The awakening is always rude. You find yourself crying loudly, sobs making your chest heave, vision blurring as you crouch down on the floor, the weight of reality making you utterly weak. Your life never existed, only a product of the matrix. You lived your whole life as a battery for sentient machines. 

But Zion, the real humanity showed you things you never believed that could be real. Starting off with humanity, as ironic as it seems. Your teammates aren’t looking at you like you’re some type of circus attraction, they aren’t trying to film you, or trying to profit with your suffering, economically or socially. They are just there with you, empathetic gazes comforting you during this ritual they all passed through. 

— Shhh, I know darling… — There’s this smooth, deep voice in the back of your mind that slowly brings you down to reality. A pair of soft, nimby hands hold you by the armpits, lifting you up and carrying you to your bedroom, a metallic quadrangular block with a thin mattress. 

— Trinity…— You weakly murmur her name like a prayer once she sets you in the bed. She was almost leaving, but stops once she hears you. Her deep blue eyes turn back to look at you, nodding for you to speak. 

— Can you stay here? Please…— your request is almost infantile, but here, where you are, you can’t seem to care. There’s nothing to care anyways; morals, reputation, social cues, they are all part of matrix social engineering. She doesn’t even answer you, just walks towards your bed, lays there beside you, squeezing you between her warm, strong body and the cold wall. You have a million of unanswered questions, but you remain quiet, only enjoying the first moment of tranquility you had since you took the red pill. 

In the real world, time doesn’t flies past by like the wind. The days last, the weeks feel real. And it only helps that you’re learning your place in the world, beside Neo and Trinity, Zion’s love-dovey favorite couple. Firstly, you were afraid of hoping on something so precious, so delicate and beautiful, but they always welcomed you like you’re part of their puzzle. The dynamic in the missions are always them looking after you, taking turns to see who will protect you against matrix horrors. 

It’s no surprise when you find yourself like this, sandwiched between them, their lips toying with you like you are their propriety. Neo is claiming your lips with heavy desire, trinity exploring your neck with wet kisses. Two pair of hands explore you, touching every inch of your skin. 

You can easily disguise who is who; Trinity has softer hands, but she’s confident, almost cocky as she massages the plush of your chest, nails fidgeting with your sensitive nipple, caressing and pinching it, making you jolt on Neo’s rough, heavy fingers, that find themselves nestled inside your already dripping cunt, curling and rubbing your soft spot with such a precision that sent you reeling.

— Neo, stop stealing all the fun..— Trinity chastised, smirking as she competed with Neo for you. Her hand, previously abusing your nipple descend to your clitoris, fingers rubbing slow, tantalizing circles. You moan for them, a slow, deep cry that shows how fully blissed you feel, laid there with the two of them besides you, squeezing you. 

— She’s gonna cum…— Neo murmured to trinity as if you’re not there, making you just more sensitive and flustered. They both start to speed their rhythm, your pussy fluttering and dripping as you cum.

They give you almost no time to recover, moving you around like a rag doll, positioning you to their will. With your head spinning, it feels like a second and you’re laid on your back, completely limp and trembling. Neo positions himself between your legs, while Trinity sits next to your side, long fingers caressing your thighs. 

— Can I, love? — Neo asked with a murmur, sweet eyes focused on you, searching for reassurance in your face. You nod, humming positively as you spread your legs further. With your consent, he slowly ease his cock inside you, and you cry out, the sting making you see starts. While you weren’t a virgin in the matrix, your real body never had experienced sex, or anything for the matter. Every experience was new, senses heightened, and the way sex felt even better in real life could be criminal if it wasn’t so damn good. 

Trinity chuckles at your blissed out state, admiring your contorted face, how your body squirm and jolt with every slow, deep trust of Neo’s hip. She caress every part of you, stopping right at your engorged clit, rubbing it so slow it only served to make you even whinier, hips bucking and searching for more friction from both of them. 

— T-Trin, let me taste you. — You murmur pleadingly, eyes moving to her face. You need to feel both at the same time like you need air, the desired to be completely consumed biting you in tidal waves. Trinity seemed surprised, but would never deny a request like that. With a sly smirk, she moves to straddle your lower face, only hovering, careful to not hurt you. With a surprising strength, you grabbed the sides of her hips, pushing her down to your face, pressing her pussy on your mouth. It feels like heaven, the sweet and tangy taste flooding your senses. She’s so wet you could drown on her and die gratefully. When you latch your lips around her pulsating clit, Trinity fists your hair, riding her hips against your face. 

