fangel

He cared about you in a way that made him unusually cautious, almost overly aware of everything he did around you. There was a constant awareness in him whenever you were near, a sense that you weren’t someone he could treat carelessly or push too far without thinking about the consequences.

He was aware of the physical difference between you two, and more importantly, of how fragile you seemed in his presence when he stood too close or moved too quickly. You were small, delicate in a way that made him naturally slow down, it was like his presence alone carried too much weight for you to handle.

He knew exactly what he was.

Big, overwhelming, too much.

Oh, poor you, couldn’t even take his fingers without falling apart on him, your tight cunt clenching and resisting, your voice breaking into helpless cries, begging him to pull it out for just a second.

It really did feel like you were made of glass, something too perfect to damage, too soft to push past its limits without leaving cracks behind. Jay thought about holding back, about keeping things exactly where they were, untouched, safe.

But some things aren’t meant to stay perfect.

Some things are meant to be used, stretched, tested until they give.

“S-Slow down… p-please…” you whimper, your hands press flat against the wall, fingers splayed.

Oh, a perfect glass to ruin. Your back arches so perfectly in front of him, the curve of your body practically inviting him closer, the way your ass presses back without you even realizing it.

It took time to get you here.

A long fucking time.

“Love you,” he whispers against your ear, his lips brush over the sensitive curve of it, lingering there for a second before pressing a slow kiss just beneath. One of his hands settles around your waist, while the other guides himself down, his grip tight as he drags the thick length of his cock forward, letting the wide tip press and slide slowly against your slick labia.

A soft, breathy moan slips out of you before you can stop it, you glance back over your shoulder, your eyes meeting his for a brief second before you lean in just enough to catch his lips in a kiss that’s clumsy but needy.

Your neck strains with the angle, your smaller frame struggling to keep up with his height, but you don’t pull away.

His hips start to move in slow motions, dragging himself along your folds, teasing your clit with just enough pressure to make your breath hitch. The friction sends heat rushing through your body, building steadily, making your thighs tense as you try to hold yourself together.

You shift closer without thinking, your back pressing fully against his chest now, and the difference between you becomes even more obvious as both of his arms wrap around you, caging you in, holding you exactly where he wants you.

Your mind feels scattered, spinning in uneven circles, thoughts tripping over each other as anticipation and nerves twist together in your stomach.

You can take it.

You have to.

“Ya ready?”

“Hm…” you nod faintly as you break the kiss, your head dropping against his chest.

The position is awkward for him, his knees bending slightly to line himself up with you, his grip tightening just a bit around your waist as the thick tip of his cock presses against your entrance, nudging, testing, before slowly starting to push inside.

Fuck!

Both of you react at the same time, your mouths parting as an overwhelming sensation pulls a broken whimper from your throat, your body tensing around him as if trying to resist what it doesn’t know how to take.

“Shhh,” he murmurs quickly, his lips move over your ear again, then down to your neck, pressing slow comforting kisses there.

“Hurts…” you whine softly, your fingers tightening against his arms where they’re wrapped around you.

“I know, baby… just—just a little bit more, hmm?” Jay’s voice comes out strained and clearly slipping his control as he tries to keep his pace slow, his forehead and neck tense with effort while he eases forward in small, careful increments, stopping each time he feels you tighten around him.

But the restraint he’s holding onto is wearing thin, his focus breaking in waves as your warmth and closeness start to undo him piece by piece.

You nod weakly against him, lips parting as you try to steady yourself, “M’kay…” the words slurring a little, not quite clear but obedient in a ways that is trying to be good for him even as your body struggles to adjust.

Your hand stays on his arm bracing yourself as he adjusts your position, his feet nudging yours, guiding your legs wider so he can ease in further.

His mouth is trailing messy, lingering kisses along your shoulder and up your neck, so gentle at first then nibbling the skin, until it turn rougher, biting your neck that made your whole body shiver every time he would push his hips deeper.

Why won’t you let him in?

Each attempt is the same unsteady pattern, a careful push forward followed by a pause, then a slight retreat before he tries again, repeating it over and over as he tries to guide you through the sensation without overwhelming you, though the restraint in him is visibly thinning with every breath he takes.

“J-Jay… slow down… please…”

Your fingers tap weakly against his arm, trying to get his attention, but his focus is fractured. He hears you, but it doesn’t fully register the way it should, because half of his attention is gone, consumed by the overwhelming warm of your pussy, by the way everything feels too much and not enough at the same time.

He exhales sharply through his nose, a low grunt catching in his throat as he tries not to lose control completely, his movements stuttering for a brief second before he steadies again, though it’s clear he’s struggling now.

Let him in. Let him in. Let him in!

“Jay, love... please… wait…” you whimper again, almost embarrassed.

You can take this even if it feels like too much too fast. It isn’t that you can’t—it’s that he isn’t slowing the way you need him to, that everything is happening in rushed, uneven waves that leave you barely catching up before the next one hits. It was overwhelming!

“Jay!” A small, panicked squeal as you try again to pull him back into focus, your body tensing as you realize he’s not fully listening anymore.

Something is coming. Your stomach is tightening in a ways you don't fully understand. Something is fucking coming!

But Jay is gone in it now, lost in the moment, the next moment when he finally moves again, it’s with a sudden, decisive push that leaves no space for hesitation, pushing his cock all the way inside you. Drawing a sharp, breathless reaction from you as your body reacts all at once, your head tipping back, neck straining, vision flashing white at the edges as the intensity overtakes you and the world narrows down to nothing but him holding you in place while your hands scramble against the wall just to keep yourself steady.

“Ahh, fuck, finally.” Jay groans, his breath spills hot against your neck, while your own response breaks apart into soft, helpless whimpers.

Your legs tremble beneath him, muscles refusing to steady, and he feels every tight, fluttering clench that grips him like your body doesn’t know whether to pull him deeper or force him out. His jaw tightens, eyes flicking with a brief, impatient roll at the sensation, because it borders on too much, too tight, too warm, and yet he doesn’t move away, doesn’t give in to the pressure trying to push him out; he stays buried, stubbornly pressing forward, addicted to the heat wrapped around him.

Then he notices the way your thighs shake harder, the slick, sudden liquid spill that follows, spurting, as some of it trails down between your legs.

Oh…

You sniffle, lips quivering as embarrassment floods your face just as quickly as the tears do, streaking down your cheeks.

“Baby…” Hazy, almost dazed, Jay leans down to press a kiss against your head.

A flicker of satisfaction underneath it all, he feels what he’s done to you. God, he really did break you, didn’t he? His baby girl, falling apart right where he wants you.

And fuck, it feels good.

He drags himself out slowly, until there’s nothing left connecting you, the sudden emptiness making you gasp, but he doesn’t give you time to recover. He thrusts back in, forcing a sharp yelp from your throat that cracks into another sob as your hands curl uselessly.

Again—he pulls out, then pushes back in with the same steady force, drawing out that same broken sound from you.

“My baby… my love,” Jay murmurs, his head tilting back for a moment as his eyes roll, lost in the way you feel around him. One of his hands slides up, settling around your neck. “My good girl… it’s okay, shhh…” His tone softens just enough to soothe, even as his hips push deeper, contradicting every bit of comfort with the relentless way he keeps going, dragging you right back into it.

All you can do is moan. Your body feels like it’s burning from the inside out, heat spreading through your chest and stomach, pooling low in a way that leaves you breathless and unfocused. Your legs refuse to cooperate, trembling uncontrollably beneath you, barely holding your weight as Jay keeps setting that relentless pace behind you, driving his huge cock into you over and over again, hitting deep, right where it makes your thoughts scatter.

It’s too much, overwhelming in a way that makes your head spin, pleasure stacking until it feels unbearable. Good—too fucking good. It builds and builds, pressing against your nerves until it almost hurts, until it feels like your mind can’t hold onto it anymore. It feels—

“—Feels like I’m g-going to break, Jayyy—” your voice cracks as you cry out, your knees buckling under you, your body finally giving in to the strain.

You don’t hit the ground because Jay catches you instantly.

A sharp squeal leaves you as he lifts you with ease, one arm locking securely around your waist while the other still settling around your neck in a firm hold. The shift in position makes your head fall back slightly, your eyes rolling as your body reacts all over again, the angle changing just enough to make everything hit deeper, sharper, more intense than before.

“You can take it,” Jay groans right into your ear. “Haaa, I love your pussy, baby.”

Your feet dangle uselessly off the ground, swinging slightly with every movement of his body, your toes curling tight as the sensation keeps crashing over you. You are completely held up and kept in place while he keeps going, each thrust forcing another broken sound out of you.

Your back arching helplessly as the sensation overwhelms you again. It feels like you’re slipping somewhere distant, like your body is still here with him but your thoughts are drifting, dissolving into nothing but feeling.

Jay loves you, his baby girl. He fucking loves you.

A deep, guttural groan leaves him as he spills his cum into you, warmth flooding through your already trembling body, but he doesn’t let go, doesn’t ease up, doesn’t give you the mercy of rest. He keeps you held there, suspended in the air and keeps driving his hips, forcing the both of you in overstimulation.

You’re breaking.

That’s the most beautiful part.

If you crack, if you splinter under his hands, if you come apart piece by piece until there’s nothing left of you—he’ll just gather every shattered part and put you back together the way he wants.

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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The breeze picks up even more, and if this was a normal day, the visitor would qualm to himself about how there’s a smell of rain in the late winter air. The possible oncoming showers weren’t close yet, but the sky was already a smokestack grey with clouds. But, this isn’t a normal day, and the sound of thick plastic isn’t a normal sound the visitor usually hears when they come out at dawn with the hope of catching fish.

Unease settles in the crevices of the visitor’s posture as their mind tries to convince them that a body wrapped in plastic isn’t laying along the gravel shore. But, what they see is true, and what has been done is already done. The fish gear is abandoned and there’s that terrible racket of the screen door again as the visitor runs inside.

The wind carries the frantic chatter over the phone to the lake, and the lake slowly eases it along the dead body. Soon, there’s red and blue flashing lights accompanying a loud, droning siren and the image of the sanctuary is shattered forever; undoubtedly stained with the remembrance of this singular moment when the small town shifted for the worst.

The sheriff of this small town rounds the rocks himself and the nearly frigid breeze catches him off guard for a moment. “Seems like winter isn’t over yet,” he jokes to the coroner. The coroner’s face is locked into a frightful expression as he looks ahead. The sheriff’s head turns, and that’s when he sees it.

That frigid breeze picks up again, rustling the thick plastic, and your face—frozen with melting snowflakes of ice on your brows and pale, blue lips—is unveiled. If it had been under different circumstances, you would’ve looked almost peaceful. The sheriff takes a step forward, his mouth filled with sand that he tries to swallow thickly around.

“That’s Jay’s girl, isn’t it?” the sheriff asks to nobody. He doesn’t get a response. They all know who you are.

The forensic photographer steps in with a polaroid camera and snaps a picture of you before clutching at his stomach. “I-I can’t,” he gags, face twisted up in pure horror. He hands the camera over to the coroner and he instead takes the pictures for evidence as the photographer rushes away.

Between the loud siren, the sullenness of the scene rings louder. The camera hangs limply from the coroner's fingertips and the sheriff sways with the wind that chills him to his bones. You lay in the gravel, eternally still. Your bruised body had been bound tightly and wrapped tighter with that thick, rustling plastic. Your blood had been cleaned off, not that there was any left in you anyway. Parts of you were missing, limbs mostly. Chunks of flesh were carved out of you at what seemed to be random. Whoever dumped you seemed to have taken great care to make sure your body wasn’t further battered despite it all. And your face… your face was hardly touched. Most of the damage was done to your body alone.

“This is horrible,” the coroner shook out between breaths that clouded in front of his face. “Truly… horrible.” It was all he could say. The temperature seemed to drop by the second, and the sheriff called in the crime as the coroner moved back towards the parking lot to grab the stretcher.

Soon, everything was quiet again, but the grey clouds snuffed out the sunlight hues until everything was desaturated. The wind died down and the lake’s dilatory waves halted. Not long after, the storm came, and rain fell hard from the sky.

