⋆.˚౨ৎᶻ𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵──⃝─⃝⃝⃝⃝─

𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒶 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒷𝓊𝓇𝓃.

[angelvvii]

JAKE NSFW AUDIO!

mdni (or do, idgaf) | wear headphones! 🎧

your subby boyfriend, jake, cums inside you again

[ikuesimsimp]

I can’t get over this screenshot I took from their new ep HES SO BABY 😭😚

[angelvvii]

i write smut about THIS man….?

[angelvvii]

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written for my dear @strawberrywonnie ! ✉️ ♡

⋆˚࿔ pairings ⸝⸝ jake × reader ᝰ.ᐟ wc ⸝⸝ 2.1k

˙𐃷˙ your boyfriend, jake, has a filthy little obsession he can’t hide on his bad days… so you let him use your pretty dimple to feel better.

🌟 内容 ⸝⸝ explicit sexual content ♫ 18+ ⸝⸝ intended for mature audiences | minors do not interact ⟡ pervert?jake, established relationship, emotional comfort, smut, heavy whininess & vocal, praise, cum play (cheek & dimple focused), begging, dirty talk, slow & intimate oral (both receiving) fingering, creampie tease, lots of “i love you”s during it.

lmk if i missed smth.࣪𖤐.ᐟ

⁀➴ may: dude, this was actually supposed to be an x reader 😭 but i was lowkey high while writing it and somehow ended up writing the whole thing in first person and atp i genuinely do not possess the mental, emotional or spiritual strength required to go back and turn everything into second person because i just got done with a FOUR HOUR project and my brain currently resembles overcooked spaghetti so yeah. we ball. anyway, enjoy the fic and my taglist and requests are officially open!! although… on that note… if you wanna send a request, please do it in private messages because i deadass feel like a victorian child being handed an iphone every time i try to figure out tumblr settings. i‘ve spent an embarrassing amount of time trying to add a requests section to my profile and somehow still have no clue what I’m doing. the requests are OPEN. the button is NAWT. we are working through our differences.

ANYWAYYYYY.

enough yapping.

one, two, three—

GOON 🏃💨

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The first time Jake did it, I thought it was an accident.

But the second time… I knew better.

I was on my knees on his bedroom floor, the carpet rough against my skin, my jaw already starting to ache in that delicious way. Jake’s cock was heavy on my tongue, thick and throbbing, stretching my lips wide. His thighs were trembling under my palms. Every time I swallowed around him, he let out these soft, broken little sounds that made my pussy clench.

He was so close. I could feel it — the way his stomach kept tightening, the way his breathing turned ragged.

And then he pulled out.

I blinked up at him, lips shiny and parted, confused for half a second. Before I could say anything, his hand wrapped around his slick cock, stroking it fast and desperate. The flushed, leaking tip pressed right against my cheek — not my mouth, not my tongue — but directly into the soft dip of my dimple.

“J-Jake…?” I whispered.

He whimpered, high and needy. “P-please… baby, just— just stay right there. Don’t move. I’m so close— hah— I need it right here. Please let me cum on your dimple.”

His voice was shaking. His hand kept moving, slow and tight, rubbing the wet head of his cock in little circles against that one spot. I could feel how warm and slippery he was against my skin. My thighs pressed together instinctively. Something about how desperate he sounded, how fixated he was on that tiny part of my face, made heat bloom low in my belly.

I tilted my head slightly, offering him more of my cheek.

“Okay,” I breathed. “Cum there, baby.”

Jake’s eyes fluttered. A broken moan slipped out as he rubbed himself faster against my dimple, the tip catching on the little crease. It took him less than a minute before he was whimpering my name and painting my cheek with thick, warm ropes of cum. He kept pressing against that spot even as he came, like he couldn’t bear to pull away.

That became our thing.

And tonight was one of his bad days.

Jake had barely spoken since he got home. He just pulled me gently into the bedroom, sat down on the edge of my bed, and looked at me with tired, hungry eyes. I didn’t need him to explain. I simply sank down between his spread thighs, resting my hands on his knees.

I took my time undoing his jeans, slowly pulling them down along with his boxers until his cock sprang free. He was already so hard — flushed dark, leaking steadily at the tip. I wrapped my hand around the base and gave him one long, slow stroke.

Jake’s head tipped back, a shaky breath leaving him.

“R-rough day?” I asked softly, still stroking him with slow, deliberate movements.

He nodded, biting his lip. “Yeah… really rough.”

“You don’t have to talk about it,” I murmured, leaning forward to press a soft kiss right at the base of his cock. “Just let me make you feel better.”

I dragged my tongue slowly up the entire length of him, tracing every vein, savoring the salty taste of his precum. Jake’s hand found my hair, fingers gently threading through it, but he didn’t push. He never did. He just held on like I was keeping him grounded.

When I finally took him into my mouth, sinking down inch by inch until he was nestled against the back of my throat, Jake let out a long, broken whimper.

“Oh my god… baby— your mouth is so— hah— so warm,” he whined, voice cracking. “Feels so fucking good… I don’t fucking deserve this.”

I hummed around him, the vibration making his thighs twitch. I worked him slowly, savoring every inch — pulling back until just the head was in my mouth, swirling my tongue around it, then sliding back down until my nose brushed his stomach. Wet, lazy sounds filled the room as I took my time sucking him.

Every time I pulled off to breathe, I looked up at him and smiled — deliberately letting that dimple appear on my right cheek.

Jake’s reaction was always the same.

“F-fuck…” he whimpered, eyes glued to my face. “That little dimple— ahh— it kills me every time. You have no idea what it does to me.”

I could feel myself getting wetter just from his desperation. The way he stared at my cheek like it was the only thing in the world that mattered made my clit throb.

I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock again, stroking in time with my mouth while I kept smiling up at him, dimple on full display.

Jake’s breathing grew more ragged. His hips started making tiny, helpless little movements, barely rocking into my mouth.

“I’m— mmh— I’m getting close already,” he whined, voice high and shaky. “Baby, please… can I— can I pull out? I need to cum on it. Please let me cum on your pretty dimple tonight. I need it so bad—”

I pulled off slowly, keeping my hand moving on his slick cock.

“You wanna paint my cheek again?” I asked, voice low and teasing. I tilted my head, offering him the right side of my face.

Jake nodded frantically, lips parted, eyes glassy. “Yes— please. I’ve been thinking about it all day. Just— just your dimple. Nothing else.”

He stood up slightly, stroking himself with fast, desperate strokes while I stayed on my knees, cheek turned toward him. The wet sound of his hand moving over his cock was loud in the quiet room. His free hand came down to cup my jaw, thumb gently pressing into the dip of my dimple like he was memorizing the shape.

“Right here,” he whispered, almost to himself. “This little spot… fuck, I’m so fucking obsessed with it.”

I smiled again, deepening the dimple under his thumb.

That pushed him over the edge.

Jake let out a long, pathetic string of whimpers and moans as he pressed the head of his cock right against my dimple and came. Thick, hot spurts of cum splashed across my cheek, filling the little crease and slowly dripping down toward my jaw. He kept grinding the sensitive tip against that exact spot through every pulse, whining softly with every twitch of his cock.

When he finally finished, he was breathing hard, staring down at the mess he’d made on my face with something like awe.

I stayed perfectly still, letting his cum sit warm on my skin, feeling it slowly start to cool and drip.

“Better?” I asked quietly, looking up at him.

Jake nodded, still catching his breath. “So much better… thank you, baby.”

He reached for a tissue, but I caught his wrist.

“Not yet,” I whispered. “I want to keep it on me a little longer.”

His eyes darkened with fresh heat.

Jake stared at my face with dark, hungry eyes, completely fixated on his own thick cum still glistening across my cheek, especially settled deep in the soft dip of my dimple. His cock rested hot and heavy against my thigh, twitching every few seconds as he hovered over me.

“You really want to keep it there a little longer?” he whispered, voice shaky.

I nodded, biting my lip. “Yeah… I like feeling you on me like this.”

A soft, needy whimper escaped him. He slowly lowered himself between my spread thighs, careful and gentle. His hand slid down my body with agonizing slowness, fingertips brushing over my stomach, my hips, before finally reaching between my legs.

He pushed my panties to the side with trembling fingers. The moment his fingertips grazed my soaked folds, I squirmed hard, hips twitching up toward his touch.

“Baby…” he breathed, voice cracking. “You’re so fucking wet. All this because I came on your pretty dimple?”

I nodded quickly, already breathing heavier. “Please, Jake, hmm? touch me.”

He took his time, so much time. His fingers explored me lazily, spreading my slickness everywhere, teasing my entrance without pushing in yet. I couldn’t stay still — my hips kept rolling and squirming beneath him, chasing more pressure.

Finally, he slowly pushed one finger inside me.

I gasped sharply, back arching as I felt him sink in so deep and slow. My walls fluttered around the intrusion, and Jake let out a broken whimper right against my neck.

“Oh my god… you’re so warm and so fucking tight around my finger,” he whined, voice trembling. “I love you… I love you so much.”

He started pumping his finger in and out with excruciating slowness, curling it gently on every stroke. I squirmed underneath him, thighs shaking as little whimpers started spilling from my lips.

“Jake— fuck— feels so good,” I moaned softly, hips rolling in tiny, desperate circles.

He added a second finger, stretching me open so gradually I felt every single millimeter. The fullness made me writhe against the sheets, toes already starting to curl as pleasure bloomed low in my belly.

“You‘re fucking perfect,” I whimpered, fingers digging into his shoulders. “So, so, so fucking perfect, god—”

Jake moaned pathetically, eyes locked on my cum-covered cheek. Every time I gasped or whined, my dimple would deepen, and his fingers would stutter inside me.

“Smile for me again, baby… please,” he begged, voice cracking with desperation. “I need to see it while I’m inside you.”

I smiled through the haze of pleasure, and Jake whimpered loudly, fingers curling deeper.

“F-fuck— there it is,” he whined, pumping his fingers a little faster but still so deep and deliberate. “My cum looks so pretty in your dimple… you’re so perfect.”

I was squirming nonstop now — hips rolling, back arching, thighs trembling and squeezing around his wrist. The wet, obscene sounds of his fingers slowly fucking into my soaked pussy filled the room.

“Jake— oh god— right there,” I whined, voice getting higher and needier. “Feels so deep… I can’t— hah— I can’t stay still—”

“Don’t stay still,” he moaned, pressing his forehead to mine. “Squirm for me, baby. I love watching you fall apart like this. Good girl— fuck you‘re so good for me , baby.”

His thumb found my swollen clit and started rubbing slow, slick circles. The added stimulation made me cry out, body jerking hard against him. Stars were already starting to flicker behind my eyelids every time he curled his fingers just right.

My toes curled tightly into the sheets. My hips kept grinding and squirming desperately against his hand, completely out of control now. Pleasure was building heavier and heavier, thick and molten in my core.

“I’m— Jake, I’m getting so close—” I whimpered pathetically, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. “Please don’t stop— Please—Ple—nghh—”

“I’m not stopping,” he whined, fingers pumping deeper, thumb rubbing faster. “Cum for me, baby. Please. I need to feel you. I love you— I love you— I love you—”

It crashed into me without warning.

My toes curled so hard my feet cramped. My entire body seized up, back arching sharply off the bed as blinding white stars exploded violently behind my eyelids. A loud, broken whine tore from my throat as my pussy clamped down around his fingers, pulsing and fluttering wildly.

“Jake—! Fuck—Jake— mphh—!” I cried out, voice completely wrecked. My hips jerked and squirmed uncontrollably against his hand as wave after wave of intense pleasure ripped through me. My thighs shook violently. My vision went hazy with sparkling stars. I couldn’t stop whimpering and moaning his name, completely lost in the overwhelming sensation.

Jake kept slowly fucking me through it with his fingers, whimpering and moaning right along with me like my orgasm was affecting him too.

“F-fuck, you’re cumming so hard,” he whined shakily, pressing desperate kisses all over my face, especially over his drying cum on my dimple. “You’re squeezing my fingers so tight— so beautiful— so fucking beautiful, star.”

I kept trembling and squirming underneath him for what felt like forever, soft little aftershocks making me twitch and whimper every few seconds. My toes slowly uncurled as the pleasure finally began to fade, leaving me a panting, sweaty, whiny mess.

Jake gently pulled his fingers out and brought them to his lips, sucking them clean with a soft, satisfied moan. Then he collapsed beside me, pulling me tightly into his arms, burying his face in my neck.

We stayed like that, breathing hard, his cum still marking my cheek, his hard cock pressed against my hip.

“I love you,” I whispered, voice hoarse and trembling.

Jake kissed the cum-stained dimple on my cheek and held me even closer.

“I love you more, baby. So much more.”

[angelvvii]

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pairing: jake sim x fem!reader

rating: explicit| 18+ only| mdni (or do, idgaf)

wc:6,3k (oopsie?)

⋆｡°✩ ───── ☾ ───── ✩°｡⋆

𝙨 𝙮 𝙣 𝙤 𝙥 𝙨 𝙞 𝙨

jake, your roommate who’s been secretly obsessed with you for six months — stealing glances at your tiny shorts, jerking off to the sound of you moaning when you stretch, and memorizing every little habit of yours until one night when he finally snaps.

|tw: 𝟷𝟾+ 𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢, minor dni. porn with NO plot, (zero plot, straight filth) somnophilia / dubcon → consensual (starts while you’re “asleep,” you wake up and beg for it) roommate AU with heavy mutual pining + slight yandere/obsession vibes size kink, detailed, creampie, breeding talk, cum leaking jake is very whiny, whimpery, and vocal (moaning, stuttering, whining between words) oral (jake eating pussy + desperate mattress humping) dirty talk (praise + light degradation) slight possessiveness? slight choking. unprotected sex (do it) p in v,

idk manew lmk if i missed smth

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Jake couldn't sleep. Again.

It was becoming a real fucking problem at this point—this insatiable, gnawing ache that settled deep in his gut every night without fail. Every time he closed his eyes, images of you flashed behind his eyelids like a dirty film he couldn't turn off. The way your lips wrapped around your morning coffee, slow and deliberate, leaving a faint gloss on the rim. How your shorts rode up your thighs when you sat cross-legged on the couch, the soft fabric bunching and exposing the smooth, warm skin he kept catching himself staring at. The fucking sound you made when you stretched after a long day of classes—a soft, breathy little moan that slipped from your throat and went straight to his cock, making it twitch hard against his thigh.

He groaned into his pillow, the fabric damp from the heat of his breath, and shifted onto his side. His body felt feverish, heavy with frustration. The sheets tangled around his legs, doing nothing to ease the insistent throb between them. He willed his mind to calm the fuck down, to think about anything else—work, the leaky faucet in the kitchen, tomorrow's errands. But the universe, it seemed, had other plans for him tonight.

Because through the thin walls of your shared apartment, he could hear you. The soft rustle of your sheets as you turned over. A quiet, contented sigh that spilled from your room and directly into his racing mind, wrapping around every filthy thought he'd tried to bury.

You'd been roommates for six months now. Six months of torture. Six months of Jake pretending he wasn't completely obsessed with you, with your body, with every little thing you did. He'd memorized your schedule—what time you woke up, the exact rhythm of the shower water when you washed your hair, which nights you stayed in curled up with a book versus when you went out with friends in those tight little tops that made his jaw clench. He knew more about you than any roommate should—the way you hummed when you cooked, how your laugh filled the living room, the faint scent of your vanilla body lotion that lingered in the bathroom long after you'd left. But he couldn't bring himself to care about how wrong it was. Not when every glimpse of you made his blood run hotter.

And tonight, with you just one room away, asleep and completely unaware, Jake felt his last thread of self-control snap like a rubber band pulled too tight.

His feet hit the cold floor before his brain caught up, the chill biting into his bare soles and sending a shiver up his spine. The hallway was dark, quiet except for the soft hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen and the heavy thud of his own heartbeat in his ears. He told himself he just needed water. That's all this was. A quick trip to the kitchen, a splash of cold on his face, and then back to bed like a responsible adult.

But his feet carried him past the kitchen. Past the bathroom. Straight to your door.

Your bedroom door was cracked open, just enough for the faint glow of your bedside lamp to spill into the hallway like a golden invitation he had no right to accept. You always left it on—a habit from childhood, you'd told him once over breakfast, your cheeks flushing slightly as you admitted to being scared of the dark. Jake thought it was adorable. He thought everything about you was adorable. And dangerous. And so fucking tempting.

He pushed the door open slowly, wincing at the faint creak of the hinges. The sound seemed to echo in the silence, loud as a gunshot to his heightened senses, and he froze, heart pounding against his ribs like a caged animal. Every muscle in his body tensed, waiting for any sign that you'd heard him—the shift of sheets, a sleepy question, the click of your lamp turning on.

Nothing.

You were fast asleep — or were you?— curled up on your side with one arm tucked under your pillow and the other stretched out across the empty space beside you, as if reaching for something in your dreams. Your hair was fanned out across the mattress, a messy halo that caught the soft light and gleamed like silk. And those fucking pajama shorts—the ones with the little bows on the hem—had ridden up dangerously high on your thighs, exposing the soft, smooth skin that Jake had spent countless nights imagining touching, tasting, gripping.

He exhaled shakily, running a hand through his disheveled hair, fingers catching on the damp strands at his nape. His cock strained against his boxers, already leaking, the fabric clinging uncomfortably to the swollen head.

What the fuck am I doing?

This was wrong. He knew it was wrong. You were his roommate, his friend, someone who trusted him enough to share this apartment, to leave your door cracked open without a second thought. And here he was, standing in your doorway in the middle of the night like some kind of depraved predator, breathing hard and fighting the urge to palm himself right there.

But then you shifted. Slowly. Your legs fell open just a fraction, the movement lazy and unconscious, and you let out this tiny, breathy whimper that hit him like a punch to the gut. His cock throbbed painfully, a bead of precum soaking through his boxers as heat flooded his veins.

That was it. That was the final nail in his coffin.

He moved before he could stop himself, crossing the small distance between the door and your bed in two quick strides, each step feeling heavier than the last, like wading through molasses. The floorboards creaked under his weight, a low protest that made his stomach twist, but you didn't stir. You were completely out, lost in whatever dreams had taken you for the night, your chest rising and falling in slow, even breaths that made your tank top cling to the soft curves of your breasts.

For a long moment, Jake just stood there, looming over your sleeping form like some kind of predator. His chest rose and fell with each labored breath, his fingers twitching at his sides as the air between you thickened with unbearable tension. He could smell you—vanilla and warm skin and that faint floral shampoo that always drove him insane. His mouth watered. His hands ached.

Then, slowly, carefully, he lowered himself onto the edge of your mattress.

The bed dipped under his weight, the mattress sighing softly, and he held his breath, every nerve on fire as he waited for you to wake. To scream. To demand to know what the fuck he was doing in your room in the middle of the night.

But you didn't.

You just snuggled deeper into your pillow, letting out another soft sigh that made Jake's head spin and his cock jerk against his thigh. The heat from your body radiated toward him, pulling him closer like a magnet.

His hand trembled as he reached out, fingertips hovering for what felt like an eternity before brushing against your hip. Your skin was so fucking soft—softer than he'd imagined in all those desperate late-night fantasies, warm and smooth like velvet under his calloused fingers. The touch was featherlight, barely there, but it sent a jolt of electricity straight through his body, straight to his aching cock. He bit back a groan, feeling the way your skin pebbled slightly under his touch.

"Fuck," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper, raw and strained.

He should stop. He should turn around, go back to his room, and jerk off in the privacy of his own space like a normal person. That was the right thing. The smart thing.

But Jake wasn't thinking with his brain right now. All the blood in his body had rushed south, leaving him dizzy and desperate and completely out of control. The tension in the room was suffocating, every second stretching out as his hand lingered on your hip, thumb stroking the tiniest circle against your skin.

He shifted closer, inch by agonizing inch, his body moving of its own accord until his chest was pressed against your back. You were so small compared to him, so delicate, and the contrast made his head swim. His arm draped over your waist, slow and careful, pulling you flush against him. The moment your ass nestled against his crotch, the heat of you seeping through the thin layers of fabric, he nearly lost it. His cock throbbed hard, trapped between your bodies, the friction making stars burst behind his eyelids.

You stirred slightly in your sleep, a soft "Mm" escaping your lips, your body instinctively pressing back into his warmth.

"Jake?" you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep, barely coherent.

He froze. Every muscle in his body locked up as he waited, heart hammering so loud he was sure you'd hear it. The seconds dragged on, thick with unbearable tension.

But you didn't pull away.

Instead, you snuggled closer, pressing your ass back against his crotch in a slow, unconscious roll that made him bite his lip hard enough to draw blood. The pressure was exquisite torture—your soft, warm curves molding perfectly against his rock-hard length.

"Thought you were at your girlfriend's," you mumbled, your words slurring together, still half-lost in sleep.

Jake's mind reeled. Girlfriend? What fucking girlfriend? But the words died in his throat as you drifted again, your breathing evening out, your body going slack yet still pressed so intimately against him.

And Jake? Jake was in fucking hell.

Your ass was pressed right against his aching cock, separated only by the thin fabric of his boxers and your tiny pajama shorts. He could feel the heat radiating from your core, the way your body fit against his like it was made for him. Every tiny shift of your hips sent sparks shooting up his spine. He stayed like that for long, torturous minutes, just breathing you in, fighting the overwhelming urge to grind against you.

But then you shifted again in your sleep, your hips moving in a lazy little circle, and suddenly there was friction—delicious, torturous friction that made Jake's vision blur at the edges.

"Shit," he hissed through gritted teeth, the word barely audible.

He couldn't do this. He shouldn't do this.

But his hips had other plans. The first roll was almost involuntary, a shallow drag of his cock against the swell of your ass that sent pleasure exploding through him. He stilled immediately after, chest heaving, waiting. Watching. The tension coiled tighter in his gut.

Nothing. You slept on.

Emboldened yet terrified, he moved again—slower this time, more deliberate. His cock slid against the curve of your ass, the fabric creating just enough drag to make him dizzy. He could feel every inch of you, the heat, the softness, the way your body responded even in sleep with tiny, unconscious twitches. His hand, resting on your hip, began to wander, fingertips tracing the curve of your waist, dipping under the hem of your pajama top to feel the bare, fever-warm skin of your stomach. You shivered under his touch, a full-body tremor that made his balls tighten.

"Jake?" you mumbled again, clearer this time, hovering on the edge of awareness.

He froze, hand splayed across your stomach, heart in his throat.

But you pressed back harder, a soft, needy moan escaping your lips as your ass ground deliberately against his throbbing cock.

The tension snapped.

Jake's breath caught in his throat as your ass pressed back against him with more purpose, the slow grind sending white-hot sparks racing up his spine. His cock throbbed violently between your bodies, trapped against the soft, yielding flesh of your ass, the thin fabric doing almost nothing to dull the searing heat radiating from you. He could feel the dampness starting to seep through your shorts—your arousal mixing with his own precum—and the realization made his head spin.

He stayed perfectly still for several agonizing seconds, every muscle coiled tight, waiting for you to fully wake. To realize. To push him away or pull him closer. The silence stretched, thick and heavy, broken only by the sound of your breathing and the pounding of his own heart.

Then your hand moved—slowly, lazily—reaching back to rest on his thigh. Your fingers flexed once, digging in just enough for him to feel your nails through his boxers.

"Jake..." you whispered again, voice husky and low, still laced with sleep but unmistakably aware now. The way you said his name made his cock twitch hard against you.

He swallowed thickly, his mouth dry. "You... you're awake."

A soft, breathy laugh escaped you, the sound vibrating through your back and into his chest. "Have been for a few minutes." Your hips rolled again, slower this time, deliberate, dragging the curve of your ass along the entire aching length of his cock. "Felt you watching me. Felt you get on the bed."

Jake let out a shaky, pathetic sound, the sound guttural and broken. His forehead dropped to the back of your neck, lips brushing against your warm skin as he inhaled your scent—vanilla, faint sweat, and something undeniably feminine that made his mouth water. His hand on your stomach spread wider, fingers splaying across your soft skin, feeling the way your muscles fluttered under his touch.

"You should tell me to leave," he rasped against your neck, even as his hips finally gave in and rolled forward, pressing his rigid cock harder against you. The friction was maddening—slow, heavy drags that made his balls draw up tight. "Tell me to get the fuck out, right now."

But you didn't. Instead, you arched your back slightly, pushing your ass more firmly into his lap, trapping his cock perfectly between your cheeks. The heat between your thighs was intoxicating, even through the fabric.

"I don't want you to leave," you murmured, voice thick. Your fingers trailed higher up his thigh, teasing the hem of his boxers. "I've been waiting for you to finally do something."

The confession hit him like a drug. Jake's grip on your stomach tightened, pulling you impossibly closer until there wasn't a single inch of space between your bodies. He could feel the rapid flutter of your heartbeat against his chest, matching his own frantic rhythm. His free hand slid up your side, pushing your tank top higher, exposing more of your bare skin to the cool air. His fingertips traced every dip and curve—your ribs, the underside of your breast—moving with excruciating slowness, savoring every shiver and hitch in your breath.

"Fuck, you have no idea how long I've wanted this," he moans, lips grazing the shell of your ear. His cock throbbed again, leaking steadily now, the wet spot on his boxers growing. "Every night. Listening to you through the wall. Jerking off — mhm— thinking about these thighs..." His hand slid down, palming the soft flesh of your upper thigh, squeezing gently. "...this fucking ass."

You whimpered softly at his words, the sound going straight to his cock. Your legs parted just a little more, inviting him. The movement caused your shorts to ride up even higher, and Jake's fingers brushed against the edge of the fabric, dangerously close to your core.

