwant

Acceptance @nekoannie-chan

Another Dimension @nekoannie-chan

Another Night In @beetlejuicelover

Another Night In Pt 2 @beetlejuicelover

Birthday Fun @donutloverxo

Blood Roses @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho

Charm-ed @nekoannie-chan

College Sweetheart @star-spangled-beard-burn

The Club @joannaliceevans-fanficblog

Destiny @nekoannie-chan

Down With the Ship @brooklyn-1918

Elevator Dings @americasass91

Esperando @nekoannie-chan

The Fashion Show @denisemarieangelina

Finger Painting @chris-evans-indian-fanfic

Fluffy Alphabet @donutloverxo

The Habit @randomsevans

The Habit pt 2 @randomsevans

His @omega-nicole

Ice Cream Date @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho

I’m a Slave 4 U @ne-gans

June 13th @cevansgirl

Mommy Dearest @donutloverxo

Murder, He Wrote @sophiria

No Good To My Heart, Darlin @omega-nicole

Not a Lady @donutloverxo

Old-Fashioned Man @denisemarieangelina

The One Thing You Can’t See @myoxisbroken

Ready of Not @navybrat817

Regrets @nekoannie-chan

Reunited @stargazingfangirl18

Rose @randomsevans

Ruby Digits @whateveriwant

Shy @nekoannie-chan

Soft @omega-nicole

Special Delivery @chrisevansdaddycap

Stay @omega-nicole

Still His @omega-nicole

Stolen Raindrops @chris-evans-indian-fanfic

Sweet Surprise @suzieqsez

Where You Belong @chuuulip

Wildest Dreams @angrythingstarlight

Words @omega-nicole

Worthy @chris-evans-indian-fanfic

ART

Finger Painting (Moodboard) Fic by @chris-evans-indian-fanfic Art by @donutloverxo

Ice Cream Date (Moodboard) Fic by @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho Art by @donutloverxo

#30DaysofChris2020 #Masterlist #JTargaryen18's June Challenge

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imyourbratzdoll · 2 years

Text

𝒃𝒆𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅

week 1 - day 2 - kinktober - glory hole and corruption/innocence - jock jake wyler x naive reader.

warning - glory hole and corruption/innocence.

kinktober masterlist

18+ only please, the gifs and headers aren’t mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Jake watches the cute little female through the hole in the stall wall as she lathers herself with soap, his cock twitching as his eyes land on her hard nipples and soft plumb breasts, then slowly trailing down to her cute little cunt.

When Jake decided to take a shower after PE, he wasn’t expecting to be greeted with such a beautiful and arousing sight. He groans softly, his cock growing in his football uniform as you slip a hand between your legs and start rubbing your little pussy. Soft moans fall from your innocent lips, not understanding the pleasure but continuing to cause it.

He slowly takes his cock out of his pants, giving his cock a tight squeeze before rubbing his tip and using the pre-cum that leaks out as lube. Jake watches you throw your head back and grind down onto your hand as cute moans fall from your lips, stroking his cock slowly, giving a rough squeeze here and there before a bright idea pops into his head, and a mischievous smile makes way on his face.

He notices another hole, big enough to fit his fat cock through. He sticks it through the hole and hears a gasp before a small voice follows, “what’s that?” the words that leave Y/n’s mouth cause his cock to twitch, and another gasp escapes her, “It’s a lollipop, princess. I noticed you having some trouble cleaning yourself.” Jake watches her shuffle over cautiously before her hand tentatively reaches out and touches the tip of his cock, causing him to let out a slight moan.

“This– this will help?” Her timid voice lets out, softly touching it. Jake’s head lolls back, softly cursing under his breath. “Yes, princess. First, you must make it wet with your mouth before I clean your insides with my special cream.” A small whine escapes her, and a confused huff leaves her lips.

“What’s wrong, princess? Don’t you want my special cream?” Jake’s starting to grow impatient as his cock is hard as a rock and begging for release.

“I– I do, I just… don’t know how.” Jake has to hold himself back from cumming, as that’s possibly the hottest thing he’s ever heard. “It’s okay, princess, just get onto your knees and wrap those plump lips of yours around it.” She gets onto her knees, opening her mouth and wraps her lips around Jake's thick cock, and a moan leaves her, causing Jake to find something to grip on to as the vibrations and feel of her mouth makes him want to lose control.

“Suck, princess. Remember, gotta get this lollipop nice and wet, or your going to be dirty.”

She starts to suck, swirling her tongue around the tip of his cock before sinking down the base, gagging when she reaches the end. Starting to go to town on what she thought was a lollipop, drooling all over it, making a mess on his cock. Drenching it with her saliva, wanting to impress the mystery man. On the other side, Jake is holding on for dear life, moans slip from his lips as his eyes roll to the back of his head, his cock twitching wildly. Trying to hold back from cumming down her throat, wanting to save it for her sweet little cunt as she sucks him off, he reaches down and plays with his heavy balls, squeezing them.

“Oh– oh fuck, princes– oh, baby, it’s wet enough now.” He groans out, feeling like he’s died and gone to heaven. She stops, sitting back on her legs, “did– did I do something wrong?” Jake takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.

“No, princess, it’s time to clean you now and fill you with my special cream. I want you to stand, back facing me and put the lollipop in that cute little hole of yours.” She stands, confused about how that will fit inside of her, only being able to fit a few fingers in before.

Jake watches as she faces her back to him, his eyes landing on her plump ass before watching as she reaches under and grabs her lollipop, rubbing it against her slit. Her eyes roll as his tip hits her little button, and her tongue pokes out as she focuses on putting it inside her cunt. Jake can feel her, desperately wanting this wall to disappear so he can just push her against another and destroy her.

His cock is slowly pushed into her tiny hole, leaking onto him. It’s such a tight squeeze Jake can feel himself close to cumming again. Once he’s bottomed out inside her, he squeezes his eyes shut, and a small whimper leaves her lips as his thick cock stretches her walls.

Jake bites his lip when he feels her walls pulsing around him, squeezing his cock. “N–now what do I do?” her innocence makes him want to fuck it out of her, “just move back and forth, princess.” Slowly he starts to feel her move back and forth. Jake peeks through the hole level with his eyes and watches her tiny form bounce on his thick cock. Eyes trail down her spine and land on her cute pussy, Biting his bottom lip as he watches her small hole try and take all of him.

His cock nearly comes out before she slams herself back. A shattered moan leaves her lips, eyes crossed, tongue poking out as she continues to fuck herself onto Jake’s lollipop.

Jake bites his knuckles. The tightness of her walls is driving him crazy. The soft little moans and whines that leave her lips make him nearly combust, “that’s it, princess. You’re doing so well, and you’ll be so clean.” Jake moans out, watching Y/n fasten her pace and feel her pulse around his cock at his praise. Her little pussy leaks with her juices, his cock hitting the hidden spot inside her. Y/n’s brain goes dumb from this intense pleasure Jake's cock is giving her.

“Fuck, princess. You’re so soft. Keep going. You can take it.” He stammers as she bounces on his cock, “such ah– such a good lollipop– daddy.” The name slips out as she’s deep in pleasure. Jake's eyes widen as his cock twitches wildly, doing his best to thrust into her from his position. “Fuck– fuck, get ready, princess. I’m so close, don’t stop if you want my cream, sweety.” Her pussy clenches around him, feeling a tightening in her stomach and pleasure that cause her toes to curl.