You were very young when you realized that people don’t really like to be reminded that no matter what they do, at the end of the day they aren’t immortal beings. The fear of death, especially one caused by such an unthinkable level of pain that it makes your heart hammer against your ribcage and causes your anxiety to spike, is highlighted and it makes those bearing witness to the mere story of it feel uneasy. It forces you to suddenly be aware of your surroundings—something that people say that they always are, until you find them constantly looking over their shoulder—and the concept that, at any time, something as tragic could happen to you.

Any time you would talk about what the natural cycle of a human life was, you would be hushed and your parents would have to give whoever was on the receiving end of the conversation a strained smile as they pulled you away. They would think that your words meant you were eager to be cradled in the gentle hands of Death, but that wasn’t true at all. You were just as nervous about it as everyone else. But, that didn’t stop you from wanting to make sense of it. It was only natural that you wanted your curiosity to be curbed.

There are things in this world that none of us will ever understand, cycles that we will never know the start of or when they might possibly end and why. You think that it is foolish to be so afraid of the unknown that you’d perpetually live in fear like that.

Fear’s touch is uncanny and cruel. It’s what most people think Death’s touch is. It’s a dull hum that’s always in the back of your mind slowly driving you more and more mad. It’s the slight tingle of long, sharp nails being gently dragged across your chest; you know that at any moment they could puncture the soft skin beneath and rip out your beating heart, but you’re too paralyzed to move away. Fear doesn’t care if you’re ready for the fall, it will push you off of the ledge before you can even take your last breath anyway. It corrupts the recesses of peoples’ already fragile minds and will make them act like cornered animals, lashing out towards the hand that feeds. You could always see Fear in someone’s eyes—it’s presence that demanded to always be known, be felt. That’s who Fear is.

You think you saw Fear face to face once—twice, maybe, but your mind was too muddled to see if your face shifting was just a figment of your fractured mind or not. It drowned you in red lighting the color of fresh blood and wrapped its arms around you like the heat of a knife slashing through you. You think Fear was looking at you through your own eyes then, staring back at you from the other side of the dirty mirror. You almost didn’t notice it until it pulled your face into a wicked smile; because Fear always wanted to let you know when you’ve accidentally crawled yourself into its den.

You didn’t even realize how scared you had become until it snaked its hand around your throat, squeezing tighter and tighter with each word until you were nearly blue in the face, and said in a low voice, “It was unwise to try and escape my clutches. Now, I will never let you go. I will linger around the edge of every frayed thought you will have and every hesitant action you will never take. You will not be able to discern me from yourself, and we will be tangled together until your very last breath. There will be nowhere to hide from me. I am a protector. Now, it’s too late to keep you safe.” You believed it.

A cold breath billows around your face, and you are far too gone to realize that it will be your final one. You never thought that you would know what it felt like to be so cold that you physically couldn’t move.

When people say that on a particularly chilly day, there’s always a hint of overdramaticization in it—a mutual understanding that despite how cold it is, you would hopefully never be that cold. There’s something that hangs in the air then, something that is eventually left unsaid and unexplored from nobody wanting to go looking for it. You know what it is now—fear. The thought is something that creeps down your spine vertebrae by vertebrae and lingers in-between the grooves there. Not quite a chill, but something worse. It’s something that adheres itself to you with every move you make, and each time the feeling arises it eats up a bigger part of you.

Dying from coldness is a painless and peaceful death. At least, after the first couple of days it is. Your body no longer shivered as you succumbed to your fate. You’d close your eyes, but your vision had already slowly burned away until you couldn’t tell if your eyes were open or closed anymore. That didn’t matter anyway, your brain had graciously provided you with hallucinations that kept your still-active mind at ease as you drifted along. It helped cover up the desperate breaths your body kept making to try and keep you alive. You’d laugh, if you could, but you were beyond it. There was no getting out of this—not alive. Not as the person you once were. You think you were beginning to be okay with that.

You were so, so cold. It was evident in the way the warmth was sucked out of your skin shade by shade and instead was pale and a ghostly shade of grey. The tips of your fingers were getting so blue that they were starting to deepen into a black color as frostbite settled into your bones and began the process to take over your body.

The only warm thing you could feel between the frozen bottles and shards of glass that dug into your back and the packages of meat that were hastily thrown on top of you was the blood that stuck to your skin and clothes. It gave you momentarily relief, and your brain grabbed at the feeling and tried its hardest to distribute it to the rest of your body. But, it was your blood. It covered you in splatters and slashes all over your body and was pooling out of you at an alarming rate, but your mind couldn’t give the energy to care about it, nor did you have the means to. Your oxygen supply was depleted.

You were completely bound. The rope dug into the skin around your wrists until it was indented with your helplessness. Your ankles and bare thighs were bound together as well, the rope traveling up them in tight knots that had gotten tighter the more you tried to move, and the knots linked them to your wrists. The deep freezer you were shoved into—still clinging to life despite it all—was small and cramped, and a haggard sharp exhale is released from you at the fact that the outside of it is covered in unassuming magnets. Besides your blood slowly flooding the bottom of your prison, you were back to feeling nothing when it all froze over anyway.

Images flashed across your eyes, hallucinations of getting free from this confinement. You imagined triumphantly crawling out of this deep freezer with your life hanging on by a thread and claiming the freedom that was stolen from you. The hallucination replayed in your mind over and over again. You’d run out of the back door and through the trees to the rows of houses from the backyard in one, or crawl out onto the porch on your hands and knees where a neighbor would spot you in another. All of them consisted of you making it out in time, until your brain had you convinced that you did. The concept of not dying in this deep freezer covered in your own blood and drenched in the stench of your own feebleness became hazier with each hallucination until your brain was too drained of energy and resources to make another. Still, you wished you could taste that freedom one last time before you gave up and passed on.

But, that was taken from you, too.

There were so many clippings of nails littering the hardwood floor that you would’ve thought Jay was starting a collection. His fingernails were nearly bitten down to the nubs and he was fervent with worry. He washed his hands over and over until they were inflamed red and felt raw, but each time he looked down to the draining stream of water there was blood. There was blood everywhere, and his nose was filled with the constant scent of iron. Jay tried to cover it all with the pungent smell of bleach that now coated the interior of the house, but it was no use. He would always smell the blood. Jay washed his hands again.

Jay then hurried over to the bathroom and flicked the shower on. He stripped off his sullied clothes and jumped inside of it, roughly tugging the curtains closed. For a moment, there was hope of reprieve. But, as he looked down at his body, that quickly withered away. Jay couldn’t see it, but he could feel it—the dirt that was covering him. No matter what he did, he couldn’t get it off. It felt as if it was forever stuck to his body, like the type of dirt you hear about from people lost in the woods for months on end. His breathing picked up and suddenly the water’s temperature wasn’t the boiling hot he cranked the handle towards, it was freezing cold. The type that made his teeth chatter and his body curl in on itself. He flew back against the tile and away from it, his eyes widening.

Short breaths tried to spark hollow lungs, but the more Jay tried to ebb the starvation in them, the shallower the breaths came until he dropped to the floor and pulled his knees to his chest ready to accept his fate. That’s when he noticed the steam wafting along the edges of the water. Jay’s breathing painstakingly slowed until his chest no longer felt tight and his lungs didn’t scream at him. He reached his hand out and put it into the stream of water. Jay didn’t pull away when the water burned him and made the skin around his hand and wrist redden. Instead, he let his eyes flutter closed for a moment and forced himself to feel the scorching, white-hot pain.

Jay pulled his hand back and shakily stood to his feet. He wet the wash cloth and drenched it in the soap you always used, but the scent was starting to slip from his senses. The bottle was nearly empty, but Jay didn’t think he could bear getting a new one that you hadn’t used before. He stepped under the stream of water, letting it dampen his dark hair and trickle down his face and back. He took the wash cloth and scrubbed his body clean, and then scrubbed it clean again and again until it was red and raw too. He harshly ran his fingers through his hair and along his scalp and let the water flow until his body started to ache and coil.

He remained under the water for a while more after that, making sure to wash himself one last time, until it had started to run cold. When Jay stepped out of the brief safety that was the confines of the shower, he was hit by the smell of blood and bleach again. He pulled clean clothes on as his racing thoughts returned to him.

Jay didn’t think he deserved to feel this way. He didn’t do anything wrong. At least, not intentionally. So why did he feel this way? This all had to be some big prank on him. Maybe the trick-or-treaters came early this year and nobody had told him.

He let you leave. He let you leave and you disappeared that night because of his actions. What if something happened to you and it was all his fault? He’d never be able to live with himself. Jay couldn’t live with himself at the pure, unadulterated thought and terror over it. He should’ve gone after you and told you to come home. But, he didn’t. And now you were missing and laying dead God knows where. Jay pulled at the roots of his wet hair before exhaling sharply and smoothing the strands back off his forehead.

When he left the shower, Jay cleaned the house from top to bottom once again. He kept the windows locked and the curtains drawn. He didn’t need to let anyone see him consumed by worry and fear. The dull ache between his bones and in the cavern of his ribcage was enough. He knows his neighbors must be curious. Usually, the house was basked in the daytime sunlight. You loved to open the blinds in the early morning so you could watch the warm sunshine pool on the floors of the house and gild everything it touched. But now, the house is cloaked in this vast darkness that Jay couldn’t escape, but one that only he alone could understand. It had become a sort of routine, at this point. One that, no matter how hard Jay tried, he just couldn’t seem to break. It was a neverending cycle that etched away at his flesh chunk by chunk until his eyes were dark and hollow and his skin was inflamed and ghostly.

Jay’s stomach rumbled with hunger, the feeling clawing away at his insides, but he couldn’t eat. He didn’t remember the last time that he did, if he were to be honest with himself. If Jay had to guess by the way he felt, it would seem that he hadn’t eaten since the day he stepped out into the living room to see that the house was still dark.

The fridge was empty, so if he wanted to make something to eat he would have to go into the garage and dig into the deep freezer to hopefully find something there. But, he couldn’t bear to do that either. Jay nearly keeled over at the thought of walking towards the garage door as his fingers got so soaked in bleach his skin started to peel.

Jay didn’t know why he felt the need to constantly scrub down the house, but he just knew that he had to. Perhaps it gave him a sense of purpose after failing you so horrifically, or maybe the way the bleach burned away at his sense of smell distracted his mind enough for his shoulders to ease. Jay turns and his eyes don’t skirt across the garage door this time. Instead, he stares eerily at it. At what he knows lies behind that closed and locked door. He hears your lilt voice, like a lulling that nearly pulls him under. Jay jolts back and the clean bucket of water he was dipping the sponge into nearly tumbles over at the action. Your voice doesn’t leave, though, and too late does Jay realize that it’s from a memory playing in his head.

 “I don’t see the point of this,” Jay says. There’s a hint of annoyance bleeding in from the outskirts of his voice as he crosses his arms at you, but you know that it’s not towards you. “Wouldn’t it be better to just get rid of them all completely?”

You come up from behind him and peer down with Jay at the empty deep freezer. Well, empty except for the small range of bottles of alcohol that barely filled it. You brought it home to him as a suggestion. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you laid your cheek on his bicep as Jay laid his arms over yours. A shiver ran down you at the chill radiating from the inside of the deep freezer, and Jay took a step back for the both of you before shutting the lid completely and turning in your arms. He pulled you close to him as a smile ghosted along his lips.

Smiling brightly at him, you shook your head in reply to his question. “The urge would still be there, and that would just cause you to look for an outside source when desperate. The bottles will freeze in there. But,” you say, tapping the lid of the freezer, “if they’re right under your nose, and you were really desperate for it, it will force you to wait for the liquid to unthaw. By the time that happens, you wouldn’t want it anymore.”

You didn’t tell him that the glass bottles would most likely crack open from the expansion of pressure, but Jay didn’t need to know that. What mattered is if he thought it could work, and he did. Jay pressed his lips to yours and you could feel the smile spreading across them. “Have I ever told you how I wouldn’t be here without you?” he asked you.

