FRENZY ៸៸៸ part two
Jake is experiencing real love for the first time in his life. He’s so infatuated with you that he would do anything to make you understand. And you? Oh, you are in no place to argue with a man who appears to be perfect.
៸៸៸ part one here ៸៸៸ you must read the first part in order to understand this one!
៸៸៸ sim jake x afab reader
៸៸៸ minors dni
៸៸៸ wordcount: 14.2k
៸៸៸ genre: stalker au, dark fic, slow burn, smut
៸៸៸ content tags: switch!stalker jake, he is gross but on a plus side he’s got a big shlong, obsession, panty stealing/sniffing, toothbrush sucking, shower water tasting, jealousy, manipulation, past trauma involving sa of reader, reader is manipulated into being obsessed with him too, trauma, jake is very insane, he’s thinks you need him to fix you, reader can be lifted and carried by him.
៸៸៸ !WARNINGS! there is intense trauma, past abuse, and conflict in this fic. It’s dark with mentions of noncon and dubcon, and an instance where jake keeps going after reader faints. Everything is consenting between the two but only because he is manipulative and a bad person. if you can’t handle it, don't read it.
៸៸៸ a/n: sorry again for the way i had to post this in two parts, still i hope it was worth the wait!
៸៸៸ nsfw tags under cut
៸៸៸ nsfw tags for the whole fic, as in both chapters: masochism (jake), sadism (reader and jake), overstimulation, painful masturbation, praise, worship, dirty talk, blowjob, finger fucking, pussy eating, riding, missionary, mating press, standing up sex yayyyyy, huge giant fat cock jake, deep penetration, unprotected sex, implied breeding, choking, hair pulling, suffocation, cock warming, crying, begging, hate sex, hitting (m receiving), squirting
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
The next morning, you were late waking up to log into your work account but Jake was still there, drowsy and smiling at you from the moment you opened your eyes.
You briefly remember the early morning pouting he gave you, hard against you and lips all over you, and in turn you remember how you made a promise to yourself swiftly after rejecting his needs.
Your face heated up the second he said good morning to you, flustered over the fact that not only do you want him, but you want him to want you like that again, despite your rejection. After all, you let him sleep over, and he didn’t try to take advantage of you despite sporting an intense boner through the majority of it.
He sees the way your eyes check him out upon waking up too, but you stay silent after he gives you his good morning greeting.
���Are you hungry? I can step out and pick up some breakfast so you can work.” He offers, stretching his arms out wide and tapping you to stand up. “I’m staying again today.”
Your eyes widen at him, but the smile on your face betrays that little red flag in your head that has forced you, up to this point, to struggle to give him what he needs.
“I’d like that.” You nod to him, cheeks permanently warmed at the image of your shining boyfriend. “Sorry about last night.” You blurt now, standing up and stretching yourself.
“It’s fine love, it's just hard to keep my hands to myself sometimes.” He says, intensely watching your reaction.
You lend a pause in your stretch at those words, having heard them before when your ex did things that made your body ache for weeks. There is a pull in your gut hearing him say that before you remind yourself that they’re just words. He just really likes you, and he did stop when you told him to.
He is not your ex.
“I wouldn’t have hurt you though,” He continues, seeing you deep in thought in front of him. “If you’d have let me, I mean.”
“Jake I–” You stop yourself, feeling a flood of words on the tip of your tongue. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me.” You confirm, now moving forward to hug against him. “I would have–”
“You would?” His eyes light up, smile brighter than you’ve ever seen before.
“No, I mean,” You stutter in panic, hugging him tighter. “I would have touched you if you asked.”
His eyes go dark instantly, making his smile seem more eerie than anything as you look up at him.
“I’m okay with doing the touching, we can work our way up to the other stuff…maybe? If that’s okay?”
“Oh, baby, that’s more than okay.” He coos out, now losing his appetite for actual food and wanting nothing more than to show you just how good he could really be for you. His arms hug you tightly before releasing you, and he ushers you across the room. “We can talk about this later though, you’re already late, right?”
You nod, feeling a bit better about initially rejecting him and doing just that, moving to the small nook that holds your desk and PC and listening to him slip his shoes on.
“I’m going to grab breakfast, and I’m gonna stop by my place to grab some clothes.”
He leaves before you can answer, which is nice because part of you didn’t want to hear your own voice accepting that.
Accepting that he’s leaving right now, accepting that he’s coming back to stay another night, accepting that you feel perfectly fine with all of this despite your inner demon advising you to run.
You don’t know who you are in this moment, but what you do know is that you’re safe. That’s what’s driving you to act blatantly against what your own brain is telling you.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You’re clinging and Jake is fucking devoted to the feeling of it.
Devoted to the way your fingers, so much smaller than his own, grab him to kiss him. Devoted to the way you kiss the bruise above his brow, and the way you ask him to stay for another night, and another, and another, up until he finds himself doing his and your laundry together just so he doesn’t have to go back home to grab more clothes to rotate through.
It’s been a week since he’s been in your apartment, rolling around on your bed with you in it, cleaning himself in your shower, washing himself with your soap. It’s like only the two of you exist in this space, where he is the only one to step out and see the sun, solely so you don’t have to.
Or, solely so you can’t. He doesn’t think he’d let you at this point, now that you’re his and you prove it with each kiss and hug. All you need to do is sit and look pretty, sit and love him. That’s what your purpose is in this relationship, he will do the rest.
Given, he’s also fucked his fist each second he can get in your bathroom. But goddamn do you cling. You whine when he separates himself from you even for a moment, and day by day he can see you come closer and closer to fulfilling his need to be loved by you entirely.
Your phone hasn’t received any unsavory messages you’ve noticed as well, they haven’t needed you to come into the office, and all you can manage to think is that…you’re in love with being in this apartment with him.
Only good things happen when Jake is with you and you’re growing so attached that you’ve thought more than once to just move him in with you. Your mother would scold you, your ex would kill you, and arguably, Jake would absolutely do it.
He waits on you hand and foot. Cooking, cleaning, doing your laundry, holding you and giving you some of the best sleep you’ve had in years. You refrain from considering it seriously though, because this relationship is still so new. You don’t want to freak him out or cause an uproar in your already fucked up and unsteady life. You’re throwing yourself in like you always do, but…is it so bad when he’s doing the exact same thing?
Until he’s not, anyway.
“Love,” Jake starts, tapping his chin with the tips of his fingers as he lounges on your bed. “I need to go home today.”
Your heart immediately sinks.
“What? Why?” You ask in a voice that plainly shows your panic.
“Well,” He taps on his chin again before moving his hand through his hair. “I’m pretty sure my mailbox is probably full by now, I need to clean out my fridge, and I should probably check my course work.”
“You’re…in college?”
Jake nods with a snicker, laughing at how he’s given up his entire life for you.
“Yeah, probably won’t be soon though.” He laughs, shaking his hair out and then looking at you with big, rounded eyes. “Just for the day, I’ll be back before sunset.”
You look down in a disappointed way before nodding to him.
“Aww, babe. Don’t be like that–” He mock pouts as he turns to you, grabbing both of your cheeks and squishing them up, forcing your lips to pucker before landing a harsh kiss against them. “I’m coming right back, I promise.”
You nod again, unable to keep a smile from forming on your face.
“You’re so cute, it’s going to kill me one of these days.” He smiles back at you, hopping up and preparing himself to head back to his apartment.
What you don’t know is that, while Jake wasn’t lying and that he should at least clean out his fridge, he needed to go home.
He needs to unload the footage onto his computer, he needs to watch it back, he needs to fuck something.
And so, he does just that.
The second he gets back to his apartment, it’s almost uncomfortable. Unfamiliar scents, no warmth, rotting food in the fridge, neglected pillows and bed sheets.
Even so, it’s like he acts on instinct when he walks past everything he needs to do and lands himself at the window. His mind takes over in an instant.
It felt like so long ago when he first saw you from here, knowing you were the most beautiful, the perfect girl for him. Knowing you would love him too, and that you’d never want to leave him. He smiles at his victory, knowing that you’re sitting in that apartment right now thinking about him too. If he knew where he would be now, he thinks his former self may have very well fucked himself to death. After all, he’s felt you, tasted you, and even seen parts of you based on the little image he sent to himself from your phone. Everything happened better than he knew it would.
If it weren’t for your ex, perhaps you wouldn’t have let him stay with you in your apartment. Perhaps you wouldn’t have clinged to him so immediately.
In a way, he almost wants to thank the man before he eventually strangles the life out of him.
He’s tasted almost all of you by this point, and each moment it happened is trapped within the files of that little camera there. All of it, for him to remember. Each kiss and makeout session he made sure happened in the view of this camera, and so badly does he want to watch over and over again the moments where you gave in to him. The moments where you needed him.
He’s quick to push the camera to his pc, uploading a weeks worth of files before placing it back onto the window sill and immediately shoving his hand down his pants.
Jake shivers at the first unrestricted graze of his hand against his cock, eyebrows falling into that of probably one of the most pathetic faces he could ever make in his life. The relief is so good, so painful.
He can’t fucking help it. After jerking off multiple times a day before finding himself in your apartment with you, it’s hard to only do it once a day within a short time span of a few minutes. He felt so restricted in terms of his release, and he has so much cum to give right now. He’s aching for it. He wants to bleed it dry.
He wants you so bad at this point, seeing you dangle yourself in front of him and not yet give in to at least going down on him– he needs this. He needs it now.
Even if it’s not you touching him, he needs to release before he takes it from you. Before he does something stupid and makes you hate him forever. Before he really does become your ex. It felt like he was going insane in your apartment, surrounded by you, only wanting to fuck you, and still not getting to.
God, the footage is so grainy but it hits his cock so fucking fast. He memorized each moment as it happened, and now watching it in third person makes him feel as if he’s some sort of ghost. Like he’s having an out of body experience and can see and feel you in a completely different light.
In more ways than he already has, even.
He releases within thirty seconds, barely holding his cock when he doubles over at the footage of that very first, harsh kiss you gave him. Sensitive and twitching, his raging length spilled all in his pants, drenches them through even, as his body shakes with the need for more.
And as if it never happened, he takes a firmer hold of his cock now, fast forwarding the footage to each and every kiss, wondering how good those lips of yours would feel elsewhere on his body. How pretty your moans would sound for him, how cute your hand looked gripping your tit in that little nude of yours, how–
He comes again, forcing him to let out a choked sob and drop his head to his desk. God, it hurts. He’s so sensitive, and still, he wants you so bad. His dick is still raging, aching, and begging, especially when he thinks of how you’ve been clinging. How your hands have fucked yourself, and how badly he wants them to stay on him forever.
God he wishes your fingers could slice him open, leaving painful and love-filled reminders of not who you belong to, but of who he belongs to.
When he thinks of how he’s only doing this right now because you have your claws buried into him already, almost refusing to let him leave you, he knows he could come another four or five times within the next thirty minutes solely because you cling, and cling, and fucking cling. Fuck..
That’s so hot to him.
He’d let you cage him up in a heartbeat, he’d let you fuck his entire life up and then laugh at him for it. It’s what you deserve. To have a man willing to do anything for you, someone willing to give up everything just to hear you breathe, to have him be that person.
Third release, forcing him to hold his breath to the point of feeling faint.
The veins on his neck protrude, sweat now dripping down his brow.
It hurts, it hurts, it fucking hurts.
But it doesn’t hurt enough.
And all day he does this. Until the sun is telling him that he needs to go back to you, until his hair is drenched in sweat and his arm is sore. Until his body feels weak and his cock feels spent, raw, and still throbbing for more.
It hurts when he puts on a new pair of pants, hurts even more when he forces himself to squat in front of his fridge to clean it out, opting to toss everything into a bag rather than sifting through what’s good and what isn’t.
Now more than ever does he want you against him, knowing that he’s fucked himself half to death solely to keep himself from scaring you, and still he isn’t satisfied.