Not stopping, she tries to go faster as the coil snaps, and she lets out a pornographic moan. Her walls clench tightly around Jake’s cock, not letting him go as she cums. Her cream coating him all over, Jake’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he explodes, her sweet little cunt milking him dry. Jake’s cock is so deep inside of her that his cum floods her womb, being too much for her tiny hole. It starts to flow out of her. Y/n feels sensitive and weak as Jake’s cock slips out of her and her knees wobble, sliding to the ground. Her small hand moves to where his cream flows out, scooping some up with two fingers. She brings them up to her mouth and moans.

Jake watches her do this and feels his cock harden again. He swears he could’ve cum again from the sight and the words slipping past her mouth.

“Mmmm tastes like candy, daddy. Can I have more, please?” Y/n continues to scoop up the remaining cum that flows out of her and sucks it off her fingers, growing wetter by the second.

…Let’s just say…. All of her holes were overflowing with his cream.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

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onsunnyside · 3 years

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⋆˚♡˳ 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

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matchamorphosis · 4 years

Text

𝐵𝑈𝑇𝑇𝑂𝑁 𝐸𝑌𝐸𝐷

𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑒, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈.

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 || y/n finds herself twined in the web of addicted fantasy, not knowing she’ll meet again with her crush- well her other crush, she is met with a life gripping warning.

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆 || smut — hint of angst

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 || other!jake wyler × [black//woc]fem!reader

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 || 6.2K

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 || NSFW 18+; oral sex (f + m receiving) reader and Jake are of legal age and starting college, fingering, praise kink, cock warming, fantasy elements, brain washing, mental illness mention.

𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔 || tonight you belong to me by patience and prudence and the coraline soundtrack here ♡

𝒘. 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 || pretty please like, reblog and comment your feedback and follow me if you’d like to see more of my future content! ♡ anyways hope you guys enjoy this my spooky cherubs! ♡♡♡

splitting stars light the night, the whizzing swirls of yellow dancing behind your eyes.

sleepy body shifting on the bed underneath your roseate covers, your eyes open softly to the sound of squeaking mice. the small long legged cream colored creatures with their cheeky squeaks pull you out of your slumber, you smile and giggled in delightful bliss.

throwing your rose printed covers over your lower half you leave the warm comfort of your canopy bed. moving the sheer curtains out of the way your barefooted feet softly clad on the hardwood mahogany flooring. trying your best to keep up with the quick mice and not wake up your parents or fall on the towering staircase. careful hands glide along the polished railing tip toeing after each step.

rushing onto the last few steps once you reach the soft Persian carpet of the hallway you dash into the sitting room. meeting sight of the sad blue boy with the toppled ice cream cone you make your way to the small golden framed door. the fire burning in the brick fireplace is down to crackling coals, you savor the warmth whilst maneuvering your way from the expensive furniture your parents paid heavy dollar to install.

until, you finally kneel down face to face with the door.

the long ancient key in your hands, your fingers secure tightly on the button shaped handle while the other holds onto the dusty charcoal door nob. squeezing your eyes shut, inhaling and exhaling a quick breath and prayer you open the doors. the sparkling wind of harmonized freedom flowy gracefully against your face, your locks of hair flying behind your shoulders.

the very sight of the indigo whirlpool of dazzling blues and whirling purples releases a heavenly sigh from you. trying your best to keep up with the rushing mice who are already on the other side of the door and while you reach the other side you feel a complete magical change. crawling out of the tight space you stand up and meet again with your home, except it isn’t your home.

it’s your other home, your better home.

eyes gliding to the luxurious sitting room, same furniture and carpeting as your real home. except the Victorian painting of the blue boy does not wash with sadness over the loss of his iced treat. the space warm and cozy, not like your real home where every room is uncomfortably cold, damp and infested with crawling centipedes.

a cold house filled with cold people, your parents haven’t made this moving trip any less harder on you. the three of you had to move because of their jobs and because of your mental health, so they say. you think you are normal, perfectly and utterly normal amongst other people your age.

it‘s your parents fault why you didn’t get along with people, why you had to endure a difficult pace trying to meet their high expectations. you know it wasn’t best for you to not take your meds, you hated them though. if you took them before you went to bed as you usually would you’d get so tired. so tired you wouldn’t see the mice who would take you to this heaven.

curious feet stop wandering the living room for the scent of sizzling bacon and rising pancakes fills your nose. the delicious aroma making your stomach growl you tip toe to the kitchen. a bright light streaming into the rest of the dark candlelit house is where your wandering feet take you. entering the kitchens door frame, the marble tile is cold against your barefoot feet but the cold sensation is gone suddenly, replaced by the warm welcome of hot food cooking at the stovetops.

“mother?” your voice softly speaks, hopefully loud enough to catch your other mothers ears as she prepares the waffle batter into the cast iron and vegetable hash on the buttered pan.

your other father sitting at the finely dressed kitchen table, steaming mug of black coffee in his hands and newspaper in the other. he rests the ceramic mug on the white table cloth before meeting his glossy button eyes to yours, a wide grin greeting you.

“my lovely daughter, our y/n has finally come to visit us once again!” he cheers and you smile as your other mother turns around with a cheese grater in hand.

“oh welcome back dear! come here I want you to try something,” her voice sweet and smooth as honey. it was remarkable how she sounds just like your real mother, looks like you real mother.

but she wasn’t your real mother.

in some ways you had to admit that she was better than your real mother. your real mother didn’t give you whatever your heart desired and your real father wasn’t nearly as happy toned and both didn’t take every waking opportunity to optimistically put you down.

walking to her side, she stuffs a juicy strawberry in your mouth and you hum to the sweet ripeness of the red fruit. peering down to the chunk of brie your other mother shaves onto the almost ready hash before popping it into the oven.

“thank you for sharing this lovely brie with us y/n. it’s like you knew what was missing from my pantry and very classy to,” your other mother smiles and your eyes look up to her and smile. hearing your other father chuckle you turn your head to him who is raising his coffee mug to you.

“it seems like our little y/n knows the finer things in life, sooner then later she’ll grasp those finer things. I promise you. now its cheese later it will be wine and much more, you will be savoring in these finer things y/n,” your other father proudly speaks and you can’t help but smile bashfully as you help take the trays of food to the table.

eyeing each and every dish with a watering mouth. “sit down dear and prepare your plate. i’ll be only a minute,” the other mother sparks and you sit down on the chair placing your napkin in your lap.

taking your chine plate with three pancakes and scoop yellow fluffy eggs and colorful fruit salad onto your plate. laughing when you see your other father pile his waffles into a huge sandwich-like tower. sunny side up eggs and sticks of bacon between each thick layer of buttermilk waffle he chuckles along your laugh pouring the vessel of maple syrup onto the tower.

fork in hand you notice how hungry you are as you devour your whole plate and the side reminder that since you were upset with your real parents in the little quarrel the three of you had you haven’t really had dinner with them. you didn’t deny the plates of food and cups of ice tea outside your door, your real parents truly cared for you but you are too stubborn and too wrapped up in this false fantasy to realize it.

the other mother takes her seat on one side of the table but close to you bringing the hot and cheesy melted hash. pouring a generous scoop onto your empty plate and on your other fathers, your eyes drift to her empty plate and you notice she has no intention to eat. however, you don’t think much of it as you eat forkful after forkful of the hash hearing your other parents chat about planting more of the pretty pink carnations and baby blue dahlias you love.

“y/n?” eyes dashing to hers as she calls your name out and you don’t forget the glint of overbearing sweetness in her black button eyes and her pearly whites.

it seems she’s having to hard of a time to say what she really wants.