You smiled at him, “A few times now, but it wouldn’t hurt to hear again.” Jay repeated it for you, and you giggled as you brought your lips back to his.

Jay touched his fingertips to his cracked lips as he felt the ghost of your kiss. He shook his head as he finally looked away from the garage door. He would never go in there again. Jay clutched the damp sponge tighter until the bleach water squeezed out and onto the floor. He went back to scrubbing the floor again, not even realizing that he was now muttering to himself. “It must be spotless, must be. They’re coming—she is. Her eyes are all around me. Watching. Waiting. I didn’t mean to… I didn’t mean to, I promise! It was a mistake—a mistake! I’ll make it up to you. We’ll go up to the mountain and… And… We’ll go and…”

Jay hears the sound of tires screeching to a halt on concrete and knows it is the police at the door before they even have a chance to knock.

He inhales sharply, freezing, and he can swear that he sees his breath in the air around him. For a second, he doesn’t know what to do, until his brain kicks into gear and he’s draining the clear mix of bleach and water down the kitchen sink drain. He frantically looks around the living room as three loud knocks ring out and bounces across the walls. They sound like gunshots to him and he inadvertently hunches over in pain and holds his stomach. His breathing is heavy and labored, and his eyes are blown wide. The knocking starts again and it takes Jay a moment to realize that he isn’t hurt.

He opens the door to see the sheriff, a kindhearted man who doesn’t look like he’d be a cop if you saw him without his uniform on—but Jay doesn’t take kindly to him. The sheriff removes his hat and presses it to his chest and Jay’s eyes glare at the action. Jay hides one of his shaking hands behind his back and the other by gripping tightly onto the handle of the door. He doesn’t even hear the words that the sheriff says, but he already knows what they are. And they rip through him like a tidal wave. Jay nearly keels over again and slams against the door frame. The sheriff tries to help him, but Jay looks up and into his eyes with another fierce glare as his eyes begin to water. The sheriff gives Jay a brief and hesitant smile, looking over him for a moment as the pain works through him, before asking him if the two of them could talk down at the station. Jay obliges.

As soon as Jay steps through the doors of the sheriff’s department, he immediately knows that it’s somewhere he never wants to be ever again. Yet, here he is. The air is stale and smells of old cardboard and the faint stench of sweat no matter how many times the receptionist sprays air freshener. The fluorescent lights are too yellow and makes the stains on the wall stand out. And worst of all, when the sheriff leads him down the hall, everyone stares at him with disappointment that he’s here again.

The sheriff leads him into a room with a long wooden table in it. It’s an interrogation room, Jay knows this, but the sheriff tries to ease him into conversation like they both don’t know why he’s really here. Like Jay doesn’t see the single manilla folder laying on the table like a beacon filled with only God knows what is inside. He knows that eventually the sheriff will have to open Pandora’s box, but Jay could never even begin to be ready for it. His body aches sharply all over and each step he takes is painful. He doesn’t want to know what the contents of that folder will do to him next. Jay begins to ask himself again what he did wrong. What he did to deserve this.

“So…” the sheriff starts awkwardly, “Beautiful day out, isn’t it? The weather is really starting to get warmer. Finally, you know? I was beginning to get tired of all that winter coldness.” The sheriff chuckles more awkwardly as Jay keeps his mouth screwed shut and his hollow gaze snaps up to him. The sheriff clears his throat. “I regret to inform you, Jay, that the body of your girlfriend was found two days ago at dawn, by the old sawmill.”

Jay is flooded with all of those initial emotions again. His nails claw at the lacquered wood of the table as his face twists into something deeper than disbelief. Jay angles his face away from the sheriff’s words, pretending that if he turned away he couldn’t hear them.

“I know you made the missing person report for her and how difficult this must all be to hear,” The sheriff spoke again. Jay twisted away from him more and coiled into himself. His skin peeled off more at his fingertips. “But, I must go by protocol and ask you a couple questions.”

Jay’s throat closes up and he struggles to breathe. His eyes water more as he tries to clear his throat, but it doesn’t help. It instead pulls a gargled sound up from the back of his throat and releases it out into the wild. The sheriff slides a box of tissues over, trying to continue, but Jay swats it away. He doesn’t hear the sound it makes as it slams against the wall. He feels like he needs to claw at his throat. “The day you made the report… Can you tell me again the last time you saw her?” the sheriff finally manages to ask.

Jay glances up through blurred vision as his throat finally gives way and he swallows down gulps of air. His breathing is rasp and his chest fucking hurts. “Um,” he begins, voice hoarse. He ransacks his mind through the fog and decay and the madness for the answer. “She said she was going to visit her mother, but she never arrived. Her mother’s sick, you know, so she packed a bag to stay with her for a few nights…” Jay stops to inhale sharply and squeeze his eyes shut. The burning tears slide down his white-hot cheeks. “That was a week and a half ago now, I think. I-I’m not sure.” His voice cracks as he succumbs to the pain and wrings into himself.

The sheriff nods and looks over Jay with a heavy look of pity. Jay hates the feeling of it. It makes him feel dirtier. “That’s okay,” the sheriff quickly says. “That’s all I’ll ask you about the case today. I know it’s hard, Jay. It is for all of us who knew her. Whoever did this is vile. And trust me when I say that when we find them, there will be heavy consequences.”

Jay ignores the sheriff’s words of attempted comfort. They mean nothing to him and surely doesn’t make him feel better at all.

The darkness Jay kept sealed inside of his mind starts to bleed out and he starts to rock back and forth in his chair as he stares at the still-closed manilla folder. His mind runs wild at the damage the pictures inside will cause him. A part of him didn't want to see them at all. But another part needed to see them. Jay needed to know what was done to you, what the autopsy came back as, everything. It was the only way he could begin to try and wrap his mind around this whole situation. Even though he knew he never could. The sheriff was right. Whoever did this was vile. They were vile, deranged, and fucking filthy for hurting you. Jay wondered what your last moments were, but the thought hurt him too much and he pushed it back down with everything else.

The sheriff’s voice then comes back to him like the quiet hum of electricity buzzing through fixtures. Jay snaps back to reality. “Jay…” the sheriff speaks carefully, careful to tiptoe around the edges of Jay’s already fragile state. He must look so awful right now, but he couldn’t even bring himself to begin to care. “Have… Have you been drinking? I know with everything, times are difficult, but—”

Jay’s stare slices across the sheriff with so much venom and hatred that he almost shocks himself of how much he was able to conjure up. “What?” Jay spits out. “Y-You know I don’t do that anymore. She helped me stop. I-I-I don’t even remember the last time I looked at a bottle, let alone started a fight.”

The look in the sheriff’s eyes tells him that he doesn’t believe him, and Jay can’t understand why. He scrapes his hands along the fabric of his jeans with the need to wash them again, and Jay is eager to get out of here again so he could take another shower. The sheriff’s gaze falls down to the repeated action and he leaves his face purposefully blank to not cause more agitation. “Okay,” the sheriff says calmly, his voice steady. “You can g—”

“Show me what’s inside the folder.” Jay cuts him off.

The sheriff raises his thick eyebrows in shock. “Oh. Jay, I really don’t think that would be a good idea in the state you’re in ri—”

Jay repeats himself, more firmly this time. “Show me what’s inside the folder. I need to know what was done to her.”

He wasn’t even sure if he was even legally allowed to know the contents of the manilla folder that plagued him just being mere inches away, but Jay didn’t care about that. If the sheriff didn’t show him, he would just reach over and grab the folder to look for himself. Jay couldn’t let it keep eating away at him like that. It was consuming him alive. Jay’s mind spiraled down to every horrific thing that he could possibly think of and it was teetering him towards insanity. He couldn’t take it any more. It was getting so bad that he had to turn every photo of you in the house around because every time he pictured or saw your face, he saw you walking away from him and he couldn’t handle it anymore.

Jay needed to know what happened. It would kill him if he had to try and live the rest of his life trapped and lost in the large, gluttonous cavern that is the unknown. Jay couldn’t live with this fear tightening around his throat until he couldn’t breathe anymore. He just needed to see you—the real you—one last time in order to put his mind at ease.

“And… I want to see her body,” Jay added.

The sheriff sighed, knowing that there was no way he was going to be able to change Jay’s mind nor stop him. His fingers hovered over the manilla folder, and they trembled the slightest bit, enough for Jay to catch. The sheriff then finally, slowly, peeled it open inch by inch. Jay’s body desperately wanted to squeeze his eyes shut, but forced them to remain open as he greedily tried to capture the contents.

Once his eyes landed on the polaroids, though, he nearly blacked out. All that he saw was your bruised body in the gravel, bound and wrapped in plastic. The close-up shots of the chunks taken out of you, the bite marks. Jay almost threw up and he had to swallow the acidic bile back down. “Oh my god,” he whispered, voice even more hoarse than before.

“N-Now… did you know if she had any enemies?” the sheriff asked as he slowly pushed the polaroids towards Jay. “Or knew of anyone who could’ve done this—anyone at all?”

Jay’s eyes widened as he looked at the pictures in more detail. They were absolutely horrific. His body trembled again, and he was freezing. Jay shook his head. “No. N-No… everyone loved her, you know that.” His voice came out broken as the tears finally fell in large waves. “How could someone do that to her?” Jay recoiled away from the pictures and into himself again, shaking as he rocked back and forth in the chair.

He didn’t snap back to reality again until the sheriff was leading him towards the doors of the morgue. And even then, that wasn’t until the door to the room you were in was opened and his eyes fixed on your corpse lying on a table. The coroner looked at him sullenly, intentionally keeping his eyes away from your body. Jay’s hand went to go and smooth over his mouth, but when he saw the bright blue medical gloves he flinched, hard. The scent of blood filled his nose again and he stumbled backwards.

The rest of your body was covered by a thick fabric, but your face was exposed. Slowly, Jay moved closer to you. His gloved hand hovered over the fabric, just centimeters above. Jay swears he could still feel the heat radiating off of your body as his hand hovered above your arm. You were so pale… so, so pale that you were blue. The warmth was sucked right out of you. Your lips were a mix of a deep purple and streaks of black. Jay couldn’t believe his eyes. There was light bruising around your throat. Fingerprints.

Jay took the fabric and slowly started to pull it down. The coroner started to protest, but the sheriff held out a hand to him. Once he saw that there were parts of you were missing and how badly battered you were, Jay swiftly pulled it back up. He turned sharply on his heel and rushed out of the room.

Jay slams the door closed and leans against it as he’s finally able to breathe. The smell of blood and bleach is a surprisingly welcome one after the things that he had just seen. He shuts his eyes as he lets more oxygen pass to his lungs.

“What happened, baby? You look like you got put through the ringer.”

Jay freezes. He thinks that it’s another memory, but he has no recollection of it. He’s terrified to open his eyes at the possibility that somehow, someway, you’re actually here with him and he’s hearing your voice. When he feels your hand cup his cheek, his fears are confirmed. Jay’s eyes slowly crack open and he sees you standing right in front of him, alive and well, and just as beautiful as he remembers you being. Your voice is almost delayed as you say his name in question—odd, like you said it backwards and he was hearing the sound rewinded.

Your brows are tugged together in concern as you look at him, lips slighted pouting as you try to make sense of his body language. Jay tries to push himself further into the door as his hand squeezes around the handle. Your skin is warm with life and there’s no bruising or missing limbs. Jay’s eyes start to water.

He stumbles forward and wraps his arms around you. Jay holds you so tight that you start to laugh, the pretty sound muffled by his shirt, as you wrap your arms around him, too. “I-I don’t understand,” Jay mumbles in the crook of your neck as he inhales your familiar scent. For once, the blood and the pungent bleach smell is gone. He realizes that he also doesn’t feel dirty anymore. “How are you here? The police just found your body.”

You pull back from him, shock painted in your expression. You look at Jay like he’s gone mad, and maybe he has at this point. Taking his face back in your hands, you start to examine him. “What?” you ask, completely bewildered.

