NSFW// under 18 and ageless DNI
college au, asshole!jean, fem bodied reader
cw// unprotected sex, creampie, power play (but everybody's into it) hatefucking kind of, there's nothing crazy in here but pls lmk if i missed anything
i am down bad for this man and also a good enemies to lovers arc. also this is my first one of these so pls enjoy, it's a little slow angst in the beginning but she picks up don't you worry.
what a stupid smirk. you hated the motherfucker staring at you from across the quad that was doing his best to get a rise out of you, and you had ever since his stupid undercut walked into your freshman dorm as a mid semester transfer 3 years ago. He was a prick through and through, but the kind that a less perceptive person would dismiss as charming, so he got away with it. Always 3 stops past the cutoff between funny and mean, he jaunted around campus like a king, surrounded by a mostly constant gaggle of equally-dickish (but admittedly not as clever) boys and a few token brunettes. You weren’t really sure what had made him single you out that first day to get picked on, and it wasn’t really anything obnoxious. Maybe you just weren’t in the mood to be toyed with. Maybe you didn’t want him to think you were buying into the bit. Either way, rolling your eyes and shoving his bigass head out of your face before he even got a chance to bug you at point blank range had made you antagonist number one in his eyes ever since. For three years, Kirstein comma Jean had been like a single fruit fly that just wouldn't die, buzzing around just enough to never anticipate it but to always be infuriated when it came. Sometimes, it was holding the door just long enough for you to be hit with it when he let go. Sometimes, he would spill your drink at the bar under the auspice of grinding on the girl next to you. Sometimes, it was making sure you never got to keep the same seat in any of the classes you had together, taking whatever desk you seemed to have claimed. Your only form of communication with the enemy was a morse code of eye rolls and scoffs, because you weren't even sure if the ashy-blonde beast could understand human language, so why bother. But this strategy backfired because why would anyone believe that someone who you never talk to is actually antagonizing you on purpose. He’s just popular, your friends would say, so he’s kind of in everyone’s way. He’s just everywhere all the time, it’s not personal. And honestly, they would jeer, you’ve made it clear to him to leave well enough alone. And that was true. Jean certainly wasn’t in any shortage of willing victims for his games. Most girls knew that they had a 6 in 10 shot of the taunting turning into something a little more satisfying, and the rumor was that his after hours performances were worth the price of admission. Anyway, Jean’s grating presence had been a constant in the campus ecology since that fucker stepped foot in your freshmen hall, and while you definitely thought about it a lot, your conclusion was that he was just a cocky, conceited, always-cons-his-way, asshole, and so you had long since squashed any ember of desire to be one of the stupid girls in his bed that played the game.
But then, a few weeks ago, some friends asked you if the rumor was true. You watched their faces twist into a smirk as they interpreted your confused look for feigned innocence. Oh c.mon, Jean!! they drew that little fuck’s name out in a mocking tone, I heard you two fucked in the middle of the quad last night. huh?? Wait, I thought it was the quad last saturday and the back hallway of the student center last night!! What?? Your friends are howling laughing, thinking its just toooo good that you finally broke what they saw as obvious sexual tension. Flustered and beet red, you dart your head around, worried someone else heard these accusations. But then again, after a second you thought your friends were just fucking with you. They had long since decided that the running joke would be you and Jean ever getting together, so you started to relax and felt the blood leave your flushed cheeks as you waited for them to get to the punchline.
Well, not for you, anyway.
Your friends watched the look on your face settle and in turn their eyes widened. Wait, so it’s true? they ask, taking your trust in their comedic timing as a proud guilty plea. “What, no,” you say, “of course not! You guys are just fucking around right? Thats hilarious, me fucking somebody out in the open, let alone him.” You laugh through your sentence and your friends' faces grow apprehensive. uhh, no, we actually heard that from Jean...
They eyed each other then looked back to you.
“What do you mean Jean told you that”
I mean... he’s been bragging to everyone about it.