“yes mother?” you speak, your fingers instantly going to your charm bracelet that was gifted from your real mother on your right wrist. it’s a habit but it it’s only a habit that only triggered itself when you feel anxious.

sure this land was a better version of the real one but that didn’t make you feel any less safe or questioning because your parents have always told you. if something, someone or somewhere seems too perfect, then you need run.

the other mothers eyes go to the trinket, her cold hands grab at your wrist causing you to flinch away a slight. although you steady yourself as she examine it and to your surprise unimpressively laughs.

“oh y/n that Tiffany’s bracelet is all rusted! no one can notice the silver, it seems your real mother hasn’t been taking care of your jewelry like she should. give me that rusty thing and i’ll give you something more suitable,” your hands snatch away from the other mothers grasp.

“no don’t do that!-” her glossy black buttons twitch at that and your heart hitches in your chest.

“I-I mean it’s fine, this bracelet is- it’s very very dear to me, y-you see my real parents gave it me when I turned sixteen and—”

the words of real parents make you flinch and you do not gloss over the sheer of maliciousness in the other mothers buttons. concluding you to shut up and not choke on your words to prove your innocence.

the sound of eerie quiet taking place in the kitchen sets an uncomfortably deadly tone. your other father lifts his eyes from the paper to look at the other mother cautiously. perplexed and distressed to see her drumming her black painted nails on the table.

“i-i’m sorry,” you meekly whisper but you don’t know what you’re apologizing for. you don’t have to apologize to this person, this somewhat sinister supernatural being, because you did nothing wrong.

“it’s alright dear, it seems I stepped on ah- a boundary,” the sound of her voice isn’t sincere and your spine shivers as she continues to tap her long nails on the table which are longer and sharper than you remember.

“well I believe I have a present for you, y/n. you have company arriving in ten minutes!” the other father chirps and your eyes leave the other mothers buttons, meeting the other fathers comforting brown ones.

“company?” you question, you weren’t really sure that there was anybody else in this realm besides your other parents.

“oh yes, I think you’ll love this surprise! we’re a little disappointed you didn’t have us meet him earlier but we understand how you young people love your privacy,” your other mother freely speaks and you scrunch your brows in confusion.

what on earth are they talking about?

“I- I don’t understand, who’s coming here?” you stutter, dropping your fork accidentally on the floor, all on the account of your confusion laced uneasiness.

“see sweetheart, she doesn’t want us meeting the special boy-” your other mother says to your other father and while your other father snaps to attention you perplex on what she could mean.

special boy? who could that be?

yet your other mother turns her attention back to you, “but you have nothing to worry about dear, we are not mad at you for having a boyfriend, it's perfectly fine. so perfectly fine we have arranged you and him on a little date!” your other mother squeals in delight.

did she say boyfriend?

you don’t have a boyfriend. for goodness sakes you just moved to this shabby grey town a month ago. you haven’t made any friends yet and you surely haven’t met anyone on a day to day basis significant enough that you’d form a strong connection with.

your thoughts are interrupted when your other mother gets up from her seat and her empty plate of an untouched bundle of purple grapes. striding to the pantry closet and she opens the door, taking out a long creme box with a glossy red ribbon. the box is huge enough to take up both her arms yet thin at the width that it doesn’t seem that heavy.

walking to you with the clack of her black Prada flats — it still amazes you in the way she walks, her body language and her clothes perfectly resembles your mother, it's almost frightening.

removing your sticky empty plate, the other mother places the box in front of you gently. gently caressing your hair with her nails that seem to row into talons, you don’t know that they’re growing but he can feel the tension as a point grazes you’re scalp.

a shiver courses through you and your other father sits the paper in his hands down and looks up to you with a smile. “go on y/n, look at your surprise,” he smiles and you look to them and place your hands on the ribbon.

the soft material falling apart as you pull on the string. lifting the boxes lid and your eyes are met with thin white pape. hesitant to remove the stuffing your other mother places a hand to your shoulder and you try your best not to flinch.

“go on dear, I know you’ll love it,” she whispers and you gently remove the paper out of the way and your eyes rest on a… a dress?

peeling the rest of the paper apart, the pieces falling to the floor circling your chair you take in the beautiful dress. taking the hems piece in between your thumb and index, feeling the soft silk of the material your eyes move to the corner of the box and notice matching clutch that goes with the dress.

it’s strange that this is the same exact dress you asked your mother to get you for your birthday just a few days ago. when she asked you what dress you wanted for your birthday she had you streaming through the expansive catalogues of Gucci, Chanel and Dior. when you finally saw what caught your eye, the strapless pink silk slip dress she turned the suggestion down immediately.

your real mother wanted something for you that was appropriate for a good girl your age, something to show that you were now a grown women but not to show much on your womanly features. even though time and time again you had explained how you weren’t a little girl anymore and that you were eighteen had your mother scolding you to pick something out besides your desired choice or she’ll be forced to pick your birthday dress for you.

your real mother wanted to fit you in the pretty picture of pristine girlhood so badly she didn’t even know about the faults you have committed behind her back, as well as your real father. they think you are their perfect good daughter who is soft and innocent as the red roses at their windowsills, but they don’t know.

they both don’t know you had your first kiss at a boys house that you promised the event was a religious study. they both don’t know the cigars you lit and smoked with your classmates after school. they both didn’t know the boys you would let into your private dorms when you were away at boarding school. they don’t know that you aren’t the innocent pure daughter they wished to raise and nurture.

looking down at the gown you have been wanting you feel a sense of guilt but the way the silk shined in the kitchen lights and the matching purse and small pump heels that went along with it had you swallowing the shameful feeling. grasping the dresses neckline in your hands and a smile pulls on your lips and you look above to the other mother smiling down at you and your other father returning the grin.

“thank you mother and father, it’s what i have been wanting for some time now, thank you so much,” you hush, darting your eyes to their gleaming buttons.

“we are so happy to hear that dear, but look at the time! he’ll be here any minute now! hurry up to your room and change!” your other mother exerts and your other father nodding along.

“who will be here? can you at least tell me?” you ask and your other mother only smiles at you, but beyond the pearly whites you can see the sharp daggers.

“we don’t have time for that dear but I know for sure you cannot go out on a date in your sleep attire,” your other mother playfully scoffs and you look down to your cotton nightgown.

the spaghetti straps a bit worn out and the cloth a little raggedy than most your lounge wear, you feel your face heating up at the thought of going on a date with a mysterious boy in this rag doll dress. so instead of arguing with your other mother, you instead hug both other parents earning a laugh out of both as you rush upstairs to your room.

who could the mystery boy be?

your thoughts spiral as you open your door, the same pale pinkness inside and out yet the dancing lights of your lantern seem to be alive. the numerous stuff animals talking to one another and when you enter the room they speak delightfully and wish you luck on your date as you get dressed and style your hair.

giddily waving back to them and squeak a hello, your heart thumps loudly in your chest you sit at your vanity nervous as to what the date will uphold. eyes occupying the sight of indigo emperor and orange monarch butterflies that flutter around your room. sitting in quite a bitter state you have come to the realization you have never been on a real date.

the boys in your life seem to manipulate you some ways all mentally and emotionally and even financially that dates weren’t even a picture in the false relationships.

being born into an affluent family did have its perks but the people who tried to use you solely for your money was heartbreaking. leaving your porcelain heart struggling to not combust despite all the jagged cracks.

“dear?” the voice of your other mother breaks you out of your self afflicting silence and you meet her gaze in the mirror. chills running down your spine once your eyes lock to her buttons.

“yes mother?” you say, she takes a few steps closer to you, caressing your cheek.

“he’s here, waiting for you downstairs,” you gulp at that thought, wondering who the boy could be.