Jay can’t get over the way that you look. Your skin is round and plump and soft. He sighs and leans into your touch. He notices the sunlight pouring in from the open windows and he lets himself live in this fantasy even if it might not be real. The tears fall from Jay’s eyes, and his mouth opens and closes to try and respond but all he could do is smile at you as his vision blurs. He turns back to the garage door and thinks that maybe he was drinking and just didn’t realize it. Maybe his grief is blending into his drunkenness. Jay didn’t feel drunk, but maybe that was the numbness. He couldn’t tell. Jay starts to tremble again. You turn his face back towards yours and make him look at you.

“I’m right here,” you say, voice soft. Jay tries to look at the garage door again. He gets a glimpse of it until his gaze is being pulled again and you come back into view. “I’m alive. You do know that, right? I’m right here.” Your gaze quickly flicks over to something behind him. 

Hesitantly, Jay nods, but even he isn’t sure anymore. You repeat again how you’re alive, your voice adamant as it cuts through Jay’s psyche. Jay closes his eyes as a sob wracks through him, and he believes it. He opens them again, and for a second his stare is strange. You see something flash across Jay’s eyes, and your eyes widen ever so slightly—Fear.

“Come on,” you say, pulling him towards the couch. “Get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake back up.” Jay protests, but he knows it's no use. He feels exhausted, and his mind feels like it’s unravelling at the seams. He leans back against the cushions of the couch and gets comfortable. You smile down at him and press a kiss to his cheek. You yank yourself back before placing the back of your hand on his forehead. “Jesus, you’re so warm. I’ll go get you a cool blanket.”

You stand to do just that and Jay grabs your wrist before you could get too far. You raise a brow at him in question. He looks up at you so happily that it makes your heart swell against your chest. “I love you,” Jay says, like he wasn’t able to say it for a long time. “I love you so much.”

A smile breaks out across your face as you shyly look away for a moment. Jay would do anything to see it stay there forever. “I love you, too,” you respond, quietly. Your voice then picks up. “Now go to sleep! Clearly, you need it. I think you may be coming down with something.” You raise your eyebrows up at him in a playful threat, and Jay chuckles and nods as his thumb smooths over the skin at your wrist. He lets go of it and you go to retrieve a blanket for him.

Once Jay had fallen fast asleep, you unlocked the garage door and slipped inside. You creeped over to the deep freezer you had gotten not too long ago and opened the lid of it. The frozen bottles were still in there, some of them shattered and some of them still intact. You counted them to make sure the right amount was there and there was. You closed the deep freezer and slipped back out of the garage. You checked to make sure Jay was still asleep before turning the whole house upside down. Nothing came of it. You stood in the middle of the living room staring at Jay’s sleeping body, confusion seeping out of you.

There was something different about him, something that had changed overnight, that wasn't there before. Or maybe it was always there and you were just now noticing it. Still, it rumbled something deep inside you—awoken something. You saw the same feeling in Jay’s eyes when the fog cleared and he finally saw you… You shook your head, you didn’t want to think about it.

You looked over at Jay one more time, your hands resting on your hips. He looked like an absolute wreck. Which was odd because he didn’t look that way this morning. What happened between then and now that could cause him to react that way? You didn’t know, but you were going to get to the bottom of it. No matter if it was the last thing that you did. You weren’t going to let him fall into the depths again, not when you were here.

Sighing, you ran a hand down your face as you thought about what Jay said. What did he mean by, “The police just found your body?” A chill ran down your spine as you looked towards the garage door again. You didn’t think that you wanted to know.

“Stop it! You know I’m ticklish,” you giggled, moving your legs away from Jay. He gave you a lazy smile as his fingers continued their slow descent up your calf. Jay moved further up the bed, his body quietly overshadowing yours. You playfully rolled your eyes at him. He lifted your leg and pressed his lips to your calf, right where the tips of his fingers previously gazed. A smile spread across Jay’s face before he placed another kiss further up.

“Are you going to keep teasing me or do you have other plans?” you ask, smiling. Jay said nothing, but his smile remained.

He opened his mouth and playfully nibbled at your calf before giving it another kiss. You giggled more and Jay slid his hand up the underside of your thigh as he pushed your leg towards your chest and climbed further up your body. “Do you have other plans?” Jay asked, his voice murmuring against your lips.

You hummed at him and closed the distance between the two of you, taking his lips against yours. You then suddenly pulled back, eyebrows furrowing. You swore you tasted alcohol in your mouth, but when Jay leant in to kiss you again the taste was gone. It was all so strange, and it wasn’t the first time you tasted alcohol on him since the other day he came home and said the police found your body. What was going on with him? You must’ve checked the house a million times over by now and still there was nothing. You didn’t want to accuse Jay of something that may not be true, but you also didn’t want to just brush this all under the rug.

There was more than that too that you didn’t want to ignore. You noticed lately how sometimes his words would be slurred. Not enough that it would cause immediate concern, but enough that when you looked back at the conversation you just had together you would remember hearing it. Sometimes, Jay would come home from working and his body would be all languid and slouchy. At first, you chalked it all up to you making a big deal out of nothing. But, as everything built up, you were beginning to think that it was something more.

You had to figure out some way to confront him with all of this in a way that wouldn’t ultimately ruin things. That was the last thing that you wanted to do. All you wanted was to help Jay through whatever he was going through. You felt a deep pang in your chest that reverberated all throughout your body. If he was struggling again, why didn’t he tell you? Did he not trust you to help him carry it all?

You pulled back again and Jay started kissing your neck, playfully nipping at it like he did with your leg as you giggled again. “Okay,” you say, sitting up and making him roll to the side and off of you. “I’m gonna be late. We can continue our activities later.”

Getting up from the bed, you began putting the rest of your clothes on. Jay wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back down onto him, trapping you against his body and on his lap. You turned and smiled at him. “Where are you going? Why can’t you just stay here?” he asks, his voice muffled from his face being buried in your back. “Stay here with me, don’t go.”

“I’m going to go check up on my Mom,” you say, wiggling out of his grasp, your laugh carrying through the room. You managed to get away, but not before Jay caught your wrist, sullenly looking up at you. “It’ll be quick! She thinks that she’s coming down with something again. You know how she gets around this time of year.”

Jay sighed and his grip on your wrist got tighter before he ultimately let you go. You leaned forward towards him, your face hovering just inches away from his. “Don’t miss me too much,” you smiled and then pecked his lips.

Jay follows you all throughout the house until the two of you are standing next to the door. “Do you really have to go?” he asks you, basically hovering over you as you go to unlock the front door. He’s been really clingy since the day he came home too. Not that you minded, but it’s been next level these past two days. He’s been attached to you at the hip and followed you like your shadow. You tried to ask him what was wrong for him to be acting this way, but he just kept saying that he didn’t like to be too far away from you.

“It’s a small town, Jay. I promise I won’t stray too far.” You gave him one last smile before opening the door and leaving.

Jay had to know where you were and where you were going at all times. It’s like he didn’t sleep. If you tried to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, you’d open the door back up to see him standing in the dark hallway, waiting for you. You never even heard him get up. If you had to guess, the police finding your supposed “body” must’ve freaked him out beyond belief. You tried to reassure him that you were alright and that nothing was going to happen to you, but it was like he wanted to assure that himself. You won’t lie, it was all starting to get a bit eerie.

That night, you came home later than you expected to. You and your Mom got too caught up at the diner talking to old friends who happened to stop by and you all had dinner. When you walked through the door, Jay was pacing just in front of it, repeatedly wiping his hands down his jeans. “Where,” he started, and you caught the slur in action. It wasn’t present in the rest of the sentence. “were you?” he asked. You opened your mouth to speak but he swiftly cut you off as he stopped pacing and came to a stop in front of you. “You said it wouldn’t take long!” His voice was frightened and agitated, and he lightly pulled at the bottom hem of his shirt like he wanted to take it off.

“I-I was with my Mom, I told you that. We met up with some of her friends and got dinner,” you say gently as you try to calm him down. You grab his face and Jay almost instantly relaxes as his eyes flutter shut. He leans his head into your touch. “Jay… what is this really all about? What is going on? You’ve been acting so strange lately.”

Jay pulls you into him, holding on to you like you are his lifejacket and without you he would drown. “It’s… It’s nothing. It just isn’t safe out there and I worry about you.”

You know when he’s holding things back from you. That wasn’t the only thing he was worried about. “That can’t be all, Jay. This is the safest town I know. The most that happens here is people getting busted for petty crimes. Nothing ever happens here.” You pull back so you can get a look at his face. Jay keeps his eyes casted on the floor. “Is this about the other night? When you said the police found my body?”

You tried to bring it up gently, but Jay immediately flinched back, holding his head like he was suddenly hit with a migraine. You rushed towards him, grabbing him to make sure he was okay. “N-No… No, no, no,” he slurred together. Your brows rose. “It’s not like that. It was a mistake!”

“I don’t understand,” worry etched at your voice and you didn’t know what to do to help him.

Jay looked up at you and there were tears in his eyes. His brows drew together and his expression suddenly hardened like he was building up walls inside of himself. “Why did you go? Do you not want to be with me anymore? Is that it?” he suddenly asked, voice slurred even more. You looked at him bewildered at where this was all coming from.

“What? Jay, seriously, where is this all coming from? You know I’d never do that.” Your mind was spinning at the sudden one-eighty that he did. It was starting to make your head hurt. What was worse is the tension in your chest that started to bleed throughout your body. It was getting tighter and tighter until you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

Jay looked at you like he didn’t believe you, and you felt the fear creep in and surround him more. “If you want to leave, then go! I know there’s someone else. This is all too much for you, isn’t it. You liar.” He pushed away from you and stumbled over to the door of your bedroom where he went in and slammed the door shut. You stood in front of the front door, frozen in shock. You couldn’t even begin to understand what had just happened nor how to begin to fix it. You moved to your bedroom door and tried to open it, but the door was locked. “Just leave!” Jay shouted from the other side.

You took a hesitant step back, tears welling in your own eyes as you slowly turned and began walking to the couch. You refused to leave. Not like this. Before you could make it far, Jay came barreling out of the room and wrapped himself around you tight. He was shaking so hard that it felt like the two of you were going to fall over. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so, so sorry. I-I didn’t mean it. Please don’t go. I don’t know what’s happening.”

The tears slowly slid down your cheeks as you stared at the wall behind him with blank, wide eyes. You wrapped your arms around him too, inhaling sharply as you grabbed tightly at the fabric of his shirt until your knuckles were white. “I’m not going anywhere,” you shakily pushed out. You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Do you hear me? I’m never leaving.”

You didn’t know what the hell you were looking at. You were searching the house for bottles again while Jay was at work and noticed the slight marks on the inside of the deep freezer. At first, you thought that it might’ve been some wear and tear since you got it secondhand. But, the more that you looked, the more you saw that they weren’t random scratches at all but tally marks. You know for a fact that they weren’t there when you first got it. You don’t know how you missed it the first time you checked in here. Maybe your mind was just too frantic to notice. The tally marks nearly covered the entire inside of the lid. You didn’t know what it meant, but all of the previous bottles were all inside. Jay must’ve had some that he didn’t tell you about or was drinking when he wasn’t at home. You looked towards the door of the garage, worry weighing you down like an anchor.

You had called the sheriff earlier and asked if Jay had been down at the station recently. The sheriff just laughed and said he hadn’t been down there in a long, long time. In fact, he’s been avoiding even going near the place or a police car in general altogether. He asked why you were asking, and you couldn’t bear to say anything past that. Just thanked him and hung the phone up.

Maybe it was all in your head. Maybe the worry and Jay’s odd behavior really was getting to you and you were seeing patterns and weird things like tally marks that weren’t really there. But, something in you just wouldn’t allow yourself to dismiss it all. You heard the familiar rumblings of Jay’s motorcycle and swiftly left the garage and weird tally marks behind. You were coming out of the kitchen when Jay opened the door.