At this point, nothing will satisfy him but you. He knows this now.
He’s quick to lock up, even quicker to toss his trash, and finds himself inside of your lobby at a loss.
Goddamn his libido. Goddamn this love for you.
He can’t stop wanting you, and he can’t just fuck the need away himself at this point. He needs you to fuck his brain quiet, only you can satiate this horrifyingly deep hunger.
Waiting, watching, waiting, waiting, waiting.
He’s waited enough. He’s done waiting.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jake appears at your door right on time, and you were expecting to see his smiling face and big stretched out arms to greet you as you open the door for him.
You didn’t get that though. In fact, you found yourself frozen with the door half open as you stared at your boyfriend and the way his terrifyingly small pupils looked back at you before instantly growing twice the size. So different from this morning, heaving, lips shaking, eyes darker than they’ve ever been.
Before you can even ask why he’s looking at you like that, you learn exactly why.
“I’m going fucking insane.” Jake says shortly in a hot whisper, stepping forward and slamming the door behind him. You feel his hands on you instantly, slipping under your shirt and grabbing your waist tightly. “Can’t be away from you, can’t be with you, I can’t stand it.”
You just listen, feeling him walk you into the living room, fluttering his lips all over your face and neck, only to press you up and against the window with his entire body pinning you there with a slam.
You’re shocked, unable to do anything but listen to him and feel the way his hands grip and search your entire body for something to hold onto.
“All fucking day,” Jake seethes out angrily, pulling back from you and grabbing your face to turn it. Almost pissed that you simply exist in front of him right now. “Right there.” He says, pointing directly to his apartment. “I sat right there trying to deal with this.” He presses his hips against you, letting you feel exactly what he’s talking about. “And still, I need more.”
Your brain goes numb. Or maybe it goes hot, you’re not sure. You’ve only recently realized that he turns you on beyond belief, it’s difficult to decipher the difference between horniness and fear right now.
“Jake–” You turn back to him, now using your own hands to grab his face, forcing his eyes to steady and look at you, as if to bring him back to reality. “Do you need–”
He cuts you off with a harsh kiss, hands running up just to press you harder against the window, his hips chasing whatever he can get from you. Like he’s using you in this moment, as if you’re not real and simply a doll for him to release against and inside of.
He’s fucking gone. Outside of himself, and you, and the universe as a whole.
“What I need,” He says, pulling back and stating in an almost demanding tone. “Is for you to take care of me.”
You knew this would come sooner or later, and you’d been trying to work up the courage to do it. You’ve run his patience dry, and you guess it’s now or never at this point.
“Just tell me.” You whisper submissively, wanting to give him whatever he needs solely so that he won’t leave you.
You see his expression soften within a split second, his hips release their pressure against you, and he pulls his hands back.
“Fuck.” He lets out apologetically, demeaning himself for losing his control and being so blatant. Pointing out his fucking apartment to you. “Baby, I’m sorry, I–”
You’ve already made your decision, understanding exactly why your boyfriend broke his composure. This past week proved enough to you that he wasn’t in it to fuck you, and even though his needs weren’t being met, he still worked hard to meet yours, you feel…
Yeah, you’re happy he did this. Even the force didn’t scare you entirely. The only thing that scares you is him leaving you over this. And he watches as you do it, sinking to your knees and reaching out to hook your fingers into the loops on his pants.
“Baby,” He warns you, feeling you pull him straight to you. “Wait, wait.”
You don’t, knowing that if you were to stop now you might end up talking yourself out of doing this again.
“No,” You shake your head, lifting on your knees just to rub your cheek against the length in his pants. “Let me take care of you, I’ve neglected you enough.”
God, he fucking buckles. Dropping right to his knees in front of you, pulling you in by the face, and kissing you as hard as he possibly can. His entire body quivers, bursting in a euphoric sense of arousal as the hairs rise on his body at the very image of you on your knees for him.
“You’re so good to me,” He mumbles through kissing you. “So, so good to me.”
And you just let yourself feel it. Intensely, to the point that even your stomach flips at knowing what’s about to happen.
Strangely enough, it flips in a good way. You haven’t felt like this in years, and it brings so much glee to you knowing that Jake is right here, willing to let you make him feel good. Willing to let you feel these things again, willing to make you feel good if you work up the courage to ask for it. And most of all, he’s staying.
“Stand up then.” You whisper in a smile. “I’ll take care of you, so don’t run back home to do it yourself anymore.”
Jake shakes his head with a smirk, happy to get what he not only wants at this moment, but what he so desperately needs.
“I did that for you, and look where it got me.” He says, standing and staring down at you. “Nothing will ever satisfy me, only you can.”
You chuckle shyly, reaching up to fumble with his button only to have him take over for you, dropping his pants and gripping himself.
“Don’t be so sure though.” You swallow around a lump in your throat at the size of him, proving why you were always able to feel it and not quite ignore it. “I don’t have a lot of practice with this.”
Oh, could you be any more perfect? Any more fucking endearing? With those pretty eyes staring down what he wants to put in you so bad, not even knowing how he’s only ever gotten this hard for you and you alone. Fuck, he could give it to you so good, he could fill you until you can’t breathe, he could keep you forever.
You look so pretty like this, with your lips trembling as you wet them, with the way your smaller hands swat him away as if to ask him to let you try and hold it yourself.
He could shoot his load right now if you asked him to, looking so fucking docile on the floor for him. He needs to look away, he needs to prepare for this.
“I don’t know if I can, um,” You start, gripping him and noting that he’s thick, there’s no way it will all fit in your mouth without absolutely suffocating you. “Jake, I genuinely don’t know if I can fit all of it.”
He lends you a short chuckle as he takes in a breath, his fingers going down to tip your chin up at him. You feel it pulse in your hand as he looks at you, almost feeling his quickened heartbeat through the vein that runs up the underside of it.
“Love, I don’t need it to fit.” He smiles, pressing it harder into your palm. “Even this is enough right now.” He lies, pressing his hips forward as if to show you that he’s lying.
He needs it to fit so bad.
You eye him down, feeling the twitch release a little dribble of precum that rolls down and onto your circled fist. It’s been a long time since you’ve looked at another person this way, wanting to taste it, almost needing to.
Rubbing your legs together, almost uncomfortably, you swallow again as you keep your eyes trained on his before glancing back down. You pull your hands back just to see the way it drops. God, it’s so heavy. You can imagine he’s full of resentment for how long it’s taken you to simply look at it. His cock rages at you, darkened in color and glistening in the light of the setting sun through the window.
All you can do is stare.
And all Jake can do is stare too, watching you do math in your head of what you need to do with him. He’d take anything, fucking anything, from you right now.
“Mm,” Jake hums for a moment, grabbing your hand and squeezing it tighter. “Like this.” He instructs.
“I know how to give a hand job, you know.” You roll your eyes playfully, despite totally forgetting how to do it now that, you know, you want to.
“Yeah, don’t tell me that.” He warns, annoyed that you’d even say that right now. “Just, grip me harder–” He closes his eyes, pretending that you’ve never touched a cock that wasn’t his own, noting how your hands have always been gentle with him, save for that day you dragged him around by the shirt in a kiss.
You listen, trying to grip the girth of it as tightly as you can while dragging your hand forward and back, forcing little grunts out of him.
“Yeah,baby–” he encourages you, “Just like that.” He continues to lose himself to the feeling in soft moans, blinking down and now moving his hips in your grasp, fucking forward a bit harder. “Use your other hand too..”
You listen intently, never having to use both hands on a man like this before. You try to squeeze him, offering as much pressure as you can as he swivels his hips forward and back, slicking your hands up nice and wet with his precum. Unbelievable how much he has, actually.
You look up when he lolls his head back in a drawn out moan, staring at the expanse of his neck and the way it tenses when he swallows around the same moan. And then, suddenly, in a split second he hangs his head back down and looks at you as if he can see everything you are, everything you ever have been, and everything you ever could be. You gasp at his expression, feeling totally lost and in awe when you see that gaze go dead as he stares back.
His lips fall slack when his hips pick up pace, essentially fucking your fists rather than letting you do the work. And when you glance away from him, tuning in to the consistent pre-cum spilling out of him, he sees you lick your lips.
He watches, he sees you want it.
So, very gently, he places one of his hands on the back of your head, encouraging you to do it. And it’s like he can taste colors when you let him and instantly wrap your lips around the big, swollen head of his leaking length.
The half-moan-half-amazed-chuckle that falls out of him only comes from the fact that you instantly stretch your lips around it, lapping at his tip in an almost hungry way.
“God, fuck–” He keeps his head hanging forward, watching intently as you take him further and further into your mouth, up until you release one hand and grasp his thigh to hold onto. “I’ve dreamed of this.” He admits, shocked that you’re really going to do this for him.
You blink up at him, trying to smile around the heavy length pressing your tongue down. If you’re going to do this, the least you can do is make sure he fucking loves it. Not to mention, the fact that you’re also enjoying it only drives you to do more. Like the wall inside of you has been shattered and nothing could ever stop you from wanting him in any and every way possible.
He smiles through a deep groan at the way your lips still curl around him.
Never in his fucking life did he imagine you smiling while sliding his cock down your throat. Really, you did that entirely on your own and somehow, he feels even more insane than he did walking into your apartment earlier.
You’re making it fit, and all he can do is help you, now bracing that same hand on your head and pressing further into your mouth..
More, more.
And when he feels your fingernails dig into his thigh and his cock hit the back of your gagging throat, he chokes out, eyes tearing up, and he sobs out your name in a desperate attempt to compliment you for it.
That sound alone from him went straight through you, igniting a long awaited arousal within your belly. You feel the drip, relishing in the feeling of being wet for the first time in fucking years. He’s so big, and he’s so suffocating. You want to do this, you want to hear him cry out your name again.
Even when he tries to pull his hips back, you grab onto him and hold his hips in place, pushing your lips further down, depressing your tongue even more as the thickest part of him cuts off your airways. Your throat restricts around him, and you feel proud of it. Proud of choking on him, happy to keep doing it.
He stutters in awe, gripping the windowsill with his free hand and using the other to feel your hollowed out cheeks. Shit, you’re going to taste him, he’s going to give you all of it, he’s going to–
Shocked, floored, entirely drunk for you, all he can do is watch as you choke. His body did not warn him at all when his cum shoots into your throat, warming your belly with that first swallow around him.
Your reaction to it is immediate though, as he watches with half-crossed eyes the way you pull off of him and let his cum spurt out and drip all over your face. Down those beautiful cheeks, onto your plush lips, and down your neck.
It won't stop. He just keeps coming. His entire body trembles as he stares at you, and you stare back before closing one eye due to the fact that there is now cum in your eyelashes, and you fucking smile at him.
The image alone keeps him hard as his body finally stops twitching. You, there on your knees, smiling up at him drenched in him.
“Baby,” He soothes out with a raspy tone. “Fuck, you didn’t have to do–”
“I’m wet. Jake.” You smile, as if you’re admitting this to him to gain some sort of congratulations for it. And in a way, you are. He has no idea how amazing it is to you right now that you can feel your panties go sticky. It feels amazing to admit to him, actually.
It’s so relieving, it’s so warm, it’s something you never should have missed out on in the first place.
“What?” He asks with uneven breath, dropping to his knees in front of you again, rubbing the cum into your skin with his thumb as he caresses your face. “You are?”
You beam at him, smiling with a nod.
“Really?” He asks again, in disbelief because this was all it took?
You nod again, leaning back on your arms and watching him follow, hovering over you and slotting himself between your legs with a hungry gaze.
“Can I feel?” He asks abruptly, crawling over you to the point that your back hits the side table behind you, keeping you from lying all the way down.
And you nod before you think about it. Wondering if this is how it’s always supposed to be. Always willing, always wanting, always needing.
He stares at you when you nod, glancing down to your middle then back at you as if to gain another confirmation.