He paused there, teasing, letting the tension build until it felt like the air might crack. His fingers hovered, barely grazing the damp heat seeping through your shorts. You pushed back again, trying to chase his touch, but he held you still with his arm around your waist.

"Not yet," he whispered, voice rough. "Been dreaming about this too long to rush it."

He rocked his hips in a slow, filthy grind, letting you feel every thick inch of him sliding between your ass cheeks. The fabric barrier made it torturous—too much and not enough all at once. Each drag pulled a quiet, needy sound from your throat, and Jake drank them in like oxygen.

His hand finally dipped beneath your shorts, moving with agonizing patience. His fingers traced the crease where your thigh met your body, then slowly—painfully slowly—slid inward. The first brush against your bare pussy made you both gasp. You were soaked. Dripping. Your slick coated his fingertips instantly, hot and slippery.

"Jesus Christ," Jake moaned, burying his face in your hair. "Fuck— You're fucking drenched for me."

He circled your clit with one finger, featherlight at first, feeling it swell and throb under his touch. Your hips jerked, chasing more pressure, but he kept it torturously light, drawing out every sensation. His cock continued its slow grind against your ass, perfectly in time with the movement of his hand.

You reached back, fingers finally slipping under his waistband, wrapping around his bare cock. The sudden skin-on-skin contact made Jake hiss sharply. Your hand was warm, soft, and so fucking small around his thick length. You stroked him slowly, thumb swirling over the leaking head, spreading his precum.

"Been wanting to feel this," you whispered, voice trembling with arousal. "Wanted you inside me for months."

Jake's exhaled sharply, control frayed further. He pushed two fingers inside you without warning—slowly, stretching you open, feeling your tight walls flutter and clench around him. You were so wet that they slid in easily, but he took his time, curling them, searching for that spot that made your breath catch.

When he found it, your moan was louder, rawer. Your hand tightened around his cock, stroking him with more urgency, but still matching his deliberate pace.

The room filled with the obscene sounds of his fingers working in and out of your soaked pussy, the wet squelch mixing with your shared heavy breathing. Jake's hips kept moving, grinding his cock against your ass while he fingered you, the dual sensation driving him closer to the edge with every passing second.

He pressed his lips to your neck, sucking gently, then harder, marking you. His teeth grazed your skin as he added a third finger, stretching you wider, preparing you.

"Jake..." you moaned, pushing back onto his fingers. "Please. I need you."

He pulled his fingers out slowly, savoring the way your pussy tried to keep them inside, then brought them to his mouth, tasting you with a deep groan.

"You'll get me,baby" he promised in a breathy whisper, voice dark. "But I'm taking my time with you tonight."

He pulled his fingers out of you with deliberate slowness, savoring the way your pussy clenched around them like it didn’t want to let go. A thick string of your arousal stretched between his fingers and your dripping folds before breaking. Jake brought those fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean with a low, filthy groan that vibrated against your back.

“Fuck— oh god— mhmm— you taste even better than i fucking imagined,” he moaned, voice wrecked.

Before you could respond, he shifted. In one smooth but hungry movement, he rolled you onto your back and positioned himself between your spread thighs. The mattress dipped under his weight as he settled low, his broad shoulders pushing your legs further apart. Your pajama shorts were still bunched around your knees, and he yanked them the rest of the way off, tossing them aside.

He paused there for a moment, just staring. The lamplight cast a warm glow over your glistening pussy, swollen and slick, clit peeking out from its hood. Jake’s mouth watered. His cock was painfully hard, trapped against the mattress, already leaking a steady stream of precum onto the sheets.

He lowered his head slowly, dragging it out, letting the tension coil tighter. His hot breath fanned across your sensitive skin, making your thighs tremble. Then his tongue—flat, broad, and greedy—dragged a long, slow stripe from your entrance all the way up to your clit.

The moan that tore from your throat was raw.

Jake whimpered against your pussy like a starving man, the vibration shooting straight through you. He licked you again, slower this time, savoring every drop of your wetness. His hips started moving on their own—desperate, shameful rolls against the mattress. He humped the bed like a dog in heat, grinding his aching cock into the sheets while his tongue worked between your folds.

“Jake—oh fuck—” you gasped, your fingers threading into his hair, gripping tight.

He ate you like he was possessed. Long, messy strokes of his tongue, circling your clit before sucking it gently between his lips. Then he dipped lower, pushing his tongue inside you, fucking you with it in shallow thrusts. The wet, obscene sounds filled the room—his mouth slurping and licking, mixed with the rhythmic creak of the bed as he desperately humped the mattress.

His cock dragged against the sheets, the friction rough and imperfect, but he couldn’t stop. Every time you moaned or rolled your hips against his face, his own hips jerked harder, rutting pathetically into the bed. Precum smeared across his stomach and the sheets. The burning need in his groin was almost unbearable, but he refused to stop tasting you.

He moaned loudly into your pussy, the sound muffled and desperate. “Could eat this fucking pussy for hours,” he rasped, voice thick with spit and your arousal. His nose pressed against your clit as he licked deeper, his hips grinding faster now, chasing any kind of relief.

Your thighs started shaking around his head. The pleasure built in heavy, pulsing waves—his warm, wet tongue working you open, the obscene sounds of him devouring you, the sight of his muscular back flexing as he humped the bed like he was losing his mind.

You were close already. So fucking close.

But Jake pulled back just before you tipped over the edge, his lips shiny and swollen. He looked feral, eyes dark with lust as he crawled up your body. His cock—thick, heavy, and flushed dark red—slapped against your inner thigh, leaving a trail of precum on your skin.

He gripped himself, stroking once, twice, spreading your wetness and his own spit along his length. Then he lined up, the fat head of his cock nudging against your soaked entrance.

“You sure?” he asked, voice strained, even though his hips were already twitching forward.

“Yes,” you breathed, pulling him down into a messy kiss. “Want you to fuck me.”

Jake pushed in.

The first inch was slow, deliberate. The burning stretch hit you immediately—his thick cock forcing your tight walls to part around him, a sharp, delicious sting that made your breath hitch. He was big. Thicker than you’d expected. The sensation was intense, almost too much, but the overwhelming fullness made your eyes roll back.

“Fuck—Jake—” you whimpered, nails digging into his shoulders.

He let out a shaky, needy whimper,forehead pressed to yours, jaw clenched tight. Inch by inch, he sank deeper, savoring the way your pussy fluttered and clenched around him, trying to adjust. The burning stretch slowly melted into a heavy, throbbing pleasure as he bottomed out, his hips flush against yours, balls pressed against your ass.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking tight,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Can feel you pulsing around me.”

He stayed buried deep inside you, hips flush against yours, breathing hard through his mouth. The burning stretch of his thick cock filling you was still so intense—your walls fluttering and pulsing around every inch of him, trying to accommodate his size. His cock twitched inside you, thick and hot, stretching you open so completely it felt like he was reshaping you.

Then he started moving—slow, deep rolls of his hips. Each thrust dragged against that sensitive spot inside you, the burning stretch returning every time he pulled back and pushed in again, only to bloom into blinding pleasure.

His mouth found yours in a desperate kiss, tongues sliding together as he fucked you with deep, measured strokes. The wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy mixed with your shared moans and the creak of the bed.

Jake’s forehead pressed harder against yours, his whole body trembling with the effort of holding still. A soft, broken whimper escaped him, high and needy.

“F-fuck… oh my god—” he whined, voice cracking. “You’re so—ahh— so fucking tight. I c-can’t… hah—”

He pulled back just a little, slow and careful, only to push back in again. The drag was exquisite, that same burning stretch flaring up as your pussy clenched around his retreating cock, then blooming into heavy, throbbing pleasure when he sank back in. His hips stuttered, a desperate little jerk that made you both gasp.

Jake’s face dropped to your neck, lips parted against your skin as another whimper slipped out, muffled and pathetic.

“S-so warm… so wet—mmh— I’m losing my fucking mind,” he moaned, the words shaky and interrupted by soft, breathy sounds. Every shallow thrust made him whine quietly, his voice raw with desperation. “Been wanting this for s-so long—ahh, fuck— you’re squeezing me so good.”

His hips started moving in earnest now—slow, deep rolls that dragged his cock along every sensitive inch inside you. The wet, slick sounds of your pussy taking him filled the room, obscene and filthy. Jake couldn’t stop the sounds spilling from his throat. Every thrust pulled a new whimper or moan from him.

He braced himself on his forearms, hovering over you so he could watch your face. His eyes were glassy, lips swollen and parted as he panted.

“Feels— hah— feels better than I imagined,” he whined, voice breaking on the last word. “Your pussy is— mmh— fucking perfect. So hot. So fucking tight around me— oh god—”

You arched beneath him, nails digging into his back as another wave of burning pleasure shot through you when he ground his hips in a slow circle, pressing even deeper. The head of his cock nudged against that spot inside you, making your toes curl.

Jake’s rhythm faltered, turning into desperate little thrusts as he buried his face in your neck again.

“I’m— ahh— I’m trying to go slow but you feel too good,” he moaned, the words stuttering out between shaky breaths. “W-wanna stay buried in you forever— fuck, I’m whining like a bitch but I c-can’t stop— hah— please—”

His hips snapped forward a little harder on the next thrust, pulling a sharp cry from you and a long, needy whimper from him. He was trembling, muscles tight, clearly fighting the urge to fuck you faster. Instead, he kept the pace torturously slow, letting you feel every thick inch stretching you open again and again.

He kissed you messily, tongues sliding together as he continued those deep, grinding thrusts. Between kisses, he kept whimpering against your mouth.

“You’re— mmh— you’re dripping down my cock,” he whined, voice wrecked and desperate. “Can feel it— ahh— running down my balls. You’re so fucking wet for me— oh fuck—”

One of his hands slid down between your bodies, fingers finding your swollen clit. He rubbed it in slow, slick circles, matching the rhythm of his hips. The added stimulation made your pussy clamp down harder around him, and Jake let out a high-pitched moan that bordered on a sob.

“F-fuck—! Don’t do that— I’m gonna— hah— I’m gonna lose it,” he whimpered, hips stuttering again as he fought to keep control. “Want to make you cum first— please— mmmh— cum on my cock while I’m stretching you like this.”

His thrusts stayed deep and deliberate, that constant burning stretch mixing with toe-curling pleasure every single time he bottomed out. Jake’s whimpers and moans grew louder, more broken, as he rubbed your clit faster, his own desperation leaking into every shaky breath and needy sound.

Jake’s hips rolled forward again in that same devastatingly slow rhythm, pushing every thick inch of his cock back into your soaked heat. The stretch was still there — that delicious, burning pull as your walls were forced to open around his girth. It wasn’t painful anymore, but the intensity made your toes curl and your breath catch every single time he bottomed out.

You moaned softly beneath him, fingers digging harder into the muscles of his back. “Jake… fuck— you’re so deep,” you whispered, voice trembling. Your pussy fluttered around him involuntarily, squeezing his length as another wave of slick heat dripped down between you.

He whimpered against your neck, the sound broken and needy. “Hah— oh god, y-you keep clenching like that and I— mmh— I’m not gonna last,” he whined, hips stuttering for a moment before he forced them back into that torturously slow grind. “Feels too good… your pussy is— ahh— sucking me in. So hot. So fucking wet.”

You arched your back, pressing your breasts against his chest as you rolled your hips up to meet him. The movement made his cock drag against that perfect spot inside you, sending sparks shooting up your spine. A needy moan slipped from your lips, louder than you intended.

“Don’t stop,” you breathed, one hand sliding up to grip the back of his neck, nails scraping lightly against his skin. “I’ve wanted this for so long too… wanted to feel you stretching me open just like this.”

Jake’s whole body shuddered at your words. He lifted his head to look at you, eyes glassy and desperate, lips parted as soft pants and whimpers kept falling from him. “Y-yeah? You thought about me fucking you?” he moaned, voice cracking between words. “Thought about my cock buried inside you while you were lying in here alone?”

He punctuated the question with a slow, deep thrust, grinding his hips in a tight circle when he was fully seated. The pressure against your cervix made your eyes flutter shut, a burning fullness spreading through your lower belly.

“Yes— fuck— yes,” you gasped, legs wrapping tighter around his waist. “Every night. I’d touch myself thinking about you… mmh… hearing you through the wall and wishing you’d just come in here and take me.”

A high-pitched whine tore from Jake’s throat. His fingers on your clit stuttered for a second before resuming those slow, slick circles. “F-fuck… you’re gonna kill me saying shit like that,” he whimpered, burying his face in your neck again. His hips kept moving in those long, dragging strokes — pulling almost all the way out until just the fat head of his cock stretched your entrance, then sinking back in so slowly you felt every vein, every ridge.

The burning sensation flared again with every re-entry, that perfect mix of slight sting and overwhelming pleasure that had your head spinning. Your juices coated him completely, making the slide wetter, filthier. You could hear it — the soft, obscene squelch every time he pushed inside.

You reached down between your bodies, wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock where he was sliding in and out of you. Jake moaned sharply at the contact, hips jerking.

“Feel how wet I am for you?” you murmured, voice husky. Your fingers got slick instantly as you stroked what little of him wasn’t buried inside you. “All this is because of you, Jake.”

He let out a pathetic little whine, trembling above you. “S-stop— hah— you’re making me throb so much,” he moaned, voice breaking. “I can feel it… feel how tight you are every time I push in. It burns a little when I stretch you, doesn’t it? Tell me.”

You nodded quickly, biting your lip as another deep thrust made that exact burning stretch bloom again. “Yes— it burns so good. You’re so thick… I can feel you opening me up. Don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop.”

Encouraged, Jake shifted his weight, hooking one of your legs higher over his hip. The new angle let him sink even deeper. He whimpered loudly as he bottomed out again, the sound turning into a series of soft, desperate moans as he kept grinding.

“Oh my god— oh fuck— you’re taking me so well,” he whined, hips stuttering in shallow little thrusts while staying pressed deep. “I c-can’t believe this is real. Can’t believe I’m finally inside you— ahh— finally fucking the girl I’ve been obsessed with.”

You cupped his face, pulling him into a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Tongues slid together slowly, matching the pace of his hips. Between kisses you kept whispering against his lips.

“Harder, Jake… I can take it. Want to feel you lose control a little.”

He moaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating through you. “Trying to be gentle— mmh— don’t wanna hurt you. But fuck— you feel so good I just wanna— hah— bury myself and never leave.”

Still, he gave you what you asked for. His next thrust was a little harder, a little deeper. The slap of skin was soft but audible. That burning stretch returned stronger, making you cry out softly into his mouth. Pleasure and slight discomfort twisted together until you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began — it just felt overwhelming.

Jake’s fingers kept working your clit, faster now, slick and steady. Your pussy clamped down around him again and he let out a long, broken whimper.

“F-fuck— you’re getting tighter. Are you close? Please tell me you’re close— I need to feel you cum on me,” he whined, voice cracking with desperation. His hips kept that slow, deep pace, but his breathing was ragged, little moans and gasps falling against your ear with every thrust.

“I’m so close,” you moaned, rolling your hips up to meet him. “Just like that— right there— oh god, Jake—”

He kept the angle perfect, grinding against that spot inside you on every forward motion. The burning fullness mixed with the constant pressure on your clit had you shaking. Your thighs trembled around him. Heat coiled tighter and tighter in your belly until it finally snapped.

You came hard, back arching off the bed as your pussy spasmed around his cock. A loud, shaky moan tore from your throat. Waves of pleasure crashed through you, making your vision blur at the edges. Your walls fluttered and squeezed him rhythmically, trying to pull him even deeper.

Jake’s eyes rolled back, a high-pitched whine escaping him as he felt you cum.

“Oh fuck— oh my god— you’re cumming— you’re cumming on my cock,” he moaned, voice wrecked and stuttering. “It feels— hah— feels so good. So tight— squeezing me so fucking hard— ahh— I can’t— I’m—”

He didn’t pull out. Instead he kept thrusting through your orgasm, slow and deep, whimpering and moaning with every squeeze of your pussy. His own hips started losing rhythm, becoming more desperate.

You were still riding the aftershocks when you felt him start to throb inside you. His cock twitched hard, the burning stretch intensifying as he swelled even more.

“Gonna— mmh— gonna cum,” he whined, burying his face against your shoulder. “Can I— inside? Please let me fill you up— I need it— hah— please—”

“Yes,” you gasped, still trembling, legs locked around him. “Cum inside me, Jake. Fill me.”

That was all it took.

Jake let out a long, broken moan that turned into a series of pathetic whimpers as he came. His hips jerked erratically, pressing as deep as he could while thick ropes of cum spilled inside you. You could feel every pulse, every hot spurt painting your walls. The sensation was overwhelming — warmth spreading deep inside, mixing with your own wetness, some of it already leaking out around his cock.

He kept moving through it, slow, shallow thrusts as he rode out his orgasm, whimpering softly with every twitch of his cock. “F-fuck… so much… can’t stop cumming,” he moaned, voice hoarse.

When he finally stilled, he collapsed on top of you, breathing hard. His cock was still buried deep, softening only slightly. You could feel his cum leaking slowly out of you, warm and messy.

For a long minute, the only sounds were your shared heavy breathing and the faint creak of the bed as you both shifted.

Then Jake lifted his head, eyes soft and hazy as he looked at you. “That was… I’ve never cum that hard in my life,” he whispered, voice still shaky. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, then your jaw, then your neck. “You okay? Did I hurt you?”

You smiled, running your fingers through his messy hair. “I’m perfect. The stretch burned a little but it felt so good.” You clenched around him on purpose, making him whimper again. “Still feel you inside me… all that cum.”

Jake groaned — no, whined — burying his face in your neck once more. “You’re gonna get me hard again saying stuff like that.”

You laughed softly, rolling your hips experimentally. His cock twitched inside you, already starting to thicken again.

“Good,” you murmured, kissing the side of his head. “Because I wasn’t kidding earlier. We have months of lost time to make up for.”

Jake lifted himself on his elbows, looking down at you with that same desperate, hungry expression. His hips gave a slow, testing roll, pushing his half-hard cock deeper into your cum-filled pussy.

“Round two already?” he whimpered, voice cracking with fresh arousal. “You’re really gonna let me keep fucking you tonight?”

You pulled him down into another deep kiss, moaning softly when he started moving again — still slow, still savoring every inch.

“I want you to fuck me until neither of us can move,” you whispered against his lips.

Jake’s answer was a needy little moan as he sank back into that slow, deep rhythm, the wet sounds of his cum being pushed in and out of you filling the room once more.

The night was far from over.

one two three GOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNN

[angelvvii]

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pairing: jake sim x fem!reader

rating: explicit| 18+ only| mdni (or do, idgaf)

wc: 2,5k

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| 𝙨 𝙮 𝙣 𝙤 𝙥 𝙨 𝙞 𝙨

jake who‘s fucking dissociating, where the whole world is glitching and nothing feels real anymore—and the only way to claw his way back, to make shit feel firm and real again, is to touch you, to fuck you, to be inside you.

tw: derealization & depersonalization (the world is glitching, reality is lagging), intense panic/psychological distress, codependency, jake is completely hyper-fixated on you being his only anchor to existence, unsettling/uncanny psychological twist (mirror doppelgänger / psychological horror elements).

the nsfw: explicit smut, rough & frantic pacing, desperate sex used as an unhealthy grounding mechanism, nipple play, unprotected sex (i‘m gon be unique and tell you to do it) p in v, oral sex (f receiving) marking & bruising (heavy gripping, biting), wall/mirror sex, bench sex, messy oral (cunnilingus, jake on his knees), praise, unprotected sex (unplanned creampie). denied orgasm

lmk if i missed somethin, mwah

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The fluorescent lights of the practice room flickered overhead, casting strange shadows across the mirrored walls. Jake stood in the center of the floor, his chest heaving, sweat dripping down his temples as he tried to steady himself. The other members had left hours ago, but he'd stayed behind, needing to perfect the choreography. Or at least, that's what he told himself.

In reality, something was happening to him. Something he couldn't explain.

His hands trembled as he reached for his phone, the screen blurring before his eyes. The text messages from you seemed to pulse with an otherworldly glow, your words bleeding into something else entirely.

i‘m outside. let me in?

He blinked hard. That wasn't right. You were supposed to be at your apartment tonight, studying for finals. He'd memorized your schedule, knew exactly where you were supposed to be at any given moment. It was the only way he could function, knowing where you were, that you were safe, that you were his.

But the lights kept flickering. The reflections in the mirror showed a version of himself that didn't quite match his movements, like reality itself was lagging behind.

"Jake?"

Your voice came from somewhere outside the practice room door, and the sound of it—warm, familiar, real—sent a jolt through his entire nervous system. His knees nearly buckled. He pressed his palms flat against his thighs, trying to anchor himself to something solid, but even his own skin felt foreign.

The door creaked open.

You stood in the doorway, your coat dusted with snow, cheeks pink from the cold. Your eyes found his immediately, and something in your expression shifted from casual concern to genuine alarm. "Hey, you don't look okay. I tried texting, but you didn't answer, and I—"

"I'm fine," he managed, but his voice came out strangled, barely recognizable.

You didn't buy it. You never did. That was the thing about you—you saw right through his bullshit every single time. It was what made him feel so desperate to keep you close. You understood him in ways no one else ever had.

"Jake." You stepped into the room, letting the door fall shut behind you. The lock clicked, and the sound seemed to echo through his skull. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

He shook his head, unable to find the words. How could he explain that reality felt like it was slipping through his fingers? That every time he blinked, he saw fragments of something else—another version of this moment, another version of you? That he was terrified if he let you out of his sight, you'd cease to exist entirely?

"I just..." He swallowed hard, his throat clicking. "I need you. Here. Now. Please."

You hesitated, studying his face with those perceptive eyes that made him feel simultaneously seen and terrified. Something passed between you—understanding, recognition, and beneath it, a current of something deeper. Something that had been building between you for months.

"Okay," you said softly, crossing the room to stand before him. "I'm here."

The moment your hand touched his arm, something inside him snapped.

He grabbed you, pulling you flush against his chest so fast you gasped. His arms wrapped around you like a vice, desperate and unyielding, his face pressing into the curve of your neck. He was shaking—violent, full-body tremors that had nothing to do with the temperature.

„Wha—Jake, you're scaring me," you whispered, but your hands came up to rest against his back, steadying him. Always steadying him.

"I can't—I don't know what's happening," he choked out against your skin. His breath was hot and ragged, each exhale a struggle. "Everything feels wrong. Like I'm not really here. Like none of this is real."

"It's real," you assured him, fingers threading through the damp hair at the nape of his neck. "I'm real. Feel me."

He pulled back just enough to look at your face, his eyes wide and glassy, pupils blown. His gaze traced every detail of your features like he was memorizing you all over again—the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips, the way your eyelashes fluttered when you blinked. His hands came up to cup your jaw, thumbs stroking across your cheekbones.

"Please," he whispered, and his voice cracked on the word. "I need—I need to feel you. Really feel you. It's the only thing that makes this feel real."

Your breath hitched. You understood what he was asking. This wasn't the first time he'd been clingy, possessive, desperate to keep you close. But this was different. This was raw, unfiltered need that bordered on something primal.

"Tell me what you want," you said, your voice dropping lower.

"Everything," he breathed. "Let me have everything."

Your answer was to pull him down by the collar of his practice shirt, your mouth meeting his in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

He groaned into it, the sound ripped from somewhere deep in his chest. His hands slid from your face to your waist, gripping so hard you knew there would be bruises tomorrow. Tomorrow—the concept felt foreign, distant. All that existed was this moment, this feeling, the way your tongue slid against his and your fingers pulled at his hair.

He backed you against the mirrored wall, the cold surface making you shiver as it met your shoulder blades. The reflection showed a tangled mess of limbs, his broad frame caging you in completely. He broke the kiss only to mouth down your neck, teeth grazing your pulse point, tongue soothing the sting.

"You have no idea," he murmured against your throat, "what you do to me. How fucking obsessed I am with you."

"I'm starting to get the picture," you managed, gasping when his hand slid beneath your shirt, palm pressing flat against your stomach.

He pulled back to look at you again, that wild, unhinged look still present in his eyes. "I think about you constantly. Every moment of every day. I wonder where you are, who you're with, if you're thinking about me. I can't focus on anything else. It's like—" He cut himself off, laughing bitterly. "God, I sound insane."

"You're not insane," you said, though your voice wavered. "Just... intense."

"I don't know how to be anything else with you." His hand slid higher, fingers tracing the edge of your bra. "You've completely ruined me. You know that?"

"Jake—"

"Please." The word was a broken plea. "Let me prove how real this is. Let me show you."

Your consent came in the form of a nod, and that was all he needed.

He lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you harder against the mirror. His hips ground into yours, and even through layers of clothing, you could feel how hard he was. The friction made you whimper, head falling back against the glass.

"Fuck," he breathed, watching your reaction with dark, hungry eyes. "You're so responsive. So perfect for me."

His hands worked quickly, tugging your shirt up and over your head, discarding it somewhere behind him. He stared at your chest like it was the first time he'd seen you, reverence and desperation warring across his features. When his mouth found the swell of your breast above your bra, you arched into him, fingers scrabbling against his shoulders.

He made quick work of the clasp, and then you were bare from the waist up, exposed to the cool air and his burning gaze. He didn't waste time—his mouth was on you immediately, tongue circling one nipple while his fingers pinched and rolled the other. The dual sensation had you moaning, your hips bucking against him.

"That's it," he growled against your skin. "Let me hear you. Need to hear you."

He switched sides, giving the other breast equal attention while his hands roamed down to your thighs, gripping and massaging the flesh. Every touch was deliberate, claiming, like he was trying to memorize every inch of you through feel alone.