His eyes were red and a little puffy. You know he didn’t sleep at all last night. All he did was cling to you and that made you even more worried. He kept checking to make sure that you were still breathing every once in a while, like if he let himself slip off he’d wake up to find you no longer alive. You had to force him to go into work today, saying that you would be fine on your day off and you knew that nearly killed him.

Jay immediately made a beeline for you, grabbing you firmly and pulling you to his chest. You gasped at his roughness, but Jay immediately melted himself into you and inhaled deeply. “Jay, it’s okay,” you say, softly. “I told you nothing would happen.”

“You didn’t leave, did you?” he asks, voice hoarse. When you hesitated, he pulled away from you so he could see your face. “Did you?”

You looked away, not being able to meet his intense stare. Your heart rate started to pick up. “I-I went to my Mom’s again. She’s starting to get worse.” Jay’s hold on you got tighter. His brows pulled together and you saw the flash of emotions on his face, like he didn’t hear what you said, just that you had left.

“So you do want to leave, don’t you?” Jay started to shake his head as he pulled you even closer.

“No! Jay, I—” He cut you off.

His face flashed through emotions again before it once again settled on fear. “Who is it, huh? Who is he? I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him and make you watch me do it. You can’t leave me—you won’t.” He started rambling things that you couldn’t understand and it was starting to scare you. You looked at him in shock with the words that just came out of his mouth. Jay had a history of petty bar fights while drunk, but he was never violent in this way. What scared you the most was that there was no slur in his speech, there was no stumble in his walk either, and he didn’t smell of alcohol. There wasn’t any fog across his eyes like he wasn’t seeing clearly—this was the clearest that he has looked since that strange night he came home. Jay meant every last word. His voice was steady despite his harrowing fear that had frozen his face, and that made you start to tremble. You tried to move away from him, but he wouldn’t let you. “You’re mine, not his.”

You finally wiggled free of him and started backing up. “What the fuck is wrong with you? There isn’t anybody else, just you!” Jay tried to reach for you again, but you turned on your heel and moved quickly to the bathroom, him hot on your heels. You slammed the door in his face and locked it. Jay started banging on the door, yelling on the other side to let him in and to not leave him, as you backed away from it shaking. Your breathing was short and labored, and you stared at the door as Jay tried to take it down to reach you again. His anger quickly devolved into begging as the banging stopped and he occasionally rattled the door handle. You could hear him crying. You backed up into the sink counter and gasped as you jumped. Placing a hand to your heart, you turned towards the dirty mirror and looked at yourself.

You tried to catch your breathing, but your throat closed more and more. You didn’t know who was staring back at you in the mirror, only that it wasn’t you. Sitting down, you sighed as you leant back against the cool porcelain of the bathtub. On the other side of the door, all you heard was Jay whispering “Please” over and over until you couldn’t hear him anymore. You focused on your breathing, making sure that your body stopped shaking and your chest didn’t feel like it was going to collapse. You weren’t sure how long you locked yourself in the bathroom for. The only thing you could grasp on to was the lack of light that began to leak underneath the door and the quietness that settled into you and the house after. You couldn’t hear Jay anywhere no matter how hard you tried to listen, but you know he didn’t stray far, if at all. You didn’t know what was wrong with him, but you knew that it was all starting to affect you too.

Slowly, you stood up—your knees weak and your legs tingly—and tiptoed to the door. Quietly, you unlocked it and creaked it open inch by inch. Jay was sitting on the ground across from it, his body slumped against the wall as he slept. You opened the door fully and stared down at him as the light from the bathroom casted across his body from behind you and illuminated the dark house. He must’ve closed all the windows and shut all of the curtains. You couldn’t begin to describe all the emotions that were rumbling inside you, the only one that you could name was anger. How could he do this to himself after everything he’s worked for? Your head hurt and you swore you saw shadows move across the living room that weren’t there. It felt like the house was haunted with Jay’s old ghosts, and it was beginning to wear at your mind.

You go to march past him, but Jay jumps awake from your footsteps and grabs your arm. “Baby…” he says, sleep still surrounding his voice. You glare at him and roughly shake him off of you as you make your way to the kitchen, hearing Jay’s boots fumble on the ground as he stands up to follow you.

Swinging the fridge door open, you ignore his presence as you try to find something to ease your grumbling stomach. Jay tries to keep touching you, but you keep pushing him away. You can tell it’s making him more and more agitated, but you don’t care. “Leave me alone,” you say, pushing past him to dig in the cupboards.

“No,” Jay says meekly, plainly. “Talk to me, please.”

You scoff at him, finally turning to look at him face to face. “Why? So you can accuse me of cheating and leaving you again? Say how sorry you are after the fact when you just keep repeating the same words? What’s the point, Jay?” He starts to say that he’s sorry, but you cut him off with a hand in the air. He takes it, pressing it against his lips, but you pull your hand from his grasp again. The only light on in the kitchen right now was the stovetop light, and it covered half of Jay’s face in shadows. “How many times do I have to tell you that none of that is true until you believe me? You call me a liar, but you’re the one who’s lying to me.”

“W-What?” Jay stutters. “I’m not lying to you about anything, baby.” You scoff again. Jay gets annoyed at that turns to walk away.

“Oh, yeah. Just walk away then instead of admitting it!” you call out to him, anger lacing your voice.

Jay swings back around. “I’m not lying!” he yells and takes you off guard. He starts looking around the kitchen as his hands rake down his jeans again. Jay’s breathing gets heavy and you can see that familiar haziness in his eyes that never used to be there before.

You chuckle wryly, stepping towards him. “I know that you’ve been drinking again, Jay. So just admit it to me. Where are you hiding the bottles at?” Jay flinches backwards and he looks at you with so much betrayal that it would make you weep if you weren’t so angry right now. You keep walking towards him, counting off the examples on your fingers. “The alcohol on your breath every time that we kiss, the slurred speech, you stumbling everywhere like you’re drunk out of your mind. Do I need to go on? Cause I will. The warmth that is always radiating off of you like you’re under some kind of fever and the chills that you get afterwards. You saying that the police “just found my body” despite me not even being dead. I don’t understand why you’re trying to hide it all from me when I’m trying to help you.” You and Jay are practically nose to nose and your chest rises and falls heavily with each word that comes out of your mouth. Your voice raises to a crescendo before everything then moves in slow motion.

Jay’s hands grab you, shake you, and push you backwards. Distantly, you hear him yelling something, but you can’t seem to make it out over the pain that erupts in your lower back as it connects hard with the kitchen counter. All you can hear is the blood rushing through your veins and the unevenness of your breath as you painfully try to stand back up to your feet. Your eyes are blown out as you look up to Jay and he’s frozen with his hands still in the air like he body realized what he has just done before his mind did. The anger quickly fades from his face as he stares wide-eyed back at you.

You make it to your feet with Jay’s wide eyes trailing you and the sound snaps back to you with the metal of the kitchen knife dragging across the wooden block that it is in. You hold it up at Jay and he doesn’t even move an inch. “You’re scaring me,” you barely say above a whisper and through rugged breathing. It’s the only words you can manage to get out, but the look in your eyes is enough for Jay to understand. His eyes are completely clear again, and his hands start to shake. Your eyes briefly glance down at them as your grasp on the counter tightens, and you hold the knife up higher and towards his chest.

All is quiet in that moment in the kitchen and you know exactly what is running through both of your heads. How did we get to this moment?

Jay’s eyes widen more as they drop to the knife, and still he doesn’t move. He’d let you stab him before he did anything else and you can see that decision settle throughout him. “I’m so sorry,” Jay says lowly, and for once you knew it was genuine and not a crazed plea from a cracked mind. His eyes then traveled from the knife you gripped in your hand tightly until your knuckles were white to where your hand was unconsciously clutched at your stomach. “A-Are you h…” Jay’s shaky voice suddenly trails off when the tears fall from your eyes, knowing that the question was useless to ask.

He takes a cautious step forward, raising his trembling hands up more, and you somehow grab the knife tighter as you point it more towards him. He takes another cautious step forward, and another until he can feel the tip of the knife you hold dig into his chest through his jacket and shirt, right where his heart is thrashing against his chest. Jay’s hands gently touch your arm where you’re protectively holding your stomach, trying to ease the pain still. The knife shakes in your hand and you angrily look at him through tears, refusing to turn away. Jay steps closer, feeling the tip of the knife break skin and the warm trickle of blood that drips down his chest and stains his white shirt red, as his hands smooth down your waist and snake around your back. Jay finally meets your eyes again, and he feels everything in him break.

“I’m so sorry,” Jay says, louder this time. He ignores the stinging at his chest. “I really am, baby. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I’ll… I’ll fix it. I’ll change and be better again. I will. I promise you that. This all will never, ever happen again.” There was seriousness to an extent that you have never seen from Jay before, but fear consumed you and you didn’t know what to say or do.

Your grip on the knife handle loosened as the kitchen was deadly silent. You and Jay stared at each other through the silence, his brows drawn together as he rubbed comforting circles into your back and the tears still slowly falling from your eyes. You both were too scared to move, too scared to witness how everything will change after this moment when you were no longer near each other. Jay slowly moved his hands up your waist and used the pads of his thumbs to wipe away your fallen tears. “I’m sorry,” he said one final time, barely loud enough for you to hear him. His breathing was still haggard.

You lowered the knife, still not taking your eyes off of him, as you threw it back onto the counter. It clanged loudly, but neither of you jumped. You reached your hands up so yours covered his and they stopped trembling. You couldn’t deny how, after everything that just happened, you still felt the most safe in his arms. You think you’d always would. Who knows what is going on in the dark corners of Jay’s mind. All you did know is that you wanted to help bring light back into the room.

Dragging your hands down his arms, you pressed one of your hands under his jacket and against his chest, right where his heart was and where he was bleeding. Your other hand grabbed at the fabric of his shirt at his shoulder and balled it up into your fist. Your gaze finally dropped to the blood and you inhaled shakily. “I love you so much, sometimes I want to kill you for the things that you do to me.” Your voice came out in a whisper and Jay leaned his forehead against yours. “Sometimes I just want to wrap my hands around your neck.”

You grabbed tighter at his shirt, your nails dragging across the wound on his heart that you caused and smearing the blood more on his shirt. Jay gasped softly. Your lips ghosted against his and you just held onto him even more before you slammed your lips against his. Jay’s hands fell from your face to your hips to pull you against his body. The way you two kissed each other was inimical. Your teeth gnashed against each other and your nails dug more into his skin and pulled more at his shirt until you were sure that it was going to rip any second now. Jay pulled at your bottom lip with his teeth until it started dotting blood where his teeth marks were. You pushed him backwards, your lips still on his, and you both stumbled towards the counter. The anger still didn’t leave, and the more you kissed Jay the more you took it out on him.

With the hand that was at his shoulder, you dragged it up his neck and dug your fingers into the strands of his hair and scratched at his scalp. Jay’s hands ran under your shirt and where there were most likely bruises at your back. His warm hands eased along them, pulling you closer, and you pulled at his hair from his roots—hard. Jay’s head pulled back and his mouth opened against yours in a moan. You took that chance to press your lips against his harder, your tongue diving into his mouth. You could feel his heart beating against your hand in the same tune that yours did and it drove you up a wall.

“Say you’ll never leave me,” Jay says against your lips, his hands moving further up your back, taking your shirt with it. You could hear the fear and agitation and hope in the way he breathed the words out. Like if you didn’t repeat them back to him the air would completely strip from his lungs. The two of you had fallen out of the light and all you could see was his lips, feel his breath fanning against yours. He held you against him tighter, and your back ached against his hands. You dragged your other hand up his chest to the side of his neck, a trail of blood following as you didn’t realize how much soaked through his shirt and onto your hand.

“I’ll never leave you.”

You aren’t sure where you are when you wake up, and your vision is so blurry that you can barely see. All you can feel is the weight of your own body on the mattress, barely able to move more than a couple inches, and that takes all of your energy. Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, and when you look over in what you think is your bed, Jay isn’t there. You feel so sluggish and delayed that in the effort it took you to sit up, you hadn’t realized that you fell back down until moments later. A sharp pain erupted against your skull, and you winced at the feeling. What the hell happened?