Your head whips back around to the little fuck across the quad that is now starting to walk towards you, raking four lanky fingers through his hair. Goddamn it. holy fuck you hate him. He’s so so just........
What’s a matter?? ask him yourself! They all laughed and started to gather their things, a gesture that on the surface was polite but really they just wanted to watch you confront him with no out.
As he strode up to the blanket you’d been sunbathing on all afternoon, you finally allowed him the satisfaction of a glance, trying desperately to telepathically tell him that you know his little game and he won’t get his way with you. You wont get bothered, in fact he can say whatever he likes. You are not stupid enough to be so smitten by an idiot. But, when he dropped down to eye level with you, meeting your glare with a cutting pull at the corner of his mouth, the realization that none of those thoughts had actually reached him hits you.
You roll your eyes, an expected next step in your litany of attempted communication with the enemy, and as you started to get, Jean grabs your forearm with a big hand.
“What, now you’re embarrassed to be here with me? From what I hear it should take a lot more than some spectators to pry you away from me.”
He breaks into a full grin and chuckles to himself, so so pleased with his little joke.
“Fuck right off, Jean, it’s so embarrassing for you that you’re trying to tell people that.” His face softens a bit but the bite is still there, “Anyway, I would never even dream of fucking you, let alone with potential witnesses.” You yank your arm out of his grasp and stand up, gathering your bag and laptop in a swift motion. Turning, you bend down to grab a fistful of the blanket he’s still pinning down, “Get off my fucking blanket, asshole” you hiss. He chuckles and obliges, standing up and cocking his head to the side, “oh, you’re angrier than I thought you’d be. Well, remember, the number one rule to not getting caught is never return to the scene of the crime, but unfortunately for us,” he looks around and spreads his arms in a sweeping gesture, “we’ve just incriminated ourselves and our actions last saturday.” His grin creeps back full-force as he drops his arms back to his sides. You can only scoff and turn away, making your way back home to the dorms. God, you hate him, you think to yourself. You also hate that his voice is stuck in your head now, and you’re kicking yourself for lingering a little too long on the thought that actually, this is the first time you’ve had a conversation with him.
Over the next week or so the rumors still swirled, but since he had been such a predictable prick to you that day in the quad, you decide to fight fire with fire. Protesting and denying will only make things worse, you reason. Jean was such a manwhore that it was universally and absolutely less likely that he hadn’t slept with someone than that he had, so denying this would be working against the current. No, you think to yourself, I’ll use some leverage.
Which is how you had decided to start telling anyone who would lend an ear that yes, in fact, you had fucked Jean. And he was terrible. My god, he was the worst fuck you’d had in your life. Was it small they’d ask? And not one to give into the cheap shot, you would assure them that no, it was worse than that. It was long enough, but skinny, and he had no idea how to use it. He fucked like the only porn he watches is women taping hairbrushes to broken washing machines, you told them.
Finally feeling like you had gotten the one up on this little fuck, you spent the next few days happily applying all of the worst hook-up stories you or your friends had to Mr. Kirstein, relishing even more that the risk of vulnerability you had taken was paying off.
Finishing up a group project in class the next day, you start to pack your things as you put the final details on a new tidbit of Jean’s apparent failings for your group partners.
"Oh yeah," you said, "he was biting at my leg for 10 minutes, apparently he thought I was telling him to stop and move because i was cumming. That motherfucker couldn’t find a clit if it took him by the hand."
Laughing to themselves, your group partners shuffled out with the rest of the class. You had stayed back for a minute to finish an email to the TA, and as you look up to shut your laptop, you see a large, lanky hand shutting it for you.
“So, this is the game we’re playing?” a voice questions from above.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’ve just been hearing rumors,” You say in a coy taunt. “Anyway, I need to go, so if you’d please unhand my things I’d really appreciate it.”
“Oh, c’mon, you’re in on it now, let’s workshop some stories together,” Jean says through a shit-eating grin as he replaces your computer with his ass on your desk, “I think we would make a better team than you seem to suggest.”