“there’s no need to be frightened dear. he already knows you’re beautiful, considers himself very lucky to be your date,” the other mothers voice is too soft and she reveals to you another box in her hands.

this one however is red and takes up just the size of her palm. the gold cursive font with the words Cartier burning into your eyes, she opens the box to reveal a pair of golden bracelets so simple yet so exquisite. the other mothers hand goes to your charm bracelet which causes you to flinch your hand away but the other mother catches it.

“we don’t need this old rusty thing now, do we?” the claws digging into your wrist, threatening to oerice through your skin and cut your veins underneath. inducing the pounding in your chest and distress in your head but you do not know if its intentional or not.

no words seem to leave your mouth for you’re to petrified to say anything so you simply just nod. letting the other mother open the charms clutch and slip the rusted gold piece of your wrist, replacing it with the two Cartier gold bands.

glassy eyes threatening with tears drop down to her fisted hand that holds the charm bracelet, wondering if it was wise to tell her to leave it on your vanity till you’ve come home from your date. if you want to go on this ridiculous date anymore, the thought disappears when she takes your hand and pulls you gently up.

“oh look at how much you have grown! you’re a women now,” her words don’t sound sweet to you at all, they hint to a remembrance that she thinks she’s known you her whole life.

the wave of shame and liability on your bare shoulders is heavy. if your real mother were to look at you now she would demand you to take off the dress and hide it away. if your father saw you now he would order you where you are going, who you’re going out with, ruin any chance of hope to have a good night.

the spire fuels you to take the many steps out of your room and down the hallway, going down the staircase with your other mother by your side. though your thoughts on what your parents would think always leave you taking stops midway.

“lets get you downstairs, we don’t want to keep Jake waiting.” that statement makes your head snap to hers, mouth cracking open and heart racing upon her very word.

“Jake?! as in Jake Wyler? Jake why are you here is here?” you spatter and stop in your tracks not going down a single step of stairs.

“yes dear he is here! he is a good boy, I fixed him up just for your liking,” her words are deflected, you hated the Wyler boy ever since you set your eyes on him.

which was the very first day you moved here, he appeared suddenly like a bad omen while you explored the Pink Palace estate. enchanted as well as fascinated by the small charming bridge and spacious yet empty dead garden, you pictured what flowers to plant in certain garden groves until you reached the empty grey area near the woods.

since you were told an ancient well was around these parts, you set yourself to look for with the help of a stray black feline. that is until you were caught off guard by a person in black, riding on a rowdy mechanical bike wearing a white sinister mask rushing towards you from down a steep hill.

honking a blaring horn scarring the living daylights out of you, you reacted how anyone would. screaming as you believed he’d crash against your figure, hands covering your face. hiding from the terror until you shed them when the bike stopped, your eyes met to see the mystery masked person on his bike. stopping only centimeters from your body and when revealing himself you were met with a surprising attractive stranger.

it made your heart race when you took off the mask, made your heart flutter when his blue eyes locked with yours as he gave you a boyish smirk. leaning forward till his forearms rested on the handles, a tilt to his head that made you believe he wasn’t so bad and his only intention was to just tease.

however it created the start of a bitter grudge when he greeted you with nothing but that smirk and a flirty remark of, “what is a pretty girl like you doing in the middle of the woods?”

in that reason when you would find was a signature introduction of his, wooing all the girls with his pearly smile and beautiful blues. too bad you were new to this town and new a person through the layers of charm, you knew the greeting of your new neighbor wasn’t off to a good start.

however you did find the well that was covered by the fairy mushroom ring, and of course it lead him into teasing you about that as well as the mood ring on your finger. telling you that mood rings don’t work but stop when he noticed it was turning pink suddenly, it just ignited his confidence and the flirtations.

yet you stood there in your muddy boots and denim jeans not offering a bit of retaliation, hating how your mood ring had betrayed you. every girl knows a form of teasing was a sign of attraction of friendship or infatuated, you of course declined both. sure it was mostly you who was verbally distancing yourself from the boy day after day, you eventually found out was the towns favorite golden boy— Jake Wyler.

you just didn’t take kindly to people who scared you nor strangers of the matter, or anyone you believed who’d abandon you for something better.

the conversation ended with a flirtatious yet teasing remark of why are you here — yes, you gave him that nickname when he mentioned that his family used to own the Pink Palace until they sold it — which you took as the perfect opportunity to tell him off.

on the other hand, your words did nothing to make him get the message to leave you alone. it was a good thing though, as much as you hated him you wanted to see him and his handsome face more, hoping he would feel the same thing about you.

with the call of his name by an elderly woman from afar he straddled his bike again. “guess i’ll see your pretty face tomorrow then, yeah?” he questions but he seems to have answered his own question before you flashed him a strong no.

although it’s like he could see right through, and the mood ring was practically glowing in a rosy pink aura. made your face beat up as he gave you a wink before racing off into the woods.

following the bike trial path through the red and yellow trees until his mechanical bike and the ruckus sound of it was gone, you really had hoped you wouldn’t see him again because you knew crushes like this would break your heart.

but you had.

every day since meeting him he would always find a way to see you. from talking to you every now and then when attempting to introduce yourself to your other neighbors. to knocking at your door to invite you over to his house for dinner, to annoying you with something of his or just asking you if you’d like to go out in town with him and a couple of friends.

shit, Jake even gave you a doll that looked exactly like you that he “found” in his grandmother’s attic, which creeped you out to an extent that you ignored any knocking at your door for the weekend.

all these invitations to be accepted into his social circle you easily shut down and declined but maybe if you didn’t have an imaginary bias against him and your own social conflicts weren’t so faulty, maybe you would set out to be his friend and play along with his flirtations.

maybe there was this underlying thought you were being a bit too infatuated to him that keeps you from befriending him. Jake Wyler, in other words is perfect, he has pretty features that seemed like God himself took time to carve, a warm embrace when words would spill through his plump pink lips, and a dashing all American boy presence that makes anyone at the opposite end of those pretty blue hues fall hard.

and that is the problem, the real Jake Wyler is too perfect. well not perfect, but you don’t know what to expect from the other Jake Wyler.

somewhere in the depth of his mind there must be a malicious threat that set out to hurt you. or so you made yourself believe, you can’t help but protect yourself from his comforting charm. you’ve encountered too many boys that reminded you of Jake, all of them the reason why your heart is just one heartbreak away from shattering into blistering china chards. you couldn’t risk giving in to this silly school girl crush because you don’t want to feel lonely.

until now, that you had a surprise date in another realm. how would this Jake Wyler be if he was suited and molded to your liking when you’ve denying any attraction to him whatsoever?

allowing the other mother to walk you down the steps of the stairs, passing the kitchen and sitting room until you reach the hallway leading to the front door. suddenly from looking up you stop abruptly in your tracks to see Jake Wyler.

no, the other Jake Wyler.

the sight of his dark navy button eyes place a knot in your throat, they look just like his real eyes it’s petrifying. though, he still very much looked the same as you would regularly see him. a black layered sweater and baby blue baggy jeans finished with his muddy shoes, the only difference is the lack of leather gloves he usually wears on his hands.

the blood red roses in his gloveless hold captures your eyes, and your eyes look up to meet his buttons, “hello hello, pretty girl,” he softly speaks with his signature crooked grin that makes you want to bashfully smile, but you deny him that obvious sign of attraction.