You nod again, this time wanting to hide your face in your arms. You anticipate it, wondering what it’ll feel like to be touched there again by a hand that isn’t your own after all this time. And when you feel his shaking hand dip into your sweat pants, you don’t even shutter. You don’t shy away.
You’re surprising yourself even, letting out a gasp when he cups your core and looks down at you with a cautious smile.
“You’re dripping, baby.” He smiles as he balances himself on one arm over you, rubbing his hand back and forth and memorizing the dips and folds he can feel through this flimsy fabric. Then, his more intrusive thoughts spill in an unintentional and needy groan. “Fuck, I bet you’re so tight.”
Words that would make you recoil are no longer scaring you. You can tell he wants to apologize for saying it too, but goddamn, you loved hearing it. In fact, your entire body pulses at the words, feeling his hand do nothing more than hold you there and gently rub. His eyes are pleading though, with his lips pouting as he relishes in thoughts of probably fucking his fingers into you just to see if he’s right.
Or maybe it’s just you hoping that’s what he’s thinking about. You can’t help the way you clench, letting out a strained breath as you lurch forward and hug him around his neck, squeezing so tightly as you whisper against the shell of his ear.
“You can touch me– if you want.” You whisper, physically feeling the goosebumps against his neck raise to your lips. “Just go slow.”
You still need to go slow, after all, you don’t know how your brain may react to this, despite loving it at the moment. Relishing in the fact that someone managed to make you feel horny again. You feared that you never could again. God, he’s amazing.
“I’ll go so slow for you,” He whispers back, twisting his hand in your pants to hook his fingers around your panties to pull them to the side. “Oh, baby, you really do want this, don’t you?” He whispers again upon really feeling you drip, trying to slide his fingers through the slick mess before rubbing circles around your hole. He’s lost his train of thought now, only able to feel one sense at a time so that he can fucking memorize how you coat his fingers entirely.
He moans again from deep in his chest along with you, despite knowing you’re the only one feeling the pleasure of his fingers. You feel his moan vibrate through his throat when you kiss him there, anticipating what it’s going to feel like when he slides a finger in.
And it’s like you see stars when he does, slowly pressing one into you as he wraps his other arm around your waist to hold you in place, sitting back on his knees and forcing you to stand on your own infront of him.
There he holds you as if he’s afraid you’ll start to fight, relishing the feeling of your wet walls hugging his finger all while you cling to him through it. He was right, you are tight despite how wet you’ve gotten. It’s almost like you’re a virgin despite knowing that you’re not.
Your body is reacting this way for him, and you’re hugging him, and your pussy is clenching for him. He just knows that if he manages to fit his cock into you, he’d fucking lose it. You’d squeeze him so tight, and he’d fuck it so deep. Fill you up, deeper, deeper, until the only name you know is his.
He’s losing it again, hearing your little whispered moans against his ear, hanging on him like a fucking pet, god, he wants you to squeeze the fucking blood out of him. You’re being so compliant, so submissive, so–
“Do you even know…” He starts babbling, trying to silence his thoughts by giving them straight to you as his finger slides out, eagerly shoving two back in at a much quicker, much harsher pace. “How much I’ve dreamed about this?”
You shake your head noting how he’s already mentioned dreaming of you once. The thought has you spreading your legs out to feel how deep his fingers reach inside of you. There’s no pain involved in this, despite his pace not being nearly as slow as he said he would go. You’re not upset, you want him to go faster, you want him deeper, you want to hear him talk.
“So many times, baby, so many times.” He soothes himself more than you through these words, losing himself more and more each second to the feeling of your core clenching his fingers. “You’re even prettier to me right now,” He continues to babble, listening to you hum in his ear at the pleasure you feel. “I want you to take everything from me.”
“I want you to wrap your legs around my neck, I want you to rub my nose in it, I want you to suffocate me, I want—”
“Shit, Jake.” You moan out his name for the first time at the dirty words. They’re a lot to take in only because you know it truly is a lot, or rather, it should be. But you fucking want that too. You want everything from him, you want everything he wants. Everything. “What else?” You urge him to keep talking.
“I want you to pull my hair,” He says, instantly feeling your fingers slide up his neck and into the thick of it, tugging immediately. “I want you to make it fit here too.” He continues, curling his fingers inside of you, thrusting his own hips against the dense air in your apartment.
You moan again at his hot words. You’re overwhelmed by how much you want more, how much you’d let him, right here, right now.
“Keep going,” You sing out, feeling it in your stomach and knowing that this familiar feeling is so much better than you’ve ever felt before. “Tell me, Jakey, fuck–” You continue, huffing at the way his fingers quicken even more.
“Sound so pretty saying my name, fuck,” He groans now, more level than before as he feels your legs close around his arm, fingers relentlessly hitting the soft spot inside of you. “Tell me that I’d never hurt you, that only I can make you feel like this.”
You nod aggressively as your brain hits a wall, unable to fulfill his request. Every muscle in your body tenses in pleasure as you begin to shake, moving your own hips against his fingers and tugging his hair harder without intention.
He moans out at how tight you hold him, wanting nothing more than to lay you out and bury himself into you, to feel your pussy jerk him off.
“Feels so good, baby, right?” He continues to talk, feeling your tight walls try to push his fingers out with each threat of your build up, his mind is spinning. “Say it–” He stutters, feeling his own body react the same way yours is. “Fuck, please, say that you’re mine.”
“I’m yours.” You whisper out of breath against his ear, the hot breath sending him overboard as he immediately pulls his fingers from you and grips his cock instead, ignoring your whimper of the lost build up.
“Yeah,” He cries out, thrusting his hips against his hand. “So let me– please, please let me.”
His face looks so broken when you stare at him in shock, eyes pleading for you to give him all of it. To give him everything right now. How could you fucking say no to that expression? How could you ever say no to him?
And still, with your orgasm half-fulfilled, you’re entirely enamored with the way you instantly want it too. As if you’re rushing head first into a brick wall with him, and you stop just to think for a moment.
Should you?
Do you intend to keep this man forever? Do you want him to leave? Would you be able to picture a day without him?
It confirms in your brain right then and there. You do intend to keep him. You don’t want him to leave. You could never picture a day without him at this point.
If he wants to have sex with you right now? Why not? You’re sure that if he is truly wanting to stay, sooner or later you’ll feel him pumping inside of you. Why should it matter that it happens now rather than tomorrow? Or next week? Or even next month?
Instantly upon your snap decision, you stand on shaking legs, watching him watch you. His hand gripping himself harshly to prevent a pathetic and untouched orgasm, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy.
You smile, dropping your pants, panties, and then lifting your shirt right up and over your head. All he does in response is wince, grip the base of his cock harder, and try to focus on not spilling and wasting his cum on your floor. Brain only slightly trying to distract him with the idea of grabbing those sticky panties to suck them clean.
“Really?” He chokes, out of breath and standing up, swiping your panties up quickly and crumpling them in his hand.
Then, you feel one hand on you after he drops his length, and the other rubbing those same wet panties against your skin, as if he has a death grip on them and you. Still, he walks you right back to the window and against it, speaking in that same, needy and shaking breath. “Baby, are you sure?”
You look away, feeling vulnerable and shy but so willing, so ready when you nod and throw your leg around his waist as if to tell him that you’re more than sure.
He gives you a breathy chuckle, pulling back just to lift his shirt off of him, hang your panties at the base of his cock, and then he grabs your leg and holds it in place. “Right here?”
He can’t tell if he’s even alive right now, with your pussy sitting spread open right up against him as you let him hold you here, your ass is probably looking great for the camera right now. Your panties feel so good in their rightful place, dangling just in front of his balls. You feel so good in your rightful place, right up against the wall with him trapping you here.
You nod again, pressing your hips forward, proving to him how hungry you feel for him right now. Finally feeling dirty and not hating yourself for it.
“Right here.” You confirm, tuned into his lips and leaning forward to lick against them. “That’s what you want, right?”
He’s stunned by how you take control while still being somehow submissive to him about it. Almost like you’re shaming him for wanting it, almost like you don’t want to admit that you want it too.
“Is that what you want?” He asks, trying hard not to think about how you’ve shifted entirely within the span of however long it’s been since the two of you started this. Is this how you act when you're horny?
“How could I not?” You confirm again with a confident tone, watching your boyfriend break in front of you. “Look at you.”
Jake can’t bear to look at himself, he knows he looks just about as pathetic as he’s always wanted. Never quite able to feel pathetic enough to satisfy him, only now understanding why he chased and chased the feeling to have you like this.
Controlling whether he can stick his dick in you, controlling whether he can fuck off and die.
That’s how it’s supposed to be in a relationship, but somehow it’s something else between both of you. For him, it’s like you’ve intentionally edged him for an entire week and for you it’s like you finally have control over your own sexuality again.
You feel powerful, and Jake wants to be entirely at your mercy.
“No one has ever wanted me this bad and waited.” You finally say to his intense and loving stare. “I want to give you anything you want.”
If he had a tail, it would be wagging so fast right now. It’s like he’s being given a treat for being exactly who you needed him to be, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop doing it.
“I could wait longer,” Jake mumbles, inching his lips to yours and letting his other hand cup one of your tits. “You could make me suffer,” He continues, whispering it right into your mouth. “Could lock me up and starve me of it.”
You lean your face back, a little shocked at his choice of words there.
“So you meant those things you said earlier?” You ask, remembering how he babbled on about wanting you to suffocate him, about how he wanted you to take everything from him.
“Do you want me to be honest?” He counters, now pressing his hips forward and letting his cock weep against your thigh.
You nod to him.
“I want you to take it all out on me.” He admits, gripping your tit in his hand tighter, hiking your leg up higher. “I want you to control every aspect of my life.”
Honestly, it shouldn’t be a thought that brightens your brain but it does. It sounds toxic, and you can’t even tell if he’s saying this just because he’s horny and is about two seconds from slamming you up and against this window with the force of his cock alone. Somehow, you love the thought of all of it.
“Every aspect?” You ask with interest. “What do you mean?”
He chuckles as he hangs his head, watching his length pulse constantly against your thigh and the panties hanging off of it. Only then does he release your tit and use your panties as a way to position his cock up, lining up with the wet of your core that is only for him.
“It means–” He starts, sliding into you with a paused moan, hiccuping slightly as he furrows his brows. “I want you to make me cry for you.” He continues with a tilt to his head as he watches the way you wince at all of the strength he has to hold you up like this, to slide into you like this. “I want you to hurt me, and I want you to love doing it.”
He bottoms out after that, holding you in place and feeling your walls struggle to adjust to the tight fit.
“It’s what you deserve.” He soothes out to you, kissing you once. “To take someone the same way you’ve been taken.”
You recoil instantly, pussy restricting in horror at the reminder of why you never do this with another person, but god the way he lifts on his toes just to plunge somehow deeper into you. The way his lips trap you even more, the way his force is nothing but fucking amazing to feel. All you can do is moan, bump your head against the window, and squeeze him.
“You said you wanted to give me what I want–” He slides out of you just a little bit. “So, can you?” He pushes back in, listening to you get wetter at his words and feeling your answer when you can’t seem to speak for yourself.
“I said I’d never hurt you, love,” He coos out this time, watching your body shift up against the window as he picks up some sort of rhythm, taking you the way he’s always wanted you. Right here, against the window. “But I never said that you couldn’t hurt me.”
Why the fuck is that so hot? God, why does a man like Jake offer you so much? Why is he doing this to you? Why is he doing it to himself? Why do you love it?
You find yourself nodding as you moan out, still not quite adjusted to his size and the way he made it fit into you in such a…pleasurable way. It doesn’t hurt at all, it feels good.
“Yeah, I knew you would.” He continues to talk as if he’s not internally losing it, but months worth of pretending, several orgasms today alone, and having your pussy hugging him just as tightly as he knew it would? That’s helpful.