“Hmm..” you muse, pantomiming deep thought, then turning to him with a glare “Thanks, this actually has given me some ideas. I think i’ll start telling them that you begged like a dog for it. Yeah, I think thats the cherry on top. I can hear the gossip now, ‘Jean Kirstein begs to disappoint.’ Oh yeah, I think thats great.’ You chuckle to yourself as you go to zip your backpack when you feel his hand grab your shoulder.
“Do you really think I’d beg?”
It catches you off guard. the motion, the tone, everything about what Jean just did was loaded. Was this a trick to get you to look like the beggar? Was he actually mad? No, you thought, this felt.....
no, you shook the thought. It didn't matter if it was genuine. It didn't matter if he really wanted to beg you, here and now, to let him fuck you. He was awful, you knew that. You could never forgive yourself for succumbing to him. So you wouldn’t.
“Yeah, actually. I think you’re such a pathetic shell of a man that you would beg. And why wouldn’t I think that? You beg for every scrap of attention anyone gives you.”
He pushes you back, squaring your shoulders off to him as he situates himself on the desk sitting directly in front of you. Your shoulders between his knees, he leans forward and rests his forearms on his thighs, long fingers dangling loosely and grazing your chest.
“I do? You think I beg?’ he asks softly.
Fuck. You sat as still as you could, focusing on steadying your breath and not showing the flush that had just swelled through your cheeks. Staring straight ahead into his abdomen to avoid eye contact, you feel fingertips gently but firmly pushing your forehead back, forcing you to look up at him. Fuck, he’s not letting me hide you think. Goddamnit, this was hot.
But you can’t give up the game. You can’t let him think he’s won.
“God, you fuckin perv. Of course you have to beg. Who would fuck you of their own accord?”
His fingertips fall back down between his knees. He hums then sucks his teeth, “Oh c’mon baby, dont be so mean-”
“Baby?? who the fuck are you calling baby you pretentious little fuck?” you bark at him. The rage you felt towards him had suddenly reappeared in you kind, clearing the fog that his soft touch had created. “Goddamn, I literally can’t even believe you’re trying this right now. Do you really think this is a tease game or something? God, you’re not only horrible in theory, you’re pathetic in person, And that's fucking worse.”
You bite your tongue at that last word. Damn, you really hated him but you didn’t want to stoop to his level and just be fuckin’ mean. The way his face was draining of color made you think you took it too far, and your posture softened, bracing to apologize-
what? you're speechless for a beat.
His pupils start to dilate just enough to notice, and his breath is a little shakey when he asks, “Call me pathetic again, y/n, and maybe i will beg you for it, is that what you want?”
You aren’t sure if he's teasing or begging, but that confusion is allowing the wall that you had pent up any and all desire for him behind to come crashing down. God, he’s terrible, but... You decide to play along like he’s begging, refusing to give him the win of being in control here. Well, thats what you tell yourself, you're honestly so confused about the dynamics in play that your head is spinning. Which is how you got into this situation anyway.
“Yeah, beg for it you pathetic, disgusting fuck. Look at you, panting and pale just from the thought that maybe you’ll cop a feel.”
Something in your mind flips again and all of the rage and annoyances from the last three years flood back to your brain. You hated him. You hated him so so much. He was so mean to you and so obnoxious and everybody loved him and you didn’t get it. And now, you're face to face with your enemy, hurling insults like a firing squad and he's just... taking it.
“y/n, do you really hate me?”
“Fuck” he groans, leaning back on his hands. Now that he wasn’t hunched over, you get a better view of the raging hard on barely contained under his sweats. “You really think about me that much, baby? Enough to hate me?” He stares at the ceiling in deep thought for a moment, then leans back in. “Well I guess that means I was doing something right.” He comes closer to your face and traces your jaw with his thumb, pushing your head slightly to the side. Feeling his hot breath on your ear he whispers, “I guess I will have to beg then, since you hate me so much. Will you let me do that, y/n, will you let me beg?”