“hello why are you here,” you respond bluntly and his head moves to the side. a smirk on his face knowing his charming motives are somewhat working if you’re starting to get tenses though making a mistake—

“I think you already know why i’m here,” he chuckles, ignoring your crude nickname for him which you found strange.

the real Jake always had something equally witty and rude to say back at you but instead of that he hands you a bouquet of your favorite flowers, getting a whiff of his cologne that makes your knees weak.

how did he know these were your favorite flowers? and how did he know that that specific scent made you delirious?

“you didn’t have to bring me flowers, you know,” you mutter but he just continues to smile, not minding a single of your rude remarks.

“nonsense, it wouldn’t be proper and as a gentleman with greatest interest in his dearest lady— it would be a joke not to adorn you with flowers.” he smoothly grins and you bit your lip, eyes going to his button eyes and you allow a small smile to slip.

“and where would this gentleman take his dearest lady?” you ask and as his response he extends a hand which you take, loving the masquerading warmth when you intertwine your fingers with his.

“somewhere to replace the emptiness of magic and fantasy you’ve been craving all your life. please allow me,” and you can’t deny that that has your heart racing.

Jake walks you out the door, allowing him to lead you to the porch. turning your head over your shoulder, you see your other parents at the doorway grinning at you both and waving exaggeratingly to go and enjoy your time. smiling at them, you turn your attention back to Jake as you walk side by side, hand in hand with him as he takes you to Mr. Bobinsky’s division.

the September air is not to hot but not cold but you do not mind the cascading warmth of Jakes arm over your shoulder as you both walk up the stairs to Mr. Bobinsky’s balcony.

“Jake what are we doing here?” you ask but continue to walk up the stairway anyway, he smiles behind you.

“it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you now would it?” he cheekily remarks but you frown upon those words.

you have been graced with enough surprises to last you a lifetime.

“go on, open the door,” he encourages and your breathing hitches. you don’t want to see the sight of Mr. Bobinsky’s messy house, with the smell of putrid rotten food and the alcohol in his yellow teethed breath. looking over to Jake, his blue button eyes reassure you enough to raise your hand to grasp the doorknob.

shutting your eyes and open the door with a quick bang. a second or two passes and you hear Jake laugh behind you, “you can open your eyes pretty girl,” he whispers, lips pressing softly against your ears and hands at the soft material of your waist.

taking the trust you have in him you open your eyes and when you do so a gasp escapes your lips for the grey mess that was once Mr. Bobinsky’s home is transformed into a carnival themed entrance. a walkway formed by cannons in two lines catches your eyes and the clucking of a chicken captures your ears.

“y/n look!” Jake exclaims stomping on the cannons pedal and your met sight of a mess of pink strawberry cotton candy splattered on Jakes clothes. laughing as you see the sugary stickiness covering his face and hair and his weak attempt to remove the sugar sweetness from himself.

taking his hands he rubs his button eyes look at you with his crooked grin “you try it, I know you’re smart enough to not mess up,” he lets out a series of laughs as he eats the candy floss, making a snowmelt pull from you. “i’m not sure but i’ll try.”

pressing down gently on the cannons pedal, it results in a cone of baby blue candy floss popping into the air and you grab it quickl. smiling in amazement, taking the candy floss into your mouth the fluff of blueberry syrup hitting your tongue is divine. looking around to the other attraction besides the wheel of buttered popcorn controlled by the clucking chicken you giggle as you grab and handful of it and shove the buttery popped corn into Jakes mouth.

he responses to that fairly well as he laughs, trying to keep the kernels into his mouth without opening his mouth. you could spend the night like this but you jump at the sound of Mr. Bobinsky’s voice, “ladies and gentlemen! for to tickle your eyes and ears! and making hearts to pound!” the curtain to the miniature tent in the room opens.

Jake takes your hand and guides you underneath the tent, making you go first before he does and the sight of the small tent that seemed to be impossible to fit you and him transforms into a gigantic fortress of glimmering lights. two reserved seats and the background surrounded by red and white striped cloth. the center of the tent is a small flying indigo blimp, propelling up into the air slowly.

“I Sergei Alexander Bobinsky now introduce my astounding, stupendously and amazing jumping mouse circus!” your eyes meet and you gasp when the little blimp falls to the ground but the outcome of the mice coming to life and standing on top of each other to write your name in the curves of their long thin tails and small bodies makes your eyes gloss and mouth gape in wonder and astonishment.

“my name!” you gasp and Jake smiles down at you throwing an arm over your shoulder pulling you close.

the bustling mice jump off of each other and retrieve their small trumpets, trombones and drums from their embroidered crimson jackets and start their symphony. guided by the sole mouse jumping on the golden starred ball his baton guides the mice to and fro.

signaling the shapes they’d make, from a large circle swirling around, to a large star all while creating their wonderful melody, “do you like it?” Jake whispers anxiously.

that ridiculous question has you deliriously acting without thinking, turning to him you place a soft kiss on his lips. finally, to your hearts content you are kissing the golden boy. as much as you wanted to deny the feelings you have for him you couldn’t and for that you’re so happy.

the warmth of his lips so inviting yet the act in front of you has you pulling away, causing a light cherry tint to dawn Jakes cheekbones. “I love it, it’s absolutely wonderful,” you whisper in his ear then move your attention back to the mice who are creating a spiral swirling around then a bullseye.

the motion of their bodies jumping and twirling while seemingly playing their miniature instruments fascinates you as the motion to form the curved spiral engraved on the floor another gasp escapes you lips when the floor tile towers up. having the leading mouse jumping on the very peak while the others follow along to the melody they stand on top their tales releasing the drums beats.

your hand suddenly holds Jakes in restlessness and he gives you a reassuring squeeze not keeping your eyes off the mice's enchanting performance their drumming stops. the conductor bounce once more on the ball and glides down the swirling tower, making the mice in their single positions jump to the floor with a squeak while the trumpet and trombone musicians play their duet as they all jump off the tower the tower shoots down to reveal Mr. Bobinsky.

the sight of him in his grand embroidered uniform looks like it was suited for a Russian prince and the way he bows down in courtesy your applauses bring his small emerald button eyes to you and he pridefully smiles.

“very very thank you lady and gentlemen,” he speaks, the thick Hungarian accent stitched in every spoken word. looking down to the orchestra of circus mice you winks to the conductor and with three jumps on the ball the mice jump onto the stage and creep up both Mr. Bobinsky’s sleeves.

the action of it all the mice gliding through the jacket sleeves you can see the outline of the mice as Mr. Bobinsky shifts up with the crookedness of his arms while the conducting mouse on the jumping ball rolls onto his head then disappears with the coverage of Mr. Bobinsky’s top hat and then the symphony ends.

you jump from your seat in a standing ovation, “Mr. B that was-“ you’re cut off with an “aaaah-!“ he confidently drawls with his hands encouraging your next few words.

“amazing!” you cut in and he smiles, “you are very welcome anytime you’d like. you and your boyfriend here,” he smiles and he extends a hand which you place you hand in his and he kisses her knuckles making you smile softly.

“you are a very lucky man to escort this wonderful woman,” and Jake nods his head and looks down to you, blushing at M. B’s words and Jakes attention.

“the luckiest,” he smiles down at your flustered stance, taking your hand and walking you outside the carnival like apartment division and down the creaky wooden stairs.

the walk silent and peaceful you’re chest fills with a sadness that this little date is over once he takes you onto the porch of your house. walking inside you two immediately notice the absence of your other parents and a note on the lace table next to a vase of flowers. you pick it up and examine it.

off on a walk through the garden with your father, we’ll be back soon. - your mother

placing the note down gently, your head lifts to look to Jake.

