3 Times Jake Lockley Tried to Kill You and 1 Time He Saved Your Life
Part 2 of 4: Gun
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Pairing: Jake Lockley x f!reader
Summary: Jake creates a second chance to get the job done
Or: Will you get a new toy to play with?
Word Count: 1.8k
Content: Read all series warnings on the miniseries masterlist! nsfw, mdni, more below the cut
Part 2: Power imbalance, kidnapping, violence, language, stalking, very extremely dirty gun play, danger, masturbation, not beta'd
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ
A week passed before you left your penthouse.
Jake’s boss was not a patient man, but Jake convinced him that you were unreachable for a few days, and that he was on it. He sent new surveillance pictures to calm the man down, assuring him he would take care of the problem.
He wanted to wait longer. You were hurt, after all. No way you’d completely recovered from a stab wound, but you seemed determined to get back to your life. Of course, why did he care if you were fully recovered or still hurting if he was only looking for another opportunity to kill you?
Unfortunately, your inept bodyguards Dumb and Dumber added a third. So…Dumb and Dumber and Dumbest?
He only made things worse for himself for letting you live, but you got under his skin, plain and simple.
Another week passed before he could get you alone again, and it took practically 24/7 stalking to find his moment.
So…he had definitely descended into creep behavior.
Time to get this over with.
He found you in the park again, walking instead of jogging this time. Maybe your side still hurt.
The Dummies lingered close by, but Jake could handle a challenge.
He walked right by you with a nonchalant stroll, and pushed a gun into your (not wounded) side, ushering you into his car before your idiot bodyguards could react.
Despite your fantasies about this man over the past two weeks, terror flooded your body as he steered with one hand and held you at gunpoint with his other.
His clean shaven face momentarily distracted you - perhaps his first intelligent decision. He should at least try to hide from your father, and even a slight alteration to his appearance could prove helpful. His strong, sharp jawline and pliable lips made him seem simultaneously more approachable and somehow deadlier.
“Got your present,” he smoothly intoned. The corner of his mouth curled. “Brought you a new one to play with.”
“Okay. Okay,” you gasped, holding out your hands defensively. “If you’re trying to scare me, it’s working, all right? Just…do what you’re gonna do. You're scaring the shit out of me.”
Jake tutted, but kept his eyes on the road. “You really have a death wish, don’t you, Princesa?”
“Don’t call me that,” you spat. “My father calls me that. His princess.”
Probably not a great idea to bring up your father to the man who wanted revenge against him.
Jake held his tongue, driving in silence for another few minutes. Finally he pulled the car into a parking garage and drove down the bottom level, below street level, before turning off the engine and looking over at you.
“How are you feeling?” He asked you with a certain tenderness in his coffee colored eyes, as if he actually might care.
“What? Why the fuck do you care how I’m feeling?” You snapped. “You have a gun in my face and you stabbed me. I feel like shit. Like - terrified, impatient shit, thank you very much.”
“There it is,” he appreciatively chuckled. “I didn’t think one little stab wound would turn you into a damsel.”
“You’re a fucking idiot,” you clapped back, feigning courage. “Shooting someone is a hard crime to cover up. But I’m sure you know that because you look like the kind of asshole who does my father’s dirty work. You really want me splattered all over the inside of this piece of shit you call a car?”
Jake shoved the barrel of his gun right between your eyes. “You’re calling my car a piece of shit? That’s reason enough to pull the trigger, muñeca. We don’t all have daddy’s blood money to buy us toys.”
Despite your feistiness, a loaded gun between your eyes did give you pause. Your lips trembled as Jake dragged the gun down your nose to your mouth.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, tracing the fullness of your parted, panting lips with his weapon. “Shame I have to kill you.”
If someone paid you a billion dollars, you would never be able to puzzle out why you did it: but your tongue darted out to lick the barrel of his gun.
Jake locked eyes with you as you swirled your tongue around the cool metal. “You know how to use one of these, baby?” He purred, pushing the gun into your mouth.
You nodded slightly, body trembling as you wrapped your lips around the barrel, accepting it all the way to the back of your throat until you gagged.
Jake groaned, easing the gun back toward your lips, almost completely removing it from your mouth before fucking it back into your wet, waiting cavern. You started to bob your head, sucking the weapon like a cock, eyes locked on his as he shoved it over and over again…
…to the back of your throat, gagging you, to the front of your lips until drool spilled out the corners of your mouth.
“Good girl,” he rasped, finally removing the offending metal from you completely.