And now, as your fingers grip at him through his harsh and deep thrusts, all he can do is hold your leg against him, lean forward, and stare directly into his apartment window. As if he’s mocking his former self, as if everything in the world has fallen into place. You wouldn’t leave him now, never, you’d be just as stupid as everyone else if that were the case.
He has faith in you, in himself, in this, and the way you drip all over him.
He knew you’d be perfect for him.
It doesn’t take long, really, for him to pull an orgasm out of you when he’s doing it this good. In fact, you don’t even have to reach a hand down to help pull it out of you by the time your body begins to stiffen up at it.
His pace is slow, his cock is deep, and fuck his entire body is on you. You couldn’t squeeze your hand down if you tried, in fact, you don’t think he’d even consider letting you do any of this on your own.
His grip is so strong, you can feel your sweat stick to the window as you slam your head down on his shoulder, sliding up and down the window with each of his powerful thrusts.
It feels so good to do this again.
“Jake–” You hiccup against his neck, listening to his heaved and choked breaths through each thrust. “I wish I had done this sooner.” You manage to get out, body tensing and relaxing by the minute with the threat of an orgasm. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”
And honestly, you don’t know what’s gotten into you, nor do you fucking care. If you want to cry, you’ll fucking cry. It’s been too long since your tears hit you out of pleasure, or happiness, or fucking safety. At this rate, you’ll never let this man go.
“I know baby, I know.” He soothes you, arms shaking as he holds you up and thrusting in as deep as he can go.
You feel him stutter in his pace, his hips stopping as you feel his heavy cock pulsate against your clenching walls.
“Are you close?” He says, pulling back and looking at you. “Is that why you’re sorry?”
You look at him with glassy eyes, smiling dazed at him as you shake your head.
“No,” You smile wider, running your hands up and into his hair, remembering what he asked for before. You tug, forcing his head to tilt back so that you can attach your lips to him. “I’m saying it because I want you to always make me feel this good.” You whisper against his pulse point, kissing it hard.
You feel him lose composure at that, his hips immediately moving again, slamming up and into you so hard that you can’t even hold your head still enough to kiss him there again.
“Ah, fuck,” He whimpers out, “why would you fucking say that to me right now?” He continues, relentlessly fucking himself against the soft and sensitive spot inside of you. “You still make me feel so insane, only you could do this to me.”
You smile, having learned that he appears to love the torture anyway.
“You love it though, don’t you Jakey?” You say, loving the way he loses it for you, learning how badly he’s wanted this, seeing him intend to stay.
And at those words, he can’t take it anymore. Fuck the camera, fuck anything else in the world that isn’t you. He ignores that wince on your face when he slips out of you, ignores the way the panties fall from his length, and focuses entirely on the way you hug him as he carries you straight to the couch.
Right there, he drops you and watches the way your tits bounce at the motion.
“I’m fucking obsessed with you.” He says, feeling the arousal run through his veins, knowing you’d love to hear him say that while never knowing just how true it is. “How are you real?”
You smile, hiding your face as you feel his hands hold your thighs open. You know what he’s looking at, and you can’t force yourself to see him do it. Solely because you know it’s going to swell your heart so big that you’d only fear the day he wants to leave it empty.
And you don’t respond either, because you can’t. His fingers are spreading you open and you can hear him drop to his knees yet again for you. You wan’t to look so bad, but still, you fear the love in his eyes.
You fear and want all of it.
He hears the sharp inhale you give when he spreads you out, really inspecting the single spot on your body that no one on this earth should ever see aside from him.
“This is where it hurt the most, isn’t it?” He asks, staring into the hole he’s already fucked, watching it beg him for more despite his words that probably stab your soul.
You’ll never understand how he can take your pain and turn it into something you don’t mind hearing though. Yes, that’s where it hurt the most, and still, that’s where you want him the most.
“Yeah, baby?” He asks again, reaching an arm up and forcing you to look at him. “This is what you were so afraid of?” He continues, dipping down and rubbing his face directly into the folds and inhaling a deep breath.
“Y-yeah.” You choke out at the feeling, in awe of how you knew his eyes would make you terrified. He still stares up at you as he does it, pointing his glare straight through you and into your fucking spirit.
Only Jake can make you fear nothing else in this world aside from the thought of losing him.
“I’ll make it better,” He says, boosting his ego at the way your legs wrap around his head. “You’ll always want me here,” He continues, cooing out with each taste and lick of your budding arousal. “You’ll never want me to stop–”
No man has ever wanted you this bad while having you, even as you experienced the trauma of just that. Your ex wanted you physically, but something about the man drying to drown himself in your pussy right now makes you feel like he wants you on a level far deeper than what’s possible.
He’s eating you out like he wants to eat you whole. Like he could devour you, and never spit you out of his mouth.
“Shit, shit–” You moan, hands shooting down to his hair yet again, finding yourself loving the way his grown-out roots feel softer than the harsher dyed section of his hair. You tug harder than you have before, feeling his tongue search and yearn for everything you have to offer him.
“Mhm.” He mumbles with a mouth full of pussy, rolling his eyes back at how you do just as he suggested before. Rubbing his nose in it, letting him continue to lose himself in the point of all of his problems.
And it’s as if you forgot that this only happens to reach a point of coming. The experience alone feels like one long and drawn out orgasm already, it doesn’t take anything at all for him to get you there.
It’s like he already knows it too, because you go entirely silent with a held breath as he holds your hips and buries his tongue deep inside of you. He wants to feel it, he wants to taste it. And he suffers for it, really, neglecting his own cock and knowing he’s going to come through this alone anyway.
As expected, he does. Upon the first gush of your slick hitting his tongue, his cock pulses, his balls squeeze up, and he can feel it shoot out of him each time your pussy shakes against his suffocated mouth.
And your hands, so perfect in his hair, pulling without even knowing. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, this is more than he could have ever asked for.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
By this point in your relationship, the two of you have moved so quickly that it doesn’t even scare you. In fact, if it slowed down at any point, you’d probably be preparing a suicide note simply because you don’t want to be in this world without Jake.
Since the first time you got intimate with him, it’s like it hasn’t stopped. You’re shocked at his thirst for you and even more shocked that someone so fucking perfect would waste his breath on you even for this long.
It hasn’t been that long, really, since the first time you touched him. A few days at most, but it’s like that moment solidified a lot for the two of you.
One, he’s not going to be sleeping in his own bed anytime soon or, ever, really. Two, you’ve learned through at least two more sessions of Jake’s mouth on you that he really does want you to live up to his requests. He makes it known how badly he wants you to make him suffer, how badly he needs you to give him everything he wants. Thankfully, he’s patient with your reluctance. And Three, your ex is no longer a threat.
Each message you receive, you just hand your phone to Jake and he takes care of it.
It doesn’t even translate in your head that you’ve been barred from answering your mother’s calls until the police show up at your door for a wellness check. Where, of course, Jake answers,
“Yeah, she’s here.” You hear his voice as you lay flat against your bed, heaving breaths as if he didn’t just have the tip of his dick in you. “Why?” You hear him question.
A few more muffled words and you hear the door close and his footsteps making his way to your room.
“Cops.” He dead-pans, “Your mom thinks you're dead.” he adds with an eye roll.
Your internal panic, a feeling you had once been so accustomed to that now feels almost foreign, takes over your body.
“Fuck, my mom!” You say in a fast breath, rushing onto your feet and throwing on a pair of his soiled sweatpants.
Jake hangs back but listens to your conversation from your hallway, listening intently to how you speak to other men, cops or not.
“Yeah,” You say, scratching your temple with shame. “I guess I didn’t realize she was calling me so much.”
Try five times a day.
“I’ll call her now, sorry for wasting your time.” You continue with that nervous chuckle that you used to use on him during your dates.
And then you’re back in the room, looking at him with a raised brow.
“Why didn’t you tell me my mom has been calling?” You ask, a little annoyed that it’s gotten to the point of freaking your mother out.
Jake shrugs, then looks at you apologetically.
“I don’t like when she forces you to talk about it.” He finally says, sulking his shoulders and huffing out. “I don’t like that she tells you to be careful around me.”
You roll your eyes, relieved that he’s just being himself and wanting to keep you happy.
“Still, you should have told me. She’s going to have a fucking heart attack thinking he showed up at my work place again.”
Jake’s entire brain stops working, his body going rigid as if the cold air outside is hitting him in full force.
Your eyes immediately widen as you slam your hand over your mouth. Fuck, you forgot that you told her in a hushed tone, explaining that it’s okay. That Jake wouldn’t let anything happen to you.
Fuck.
“He what?” Jake says, dumbfounded at the slip of your words.
“Jake, wait–” You try to get an explanation but he’s not having it.
“You haven’t been at work, what do you mean he showed up?” He glares, chest heaving as his heart rate picks up.
“It was from that day when you first stayed over,” You look at the floor apologetically. “I didn’t want to talk about it…” You trail off, feeling his energy hit you in the face at how he’s completely shifted from that loving, soft boyfriend you’re so used to.
“You kept that from me!?” He seethes out in disbelief. This whole time he thought he fucked your ex up enough to prove what would happen if he even fucking tried it. By you explaining that it happened just after Jake found him, that’s a direct insult.
A threat.
A fucking death wish.
“I didn’t–” You stutter trying to explain yourself. “I didn’t think it would matter since you were here. You were keeping me safe.”
“You lied to me?” He continues interrogating you, coming up to you and practically demanding an answer through his eyes.
You look away, nodding.
“You said you wanted me to keep you safe, what would have happened if you had to go to work again?” He drones on and on, seemingly stuck on the fact that you didn’t tell him. “What would happen if they called you to go in today?”
Already you’re starting to cry, feeling stupid for not making a bigger deal out of it. To be fair, not talking about it helped and you did intend to tell him at some point. That just…never happened.
“I would have asked you to stay with me at work.” You say, feeling numb as the fear of losing the man in front of you steals your every thought. “I’d have not gone. I’d have quit. I don’t know!”
Jake backs down at your words, only able to soften his rage if you’re the one who causes it.
“Baby,” His soft voice shocks you when you feel him come back to himself, as if to comfort the fear he just instilled in you. “I’m not mad.”
Yes he is, you know he is.
“Now you’re the one lying.” You argue, pushing him away only to feel his grip on you tighten.
“Am I?” He asks, urging you to keep talking. “Are you mad at me now?” He continues, intentionally pushing your buttons.
“Mad that I should have already known?”
“Mad that I didn’t let you talk to your mom?”
“Mad that I’m keeping you safe, while you keep putting yourself in the position to be hurt by him again?”
You stare at the floor.
“Mad that this is your fault?”
Yeah, you are mad.
“Fuck you, Jake.” You break, feeling his strangling fingers on your skin scratch and leave welts when you force yourself away from him. “Fuck you for all of that.”
“What else?” He presses, hanging on specific words. “Fuck me for what else?”
You just stare at him, and he can see the anger in your eyes.
“For not being there when it happened?” He asks gently. “For not killing him when I had the chance?”
When he had the chance.
“What do you–” You try to ask, but he just continues, closing back in on you.
Somehow, you need it, despite wanting to pull away every time.
“Fuck me for wanting this from you, right?” He says, much closer to you and dipping down to kiss you. “Fuck me for wanting you to be this mad, hmm?”
You break again, something deep within you spiraling into a different type of insanity you’ve never felt. You don’t feel trauma, you don’t feel scared, you feel…enraged.
“Fuck me for thinking you look perfect,” He whispers against your lips. “Fuck me to fuck me, fuck me to fight me, fuck me.”
The repeated words fit into your brain like they belong there. Like this anger is supposed to be filling you with pleasure rather than dread. Like you’re supposed to feel just as in love as you are mad.
“Just fuck me, baby.”
And god fucking dammit. How does he crawl into the depths of your brain, like a fucking roach, and kiss all of the areas you don’t know exist? How the fuck does he wake shit up inside of you that you never dreamed of having, or feeling, or wanting.