“I guess this is our goodbye,” his saddened voice lingers in your ears and you turn around and shake your head.

noticing Jake had read the note to, your mind struggles to think on what next to do when his hands that are planted respectfully at your waist glide down to your hips. the sensation of the prolonging warmth against the cool silk makes your heart flutter and core burn. Jakes sweet cologne filling your nostrils, your soft fingers grab his forearms. feeling the muscle through the thick sweater, they’re holding them still to make sure his hands don’t attempt lift off your body.

“no! no, please don’t go,” you softly whisper, not sure if your begging but you would to reassure yourself that he won’t leave. holding your hands tightly with his, not letting him go.

“then- then I won’t. I won’t go,” he reassures and you smile that starlight smile that makes the button eyed boy fall harder for you. getting on the tips of your toes, placing your mouth against his your surprised when his lips aren’t stark cold but warm and tender.

tasting like all the sweet things you’ve tried tonight, but you don’t want sweet.

“may you take me to my room, please,” you draw, feeling Jakes shaky breath brush like paint across your lips.

“of course,” and he takes your hand, guiding him through the hallways of hanged expensive paintings on-top of wallpaper.

occasionally tripping and giggling on the clawfoot legs of the lavish furniture and beaming at each other through the golden framed mirrors till you meet the grand staircase.

a joyful squeal burst from your grinning lips when Jake wraps you in his arms carrying you up the stairs. crooked grin capturing the apple of your eye, your arms around his neck and breasts pressed softly against his chest causes his face to fiercely blush.

each step he takes makes your body jump and the grip on him stronger and your heart drops when one of your small pumped heels fall off your feet. falling and dropping down a few steps of stairs you apologize but its wiped with an assured, “don’t worry Cinderella, i’ll get it,”

Jake turns around to get it yet you pull his face to yours, “forget about it,” you murmur with a peck to one of the freckles on his neck and it doesn’t lessen his cherry blush that spreads now to the tips of his ears and lower neck.

once you meet the top and without any means of guiding him to your room he opens your door like he originally knew. although you don’t think much of it, it’s very obvious which room was yours: against all the cherry oak doors that filled the two walls of the hallway, only yours is a shade of pale pink.

walking into the room, Jake isn’t at all surprised to find everything in your room to be pink. the stuffed animals in the corner of your room greeting you and the flutter of vivid butterflies in the air. at the side of your bed, Jake moves the sheer blush curtain of your canopy bed and lays you on the plush comforter.

a single large hand of his goes to your foot that still has the remaining strapped heel attached and slides it off. placing it down besides the bed, he takes the edge of the comforter to cover your body then to tuck you in for bed. doing so, he stands from your bed before leaning down to cup your chin in his hand, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

the butterflies in your stomach erupt and when your hands rise up to hold the sides of his face, or lean in for another kiss he is pulling away. “goodnight pretty girl,” he whispers, yet before you can respond you grab his hand before he can turn and walk away.

“please, no,” you mutter, eyes flooding with unexpected l tears, he stops in his tracks when he notices them.

wondering if he has done anything wrong in order for you to cry, he probably has and his voice gets caught in his throat. “no? did I do something wrong? have I hurt you pretty girl?” Jake questions and you shake your head, taking his hand to pull him closer and he obliges.

“i’m sorry pretty girl, i’ll do anything for you to forgive me. what do you want me to do?” he asks and you turn your eyes away from him, pouting at the comforter that covers your bed.

what do you want from him?

Jake is the only person who has made this move from here to Michigan worthwhile and magnificent. he is everything you wanted and dreamt of, a perfect boy who did whatever you wanted and listened to you. you do not know what you want from him but the burning sensation in the pit of your belly and your wet cunt do most of keeping you from biting your tongue.

“please,” you plead to him, removing the comforter that was over you to the side. kneeling on the bed in front of him, looking up to the button eyed boy with your doe eyes.

“I- I’m sorry but I don’t know what you need. I cannot do what you wish if you do not speak on what you wish,” he timidly but softly speaks, his tone isn’t teasing or taunting but a reminder.

the real Jake Wyler would know what you would mean when you would say please, on your knees looking up at him with your doe eyes. would unzip his pants and she’d every piece of closing off of you while teasing every inch of skin his fingers touch.

the real Jake Wyler would know what you need but not the other one — you sit there in realization because that’s what the other mother was implying earlier this night — “I fixed him for you.”

it’s like she knew of the manipulative boys who have took advantage of you. now you have a boy who respected all your boundaries and let you be in control. but you didn’t want to be in control now, you wanted someone who could make you feel loved, who can forever make you feel the heavenly butterflies of bliss.

“please Jake, touch me,” you plead and almost immediately his hands go to grasp your hand in his warm hold, you shake your head no. “not there, closer.” then his hand glides to your side, clasping it in a way that makes your bottom lip come home in between your teeth.

still, you still shake your head. “closer Jake.” his hand creeps down to your thigh and you feel your wetness spreading and soaking the inner hem of the pink silk.

“a little closer,” you whisper, your breath hitched and honeyed, Jakes own breathing stutters and his hands slip under the dress and he lets out a ragged sigh when his fingers finally meet your wetness.

those digits accidentally brush your dripping hole and you arch your back in bliss. “please, put your fingers in me Jake. make me feel something,” you sob and Jake does as you wish. those hesitant digits dipping into your soaked folds and enter your tight hole, aimed to seek out your pleasure and give it to you.

you moan at the stretching sensation, his other hand cupping your face until it grasps your jaw. thumb tracing your lips, “faster please, go faster,” you moan and he does, feeling the tightness in his pants he doesn’t dare let himself out until you ask him to or before he gets you off. falling your back against the bedcovers, pleasurable sighs flow through your plump lips as Jakes fingers scissor you open.

feeling yourself on the brink of coming your eyes go to his pants, the big tent in his pants and you almost cum at the sight. “stop,” you sigh and not a millisecond later he stops his pumping and takes his fingers out of your weeping pussy.

“did I do something wrong pretty girl?” he whispers anxiously, causing you to shake your head with reassurance.

“no! no, you’re doing so good it’s just- I wanna share this moment with you to,” you whisper pulling yourself up but the sight of navy buttons once you open your eyes pulls you aback frightened.

Jake pulls back with a remorseful frown, disgusted with himself to have scared you. “i-i’m so sorry y/n- just- please wait here,” he stutters and goes around your room searching for something until his eyes meet sight of your lavender kangaroo sitting amongst your other stuffed animals.

taking the thick string that tightens the stuffies dress together and ties the thick ribbon over his button eyes. making his way to you he trips over the fluffy rug but still manages to make his way to you.

those soft warm hands hold your body and his blush only goes darker when you aren’t wearing your dress but you’re laying bare against your sheets. pulling him to you while you shed each and every article of clothing he has on till he is just as naked as you.

bare and vulnerable under the eyes of the fluttering butterflies, you kiss his cheeks and face. hands in his hair but never touching the blindfold, you pull his face to yours. foreheads touching each others and noses inhaling the same oxygen you exhale, your lips press to his.

“please put it in me, put your cock in me. I wanna feel you,” your airy sigh makes his cock harden even more but the heavenly silkiness as you dives the tip of his member into your wet warm walls.

the simple action has him seeing stars and he feels himself being reborn back into the needle hands of his creator— but not screaming in pain. no. this is all the heavenly things he wishes to be apart of, to be amongst in till the sun rises and sets, to live in.

“harder, go harder please Jake! I wanna feel all of you please!” you pant beneath him and he does as he is told. pushing his whole member deeper into your tight channel, moaning when you squeeze around him.

pulling his head down by the grip you have in his hair, you gift him short and sloppy kisses. kisses that fill Jake’s heart chambers up with honey and your eyes gloss with heavenly dream. finding your hands to his, he pulls them above your head as he continues to ram into your caving velvety warmth as his tongue massages yours.