"Jake, please," you whimpered, not even sure what you were begging for.

He pulled back, his chest heaving, lips swollen and slick. "Tell me what you need."

"You. I need you."

Something shifted in his expression—a moment of clarity breaking through the haze. He stared at you for a long moment, something vulnerable flickering across his face.

"You have me," he said quietly. "You've always had me. That's the problem. I don't know how to fucking exist without you anymore."

The confession hung in the air between you, heavy and raw. You reached up, cupping his face, thumbs brushing across his cheekbones.

"Then don't," you whispered. "Don't exist without me. Just be here. Right now. With me."

He exhaled shakily, then kissed you again—softer this time, but no less intense.

He carried you to the bench along the wall, setting you down before stepping back just long enough to strip off his shirt. Your eyes traced over his torso, the defined muscles of his abdomen, the sheen of sweat still coating his skin. He was beautiful, and he was yours, and the thought made something possessive and wild unfurl in your chest.

He dropped to his knees before you, hands sliding up your thighs to grip the waistband of your jeans. "Can I?"

"Please."

He pulled them down slowly, taking your underwear with them. The cool air hit your exposed core, and you fought the urge to close your legs. But Jake was already there, shoulders pressing your thighs apart, face hovering right where you needed him most.

"I've been dreaming about this," he murmured, breath ghosting over your slick folds. "Every night. Wondering what you taste like, what sounds you make when you fall apart."

He didn't wait for a response. His mouth was on you in an instant, tongue dragging through your folds with a groan that vibrated through your entire body. Your head fell back, a broken cry escaping your lips as he worked you over with desperate enthusiasm.

He was messy about it, uncoordinated in a way that showed how far gone he was. But what he lacked in technique, he made up for in fervor, licking and sucking like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. His fingers dug into your thighs, holding you open for him as he devoured you.

"Jake—oh god—Jake—"

The sound of his name seemed to spur him on. He sealed his lips around your clit, sucking hard, and you nearly came off the bench. One of your hands flew to his hair, gripping tight, and he whined against you, the vibration making your thighs shake.

"Close," you gasped. "I'm close—"

He pulled back suddenly, and you almost sobbed at the loss. But when you looked down at him, his chin slick with your arousal, pupils so blown his eyes looked black, you understood. He needed more. He needed everything.

"Inside," he rasped. "I need to be inside you."

You nodded frantically, and he stood on shaky legs, hands fumbling with his sweatpants. When he finally freed himself, your mouth went dry. He was thick and flushed, tip already leaking, and the sight of his cock standing proud against his toned stomach made your core clench with need.

He stepped between your thighs, lining himself up, and for a moment he just hovered there, eyes locked on yours.

"This is real," he whispered, more to himself than to you. "You're real. We're real."

"Real," you echoed, reaching up to pull him down for a searing kiss.

He pushed forward as your lips met, the head of his cock breaching your entrance. The stretch was overwhelming, bordering on too much, but he swallowed your whimpers with his mouth, hips stilling to let you adjust.

It took everything in him not to move. You could see it in the tension of his jaw, the tremor in his thighs, the way his fingers gripped the edge of the bench hard enough to splinter wood. He was holding back, barely, and the knowledge that you had that kind of effect on him made your head spin.

"Move," you breathed against his lips. "Please, Jake, I need you to move."

He pulled back slowly, agonizingly, until just the tip remained inside you. Then he slammed forward, burying himself to the hilt.

The sound that tore from his throat was inhuman—raw, desperate, wrecked. He set a brutal pace immediately, hips pistoning into you with a fervor that spoke of months of pent-up longing and desperation. Each thrust drove you further up the bench until you had to brace your hands against the mirrored wall behind you.

"Feels—fuck—you feel so good—" His words came out fragmented, broken by harsh breaths and whimpers. "Better than I imagined—so tight—so perfect—"

You couldn't form coherent responses, could only gasp and moan and cling to him as he fucked you within an inch of your sanity. The practice room filled with obscene sounds—skin slapping against skin, the wet squelch of him driving into you, your combined moans echoing off the walls.

He shifted angle, hiking your leg higher around his hip, and the new position had him hitting something deep inside you that made stars explode behind your eyelids.

"There—right there—Jake—"

He whimpered, burying his face in your neck as he maintained that angle, thrusts growing erratic. "Gonna come—I'm gonna—can I? Please—need to fill you up—"

"Yes, yes, yes—come inside me—please—"

His rhythm faltered, hips stuttering as he buried himself as deep as he could go. You felt him pulse inside you, hot spurts of come filling you as he gasped your name like a prayer.

The sensation pushed you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you in waves. Your walls clenched around him, milking every last drop, and he whimpered against your throat, overstimulated but unwilling to pull out.

For long moments, neither of you moved. The only sounds were your mingled breaths, the distant hum of the building's heating system, the faint buzzing of the fluorescent lights overhead.

When he finally lifted his head, the wild look in his eyes had faded to something softer. Gentler. But still desperate, still intense in a way that made your chest ache.

"Thank you," he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours. "For grounding me. For being real."

You carded your fingers through his damp hair, smoothing it back from his face. "Always."

He exhaled shakily, and you felt him soften inside you. But he didn't pull out. Instead, he gathered you closer, holding you like you might disappear if he let go.

"I don't know what the fuck happening to me," he admitted quietly. "But I know that you're the only thing that makes sense anymore."

You wanted to tell him that wasn't healthy. That this level of attachment, this desperate need, wasn't sustainable. But then his thumb traced a gentle circle on your hip, and his eyes met yours with such raw vulnerability that the words died on your tongue.

"We'll figure it out," you said instead. "Together."

He smiled—small, tired, but genuine. And for the first time all night, his hands stopped trembling.

But somewhere in the reflection of the mirror behind you, barely visible in the dim fluorescent light, a figure stood watching. A version of Jake that looked slightly wrong, smile too wide, eyes too dark.

And he was mouthing something that looked suspiciously like she's mine now

[angelvvii]

JAKE AUDIO

jake whimpering and begging you to let him finally fuck you

|mdni (or do)| wear headphones!!

[angelvvii]

↳ an enhypen fanfiction.

🗂️ ─── sypnosis.

in which: you’re an idol,sunghoon is your bad habit, and jake is the consequence neither of you talk about out loud

⚠️ tw: doomed romance, second male lead syndrome, toxic yearning, he's actually sick in the head btw. toxic devotion, yearning, slowburn, possessive behavior, codependency, "i'd rather have you wrong than not at all", pathetic men lovers club, girl what is WRONG with him??? attachment issues, obsession, smut, unstable relationships, emotional dependency, smut, identity issues, impulsive behaviour, explicit sexual content, toxic / codependent relationships, mental health struggles, emotional trauma & complicated family relationships, suicidal ideation / suicide attempt, self harm themes, anxiety & panic episodes, sleep-related disturbances (sleep paralysis etc.) substance use / drug use, violence, SMUTTTT criminal activity (theft, corruption, etc.) unhealthy coping mechanisms, explicit language, did i mention smut??? SMUTTTT.

lmk if i missed anything.

THE TYPE OF DEVOTION THAT BLEEDS….

↳ jake’s the type to make you ride him until you’re completely spent, grinding your clit against his hip bone until you’re crying from how intense it feels.

↳ jake’s the type to pull out at the very last second just to paint your face, chest, and throat in his cum, forcing you to swallow every last drop of his mess.

↳ jake’s the type to bury his face between your thighs for hours, drinking you in until you’re shaking and begging him to finally put his cock inside you.

↳ jake is the type to ruin himself while helping you out with his best friend.

↳ jake’s the type to kiss you like he’s trying to erase every trace of his best friend from your memory.

↳ jake’s the type to slide inside you so slowly it feels like a confession, burying his face in your neck just to hide the fact that he’s crying.

↳ jake’s the type to bleed devotion so naturally that you mistake it for loyalty.

↳ jake’s the type to choke down the taste of his own jealousy while taking care of you, completely undone by the mere sight of you.

── ✧ ──

↳ jake’s the type to become dangerously possessive over someone he knows was never his to begin with.

↳ jake’s the type to hate the way his best friend touches you while smiling through it anyway.

↳ jake’s the type to lift your legs up over his shoulders and hammer himself so deep into you that your vision goes blurry, making sure his name is the only thing you can scream.

↳ jake’s the type to finally get his hands on you behind closed doors and fuck you with a desperate, destructive hunger that feels almost cruel—leaving you ruined and breathless.

↳ jake’s the type to love you so obsessively that even your happiness with someone else feels sacred to him.

── ✧ ──

↳ jake’s the type to carry the weight of wanting you in complete silence until it turns ugly inside him.

↳ jake’s the type to look at you like a religion and suffer like a sinner.

↳ jake’s the type to pin you down and fill you up completely to the brim, holding you close as he comes inside you, whispering filthy praise about how you’re his perfect little mess.

↳ jake’s the type to shove his fingers down your throat to quiet your moans, whispering in your ear that you belong to him now, not sunghoon.

↳ jake’s the type to spend years convincing himself that being needed by you is enough, even if being loved never will be.

↳ jake’s the type to make you forget his best friend for one reckless night, just to hate himself for how badly he enjoys finally being chosen.

𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖤𝖲 ── 𓇻

this is your sign to stop scrolling and go read consumed by you on wattpad. chapter one is officially out. i pinky brownie fucking promise on my last braincell there’s more coming soon. if you don’t read it i’m assuming you hate me personally <3

[angelvvii]

being loved by jake would genuinely ruin you.

read "consumed by you" on wattpad rn before i throw blonde jake at you-wait nvm that's literally not even a threat. anyway i'll just put itching powder in your underwear instead.

[sepulterios]

Uhm can u do jake submissive, perhaps?

Bf puppy (jake) 𖹭

Use headphones | MINORS DNI!!!

[angelvvii]

i‘m gooning to this shit

[jaeyun-ie]

[angelvvii]

shii lemme ride that dih😂😂

[angelvvii]

good girl, sweet dreams

⋆｡°✩ ───── ☾ ───── ✩°｡⋆

synopsis:

after a brutal, endless day jake comes home completely feral — cock aching, leaking, and desperate for your body. armed with your explicit permission to take you anytime, even while you’re sound asleep, he loses every ounce of control. what begins as hungry, reverent touches spirals into frantic, sloppy, animalistic fucking as he buries himself deep inside your sleeping cunt, pounding you senseless and pumping you full until you wake up dripping and moaning beneath him.

trigger warnings: extremely explicit smut / highly graphic sex somnophilia, cnc, dubcon elements, creampie / breeding kink, overstimulation, rough possessive sex, pierced nipple play, dirty talk, praising, desperate, male whimpering, drooling male, waking up to being fucked, multiple orgasms / cum play, p in v, unprotected sex (dont ever do this, and if you do, PULL THE FUCK OUT BEFORE HE CUMS)

18+ only / mdni. or ignore the warning, whatever. if you're a minor and you read this anyway, that's a personal problem between you and the devil.

────────── ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:──────────

The bed dips behind you.

You don’t stir. Not really. Just a soft, unconscious murmur into the pillow as the mattress sinks under Jake’s weight. The sheets smell like vanilla, lavender, and warm skin—your skin. Your right nipple, the one with the pretty silver bar, drags against the cotton as you shift, sending a sleepy little spark through your body that never quite reaches your mind.

Jake is barely holding it together.

His cock is throbbing so hard it hurts, straining obscenely against his dress pants, the tip already leaking steadily and soaking through the fabric. He’s been like this for hours—thick, heavy, and aching. He palms himself roughly as he stares down at you, breath ragged and shaky.

“Fuck… look at you,” he whispers, voice wrecked. “So fucking pretty when you sleep. All mine to use. My good girl. My perfect fucking girl. Need you. Need to be inside you. fuck—please—pkease"

He's so fucking desperate he could cry.

He strips fast, almost violently. Tie ripped off, shirt buttons flying across the floorboards, pants shoved down his thighs until his fat cock springs free. It slaps wetly against his stomach, angry red, veins bulging, the slit gaping and drooling thick, clear strings of precum that stretch down toward your body. He kicks everything else away and crawls over you like a man possessed.

His trembling fingers hook under the hem of your tank top and slowly drag it up and off. The cool air hits your bare breasts, making your pierced nipple tighten instantly. He groans at the sight, mouth watering.

“Perfect,” he breathes, eyes glazed. “Tits are perfect. You're perfect. Fuck. Fuck.”

Next come the panties.

He peels them down your thighs with shaky hands, dragging the fabric along your skin. Once they’re tossed aside, he spreads your legs wide, exposing your soft, bare pussy to the weak amber lamplight. His breath catches.

“Look at this pretty cunt… already waiting for me.”

His leaking cock drags a sticky trail across your hip as he settles on top of you, forearms bracketing your head. He groans low in his throat at the first press of bare skin on skin.

“You smell so fucking good… warm little cunt already waiting for me, huh? Always smell so fucking good for me.”

He grinds against your thigh, smearing precum everywhere like he’s marking you. His mouth finds your neck, then your tits. His mouth latches onto your pierced nipple like a man starved—hot, wet, and sloppy. He sucks hard, tongue flicking and swirling around the silver bar, teeth gently tugging it. Wet, obscene sucking sounds fill the room while strings of his spit drip down your breast.

“Mine,” he whispers roughly against your wet skin, the metal clicking against his teeth. “All mine. Even like this. Especially like this.”

His hand slides down your body, fingers parting your soft folds. You’re only slightly damp at first. He rubs tight, firm, slick circles over your clit, then pushes two thick fingers inside you. The tight, velvety heat makes him whimper, a desperate sob catching in his throat.

“So fucking tight… even asleep this little pussy is squeezing me,” he groans against your breast. “So tight. Tightest pussy. Best pussy. My pussy. That's it... that's my good girl. Getting wet for me even in your sleep. So perfect. So fucking perfect.”

He adds a third finger, pumping faster, curling them deep until slick sounds start filling the room and your unconscious body begins to leak around his hand. Your breathing changes—shallower, a tiny whimper slipping out—but you stay asleep.

You’re getting wetter. Warmer. Softer.

Fuck.

Jake can’t wait any longer.

He pulls his fingers out, grips his throbbing cock, and rubs the fat, precum-smeared head up and down your slick folds. The sensation of your hot, wet pussy lips kissing his tip makes his eyes roll back.

He pushes in.

The first thick inch stretches you open with a burning, delicious pressure. Jake’s mouth falls open, a broken, high-pitched whimper escaping as your tight walls grip him like a vice. “Oh my fucking god— so hot… so fucking tight—”

He sinks deeper, inch by throbbing inch, feeling every ridge and flutter of your cunt around him, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise.

“Taking me so well,” he gasps, full-body tremors shaking his frame. “Taking me—it's like you were made for this. Made for my cock. Made to be filled up.”

When he bottoms out, balls pressed tight against your ass, his whole body shudders violently. Thick drool spills from his slack mouth onto your chest as he pants like a dog in heat, staying completely still for a moment to adjust to the suffocating heat.

Then he starts fucking you.

Slow, deep drags at first—pulling out until just the swollen head remains inside, then slamming back in with wet, filthy sounds. Your tits bounce with every thrust, the silver bar catching the lamplight.

“Feel so good,” he babbles, eyes wild. “Best I've ever had. Best anyone's ever had. Don't know how I survived before you. Don't want to remember.”

His pace quickly turns frantic. His hips snap harder, faster, pounding into you with desperate, animalistic thrusts. The headboard starts slamming against the wall. His heavy balls smack wetly against your ass with every brutal stroke. He’s panting, whimpering, drooling against your tits while he sucks and bites at your pierced nipple.

“Fuck— Taking me so well, baby. Even asleep you’re creaming on my dick like a good little slut,” he babbles, voice wrecked and sloppy. “This greedy little cunt is creaming all over me… getting so fucking wet for me— Can you feel yourself getting wetter for me?”

You start to stir beneath him, eyelids fluttering.

“J-Jake…?”

Your sleepy moan only makes him thrust harder—short, frantic, punishing strokes that drive him impossibly deep.

“Shh, baby— I’ve got you,” he whimpers, his rhythm stuttering and erratic. “Needed this pussy so fucking bad… been fucking leaking for you all day. Just—just let me. Please. Let me use you. Need you so bad. Need to come inside you.”

Your eyes flutter open, still hazy, and the moment you realize he’s buried balls-deep inside you, a low moan slips from your lips. Your hands fly to his hair, tugging hard.

Jake’s eyes roll back.

“Yes,” he hisses, bucking wildly against you. “Yes, pull it. Pull it harder. Make me yours. Please.”

That's all it takes.

“Fuck— I’m cumming— I’m cumming so fucking hard—”

His cock swells violently inside you. The first powerful spurt explodes deep against your cervix—a thick, scalding rope of cum that floods your walls. He lets out a broken sob as the second, even heavier rope shoots out, then the third, fourth, fifth—each pulse stronger and longer than the last. His cock twitches and jerks violently with every spurt, filling you until you’re stuffed and sloppy.

“Oh my god— baby— feel that? I’m pumping you so full,” he sobs against your neck, voice cracking pathetically. “There’s so much cum— it won’t stop— fuck— another one— I’m still cumming inside you—! Wanted you to wake up full. Wake up mine.”

Every throb sends fresh waves of thick, hot seed splashing against your walls. Long, heavy ropes of cum flood your pussy until you’re impossibly full, the warm wetness starting to leak out around his thick shaft with every shallow thrust. He keeps moving through it, fucking his own load deeper into you, whimpering like he’s losing his mind.

“Mine. Mine. Mine. Gonna fill you until it’s dripping down your thighs for days.”

Even when the pulses finally weaken, he doesn’t stop moving. His cock is still twitching, overly sensitive and messy, but he keeps thrusting through the slick, cum-filled heat with wet, obscene squelching sounds.

“Can't stop,” he whimpers against your throat. “Won't stop. Need to feel you come. Need to feel you squeeze my cock. Please—I need—I need—”

You whimper, clenching around him. “Jake… fuck, I can feel all of it.”

He lifts his head, eyes wild and glassy, and kisses you messily.

“ ‘M Not done,” he whines against your mouth. “Not even close. Need you to cum on my cock while you’re full of my load.”

His hand snakes between you, fingers finding your swollen clit, rubbing fast and filthy while he starts fucking you again—the wet, squelching thrusts pushing his cum even deeper.

You’re wide awake now, moaning loudly, legs locked tight around his waist as he uses your cum-filled pussy exactly how he needs.

[jaylaxies]

STEALER (no mercy)

PAIRING: stalker!jake x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, angst, slight fluff, porn with plot, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it), oral (fem rec.), dry humping, orgasm denial, masturbation, overstimulation, prey-predator dynamics, praises and degradation, spit kink, dacryphilia, usage of nicknames, mentions of stalking, dark content, manipulation, obsession, emotional (?) cheating, mentions of blood, unsettling topics, read at your own risk! lmk if i missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 29.1k words!

SYNOPSIS: Jake sim never cared about the game itself, only how long he could play before you realized he was the only piece that ever mattered. Every move you make teaches him something, every single lesson brings the board closer to a position you cannot escape—the one he’d been circling from the start, the one he’d built every single move around, just to say checkmate.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni.

A/N: hihi loves <3 back with another long fic gawd, it is a topic that i have not explored before so i hope you guys enjoy it <3 all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33

CHAPTER. 𝐈

Jake is the kind of man the room adjusts itself around, and he’s well aware of that. That’s the kind of aura you’d bring in as a rich upperclassman who’s got a personality charming enough for the crowd to stand and stare in hopes of deciphering him. He didn’t mind that, as if anyone could see beyond his fuckboy yet scholar persona that he wore so well. 

He’d learned to read rooms earlier on in his life, not because he was a people pleaser, seeking validation, but the kind of man who loved the comfort others predictability provided him with. People liked what they thought they understood, and Jake had become very good at letting them think they did. 

It was orientation day for the new cohort in his major—something that was mostly a formality for him by now, standing up in the front with the module leader, watching the first years filter into the room with the same blend of anticipation and nervousness, which only lasted a week or two. 

You weren’t any different from the lot, excited to explore the new stage of your life, though you seemed to hide it well with a calm demeanour, minus the faint smile on your face. Arriving early was a good start for you, especially when you met two girls who were more than happy to accommodate you into their friendship which had formed not more than ten minutes ago, already feeling promising. 

They’d been eager to introduce themselves, dropping their names—Karina and Giselle, as you found a seat together, chatting as everyone settled down, learning the basics about each other. You listened more than you spoke, relaxed now that you didn’t feel alone in a new place. Your presence was subtle, blending in with others, or so you thought. 

Karina’s eyes roamed around the room, “my friend also studies here, she’s in the second year, y’know?” She spoke up all excited, making you both lean in as her eyes settled on someone, “fuck. She did tell me about this guy called Jake being fine, but damn, he looks so good in real life.” 

You followed the direction of her stare, simply out of curiosity, finding the module leader fixing her mic, and a figure standing right next to her, garnering attention effortlessly. 

He definitely seemed good looking, standing tall and looking around the room, but you didn’t see beyond that, letting out a small, “oh, he does look confident.”

“That’s one word for it, I’ve also heard he’s got a bit of a reputation of fucking around. How that rumor got spread on a university level is beyond me,” Karina shrugged. 

“I’d tap that,” said Giselle, obviously interested in the man. 

It made you all laugh faintly at her, the topic switched fast after that, something about roommates and campus tour, not knowing that Jake had his eyes on you, not too intense for the others to notice, but still there, easily lip reading how you’d reduced him to one word—confident. 

Right then, the module leader tapped the microphone, “alright everyone, if we could settle down.”

Everyone was quick to obey, the room shushing down into faint whispers, and then absolute silence except for the leader’s voice, who introduced you to the basics of University and the course. You were quick to note down everything that felt important to you. 

“This is Jake Sim,” the module leader spoke again, gesturing to him, “he’s one of our second years, the class representative, and he’s kindly agreed to help out with orientation this week. If you have questions about the course or the department, he’s your person.”

A ripple of chatter went through the room as you looked up at him again, just like everyone else did, only to find his eyes on you for a split second, before he gave everyone a smile, nodding in acknowledgement. 

“Welcome! I’m Jake,” he spoke up smoothly, slight Australian accent evident in his voice, “I promise it’s not as hard as it seems right now, our professors just like to scare new students.”

That earned a few laughs from the students around you, even one from the professor. Karina snorted, “look at him lying, it’s uni, it’s supposed to be scary.”

“Well, you can’t just go ahead and say that in front of everyone, can you?” Giselle rolled her eyes, and you nodded with a look, which successfully pissed Karina off, before all of you chuckled slowly. You were genuinely happy to have found those two so early in your day, being friendless at a new place honestly sounded like a nightmare to you. 

Jake went on explaining the basics and what to take care of as a student. You listened carefully, simply because his voice seemed perfect for someone who’d do public speaking, eyes wandering around the room to make sure everyone listens to him. 

Meanwhile Karina has started talking about this new amazing lipgloss she’d gotten and you both hummed in agreement when she showed it to you.

“A lot of you might feel left behind at some point,” Jake’s voice boomed, “but that doesn’t mean you are, you just need to pay more attention.” His eyes were now on you again, but you couldn’t make it out from the distance, especially with the glasses he wore. 

“Is he trying to tell us to pay attention?” You asked, amused now and the girls agreed furiously. 

“Oh he definitely saw us talking,” Giselle mumbled. 

The speech went on for a while, before the professor kindly asked the second year students to go around and take up doubts, because the first years looked way more scared now that the modules and assignments were laid out in front of you. 

You three didn’t have any questions per se, but Giselle still wanted to talk to whom she now called ‘a fine piece of ass,’ raising her hand with such excitement, it knocked Karina towards you, your pen falling down in the process, which you didn’t register. 

One second year was moving towards your group, but Jake’s eyes were quicker, and so were his legs. Within seconds, he stood right where you sat, “having doubts, hm?” He asked with a little smile. 

“I just wanted to ask what professor should we steer clear of,” Giselle shrugged and you all chuckled. 

“Trust me, all professors are good, just make sure to be good in front of Mr. Park,” he whispered the last part, his voice sweet enough for the girls around you to swoon. 

With a nod, you ended that interaction, but Jake didn’t want that. He bent down without saying anything as your phone buzzed, your attention diverting, which was quickly brought back to him as he extended his arm, holding your pen out. 

“Oh,” you said, surprised, giving him a faint smile at the kind gesture, “thank you.”

Your fingers brushed his, and for a second, you thought that he wasn’t letting go, feeling the warmth of you with the little touch, before he finally let you have it, the same gentle expression on his face. 

“Welcome to Decelis University,” he mumbled, still looking at all three of you, but his focus was definitely on only one of you, which you had failed to register yet again, “hope to see you guys at the freshers mixer tonight,” he smiled, tapping the desk twice before he walked to the others who had doubts. 

“Damn,” Giselle said, completely smitten as Karina giggled, meanwhile you checked your phone. 

boyfie: all okay there, love?  you: all good so far, can’t wait to tell you about it :3 boyfie: perfect, see you at home ❤️

“Let’s go, explore the university now!” Karina suggested, or more like—she insisted. 

You both nodded, linking arms as soon as you were allowed to leave, walking out as if you’d known each other since childhood. 

Not knowing that Jake stood there, eyes following you out till your figure disappeared behind the door. 

CHAPTER. 𝐈𝐈

For someone who liked to live a simple life, you’d probably overexerted yourself a lot today, considering you were sitting in Karina’s Mercedes Benz as she drove exceeding the speed limit for that road. 

“You’re going to get us killed!” Your fingers tightened around the seatbelt as the wind caressed your face in high hopes of calming you down.