“I hate you.” You say, and meaning it too.
Because you don’t think you’ve ever loved someone more than you do now.
“Yeah, I bet you do.” He smiles, dipping his hand down into the sweats you put on and sliding into the same slick he had spilling out of you just before the pigs showed up. “I love it.” He chuckles against your lips when you refuse to moan at his touch.
You’re pushing against every good feeling inside of you right now, thinking only of how this rage spills out of you and against his fingers.
“So wet to hate me–” He says, pressing and pressing and pressing for you to just fucking– “Hit me.”
He sees your eyes shine at the very thought of how badly you must want to do that, unknowing of how much he wants it too. Needing it almost.
And oh, the moan he lets out when your weak hands raise to shove him back. He plays off of it, stumbling back to your bed just to fall on it. Waiting, knowing you’ll come take him for all he’s worth.
“Come on, love.” He encourages you. “Make me sorry.”
You hate him, and you hate that you love it. Love that he loves it, fucking adore that he wants this, he wants to let you do whatever you want to him.
To kick, cry, scream, release everything that’s been trapped in your head for years.
You don’t even falter, feeling it bubble up and overtake every thought. Dripping down your legs as if this is the only way you could ever fulfill your own pleasure again. Only now to you slide the pants back off of you, so horny out of your mind that all you can manage is to feel these emotions drip for him.
He watches you straddle him bare from the waist down, sees your breath shaking, and your lips quivering.
Jake knew you had it in you.
“Take them off.” You demand, rolling your eyes at the way he looks up at you with pure bliss.
“Hit me first.” He offers, feeling his cock strained against his own pants that he haphazardly threw on when he heard the knock at your door. “Hit me, and I’ll fuck the hate out of you.” He lies.
“Take them off.” You repeat, cold hands reaching down as you do it yourself, lifting just enough to shove them down far enough.
And god, the breath is knocked clean out of him with the way you just take him. You slide down perfectly, bottoming him out in one motion. He can see now that you need this perhaps even more than he does.
“God, come on baby.” He moans, feeling you just sit still on him.
“Jake,” You warn, running your cold hands up to his neck on instinct. “Shut up.” You squeeze.
The smile that forms on his face is pornographic at best, and drunk at worst. You see him love every instant of it, and you don’t want to admit that you do too.
You didn’t know it would feel so good to have a man’s neck in your hands, squeezing it just to shut him up. Releasing it just to hear him gasp out a praise.
“So good,” He praises, eyebrows knitted together as he loses himself to the way your pussy chokes his length. You’re not even fucking him, you’re just– “So perfect.” He continues, nearly wailing out at the immense love he feels inside.
And then, you do. You hit him. Power hungry and entirely at a loss for your own pleasure, you land a harsh and loud slap right against his face, only for him to moan louder.
Only for him to fuck up.
Only for him to grip your sheets so tight that you hear a rip.
Again. You slap him, feeling your anger slowly fizzle with each frantic moan he gives back.
Again, and again.
“Shit, you love that, don’t you?” He manages to say, feeling his cheeks sting with red-hot passion, only to be hit again, and again. “God, make it hurt.”
At this point, you know that you could never give him enough as the rage leaves your body entirely and it’s replaced with nothing but the need to just….fuck him. Never in your life have you ever been blinded by a need so badly, save for safety.
And you have that now, don’t you? You have Jake now, right where you want him, right he wants to be. He wants you to feel this, he made you feel this.
The first bounce felt like pure agony, slamming his cock into you by your own force, feeling him stretch you open, hearing it slap and echo against the walls.
“Make it hurt?” You finally say, pinching his cheeks together and forcing him to look at you. “I don’t think I could hurt you enough if I tried.” You admit, quite truthfully, mind you.
Jake gives you a crooked smirk.
“Try it anyway.” He coos, feeling the way you repeatedly arch your back just to ride him faster. “Could fill you up, right here, right now, flip you over and make you take it if you’re so worried that you can’t.”
It runs through you like a cold shiver. You don’t want to give up this power, you want to try.
“That’s big talk for someone asking to be choked right now.” You dead-pan at him, voice even and calm. You continue to move your hips, listening to his repeated moans with each breath. “So loud and needy for it too.”
Jake nods proudly and drunkenly, reaching his hands out to yours and forcing them back on his neck.
“I could be needier.” He says, pressing your hands against his airways.
You take over for him, choking his remaining words out of him and forcing him to moan.
“You said you’d make me take it?” You seethe out through your own pained moan, riding him so hard that you feel sensitive. “Like you think it would hurt me?”
He shakes his head rapidly, implying that you’re wrong to think that. Wanting to tell you that if he made you take it, you’d love every second of it. You wouldn’t tell him no.
“After promising you never would, Jake?” You question still, knowing he can’t answer. You squeeze harder as you watch his face darken, the blood rushing to burst in the whites of his eyes. “Is that it? You want to hurt me so that I hurt you back?”
He nods in a daze, wanting nothing more than to die like this now, or some other day. To hear your voice, feel your hands, and know that you’re fucking him through it.
“You don’t scare me.” You finally say, releasing the grasp and listening to the sharp inhale he takes in. “As much as I wish you did, you don’t.”
That’s all it takes really, knowing that he could work you like a puppet and you’d still love him. Why else would you say that? You wouldn’t fuck him like this if you didn’t mean it. Your mother long forgotten, the anger gone, it’s just a raw form of you and him right now.
Everything you’re saying is more truthful than he ever thinks you’ve been with him.
“Want me to?” He finally asks with a wet gasp as he continues to catch his breath. “I bet I could.”
“You can’t.” You say, now slowing your hips as your legs tire out, bracing yourself on his shoulders to take a breath.
“I can.” He says, immediately overpowering you. He sits up quick, flipping you right over and onto your back. “I can make you feel anything I want.” He whispers darkly to you. He grabs your legs and pushes them to your chest, lost entirely from this reality. “Anything you want.”
You just stare up at him, willing to accept his words even more when he slams his length into you, so deep that you feel nothing but the pain of it.
For the first time, he’s hurting you through pleasure alone.
“Could make you love it too,” He continues to dote on himself as he watches the sparkle in your eye dim. “You love it already, don’t you?”
“I’m not afraid.” You manage to mutter out through a guttural groan, wincing at the way he drives himself into you at such a speed that all you feel is pain.
“I can’t take you seriously when you talk like that.” He chuckles, feeling entirely in control of whatever entity is running his body right now. “I see you baby, you’re terrified to lose me.”
Your eyes die in that moment, because out of anything in this world, he’s pinpointed your biggest fear.
“So pretty when you’re scared too,” He hums out, not relenting at all with the force of his hips when he lets your legs fall around him, and he finds himself burying his face between your tits. “Maybe I should threaten to leave you.”
Instantly, you cry.
“Just so I can eat up these little tears you have for me.”
You wish he would shut up.
“So I can taste the way you come on me, and feel your pussy try and lock me here.” He smooths over your nipple at the words, slowing his hips and pulling out just to the tip. “Your body tells me more than you know, love.”
Your eyes roll up when his pointed thrust shoves your body across your sheets, your hands reach for his shoulders, clawing for any sense of normality to this moment.
“So quiet.” He lightens his own voice now, letting it fall against your collarbone in a tone just above a whisper. “So stubborn.”
Your mind awakens at the insult, hoping he’s right.
“To think I’d ever leave you.” He smiles, lifting up to meet your lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He tastes your tears and it’s just enough for him to forgive you.
To forgive you for not hitting him enough, for not choking him until he died. To forgive you for even thinking you’d need to talk to your mother, and for fucking lying to him.
And only now does he go quiet, fucking you will full intent now that he’s already in your head at every turn and corner. He can tell with the way you don’t even realize your previous orgasm.
With the way it bubbled out and down his balls, hugging his cock so tightly that all he could do was keep fucking with your mind, toying with threats only to silence them.
And then, you inhale a sob, and breathe out his name, so pretty to your ears, even more beautiful to his own.
“Don’t leave me.” You chime out, body numb and emotions threatening you into a panic attack.
“I’m right here, love.” He chuckles. “You’re shaking.”
You are. More than you can even comprehend, your body is shaking from feeling everything and nothing at once, all the way up until you do feel something.
“Ah, shit.” You cry out, hugging his body so tightly against you. “Right there–”
And Jake does it, angling his hips to repeatedly hit the spot inside of you. Knowing you’re sensitive, knowing you can take it, knowing that he can’t when he feels every drop in your body push him out of you.
Instantly he plunges back in, listening to the wet sounds of all that love you must have for him. He can barely move in this suffocating hug as your body shakes and quivers more than it ever has, even through your past traumas, even through the cold nights this city offers.
He has spent you and fucked you dry.
“There she is,” He echoes into your ear. “The girl of my dreams.”
The only energy left in you is enough to give him a smile before your tunnel vision fades into nothingness.
It feels calm in the darkness he gives you, and even calmer when you wake up feeling as if all of this was a dream.
It wasn’t though, because you can feel the way you’re still leaking all over your bed. Your own slick mixed with his, and you don’t even remember when or how he orgasmed because he certainly was taking his time before you initially fainted, but you’re glad he did. You think he is too, with the way he clings to you like a puppy, as if he didn’t just fuck reality straight out of you.
Lending you the gift of floating, and of pain you find yourself to love.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Waking up the next morning felt like you were a new person and you couldn’t be happier to see the saddest version of you die. The only fear you need to have is that Jake may some day choose to leave, and he said himself that he never would.
You trust him more than anyone, more than yourself even, considering he’s managed to force you into facing so many versions of yourself that you didn’t even know you had.
This is the first morning you’ve woken up without your skin crawling and you can’t help but shake him awake, destroying that blushed and sleeping face of his.
“Jake,” You shake him, feeling him stir instantly and lend you a crooked smile. “Wake up.”
You listen to his morning stretch as his body vibrates in a yawn, and then he’s nuzzling his face even further into your naked chest.
For what feels like hours, you find yourself engaging in pillow talk. Logging into work? Long forgotten. Calling your mother? Forgotten. The pain in your body? Ignored.
You tell him everything. Every detail of your life, your first memory, your first laugh and cry. All of the times your heart has been shattered, your least favorite colors and favorite words in the world. And he just…listens.
He nods, he smiles, he coos and kisses you throughout all of it.
And then–
“You know, a while back before we met, I came home and noticed some of my things were missing and messed with. I can’t help but feel like he’s known where I’ve been this whole time.”
Jake stiffens in your grasp before relaxing. It happened so fast that you don’t think anyone but you would have noticed it.
“Some of my panties were gone, and the batteries in my toys went missing weeks ago–not that it matters now or anything.” You continue, watching his face intently. “ At first I thought that maybe I was just forgetful but– now i know that it really was him.” You pause, smiling at him. “I’m just kind of waiting now, wondering if he’s ever going to try and do it again.”
“Do you want me to kill him?” Jake chuckles out as if to offer a funny little solution, one that he has genuinely considered more times than he can count. And he should have already, honestly.
You feel warmer at the way he makes jokes, but you know better than anyone that Jake jumps into action driven only by rage at times.
“He won’t come near you again, love, haven’t I proved that to you already?” He continues, imagining the blood of his man on his fists again. Imagining the way his bones would crack so beautifully.
You nod in an almost shy way to him.
“You’re safe with me.” He says, wrapping his arms around himself as you cradle him. “You’re safe with me.” He continues, repeating it more to himself because he feels as though he can’t fail you again, “You’ve always been safe.”
You haven’t believed words so deeply until you met him.
“He already fucking knows–” He whispers shortly, cutting himself off. “I’ll kill him.” He whispers a bit louder, uncaring if you heard that first slip of his words.
Something in your brain floods at those words. A confirmation that you’ve seen him break before, and it wasn’t your imagination. Your protective, loving, and sweet boyfriend has a side to him that you’ve yet to truly see. Those words were more believable than any of the sweet things he’s ever said to you.