“pretty girl, y-you, you feel so good.” he moans and grunts and it only takes a few pumps until his thick tip hits your spongy ceiling. gripping his bronze shoulders as your nails dig into his skin from the peaking sensation. it makes Jakes pumps go faster as he grunts in your ear.

“cum for me pretty girl, be my pretty girl forever. cum for me.” with those sweet and hot words you cream all your euphoric pleasure onto his cock.

a loud groan leaves his lips and you pull those redness to yours, his tongue ties to yours and it only but roughens the grind your sensitive cunt has onto his pumping cock. releasing your mouth from Jakes he hides his face in the crook of your neck, his pleasured moans and sighs filling your ears ad you whisper sweet affirmation in his.

“cum for me Jake, please cum for me,” your voice sweetly divine as the butterflies that cover Jakes bare back. pulling out of you, he spills his white ropes of cum onto your thighs with a groan which you silence with a sweet long kiss.

catching your breath, you softly smile when Jake collapses on top of you. the warmth of his body so soft and comforting, his breath brushing against the skin of your neck so tenderly. cupid lips trace his temple, pressing cherry lipgloss prints against it as your fingers trace his silky raven hair.

before you can whisper how much this moment means to you, Jake speaks, “don’t come back here. please don’t come back,” he fearfully exhales trying to catch his breath after his orgasm. those very words have you from smiling to frowning, eyes watering with potential tears your throat burns.

“why? did I do something wrong?” your voice breaks, seconds away from bursting into a tearful mess.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he whimpers, hand to your face caressing your cheek. your mind clouds in a stormy blitz, heart pacing slowly trying to find an explanation.

get hurt from what?

“Jake i-i’m fine. look at me! i-i’m alright, there’s nothing to worry about-” but those soft playful words only make Jake shake his head hysterically. a trembling crooked frown pulling his soft lips into a hushed body shaking sob.

“this world isn’t as it seems to be. I-I promise my life on you. please do not return! your fate will be deadly,” he wails and you notice the blindfold he is wearing getting wet, streams of droplets falling onto his redden cheeks.

eyes concentrated to his tears you lift up your fingers and brush them off, he takes your hand and keeps it on his cheek, savoring your warm touch for his skin has gone deathly cold. tears of your own springing to life in those starlight eyes, streams shooting stars down the angelic scape of your face.

“okay Jake,” you whisper, broken and airy and with that Jake gets up with a sorrowful stride but you catch his hand again. causing his head to flying back to you in confusion and chance, your arms wrap around his shoulders and you pull him next to you on the bed till he is under the covers just like you.

“if I am to promise to never see you again please lay with me. that is all I’m asking before I wake up,” you shakily whisper, your tears already soaking your cheeks.

“please, don’t cry. don’t cry for me,” he whispers but it only makes he shed your blistering sorrow even more. this is the last night you will see him, even though it was the first you wish to repeat this day over and over again for centuries.

“I can’t, I can’t,” you sob and with that shake against his body he pulls you to him and presses a kiss to your mouth.

not knowing the right words to say, he is nothing but a twisted object of the other mothers sinister craft. Jake didn’t know what to feel without her instruction, not know what to act one without her, but with you. you made him into something real, something that wasn’t born in the creeping shadows at the grasp of needle hands. that however doesn’t mean he possesses no heart and it doesn’t mean that you haven’t carved your name in it.

you wish to feel him before you wake without him, and without even telling him he slips his soft member into your folds. creeping his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your natural sweet scent you feel his tear soaked blindfold against your warm skin. his lips humming a melody you heard your other mother sing but when he harmonizes it doesn’t bring shivers and penetrating fear but passionate serenity.

it doesn’t take much for you to go to sleep, the soft circular motions of Jakes thumb on your stomach and his soft lullaby works well with the swirling butterflies humming a song with each flap of their silver outlined wings. before sleep outweighs your thundering sad thoughts and slumber shutting your close eyelids you feel a kiss to your temple.

“I love you,” the button eyed boy silently hushes before his tears drown him in his sleep.

once you open your eyes however, seeing sight of your room just how it originally is you drastically turn your head over next to you but you are heartbroken to find an empty space. the blindfold he wore last night rests on the other side of you pillow, shaking hands grab it and rub the material through your thumbs.

the smell of him stitched into the fabric you pull it close to you against the bareness of your chest, tears streaming down your face till they drip down to the pillow his head slept on. a sob erupts from your mouth, the emotional heartache thundering your china doll heart you feel it shattering against the bones of your ribs.

the boy you thought you hated is now paved into your mess of a heart, but you cannot ignore his warning or break your oath to him.

you will not return, you will never see him again.

#brattycherubwrites #spooktober #coraline!crossover #jake wyler × reader #jake wyler imagine #jake wyler #jake wyler × black!reader #jake wyler × won!reader #chris evans #chris evans × reader #chris evans × black!reader #chris evans × woc!reader #chris evans characters

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 3 years

Note

FMK - annoying edition (a nice one is coming!)

Lucas Lee / Jake Wyler /Bryce Langley

FMK -Alpha Steve / Curtis Everett /Beefcake Bucky

THAT REALLY IS THE ANNOYING ADDITION. Lmao.

Fucking... Lucas Lee. He is so full of himself that if you even HINT that he might not be the best you ever had, he makes it his mission to make you scream his name several times. He wants that validation.

Kissing Bryce? Or killing Bryce? I dont trust him and I dont really want him close enough to get his hands on me cause fuck he might end me. Damn if Im taking any drinks from him either. Hes so shady. I will only kiss his cheek if we are in a crowded room.

Guess im marrying me some idiot boy Jake Wyler. So I have hopes that when he grows up, he will mature? Maybe he can become... a coach in his middle age years, settle down and be a responsible adult with my help. I have faith. Plus I can bring up banana in his adorable butt cheeks whenever I wanna see him get all pissy.

"It was one time Y/n! I was trying to impress a girl."

"You do that for me?"

"No were already married. I will let you eat some whipped cream off me though."

Now the other one.

Marrying Curtis Everett. We will live in a AU world where he works in a train yard, and comes home to me all dusty and dirty, boots thumping across the entry way and jumping into his arms to yank that beanie off and kiss him playfully to welcome him home from a day at work.

"Im never gonna get tired of that welcome home Sweetheart." He nudges your nose with his while giving a gentle smile and you return it back.

"Im never gonna get tired of giving it to you. Now quick, take a shower handsome. Tonya, Edgar and everyone is gonna be over in another hour to play a round of cards and sit around the bonfire."

"Okay okay..." He drops you to your feet. "Only if you join me."

Im fucking Alpha Steve. He catches a whiff of your scent and it makes every nerve sing for you. Dragging his nose up your neck to where your hair curls at your temple, whispering for just you to hear in between soft demanding growls. "Bend over the arm of the couch Little One, when Im fucking you hard I want you to be comfortable." A nip of his fangs leave you gasping, a silent warning that you better do as he says because he isnt going to ask twice.

Leaves sweet Beefy Bucky to get the kiss. Which I think he deserves, dont you? This man has been through so much that when you straddle his lap and gently cup his face in your hands, he is going to sink into that soft touch. CRAVE the sensation of caring hands on him because he has lived a life time of pain and demands. You ask for nothing from him, he is allowed to give or take freely without consequences. So when he reaches for your lips, you slant in closer, freely giving him this gift hes been asking for almost his entire life. A gentle sweet kiss flowing between you, fluttering breaths shared and falling into one anothers embrace. I would so happily give him those silent moments.