Meanwhile, Giselle didn’t hold back with her scream, a low chuckle leaving Karina’s lips, “don’t worry, girls. I know this route like the back of my hand.” 

She was right about that one, the car surged confidently in precision, unfamiliar streetlights slipped over your face in intervals, illuminating fragments of your reflection in the half open window—tired eyes, and a faint smile that hadn’t fully left you yet. You checked your phone without thinking, the familiar name on your screen calming you more than anything could ever do. 

“See?” Karina said, slowing just enough as neon signs began to crowd the pavement, “we’ve reached, all alive.”

Giselle clapped dramatically, “barely did. But yeah, we’re alive.”

Inside the club, it was exactly what you’d expected—dim yet impactful strobing lights, bodies pressed together in the corners making you realize just how quick people were to make connections, and of course, the loud music booming around. Karina slipped into it effortlessly, already weaving through someone in the crowd, the guy she’d met earlier during the uni tour, while Giselle followed just behind her, laughing and moving to the beat without a second thought. You stayed close at first, letting yourself be pulled along, letting the rhythm guide you for a fair few songs, enjoying it in small bursts even as you felt it beginning to wear on you.

It was too new. The new city, new crowd, new faces—something you weren’t used to, having done all of this with either your childhood friends, or that one person you trusted the most. It didn’t take long before the room started to feel smaller with unfamiliar hands brushing past you more often than you liked. When it became a tad too much, you excused yourself easily enough, telling them you were going to grab a drink before either of them could protest.

A certain man looked your way as you leaned against the counter, waiting, fingers resting lightly against the cool surface while condensation gathered on the glass in front of you. You hadn’t even taken a sip when someone stepped into your space, close enough that your shoulders tensed instinctively before you turned to face him.

It was evident that he was drunk, and you were still polite as you declined his filthy invitation, but he was beyond comprehension now, leaning in as you prepared yourself to push him. 

Jake was quick to appear with a smile on his face, patting the guy on his back twice, as if meeting a friend, “mate,” he muttered, voice calm, “think you good?” 

The guy just nodded, each movement sloppy as you stared at Jake, your heartbeat rising at the situation and doubt of what it could’ve been without his intervention. Jake only smiled, guiding him away to what seemed to be his friends, “take care of this one,” he muttered bitterly once you were out of the hearing range. 

You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath just as Jake appeared again with an apologetic smile on his face, “sorry about that one.”

“Thank you,” you replied, passing him a small smile of your own, “for helping. It would have been a nasty scene if I had slapped him.” 

Jake let out a quiet breath of laughter at that, the corner of his mouth lifting like he could picture it all too clearly, impressively so, “yeah, probably best for everyone that it didn’t come to that.”

His gaze flicked back to the glass in front of you as you took a sip which you didn’t really enjoy. Without saying anything, he reached for it, arm extended and his veins evident through his black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, fingers wrapped over yours for barely a second, tipping your drink slightly and adding a splash of coke to it. 

“Here,” he said, handling it back to you. 

“Oh, thank you.” You took a sip, enjoying the flavour a lot better now, “that’s actually good.”

Jake observed it—the tension of your shoulders easing into the same comfort you had with the friends you made earlier. A little gesture adding more to his character, making him rather trustworthy in the sea of drunken strangers. He leaned against the counter in silence, “I’m glad.” 

“I better get going,” you said, pointing at Karina who waved your way as Jake followed your eyes, nodding with yet another smile he so easily wore. 

“Have fun, will see you around,” he said, pushing off the counter as you both parted ways. 

He found an empty stool, sitting right where he could keep a check on all students, just as the other second year students were doing. It had been a few minutes, but he could see you typing something on your phone, eyes filled with exhaustion. Yet you were cheerful when you hugged your friends goodbye as they teased you about something Jake couldn’t quite decipher from the distance. 

Then you were quick to walk outside, waiting by the door. Jake had followed you without any ill intentions, just stopping right before he witnessed your eyes shining as you made your way into the car that stopped right in front of the club. You were quick to enter the car with a wide smile on your face as Jake watched with his eyebrow raised, even more so when you leaned in to kiss the man who sat in the driver’s seat. 

He clicked his tongue at the minute PDA, his smile deepening into a smirk when the car pulled away and the lights bled into the darkness, attention fixated on where you’d been moments ago. He turned back inside after a moment, already replaying the details, already adjusting his understanding, aware that some things didn’t fit neatly into place and never really were meant to.

And Jake had never been very good at leaving anomalies unexplored.

CHAPTER. 𝐈𝐈𝐈

“Fuck,” Jake groans, his plush lips bitten with the need to chase the high he couldn’t achieve, thrusting into the girl he couldn’t even bother remembering the name of, and the only response he got was an incoherent wail of pleas, the whole room could feel the reverberating noise of skin slapping. 

The girl was more than overstimulated, almost crossing the line between heaven and hell with how satisfied she was, but Jake? He could only close his eyes, gathering a little of what he’d seen of you the past few days. Granted, it wasn’t much, yet it was definitely enough to keep him riled up and going, the pace only increasing as he finally hit that one spot, yet another deep groan leaving his throat as he filled up inside the condom he wore. 

Nothing else could be heard for the next few seconds, simply the deep sound of breathing. The silence being enough for Jake to shake his head with his jaw tight as he got up, grabbing fresh clothes from his closet, “I’ll call a cab for you.”

“Wait—you won’t let me stay? You said you liked me,” the girl asked, barely being able to get up.

“You know what you signed up for, hm?” Jake only smiled, leaving the girl alone to freshen up in the bathroom. By the time he came out, the girl was gone, just as he intended. 

Making his way downstairs, he found the two of his friends playing Valorant, acknowledging his presence the second he walked in, “were you trying to kill her? The fuck are you so frustrated for, huh?” Jay asked. 

Sunghoon chuckled, “he couldn’t fuck the girl he’s been staring at from the past few days,” he explained with a smirk. 

Jake found humour in this too, dragging his veiny hand through his hair, still feeling the aftershocks of what was meant to be a satisfactory act for him, “you paying attention now?” 

“Just fuck her if you want to man,” Jay urges. 

“She’s got a boyfriend,” Jake mutters, grabbing a can from the fridge. 

“That never stopped Sunghoon, y’know?” The boys chuckled at that. 

Sunghoon glanced at him sideways, controller resting idle in his hands, “you’ve actually been weird lately,” he said, “almost like sex doesn’t satisfy you anymore.”

Jake took a slow sip of his red bull, eyes fixed on the muted glow of the television screen, the game paused mid-fight, “maybe I’m bored,” he replied, voice almost amused, “same faces, same convos. Gets old, y’know?”

Jay snorted, “you? Bored?” He shook his head, “now that’s new.”

Jake shrugged, setting the can down before standing again, “I’ve got stuff to do, will be back.”

Upstairs, his study room felt too quiet, Jake sat on the edge of his bed and opened his laptop, the screen lighting up with pages he hadn’t bothered closing earlier—Uni portals, timetables, other social feeds he kept as background noise but never really were. He clicked through them absent-mindedly at first, then with more precision, eyes narrowing as he found what he was looking for.

You had never told Jake your name, you didn’t really have to. He was efficient enough to find out the basics himself. All it took was a few minutes of cross checking the orientation lists, narrowing it down by majors and the list of students with their ID photo popped up, it was rather easy for Jake. He leaned back, whispering your name, hand resting on his lips when he further started to learn more, curiosity getting the best of him. 

And so, it wasn’t much when he found your socials, not having a lot of info on them, yet enough for your stories to tell him exactly what your new favourite drink was from the Library cafe, the last few books you’d read, even an insight on your letterboxed filled with myriad of movie reviews, some of which he even took the time to watch. 

Jake leaned back slightly, elbows resting on his knees as the laptop buzzed quietly. His eyes flicked to another tab—one he’d opened days ago and never bothered closing. The mentorship program. It was mandatory for all first years, even Jake was involved last year. Though it’s randomly assigned, Jake took the liberty to make the list himself, the other class representatives gladly handed the task over to him in hopes of not being burdened with further work themselves. 

He smirked to himself, of course he couldn’t let such a pretty girl be bothered about the basics of University when he was right there to guide you, well, amongst other students he took under his wing. People do this when they’re infatuated, don’t they? Your relationship won’t be much of a problem since he only wanted to get close, just a little. 

He repeated your name again, in a softer tone now, with the surety that no one could say it better than he did. He saved all the files, shutting the laptop down and staring at the few pictures he’d managed to print out, specifically the one with your boyfriend, his face crossed out with a blood red marker. He set the photo face-down on the desk as he stood up, smoothing the front of his shirt. 

He flicked the light off and closed the door behind him, already wearing the version of himself everyone expected to see. When he joined his friends again, he dropped back onto the couch easily, leaning forward to grab a controller, his smile relaxed and unremarkable. Jay shot him a glance but didn’t question it, too focused on the game to notice how settled Jake looked now, how satisfied.

And as the screen lit up with movement once more, Jake played along like nothing had changed at all, knowing full well that everything had.

CHAPTER. 𝐈𝐕

You liked your Uni so far, you’d adjusted into your new life now, better than ever. It was quite a dream come true to you, living with your boyfriend, almost like starting a new book with all happy tropes incorporated into one. The one year you were without him was enough for you to apply to a university in his city, where he worked. It all worked out beautifully, well, as much as it could, because not everything went in the way you wanted it to. 

It already had been half a month since the lectures started, and you were scrolling through the new mails, finding a new one popping up right then, labelled as Mentorship Guidance. It was a formality for all students, six of them being assigned to a senior with monthly meetings to ensure everyone’s doing well, a familiar name attached at the bottom of the mail—Jake Sim. 

You were glad it was someone you’d met before, he seemed reliable from what you’d gathered, but your attention was diverted quickly once your boyfriend entered the room, engulfing you in a back hug which you so lovingly accepted. This is the life you’d always wanted, even though your boyfriend did stay busy with work most of the time. 

Jake didn’t think so, he thought you deserved better even when he saw your boyfriend dropping you off for the mentorship meeting three days later. He’d arrived early, he liked to ensure everything went just the way he wanted, absolute perfection of the plan he’d thought of. The small seminar room was quiet when he entered, making sure the seats were relaxing and the atmosphere warm. 

He set the drinks down one by one, six cups in a neat line, lids pressed on firmly, sleeves placed carefully so no one burnt their fingers. It would look like thoughtfulness to them, a harmless senior trying to make first years feel welcome, and that was the whole point. He’d made sure there were options, of course, because he wasn’t careless, but there was only one cup he’d checked twice before leaving the café—yours. 

He’d ordered it the way you liked it, right down to the small preference you hadn’t even written out properly, the detail tucked into a story caption that disappeared within twenty-four hours. Jake remembered it anyway, the same way he remembered the shape of your smile the night you’d climbed into that car.

He sat down only after everything was placed exactly as he wanted it, choosing the seat that gave him the best view of the door right before the students started to arrive in the room. Jake had taken a note of everyone’s names and basics, just to seem like a good mentor. A guy came in first, followed by the other students as he greeted them all with their names. 

Then you walked in and Jake’s focus shifted entirely, as if everything else in the periphery became noise to him. You looked more confident now, as if you’d been settling in well, wearing that necklace you always fidgeted with. 

“Hey, good to see you,” Jake smiled smoothly, making you smile and nod with politeness. 

He introduced everyone naturally, feeling this surge of emotion when he reached you, your name rolling off his tongue naturally, exactly how he had practiced all this while, “Before I start, I got a little something for you guys,” he says, reaching for the drinks and passing them around, “I got a few random ones, I hope you guys like it.”

You were surprised when you took a sip—it was the drink you had liked, and to your pure luck, you’d gotten the same one here, a small smile making it all worth it for Jake, who was a keen observer of everything. He’d wondered how you’d look so up close again, in bright daylight with nothing to hide, each crease of your smile was visible, and he took a note of it all, as if it was a meeting for him. 

The meeting went by smoothly with how easygoing the group was, the conversation shifting into something more casual now, Jake let it happen, watching the shift with quiet satisfaction, easing back in his chair like he had intended this to happen.

“So,” he said lightly, resting his forearms against the table, fingers loosely interlaced, “how’s everyone surviving so far? Be honest, yeah? This is a safe space.”

Someone laughed, “barely surviving,” a girl near the window said. “I swear the reading list is longer than my fucking will to live.”

That earned a ripple of chuckles, even from you, and Jake caught it—the way your lips curved before you looked down again, fingertips grazing the side of your cup. He smiled alongside. 

“It evens out,” he said easily, “give it a few more weeks.”

“You moved here for uni?” Someone asked you, and you nodded.

“Well—yeah. It’s easier for me since my boyfriend already works here,” you nodded and the girl squealed. 

“Are you living together?”

“Yeah, his apartment is also close to the uni, which actually helps,” you smiled fondly, not knowing how Jake focused on this extra piece of information you’d just dropped so casually, staring your way as you sat right next to him. The conversation then shifted to something else, and you were glad once the meeting was over. 

Your bag slipped just as you were getting up, a few pens and notebook falling down in the process. Jake was quick to pick everything up, along with you, setting most of it in your bag as you thanked him. It was clear he was a kind man, always there to help anyone under any circumstances, failing to register the small device he put in the corner, which looked exactly like the pen you’d dropped on your orientation day. 

“You’re so kind,” you smiled, taking the bag back before leaving along with other students, completely missing the look of pure pleasure on Jake’s face as he slid your lipgloss in his pocket without any guilt, your faint clean scent only making him go dizzy. 

He unlocked his phone, opening the app he’d installed which broadened into a map with a single red dot, which was now moving outside of the room where Jake stood. He grimaced at the thought of you going back home to a man, a man who clearly didn’t belong with you. It was no bother waiting there in the room, in fact, he took his sweet time to do some background research on the people around you, sitting in the seat where you sat earlier. 

The warmth gives him room to think, he doesn’t rush these things; rushing makes people careless, and Jake prides himself on never being careless. Instead, he lets himself sit with the irritation, with the image of you unlocking a door that isn’t yours alone, laughing at something a man says because he thinks he’s earned that right being by your side for what? A few years.

Not yet, Jake tells himself, calm as ever. He scrolls through what he already has—the basics. Names connected loosely enough to pass as coincidence, random public traces and patterns, everyone has a digital footprint, and god he’s more than delighted to find yours. Who you follow, who follows you back, which names repeat often enough to take into account. He pays attention to timelines more than content, noting who appears consistently and who drops out of the picture without explanation. Families leave different marks than friends do, and so do lovers who think they’re permanent.

Jake quickly switches the tabs on his laptop when a student enters the room again, claiming the headphones he’d forgotten, and Jake puts on his best smile as he returns it to him, bidding a goodbye before that smile drops. He pushes his glasses up witj one finger, checking the application which clearly showed your dot slowing down, stopping entirely by the next two minutes. 

His eyes trace the map, memorizing the location which was indeed only fifteen minutes away from the campus, five minutes from his penthouse. Close, just like you said. Ever so convenient for him, even you knew not to stray away so far from the person who was handmade for you. 

His eyes darkened when he pulled out the socials of your boyfriend, scoffing when he didn’t find a single picture of you there, absolutely no trace of having a girlfriend, as if you were not a goddess given to him in a human form. Jake would show you off enough to know you’re taken, he’d hide you enough for only him to know what you are from inside out. 

Did he even know how to make you feel good? Or that you have a twitter account to talk about your fantasies and the filthy eroticas you read? Could he make you moan? Make you feel satisfied? The thought enough had him chuckling with anger, a vein popping on his forehead. But it was okay, it wouldn’t last for long when you understand that you belong with him—to him. 

Completing his final assignment for the month, Jake rubbed his bottom lip, now he was free, having all the time in this world to devote to you, to your smile that allowed a faint dimple to grace your face on your right cheek, to your perfectly crafted body, to every single essence of your being and existence. 

He saw your dot moving just as he got up, checking the time—perfect for grocery shopping at the nearest Tesco, then he looked out the window to find the sky clear of any clouds, quickly diverting his gaze to his phone, the weather app open, indicating eighty one percent of precipitation in the next seven minutes, a smirk gracing his face. For the first time ever, he was thankful for this city to have unpredictable weather, something you were surely not accustomed with. 

If he gets his timing right, he could garner another interaction. He clicked his tongue with a smirk, zipping up his bag, and slinging it over his shoulder, walking out, leaving his car in the parking lot without much care as he walked, getting his timing right just for the first raindrop to fall on his lip, which curled as he saw you with your hands full—two bags of groceries, just as he thought. 

It was the right time to pull out his umbrella, taking in the second to watch your expression curl into one of absolute disbelief at the now dark sky with no way to cover yourself. Oh how beautiful you looked like that, struggling alone as if Jake wouldn’t build a whole shop right next to your apartment if you’d just ask. 

It was then that he stepped into your peripheral vision, holding the umbrella in a way that you’d see his face, your eyes widening in recognition, whispering his name before you could stop yourself. It was perfect, the way Jake looked surprised as he stopped, eyeing your state as raindrops cascaded down your face like he didn’t stare at you before. 

“Y/N,” he smiled, holding the umbrella over you without saying much, “fancy seeing you here.”

Your eyes told him exactly how happy you were for the cover, “yeah! Do you live around here?” You asked with that little smile of yours which was more polite than genuine. 

Jake hummed, “my apartment is ten mins away from here. I see with the groceries, you must live around too.”

He knew exactly where you lived, he just wanted to hear it from you, and he felt that buzz inside him when you nodded, and explained how it’s five minutes away for you. 

“Let me help then,” he whispered, brushing his fingers against yours as he took a hold of the bag that seemed heavier, without giving you a chance to complain, but you still did. 

“Oh, you don’t have to!” You were shaken almost at the sudden act, not scared, but rather at the easy show of his helping nature, the control he held over every situation, just how he was always there to help. You didn’t question it, you ran into your classmates all the time around this area. 

“I can’t let you carry it all alone now, can I?” He showed you the boyish grin of his, making you smile, this one seemed rather genuine, sending sparks right down Jake’s pants, “guide me, okay?”

You nodded, “thanks, Jake. You’re genuinely so sweet,” you muttered, and you did mean it, not knowing what that did to Jake, but he knew it was the perfect time to instigate. 

“It’s my pleasure. Why are you doing groceries alone though?” He asked, just how normal people do, trying to make small talk. 

“Oh—uh, my boyfriend works till eight, so I just take care of the rest of the things,” you smiled as if it was normal, highly aware that you were giving out your details to him. 

Wrong. Jake wouldn’t let you do that, fuck, he won’t let you work at all, you deserved to be treated like a princess so all you could focus on was him and studies, nothing else should matter. 

“That’s fair,” he forced himself to say, “I’m glad you have someone with you here.”

“Me too!” You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes, as if something had happened, something you wouldn’t tell an acquaintance, but he still took his chances, slowing a little when he saw your house coming into view by the next turn, the perfect spot with absolutely no CCTVs. 

“You sure you’re good?” 

You paused for a second, thinking about how to frame your words, especially since you didn’t wish to make your boyfriend sound bad, especially because you were telling it to someone who was still a stranger, “yeah, I just wish we could have more time to spend together now that I’m here.”

“He sounds like a good man, working hard for you,” Jake replied, voice soft under the patter of rain, “I hope you get whatever you want,” he let out, absolutely not meaning it. 

You saw him in a different light when he didn’t judge your situation, because your friends did when you told them the same. Jake was quick to catch that glint in your eyes, handling you the bag back when you stopped.

“I’ll walk from here, thank you for helping me, Jake,” you spoke softer now, not wanting him to know your house number.

“You say that a lot.”

“You help me a lot.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Jake said in a beat, earnest with his words, that had to staring a second too longer at him, not knowing how Jake was crumbling inside with the look of pure innocence that you gave him. 

That interaction stayed in his mind as he bid you goodbye with a smile, walking ahead first to make sure you know he’s not trying to hit on you. No. It was too early for that, he just had to learn more, he had to build that trust more, morph himself into the very image of a perfect man crafted just for you. 

Your heart was heavy as you reached home, half soaked from when Jake wasn’t there to shield you from the rain. You loved your boyfriend truly, and maybe it was selfish of you to even want more time with him when he was busy with work. Yes, he did give you time on weekends, yes he was never bad to you, and you knew he loved you, but somewhere, you just didn’t want to have that flatline graph with no excitement, wanting a little more from the relationship. 

Outside, Jake stopped right by the corner to observe the lights to make sense of which room was the bedroom, staring for a while to conclude it was the bottom left one—perfect, easy access. Once he was done checking every bit of space around you, he moved, going back to uni for his car, the scent of you lingering in his mind, the way you looked at him when he so effortlessly helped you, and he always would, you just have to wait and see. 

CHAPTER. 𝐕

Shooting a goodbye to Sunghoon, Jake left the last lecture for the day, making his way to the library to make sure his calculations were right, a smirk gracing his face for barely a second as he spotted Giselle sitting with her head in her hands, evidently struggling with the essay on cardiovascular biotechnology—given by none other than Mr. Park, the one Jake had warned them about. 

Jake knew it was impossible to be always right, but he liked to take his chances. He bent down, tapping the table twice which evidently startled the poor girl, but she melted comically fast, watching Jake looking worried about her, “all good?” 

“Y—yeah! Just doing my essay,” Giselle replied in a haste. 

Jake nodded, as if trying to recall where he’s seen her before, “You’re new right? 2026 cohort for biotech?” 

Giselle was visibly happy at the recognition as she nodded with a smile, which eventually led to Jake offering help and her accepting it without thinking twice. Everything was going according to the plan as Jake ended up providing her with every single resource she needed and more, all research papers as she stared in awe, now taking her chance to actually invite him out. 

“I can’t thank you enough, Jake! I would love it if you join me and my friends at the arcade tomorrow—only if you’re free though! You can bring friends too—”

It was that easy, just pretty boy privileges. He thought he’d still have to work hard and maybe be the one to extend the invite, but again, the universe worked well in his favour despite how wrong it was, “I’d love to,” he smiled. 

That’s it, his work was done, perfectly so. Exchanging numbers was the last thing he did before bidding goodbye to her, turning around with his usual smirk, unlocking his phone to see if the package he’d ordered had been delivered or not, just to find it was. His mind was on overdrive this whole time, especially with the thought of seeing you outside of the university setting again.

He wondered if you’d dress up knowing he’s gonna come, would you even know that he’s invited? Will you smile seeing him there? He gripped the steering wheel tighter, knuckles turning white as he drove back to his apartment. He could feel a buzz through his veins at this newfound feeling, the thrill he never got with just fucking around, somehow this felt even better than the orgasm those mindless one night stands provided him with. 

So this is what it is like to fall for someone? It’s inevitable. Wanting felt too easy, almost crude and Jake didn’t want you—he needed you just like he knew you belonged to him. The lack of control irritated him, especially because this isn’t how he operated, he was too used to getting the things he wanted ever since he was a kid, but you? You were taken away from him the very second he decided to have you. 

He groaned out your name again, chuckling like a madman at how he just wanted to fuck you when he first saw you. Fuck you? He’d treasure you, he’d make every inch of you feel so good you’d never think about anyone else—he’d worship you. Seeing you with a guy who wasn’t him had his blood boiling, yet he welcomed the heat. He bit on his bottom lip with such intensity, it had him tasting blood. 

And now, he had to control things from the sidelines, stepping further to actually get an insight on your life beyond how you’re reading a queer cultish erotica right now. He will know more once he gets you a plushie tomorrow. He reached home with ease, paying extra attention to your lane when he did so—the lights were on and your red dot rested safely at your place. Jake was quick to grab the parcel from his mailbox, meticulously unboxing it with a blade, inspecting the small device that laid inside. 

 Just a cute little gift from him to you. 

CHAPTER. 𝐕𝐈

The change of scene was exactly what you needed after the past few days, working on your assignments tirelessly with absolutely no break whatsoever. It didn’t help how your boyfriend had been just as busy, if you exclude that one day he was generous enough to actually watch a movie with you. You missed him despite how close he was to you, it felt like darkness had surrounded your entire existence. 

Which is why you wore a genuine smile watching the neon lights blending together, paired with the constant beep and chime of the gaming machines. You loved arcades, it reminded you much of your childhood when everything was colourful, unlike now. Karina was quick to take the lead, swiping her card. 

“This is actually rigged,” she shook her head, failing to get the Pokémon plushie for the third time now. 

Giselle looked around, as if waiting for someone when you groaned, meeting the same fate as Karina on the other claw machine, eyes meeting hers now, “why do you look so distracted?” 

“Yeah? Don’t tell me you called another of your crushes without informing us first,” Karina mumbled. 

This had Giselle giggling nervously, “you see—”

“Fucking knew it,” you rolled your eyes, remembering how she did the same a month ago. 

“Hey! It’s Jake, can you blame me? He’s bringing a friend too so stop making that face Rina,” she muttered, watching Karina’s eyes sparkle with interest now. 

“Woah, how did it even happen?” You asked, curious about the boy. 

“He helped me with the essay—saw me in the library basically, so I had basic courtesy to invite him,” she looked proud as she said so. 

“Damn, good luck then,” you nodded, attention back on the claw machine as your mind drifted to when he helped you—always wearing that easygoing smile, it’s no surprise that Giselle likes him. He helped everyone, it’s just how he is. 

Karina lost the game again with a tantrum, a voice interrupting her that very second, but you smelled the scent first before you could register the presence. 

Jake stood right behind you, jacket slung loosely over his shoulder, hair falling neatly on his forehead, rather wavy today. You straightened your back without meaning to. His friend stood beside him, he didn’t seem to be of your course, standing tall with a sharp jawline as everyone introduced each other with smiles on their faces. Karina didn’t seem to have any problem with the new addition, obviously emitted by yet another pretty face. 