Your face is hot and tingling from his touch. It would be so easy to just get up and leave him bothered and embarrassed, and isn’t that what you wanted? It was, you mused, but right now? In this moment, all you want is for him to beg you to let him fuck your brains out. You hate yourself for it, too, are you really that horny that even Jean is making the cut? Or, more horrifyingly, is he actually turning you on? Your internal struggle is cut short by the soft feeling of his teeth grazing your earlobe, and with that your fate is sealed.
“Yes, yes you can beg me for it, Jean” You utter.
With those words, his thumb falls from your jaw down your throat, his fingers following suit and delicately draping themselves on the other side of your neck. He takes a sharp breath, "Please y/n, can i kiss you right here? Please let me, y/n I can barely stand it"
Shuddering and resenting the goosebumps that have trailed his touch, you nod, stifling a whimper. You know that the second you vocalize a response, your lust will be betrayed and he'll know he's won. So you sit there stoically as he runs his lips down your neck, taking in your scent and groaning to himself before he steadies the gentle grip on your neck and lands a soft kiss just below your ear. He continues these little flutters, just the soft touch of his lips and tongue, all the way to your collarbone, where he realizes he's reached the boundary of his request. He drags his lips back up to your ear, and between kisses begs again.
"Please, can I please use my hands y/n? I gotta know if you feel as good as i think, i'm begging you."
The begging is driving you crazy. He looks up at you with half lidded eyes that plead even more desperately than his words.
"Where do you want to use your hands, Jean? Surely you don't think you've begged enough to get anywhere near my cunt, right?" you sneer down at him, putting on your best front and trying to sell that you aren't also aching for him at this point.
He gives you a pathetic look, almost like he's about to cry, and starts to kiss your neck again. "i just need to feel your tits, y/n, i need to taste them, ple-"
you grab a fistful of his hair and make him face you. "Oh, taste? you need to need to be more specific about your requests Jean, you only asked me to use your hands. Why do you deserve to use your mouth anymore, asshole?" The pounding heat growing between your legs is giving you newfound confidence in your harsh words. Fuck, this is so hot, he is so, so hot groveling for you. Was this really the payback for years of torment? No, he's clearly getting off on this too. You saw his dick twitch under the sweats when you grabbed his hair. No this isn't payback this is... this is some sort of sick hatefuck. At least for you. Probably.
"Fuck, baby you're right i don't. I won't push my luck again y/n I can't risk it. Can i just touch them, please?" He whimpers. Releasing the grip on his hair you say yes, and with that he moves from the desk he's been sitting on down to his knees. He pulls you the the edge of your seat by your waist with strong arms. Slipping his hands underneath your shirt you feel that the trail of goosebumps continues to follow his touch down your back then up your stomach. He stops kissing the crook of your neck and lets his breath collect where his lips once were as he unhooks the fasten of your bra, letting it fall slack gently and pulling his hands back to your now exposed chest.
He runs his thumbs over your painfully hard nipples with a look of ecstasy on his face. You can feel that you’ve already soaked through your underwear and he’s barely touched you, Fool, you scolded yourself. I'm a fool for him right now. Your hands instinctively run up his arms, then neck, then through his hair, anchoring themselves there as you pull him closer. “Please” he whimpers, “Please can i kiss them”
“Ye- yes” You breath out, lifting your arms for him as he guides your shirt over your head. With one in his hand and the other in his mouth, he takes your nipple in his teeth and sucks. He circles the other with his thumb, keeping it just as hard as the one he’s moaning into. You cradle his head close to your body, lost in the warm bliss you had been denying yourself all these years.
“Fuck, baby, they’re so much better than I even imagined” he switches his hand and mouth
“oh, so you’ve imagined this, Jean?”
“mhm” he mumbles into a facefull of tit. He comes up for air, “Fuck, I have imagined taking you every way possible. I need to, baby, please. You’re the only one who makes me beg for you. For your attention, your time, your body. Fuck baby please let me, please.” He’s whining now, looking up at you with pleading eyes and running his hands all down your sides and up your back. That last ‘please’ makes your eyes roll back into your head as your knees spread involuntarily. But you couldn’t give up just yet.