Your lust-soaked panties didn’t prevent you from collapsing in a small measure of relief after your wild but dangerous display. He could have blown your head off, even by accident, and still probably intended to.
“You didn’t answer me,” he chided, using the gun’s barrel to lift your chin back up, forcing you to look at him. “I can see you know how to use that pretty mouth, but do you know how to use this?”
Shaking your head quickly, you wanted to scream as he condescendingly chuckled. “Of course not. You are a princess. Here.” Shoving the thing into your trembling fingers, he made sure to turn on the safety. He reached for your opposite hand, correctly positioning your grip in his gloved hands.
“Two hands, like this,” he instructed. “No action movie bullshit.”
His eyebrows shot up, waiting for you to respond. You slowly nodded.
“It’s loaded, but - " Positioning your finger by the safety, he showed you how to use it correctly. “Safety first. Don’t ever take the safety off unless you have a plan to get rid of a body.”
“Why?” You gasped, your hands dipping under the weight of the weapon as he finally removed his own. “How do you know I won’t shoot you?”
And he smiled. “I don’t.”
“I will,” you huffed, shoving the gun into his chest. “I’ll do it.”
Jake wet his lips, his eyes darkening as he cocked his head to the side. “Take it. You need a new toy to play with tonight, when you’re thinking about me.”
“You asshole - "
“You started this,” he lowly growled, “by sending me that knife instead of giving it to daddy.” His voice dropped an octave as he leaned in, his breath ghosting your lips. “I bet you shove this gun in your pussy the way you let me shove it into your mouth,” he taunted, slowly reaching up to put his hand over yours before pushing the gun down between your legs.
You whimpered, thinking this was it. He was about to shoot you right now.
“Safety’s on, baby,” he leaned in and breathed on your ear, pushing the gun lower until it rested over your panties.
“You’re wet right now, aren’t you?” He taunted, slowly rubbing the gun back and forth.
“Dammit, I knew you were a pervert,” you whispered, unable to muster a convincing amount of guile.
Jake immediately removed his hands, holding them up as if surrendering. “I’m never going to touch you like that until you ask me to.”
“I’ll fucking kill you first,” You growled, shoving the gun back into his chest.
He easily disarmed you, pointing the gun right at your head. “Get out.”
Shit. Shit, this was it. “I-if those are my last words, I can do better.”
He actually laughed. “Get the fuck out.”
He waited until you opened the car door before deftly removing the magazine and tossing the pieces out behind you. “Keep it. Someone’s trying to kill you.”
Reaching over to close the door, he peeled out of the parking garage, leaving you there alone. And armed. Sort of.
“Asshole!” You screamed after him.
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ
You dreaded your bodyguards questioning where you went and why you suddenly had possession of a weapon. But when they finally got your call, you decided to turn the tables, letting them know that if your father found out you were missing today, on their watch, he would use the gun in your hand to put holes in the backs of their heads.
They left you alone.
You were reeling by the time you got back to your penthouse, but inevitably, nighttime came.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” The smooth velvet of his voice echoed in your head. “Good girl…I bet you shove it in your pussy…”
You weren’t about to shove a loaded gun anywhere in your body, so you left the magazine out and took off all your clothes, sliding under the sheets.
“Take it. You need a new toy to play with tonight, when you’re thinking about me..”
You dragged the barrel of the gun across your hard nipples, just the way you played with the knife. The simple memory of his voice had you soaked already.
“I fucking hate you,” you whispered into the dark, somehow wishing he could hear you as you plunged the gun’s barrel into your dripping cunt.
“Oh fuck…” The metal wasn’t as forgiving as one of your toys, but your pussy clenched and quivered just the same, knowing he predicted you would fuck yourself with his weapon - that he hoped you would.
With two fingers, you circled your clit, wishing you could pant his name as you writhed and fucked down harder, but…
you still didn’t know him.
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ
Jake waited a few days, wondering if you’d send the gun back to him, covered in your juices, but maybe you’d wised up. If you had any sense at all, you’d give it to the police, but he was certain you wouldn’t.
His employer was growing impatient.
And even Jake didn’t understand why he was dragging his feet...except that seeing you sent a thrill jolting through him he couldn't understand.
But time to get this shit done or it would be him at the bottom of the river. The fire in your voice as you snapped back at him like a wounded animal...the memory of the rise and fall of your breasts as you pretended not be afraid of him - the misplaced desire in you to be brave, even though no one in your life cared enough to teach you basic self-defense or how to handle a firearm... You were not the victim here. Your family made victims. He couldn't be your savior.
It was you or him.
So no more games.
next
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ
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