“Hey, I’m Jay,” he smiled, extending his hand towards you after doing the same with your friends. 

“Okay, enough with the introductions,” Jake mumbled, cutting through as you only nodded at the man, “so you’re having problem with the plushies? Mind if I try? Lemme get one for all of you, yeah?” 

Your friends were overjoyed at the offer. 

Jake was ready, taking a deep breath as he swiped his card on the machine, faintly trying to inhale your scent where you stood earlier, and he was surprised at himself for being able to hold in so well, especially when you had your hair down, wearing a skirt that did nothing to hide your legs. Oh, it was torture, to have you so close yet so far, but rather happy at how you noticed his outfit without saying a word. 

“Let’s see how you do then,” you challenged while Karina was busy making small talk with Jay, Giselle standing on the other side of Jake. 

And his eyes sparkled when you said so, a smirk on his face as he started to play, as if he’d mastered the skills of doing so, grabbing the exact one Karina had aimed for before—a Snorlax. The claw picked it up with ease as your eyes widened, everyone now paid attention with a collective gasp, the machine humming louder as if aware it was being watched. The plush rose slowly, dangling just long enough to test your patience before dropping cleanly into the chute.

“No way,” Karina breathed, hands flying to her mouth. 

“That’s for you,” he smiled, passing it over to Karina. 

You watched it with a smile of your own—Jake swore it was the prettiest sight ever, and he made it his mission to do more, watching your nose scrunch when he missed another plushie, but the way you clapped with ease when he got one out, giving it to Giselle, who looked as if she was going to faint.

“Your turn,” he said lightly, eyeing you with such a gentle look before nodding at the controls, “which one would you like?”

He could sense the faint hesitation in your eyes, clear that no man had gotten you anything before your boyfriend, and he was here to change that, “uhm—that one maybe? The Eevee.”

“My favourite,” he chuckled, sliding the card again as his veiny hands moved, holding the joystick, and you found yourself staring without even realizing.

The claw descended slowly, metal arms gripping the plush awkwardly at first before tightening, and you held your breath as it lifted, swaying just enough to make your heart skip. Jake didn’t react, simply watching it with the same calm focus as before. It dropped cleanly into the chute.

“Oh,” you breathed, surprised, a soft laugh leaving you before you could stop it, “no way.”

Jake bent down to retrieve it, straightening again as he held it out to you, almost amused, “here you go,” he said, quiet enough that only you could hear it.  

Your fingers brushed his as you took it, the contact was innocent, and you smiled at him without thinking, clutching the plush against yourself like it was something you’d won fair and square. He noticed that too, the way you held it close, the way your shoulders loosened just a little, as if the night had finally eased into something lighter, exactly the way he wanted. 

He loved it, the way you said thank you, the way he saw you smiling freely at him, as if you had let your guard down even more, and he didn’t expect more than that, resorting to just giving you faint glances through the night, not getting too close because he’s well aware of how your presence affects him, one brush against you and he’ll be hard, he’d lose his composure, the persona he’d curated so well for you. So, he paid attention to everyone equally, but still guiding them to the racing machines, which he knew you’d love. 

Digital footprint really helped, and you were the perfect example of it. The way you held the steering with precision, winning the game with ease even though all others tried their best to keep up. It was hot. So hot when you let go and do things you genuinely enjoy, the way you win. He’d let you do it all each day, he just needs you to look at him exactly how he looks at you—with the most insane mix of yearning and obsession, but you felt safe around him, he could feel that much. 

The night slipped forward without anyone noticing when it did, folding itself into a blur of movement and sound as one game bled into another, tickets spilling like paper confetti at your feet, Karina cheering too loudly every time she won by accident, Giselle was now clinging to Jay’s arm as if she’d known him longer than a few hours, and he didn’t mind by any means. 

Jake made sure to stay a step behind you then, letting you exist freely in the moment, letting the night do the work for him, because trust was never built by force but by comfort, by consistency, by being exactly what someone needed without asking for anything in return. When you looked back at him after winning yet again, eyes bright and proud, he smiled without thinking, the action sending a shiver up your spine, and you looked away, wondering what had happened. 

Karina sighed with pure happiness, “okay I’ll just head to the washroom before we leave, come,” she started dragging you and Giselle along. 

“How are you getting back home?” Jay asked, eyes on Giselle. 

“We took a cab here because Karina didn’t wish to drive,” she said, eyes bright. 

“We can drive you back home then, where do you live?” 

You didn’t speak, it was clear how you didn’t trust the man enough to go with him, and to your absolute dismay, the girls lived closer to Jay’s place while you lived close to Jake, they asked you a few times if you were okay with that, which made you look at Jake—he was calm as usual, wearing the same look that would make anyone trust him, and from what you’d gathered, he wasn’t a bad man, besides you had your location on for your boyfriend. 

With a nod, you girls went inside the washroom, handing over the plushies to the guys. 

“You getting laid tonight?” Jake asked Jay, who chuckled, not saying much.

“Let’s keep all this in our cars first,” he said, segregating the amount of stuffed toys they had now, walking out into the parking lot, glad that they parked cars with a distance, “see you tomorrow then?”

Jake nodded, gathering all toys and getting inside, making them sit all neatly in the backseat, exactly how your potted plants sat at your window. Grabbing the Eevee, he decided that this would be the one, the one that’ll get him closer to you. The plush felt absurdly soft in his hands, warm in places where you’d held it earlier, the faint indentation of your fingers still there if he pressed hard enough. 

Jake reached into the centre console and retrieved the device, small enough to disappear between his fingertips, engineered to be overlooked. He powered it on briefly, watching the faint blink confirm it was alive, listening for the near-silent hum that told him everything was functioning exactly as intended. He unzipped the seam along the back of the plush with ease, fingers steady, exactly like he practiced the night before. The stuffing parted without much resistance, polyester clouds yielding quietly as he created space. He didn’t disturb more than necessary, leaving no evidence behind. 

He slipped the camera inside, angling it precisely to make sure it gave live recording from the tiny lens aligned with a natural seam so it looked like nothing more than a shadow in the stitching. He pressed the stuffing back into place carefully, redistributing it until the shape felt untouched. He tested the weight a few times before stitching the seam close just as he saw you coming out of the arcade. 

He tucked the plush back among the others just as the doors slid open and the noise spilled out again, Karina was already laughing at something Jay said, Giselle half-distracted, phone in hand, fingers flying as she typed. “Text me when you’re home,” Karina said, squeezing you tight before Jay ushered her toward his car. Giselle repeated the same, waving as she climbed in the front seat, leaving soon after. 

That left you and Jake standing there, the pavement damp beneath your shoes, neon reflections stretching like oil slicks between parked cars. He opened the passenger door for you without a word, waiting until you were seated before closing it gently, and you noticed how the car smelled clean, the scent of your favourite flower invading your senses, pulling you into a more pleasant spot as he pulled into the driveway. 

This is exactly what Jake wanted—you, all comfortable around him, it didn’t take words to feel that, just the expression. His mind drifting to all the unrealistic possibilities that arose in the silence, even more so when he noticed you staring his way every few seconds, so he took time to play your favourite song, noticing the slight twitch of the corner of your lip. 

“You like this band?” You asked. 

Yes. Initiate conversation, be curious, like him more by each second, let him show that he’s tailor made for you. 

“Yeah, it’s my favourite band,” he chuckled, “I see you like it too.”

“It’s my favourite as well! I’ve never met anyone who listens to them,” you said, more enthusiastic than ever, a clear sign that you were more interested in him now, easily discussing your favourite songs, but Jake wanted to brag a little more, switching the topic. 

“Why? Don’t you discuss this with your boyfriend?” Jake asked in a tone that was simply innocent to you. 

That’s when your smile turned back into the polite one, rather than the one you’d been giving him all night, “well, we take turns playing music if we listen together—never particularly discussed it in detail though, he just knows the bands because of me.”

“You’re cool, I’ve never discussed my music taste with anyone before,” he said to instill a sense of trust and comfort, “and I’ve never had anyone winning Asphalt against me.”

“Oh—please. You can’t ever beat me,” you said, full of confidence about the game you grew up playing, more of a muscle memory by now. 

“Is that a challenge?” Jake smirked.

He loved challenges, it was simply an invitation to meet again, to show off what you’re best at, and he would love to see you hold that wheel again, imagining your pretty hands holding his throbbing cock for him instead. 

You huffed a laugh, a melody to his ears, “I’ve been playing since I was a kid, that would be unfair to you.”

There it was again—that ease. The way you spoke when you forgot to filter yourself, something he noticed you did with your friends and now him. Jake felt it settle into him, threading through his ribs. He pictured you younger, the way he’d seen in the pictures, thumbs quick, winning without trying. 

“Alright,” he said after a beat, “I’ll take my loss in advance then.”

That earned him another chuckle from you, and you genuinely felt like you had found a new friend that actually shared a few interests as you, it was a nice feeling, letting you be so deep in your thoughts that you completely missed out on Jake staring at your thighs. 

The music faded into background as you talked about the video games you grew up playing, Jake mentioned he did the same, leaving a few games out that you mentioned to not seem extra suspicious about the topic. One similarity is normal, a few similarities? Coincidence. All similarities—that’s a dead giveaway. 

The silence stretched for a minute, but you couldn’t contain your curiosity about someone you wanted to befriend. Jake was a genuine person, a kind soul with the want to help anyone. You couldn’t deny, he had all good qualities so far—maybe he did have some red flags, but you couldn’t spot any, not now. 

The lack of conversation that followed wasn’t awkward, it was rather comfortable. The kind that invited you to listen to the engine, to the rain ticking faintly against the windscreen, to the way the city lights slid across Jake’s hands as he drove. You watched his profile for a second longer than you meant to, then looked away before it could feel like staring.

“You’re quiet,” you said, mostly teasing now, and that tone had Jake gripping the wheel tighter.

Jake chuckled under his breath, “only when I’m tired.”

“Fair,” you murmured, then you shifted in your seat, “can I ask you something?”

Anything. He could talk to you all night—talk you through it all night. He glanced at you briefly with the same warmth, “yeah. Go on.”

“Do you read?” you asked, trying to figure out if the version of him in your head matched the real one, “like, properly read. Not just uni stuff.”

Jake’s answer came smooth, almost immediate, “I do, mostly psychological stuff, or thrillers. Do you?” He asked, knowing exactly what your sweet voice was going to say. 

“Oh I do! Have you read You by Caroline Kepnes? It’s about psychological obsession and—”

“—Stalking. Quite a fun read I must say,” he cuts you off, quite apt for the given situation. It almost felt like he outed himself with the way he so effortlessly admitted to it. It is fun, the way he knows about you, the way he’s the one making you smile, the way you belong to him, “what have you been reading?” 

“Woah, I don’t think I should tell,” you stretched, not sure how it’ll be perceived by Jake. 

“Hey! I won’t judge, what’s the worst it can be? Smut?” He chuckled.

“Well—yeah sort of similar. It’s called Bunny, sort of like a satire with hints of erotic literature,” you admitted, showing him a part of you not even your boyfriend knew about. 

Jake knew it, he knows all about your media consumption, “would it make you feel better if I say i’ve read it too?” 

“No way!” You laughed in amusement, “how even?”

“Found it on booktok,” he replied, the easiest way to make you believe it, “Couldn’t put it down no matter how uncomfortable it made me.”

“I swear, one of my friends read it and she said the same, but she was more uncomfortable than anything to enjoy it,” you shrugged, now facing him. Your skirt shifted up as you did so, but you didn’t care, ready to delve deeper into this newfound similarity, only to be disappointed when the car stopped. 

You looked out to find it right outside your lane, exactly where Jake had walked with you when you carried groceries. Jake noticed the way your eyes moved around, taking in the fact that you didn’t actually wish to leave. He achieved exactly what he wished for, just didn’t expect it to be this quick. 

“Ah—thank you for driving me home, tonight was fun,” you said and he swore he wouldn’t ever let any other guy drive you around if it meant that you’ll react this way to him, “and for this,” you pointed at the plushie in your hands, getting out of the car, but Jake was quick to stop that. 

It was rather impulsive how his hand reached out for yours, fingers wrapping around your wrist with ease, making him bite his lip faintly at the feel of your soft skin, visibly giving you goosebumps as he did so. 

“Wait,” he muttered, letting go of your hand with the remaining self control he had, grabbing the three more toys from the backseat, the ones you’d won and handing it to you, “don’t forget these.”

“Oh I almost forgot,” you said, thanking him again, “have a good night, Jake.” 

You said his name, and he lost his ability to speak, simply staring at you go, even though you did find it odd when you didn’t get a reply. It was hard to see inside his car with his tinted windows, but the second he saw you turning around and looking back, he smirked. That’s it love, that’s all you had to do for him—crave him, look back as if you wish to stay, as if you didn’t have a boyfriend at home. 

“Fuck,” he chuckled, “you’re so mine.”

He started driving again, grabbing the SD card from the car camera, checking his phone as soon as he got home to see the pretty view of your room. You’d kept the Eevee on your bed, perfect. He didn’t waste a second, getting the car recording, the one that showed your pretty thighs. Throwing his jacket away, he pulled his shirt up in a swift motion, taking his phone into the shower—letting the warm water cascade down his body, eyes fixated on how you shifted around in the seat, mind replaying your conversations, another shift of yours caused the skirt to ride up, his fingers wrapping around his hardened cock—it was almost painful, but he enjoyed every second of it.

With dark eyes, he stared at the clip, not caring about the burning water, the burn inside him was hotter as he stroked his length, sticking the phone on the wall, groaning loud as he hand rested beside the phone to support himself, “mine,” he said, jaw hung open, breathing hard around the warm mist that surrounded him, squeezing himself harder, “i’ll treat you so well, you’re mine, yeah? You know it, darling,” he continued, getting shocks of pleasure within minutes, making him chuckle like a madman. He was obsessed and there was no going back now. 

It was time for the next step. 

CHAPTER. 𝐕𝐈𝐈

The next five days were more than peaceful for you, even your boyfriend had decided to spare some time to take you out on a date, leaving every few minutes to take work calls—he’d been working on a big project. You understood him, of course you did, however, it did make you sigh before you put up a smile again when he returned. 

Jake on the other hand, his inner turmoil was worse than ever. Yes, he got to see you moving in your room, he saw you dancing when no one was home, and how you couldn’t help but touch yourself with the pathetic little toy you owned, something that your boyfriend didn’t even know about. The view wasn’t the best, cutting halfway because of the position of the camera, but it was enough for his cock to leak all day. 

He’d started journaling online, leaving traces on physical books would do him no good, especially when he wrote about the mole you had on your right thigh, the dates and colours of the nail polish you’ve been using, and how your absolute favourite pajamas did nothing to hide your body, which your boyfriend didn’t bother appreciating. 

Jake wondered how he could just come home and sleep right beside you when you looked that good all the time. Pathetic. Your boyfriend was pathetic. 

It was about time Jake showed you exactly how unreliable your childhood sweetheart was, grabbing his hoodie and heading out from a different route to your place. The act wasn’t thrilling with the lack of cameras around, but rather, he was buzzing with the confidence of getting another step closer to you. 

The back door was the easy way in, especially when he’d done his research well, a hairpin being his way inside your temporary home, checking for cameras only to find none. Careless was going to cost this dude his girlfriend. No, you weren’t even his, you belonged to Jake the second he laid his eyes on you. 

This trip was just to figure out the exact things you used, the type of food you consumed, and maybe leave a little gift before leaving. But most of all, going into your room and repositioning the plushie in a way that seems natural. It had been moved around a lot in the past few days, your room looked as if only you lived there, using the blue sheets—a colour you loved so much, the scent of you lingering around. 

“I wanna kill him,” Jake confessed to the air, tone blank, “but it won’t be as fun as seeing you lose faith in him.” He kept a small device on the upper corner of the window—a speaker that he had specifically asked to be designed as small as possible, fitting into the crack of the old wooden frame with ease, the darkness inside concealing it. 

He explored the bathroom, noticing the big mirror before he realized the presence of the laundry basket, your panties resting on the top, “ah,” he breathed out, grabbing it without even thinking, “fuck, you left it for me, right? You knew I was coming for you, hm? To smell you? Taste you?”

He holds it up, feeling the softness of the fabric on the tip of his nose, dragging the soft crotch of the fabric right under his nose, pressing it tight, inhaling again—deeper, groaning like he’d been possessed, “oh she was wet,” he moaned, tongue coming out to graze the soft cotton, lashes fluttering, “fucking sweet—so fucking sweet.” 

He couldn’t stop, leaving a wet patch on it, “you want me to take you home, huh?” He talked, all dazed, “I want to, fuck—too risky,” he shook his head, forcing it back in the basket, the same way it was there, but not before leaving a sweet kiss on it, eyes glossy

He thought about it again—taking them with him. Stuffing them in his pocket, keeping them under his pillow at home, pulling them out at night when he needed to jerk off to the thought of your scent, your taste. He wanted to, so fucking badly. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror—lips parted, cheeks flushed, hair slightly damp from the heat of his own body. He looked wrecked in the best way possible. 

When he saw the red dot on his phone moving, he knew it was time to leave, a string of curses leaving his mouth as he double checked for any evidence of his presence, leaving only when he was fully satisfied. He stopped by the neighbours house, taking out the little pamphlets he’d printed out before, slipping one in everyone’s mailbox before making his exit. 

By the time you reached home, hand in hand with your boyfriend, you noticed your neighbour reading something. She was a sweet lady, always bringing you homemade pie simply because you helped her with her phone once, she looked bothered. 

“Babe, you go ahead, i’ll talk to Mrs. Jones for a second, hm?” You smiled as he nodded, planting a simple kiss on your lips. 

You reached her as your boyfriend disappeared behind the door, “are you alright, ma’am?” 

She flashed you her beautiful smile once she saw you, “yeah, love. Just got this mail, talking about paranormal activity in the area,” she went ahead and showed you a video accessed through the QR code on the paper, “doesn’t it look real?” She was worried as she inquired. 

Even you gulped as you saw it, the ghastly shadows on the window on the third house from yours. There wasn’t any clue about who captured it, simply this piece of paper, “I’m sure it’s some kid trying to mess around!” You said to calm her down, and well, calm yourself. 

Your boyfriend brushed it off when you told him, repeating the exact same thing, but he was confident when he said so. You on the other hand, not so much. It was easy to cuddle him to sleep tonight, only then you could find comfort, he didn’t mind it at all—something that Jake did mind when he sat down, watching it on the big PC screen, a scoff leaving his mouth. 

The glass shattered against the wall before he could even register the throw, shards catching the dim light like broken stars. Jake’s chest rose with a sharp breath as he stared at the dripping line of water trailing down the plaster. He had to wait, just a few more hours before he could start, and the thrill of it all didn’t allow him to sleep all night, he dragged a hand through his hair, fingers snagging and pulling until a few strands fell loose around his face, leaving him looking unkempt, nothing like the composed version of himself everyone else knew.

By the evening, Jake was functioning purely on five cups of coffee and eight cans of red bull. Finally calm when he saw you alone on the bed, rolling through your phone with lights dimmed—the perfect setup for him to start off his plan slowly. Jake clicked on a few controls, letting it unfold. 

And it seemed to do the thing as the tiny speaker started buzzing, almost static at first. The faint hum blended with the low buzz of electricity, the distant rush of cars outside, the soft rustle of fabric when you shifted on the bed. You slowed your scrolling without really realizing why, eyes lingering on the screen as your brow creased slightly. Something felt off. You lifted your head, trying to follow the sound but nothing was out of place, everything exactly where you’d left it. 

The voice boomed louder, making you breathe harder as you stood up, “you’re all alone,” the voice came out ghastly, loud but in a low whisper.

Your breath came uneven now, shallow and quick, your chest rising too fast as you turned slowly, scanning the room with wide eyes. The lamp still glowed, the door was still shut, the window reflected your own face back at you, eyes too bright, lips parted as you tried to steady yourself.

“Stop,” you whispered without thinking, your voice small and thin against the weight of the silence that followed. You took a step back, then another, your heel bumping into the bed frame as your fingers curled into the fabric of your sleeves like you could anchor yourself there, “who’s there?”

You bit your lip, rushing out of the room as the voice kept on repeating over and over, reaching the door handle to go outside, trying to call your boyfriend—who didn’t pick up the phone first two times, only to pick it up, hearing you borderline crying, “what’s wrong, babe? What happened?” He asked urgently. 

“There’s—there’s someone, voice, inside—please come home,” you cried freely. 

And he did, inspecting everything inside the room to find absolutely nothing, yet he knew he should calm you down, saying it would have been something on your mind—maybe a dream? Something your unconscious made up after watching that video. You denied it, and he agreed, only to make you feel better. 

 Jake clicked his tongue at the pathetic excuse of the boyfriend you had, but it was just the start of misunderstandings, and soon, Jake would be the one to bring you comfort, entrusting a sense of peace within you. How could he not? When your relationship looked so fragile and boring, that’s not what you deserved. 

The next day at uni, your friends did agree with you to a certain extent, talking about how they’ve never experienced it before, but still being kind enough to listen to you.

“I swear I heard it,” you sighed, resting your head on the table.

“Lemme try googling it up,” Giselle said, only to find the actual paranormal activities that were widely known by the public, nothing specific to your address or the location. 

“Damn,” Karina muttered, looking at you but genuinely believing your words when she saw your face. 

It was only when it happened again, you lost your mind—your boyfriend simply asked you to go to your friend’s place or to the neighbour as he couldn’t come back home at that moment, and it was genuinely terrifying how the noise stopped the second you tried to record it. It made your heart hurt, as if your boyfriend didn’t care at all—he treated you like a kid running away from the monster under the bed, it truly didn’t help that the said noises never buzzed in his presence. 

“Poor baby,” Jake muttered sitting in his car, waiting right outside the library. He looked better than ever, no traces of sleep deprivation and madness on his face now, not when he had to keep his act up, “nowhere to go now, hm? I’ll wait inside,” he muttered, getting out with that perfect smile of his, knowing that you wouldn’t want to be home alone, which leaves one perfect place for you to go—the library. 

He sat down exactly where you could see him, and you did—the second you entered the library you noticed him, stopping in your tracks to ponder if you should even approach him, and Jake sensed that, faking and stopping the way he was working on something to look up, eyes shining when he found you, making it seem natural like the actor he was. 

He waved at you, that being an invitation enough for you to walk to him, taking the spot next to him without much thinking, mind drifting back to the last conversation you had with him—that being the last time you felt happy and at peace without your close ones throwing Schizophrenic accusations your way, the worry evident on your beautiful face. Jake was the cause of it, and he hated that, but you were a good girl for him, right? You had to endure just a little more. 

“You okay, love?” He encourages you to speak, watching you breathe harder, “you look bothered.”

Jake’s face displayed exactly the reaction you’d been wanting all this while—genuine concern, asking if you’re okay, not just brushing things under a rug. Your heart beat rose, thrumming against your ribs as you tried to nod, “you won’t believe even if I tell you.”

“C’mon, just try trusting me, hm?” He said with such an alluring voice, you found your lip trembling. 

“I—I think my place, it’s haunted,” you started, observing his face, maybe expecting him to laugh or make fun of you. But he didn’t, he looked concerned, urging you to continue, “I keep hearing these noises, distorted but still.”

“That sounds serious, did you tell anyone about it?”

Of course you did, and he knows how they reacted, how they didn’t trust you even when you looked so beautiful crying and shaking in fear. He would never do that, he couldn’t. 

“I did, but they think it’s just my imagination—but I swear I know what I heard,” you tried to explain yourself. 

“I trust you—hey, calm down, okay? You’re safe,” he muttered gently, grabbing your hand that was shaking, and you let him, you allowed that comfort to seep in, nodding with your lips pressed. 

“No one believes me,” you sighed, trying to maintain your composure, the heat of his hands helping you through it, especially when he looked at you like—he looks at everyone like that, your mind reminded you, but you didn’t care anymore. 

“I can see you’re not making things up, you look like you haven’t slept in a while,” he noticed, and he wished he was the one to keep you awake and not that stupid noise, “it’s okay, you can talk about it anytime, hm?”

You nodded mindlessly, fingers curling around his so gently as if you’d given in, Jake pressed his legs together under the table, body hyper aware of you, your scent, your fear, trust, everything, “you’re so nice to me,” you spoke as if you were confessing, and it took everything in Jake to not moan. 

“Hey, it’s nothing. If it happens again, you can text me, or call me. You have my number in the supervision group, right?” 

“I do.”

“Good,” he said, and meant it in more ways than one, “even if you just need to talk. You don’t have to decide whether it’s serious enough first.” His gaze held yours, “if you’re scared, that’s reason enough.”

“Thank you, Jake—for not making me feel stupid,” you gulped, heat creeping up your neck. 

“You’re not, and I wouldn’t do that to you,” he replied earnestly, leaning back first, “and if you don’t wanna spend your time at home, you can always meet up with your friends during the day, or just come find me at the library and we can talk about anything.”

You felt calm, at peace if you could call it, just simply better than whatever you were at home. Jake only made it better, taking over the conversation and asking you about movies, discussing a few of your favourites, making sure that he talks about a few that you haven’t watched yet. He saw it, the way the light of your eyes came back slowly, or how you laughed, trying to conceal it in the silence of the library. The only loud thing here was Jake’s heartbeat, and yours matched him soon. 