Positivity Asks

#positivity sleepover #amber answers

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hettiesworld · 4 years

Text

Kids

Pairing: Mark "Dags" D'Agastino x OFC (Bethany)

Plot summary: When Bethany is assigned as Class President of Fairmount High School, she gets bullied quite a lot. But for Dags, the local troublemaker, he has a bit of a crush on Bethany and visa versa. But they can’t confess to each other. But after the school trip to Washington D.C (and getting partnered with her) and saving the group from getting plunged into a lake in the school bus, he manages to get a soft and passionate kiss from Bethany.

Author’s note: This is for my 30 Days of Jeremy challenge and I think Dags from Senior Trip is SO underrated, like Evans’s character, Jake Wyler. Why not? The faceclaim for Bethany is Scarlett Johansson.

Warning(s): Strong language, mentions of sexual content, fluff.

Word count: 1242 words

“And the winner for the position of Class President is…” Principal Moss was announcing the results of this year’s class president election as well as other important news over the tannoy system.

“...Bethany Foster!”

Bethany was in the hallway at recess when the announcements were being made. To be honest, she was embarrassed when Moss decided to say it in front of many of the students in the school.

Last week, Bethany’s official welcome was over in a flash. The principal wore his standard greeting smile, but it never extended to his eyes, as if his mind was off on some other important task while he ticked me off his to-do list. Students move around the hallways in gossiping throngs. Everyone knows everyone. The map that hung so limply in her hand will soon fall apart along the fold lines and still this place was like a maze to her.

But then, she met Dags.

Well, Mark was his real name, but she definitely preferred Dags.

It was weird at first but every day she fell in love with the idea of falling in love. It was unpredictable and crazy but she loved it.

A crush is nothing more than a lust for someone. That does change anything in her eyes. He is still always there in her mind. Everyday when she see him, that is it. She is thinking about him for the entire day. When their eyes lock, his eyes burn hers like she has been staring at the sun for too long. He is my crush, but he will never be mine. That much she already knows.

But much to Beth’s disappointment, Dags felt the same way.

The next day in Math, that’s when the bullying happened. Dags walked in the classroom, late as usual, with downcast eyes and his thick bangs almost reached his shoulders. Bethany had spent the morning rehearsing scenarios she knew would never happen, but regardless of the futility she did it from waking right up until class. Then she sat trying to control her breathing and prevent her face from turning beet red; but the breaths came quicker and her cheeks warmed regardless.

"Psssst, Bethany, I hear Ken likes you."

It was Reggie, the wannabe troublemaker who chewed gum and wore ripped jeans. Reggie leaned forward on his desk and used a straw to spit out a spitball to the Math teacher, still chewing his gum professionally. Then he sat back and glanced around the room to bask in the grins of his classmates. He was the king.

And of course, he was talking about Dags.

During group work, Dags and Barry Kremmer were talking about one of the students, Meg Smith.

“What about Meg?” Barry asked Dags.

“Meg’s gay.” Dags replied. Bethany, who was in front of them, rolled her eyes. Yeah right. Meg Smith is gay? Well, if she was, who was Beth to judge her?

“Well if anyone can change her, it's you.” Barry admitted to Dags, pointing towards Meg and then doing the gesture of sex behind his back as Dags was looking at Meg.

Bethany looked back to see Barry doing that to Dags. She whispered to Barry, “You better stop that before Dags sees you. You’re just childish.”

---------------------

In a later lesson, which was English, Dags was chatting up Lisa Perkins, the goody-two-shoes (just like Bethany, but more goody than her).

“Lisa. Lisa, Lisa, Lisa, Lisa…” Dags kept badgering Lisa with her name. Lisa got fed with him and looked around to face him.

“What?”

“Wanna cut and go to a party?” Questioned Dags, who was chewing gum that Reggie gave him at lunch.

“Huh.” Lisa turned back and tried to ignore Dags, but he was very persuasive.

“Come on! I know you like me.” Dags smirked at her, still chewing his gum, his left earring showing. Bethany was watching the scene unfold from the back of the classroom, the teacher not even giving a fuck.

“Would you just leave me alone?” Lisa snapped at him, teeth gritted. Her book was now a mess, filled with an angry doodle over her English research. She looked back quickly and sighed.

“I am concerned about you, Lisa. One day, you're gonna wake up and realise that you wasted all of your high school years studying.”

“And you're gonna wake up one day and realise that you're a loser!” Lisa stormed out of the classroom as soon as the final bell went for hometime. Not before she ripped out her ruined research paper and threw it into the bin.

Bethany saw Dag’s smile turn into a frown. She wished she could do something but she was too shy. So she just packed up her bag and walked out of the classroom.

-------------------------

The next day, Principal Moss makes the announcement over them being invited by the US President, who amazingly enjoyed their letter, to Washington D.C. to discuss it. And the students were all put into pairs for safety, of course.

“Meg Smith and Barry Kemmer… Carla Morgan and Travis Linsday... Reggie Barry and Lisa Perkins…”

Bethany was hoping that she wasn’t put with…

“Bethany Foster and Mark D’Agastino.”

Oh no.

-----------------------

After a wild and adventurous trip to Washington D.C and Dags saving everyone from the school bus from getting plunged into a lake, both him and Bethany were on a balcony, at the school, talking.

“Thank you for saving us.” Bethany proclaimed, leaning against the balcony and looking at the view.

“It was no problem.” Dags replied, who smiled back at Bethany.

“You gotta stop the drinking though. And the troublemaking. Seriously. It’s not a good look on you.” Bethany critiqued him, suddenly looking at him, swishing her red hair in the process.

Dags just laughed.

After a moment’s silence, Bethany decided to tell him.

“I need to ask you something.”

“Sure, what?”

“Since when did you have a crush on me? And don’t say you didn’t cause’ Reggie told me.”

“Shit.” Dags blushed and cleared his throat. “It was when you first came into school. In Math. With that fiery red hair I love. And those bright, beautiful and crystalline eyes. Those big blue eyes…”

Bethany blushed as she realised that Dags did like her back, just like Reggie said to her.

“There’s another thing, actually.”

“Go ahead.”

“Well, I've been thinking about this and... I don't want to go to college as a virgin.” Bethany blushed at what she just said and she was worried about what Dags was going to reply with.

“Oh.”

Oh? That’s what his response was?

Then Dags realised what she said.

“Oh!” Dags blurted out and smiled at her.

“I mean… if you don’t want to, that’s fine. I mean-”

"Sh." He hushed her, before moving his finger, and pressing his hand against her cheek, giving him more support to push himself towards her, and connected their lips. His lips were firm against hers, but the kiss remained soft, gentle, slow. They held it for a few seconds, before their lips began to move in perfect sync, slowly.

He exhaled through his nose, not wanting to let go. Her entire body had been taken over by the overwhelming feeling of relief, combined with eccentric panic, and lust. He moved his hand from her cheek to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her long, dark red hair, lightly pulling her into him, adding more pressure to their lips, deepening the kiss.

Tags:

@optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @yavanna80 @dreamlesswonder86 @archerybitch68 @ilovebrandt @sarabeth72 @carissime72 @jtargaryen18 @fizzytaurus @axelwolf8109 @shadow16350 @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123

#30DaysofJR #jeremy renner #dags #senior trip #nbarnes

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

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."

#siris5ksoftdarkchallenge #dark!jake wyler x reader #idek how to tag this nobody's looking for jake wyler fics lmao

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