And still, you almost want to encourage it, reminding yourself of the image of your ex the day he showed up, all bruised up. And then to the image of Jake with his own little battle scar.
Deep down you think you knew what happened.
And you still wonder how such a perfect man fell into your lap? Your bruised up, pain-loving boyfriend, breaking his soft persona and showing you a glimpse of something that feels….unnervingly beautiful to you.
Unsure, almost, you feel. As happy as you are that he lied to you, you try to not think of how Jake found your ex with nothing more than an out-of-context description of your abuse. You try not to think of the way he looked away from you when you mentioned the items in your apartment that went missing.
You try not to think about how close he lives to you, and how he always managed to show up when you couldn’t hang out.
How all of his interests matched your own, up until he never spoke about them again when he started staying with you.
How he only looks at you, how he only talks to you, and about you.
How he always knew what to say to you.
You try not to think about how you saw him toss his own laundry into your washer many nights ago, seeing a glimpse of what you thought could have been a pair of your own missing panties. Or how he always accidentally picked up your toothbrush rather than his own in the mornings.
You push those thoughts far into the back of your mind, knowing that you were just being paranoid, grasping to not trust a single person in this world as you fall into this life with him. Even if all of those instances were with purpose on his end, you know you’d simply accept them as normal. You’d accept him, you wouldn’t think twice.
Jake is your only safety. He would never do anything to harm you, he’s proved that.
You hold his head tighter against your chest, breathing out a sigh and accepting everything at face value, pushing back the slight doubt in your head that everything he has done for you, to you, and with you, isn’t normal.
“Did you tell him already?” You sigh out in a calmer tone, soothing him with your fingers in his hair. “That you’d kill him? Is that really why you had that bruise?”
Jake stiffens under your grasp briefly.
“What do you m–” He starts.
“I won’t ask how,” You cut him off. “But thank you.”
He relaxes, thumbs now rubbing hearts into your skin, stomach bubbling in butterflies.
“I did.” He now admits reluctantly, feeling dangerously close to a truth you don’t need to see or know about. “I couldn’t just let another person think that you still belong to them.”
You pause, then nuzzle closer to him.
“I knew from the first time I saw you that I wouldn’t let anyone else touch you.” He continues, spilling and spilling. “I knew that you’d be mine.”
You try not to think too hard about it, asking out gently and instead choosing to just love him harder.
“When was the first time you saw me?”
Jake goes silent and tries to read the air in the room, sensing how relaxed you are against him.
“Eighteenth of October at the supermarket. We both made spaghetti for dinner that night.” He lies, never intending to admit that the first time he saw you was through your window. Never admitting that he actually already knew you by that eighteenth of October. That he followed you to the market.
He says it so confidently, and the fact that he’s right about what you cooked should scare you. The fact that you must have seen him that day too should make you feel unnerved.
You choose to ignore that too.
“Was your spaghetti good?” You ask, allowing yourself to spiral into the safety that he offers you. The image of your bruised ex boyfriend bringing joy to you, the idea of Jake keeping his promises making your stomach tingle with even brighter joy.
“No.” He admits with a chuckle. “Yours was probably better.”
“You really would kill him, wouldn’t you?”
Jake nods.
You trust him.
He’s not lying.
He would never lie to you.
Him knowing what you cooked that night is a coincidence. Him remembering the date and month is just him being mindful. Your lost panties must have gotten tangled in his laundry, surely. He found your ex because you probably let sensitive information slip without realizing it.
He met your mother and uncle by coincidence.
He’s the perfect man by chance, and you’re lucky to have him.
“I love you, you know.” You say, feeling him immediately shift away from your chest to look at you.
The look in his eye when he’s immediately getting on top of you, it’s still as if he’s about to wisp away with you in his arms to another realm. You’ve already been there before, and your body warms at the thought.
“What did you say?” He asks, voice shaking and somewhat far away from your own dissociated reality.
“I love you.” You say again, watching his lips quiver, and feeling his hands squeeze you.
He did it. He’s won.
And at the end of the day, you don’t think Jake could ever lose. After all, you’ve never felt so safe in a grasp as tight as this one, as painful as this one. You’ve never wanted a man to leave his fingerprints on you so bad.
As you look at him, seeing him lose himself from reality, you follow suit. Losing yourself with him, feeling that painful grasp on you turn into begging hands. Swelling him under your palms, soothing his stinging skin with your lips, listening to him encourage you, knowing that if your ex ever tried to step into this room, he wouldn’t make it out alive.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
oh, the horrors, amirite?
this is the last of the fic. there is not a part three.
taglist: @skzenhalove , @taetaemylovie, @soocult, @nyanggk, @grilledbananas, @dneltrise, @becc09, @nielle002, @sjyfolder, @sd211, @moonmoongi, @sweetiewolfie, @ksnooppy, @woongkification, @laxatives4hre, @hiddensideofmoon, @mywaaw, @beomstarz, @multifandombtvh, @heeverseblog, @floclover, @elliesuh, @iloveleeknow, @crazydelulu, @dasa3040, @sluttyhee, @bethroedtojae, @cherryunie, @hiamlili, @seojunandsoju, @parksunghoonsgf, @jungwon-xo, @fxiryeon, @jwnghyuns, @juliesblogs
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JUST THIS ONCE / P.J
Pairing ◊ sub!fem!reader x dom!bf!jay
Genre ◊ SMUT, established relationship, fluff at the end
Warnings ◊ SMUT (minors dni), cursing, neck kisses, marking, petnames (baby, doll, good girl...), rough sex, jay ripped reader's dress, reader wears lingerie, dirty talk, degradation, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do it), posessive!jay??, spanking, praising, multiple orgasms, aftercare, jay proposes to reader at the end
Word count ◊ 3k
Summary ◊ it was your third anniversary with your boyfriend and he had planned to take you to a nice fancy restaurant to celebrate, but he kinda changed his plans when he saw you in your dress.
a/n: thank you anon for making this request! not proofread, enjoy!
Your apartment was relatively quiet, except for the soft music playing in the background, blending with the faint scent of lavender from the candles you had lit earlier. It was your third anniversary with Jay, and the excitement was palpable. You stood in front of the mirror, meticulously putting on the final touches of your makeup. The soft light from the vanity highlighted your features, making you glow even more than usual.
Jay had been your rock for the past three years. His love for you was unwavering, and it showed in every little thing he did. Tonight, he planned a special dinner to celebrate your relationship, and you were both eagerly looking forward to it.
As you picked up your favorite pair of earrings, you heard the soft creak of the bedroom door. Glancing in the mirror, you saw Jay standing in the doorway, a tender smile playing on his lips. His eyes sparkled with admiration as he took in the sight of you.
"You look absolutely stunning," he said, his voice filled with awe.
You chuckled softly, a playful glint in your eyes. "You say that every single day, you know."
"Because it's the truth." Jay stepped into the room, his gaze never leaving you. "I'm serious, every time I see you, it's like I'm falling in love all over again."
A warmth spread through your chest at his words. You turned back to the mirror, slipping on your earrings. As you did, Jay walked up behind you, sliding his arms around your waist. His hands rested on your hips, and he pulled you gently against him.
"Are you trying to distract me?" you teased, meeting his eyes in the mirror.
"Maybe," he murmured, his lips curling into a smirk as he pressed a kiss to your neck. "I just can't help it. You look incredible, baby."
You felt a shiver run down your spine at the sensation of his lips on your skin. His touch was electric, sending waves of warmth through your body. You leaned back into him, enjoying the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around you. He started with gentle pecks, then his kisses became more open-mouthed, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. You knew how sensitive you were there, and Jay knew it too. He was taking full advantage.
“Jong,” you breathed out, trying to keep your composure as a wave of heat coursed through you. “We have reservations. We can’t be late.”
His hands began to wander, one sliding up to your shoulder to gently tug at the strap of your dress. The silky fabric slipped down, exposing more of your skin to his eager mouth. His other hand pressed against your stomach, holding you firmly in place.
“I don’t give a shit about that,” he whispered against your neck, his voice low and husky. “You look so fucking good in that dress. I can’t help myself.”
You tried to protest, but your words came out weak and breathy. “We really should—”
He turned you around to face him, his eyes dark with desire. “You’re hungry, I get it. But I need you right now, more than anything.”
His lips captured yours in a heated kiss, his tongue demanding entrance. You melted into him, your hands finding their way to his chest. The kiss deepened, and you could feel his need for you in every movement, every touch.
When he finally pulled back, you were breathless. He looked at you with a cocky, playful grin. “I’ll cook something for you later, i promise, and I'll reschedule the reservation. Right now, I need you.”
You bit your lip, torn between your hunger and the intense desire building within you. “Jay, we really should go to dinner…”
He cut you off with another kiss, his hands roaming your body with a possessive intensity. “You’re enjoying this, don’t lie,” he said against your lips, his voice a teasing growl.
You couldn’t deny it. The way he was touching you, the way he was making you feel, it was intoxicating. He knew exactly how to push your buttons, and he was doing it with expert precision.
“Just a little longer,” he murmured, his lips moving back to your neck. “I promise I’ll take care of you.”
His hands slipped under your dress, and you felt your resolve weakening. His touch was electric, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You knew you should insist on leaving, but in that moment, all you wanted was him.
“Jay…” you whispered, your voice a mix of need and surrender.
He looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of love and lust. “I love you,” he said softly, his hands still exploring. “And I need you right now, baby. Please.”
You gave in, your hands threading through his hair as you pulled him closer. “Okay,” you breathed, your heart pounding in your chest. “But just this once.”
He grinned. “That’s my good little girl.”
The moment those words left his mouth, something shifted in him. His eyes darkened and he captured your mouth in a hard, demanding kiss. There was no gentleness anymore, only raw passion His hands gripped your hips, pulling you tightly against him as his tongue invaded your mouth, claiming you completely.
His lips quickly found your neck for the third time that night, but this time, he was much more insistent. He nipped and sucked at your skin, parking you with dark bruises. He loved marking you, reminding everyone you were his and his only. Each hickeys sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making the wetness between your legs even more prominent.
With a rough yank, he tore the dress apart, the sound of ripping fabric filling the room. "My dress!" you exclaimed as you stared at him in shock.
He only smirked, his eyes boring into yours. "I'll buy you another one doll, don't worry," he said casually, a little too casually. You were left standing in your favorite set of lingerie, the white lace set you knew drove him completely wild everytime you wore it. His eyes raked over you, taking in every detail, and he chuckled darkly. "Look at you, wearing my favorite set. What a naughty girl. Did you plan this, or are you just that fucking desperate for me?"
You felt your cheeks burn at his words, and you felt your white panties getting completely drenched. As you didn't respond, he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. "Answer me, doll. Did you dress like that because you wanted me to ruin you?"
You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper, "I didn't... I mean, I..."
He laughed soflty, his grip on your chine tightening. "You did, didn't you? You wanted this. You wanted me to take you. Well congratulations, sweetheart. You're getting exactly what you wanted."
His free hand moved to your back, unclapsing your bra with practiced ease. he tossed it aside, his eyes never leaving yours. "On the bed."
You didn't hesitate. You moved to the bed, your legs already weak. You could feel his eyes following your every move. As he hovered over you, you felt a shiver down your spine. Your hands went to the buttons of his white button-up, fumbling slightly in your haste. You needed to feel his skin against yours, to touch the toned muscles you had come to love so much. As you pushed the fabric off his shoulders, your breath hitched. His torso was a work of art—toned, tan, and undeniably sexy. Even after three years, the sight of him like this made your mouth water.
Jay noticed your reaction and smirked, his eyes gleaming with arrogance. “You like what you see, don’t you?” he teased, his voice a low growl.
You bit your lip, unable to tear your gaze away from his chest. “You know I do,” you whispered.
His smirk widened, and he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “Good, because you’re mine.”