He took a moment to stare, remembering the shade of the lipgloss—you’d gotten a new one with the same shade, undoubtedly it was your favourite one. How your legs faced him now, a clear indication that your entire focus was on him. It was hard, so insanely hard to not pull you between the lines of books and kiss you right there, to hear if your moans were as beautiful as your giggles. Even the scent of your lotion on his hands got him dizzy, almost as if he wished to bathe in it. 

It was only when your phone rang you realized how late it was, and for the first time, you could feel the time passing as quick as Jake did. So many topics explored, so many conversations, which undoubtedly had Jake wanting to rush things, but couldn’t mess it up, not when he’d been working on it for so long. You excused yourself to pick up your mother’s call, and Jake sank into the chair, “fuck, oh fuck I love her,” he said it out loud. 

Love? Jake had never been in love before, and he will never be in love ever again. As smoothly as he whispered it, making sure no one hears, as surprising it was, jaw clenching, a newfound glow on this face with the determination to make you his lover forever. 

He was practically shining when you came back, and it was normal for you, because he always had that glow around him, “I should head back home, my boyfriend must be back.”

That’s it, the fucking boyfriend again, “sure, let me drive you back.”

“No—it’s okay, I can walk,” you replied, a small pout on your face. 

“It’s alright, that’s what friends are for, right?” 

Friend. Jake considered you a friend, and the label had you both happy and somehow, sad? But you took it, because you saw him that way too, not knowing how Jake was about to burst a vein at the statement. 

“Okay then.” Giving him a carefree smile, you both gathered your things, walking out together.

Jake was on his best behaviour, opening the door for you, making sure to hide the receipt in the closed compartment of the center console. The same one he took from the bag when he helped you carry the bags home—simply to understand your usual routine, what juices you drank, what brand of pasta you used. Everything. 

He loved it, spending every second of the day with you, that’s all the was for, right? Everyone comes to earth with a purpose, and you were his. The goodbye was painful, but it had to be done, because he expected a text tonight. He wasn’t going to reach out first, you were going to do it. Why? Because you trusted him. 

“Wait a little more, darling. You’ll never be scared again,” he muttered, watching your figure walk away, and just like the last time, you turned around to look his way, this time it felt more natural, your body reacting before your mind, and his work for the night was done. 

When you entered your place, your mood was back to being as dark as the home was—your boyfriend was nowhere to be found. You checked your phone, texting him as you switched on the lights, and his reply came a minute later. 

boyfie: i’ll be home a lil late baby, js rest okay?

Okay, you typed back, then added a heart out of habit, even though the gesture felt a little hollow tonight. You tossed the phone onto the couch and stood there, keys still in your hand, listening to the quiet settle in around you.

You sat on the edge of the bed and exhaled, rubbing your palms over your thighs. Your body felt tired in that dull, end-of-day way, but your mind wouldn’t slow down. It kept circling back to the same thing, the same person, without you meaning it to. Jake.

You frowned slightly at yourself, annoyed, but the thought didn’t go away. His voice from earlier replayed in your head, the way he’d looked at you when you talked like what you were saying mattered. Like you mattered. It was embarrassing how much that had stuck with you. You reached for your phone again, telling yourself you were just checking time, you weren’t. 

Every little sound, even the creak of your bed had you on high alert, and when you heard a little buzz, that’s when you knew you had to text someone. Jake was the first one on your mind, but despite that, you gave your friends a chance, well knowing Karina was at her family dinner and Giselle had gone back to her town for the weekend. They did send replies, but you didn’t feel at peace, as if you needed a solid conversation to break this fear. 

You locked your phone, but grabbed it again, opening the group chat, checking the members, clicking on Jake’s contact—a picture of him filling up your screen. He was smiling, hair messy and wavy. He wasn’t wearing any glasses, eyes shining perfectly in the sunlight, “god,” you mumbled, shaking your head, opening the text message. 

You: hey, it’s Y/N

Jake replied in two minutes, and you were grateful for it. 

Jake: hey, is everything okay? You: im sorry i didn’t mean to disturb  Jake: ofc not, love. what’s happening? 

Your breath hitched the way he used nicknames so easily, and how you didn’t mind it by any means. Meanwhile Jake looked smug, sitting up on his bed, and how could he not? You missed him, you were thinking of him, it hadn’t even been long since you got home and yet—you reached out to him first, exactly how you’d come running to him after breaking up with your boyfriend. 

You: my bf isn’t home yet, the silence is scary Jake: do you wanna talk?  You: if you’re okay w it?

Now, you didn’t expect him to call you, you simply expected a text conversation. Your phone started ringing before you could even finish forming the thought, the screen lighting up with his name. You froze for half a second, staring at it like it might disappear if you didn’t react fast enough. You swallowed and glanced around the room, suddenly aware of how quiet it was again, how the walls seemed to listen, and so, you answered.

“Hey,” you said softly, your voice sounding smaller than you meant it to.

“Hey,” Jake replied, just as quietly, like he’d instinctively matched your tone, “I hope this is okay. You don’t have to stay on if you don’t want to.”

“No—no, it’s fine,” you said quickly, shifting on the bed and pulling your legs closer to you, “I just—didn’t expect it.”

He huffed out a faint laugh on the other end, “yeah, sorry. I figured it might be easier than typing if you’re already on edge.”

Oh Jake loved it, the sound of your voice giving in, opening up to him, telling him exactly what’s going on as if he wasn’t watching you smile at the little things he said. He stopped breathing the second you rolled on your stomach, picking up the Eevee plushie, as if staring right at him, caressing the toy mindlessly as the conversation flowed. 

“Do you ever make up conversations in your head before it happens?” You ask, not knowing why you did, maybe because you thought about it while texting Jake. 

He chuckled, the sweetness of your voice making him shove his free hand down his sweatpants, “isn’t that normal though?”

“Right? I just feel like I overthink so much,” you sighed, completely missing out on the tiny groan that came from his side, cock hard and leaking, “even when I don’t like how a book is written, I usually think about what it could have been.”

“You should write,” Jake managed to speak midway through his session, “I think you’ll do well.”

“I do actually,” you mumbled, revealing a part of yourself that no one apart from your boyfriend knows, “it’s under works, not good enough to be published as a book, but maybe someday I can publish my poetry.”

Now, this is something Jake did not know, he couldn’t find it linked anywhere, not a single mention of it, but oh he loved it. Would you write poems for him too once you realize that he’s the one you love? Would you give in and turn him into an immortal piece of art? Because he would, he would do it all for you. 

“Fuck—that’s crazy,” he said, covering up yet another groan, hips thrusting up to meet his fisted hand, and you were just there, not knowing what he was up to, “you’re so talented, I can’t believe you don’t talk about it.”

You smiled, it felt nice being appreciated, as for him? He could praise you forever. He wasn’t this weak before, his body was completely and utterly yours now, the way he carried the conversation before you took over, chatting freely, ignoring the warmth it brought you, it was too much for him, enough that he had to push the phone away to let out a silent groan, making a mess over his pants.

God, he loved you—he loves you. He’s in love with you, every bit of you, and he wants to know more, your voice is the sweetest he’s ever heard, not even songs could bring him this pleasure, and so he recorded the whole call, every second of your laugh. All before you felt so comfortable, you fell asleep on the call.

He lay there, phone still pressed to his ear, eyes half-lidded, chest rising and falling under the thin fabric of his shirt, still wrecked, still shaking slightly from the mess he’d made minutes earlier, not having it in him to end the call, not when he could hear the faint sound of your breath, not when he could watch you sleep so peacefully, and fuck you looked pretty even sleeping. Jake closed his eyes, dragging a shaky hand over his face, smearing his own warmth across his skin, biting down a groan that still tried to fight its way out of him.

“Can’t believe you’re real,” he whispered, to no one, to you, to the dark, “can’t believe I get to hear you like this.”

He put the phone beside him, only ending the call when he noticed the presence of another man entering the room, it should have been Jake. Throwing his phone away, he breathed hard, then he laughed. It started low in his chest, strained and breathless at first, until it clawed its way up, breaking past his throat in a sound so raw it startled even him. The kind of laugh that came from deep inside, borderline hysterical, He curled forward slightly, shoulders trembling as he pressed the back of his wrist to his mouth, but it wouldn’t stop. 

“You trust me,” he gasped out between broken chuckles, eyes wide, almost glassy, “you trust me, baby. You fell asleep on me, fuck.”

His voice cracked on the last word. A quiet, shuddering breath followed, and he let his head drop back to the pillow, lids fluttering shut. His body still felt wrecked, but all he could feel was the rush. You trusted him—without even knowing half of what he was. Without knowing what he did with your voice echoing in his ear. Without knowing how much of you he kept with him. 

“No one else gets that,” he whispered, voice rasped raw, “he doesn’t get that. He doesn’t know what you sound like when your voice gets tired at the edges. He doesn’t know how you hum without meaning to. He doesn’t know shit.”

He grabbed the lipgloss from the bedside table—your lipgloss, the one you used each day without a fail. Jake had picked it up now, rolling it between his fingers, studying the faint wear on the tube. He twisted it open, leaning back against the pillows, drawing one knee up slightly as he dragged the wand across his thigh in a smooth stroke. Jake stared at it, lips parted, watching the way the sheen clung to his skin, sticky and perfect. 

He traced it with his fingertips, smudging it over the place as if you’d kissed him there yourself, bringing his hand up to apply the same on his plump lips, messy and wet, “that’s how I wanna be, ruined for you,” he whispered, gathering more, around to smudge it over the tip of his cock, smirking, “looks perfect on me, baby. Perfect,” he kept on mumbling, drifting into sleep with you in his mind. 

Only you. 

CHAPTER. 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈

“Where the fuck have you been?” Sunghoon’s voice boomed just as Jake let him in, the door swinging back a little too fast from his palm. Jake didn’t flinch, not bothering to answer immediately, just turned and walked toward the balcony like he hadn’t just spent the entire night dreaming about you. Jay followed right after, clicking the door shut. 

Jake didn’t acknowledge either of them. He slid the glass door open and stepped out barefoot, the concrete still warm from the day’s sun. A small pot sat in the far corner, centered between two older plants that hadn’t seen water in weeks. He crouched slowly, fingers brushing the edge of the ceramic like it meant everything to him.

Sansevieria—the plant which gives oxygen both day and night. Jake had read that line three times in the nursery aisle that he’d bothered to visit earlier in the morning. 

“Can you reply at least? You just go to lectures and leave before we can even catch up,” Jay went on. 

“I’ve been busy,” Jake replied, inspecting the upright leaves, checking the soil next, completely ignoring the other two plants. 

“Busy? Doing what?” Sunghoon said, pissed as Jay googled the plant. 

“Assignments and shit man, you know the professors throw around work, especially to me,” he lied smoothly. Jake never wasted too much time on it, he was smart enough to complete everything beforehand, rather than leaving it to the last minute. 

“Of course you’d get something that survives on nothing,” Jay muttered from behind him, leaning against the doorframe, “you don’t even water the others.”

“Oh shut it, this one’s different,” he murmured, thumb brushing over a leaf with such care it almost looked like he was touching skin, “It doesn’t just survive, it helps you breathe.”

Jay glanced at Sunghoon, but didn’t say anything. Neither of them could read him when he got like this, clearly unimpressed with the expressions on their faces. Jake stood slowly, wiping his hand on his thigh, ignoring the dirt streak it left behind. His gaze lingered on the pot for a moment longer—on the smudged black marker under it, your name hidden where no one could see. He imagined you standing on this balcony, bare feet against the concrete, your skin soft in the morning sun. Maybe you’d crouch the same way, tilt the pot in your hand, smile at how healthy the leaves looked. 

You hadn’t texted him in the morning, which was okay since plants needed time to grow, and so did trust. 

Jay sighed, “you’re down bad.”

“What?” Jake whipped his head, staring at Jay now. He wouldn’t deny it, but how does he even know? What does he know about his love, about you?

“I saw it—at the arcade. And you drove her back home. Isn’t she the one you like?” Jay asked normally, and Jake’s heart fluttered. 

“We’re friends,” he said despite hating the word, “I wouldn’t do shit when she’s got a boyfriend, she trusts me.” 

“Okay, fair,” Sunghoon muttered, as Jake closed the balcony door behind him, “at least play Valo with us tonight, you’ve been giving excuses all week.”

“Then here’s another one—” 

The boys groaned, “what now?”

“I have to run to the library, so if I get back on time i’ll log in, deal? Otherwise I’ll just join tomorrow, I’m free.”

They stared at him for a few seconds, making him groan in disgust, “just say yes, what the fuck?”

“You better not cancel,” Sunghoon warns before letting Jake breathe again. 

That wasn’t important, you came first, which is why he was quick to dress up a bit better, grabbing the essentials, making sure Jay and Hoon had left before he made his way out, giving the plant one last look, “oh she’s gonna come again,” he mumbled with a smirk. 

He sat down there, on the same spot as yesterday, grabbing his phone to check your red dot, moving straight to him. He looked lovesick, heart beating fast as he proceeded how easy it was to be in love, how you reciprocated the said feeling without even knowing it. 

You couldn’t reply to Jake, not after you fell asleep on the call—gosh, that was embarrassing. But that didn’t stop you from seeking comfort. The second you heard the faint buzzing again, you got ready to head to the library in hopes of finding silence, and if possible, Jake. And maybe that was the real reason, which you tried your best to deny. By the time you reached the library, your heart was already racing.

You stepped through the doors, greeted by the familiar scent of books. And there he was, exactly where you’d seen him yesterday, a faint smile on his face as he felt you enter, not looking up just yet, not till you reach him yourself, and you did, standing right beside him, your shadow stretching across the table, making Jake lift his head. 

He took your name with a smile, making you mirror his expression, sitting down next to him, legs brushing faintly. 

“I’m sorry, I fell asleep last night,” you apologized, looking elsewhere. 

Jake found it adorable, as if he didn’t wish for it to happen each night, if only you’d sleep with him, next to him. Jake shook his head gently, his smile softening in a way you couldn’t quite place—tender perhaps? 

“Don’t be, I’m glad you felt comfy enough to do so.”

When you paused, face heating up, Jake only smiled and continued to speak again, “so, what’s the plan for today? Any assignments to work on?”

You shook your head, “I did them already, just wanted to come out to feel better I guess?”

“Yeah?” Jake asked, eyes bright.  

“Yeah,” you gave him a little nod. 

“So—do you wanna get out of here?” He asked, and for the first time, he didn’t feel as confident about himself, knowing well he was crossing a line wording it that way. But he knew he had to, it was a requirement before he went ahead with the final step. 

You glanced at him, unsure what to say at first. The library had always felt like neutral ground, it was easy to share space without crossing into anything that felt like more. But this—stepping outside that invisible line, choosing to be somewhere with him just to be with him—it felt different.

You let out a shaky breath, “where would we even go?”

And that question was music to Jake’s ears. You were willing to go out with him? Oh that’s beautiful, you see how much he loves you? How he’s staring at you like he’ll actually go to space and collect pretty stars just so you could have them? It’s perfect, just two lovers going out on their first date. 

He smirked, simply grabbing your bag which you put down, carrying it with him as he started walking, the gesture too bold for you as you stared. You shook your head and caught up to him, walking side by side, leaving the library now.

“You’re not gonna tell me where we’re going?” you asked, watching the way the breeze ruffled his hair. He was wearing a grey hoodie today, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, veins faint beneath the skin of his forearms as he held your bag without complaint.

Jake glanced at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “not yet,” he said, “you’ll like it though. Promise.”

“Let’s see,” you challenged, completely ignoring the notification you got—a text from your boyfriend, which was surprising, but the moment with Jake felt more important to you now. 

It wasn’t a long walk, but you were concerned when the area blended into an unfamiliar one. The sun had softened to its late-afternoon hue, golden and gentle, casting long shadows as you followed him through a narrower street just off the main road. It was a path you hadn’t taken before, tucked between cafés and residential flats, with cracked sidewalks and ivy trailing over low walls. Jake turned without warning into a tiny alley, and you paused at the entrance.

“Are you kidnapping me?” you asked dryly.

He laughed over his shoulder, only if he could, “you’d be lucky.”

Rolling your eyes, you followed, and then he stopped, hand resting on the frame of an old wooden door tucked into the corner of a quiet building. There was a faded sign above the glass: Moonstar Books. A bell chimed softly as he pushed the door open.

It was dim and smelled like old paper and lavender, the scent that instantly made you breathe deeper. The store was narrow but deep, with tall shelves and crooked aisles, handwritten category signs, and vintage postcards pinned to a corkboard near the register. The woman behind the counter gave Jake a lazy wave, barely looking up from her book, which made you chuckle. 

“You like books, so this one’s on me,” Jake said, gesturing to you to check out the aisles, and you didn’t even bother to argue, too in awe to do so, not even noticing Jake clicking your picture—perhaps the prettiest one. People say the camera captures you best when it’s held by someone who sees you through the eyes of love, Jake was the prime example for the same. 

“I love it here,” you squealed, as Jake paid for the three books you picked out with much thinking, highly aware of how Jake followed you, grabbing the books on the taller shelves, practically caging you in his arms—in his scent, the one you’d grown to find comfort in. 

You let out a shaky breath, as he stared down, passing the book to you. You turned your head at the same time he looked down. Close—too fucking close—his breath hit your cheek as your fingertips met in that small, unspoken exchange, the warmth of him passing on to you. And for the longest second, you didn’t move, didn’t stop staring at the pretty man in front of you, the back of your mind reminding you of the boyfriend you have—and the thought was thrown away the second he smiled, sweet and pure as honey. 

The faint music played in the background, pretty apt for the situation. I wanna be yours by Arctic Monkeys. You’d seen such scenes with the amount of rom-coms you consumed, the books you read, and the authors didn’t lie when they described the feeling of it all happening in real time. Your face was warm, lips parted, like your body forgot how to hide feelings. You looked up, and Jake was already watching you, like he was memorizing this—every inch of you under this soft light, in this narrow aisle, with your back pressed against shelves of paperbacks and your breath catching in your throat.

“Come,” he mumbled, breaking the silence you two held as he paid for the books, then guiding you upstairs. You didn’t even know there was more to the bookstore, but Jake never failed to surprise you. 

Jake didn’t say much as he led you up the narrow staircase tucked between two tall bookshelves. The steps creaked softly under your feet, wood worn smooth by time, and the scent of old paper followed you all the way up. You could still hear the soft music filtering through the floors as you stepped out onto the terrace. The space was small but beautiful, almost dreamlike. String lights hung overhead in uneven lines, swaying gently in the breeze, casting everything in a honey-washed hue that made the world look slowed down, dulled at the edges like a hazy lil photograph. 

Potted plants framed the corners, and right in the center sat a small wooden table, surrounded by mismatched chairs that didn’t look like they belonged together—yet somehow, they did. A stack of forgotten poetry books rested at the edge, pages curling in the wind. Jake walked ahead and placed your bag on one of the chairs, glancing back to make sure you were still with him.

“Pretty, right?” He asked, “I come here when I feel like breathing, genuinely just breathing,” he lied smoothly, he’d been here twice to make sure the place was good, funding it enough to make this happen, restoring the beauty just for you, just for the smile that you gave him so freely now. 

The chair creaked softly beneath you as you sat, and Jake mirrored your movement, choosing the seat across from you but turning it slightly, angling it closer, like he couldn’t bear the distance.

“It’s really peaceful,” you said, your voice quieter now, “feels like something out of a movie.”

You felt like something out of a movie, polished to perfection without any filters or colour grading—you didn’t need anything. To Jake, you were his favourite movie, the one he’d rewatch each day without a question, and still he’d find something new, like the little mole on your ear. It was so small, barely visible, but he stared at you with such a need to fit everything into his memory, leaving such an important detail was simply out of question. 

He got up, walking to the vending machine tucked beside the terrace door, the glow of it buzzing softly in the quiet. He didn’t ask you what you wanted. He already knew, but grabbed a few more things to seem less suspicious about it. 

“I’ll pay you back—”

“You don’t have to,” Jake replied in a beat, opening the can of red bull and taking in a sip. 

“You know—I don’t get why you don’t have a girlfriend,” you pry, sipping on your juice, wondering if he had any—wait, did he? You never asked, just assumed, but why would he be here with you if he had someone. 

The same way you’re out with him despite having a boyfriend, your inner voice reminded you, and it was unsettling, but you didn’t wish to focus on him, not when he wasn’t ever present when you needed him. 

“I don’t know, just never met someone I can actually be with before,” he confessed, knowing well that you were the only one he wanted to be with, wanted to die with. 

“That’s odd,” you started, “y’know, on our first day—orientation day. Karina told us that you have this reputation of a fuckboy,” you confessed. 

Jake lost composure at that, eyes widening. Did you know? Did you actually think of him that way? No, no, no. Karina should’ve kept her mouth shut, this was bad, you couldn’t know. 

“Woah, that’s an insane rumour,” Jake looked confused, a display of how great of an actor he was. 

“So you don’t sleep around?” You asked. 

Oh you were so curious, talking about sex with Jake now? He didn’t mind at all, “Okay I admit I’m not a virgin, but I don’t sleep around either,” he replied, eyes on you, specs sitting perfectly on his nose. 

You nodded, disappointed for absolutely no reason, and he could see it, he could make it out so clearly, getting the exact reaction he was aiming for. Then he decided to change the topic, urging you to stare at the sky, which looked as pretty as a colour palette. 

“Wait, I just realized. You know where I live—” you started and Jake paused, panicking within, “—but I don’t know where you live.”

“Oh,” he sighed softly, calming down again, grabbing a quote book as he joined you by the railing, watching the sunset, “just walk five minutes further on the street, you’ll see this big building named Orion, I’m on the penthouse floor,” Jake said, giving out his whole address, knowing you’ll use it soon. 

“Woah, you just gave me the address, not scared? What if I stalk you?” You chuckled, and Jake found it way more interesting than you did. 

“I’d like to see you try,” he challenged, leaning in, handing you the book in his hands, “wanna read a quote each? Take turns?” He asked, making your heart flutter again. 

Under the amber veil of the setting sun, you took the book from his hands. It was soft with age, the cover cracked at the spine and the edges curled in, like it had been loved quietly for years. Your fingers brushed his as you held it. 

“Alright,” you said, and your voice sounded strange to your own ears, so gentle and sweet. 

Flipping the pages, you settled on the one you genuinely loved, as if it resonated with you the most, “whatever our souls are made of,” you read, “his and mine are the same.”

The page was no longer a page, it was the confession you’d never dare speak aloud, the line between fiction and the undeniable reality, and you didn’t realize until after you’d said it that you weren’t just reading it—you meant it. When you glanced up, Jake was already watching you, like he’d been holding his breath the whole time. But still, he said nothing—until he took the book from you, eyes full of the feeling named yearning. 

His thumb paused at a page, “I loved her against reason,” he said, “against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness.”

Your breath hitched as the wind tugged gently at your clothes, the lights above swayed, but neither of you moved, and that’s when you knew—everything had changed. 

The evening air had turned cooler, brushing against your skin like a gentle reminder that the day was over as you went inside your home—but your mind didn’t feel finished. The sky above you was streaked in pink and grey, a beautiful kind of mess, not unlike the thoughts circling in your head—Jake. His words, those quotes. That look in his eyes like he’d waited lifetimes just to sit across from you like that. 

He had done no wrong, always been so respectful and kind, never once touching you or invading your space in a way that would make you uncomfortable. But it didn’t take a genius to realize how emotionally attached you were to him already, feeling bad for your boyfriend. You shut the door behind you, the familiar click echoing louder than it should have, and leaned your weight into it for a second. Your chest felt tight, not from guilt exactly, but from the confusion that sat heavy beneath it. 

“Where have you been?” your boyfriend’s voice cut through the space, “I’ve been so worried, you didn’t even reply to the texts!”

“I didn’t see them, I was at the library,” you replied too quickly, and you hated how easy the lie came. But even if you had seen them—what would you have said? That you were sitting on a sun-washed terrace with Jake, talking about quotes and oxygen and stars? 

“You could’ve at least called. It’s not like I’ve been sleeping well with everything going on.”

That stung, and you didn’t even know why. Maybe because you had been spiraling for days, and not once had he said that to your face. Maybe because the version of him who said that now sounded more inconvenienced than concerned.

“I didn’t mean to worry you,” you offered, but your voice came out flat. You weren’t sure which part of you was tired anymore—the physical, the mental, or the emotional. All of it?

“Is something wrong, babe?” He asked, walking up to you now, completely ignoring how you’ve been telling him what was wrong—the noises, his absence, the distrust, everything. 

“Just, you haven’t been here,” you said, hoping to find the same comfort, but he took it as a complaint. 

“You know I’m working hard for us,” he sighed, almost annoyed, and you swore this wasn’t the man you fell in love with a few years back. Maybe he had a point, but what’s the actual point of a relationship where there’s no comfort? No time?  

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” you replied, letting him win as he pulled you in a hug. 

A hug without warmth. 

CHAPTER. 𝐈𝐗

Jake leaned against the back wall of the corner pharmacy, hood up, sunglasses low on his nose as he watched your boyfriend step outside across the street. Same jacket, same casual gait, scrolling through his phone like every other day. Jake knew his break schedule down to the minute now. Two days had passed, lectures had started, and yet, Jake was suffering withdrawals of you, your love, your smile. He had to do something, a final gesture to make you run to him. 

His fingers toyed with the edge of his sleeve, heart pacing steady. He didn’t need to follow far, just until the path curved behind the building, just until no one else was watching. Jake’s shoes moved quietly behind him, and right then, he rushed, jabbing his hand on the neck, on the Vagus nerve of your boyfriend, causing him to drop down on the street instantly, fainting but he didn’t even register that it came from someone else. 