The door to the room opens and a bright light floods inside before a silhouette steps in front of it and swallows it all up. Despite your vision being heavily blurred, you’d recognize Jay anywhere. You try to speak around your thick tongue, and it takes a few tries before you manage to get words out. “J-Jay? What’s… going on?” He stands there for a moment, and you see him wobble against the door before he steps inside the room and shuts the door behind him. The light is suddenly smothered and the two of you are blanketed in darkness.

In the dark, you can hear him moving closer. Jay climbs onto the bed and over you, and you’re hit with the pungent stench of alcohol. You shut your eyes in defeat, trying to push him away from you. No matter how hard you tried, you wouldn’t be able to save Jay if he clearly didn’t want to be saved. “Go… away!” you push out. Jay kisses along your neck, mumbling how sorry he is again, but you don't want to hear it. “You reek… of alcohol.” Jay trails his kisses up your neck and along your jaw until his mouth hovers above yours.

“Forgive me,” he says in what might’ve been a plea if his words weren’t so slurred. He kisses you and you can taste the alcohol on his tongue. “Forgive me for everything that I’ve done. Everything I will do. Before it all begins again.”

You shake your head but Jay kisses you anyway, his hand crawling up your chest. His touch felt dirty. And you felt that dirtiness seep into you and become your burden to bear. Tears welled up in your eyes in the dark. “Why do I…” you inhaled sharply, moving your lips from his again as you tried to get out the words. “...feel so heavy?”

“You can’t leave me,” Jay slurred even more as he moved your legs and settled between them. You opened for him like a cherry blossom in full bloom. “You said you never would.”

“What have you done to me?” you asked him, and it came out of you so easily that it surprised you. The tears fell down your cheeks once more and Jay kissed them away before kissing you again. You didn’t realize that you were already naked until the heat from Jay’s drunken body made your freezing one warmer. Jay was naked too, and you felt his hard length press against your stomach as he moved his lips against yours. You wanted to tell him that this was the last time. That he just lost his last chance, but your mind fractured at the way his stained hands moved across your body and corrupted you. “Jay…” you breathed, as his hand moved up to your throat. You swallowed hard and Jay inhaled sharply at the feeling.

“I’m sorry. Please, forgive me…” Jay’s hand tightened a little as he spoke. He dragged his cock through your wet folds and moaned against your lips at the feeling. “But, you can’t leave. I won’t let you go.” You moaned softly as his cockhead rubbed against your clit.

Jay let the wet sounds from your dripping pussy fill the air and watched you as the pretty moans and whimpers were pulled out of your mouth. Your whole body felt so sensitive, and the slightest touch from Jay made your nerve endings flare up. He moved the tip of his cock down to your entrance and teased it going in over and over as he spread your slick around your folds. He moaned again before gripping himself hard and dragging your arousal down his thick cock. Jay’s thumb caressed the spot where he could feel your pulse and he breathed heavily at the feeling of your heartbeat. You tried to angle yourself away from him, not wanting him near you and not wanting to be overwhelmed by his touch anymore, but Jay held you down and kept you underneath him.

Jay pressed close to you, his breath hot on your cheek. He pushed himself inside you and past all of your walls and nestled himself there. “Without you near me,” he started, mouth swallowing the moan that you let out. His hand around your throat tightened a little bit more with each breath you took. Jay thrusted up into you, resting his forehead against yours as the two of you shared a moan. “I’d die. And you know I can’t live without you.” He kept fucking into you, slowly cutting off your source of oxygen and making your head feel even more foggy. Jay swallowed down every single one of your moans as he worked your lips against his so the only air you could inhale was the air that he gave you. “And if I die…” Jay sat up from where he was pressed against your body. You could barely see him in the darkness, but you saw the wild look in his blown-out eyes as he stared down at you, his hips rutting into yours. The pace got faster with each broken moan you let out and the ghost of a smile grew on Jay’s lips. He trailed his other hand from the back of your thigh and wrapped that one around your throat too. “I’ll take you out back with me, baby.”

You felt every inch of him as he roughly fucked into you like he wanted to teach you a lesson. You felt the way his skin slapped against yours and the way his fingers tightened around your throat every time he pulled another moan from your already wrecked body. Jay’s moans from the way you wrapped around him and the way his hands wrapped around you, feeling every breath you inhaled and every moan you let out, made everything feel euphoric. It felt so good, and your mind was so far gone, that you were finally able to just let go. Let go and put your whole entire life in Jay’s filthy hands and let him mold it and twist it around how he pleases. In this moment, you couldn’t care anymore.

Jay’s head was thrown back as his body moved against yours, too lost in the way that you felt. The two of you weren’t in tandem, but you think that’s just what made it all better. He rutted into you and sent tidal waves throughout your body, and you let him as he bent you to his will and used you however he liked. It was a battle; a long, long battle that has now finally come to a head. And Jay was winning, like he always would. It would always be like this—you underneath him and his hands around your throat as he let you taste a piece of Heaven before he sent you to it. You know that now, you just hoped you remembered it when your mind was clear.

The world around you started to darken more and more and you tried your hardest to raise your heavy arm and grab onto Jay’s. You felt so weak, but you also felt so fucking good, and the most you could do was lay your hand above his. Whimpering more, Jay’s thick cock split you open and you felt complete bliss. Your hand fell back against the bed as you felt your body slow more. Jay’s eyes fluttered open and his brows drew together as he slowly looked down. His breathing picked up as your half-lidded eyes connected with his, your body laid completely bare to him for the taking. Jay stiffly moved his hands from your throat, eyes wider than before as they caught the moonlight that seeped into the room from the open window. The cold wind blew open the curtain and more moonlight illuminated the two of you. You saw him clearly, then. This is who he truly was. Jay pushed the back of your thighs closer to your chest as he leaned forward, his eyes still meeting yours, and fucked into you deeper.

There was something primal in him. Like he wanted to stop, but for some reason he just couldn’t. When you stared at him, it was like the Jay that you knew wasn’t anywhere to be found. He was hollow inside and some foreign entity was controlling him. At least, that’s what your mind tried to get you to believe. But, the cavernous look in his eyes told you otherwise. It was Jay, just a part of himself from those dark corners that he didn’t let see the light until now. And you didn’t know what part of all of this scared you the most, the fact that something inside of him was deeply damaged and rotted, or the fact that deep inside of you—no matter how much you wanted to push it back down—you wanted to see more of it. The morbid curiosity freaked you out and turned you on even more.

Jay grabbed at your body so hard that you knew his touch was going to leave bruises. He was relentless in his descent. Your mind was still trying to fix itself after his hands around your throat and the pleasure that sent waves through your body that you didn’t even feel the pain. Moans pushed past your lips and encouraged them anyway. And with Jay—in his drunken mind—thinking that he was making you feel good, he continued. “S-Slow…” you swallowed thickly, unable to get anything else out. Your body tensed, and the pain spread so quickly through you from the numbness that you already felt that you clenched around Jay’s cock tighter unintentionally.

He winced as his face twisted in euphoria. You came around his hard cock, body twitching, and Jay doubled over in ecstasy as he chased his own release. He pressed his forehead to yours, hips moving faster than the languid motions they had fallen into, as he kissed you. Jay moaned into your mouth, wanting you to swallow down his too, but it only made your chest tightened and your throat close up. You didn’t want anything that he gave you. It felt polluted. And you had already given so much to Jay that there was nothing else left to give.

Jay groaned against your mouth, lazily kissing you as you felt him push his cum deeper and deeper inside of you. He quickly pulled out then, sitting up and tugging hard at his cock so the rest of his cum splattered across your stomach. Jay breathed heavily as he looked down at your limp body in amazement. There was a small grin on his face—one of accomplishment—as he spread your pussy open and watched how his essence dripped out of you. You were contaminated now, but in Jay’s mind, you were his. And now, you could be nobody else’s.

Jay abruptly got softer then. He touched you like you were fragile and meant to be beheld with great care. You certainly felt fragile, and something deep within you clung to this part of him that you were most familiar with—the soft side. His fingers gently trailed along the forming bruises on your body where he grabbed you too roughly in the midst of his pleasure, and he brought his lips to it and kissed the markings gentler. Jay kissed up your body, his tongue darting out when he got up to your perked nipples, before kissing up your neck where there were bruising fingerprints forming there too until he finally captured your lips in a tender kiss. 

The alcohol was wearing off and the fog across Jay’s eyes was fading. You could feel the slight regret in the warmth of his body, but you couldn’t tell what it was towards. Him drinking again or him drugging you so you wouldn’t—couldn’t leave while he was gone? Jay’s silhouette in the dark spun as your eyes got heavier and your lips faltered against his. He was fragmented as his body tried to pull multiple versions of him into one. You didn’t know which one was the real him anymore; didn’t know which one was your Jay. You couldn’t tell what or how anything was anymore. Everything was too blurred, too dark, too sullied for you to figure out. Jay’s hands shook as they cradled your face, and you knew the Jay you were looking at now was yours. You knew what his next words were going to be, so you said them with him. And you meant them too, this final time.

“I love you.” You didn’t think Jay believed you anymore.

Fear flowed freely through your body as you desperately stumbled around the house trying to pack up all of the things that you needed before Jay got back home. You don’t know how he did it, but he drugged you again so you couldn’t leave while he was at work. But, he must’ve not given you enough because you didn’t feel as weak as you did last night. Your limbs were heavy and weighed you down more, but you were able to move this time, and that was all you needed to try and make your escape.

You didn’t have the blinds drawn and the curtains open, but the sunlight that peeked inside still blinded you and made your vision hazy. Your head ached worse than last night, though, and this time you didn’t have the pleasure Jay provided to drown it all out—only fear. There was only ever Fear, now. Time slipped away from you, but you felt each second like a knife in your bruised back. Jay could be on his way home right now and you wouldn’t know. You couldn’t be alone with him anymore. You couldn’t be with him anymore. You were too scared of what he was going to do to you next, and you haven’t been outside in God knows how long. Did people even realize how long you have been gone? Surely they would’ve. You knew that your Mom would have, at the very least.

What day even was it? You didn’t know. You think that the day you held up a knife and dug it into Jay’s chest was a Sunday, but the days since then have been blurry. It didn’t help that Jay’s work schedule changed and shifted so much that he didn’t have a set one where he went in on certain days. That could’ve been useful, but it seemed like the world was against you right now. It was so cold inside the house that your bones rattled, but that feeling only egged you further forward. You would rather feel the coldness forever than ever have Jay’s warm body pressed up against you again. An opposing thought struck you, one that said you liked the eeriness of the situation you were placed in—that you loved the brutal and serpentine obsession that Jay exhibited, but you hit that thought back just as hard. You didn’t. You didn’t. If you felt anything, it was pure terror.

You grabbed haphazardly at the clothes in your drawer, throwing them into a random bag that you had found. You didn’t need much, you would figure out the rest later once you were safe, but you had to get out of here. Swinging the bag over your shoulder, you stumbled out of your bedroom and towards the front door. You saw the keys to your car on the entry table, you were so close to your freedom.

When your fingers wrapped around the cold metal, you breathed a sigh of relief and let out a little laugh. You unlocked the front door and flung it open, stumbling out onto the porch and relishing in the fresh air that surrounded you. In your solace, you failed to hear the boots coming near you, scraping on the concrete, until it was entirely too late. Your eyes flew open and you came face to face with Jay. His red eyes lingered on the bag hanging from your shoulder as he took another step towards you. You took a frightful step backwards, the feeling of repose snatched from you. Jay didn’t say anything, just took another step and then another towards you calmly until you were back inside of the house. Agonizingly, he shut the door behind him and locked it.

“Where are you going?” he asks, his voice placid. His expression was blank and when he turned his dark eyes back onto you, there was nothing in them.

Your tongue felt heavy again, and you adjusted the bag on your shoulder as you clutched the strap tighter. “M-My Mom’s…” you trailed, trying not to let the fear seep into your voice. “She’s… really sick, Jay. I have to go and help her.”