He didn’t wait for a response. His hands were already on you, rough and demanding. One hand slipped between your legs, parting your thighs, while the other cupped your breast, his thumb teasing your nipple through the thin fabric of your lingerie. The dual sensations made you arch your back, a moan escaping your lips.
His hand slipped underneath your panties, hissing once he felt how wet you were. His index parted your lips before he slid it into your wetness, thrusting it roughly inside you. Your back arched, and he slid his middle finger almost immediately. The sudden invasion made you cry out, a choked moan leaving your lips, your body already trembling. He set a relentless pace, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot with every thrust.
"Fuck, you're so wet for me," he murmured, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck. "You like being treated like this, babygirl? You like it when I'm rough like that, mmh?"
"Y-Yes, fuck," you moaned, your hips moving to meet his thrusts. "Please, don't stop."
His lips curled into a satisfied smile against your skin. “Good girl. You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?”
You could only nod, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak. His thumb found your clit, circling it with just the right amount of pressure. Your breath hitched, and you felt the world around you start to blur.
“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire. “I want to see you when you come.”
You forced your eyes open, meeting his intense gaze. The connection between you was electric, and it pushed you over the edge. With a cry, you came hard, your body convulsing around his fingers. The pleasure was overwhelming, consuming you completely.
Jay watched you the entire time, his eyes dark with satisfaction. He slowed his movements, drawing out your orgasm until you were left panting and trembling beneath him.
“You’re beautiful when you come,” he said softly, withdrawing his fingers and bringing them to his lips. He licked them clean, his eyes never leaving yours. “And you taste incredible.”
You were still catching your breath, your body buzzing with aftershocks. He quickly undid his pants, tugging them off along with his boxers, his cock freed from their confines as it slapped against his tan stomach, red and ready, precum leaking from the tip. The sight made your mouth watered and you could feel yourself leaking.
“I need to be inside you, doll” he muttered, his voice thick with lust. He positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock pressing against your wetness. “I can't wait any longer.”
Without another word, he thrust into you, hard and deep. The sudden fullness made you cry out, your hands gripping the sheets. Jay set a relentless pace, each thrust rough and demanding. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you against him with every movement.
“Fuck, you feel so good, that pussy was made for me, sh-shit” he groaned, his voice ragged. “So tight, so perfect. You're mine, do you hear me?”
“Yes, jong, fuck,” you gasped, your body trembling with the intensity of his thrusts. “I'm yours. Always yours.”
He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’re going to cum for me again. I’m not stopping until you do.”
He shifted his angle slightly, hitting that perfect spot inside you with each thrust. The pleasure was overwhelming, building rapidly. His thumb found your clit again, rubbing it with firm, precise strokes. You were still so sensitive from your earlier orgasm, it didn't take a lot of time for that familiar coil in your lower stomach to form.
“I'm-I'm gonna c-cum,” you cried out, your voice desperate.
“Cum for me, babygirl” he demanded, his thrusts growing even rougher.
You obeyed, your body shattering with pleasure. Your scream filled the room as you came hard around him, your muscles clenching tight. But he didn’t stop. He kept thrusting, pushing you through your orgasm and into another one quickly. He knew your body too well, and he knew exactly what buttons to push to make you fall apart on his cock.
“That's it, scream for me,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips so hard you were sure there would be bruises. “Let everyone know who you belong to.”
He flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up so he could take you from behind. The new angle allowed him to go even deeper, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure through you. He spanked you lightly, his hand leaving a stinging imprint on your skin.
“You're my little fucktoy, aren't you?” he taunted, his voice rough and filthy.
“Fuck yeah” you panted, barely able to form words.
He spanked you again, harder this time. “Good girl. Now cum for me again.”
You didn’t think it was possible, but the combination of his rough thrusts and dirty words sent you over the edge once more. You came hard, your body convulsing with the force of it. Jay groaned in pleasure, but he still didn’t stop.
He pulled out and flipped you onto your back again, his eyes wild with lust. “I want to see your face when you cum.”
He entered you again, thrusting hard and fast. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. His hands were everywhere, touching, gripping, claiming you. The intensity of it all was overwhelming, but you loved every second.
“Jay, please,” you begged, your voice a desperate plea.
“Please what?” he taunted, his thrusts never slowing. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want to come again,” you cried, tears of pleasure streaming down your face. “Please, Jay, make me come again.”
“That's my good fucking girl,” he murmured, his thumb finding your clit once more. “Come for me one more time.”
You screamed as your body obeyed, the orgasm ripping through you with a force that left you breathless. Jay watched you the entire time, his eyes dark with satisfaction.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his movements grew erratic. He was close, and the thought of him finding his release pushed you even higher. With a final, deep thrust, he groaned loudly, his body tensing as he came inside you. The sensation of his cum painting your walls white sent a final wave of pleasure through you, and you moaned softly, your body completely spent.
He collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms. Both of you were panting, your bodies covered in a sheen of sweat. Jay pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his voice softening. “Are you okay?”
You nodded, a tired but content smile on your lips. “Yeah, I’m good. Just a bit sore.”
Jay chuckled softly, his eyes filled with love and concern. “Let’s get you cleaned up and comfortable, okay?”
He carefully helped you sit up and led you to the bathroom. He turned on the warm water, filling the bathtub while you leaned against him, feeling the comforting strength of his presence. Once the tub was ready, he gently helped you into the warm water, the heat easing the soreness from your muscles.
Jay kneeled beside the tub, his hands moving to wash you with slow, soothing strokes. “Even like that, you're so beautiful,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” you whispered, feeling a deep sense of gratitude for his care.
After the bath, he wrapped you in a fluffy towel and carried you back to the bed. He dressed you in one of his soft t-shirts, the fabric warm and comforting against your skin. He made sure you were comfortable, tucking you in with a gentle kiss.
“I’ll be right back,” he said, disappearing into the kitchen. A few minutes later, he returned with a glass of water and some painkillers. “Here, this should help.”
You took the pills, sipping the water as he settled beside you. He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. The tenderness in his voice and the warmth of his embrace made you feel cherished and loved.
After a while, Jay shifted slightly, reaching into the drawer of his nightstand. He pulled out a small black velvet box and looked at you with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.
“I was going to give this to you at the restaurant,” he said, his voice a bit shaky. “But since we’re staying home, and you’re all sore, I figured now is the perfect time.”
Your heart skipped a beat as he opened the box, revealing an exquisite ring. The center stone was a stunning diamond, surrounded by smaller, sparkling gems. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and you could see the care and thought that had gone into choosing it.
“Seongie…” you breathed. “It’s beautiful.”
He took the ring from the box and held it up, his eyes meeting yours with a serious, loving gaze. “You mean everything to me. These past three years have been the best of my life, and I want to spend the rest of it with you. Will you marry me?”
Your heart swelled with emotion, and you nodded, tears streaming down your face. “Oh my God, Jay, of course I will!”
A wide smile broke across his face as he slipped the ring onto your finger. “You’ve made me the happiest man in the world,” he said, pulling you into a deep, loving kiss.
As you snuggled into his arms, admiring the ring on your finger, you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with happiness. Despite the soreness and the change in plans, this moment was perfect. Jay had taken care of you, showed you his love in every possible way, and now he had promised you forever.
“I know it’s a bit extravagant,” he said softly, his fingers tracing patterns on your back. “But I wanted you to have something that reflects how much you mean to me, baby.”
You looked up at him, your eyes filled with love. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”
He smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips. “And I can’t wait to spend it with you, my love. Happy anniversary.”
“Happy anniversary,” you whispered back, feeling a sense of contentment and joy that you knew would last a lifetime.
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Year 4:
Beep Beep Beep Beep
“Oh my god, uncle! You’re gonna burn the house down!” Theo yelled.
“David, What happened? Is your hand bleeding?” Mom screamed
“Ahahaha, it’s nothing Chloe, don’t worry about it. I was just trying to make everyone a surprise breakfast,” Dad said.
“It’s nothing? There’s fire on the stove!” Mom said frantically.
“I got the fire extinguisher, don’t worry. Just a little mishap,” Dad said, trying to cheer them up.
“Uncle, you’re bleeding all over the fire extinguisher! We need to get him to the hospital,” Theo said.
“Hahaha, I guess I am a little clumsy,” Dad said.
Beep Beep Beep
“Someone please turn off the fire alarm, it’s stressing me out,” Mom asked
“What’s happening?” I asked, half asleep in my Pajamas.
Sometimes life surprises you, one moment, you were having a sweet dream. Then, you’re driving your bleeding father to the hospital in Pajamas. The new SUV does feel nice to drive, at least.
“I’m fine, guys. I think it must be the sugar. If I would’ve put more in it, this wouldn’t have happened,” Dad said.
“David, I love you, but don’t you EVER pull stupid stunts like that again,” Mom said, leaning on Dad’s shoulder.
Apparently, Dad wanted to surprise us with waffles for breakfast and thank Mom for all the delicious food she made. He was also hungry for a snack, so he broke Mom's one rule: Don’t mess with her kitchen.
The doctor said he could remove the cast in two months, about the time Theo and I graduate. He already got an internship in a restaurant, bringing home some fancy leftovers.
Mom has not let off her sight from Dad since we got back. She gave him a firm warning and pinched his cheek. Now Dad gets ice cream and meals delivered to his mouth without lifting a finger.
I wish someone would do that for me. Imagine not having to leave the bed and constantly having sweets in your mouth. That would be a dream.
My thoughts disturb me sometimes.
Since winning the competition, I have accepted that I will never be muscular again. The original plan was to savour everything I could for a year, then go on a diet. Mom and Theo have slowed down with the food so that I won’t eat until my stomach is about to burst, but they won’t refuse if I ask for something.
Now I am close to 500 pounds with my stomach always growling for more. I guess it’s just another fat ass behaviour I would have to accept.
Since losing weight is out of the question, I have figured out a way to keep my core muscle fit enough to support the enormous belly in front of me. It’s simple, I stick an 8-inch dildo from Seven’s house to my chair, and I would sit on it when I’m playing video games or watching a movie. When the itch gets too much, I can use my core muscles to lift myself up and down. This way, I get to work out and get off. It's not good for the chair, but who cares? It’s reinforced.
***
It was a regular lunchtime when Brad broke into my house again. Usually, he would greet my parents and head straight upstairs to perform witchcraft for all I care, but today, his footsteps are leading to my door.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Brad is the kind of asshole that does not knock. I still have the dildo in me!
I panicked and pulled up my pants before getting off the dildo.
He came in right as I flopped my belly down to cover the fact that my pants were not fully pulled up.
“Sup,” I said.
“Sup, Jay,” he reached out his fist for a bump.
“So, you know our last season of football in college just ended,” he said.
Brad walked to my left to sit on my bed.
I rotate my seat to face him so he doesn’t see my ass hanging out in the back.
“Oh, fuck!” I yelped.
Fuck, the dildo twisted in the movement, now poking my prostate.
“You okay, dude?” Brad asked.
“Of course, continue,” I said with the best smile I could muster.
“The guys are celebrating, so it’s like the last party for the team, and I was wondering if,”
“Okay, yeah, I’ll go,” I said quickly.
“Oh, that’s it? You usually don't like to go out or like- move at all,” he said, then stood up.
His sudden movement startled me, and the dildo jerked deeper.
“Are you sure you’re okay, dude?” Brad said, walking closer.
“I’m all good bruh, don’t worry,” I said.
I can feel my hole tensing, almost swallowing the dildo whole.
“I just don’t want you to be angry at me for fucking your cousin. If you want me to stop, I will,” he said.
“You what the who?” I said, baffled.
“I’m fucking,”
“Ew no, don’t tell me. I’m fine as long as you never mention doing that with my cousin ever again,” I said.
He let out a breath.
“Well, that’s something out of my chest. I’m going up now. I’ll come here and pick you up tomorrow night,” Brad said, rushing out the door.