Jake chuckled, dragging him into the alleyway, pulling out the needle from his bag, not bothering to sterilize the skin before he pierced through it, gathering your boyfriend’s blood in a vacutainer, just enough for his plan to work. It was that easy, Jake loved how meticulously he carried out everything, rushing away after cleaning the evidence of blood on the boyfriend’s arm, almost like a mosquito bit him. 

He rushed out, running a bit farther, gathering the attention of an old lady, who barely registered Jake’s face and built, “hello!” He said, changing his voice entirely, “a man just fainted there,” he pointed it out, “I can’t help i’m running late, can you please check up on him?” 

With that, he rushed away. See? He was a good man, never harming anyone, not until he had to, even if he wanted to drain every drop of blood in him, he didn’t. He ran, getting into his car and driving away without any trace, laughing louder than ever, enough for his veins to be visible on his neck. 

He didn’t have much time, not when you were going to come back home. He parked his car farther away, mumbling your name on repeat like a mantra as successfully reached the back door of your house—which won’t be yours after tonight. Jake felt dizzy, as if his blood was taken away, but it was simply the thrill of making art, the kind of art you’d enjoy, or would you? 

“Y/N,” he groaned, “come to me soon, baby. I can’t wait anymore, just come to me, okay?” He laughed quietly after that, dragging a hand through his hair, pacing in a tight circle, every thought looping back to you no matter how hard he tried to think of anything else. Your smile on the terrace. The way your voice softened when you felt safe. 

“You don’t even know how close you are,” he murmured, eyes unfocused now, staring at nothing, “how everything’s already done. You don’t have to be scared anymore. I fixed it. I fixed everything.”

His hands shook, not with doubt, but with emotion—too much feeling crammed into one moment. Love, possession, devotion, all blurring together until there was no separating them anymore. In his mind, they had always been the same thing anyway. Jake leaned his forehead against the cool surface nearby, eyes squeezed shut, smiling through clenched teeth, forcing himself out of the house, and into hiding closeby. 

You reached home after a few minutes, body tired with the amount of lectures you had to attend today, and the absence of Jake—that fucked you over the most. You did run into him at the Uni hallway earlier, he was busy with his duties but stopped by to greet you, and you appreciated it, but you didn’t appreciate Giselle trying to flirt with him—oh you were messed up. 

But nothing could have prepared you for what came next. Your loud scream tore through the air, your heart slammed violently against your ribs, breath catching so sharply it hurt. 

You’re alone baby, no one can save you.

It wasn’t real, it couldn’t be, right? Maybe everyone’s right and you’re dreaming, or maybe you’re schizophrenic, because there’s absolutely no way your bathroom mirror is covered with blood. The silence was unbearable, unsettling, but you couldn’t move, body paused as your eyes drifted, reading each word again, and again. Tears streamed down your face, begging yourself to run out, but your legs were too weak to do so. Every instinct in your body screamed to run, but your muscles had locked up, useless against the overwhelming dread that had settled into your bones.

You tried taking deep breaths, and it helped a little as you forced yourself to crawl out, grabbing your phone with shaking hands, rushing out of the house as best as you can, calling the first person on your speed dial—your boyfriend, who was finally kind enough to pick up your call. 

“I’m busy—” he started, pausing once he heard your voice, the way you cried out so freely, so loud, he stood up from his desk, “what’s wrong?”

It was no surprise that your boyfriend was okay, being fully convinced he fainted on the street because of someone running into him, slamming him on the wall. He was so embarrassed he did not bother telling anyone about it, especially when an old lady was the one who helped him. He was a fool, this is why Jake wanted him gone from your life.

“Th—there’s b—blood,” you wailed, “please—come back.”

“What? Okay just stay with Mrs. Jones, I’ll be back soon, yeah?” He reassured you as you stood up weakly, walking to the house next door, scaring the poor woman who was too afraid to actually go and check if you’d been lying or not, simply taking you in and offering water. She seemed as shaken as you did. 

Jake appeared from the back door again, “I’m sorry, baby, you know I did this for us, right?” He smiled, looking beautiful even in madness, cleaning up the bathroom mirror with white vinegar solution, leaving no marks behind, letting it dry with fondness on his face as he sprayed the bathroom fragrance you kept right there. And just like that, there wasn’t a single trace of blood left, just pure fondness on Jake’s face as he mumbled to himself, getting out of the place he won’t ever be visiting again. 

You were glad your boyfriend was listening to you, so glad he was coming back home, maybe he’d finally believe you, if not then Jake would. The poor lady could only do so much, getting you a warm cup of tea. You didn’t bother rushing to the door when the doorbell rang, you didn’t hug your boyfriend, who looked as if he ran all the way back to home, and you couldn’t, not till you prove yourself right. 

He thanked Mrs. Jones, helping your shaking self out of the home, to finally go and investigate what you’d been crying about. It felt real for once, the way you looked horrified, not even able to string together a full sentence. You couldn’t lie like this, not with the way your hands trembled in his grip, the way your wide, pleading eyes begged—please, believe me.

Your boyfriend stayed quiet as he unlocked the door and stepped inside, head tilted slightly like he was already in disbelief about this whole situation, about having to do this at all. You followed behind slowly, keeping close to the wall, as if the house itself might shift and trap you in again. He made a direct path to the bathroom, and your nails dug into your palms as he pushed the door open, flicking the lights on. 

The tiles gleamed, the mirror spotless. No sign of anything being wrong. No dirt, no mess, no handprint on the wall like you’d sworn was there. It was pristine, oh it was sterile, like it hadn’t even been used. He turned back toward you slowly, a deep exhale leaving his chest as he stepped out, arms folded.

“Seriously?” he said, voice sharp, “this is what you were freaking out over?”

You stepped inside, hands flat on the mirror. It couldn’t be, you were not lying about this, you know exactly what you’d seen, and it made you angry, the way you were being embarrassed again and again, and even your so-called boyfriend didn’t believe you. 

“No,” you said, voice rising, breaking, “no, this is bullshit. I’m not making this up—I know exactly what I saw.”

He scoffed behind you, “you think you know. That’s the problem, you’re always so sure, and then there’s nothing. Ever.”

You spun around, anger finally snapping through, “don’t you dare talk to me like that. Don’t you fucking dare.”

He stepped closer, voice raised now too, irritation spilling over, “then explain it to me! What the fuck is happening, huh? Are you doing this for attention?”

“For attention?” you repeated, “are you actually fucking serious right now?”

He didn’t back down. If anything, he looked more frustrated, hands thrown out in anger, “then what am I supposed to think? You’re always shaking, crying, dragging our neighbour into it, and there’s nothing here. Nothing. No fucking proof. No sign. What else am I meant to assume?”

“That I’m scared,” you shouted, stepping toward him, “that I was terrified in my own house—that I needed you.”

“I am here now,” he retorted.

“Too late,” you snapped, “you’re always here after everything’s already fallen apart.”

He laughed, disbelieving, the sound slicing straight through you, “you’re acting like I abandoned you. I was literally at work, did you even know I fucking fainted? That I was attacked? I’ve been so overworked. I can’t just drop everything every time you spiral.”

“I wasn’t spiraling,” you yelled, tears finally spilling over, completely ignoring the part where he told you that he was attacked, because if he didn’t trust you, why would you trust him?

“Well, I can’t help you if you keep making shit up!” He shouted back.

Your chest tightened, breath coming faster now, hands shaking at your sides, “I did not make it up, and the fact that you think I would—that I’d lie about something like this—tells me everything I need to know.”

“So now I’m the bad guy?”

“Yes,” you said immediately, voice loud despite the tears, “you are, because instead of standing next to me, you’re standing here interrogating me like I’m the problem here.”

He stared at you, jaw tight, “you’re unbelievable.”

“No,” you said, stepping back, putting distance between you, “what’s unbelievable is how small you make me feel when I’m already scared. How you’d rather call me insane or schizophrenic than admit you don’t know how to show up for me.”

You swallowed, wiping at your cheeks, voice shaking but resolute. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be with someone who treats me like I’m crazy.”

His eyes widened, scoff leaving his mouth, “you’re breaking up with me? Over this?”

“I’m breaking up with you because you don’t believe me,” you said firmly, “because you don’t listen. Because when I needed you the most, you chose annoyance over empathy, I cannot believe I even fell in love with someone like you.”

With that, you started walking away, chest hurting more with each step you took, ears not picking up the way he screamed behind you. There was no other thought in your mind as you walked ahead, you had no one to go to, no one but Jake. 

Meanwhile, he was showering with a smirk, watching the whole argument unfold on the screen. Soon, he sat down on the couch with just his sweatpants on, hair damp and curling slightly at the ends. The glow from his monitor cast soft light over the living room, muted tones flickering across his face as he leaned back, wet hair clinging to his temples. He looked calm as he rewatched the footage, fingers tapping slowly against his thigh.

“She’s coming,” Jake smiled to himself, “all mine now.”

Downstairs, the front desk guard stood up a little straighter as he saw someone approaching the entrance—someone Jake had told him about in advance. You looked shaken, your eyes rimmed red, your breathing uneven, and your voice just barely held together as you said his name.

“Uh—I’m here to see Jake Sim,” you whispered, so glad he had given you his address.

The guard nodded immediately, not even asking for confirmation. He slid a visitor card across the desk toward you, the one Jake had pre-arranged a day ago, “please take the elevator, penthouse floor.”

Your fingers closed around the pass, your hands cold. The ride up in the elevator was quiet, too quiet. You could hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, your fingers trembling around the card, your throat dry. It was crazy. All of it. But Jake—Jake always made you feel safe, he never judged, he never looked at you like you were broken. Jake sat perfectly still as he heard the ding of the elevator chime through the penthouse hallway. He didn’t even reach for a shirt, simply just waited, elbows resting on his knees, gaze focused ahead, chest rising slowly.

You rang the doorbell, and Jake let you wait for just a few seconds, enough for the anticipation to bloom before opening the door. You stood in the doorway like you’d been hollowed out, shoulders curled inward, tears streaking your cheeks without restraint. Your lips trembled as if you were trying to hold yourself together and failing. You looked small in a way that twisted something deep inside him—so fucking beautiful.

Jake’s heart kicked hard against his ribs. God—there it was. The sight of you like this, undone and honest, coming to him when the world had failed you. He wanted to frame the moment, burn it into his memory forever. This was trust in its rawest form.

“Hey—” he said softly, carefully shaping his face into surprise, concern knitting his brows as he stepped closer, whispering your name, “what happened? Gosh—are you okay?”

Your bottom lip trembled as you stepped forward, and he opened his arms just in time to catch you. You pressed your face into his bare chest like it was instinct, like your body knew where to go before your mind could catch up, you didn’t care about the lack of clothes, you just needed him, exactly how he needed you. 

Jake exhaled shakily, one arm wrapping fully around your back, the other lifting to cradle the back of your head. You were clinging to him—clinging like he was the only thing keeping you upright, and maybe he was. He held you like that, warm skin against your cheek, the soft rhythm of his heartbeat thudding steadily beneath you.

His hand moved in slow circles against your spine, you couldn’t even register how he was sniffing your scent, smirking when you couldn’t see. You came to him, you finally understood who you belong to. You know that Jake is gonna keep you safe, he’s gonna believe in you, love you endlessly while doing so. 

“Breathe,” he whispered, dropping his head to speak into your hair, “I’ve got you. You’re here now, hm? It’s okay, take your time.”

You shuddered in his arms, finally letting go. Your fingers curled into the waistband of his sweatpants, the fabric soft beneath your fists, and he swore it would be embarrassing if you could feel his heartbeat right now. Every part of you was shaking, but Jake was steady, he felt your tears streak down his chest, and still he didn’t move. When your weight sagged slightly, when your knees threatened to give out, he adjusted instinctively, one arm sliding beneath your legs and the other securing your back as he lifted you with a careful ease. 

You barely reacted, curling closer, forehead resting against his shoulder as he carried you toward the sofa. The way you trusted him with your full weight, the way you didn’t question it or pull back, made something deep in his chest tighten with a feeling he didn’t bother trying to name. He lowered himself onto the couch slowly, settling you against him so you were half in his lap, half against the cushions, his arm still wrapped around you like he was afraid you might slip away if he let go, as if he would ever let you go now. 

This was everything he had imagined and more, you coming to him when you had nowhere else to go, choosing him without being asked, trusting him without needing proof. It felt inevitable in a way that made him dizzy. 

“Jake,” you mumbled, heart paining at the thought of him not trusting you, but you had to tell him, “I swear—I’m not lying.”

“Lying about what, my love?” He gave you a small smile as you leaned back to look at him. 

“There was blood—I swear, it was on the mirror, saying i’m alone and no one will save me, I’m not lying!” You said, hiccuping. 

“Shh, calm down, I trust you, yeah? You’re safe here,” he murmured, passing you his usual smile that calmed you down, “wanna talk about it? Do you think it’s paranormal? Or someone did it?” 

You realized how close you were to him, sitting on his lap, hands clutching his shoulders, his embrace giving you the warmth you’d been missing all this while—Jake was perfect. It was almost as if he was godsend to you, right when your life got monotonous, right when your own boyfriend gave up on you, when he was embarrassed. Jake listened to you, he cared enough to ask, to make sure you were okay, and even the gentleness of his voice had your heart beating fast for another reason. 

“I—I don’t know,” you confessed, gulping. Your mind was a mess, especially after how things played out through the day. The blood, the breakup—did you really just wait for the right moment to do it? Because your heart beats for someone else now? 

Jake said your name, bringing you back to the present, “you’re not okay, let me get you some hot chocolate.”

The very idea of him standing up, of that small space between you opening even for a second, made panic flare sharp, your fingers tightening on his shoulders before you realized you were doing it.

“No,” you said quickly, the word slipping out too fast. You shook your head, “don’t go, just—please don’t go, Jake.”

He stopped immediately, his attention snapping fully back to you, and god he wanted to groan so bad, you completely trusted him, “hey,” he said softly, “I’m right here.”

You laughed weakly, “I know, I just—” you pressed your forehead briefly against his, eyes squeezing shut, making it harder for him to keep his composure, hand resting on your nape now as you breathed in together, “I feel like I’m losing it. Like I’m not thinking straight, I keep wondering if I’m reacting this way because I’m scared, or because I’m tired, or because—” you trailed off. 

Because you were sitting in another man’s lap, feeling safer than you had in weeks, and a part of you didn’t want it to stop.

“I shouldn’t feel like this,” you whispered, finally meeting his eyes, “I—It makes me feel insane.”

If only you could see the fireworks in Jake’s heart right now, you’d understand why his breath stuttered for just a fraction of a second, why his hand at your nape went utterly still like even the smallest movement might fracture the moment. Inside him, something detonated slowly and beautifully. 

Jake forced himself to breathe evenly, to keep his face neutral, his thumb pressing lightly into the curve of your neck. Though every instinct in him screamed to pull you closer, to keep you exactly where you were forever, he chose to wait a few more minutes. Insane? Oh no, no. You were finally seeing things clearly. 

“It’s been a long day, and your feelings are valid, love. You’ve been through so much, and your boyfriend didn’t bother being there for you, maybe that’s why you feel this way,” Jake murmured, watching another tear cascading down your cheek, “I won’t force you to say anything, or do anything, hm? Just know you’re safe with me.”

Your eyes were glassy when they lifted to his, lips parted from a trembling breath. Jake’s words sunk somewhere deeper than you meant them to, fuck—he knew exactly what to say, he knew how to be with you, how to make you fall in love with him, the part your ex boyfriend always missed, more now than ever. You didn’t want someone who didn’t trust you, who kept things boring, you wanted someone who’d make you feel loved each day—you wanted Jake. 

You were so tired of being careful, of explaining yourself, of wanting more and pretending you didn’t. Your hands stayed where they were, resting against his bare shoulders, but your body leaned forward before you could stop it, drawn by something reckless, drawn by the beauty of the man right in front of you. What if he didn’t like you? What if he saw you as a friend? You panicked, and before you could slow yourself down, your body reacted on instinct alone.

Leaning forward, you slotted your lips upon his plush ones—letting him taste your tears for just a second, and god—Jake loves it. You’re soft, so fucking perfect, as if your lips were made to be locked with his own. It was barely a kiss. Just the briefest, trembling press of your lips to his, driven not by certainty but by panic, a sudden impulse to chase the feeling he’d been planting inside you all night. It lasted a second, maybe less, and even as your lips touched his, your mind was already pulling away, already scrambling to undo it, already panicking at what you might’ve just broken.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, breathing hard, trying to ignore just how good those few seconds felt, the way you got butterflies you hadn’t felt in a while, “I shouldn’t have—gosh, that wasn’t fair. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Jake didn’t care, he was too dazed with the fact that you belonged to him now, wondering how you didn’t notice his cock hardening beneath you yet. You’d kissed him, oh poor you, thinking it was a mistake when that’s exactly what you were meant to do. You and Jake? It was meant to be, one way or the other. His silence however, made you speak again. 

“I wasn’t trying to use you,” you said next, because that thought had begun to creep in, “It wasn’t that—I swear.”

He didn’t hear the words as much as he watched the way you said them, so breathless, so very apologetic, lips still wet from kissing him, or crying, voice too fragile to carry the weight of what you’d just done. You didn’t even realize it yet—how irreversible that kiss was, how loud it had screamed mine. Jake was going insane, not because you had kissed him, but cause you had the nerve to feel guilty about it. Even if it worked in his favour, he had to do something about it. 

“I know,” he said at last, softly, “I didn’t think you were.” His thumb shifted at your back, the touch meaning to calm you, and the restraint it took nearly made him dizzy. You were sitting right there, pressed against him, trusting him with a vulnerability you didn’t even recognize yet, and he had to keep reminding himself to move carefully to not mess it up, not at this moment. 

“You don’t have to justify it to me,” Jake murmured, gaze lifting to your face again, “If tonight’s too much, if you just needed someone to hold onto for a minute, I don’t mind being that for you, love.” He tilted his head slightly as he spoke, his voice reassuring, as though he were offering you kindness instead of laying a trap you were already stepping into.

“You can use me,” he added gently, planting down his final trick to get you to confess, “I won’t think less of you for it.”

“I’m not using you,” you said too quickly, emotion breaking through the denial, “that’s not what this is. I didn’t—I wouldn’t.”

Perfect, you were so perfect, and admittedly in love with him now. He parted his lips to say something, only to let you continue spreading, simply holding onto you tighter, feeling the softness of your waist from where your top had ridden up. 

“I don’t want to lose you, Jake,” you confess again, breathing hard, “you’re my only safe space now.”

It was rather pathetic how your mind never diverted back to your ex, and Jake loved it, “safe space?”

“I know it sounds stupid when we’ve barely—”

Jake let his smile take over as you rambled, the one where he didn’t mask how obsessed he was, and you just happened to miss it as he grabbed your chin, making you look at him, “you don’t have to explain,” he murmured, eyes locked onto yours, “you already said everything I needed to hear, darling.”

Wait—did that mean that he actually did like you? 

“Jake—”

“You’re mine now, aren’t you?” He smirked, and you should’ve pointed out the sudden shift in the behaviour, but rather, you were happy that maybe, just maybe, your newfound feelings weren’t one sided. 

“I—” you tried to speak, dizzy with the rather insane surge of emotions within you. 

His nose brushed yours, breath mixing with yours, and that closeness, oh that unbearable, perfect closeness, it  made your lips part a little wider. Jake couldn’t hold on anymore, his mouth crashing against yours before you could speak any further, and gosh the act felt hungry, the way he parted your lips with precision, letting you feel just how long he waited for it, the desperation seeping out. Your hands flew up, gripping his bare shoulders, fingernails biting down when his tongue slipped against yours. 

Your hips shifted over his lap, making him groan into your mouth, and you swore you never felt this alive before. It was exactly how you’d imagined kisses to be in the books, and yes—the descriptions always felt real when you experienced anything with this man. Jake’s hands gripped your waist, one of them slid up under your shirt, palm dragging hot up your back, the other was fisted in your hair, keeping your lips pressed to his like he’d go feral if he let you go.

“Been waiting,” Jake mumbled between the kisses, “didn’t feel right cause you were dating someone else,” he lied, making you gasp at the depth of the situation. 

It hadn’t even been a whole hour since you broke up, and here you were, sitting on Jake’s lap and kissing him as if there was no tomorrow. No more lying to yourself about how your relationship was stable when it was falling apart all along, not knowing how Jake took immense pride in being the catalyst to that destruction. 

“You did?” You managed to ask, all breathless and flushed, opening your eyes to see his pink lips, slightly swollen now. 

“Of course, it killed me to see someone as perfect as you being mistreated by someone else,” he breathed out, pecking your lips again, and you leaned closer, “as if I wouldn’t do anything to take your misery away.”

You whimpered into his mouth when his grip on your waist tightened, rocking you forward until your clothed cunt dragged against his hard length straining beneath you. You couldn’t control your voice anymore, especially as his lips traced a slow path across your cheekbone, “did I tell you how fucking beautiful you are?”

You shook your head, already breathless, “no—”

“No?” he whispered, smiling against your skin. His lips brushed the corner of your mouth before dragging down the column of your throat, “then I must be doing something terribly wrong.”

“I thought I was going crazy—thinking about you,” you spoke, caressing his nape. 

“Then I must have been crazier,” he replied, making you smile despite everything that had happened. Nothing felt wrong anymore, absolutely nothing, and when you moaned again, Jake grabbed your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer, “I know a lot has happened, and again—I won’t rush you into anything.”

“No—please,” you almost cried out. Oh just how perfect you were for Jake. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah. Yes, I am, I need it,” you nodded. 

That’s it, he didn’t have to pretend anymore, he could be exactly how he wished to be with you, and he knew you were shaken, but that’s the fun of it, isn’t it? He didn’t waste any time before he picked you up, taking you to his room—which he had cleaned earlier just for you, because he knew for a fact that it was going to be a long night for you both. 

CHAPTER. 𝐗

You barely remember how you made it to his bed, only that the room smelled like him, that the sheets were warm and soft, and that Jake hadn’t stopped touching you once. His veiny hands had been everywhere since the second the bedroom door clicked shut. Gentle, like you were fragile. Greedy, like he’d been starving—and he was, more than you. 

The mattress dipped beneath your back as he hovered over you, the shadows casting soft lines over his bare chest, his hair messy from where your fingers had already pulled through it. You weren’t sure if the pounding in your chest was from nerves or need, but Jake seemed to know exactly what to do with both.

“I’m trying my best to be nice here,” Jake mumbled breath brushing hot over your cheek as he dipped lower, “but you’re making it so hard.”

You didn’t want nice anymore, you wanted to see him unravel and show you exactly what he can offer when he wasn’t giving you his soft smiles and sweet words, so you spoke up again, “don’t be nice, make me forget.” 

He stared at you like you’d offered him his favorite dish on a silver plate—which was indeed true. His body was still, as though he were already deciding how he’d take you, how fucking hard, just how long. How far he could push before you broke in his hands. Jake rose to his feet slowly, eyes dark like a predator waking up after a long sleep, and the second his shadow pulled away from your body, the heat that had cocooned you disappeared too, the sudden absence made you cold.

“You wanna forget, hm? Your old life? Ex?”

You nodded—so easily manipulated at the sight of something you liked, and you liked Jake now. No one tempted you this way before, but he did it without breaking a sweat. And so, he simply decided to indulge more in your interests, or rather, fantasies. 

Then he said it, his voice deeper now, “okay,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly, “so be good, bunny. Go, run.”

You sat up halfway, breathing hard, “what?” 

He couldn’t be into that, right? You wondered if it was yet another coincidence, or something he was going to distract you. It didn’t matter though, the statement making you press your thighs together with need. 

“You’ve been scared, haven’t you? Let me turn that into something you’ll enjoy,” he says, giving you a lazy smirk, slowly circling the bed, “the only threat here is me.” He paused at the foot of the bed, arms crossed now, there was a wicked smirk curving his lips, one that didn’t match the softness he’d shown you earlier. 

Your breath caught at the base of your throat. You knew it wasn’t real— Jake wouldn’t hurt you, that this was a game he was inviting you into, but it didn’t stop your skin from flushing hot. The shadows in his penthouse stretched long across the floor, windows black against the night sky, and somewhere between the city lights and the weight of his voice, something in you snapped.

You stood slowly, heart racing, still unsure if you were playing along or already giving in, cause god you wanted to. He simply watched you move, biting his lip at how effortlessly beautiful you seemed even when you were scared—when you were turned on. 

His voice was soft, but his gaze? That stayed wild, “go on, baby. You want me to take it from you, don’t you?”

You swallowed thickly, nodding once before you turned. You turned, pulse roaring in your ears, bare feet hitting the polished floor as you moved away from the bed and into the open stretch of his penthouse. The space felt enormous now, all glass and shadow and city lights glittering beyond the windows, every surface reflecting just enough to remind you that there was nowhere to really hide, especially in a space you weren’t familiar with. You weren’t scared in the way fear clenches your chest and steals your breath, this was threaded with want, the kind that made your thighs press together as you ran.

Behind you, you heard him move, just the steady, unhurried pace of someone who knew exactly how this would end. The sound alone sent a shiver down your spine. You cut toward the kitchen, breath coming faster, fingers brushing the edge of the counter as you tried to steady yourself, your body already buzzing with anticipation, however, you didn’t make it far.

His hand closed around your wrist and he pulled you back into him, your back meeting his chest as he guided you effortlessly against the cool stone of the kitchen island. The juxtaposition made you gasp, the chill of the marble against your thighs and the heat of his body pressing into you stealing the air from your lungs at the same time. Jake’s mouth found the curve beneath your ear, his breath hot.

“See?” he murmured, gripping you tight, “you can’t hide from me.”