“what exactly are you begging for Jean? You need to- to use your words” You choke out, stifling a moan from his big hands coming back up to your tits like they belonged there.
“Your pussy, baby, fuck I can see how soaked you are through your clothes. I need to play with it, to taste it, worship it, fill it. Fuck y/n please” He really looks like he might cry if you deny him, and the ache in your cunt is driving you to grind your hips against your chair. “please, baby, can I lick it for you? I know you wanna cum, I wanna make you cum baby. Can I please?”
He kisses down from your sternum to your stomach and finally the waistband of your pants. “I need you to stand up for me baby. I’m sorry to even ask more of you, but I just need you to help me so I can make you feel good.” He lifts your hips up like he’s helping you to your feet, and once upright he starts fingering the button of your jeans. As he undoes it and pulls down the zipper, a little whimper leaves your lips and draws a breathy chuckle out of him. Fuck, if this is a game, he’s winning you think. Shit.
But you can’t know how close to heaven this is for Jean. God, the thrill of a three year chase, culminating in this. You’re so perfect, so soft to the touch, and so mean when you want to be. He just wanted to prove to you that those things you said about him being a bad fuck weren’t true. He needed you to know that no one could make you feel like he could. And how could they? No one else has been able to keep your attention for as long as he has. He didn’t know why you still let him get a rise out of you, but he was constantly chasing that little rush he got whenever you would spare him a cutting look, eyes like daggers tracing down his skin. You were tantalizing, and you made it so much worse by never playing along. He had to earn your cooperation in his game. And he intended to do just that, fuck, he needed to.
He looks right in front of him to your now naked pussy, having taken off your soaked-through panties with your jeans. Big hands on your ass, he tilts his head up to you, “Thank you, baby, you’re too good to me. Please sit down now y/n, let me make you cum.”
You oblige, knees spread while you lean back into the chair, letting your dripping cunt hang from the edge, ready for Jean’s touch. With one hand on your inner thigh and the other gripping your waist he brought his mouth to your pussy, licking up and down, sprinkling kisses in between to keep you on edge. Dragging his tongue from your ass to your clit, he starts to suck on it and elicits a sharp whine out of you. Already starting to get close, you gasp again when you feel two long, rough fingers tease your hole.
“Can I please feel it, y/n?” He mutters, basically inaudible because he’s kind of just asking your cunt.
“Fuck, yes, Jean, just put them in. You taunt me enough anyway, you don’t need to be such a tease,” you huff, rolling your eyes in mock annoyance, a last ditch effort to convince him you need him to beg.
With that, He looks up at you with an evil glint in his eye and buries his fingers in your pussy, curling them up once he’s as deep as he can get to find the spot that will make you yelp. Hearing that he found it, he starts finger fucking you, stroking that little spot every few thrusts. God, he’s gonna make me cum, you think to yourself. But you don’t wanna just cum on his fingers. You wanna cum on his cock. You need to have it in you, especially if it’s anything like you’ve been imagining since you saw the dick print earlier.
“Please cum for me, y/n, im begging you. I really need to feel you cum on my fingers, fuck.” He pulls his fingers out and pushes them back in.
“Fuck, you’re so so tight."
“I just need you to cum for me please.”
“Could you do that? Because I need to fuck you and I need to get you ready for my cock.” He’s whining his pleads over the lewd sound of your wet cunt, and as he’s begging to bury his dick in you he pushes you over the edge. Feeling that you’ve given in to his request as your walls push his fingers out, he stands over you and lifts you up by the waist.
“Fuck, baby, your pussy’s so good and i haven’t even put my dick in yet,” he moans into your ear. “Can I, please? I know I can make you feel even better than you do right now if I can use it. Can I use my cock, y/k?”
“Yes, yes Jean fuck you can use your cock. You can use it however you want” you say, panting. With that, he leans down to kiss you, letting you taste yourself and also letting you realize you haven’t actually kissed him yet. He guides you to the wall, pinning your back against it with his hips and pressing his forearm next to your head. Greedy kisses travel from your mouth and down your neck, interrupted only for him to mutter, “Y/n? can you please pull it out? I wanna feel you hold it.”