In this moment, you felt so much at once it was like you could combust at any moment. Neo only gets harder at the sight of Trinity riding your face, fucking you like he’s punishing your cunt, his pelvis slapping your clit repeatedly. Your muffled moans only causes Trin to ride you faster, clit bumping your nose while you lap at her dripping nectar. Her hips start to stutter at the same time you feel your pussy fluttering around Neo’s length, and you help Trinity to ride her orgasm at the same time the tight coil in your womb snaps, both of you cumming at the same time, her release dripping all over your lower face. Neo’s follow both of you right along, cum spurting deep inside you, filling you up until you’re dripping. 

The three of you lay completely spent on the bed, panting and looking completely wild. It feels like hours until your breath finally calms down, exhaustion taking over you. Trinity is the first to move, one arm resting against your waist, hugging you protectively as she closes her eyes. Neo, on the other side, hugs both of you and Trin with his long arm, and again, you’re sandwiched between their warms bodies. You fall asleep like that, feeling the safest, and more loved you ever felt. 

He’s in love with you. 

Well… as “in love” as someone like him can be, anyway.

But, oh, he finds you fascinating.

That night, David didn’t sleep. No, he was too busy scouring the internet for any trace of you to worry about the inconvenience of sleep. In all honesty, he didn’t even realize how much time had gone by until the birds outside his apartment started chirping. But none of it mattered, not now! He knew everything about you, everything he could find buried in websites and code and forums. Your hometown, your address, your car, even the name of your beloved childhood pet who died when you were twelve. Every bit of you sent him spiralling deeper into his own obsession, a blissed smile on his face as he read about you.

But your profession was the icing on the cake.

His sweetheart, his love, his inspiration… was a crime novelist. A crime novelist! There was no better match for him, in his own humble opinion. God, the way your mind must work to come up with those gorey scenes… It sent a shiver of longing down his spine. He wanted you. Badly. Whether that be under him, on top of him, his hands around your throat, your hands around his throat-

He glances at the clock on his desk, seeing the time. He was up like a man possessed, grabbing his black trench coat from the stand by the door. David had a shrine to build and he refused to delay any longer. He went to the print shop down the street first, clutching a list of URLs in his palm like it was his only hold on sanity. All the URLs were the best pictures he’d found of you; pictures from your author website, pictures from your publishing company, college yearbook pictures, high school yearbook pictures. 

The door opened with a chime as he swept in like a bat out of hell. He smiled charmingly at the girl behind the counter as he handed her the list, hoping the dark bags under his eyes didn’t make him look too unhinged. “One copy of each of these, thanks.” He said, barely even looking at the young woman. She didn’t matter. She wasn’t you. She didn’t have your eyes, your hair, your lips, your body. Ordinarily, he would’ve flirted a bit, maybe killed her later. But he was a loyal boyfriend and couldn’t even imagine looking at anyone else now. His brown eyes were locked on the printer, his expression almost manic with glee as he watched the industrial printer begin to spit out your likeness on shiny paper. When the printing was done, he slapped down two rumbled twenty dollar bills on the counter, muttering a quick, “Keep the change-” as he stuffed the pictures into a folder and clutched them against his chest before walking out the door. He walked down the street, the folder held in his shaking hands. These pictures were his holy grail, his ten commandments, his bible. David ducked into an alley, looking around like he had something much worse than innocent pictures in his grasp. He couldn’t help it, he didn’t want anyone else to see you but him. The brick of the alley felt cool through the material of his clothing, the solidness grounding him as his heart threatened to beat out of his chest. A shaky exhale left his lips as he opened the folder and looked-

You are so beautiful…

With a slow, reverent touch, he caresses the curve of your cheek that’s printed on the photo paper. Fuck, you’re divine. David can’t fight the whimper that escapes his throat, trembling at the thought that such a beautiful person is so close to being his. He closes the folder gently, not risking any damage to the holy images inside. He had more to do before he would reward himself with another peak at your perfection. 