You squirmed in his grip, not to get away, never to get away—but because the tension coiling through your body needed somewhere to go. Jake felt it instantly, one of his hands sliding between your thighs and pressing, just enough to make your breath hitch, just enough to let you know exactly how this was going to go.

“Already soaked,” he groaned, the heel of his palm rocking against your clothed cunt, “you liked running—liked knowing I was gonna chase you.”

You whined, your hands flattening on the counter to keep you steady, back arching into him instinctively. He hummed in satisfaction, like he’d been waiting for that reaction, like he knew every inch of your body was tuned to him now.

“You wanna play?” He asked, lips brushing your jaw now, teeth grazing your pulse, “then you take what’s coming, bunny.”

His hand moved, unbuttoning the jeans, holding you up to drag it down, groaning at the sight of your legs he so desperately loved—fucking perfect. He dropped to his knees behind you before you could process the shift, large hands gripping your thighs to drag you right to the edge of the island. His shoulder nudged your legs farther apart, breath brushing warm over the thin fabric stretched between your thighs, and then his mouth was on you. 

The first drag of his tongue over your soaked panties made you jump, but he held you firm, tongue tracing a path up your slit before pressing against your clit with need. He mouthed at you through the fabric, tongue flattening and lips sucking just enough to make you cry out, your hands flying back to dig into his hair.

“Fuck, Jake—” your voice broke on his name, as if you were high at the sensation you’d never truly felt before, gosh—you didn’t even know you could feel this good with just his tongue. 

He almost growled, the sound vibrating against you, and then you felt your panties being tugged aside as he dove in properly, tongue hot and filthy against your bare cunt. His lips sealed around your clit, sucking hard enough to make you cry out loud, not stopping as he went on like a madman, finally getting a taste of what he’d been imagining all this while, your fingers gripping his hair tighter with every stroke of his tongue.

Jake groaned again, “so fucking perfect, you taste so good—fuck, bet no one’s tasted you like this before, bunny,” the sound muffled against your soaked pussy, and the way he moaned—like he needed this, like your taste was better than anything he’d ever touched—made your stomach flip with heat. He was insatiable, lost in it, nose nudging against your clit as his tongue licked through your folds again and again. There was no grace to it anymore, absolutely no restraint. He devoured you like a man who had waited far too long for something he was never supposed to have. 

“Fuck—you’re crazy,” you moaned out, but he was right about it, and Jake was good at what he did because your body could barely remember much, you couldn’t think straight, not when he was being such a good munch for you. 

“Not crazy enough,” Jake licked up, pressing a harsh kiss on your clit, sucking it in with need. He had never felt hunger like this before—not even in his loneliest, most desperate nights, not even in the quiet moments when he imagined what it would be like to finally touch you like this. It was you, your sounds, your taste, your trembling thighs braced around his head, and Jake—Jake was starved for every single part of it.

Every moan from you made his cock twitch, already rock-hard in his pants, already aching to be inside—but he wasn’t rushing. No, not yet. He was drunk off you, off the fact that you were squirming for him. 

“Jake, Jake—oh my god, I can’t—” your voice broke, your legs trembling, but Jake just groaned deeper, his arms wrapping around your thighs now to keep you steady. 

He pulled back just enough to breathe, chin wet, eyes dark and locked onto the slick mess between your legs. His voice was hoarse, “you have no fucking idea,” he panted, chest heaving as he looked up at you, “no idea how long—” he stopped himself before he could expose his true thoughts, watching how you were so close, looking down at him with heart eyes, tears threatening to fall down. 

“Last chance, bunny. Run while you still can, because I won’t let go again,” Jake warned, and he meant it, cause now that he knows how fucking perfect you taste, it’ll be impossible for you to escape, but he liked the thrill, even if it was a game to you. 

It was drizzling outside, the voice barely calming down your racing heart as Jake sat on his knees, as if he’d fully surrendered himself to your being, looking at you like the world had narrowed down to this exact moment, to the way your chest rose and fell too fast, to the way your lips trembled as you stared back at him with wide, overwhelmed eyes. His hands loosened their grip on your thighs just enough to make the threat of collapse very real, and you gasped softly, instinctively shifting your weight as your legs wobbled beneath you.

He smirked, tongue out before he bit his lip, “gonna run from me now, hm?” 

Your body reacted to it, faster than your mind could process, turning around and getting away, making sure to not hurt Jake in the process, making him chuckle, “such a doll,” he muttered to himself, staying right there, hearing your footsteps going around his place—a dream come true for him, “all mine, can’t escape anymore.”

You barely made it around the corner of the kitchen, your legs still trembling from the way he’d pulled you apart with just his mouth. Your thighs sticky with slick, your shirt clinging to your back with sweat, jeans long forgotten, and your brain buzzed with the heat of it all—his voice still in your ears. 

Reaching the balcony, you didn’t think twice before rushing inside, crashing through them with a gasp, bare feet slapping wet against the stone. The drizzle kissed your skin instantly, soaking your body in seconds. It was soft, enough to cling to your lashes and dampen your clothes and make the warm air feel gentle. 

Far away, in the kitchen, your phone rang with the calls of your ex, but you didn’t care anymore. Maybe it was the selfishness taking over, the insane power you felt when you were living something you’d wanted to experience—the feeling of having the same interests, and maybe, the kind of love that won’t come with the expiration date of the honeymoon phase. 

You stumbled out to the edge, palms flat against the glass railing, panting like you could outrun what he’d done to you, but you couldn’t because he was already there. The heat of his body pressed into your back a second before his arms did—one winding tight around your waist, the other sliding up to cradle your jaw as he pulled you away from the railing and right back into him. His palm flattened over your stomach, his chest bare and slick against your soaked shirt, his lips already on your neck.

“You didn’t even make it a minute, baby,” Jake whispered, breathing hot against the curve of your jaw, even as the drizzle fell cool around you, “didn’t wanna run? Not scared anymore?”

You just stared at the man from the side, his warmth juxtaposing the cold, absolutely making you forget about everything else, as if he was here just to take control of your mind and being. All you could feel and register was the hard line of his cock pressing into your ass, the strength of his arms, the desperation in the way his lips pressed against your skin.

“That’s my good girl,” he whispered, as you sighed with pleasure, fingers curling weakly against the cool glass railing as his mouth lingered just below your ear. Every word he spoke vibrated through you. 

“Your good girl,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely audible. 

And gosh, that was all it took. Jake’s mouth captured yours in a kiss that stole what little air you had left within you. It felt so deep and consuming, lips moving against yours that made your knees feel weak. His hand slid from your jaw to the back of your neck, holding you there, fully taking control now. You were purely, utterly, wholly his, and you loved every bit of it. 

“Come here,” he whispered, voice thick, his lips brushing yours one last time before he guided you gently away from the railing.

He led you a few steps to where the balcony jutted in slightly, a narrow overhang offering shelter from the drizzle. The rain didnt reach you there, turning into a quiet mist around you. Jake lowered himself down on the singular chair first, then tugged you into his lap without asking, your legs automatically falling to either side of his hips.

You gasped as your soaked panties dragged against him, the heat between you making you go crazy. Jake’s hands slid to your hips, steadying you as your body rocked forward, chasing the exact pressure you needed.

“Easy, darling,” he breathed, his thumbs digging in as he guided your movement instead, “yeah, just like that.”

You rolled your hips again, feeling the way he reacted beneath you, the way his breath hitched and his grip tightened. The sensation built with every movement of yours, your forehead dropping to his shoulder as the rain continued to fall just beyond your shelter. Jake kissed the side of your head as his hips moved to meet yours, the two of you locked together in a rhythm that felt inevitable now. 

“Jake—”

“Yeah? That’s not loud enough, bunny,” he chuckled.

“But—fuck! We’re outside!” You cried out, voice louder, making him chuckle. 

“That’s the point,” he murmured into your neck, “let them hear. Let the whole fucking city know how sweet you sound when you’re grinding on me, yeah? Let your ex hear your pretty fucking voice.”

Your head fell back at that, mouth open as you let out a moan you couldn’t hold in. The wet friction, the heat of his body under yours, the way his voice dropped into something very possessive every time you whined—it all blurred together perfectly, making your thighs tremble.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” Jake groaned, one hand sliding from your hip down to press the soaked fabric of your panties tighter against your pussy. “You’re fucking dripping for me, bunny, and I haven’t even taken you inside yet.”

“You’re crazy,” you repeated, giving him a smile showing how you felt just as insane as he did, two people made for each other. 

“You love it,” he mumbled, thumb rubbing your clit in slow circles now, “you need this, don’t you? That excitement, something other than vanilla fucking,” he scoffed. 

You didn’t bother questioning how he knew about your past sexual experiences, simply because you felt ecstatic in the moment. You were so sensitive it was almost painful, your thighs twitching with every lazy rub, your hips jerking forward to meet it like you were chasing the high without thinking.

“I said,” he leaned in, “you need this, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you breathed, nodding. 

He pulled back, just enough to see your face clearly, his thumb still moving in those perfect circles. His sweatpants were soaked, his cock rock hard beneath you, and yet his patience was infuriating—perfectly cruel to you. 

You rocked into his hand, chasing the rhythm, grinding faster, harder, your body already right there on the edge. So close it hurt, “Jake—Jake, I’m—please—”

“Not yet, baby.”

You whined, and Jake loved it. As much as he wanted to see you make a mess and feel that pleasure because of him—he just wished to drag it more, even if it was hard for him to control his own fucking cock, he couldn’t let you cum just like this, he needed to fuck you so hard your body would forget any other person who touched you before him. 

“I said not yet,” he repeated, voice firmer now, “you don’t get to cum until I say so.”

A tear slipped down your cheek at the overstimulation, the aching buildup that never ended. Your clit was throbbing, twitching under his fingers, and you didn’t know whether to push into it or listen to him. You could feel yourself dripping down your thighs, soaking his palm, and still—he didn’t stop.

He tilted his head and caught the tear with his tongue, groaning softly, “fuck. You taste like sin.” His hand left your pussy, only to slap your clit once, making you scream and jerk forward. 

“Jake!” you gasped, breath hitching, heat spiraling again in your belly.

“You’re crying already?” He grinned, eyes heavy-lidded with lust, “god, that’s so pretty, baby. Look at you—fuckin’ perfect when you’re desperate.”

“I need you,” you sobbed, your voice airy and hoarse now, all fucked-out, “please, please, please—need you inside, wanna cum on your cock, please—”

“You’re really crying for cock now?” He clicked his tongue, “that needy for me already, baby?”

You nodded, your body burning up, your panties long ruined, your thighs sticky, clit still throbbing from the slap, “wanna be full,” you whispered, “wanna cum with you inside.”

Jake’s expression turned feral. Oh he was so in love with you, his cock twitching against the fabric of his sweats. Without another word, he picked you up with ease, his muscles flexing as you stared at his perfectly sculpted face, wet and messy hair—his grip firm on your body. 

The bedroom door slammed behind you and barely had time to bounce back open before he shoved you onto the mattress, your back hitting the sheets as you gasped. Jake was on you in the next second, climbing over your trembling form, his hands everywhere—pushing your shirt up, tugging your bra down roughly, yanking your panties off your thighs, he couldn’t stand the thought of fabric between you anymore.

“You were begging for this, weren’t you?” He muttered, freeing his cock from the sweatpants, your eyes widening at the length, and just how hard he was as he started dragging his cock through your folds, notching the swollen head against your soaked entrance. 

Every night he’d lay awake thinking about this, imagining how it might feel to finally be inside you, how your pussy would squeeze him tight, how your moans would sound when he broke you apart with slow, deep thrusts. He’d imagined the tears, the trembling, the ruined beauty of you coming undone just for him. But nothing could have prepared him for the reality. You looked so perfect like this. Messy, wild, glassy-eyed with need, your lips parted in a silent plea, your thighs quivering where they bracketed his hips. 

Pressing his lips upon yours, he thrusted in, swallowing every single moan and scream that you let out, tongue tracing your own as he bottomed out, the squeeze making him groan loud out. Your back arched, your hands flying up to clutch at his arms, nails sinking into his biceps as the thick head of his cock practically breached you.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, voice shaking, one hand gripping your waist. 

You whimpered, legs wrapping around his waist instinctively, your heels digging into the backs of his thighs as you tried to pull him deeper. But he wasn’t ready to rush. He needed to feel all of it—the way your pussy fluttered around him as your body struggled to take him in fully.

Jake leaned back just enough to see your face, and the sight nearly undid him. You were crying again, but not from pain, rather from being so full, so overwhelmed. Tears streaked down your cheeks, your lips trembling, your whole expression soft and broken and desperate for more.

He wiped one tear away with the back of his thumb, then kissed it away from the corner of your eye, “that’s it,” he murmured, thrusting deeper until he was fully seated inside you, cock buried to the hilt, “take all of me. You can do it, baby. You’re doing so good, just forget about everything else, yeah? Nothing else, just me.”

Another tear cascaded down your cheek, and he licked it up, thrusting in hard enough to make you gasp, fingers grabbing your chin open, your eyes rolling back with how he licked your mouth, before spitting into it, watching you gulp it down for him—oh fucking perfect, he didn’t even have to tell you shit, you were made for him, “fucking hell—good girl.”

You could barely nod, but it was enough. Your cunt clenched again around him, soaked and swollen and fluttering as he pulled halfway out just to slam back in, your body jolting from the force, another sob slipping past your lips.

“Yeah, you like that,” he muttered, leaning down, pressing a filthy kiss to your cheek as his hips snapped forward again, harder, “you like being fucked dumb. My sweet, dumb baby, can’t even think with my cock inside you.”

Jake felt your legs shake around him, your pussy clenching so tight it dragged another moan from his throat. You were getting close again, he could feel it—the way you trembled, the way your fingers scrambled for anything to hold—his shoulders, the sheets, the back of his neck—told him everything.

“Don’t fight it,” he groaned, fucking into you with messier thrusts now, each one hitting so deep you swore you could feel all over your body, “you wanna cum, don’t you? Wanna cum with my cock so deep you forget your fucking name?”

You nodded again, tears slipping down your cheeks freely now, lips parted around tiny gasps as your back arched and your body started to seize, “please Jake—gonna—” you choked out, barely able to breathe, “need it, I—fuck—I need it—”

“Cum for me,” he chuckled, his thumb rubbing circles over your clit now, “make a mess. Fucking drip for me, little bunny.”

And that was enough for you to feel that unadulterated pleasure, your scream broke in your throat, nothing but a cry of pure release as your orgasm hit you like nothing before, your vision white, your body locking up beneath him as you squirted, your slick splashing wet against his stomach, soaking the sheets, your cunt still spasming wildly around him.

“Fuck—oh fuck yes,” Jake snarled, watching the mess coat him, cock still driving through it, “you’re leaking—baby, fuck—you’re so messy. All for me. All this cause of my cock?”

You nodded through the tears, unable to speak. He grabbed your legs, yanked them up over his shoulders again and folded you in half, pounding into you with brutal thrusts now. The angle was insane, his balls slapping against your ass, your pussy so wet it sounded obscene every time he slammed in.

“Gonna cum in you, yeah?” He panted, his voice going more desperate now, “you’re gonna hold it, you hear me? Gonna keep every drop inside. I don’t care if it spills—I’ll stuff it back in.”

You wailed under him, your body beyond spent now, your mind blank with overstimulation, your pussy fluttering around him like it still wasn’t done, and god Jake wanted to say it loud out, how he was so in love with how you smiled, how you giggled when he kissed you despite being so fucking gone, you reacted to him just how he wanted you to.

Jake leaned down, biting your neck as he buried himself one last time, hips jerking as he came hard, so fucking hard—spilling deep inside you, cock pulsing as your body sucked it all in, your walls milking him. He stayed there, still twitching inside as he looked into your eyes, watching his own reflection inside as your whimper reverberated the room. 

“I fucking lo—” he stopped himself, “fuck, you’re perfect, so pretty,” he said instead, finally moving enough to pull back and see the mess, he groaned at the sight—his cum already leaking out of your swollen cunt, dripping down onto the sheets, your thighs slick with it. He didn’t even reach for a towel, pushing his cum back in with two fingers, smearing it up against your walls again, watching your hips jerk.

“Not wasting a fucking drop,” he whispered, kissing your damp cheek again, “you’re mine, yeah? All this is mine, fucking mine, mine.” He kept on repeating it and you—being so fucked in the head, thought it was the hottest fucking sight ever. A man absolutely gone into depths of desperation for you? You wanted that for life. 

You were still trying to catch your breath when he spoke up, eyes still trying to memorize all of you, kissing your knuckles, “i’m sorry I lost control.”

He sat up slightly, adjusting the blanket over you, like you weren’t already covered with his marks and love. His hand stayed on your stomach, not having it in him to stop touching you when you chased that high yourself. When you smiled, shaking your head, he swore he fell deeper into whatever twisted obsession he harboured towards you. 

“Stay,” he breathed out, looking dead serious, “don’t go anywhere, just stay with me, hm? I know it’s early but I can’t let you go back there.” 

“But how can I just live here? It’s not easy—”

“It doesn’t have to be hard, y’know? Especially if that place is haunted, you should let it go,” he mumbled, pressing his forehead against yours, cause god he couldn’t bear any distance anymore, he wanted to lock you inside with him and never leave, just you and him being together forever, “I’ll help you move in your stuff, I know it’ll be hard for you to go there alone, there’s enough space for you to have your own room too,” Jake said, absolutely hating the fact of you being in a different room, but he had to say it. 

“I—I don’t know, Jake, it’s a lot to ask for,” you mumbled, and he instantly made you smile by pressing a soft kiss on your lips. 

“Y/N,” he whispered against you, sending a shiver up your spine, “It’s not a lot, it wasn’t just sex for me—I like you,” he confessed as if he wasn’t in love with you, eyes full of sparkles, looking at you with hope in his eyes. 

“You do?” You asked, breathing harder. 

He nodded, “I do. I like you in every way possible, even sitting beside you without speaking makes me feel happy, I know it was wrong for me to like you when you had a boyfriend, but some feelings can’t be controlled.”

You didn’t answer right away, but your heartbeat was fast again as you stared at him, “Jake,” you whispered, voice barely holding together, “what if this ruins things? What if I regret it?”

Regret? Oh Jake wanted to scoff right there. What would you even regret? Living like a princess with him, getting everything you want, getting Jake’s undivided love and attention. You’d be crazy to think that there’s anything to regret. 

He had to maintain his calm, “hey, I just know you won’t regret staying somewhere you feel safe, with someone who actually wants you around.”

You genuinely wanted to believe him. The sudden noise of lightning made you gasp as the rain only grew stronger, making you hug Jake—the way your body was so comfortable with him was answer enough. He only hugged you tighter, taking in your scent yet again, pupils dilated with how much his emotions were in tune with the moment. 

“You don’t have to be scared right now,” he murmured into your hair, “you’re here with me.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, rainlight flashing softly through the room, and for the first time the thought of staying didn’t feel complicated, “can I really stay?” you asked, almost shy now.

He nodded immediately, brushing his thumb along your cheek, as if it was a joke, you’re meant to stay here, now and forever, “yeah, my love,” he said, “as long as you want.”

He kissed the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then your jaw, making you squirm and laugh quietly, trying to hide your face, “Jake,” you whined, giggling.

“What?” He said innocently, brushing his nose against your neck, absolutely thrilled and shaking from the inside at the thought of you being here each day, “can’t kiss my girl?”

“You’re so annoying,” you mumbled, even as your arms wrapped tighter around his neck.

“Annoying?” He laughed, and you loved the sound of it, so easily manipulated into loving things you weren’t familiar with, already shifting his hands to the back of your thighs, “say that again after I carry your cold, shivering little self into a hot bath.”

Jake gives you that feeling—he makes you feel like you belong with him, like you matter, and most importantly, he trusts you so deeply that not even your closest ones did. And that’s what makes it so perfect, how you took the most obvious step into Jake’s trap, making him chuckle with how you were naive and you needed him. 

And as he held you tighter, carrying you straight into the life he built around you, Jake smiled—because you thought this was love, and not once did it occur to you that it was a cage.

CHAPTER. 𝐗𝐈

Maybe you did like your cage a lot, granted you were happier than ever living with Jake—who was your boyfriend now. Yes, it was rushed, but you know what they say about when it feels right, it’s right. He’d been sweet enough to accompany you when you moved your belongings into his penthouse, heck, he didn’t let you lift a finger as he carried everything inside. 

And you were ecstatic to see him absolutely glowing through it all—his sleeves rolled up, jaw tense with focus, smiling every time you caught his eye like he couldn’t believe you were really here. He’d kissed your temple after setting down your last box, whispered something like “finally,” and you’d laughed, brushing it off like he was just being silly as usual. You didn’t think too hard about it. You didn’t think too hard about a lot of things anymore.

The place was beautiful—wide windows, warm floors, shelves already cleared for your books, space in the closet that he’d emptied before even asking what you were bringing. Everything was ready for you, as if he’d known the answer long before you gave it. And Jake, well—Jake was perfect.

He made breakfast before you woke up, kissed your shoulder while the kettle boiled, offered you his hoodie on nights you didn’t even say you were cold. He never asked where you were going or who you were texting, he didn’t have to when he knew everything. 

The only thing you were curious about was that one room he kept locked, not even allowing you inside, and you didn’t think much about it, simply choosing to respect his privacy. If not, he’d pull you into a deep kiss, leading to the things you’d grown to enjoy a lot. Your life felt colourful again, not bland anymore. 

Jake was clingy, not having it in him to let you out of his sight if it weren’t for your lectures, maybe that obsession of his made you feel more important, and happy, cause you didn’t mind it one bit. Your ex had stopped contacting you, and even your family supported you through the breakup, minus the fact that they weren’t sure about you moving in with a new man so soon. 

He was patient with you, learning new things about you each day—acting surprised even if he knew about it beforehand. Jake didn’t know how to word it, he couldn’t control his emotions, as if they had heightened tenfold with your presence. At times, he simply wanted to pin you down and bury his face in your neck, your scent calming him down, or rather, making him go even deeper into the spiral, and you mistook it for the onset of love for Jake, especially when he stared at you with his puppy-like eyes. 

So, you got home early, expecting Jake to be home, but he wasn’t. He had crossed boundaries long back, but watching your ex text you got him pissed, he stared at the screen, biting his nails. And that was the first time he acted so recklessly without a plan, knowing you won’t be home, he didn’t bother locking that door. 

That was a mistake that changed everything as you stood inside the room, shaking with fear, or something worse that you couldn’t pinpoint—Jake wasn’t just in love with you, he was severely obsessed. Your pictures were scattered all around, some taped to the wall, others stacked on the desk in messy piles. Not just the ones you’d posted online, there was more—pics of you sleeping, brushing your hair in your old bedroom.

Your hands shook as you reached for one photo, a blurry shot of you crying in front of your ex from the day you broke up. There were other things too—little items he’d kept, including the lipgloss you’d lost a few months back. 

Meanwhile Jake’s face was splattered with blood, it wasn’t his, but of the guy who was trying his best to get you back. Jake had been too nice, way too nice, “she’s mine,” he muttered, hands shaking with a sinister smile on his face, “don’t come closer, yeah? Not that you can anymore.” His laugh boomed through the empty space, your ex on the floor begging for his life. 

This was too much—you tried your best to wipe your tears, knowing Jake might be back anytime soon, and you wouldn’t know how to react around him anymore. You knew what you saw wasn’t right, you knew the things he’d done weren’t justifiable, not even close, but for some reason your fear didn’t look like running—it just confused you further, you feel this weird guilt within you, like you weren’t sure if it was more terrifying to be wanted this much, or to want someone back despite everything.

The front door opened right that second and you flinched at the noise, mouth going dry at the sight of Jake covered in blood, him stopping in his tracks at your presence, eyes travelling up to see his room door wide open. 

His jaw tightened, feeling something closer to relief mixed but also disbelief, like the worst thing that could’ve happened had already happened and somehow you were still here. When he finally looked back at you, his expression changed entirely. Whatever mask he usually wore around you cracked completely, his breath hitching as he started laughing, like he didn’t know what else to do with the insanity within him. He started walking towards you, blood still drying on his hands, on his clothes. 

“You saw it, baby,” he murmured, voice still full of love. 

You nodded, tears blurring your vision again, and for a split second you thought he might pull away, might rethink everything. Instead, he reached for you and pulled you into him hard, arms locking around your shoulders, shaking as he laughed again into your hair, the sound breaking halfway, but of course, he was overjoyed that you didn’t run away, that you stayed and waited for him to come back. 

You cried against his chest and hugged him back without thinking twice, because even now your body reacted to him before your head could catch up. You knew this wasn’t normal, you knew nothing about this should’ve felt okay, but standing there with him holding you like he’d just barely kept you from slipping away, all you could feel was how badly he needed you.

And the worst part was knowing that he’d crossed every line imaginable, and still, somehow, you weren’t thinking about leaving.

You were thinking about how to stay, and how you probably won’t be able to leave. 

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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[jaeyun-ie]

[k1kii2]

Imagine having a threesome with Bangchan and Jake and hearing them moan with an australian accent while they pound you at the same time 🤤

[twinkhole-destroyer]

“nobody wants to work anymore” yeah because everyone wants to kill themselves

[lilawritesangst]

As much as I enjoy a ship focused fanfic, can we please appreciate the plot driven fics. Seriously. I’ve read some of the most passionate, beautiful fics purely made for the plot and they need more credit form the fanfic community <3

[y-wonandonly]

ima lose it if i ever hear even ONE person sing that cursed fanchant (we all know which one i am talking about). i will start clown-ifying those bitches because y’all are becoming apart of beshit’s circus act.

welcome to the fucking carnival i guess.