The truth was that you were planning to flee to her house. You knew that that might’ve been a dumb idea, but it was the only one your shattered mind could come up with through the ache. It was better than this house—where shadows lingered around the edges of your vision, where you swear you saw the paint on the walls peeling, and where everything felt so aphotic that the only thing left in the house was what was slowly decaying. It was driving you insane, driving the both of you insane. And you didn’t want to be here when Jay finally plunged headfirst into insanity, he was already halfway there.

“Really?” Jay asked, taking another step forward. You could tell that he didn’t believe you. Because, of course, why would you need to leave when everything you needed was right here in this house? When he was right here? You swallowed the sand and gravel in your mouth tightly and nodded.

Despite your trepidation, you still spoke up. “I was thinking of staying with her for a few nights… You know, really make sure that she’s alright.”

Jay hummed, but not in thought. It sent a disturbed feeling up your spine and made your body tighten up as your back hit a wall in the living room. Jay took another step forward and tilted his head at you curiously. “That won’t be necessary,” he spoke, his hand raising. His voice was so void of all emotion and not like the weary, frightened voice that you had gotten so used to. Your eyes widened as you felt your throat close. Jay’s finger grazed along your cheek, the tip of his finger leaving goosebumps along your arms, before moving it down to your chin and lifting it up so you looked at him. “You aren’t going anywhere.” He grabbed your chin hard. “You aren’t leaving.”

You felt shame at the heat that pooled in your stomach when Jay pulled you closer to him by his grip on your chin. Even more so when you pressed your thighs together at his lips hovering over yours. You could feel the smile that slowly spread across his face inch by brutal inch. It was wicked and cruel. Jay brushed his lips against yours before backing away and leaving you wanting more. You backed up again towards the wall and pressed yourself against it, your chest heaving as the bag slid from your shoulder. Your gaze dropped down to his lips and you licked yours.

Jay moved away from you and made his way over to the kitchen. You didn’t dare move even though you had the perfect opportunity. They all played out in your head; you’d make a mad dash to the front door and let the scream that’s been bubbling out of you release as you crawled on your hands and knees towards the neighbors, or you’d sneak out the back door and make your escape through the rows of houses past the woods. So many scenes flashed through your mind, but you pushed yourself further against the wall and let the fear paralyze you. You knew why you stayed—you didn’t actually want to leave Jay. Not like this. Not despite everything that has happened. You loved him so much that you’d rather fall into the pit of darkness with him than leave him to deal with it alone.

He came back with a glass of water that was the slightest bit cloudy and held it out to you. “Here, baby. For your throat.”

You shook your head at him, but raised your hand to wrap your fingers around the glass anyway. A sharp inhale sliced through you as tears pooled in your lashline. “Jay… just please… let me help you. We can get through this again, together. The alcohol it’s… it’s making you someone you’re not. It’s corroding your mind!” Jay raised the glass to your lips and focused on the way your lips pressed against it. He stood and watched you, silent. The tears fell from your eyes as you shakily breathed out and tipped the glass back. Jay’s eyes trailed down to your throat where his bruised fingerprints were and watched as you swallowed all of the water down in one motion. You pulled the glass away and sobbed. Jay took your hand and removed the glass from it before linking your hands together. He was warm… so warm. You hated how he eased the coldness in you and craved it at the same time. You rushed forward and wrapped your arms around him, holding him as tight as your pathetically weak body would allow you to. You snuggled your head against his chest and listened to the sound of his heartbeat as you squeezed your eyes shut and braced yourself for the fall.

Jay tossed the glass somewhere behind the two of you and it shattered onto the hardwood floor. He snaked his arms around you and held you to his body tighter. You felt your body weaken and get heavier, and Jay held you even closer as you began to fade away. “We are together,” he says, and he sounds so happy—like your Jay. Like he didn’t just isolate you and drug you again. It makes a smile ghost along your lips. “I stopped by the station and gave the sheriff a visit. You’ve been missing for quite the time, baby. I’m really starting to get worried about what happened to you. Where have you gone? Why did you leave me?” Jay’s nails dig into your skin and you finally hear the panic in his voice and the way his breathing elevates. “You’re killing me, you know that? Killing her.” He whispers the muffled words into your hair.

You shook your head again. You did feel far, far away. “I’m right here,” you slur, barely able to get the words out as your body grows heavier and your knees give out on you. Jay holds you upright and against him, refusing to let you slip through his fingers like sand. “I’ve always been right here. Right next to you…” The rest of your sentence floated off as you sunk underneath the water and towards the deep, cavernous darkness below.

When you next wake up again, it's between flashes of Jay bringing food and water to your mouth or lovingly washing your limp body in the tub, until you fully make your way back to consciousness on your shared bed. You try to get up, but your mind spins and erupts an ache across your head like no other. Something at your wrists catches and the feeling burns. You look up to see them tied with a thick rope to your headboard, and they only get tighter around your wrists the more you try to pull them free. The room is dark despite you looking over to the window and seeing the daylight try to break its way through the curtains. You hear clicking, and you look in front of you to see Jay in the darkness. He dragged a chair from the living room to the edge of the bed where he now languidly sits in it slouched back, his legs spread as he watches you. The clicking you hear is from him flicking a pocket knife open and closed. Jay doesn’t take his eyes off of you, doesn’t blink at all.

You aren’t sure how long he’s been sitting there, or how long you’ve been tied up, but it must’ve been at least a couple of days just from how disheveled Jay looks. You press your thighs together and move further up the bed. There’s a cold draft in the room, and your eyes move from Jay and down to your body. You were only in a thin tank top and Jay’s favorite lacy panties. The tank top rose up on your stomach and even though the room was dark, you saw all of the bruising that covered your body. Your eyes flick back up to Jay and you really take him in.

Jay’s free hand holds onto the arm of the chair so tight that you can see the veins along his arm work. His nails dig into the cushion over and over like he’s desperately trying to hold himself back. Blood drips from Jay’s hand and down his arm where the sharp knife he keeps flicking open and closed must’ve caught too many times. But, his hands don’t shake and his pitch black eyes still don’t falter in his feral stare towards you. You can see his cock straining in his jeans, making a massive tent at his crotch. Jay adjusts slightly in his seat to get more comfortable and his feral stare shadows over your body before he meets your eyes again. You press your thighs tighter together and notice that they feel sticky, and when you look down at them you notice splatters of dried cum across them.

“Why are you so far away?” you quietly break through the tension. Jay doesn’t respond, he just keeps toying with the pocket knife. You try to move closer to him, but your wrists pull at your restraints and you wince. Jay’s relentless game with the pocket knife pauses for just a moment after, and his nails dig more into the cushion, before he flicks the knife open again and continues. “Can you come closer? I want to see you.” you say just as quiet, your brows pushing together.

Jay leans forward, closing the pocket knife, and moves into the thin wisp of light from the window. He angles away from it like he isn’t worthy. You notice the bags under his eyes and the hollowness of his cheeks, like the entire time you were asleep he was awake. His eyes were rimmed red and his hair was even more messy than it seemed in the dark. Jay leaned back in the chair and you frowned. He continued with the pocket knife. You tried to pull more at the rope, but each time it dug more into your wrists and hurt. You kept wincing from it, and when you happened to look over at Jay you could see him grinding his jaw at the sound. His chest rose and fell heavily, and you noticed how he ripped open the arm of the chair from how much he was digging his nails into it. Jay’s eyes devoured you from the darkness, and it just made you want to get free from the rope more so you could let him.

“Stop that,” Jay says, and his voice comes out gravelly and low. He breathes out slowly and you watch him watch you.

You do, and you lean back against the headboard. “Come here, then,” you sheepishly respond, eying his bulge. “I want to feel your touch.”

It was so cold in your bedroom, and Jay had you practically stripped naked. Maybe he didn’t realize with the alcohol and that's why there was a draft in the first place. You wanted his warmth, his darkness. You wanted it all to cover you like a warm blanket. You wanted him to press his body against yours and trap you against his heat until you burned away instead of constantly shivering. To smother this frigidness inside of you that opened wider and wider like a black hole and fill it with his familiarity. You wanted him, you wanted him so bad that it rubbed your wrists raw. You were tired of the coldness. So, so tired. You pulled more at the rope holding you back and gave Jay a pleading look. 

You heard the sound of Jay flicking the pocket knife back open before he finally stood to his feet. Your gaze snapped towards him and watched him as he rounded the bed towards you. Jay’s feral stare was even more intense up close. He watched you struggle against the rope for a second, and he looked at you so hungrily that it just fueled that black hole inside of you. Your fingers reached out to him, but it was no use with the rope in your way. The knife was kept ominously by Jay’s side, the blood still slowly dripping from his hand, before he reached over to where your wrists were tied to the metal bars of the headboard. He pressed the blade of the knife against your wrist and you gasped softly from the coldness on your skin. Jay’s eyes flicked down to you before he slid the knife underneath the rope and sawed it off of you, the blood from his hand smearing over your forearm from his grasp on you. He got over you on the bed and did the same to your other wrist.

As soon as you were free, you took his bloody hand in yours. Your fingers trailed along the outskirts of where the blood dripped and Jay looked at you with slight confusion, his eyebrows just barely drawing together. You pressed your tongue to his warm skin, your eyes meeting his again, before dragging it up towards his hand and collecting the blood in your mouth. The taste of iron filled your senses, and you swallowed it all down greedily. When you reached Jay’s hand, you cradled your cheek with it, feeling his warm blood against your skin. You licked your lips and shut your eyes as you sighed in relief. Your body finally relaxed, but you weren’t content. You needed more.

Your eyes fluttered open when Jay smoothed the pads of his thumb over your rope burn. He still held the knife in one of his hands as he examined them. You wiggled out of his grip and ran your fingers through his messy hair and pushed it off of his forehead. It looked like he was pulling at it, but you smoothed the knots out. You dragged one hand down his face, slowing when you got to his neck and felt the way his breath hitched, before stopping at his chest. You used that hand to push Jay backwards towards the edge of the bed. He fell back onto one of his elbows, and the feral look in his eyes was set even more ablaze. You pushed him down further as you climbed on top of him. You slid your hands into his, interlocking them, as your lips brushed against his. The pocket knife was cold between you and Jay’s hand, but you could barely feel it and the way his blood smeared onto you once you closed the distance between your lips and his. 

The first drop of blood that dripped from your mouth to Jay’s was the beginning of the end. You think that you both knew that, so you dragged out the grand finale for as long as you possibly could. Jay’s own blood wasn’t enough. The taste of iron in his mouth was putrid, and he nearly spat it back into yours, confused on how it brought you such reprieve. He wanted to taste you in his mouth, your blood. Jay just knew that it would taste so sweet on his tongue. Every other part of you that he had already did. He wanted to take your flesh between his teeth and bite. Consume you whole so you’d always be a part of him and he could hold your sweetness forever. It was selfish of him, but Jay didn’t care. He wanted it so badly anyway.

You grinded against the bulge in his pants and a moan bubbled up from deep within you and back down into Jay’s mouth. He kissed you harder, and you held him down further into the bed, your hands tightening together. Your arousal soaked through your panties more, but you couldn’t stop chasing the feeling that Jay gave you, even as your rational mind desperately tried to kick in through the pleasure. “Do you love me, Jay?” you breathed against his lips, your hips still moving.

Jay’s moans echoed through you, and you consumed them all. His answer was immediate, “More than the air that I breathe. Of course I love you, baby. I always will.”

You slid the knife from his hand and placed your hands against his chest, moaning loudly as you grinded harder against him. You threw your head back as Jay’s hands found your waist and slithered down to your hips, moving them faster for you. His brows twisted up into pleasure. Thoughts raced and scattered in your mind through the fog that came with being near Jay. Your rational mind was telling you that you only had one moment, one chance to get this right. But, your corrupted mind—the mind that was helping you feel such euphoria and warmth—told you to throw all your troubles into the fire and let it walk with you. You didn’t know which one to listen to and you were pulled between two worlds.

