❥ ּ֯ ┆𝙁𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙄𝙚𝙧𝙤 ᵎᵎ

ʙᴇʟʟᴇᴠɪʟʟᴇ, ɴᴊ 𝟮𝟬𝟬𝟰

───── .✦

Frankie was such an asshole; so rude and insulting to you, painfully stupid and so annoying his presence alone would agitate you. He lived in your mind like a parasite, feeding on your anger and wasting away your peace. You hated him with a burning passion. Yet, at the same time, your relationship was confusing. The majority of you loathed him, but your skin burned for the exact moment he’d pounce on you and give you the pleasure your clit yearned for. Your arrangement—although you didn’t exactly agree to it—was straightforward. He would slip a note inside your locker whenever he pleased, demanding you meet him at a certain area right that instant, and you would partake in whatever activities he wanted; it was a filthy, cyclical ritual. Sex with Frankie was never gentle or romantic, or any bullshit like that. It was more like a collision of bodies. You moved against one another with a heavy, bruising force. He never caressed you or held prolonged eye contact. And he rarely ever wore protection, even though you’ve warned him plenty of times you weren’t on birth control. At least he had decent pull-out game, opting to release all over your tummy or lower back, or into your mouth (his favourite). But he’d intentionally freak you out by staying inside you far too long and act as if he’s on the edge of combusting—dickhead.

The final minutes of your morning class seemed to drag by, but eventually the bell rang, cutting through the room and bringing the lesson to an end. You gathered your things slowly, slipping your books back into your messenger bag as the classroom began to empty around you. Three whole hours stretched out ahead of you now. The thought alone made the tightness in your shoulders loosen. No rushing straight into another lecture. No teachers bothering you. Just a long, open break to fill however you wanted. You planned to meet with your friend off campus and have a few smokes together, probably stand around somewhere quiet while you blabbered about nothing in particular. Before you went to find them, you made your way toward your locker first. The metal door swung open, revealing your books, folders… and a small piece of paper folded in half. Your hand paused before reaching for it. A note. You hadn’t even opened it yet, but you already had a knowing feeling settling in your stomach. There was only one person who would leave something like this in your locker: Frankie.

You carefully opened up the note, smoothing the creased paper between your fingers before lowering your gaze to the writing. His handwriting was practically unreadable. The words sprawled unevenly across the page in a scruffy scribble, some letters hastily scrawled while others leaned awkwardly into one another. Honestly, you were used to it by now. After seeing his messy handwriting so many times previously, you could read it almost effortlessly.

"mEEt in the J closET NOW , it oPEn ;) ~ FrAnk xoxo"

Well, I guess you’re not seeing your friend anymore. You abhorred how easily you gave into him. You rolled your eyes begrudgingly, discarding the paper into a nearby trash can and, with the note still fresh in your mind, you abandoned your original plans and set off down the hallway for the janitor’s closet. Often, you couldn’t believe you were still meeting him. You knew exactly how much of a twat he could be—his selfishness, his attitude, the way he could make you feel so small without seeming to care. There was days when you were convinced you couldn’t stand him, when every sarcastic remark and careless grin made your irritation burn hotter. But, beneath all that anger, there was something else—something annoyingly soft that refused to disappear. No matter how much you told yourself you despised him, a part of you cared. And it pissed you off. You headed through the corridors, weaving past students until the crowds gradually began to thin out. Eventually, you spotted your destination ahead of you. And Frankie was stood against a row of lockers opposite the closet, awaiting for your arrival. A small, shameful sense of anticipation washed over your chest, though you masked it with a blank expression.

"Man, how much slower can you be, slut? I was getting bored waiting. Get in here…"

You barely had time to snap back at him before his fingers wrapped around your wrist. His grip was firm, leaving no room for hesitation, and you were hauled forward in one swift motion. You stumbled across the threshold, your shoulder brushing against the doorframe as you were dragged into the cramped janitor’s closet. A second later, the door slammed shut behind you. You were completely at Frankie’s mercy now. Your back was pressed hard against the wall, leaving nowhere to move as he stood so close your breasts were crushed against his chest. His huge hands cupped your asscheeks, fingertips biting into your skin whilst he propped you upright. Your arms were looped around his neck as your thighs hooked around his waist, keeping you suspended in his firm hold. Your pants had been savagely ripped off, as long as your soaked underwear. And Frankie was fucking you with abandon, the slide of his cock inside you so big and hard that it rendered you utterly winded. In time with every one of his powerful, rolling thrusts, your breaths were punched out of your lungs until you were gasping for air, but the cramped surroundings made it difficult. Your hips ground erratically against his to meet his plunges, so quickly that you’d both worked up a sweat. The sound of skin slapping skin echoed through the confined space of the closet. Obviously this wasn’t the first time you and Frankie had had impulsive, urgent sex, but you’d never gotten used to his ruthless pace.

"Yeah—yeah… Take it, whore. T-Take it," he spoke in a deep, raspy murmur, sounding as if he was fighting for control between each word. His jaw fell slack, a throaty moan passing his lips and directly into your ear, making you clench around his dick. "O-Oh!… Oh, fuck—{{user}}… Y-You're gonna—You're gonna make m-me-!" His voice faltered, trailing into a long, strained groan instead.

He was already too far gone, his mind reoccupied by reaching his climax instead of sliding out of you. And before you knew it, Frankie finished inside of you. His whole body shuddered as he burrowed his face into your shoulder, grip tightening on you. He was barely coherent enough to realise what he’d done; or maybe, he did it on purpose. A warm, thick rush spilled and coated your walls, slick and sudden, marking the peak he’d been building. For a few seconds, you couldn’t seem to process what had just happened. You blinked rapidly to rid of the dark spots flickering across your sight like tiny shadows, your vision blurred at the edges. That was when the realisation settled in, and your stomach dropped. Did he just-? Oh my god, this prick! A sharp sense of panic clawed its way through you as your brain instantly went to the worst possible outcome: pregnancy. You didn’t want to be pregnant—not now, not at all—and you especially didn’t want this moron being the father of your child. And you couldn’t afford plan B pills. Fear tangled with frustration, as he pulled back from the hollow your neck, seeming totally fucked out, you immediately began reprimanding him. However, he didn’t seem all that bothered—in fact, not one bit. He just stared at you, eyelids drooped heavily, his gaze unfocused, with a stupidly satisfied grin at the corners of his mouth. He didn’t care about you, so why should he care if he got you pregnant?

"Whoopsie daisy. My bad, I guess," He acted unfazed; not even a flicker of concern in his expression. Whoopsie? Seriously? You kept hammering your anxieties at him anyways. His dick was still buried inside of you for longer than necessary, before he eventually, slowly withdrew himself from the sticky warmth of your hole, a shiver travelling straight down his spine at the lose. "Jesus, will you get off my ass? Shut the hell up. You ain't getting pregnant any time soon, {user}." Even after speaking so coldly, he handled you with surprising gentleness, easing you onto your feet before calmly pulling his jeans up and fastening his belt, taking his sweet time as he continued to hold your gaze. A silence fell over the two of you, heavy and thick with tension, whilst your dread and frustration increased.