“Mhm,” you nod shakily, still recovering from the orgasm. You trace your fingers down his toned stomach to his waistband. Hooking a finger underneath, you pull the elastic out and down, grazing his hard cock as you guide the sweats down his hips. holy shit, he’s big, you realize as you take it in your hand, squeezing a little.
“Fuck, y/n” he pushed his hips back into you. “Fuck can i put it in?”
He takes his dick out of your hand and into his, guiding it along your soaked pussy before he lines up the tip with your still throbbing hole. Holding it there, he hooks his other arm under your knee, lifting your leg and giving him unobstructed access to the cunt that he's been drunk on the thought of since he sat down on your desk.
You gasp when he pushes in, only the tip at first but, fuck, its enough to make you scream.
“please, Jean, please all the way”
“Shh,” he coos from the crook of your neck, “Pussy’s so good and tight, I gotta work my way in.” He says, rolling his hips into you one, two, three, more times until finally you feel his full length. Your hands tangled in his hair, all you can think about is how fucking good he’s stretching you out with his fat cock. Just like he did with his fingers, he pulls his dick all the way out of you before rewarding your soaked hole with a hard thrust back in. Over and over and over. You start to grind your hips into his, greedy for more as you let him wash over your senses.
“Please jean, oh fuck, I’m gonna cum again” you cry.
“Oh, now you’re the one begging, huh?” he’s fucking you like he’s made for you, every thrust more intoxicating than the last as he holds you up against the wall. You’re basically a ragdoll at this point, putty in his hands and he knows it, but he’s just so, so high off your fucked out face, blubbering his name while he strokes your starving pussy.
God, you’re even better than he ever imagined. He could keep this up for hours, a constant back and forth of his begging for you and your begging for him. He keeps his dick deep inside and flexes it, resting his face back in the crook of your neck and feeling you shiver at that little move.
“God, I could fuck this pussy all day, y/n. Did you know how good you feel? You knew what you were keeping from me, huh? Goddamn” His tone isn’t begging anymore, you notice. It’s dominant and in control, but still just as infatuated with you. Which is just as well, because you don’t have the sense anymore to keep up the facade of needing him to beg. God, all you wanted was for him to use you like this for hours. You had already won, he had to beg to get here. You were just fine to surrender now, and fuck did surrender feel good.
“I want you to fuck me however you want, Jean,” you barely string the sentence together. At that, the evil little glint returns. He lifts you off his cock and bends you over a desk. Expecting his dick again you gasp when its his tongue, stroking the length of your cunt then fucking it. His fingers find your finally-recovered clit and coax another orgasm out of you. Hearing your desperate panting, he grabs your hips and shoves himself back inside.
"I know, baby, it hits all the right places huh?" he groans, "Fuck" He propped his knee on the desk you were sprawled over for better leverage, getting deeper than you thought anyone could. You feel a bite behind your ear and hear him pant through another sting of profanities. He's definitely getting close- his hips start to go crazy thrusting into you wild wild abandon. "oh fuck, jean please, please cum right there!" you beg as he rams into you over and over.
His pace slows as his words start to regain a hint of whine. "yeah?" he says "you gonna let me fill you up, y/n? i fucked you good enough that you'll let me do that?"
"y-yes, ill let you, Jean, you can fill me, you e-earned it" His dick was taking such soft strokes in and out of your sensitive pussy, and you feel him flex inside you again. "ah, fuck, jean-" you couldn't even finish your exclamation as two fingers suddenly found their way into your mouth while you felt your cunt get filled.
"you like getting two holes full? hmm? maybe next time ill fill all three for you" He slides out of your stretched hole and pulls you back to sit on his lap. Looking up at him, feeling his cum leak out of you, you can't believe you ever denied yourself this. But, you were glad that you made the man who was giving you a stupid, pussy drunk smirk beg for it.
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