Hours later, he kicks open the door of his apartment, arms full of bags from various stores. He drops it all on his table with a soft thud, still smiling ear to ear. After the print shop, he went to a bookstore, then a boutique, the music shop, and then the grocery store.

He ripped the photos of the other women off his wall, disgusted with himself for even considering them when you existed. Your photos quickly took their place, adorning the beige plaster of his wall. He smiled, kissing his fingertips before pressing those same fingers to your lips in each picture. Pulling himself away from the wall was a challenge, but he took comfort from the fact that your eyes were on him.

David had bought all your books, everything you have ever written, from your debut book to the latest in your series. He intended to get through them all before he met you, just to make sure he could ask you questions about your work. If nothing else, just to show you how dedicated he was, to try to convince you to let him be near you. David had peaked at the reviews online, the discussions on fan sites and had nearly swooned when he read about the main antagonist in your series. You had written him. Your serial killer with the charming smile, the smooth words, who killed without mercy and left a trail of blood behind him. Logically, it could have been any tall man with dark eyes and hair, but to him? To him, it was a sign that you were meant to be his the same way he was already yours. After all, why would you come up with a character who looks like him, acts like him, unless you were already wanting him? He placed the books on his shelf delicately, like they are ancient tomes that would crumble under too firm of a touch.

Next was the striped bag from the boutique. You had posted on a forum that you enjoyed this particular scent and David had tracked it down to a boutique in the mall. He pulled out the little square bottle, the thing looking almost like a toy in his paw of a hand. David sprayed the perfume into the air above his head, tilting his face back and closing his eyes as he let the scent settle on him. He inhaled deeply, letting out a sigh of pure contentment as your scent filled his lungs. After a few more moments of basking, he moved through the rest of his apartment, spraying the perfume in every room. He took special care to spray his pillow, knowing he’d be nearly smothering himself with it later as he stroked his cock to your smell. Once his apartment was thoroughly marinated in your perfume, he grabbed his purchase from the music shop. Your favorite record, ready to be played on loop until he knew every word and beat like the back of his hand. He set the record on his record player, letting the notes fill the air as he moved to the kitchen.

The ingredients were for your favorite dish. He was determined to master it so he could make it for you. The idea of you in his apartment had him gripping the edge of the marble counter, the need for that to be a reality slicing into his heart deeper than any knife could hope to go. He imagined cooking for you, dancing with you in the kitchen, singing the chorus of the songs softly into your ear in his soothing baritone. He thought about how you would look up at him with your soft eyes, your lips parted as you breathed his name like a prayer (he had already edited voice clips from an interview you had given a year ago to make you say “David, I love you.”). His mind went to how your lips would taste, how you’d sound as his hands roamed your body and learned your shape. How would you moan as he left marks on your neck? How would you react if his hand wandered under that cute little skirt you were so fond of-

The beeping of the oven pulled him from his thoughts and he groaned at the hardness now in his pants. “Control yourself…” He murmured under his breath. “She won’t want you if you get a boner from talking to her, you fucking idiot.”

He had to get cooking.

David sat at his computer, having eaten the food he prepared. It had been fairly good, an uncomplicated recipe, but there was still room for improvement before he made it for you. Now, though, was the task that had been tapping at the back of his skull all day. 

He was going to message you on the dating website. You haven't messaged him yet, probably too shy or busy. Poor thing. Don’t you worry, he’ll make the first move for you and take the leap of making first contact.

Despite how confident he usually was, he was hesitating now, though. He had poured over your profile, memorized every line. He knew what you liked and what you said you wanted in a man. He could be that man. But he was also terrified. David knew how precarious this was, how easily you could be put off by a wrong message. One slip of the keys and you could lose interest in him. He could feel the sweat rolling down his nape as he typed out his first message.

>Hey. 

No, no, stupid. Be more original! You won’t be impressed by a simple, “Hey.” He tapped the backspace, letting out a long exhale. Something clever, something to prove he was worthy of you, that he cared despite having never met you. He reread your profile for the hundredth time before pausing on a line. You like horror movies, you're a crime writer… He grinned as his fingers flew across the keys, hitting send before he could second guess himself.

>Hey, pretty girl. What’s your favorite scary movie? ;)

A/N: Part 2!!! Thank you for all the love and support on the first part! I really love this idea and am excited to share it with everyone.