I let out a breath too.
The locks will never be open after this traumatic experience.
My ass is still tingling, so I quickly fuck myself with the dildo to get over with it.
***
The drive to the house has been excruciatingly slow because Brad is a cautious driver. It leaves a lot of time to think without food distracting me.
I am now extremely aware of the bright yellow Pikachu face stretching across my belly. There aren't many clothes that fit me, and it’s been a while since I went out, so I didn’t bother buying new shirts.
I haven’t seen them in a while. They’re gonna think I’m fucking lame.
“Dude, snap out of it. Everyone there misses you. I didn’t invite the assholes,” Brad said.
“…I guess.”
“You’re doing the arm-scratching thing again, haven’t seen you doing that in a while,” Brad said.
“I’m going to put on some music, and you’re going to stop thinking, okay?” Brad added.
“Yeah, okay,” I replied.
When we opened the door, Marcus the quarterback greeted us, and half my worries melted away.
He is about 300 pounds, which feels skinny to me now. At least I’m not the only fat one.
Now that I look into it, not everyone has defined abs. I don’t know why I expected everyone to be runway models. Even Brad is softer around the middle.
“Dude! Where have you been?” Aiden yelled.
“Oh shit, you look humongous, my guy,” Braxton said.
We quickly got back into the groove we had two summers ago.
Brad booted up a party game, and we tried our hardest to destroy each other.
We also caught up on what each of us was up to this past year, or what to do with our future. Aiden wants to marry his girlfriend, Marcus wants to join his boyfriend’s band, and Brad wants to be a freelance artist alongside his side job.
When the night came, They ordered some Chicken wings and pizzas.
“Fuck yeah, trash food! No more diet from Coach,” Aiden said, taking away half the pizza.
“By the way, I bought extra pizzas to see how much we can push ourselves,” Brad said.
I have a bad feeling about this.
“Of course, if it’s too much, we can always count on Jay,” Brad laughed.
There are six of us, with twenty large pizzas. I am screwed.
“It’s just some pizzas, no big deal. I can beat Jay easily,” Braxton, the most muscular guy in the group, said.
“Hahaha, don’t underestimate him, my dude,” Brad replied.
Except for Marcus, all of them are wimps. They started groaning and bitching after a few slices.
“Damn it, how do you make it look so easy,” Aiden asked.
“There’s a technique to it, dumb ass. I trained for this shit,” I answered.
Aiden then passed out from the food coma after six slices.
Two more people soon followed after him.
Brad is on his way to his second pizza. His stomach has never looked this bloated before. Marcus is trying his hardest on his fourth one, but the guy is barely hanging on.
When the seventh pizza box emptied, I was stuffed beyond belief.
The guys woke up and refocused their energy on me to finish the rest.
“There’s only two left, people. Finish it,” I said, pointing at the boxes.
“We’re not on your level, Jay. You’re like, a pro at this,” Aiden said.
“Yeah, man. Only you can do it,” Brad said.
Braxton handed the pizza box over, and they started feeding me slice by slice.
“Come on Jay, you’re better than this,” Aiden said and rubbed my belly.
These people have no personal boundaries like always.
I am beyond capacity after the eighth one.
This was most likely a fucked up plan by Brad to show they don’t care I’m a fat ass. I still believed they wouldn’t like me because of my size until a few hours ago, now it seems ridiculous to reject all those party invites last year. Well, maybe I was up to something because now they’re trying to suffocate me with pizzas.
When Aiden stuffed the last of the slices in my mouth, everyone cheered.
Tonight was absurd, but I got my friends back. When some guys were not happy for a fat guy to be on the team, they stopped hanging out with me. I thought I was a lost cause.
“Dude, you better come back next time,” Aiden said.
“I’m gonna beat you next time, Jay. Watch it,” Braxton said.
“Awesome to have you back, man,” Marcus said.
It reminds me of that summer when we hung out by the river every time the fast food party room got too suffocating, when my worries were carried away by the water.
“Thanks, Brad. For doing this,” I told him once we got in the car.
“No problem, I’m always here,” he answered.
I must have gotten too sentimental, or pizzas are clogging my brain, but I opened my Instagram and tabbed Recent in the search bar.
It seems like he made some new decorations for the coffee shop.
I scrolled down to see the picture of the beach.
“Stop scrolling like a creep, Jay. Just call him,” he said.
“What?” I asked.
“He’s still waiting for that coffee,” Brad said.
“You still talk to Ave?” I asked.
“This is fucking depressing to watch, Jay. You guys were best friends,” he said.
“You know, I was kinda jealous of you guys back in the day. I was the skinny guy who got bullied on the side, and you were the guy on the team who still takes the time of day to befriend me. I only had you, and you also had him. It’s frustrating seeing you throw that away,” he finishes.
He doesn’t understand though. I’m a hypocrite who ignored Ave when he got fat. I don’t deserve his attention.
***
It’s been two weeks since our graduations and Dad getting his cast off. Mom has been working full-time, trying to figure out what we could do as a family to celebrate. It’s proven to be difficult when there are two 500-pound whales in said family. We can’t fit into any amusement park ride, and we’ll sink into the bottom of the ocean if we go to the beach. So, the rational thing to do is a picnic. At least that’s what I suggested. But Mom insisted a camping trip was the best family bonding option. For two whales.
It’s fine, I thought to myself. We have done this plenty of times.
After stuffing Dad in the front seat and the emergency food boxes in the back of the SUV. Mom explained the bags of medicines she bought like a flight attendant with the safety instructions. She must have been traumatized by Dad’s injury. He’s not allowed to do anything remotely dangerous, like moving his hand to eat. Hence, the army medical packs.
Mom went through the bottles of fox spray, bear spray, mosquito spray, sun spray and pepper spray, and then we finally got moving.
On our way there, we had some intermissions at the gas stations to replenish snacks. Theo whined it, but this was all his fault anyway. If only he hadn’t grown our monstrous appetite, and forced musical soundtracks to be played in the car for hours, I might have skipped over a few snack breaks.
Recently, my weight has stabilized at about 520 pounds. Thank God my exercises on the chair worked; otherwise, I’m going to blow up on my way to the camp.
“Guys, Brad said safe trip, and he’ll miss us,” Theo said.
“He probably only meant you,” I replied.
Theo has been giggling for an hour straight, looking at his phone.
“I’ll miss you, Bradley. The signal’s breaking off. See you soon!” Theo said.
We set up the camp in a few hours. By the time we were done, the sun had already set, giving the mountain an orange hue.
Today we’re going up to Sunshore Lake. It’s going to be a steep walk, but I’m ready to flex my athletic prowess.
It was not a good sign that I was already sweating before arriving at the entrance.
“David, this is a bit steeper than I remembered. Do you guys want to stay down here?” Mom said.
“Nah. Jay and I will do it. This is a piece of cake compared to what we used to do. Right, son?” Despite not having to walk for more than a year, Dad remains confident.
“Hell yeah, Dad. Let’s show them what we're made of!” I said.
I give up. We’re a third of the way through, and I can feel my belly weighing me down.
“Come on -huff, son, you -huff-can do it!” Dad said, looking worse than I do.
Theo looked at us and chuckled.
“Guys, I’m so sorry! I should’ve known this was too much,” Mom said, panicking.
“It’s- it’s all good, Chloe. Remember you married the- huff- Star athlete back in college?” Dad smiled at Mom and gave her a thumbs up.
“Need a hand?” Theo asked me.
“Isn’t that too much?” I motioned to our luggage on his back.
“Oh, that’s nothing,” he swung my arm behind his shoulder and carried me.
He’s been doing that more often than not when I couldn’t get up. Probably the reason he got all those muscles under his shirt. What happened to the noodle arm ginger?
“Thanks, man. I guess I don’t have to roll back down there,” I said.
When we were halfway through, Dad told us solemnly.
“I- I don’t think I can make it.”
“Noooo, David I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for things to end this way,” Mom said with tears in her eyes.
“I love you guys. You’re the light of my life. I am honour to be a husband, a father, and a-”
“Dad, you’re not dying. We’re almost there,” I said.
“Is it too late to call an emergency helicopter?” Mom asked.
“David, I love you, but I really don’t want to touch you right now. Can you pull through yourself, baby?” Mom said, looking at the sweat ball that was Dad.
Theo burst out laughing, and I couldn’t help but join too, even if I was in an equally dire situation.
When we got to the top, everyone was exhausted.
We cleaned ourselves up with towels, and Mom went to check the Kayaking information.
Dad and I were too big for it, as expected, so we went to find a good spot for fishing.
“I’m so excited. I have never kayaked before!” Theo said, looking as refreshed as ever.
Before we set up our fishing gear, they eagerly ditched us.
The Lake looked as calm as ever. It's boring with little going on.
Mom and Theo are probably in the middle of the lake now.
Staring at the stale water, I realized Dad was not perfect. He’s a little stubborn, clueless sometimes, but that’s what I like about him. I don’t know if anyone would find my quirks appealing. if Ave would.
I’m just a Lazy food addict who basically lives in his mom’s basement, so maybe not.
“Jay?” Dad said.
“What’s up, Dad?” I asked.
“You think too much, buddy.”
“You were always an overthinker since you were a toddler,” Dad said.
“I remember you told me you wanted to play football instead of hockey because hockey will give you frostbites, and freeze you into those Neanderthals from the museums,” Dad said.
“Oh Gosh,” he still remembers.
“You know what?” Dad said, then quickly took off his shirt.
“Let’s go for a swim,” He said with a smile.
“But the fishing,” I said.
“Don’t worry about the fish,” He said, walking back and charging towards the water.
The cannonball created a massive splash, making me completely wet.
“Mother of God, it’s freezing! Did you see that, Jay?” He said with a laugh.
“Yeah, that was pretty cool,” I chuckled. It’s not every day you see a chunky beast jumping into the water.
“Come on, Jay, take it off and jump!” he said.
I have not taken off my shirt in public since middle school, when I started to notice my flaws. Even in the locker room, I would find a bathroom stall to change.
“Don’t overthink it, Jay! Trust me!” Dad said.
Don’t overthink, I thought.
I took off my shirt and back off. When I pick up the pace, my entire body is wobbling.
With all the strength I have, I jumped.
Shit, this was a bad idea.
The cold water hit me.
First, nothing but white bubbles clouded me. Then, schools of fish surrounding me appeared in my vision, hurrying away from the meteor strike. I moved my legs slightly apart on the lakebed, so I don’t step on the tiny crabs while they take refuge in the kelp forest.
“Holy Fuck, it’s freezing!” I said as I pulled my head out of the water.
“Hahahaha, watch your mouth, Jay. You don’t want to summon your mother here,” Dad said.
The view down there was breathtaking; it was what I expected, but not. The fish looked different from a simple change of scenery. I wouldn't have known if I had never jumped.
“I’m proud of you, Jay. That was a huge splash. Aren’t the views here amazing?” he said.
“Thank you, Dad. I wouldn’t have done it without you,” I said.
“You did it all by yourself, kid,” he replied.
We kept exploring the lake until our stomachs growled in protest.
After setting up the fire, we roasted some fish in the bucket and made S’mores from caramel marshmallows.
Theo and Mom joined and we talked about the stories we had at school or some embarrassing stories of me Dad has kept.
The next day, we packed up our stuff to leave. The mountain is beautiful and all, but Dad and I are starving for some real food.
On our way down, I realized that I had been the biggest enemy to myself. There are so many supportive people surrounding me when my self-doubt overshadows them.
The signal bars slowly appear one by one. I opened Avery’s profile picture.
If he rejects me, I’ll be embarrassed in front of a person I really care about.
I shouldn’t overthink.
There’s nothing more I can lose when I already lost his company.
So I texted.
“Hey, Ave. I know I’m late, but would you mind if I take you up on your offer for the coffee?”
“...” a text bubble appeared.
“I thought you'd never ask.”
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