You and Jay’s body hit a pinnacle, and your rational mind told you that it was now or never. Quickly, your fingers wrapped hard around the knife at Jay’s chest and you slipped off of him. You passed through the last rays of daylight and ran towards the door. It didn’t take long for Jay to realize you weren’t on top of him anymore, even though every nerve in your being was screaming at you to climb back on top of him. When he sat up, he turned and looked at you heading towards the bedroom door with so much darkness that it sent something worse than a chill right down your spine. Your corrupted mind told you that you liked it, and maybe you did. You couldn’t tell anymore. Jay’s jaw hardened and the dark circles around his eyes just made his gaze appear even darker. “Get your pretty ass back here right now,” Jay’s gravelly voice says lowly.

A feeling rushes through you and you can’t describe what it is, but you know that it's from both fragmented sides of your mind. The ghost of a smile plays on your lips as your body stops on its own in the doorway. You turn and look at Jay as he gets up from the bed and slowly stalks towards you like you’re his prey. You swing back around just as he pounces at you and slam the door shut in his face, holding onto the handle so he can’t open it.

The adrenaline in you tanks, and the fear steps right into its place. Jay is much stronger than you, and the desperateness inside of him only intensifies that. He pulls more and more at the door, shouting at you to let him out. You still feel a little weak, and the last little bit of strength that you have is waning. “Stop!” you shakily breathe out. “Stop! Jay, just let me leave!” Immediately, you knew that was the wrong thing to say.

Jay flung the door open and you flew with it and right back into his arms. He tried to grab you, but you jumped back and held the knife up in your bloody hand. You backed up and Jay stalked forward, not even worried about the knife. “Please, just stop. You’re scaring me, Jay. You said that you never would again.”

“I’m protecting you,” Jay responded. Your mind flashed back to that strange reflection in the bathroom mirror. The reflection that wasn’t yours, but something more sinister. Its words slithered up your back and whispered into your ears, again. “I am a protector. Now, it’s too late to keep you safe.” The tears fell from your eyes.

You shook your head at him, holding the knife up higher. “The only danger here is you. What are you so afraid of?” Jay didn’t answer you, but he winced and held his head in his hand, his steps faltering. He kept shaking his head, like he couldn’t believe your words. “Do you understand what I’m saying?” you yelled at him.

“I’ll die without you,” Jay pushed out through winces. His voice was strained and all you wanted to do was wrap your arms around him and tell him that everything would be okay. “There’s nothing fucking left of me without you. Do you understand what I’m saying?” Jay pulled at his hair before looking back up at you. “Nothing. You’re the entirety of my being. The only reason why we keep ending up in this moment. You’re mounted on every wall inside of my mind.”

“We’ll both die in this damn house if you don’t let me go,” you cried out, the knife shaking in your hand as Jay drew closer. “If you don’t let me find a way to make you better, Jay.”

Jay grinds his jaw at the mere thought of you walking away from him and out that front door. He shakes his head at you, “Then we’ll die together.”

He lunged at you and you closed your eyes and swung the knife. It was still for a moment, and you slowly peeked your eyes open to see Jay peering down at the slash across his chest turning his shirt a darker color around where it was cut open. A sharp gasp escaped your lips and you covered it with your hand, holding the knife out again. Jay’s gaze flicked up at you through his dark lashes before he continued walking towards you. You swung the knife again, your body not letting you do more than surface level harm to him, and Jay just let you cut him open again and again. There was blood all over him, and his blood was splattered all over you. You couldn’t take it anymore, and just a couple paces from the door you let the knife clatter to the ground.

Jay hovered over you like a shadow as you cowered away from what you did to him. He placed his hands on your hips and steadied you from the way you swayed back and forth before gradually descending down your body and letting his hands caress your thighs. Jay grabbed the knife from the ground and made his way back up, his eyes never leaving yours. He used his other hand to remove the hand from your mouth. “It doesn’t hurt,” he says gently, holding your face and using his thumbs to wipe your tears. The knife glints in the light in the corner of your eyes. That feral look returns to his dark eyes. It’s such a stark contrast that it makes your head spin and your body sway more. It feels like you’re being tossed back and forth and you have no sense of direction anymore. You can’t tell what’s up and what’s down, so you let Jay do that for you.

The warmth of Jay’s body spreads throughout yours as he wraps his arms around you and holds you close. “It doesn’t hurt, baby,” Jay reassures you again, his head in the crook of your neck as he inhales your scent. He inhales again, sharply, as one of his bloody hands holds the back of your neck. You feel his tense body relax the more you surround his senses. Jay’s hand moves along your scalp before he’s grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling you away from him. You wince, bloody hands flying to your head to grab at his wrist, as Jay turns you and roughly pushes you back towards your shared bedroom.

Once you get inside, he slams the door shut behind him and you can hear it rattle against its hinges. Jay harshly pushes you onto the bed, letting go of his grip in your hair, and you whimper before turning to look at him from the edge of it. Jay’s wiping his blood off the knife onto his jeans when you crawl towards him on the bed and your fingers start fumbling with his belt. You pull it off, fixing your gaze up at him, just as he finishes cleaning the knife. The two of you are a literal bloody mess, but the desire in you burns hotter for him than your fear of what he’ll do next does. Jay pushes you back down onto the bed again.

Jay practically rips off his clothes all while greedily eating you up, blood and all. Your legs press together as the wet patch on your panties sends a chill through your body and grows larger with how much you want him in this moment. You back up towards the headboard and Jay follows you until his body completely covers yours. Jay grabs the rope that is still hanging from the headboard and you start to shake your head, pulling away, but he tugs hard at your arm and wraps the rope around your wrist anyway. He follows suit with your other hand until you are bound again to the bed. The sharp look that Jay gives you rings clear: You act out, you get punished.

He pulls you up so the rope tightens around your wrists and flips you around so your arms are crossed in front of you and your back is to him. A soft whine pours from your mouth, but Jay presses your face down into the mattress and muffles it.

Jay spreads your legs apart more with his knee and he grabs at your ass and spreads it apart too so he can see how wet you are from him that you’re drenching his favorite panties. He pulls them to the side, breath hitching at the sight, so he can get an unobstructed view. You wiggle your ass at him, the slick nearly dripping down your thighs, and you feel the cold metal of his knife press hard against your skin. It makes you moan and you arch your back for Jay more, letting him see how much you want him. You tried your hardest to look at him from your position, but all you get is a glimpse of the varied bloody slashes across his previously unmarred skin. The two of you were so filthy… but you couldn’t push down the feeling anymore of how much you were growing to like it.

The blade of the knife drags down your thigh and towards your wet pussy, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough so that you felt its cold sting. Jay drags it along his fingerprints that are bruised into your skin and he stops it right next to where you’re open for him like the prettiest flower. The very last ray of daylight struggles to break through your shut curtains, but it is ultimately smothered out by the darkness that is thrown over you and Jay like dark clouds. Your heart rate picks up at the lack of sight and Jay plays into it, tapping the knife against your skin to the tune of your heartbeat that you didn’t even know he could feel. Jay was attuned to you, you should know by now that he misses nothing. Your wet pussy flutters around the idea.

Instead of teasing you like he did before, Jay lines his cock up with your entrance and pushes himself inside you fully with no warning. You hit up against the metal headboard, the rope around your wrists tightening. Jay places one of his feet flat on the bed and he slowly pulls his cock out of you. His bloody hand grabs at the headboard in front of him and his other pulls your panties further to the side until it's digging into the plush skin of your ass as he then grabs at your hip, his nails digging into your skin. Jay thrusts into you hard and you gasp out a moan, walls already trying to tighten around him but forgetting how much his cock stretches you open, and you desperately hold onto the metal bars that your wrists are tied to.

Jay fucks into you like a wild animal, and each thrust sends the bed banging against the wall and makes the paint chip and peel off of them more. Every time you fly forwards, his hands dig into you and pulls you right back down onto his cock. The rope around your wrists is so tight from you trying to free yourself and touch him that it makes you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. Jay moans loud at the sound and he keeps at his relentless pace. There are tears flowing down your cheeks in the dark, and soft sobs pull from your throat between moans at just how good that it all feels. You flutter more around Jay before clenching down on him over and over, it drives him fucking insane. He ruts into you faster and you can feel him all the way up in your throat, taking your breath away once again.

You try to sit up and give your too-arched back a rest from how you’re being bent in half, but Jay takes his hand from the headboard and presses it against the back of your neck and holds you down again. He leans down onto you, his cock kissing your cervix and making you see stars in the darkness, as he brings his lips to your back and presses feather-light kisses there. Jay continues that for a while as you nearly break at the new angle his cock was fucking you at, until you feel his teeth graze along your skin near your shoulder. Without giving you a moment to breathe, Jay sinks his teeth into your skin and you let out something between and cry and a moan.

His warm tongue smooths over it and you can feel the heat that he injected into you from the bite. You could feel the blood bubbling up from it and you could hear Jay’s dreamy moan in your ear. It sends the two of you over the edge, and your vision goes white as cum splatters out of you from the way Jay stuffs his cock inside of you faster and faster. He stills with his hips pressed tight to yours, and you can feel his body shake as the pleasure rips through him—so much so that you don’t even notice the pleasure ripping through you too.

Jay’s hand wraps his arms around your stomach and he pulls you tight against his chest, his hard cock still inside of you as he slowly thrusts his cum further into your womb. Your wrists strain against the rope as you and Jay take in uneven breaths together. Your vision is still white around the edges, and your body falls limp back onto Jay’s chest as you tremble more. You feel Jay’s breath against your skin as he leaves open-mouthed kisses wherever he can access. The cold blade sneaks up your stomach and makes its ascent to your breasts. Jay presses his hand hard against your lower stomach and you feel his feral grin when he feels his cock fuck into you. He picks up the pace a little, and your head falls back onto his shoulder in another moan as you bear your neck to him.

Your breath hitches when the blade of the knife drags across your nipple. Jay toys with you as the knife lingers around it, the tip of it digging into your skin just enough for you to feel the sting. “Do you hate me?” Jay asks you in the darkness, the knife inches up your chest and digs into your skin a little harder. You feel your blood pool around the tip of the blade as you shake your head, gasping at the stinging pain. Jay leans his head against yours and you hear him slowly breathe out. He fucks into you a little faster and pulls more moans and whines from your lips. Jay brings the knife up your neck and presses it to your throat. You gulp against it and the pretty sound of his chuckle fills your ears. “I do. I hate me so fucking much. You should’ve dug the knife in when you had the chance to.” Jay glides the knife against your throat, chuckling more, back and forth. His thrusts quicken and his skin lewdly slapping against yours fills the silence in the room. “But, it’s too late for that now, baby. Isn’t it?”

Your head falls forward and pushes the knife further into your throat. You nearly choke on it as your fingers grab the headboard’s metal bars again and you moan loudly. Jay halts his movements and you whine his name. He leans into you and saws off the rope from the headboard, but leaves your wrists tied together. You immediately turn in Jay’s arms and press your lips to his hotly, moving your hips against as you fucked yourself on his cock. You whimper again as you come undone.

Jay runs his fingers along your scalp as he grabs your hair near the back of your neck. He bends your head back and kisses you hard. It’s another battle between the two of you, and your nails dig into his thigh as his knife digs more into your throat. You moan into his mouth, and Jay takes the chance to shove his tongue inside of yours. Jay’s hand at your stomach creeps up your body slowly and leaves goosebumps in its wake. Jay pulls your bottom lip back with his teeth. He breaks the previous wound there and blood slowly drips down to your chin. He laps it all up. “Do you love me?” Jay whispers slowly against your lips. The moonlight peeks through and illuminates the heinous act the two of you are committing, and you see your blood smeared across his mouth.

You nod your head. “I love you so much.”

Jay turns you around and his hand slides up your back to push you forward towards the headboard. Slowly, he pulls his cock out of you, moaning at how your body desperately tries to keep him inside. You feel his cum slowly drip down your thighs. He brings you back to him and turns you so you lay flat on your back on the bed. You open for him again, and Jay settles between your legs as he kisses down your chest. His tongue licks at your knife wound before his kisses farther down and molds your tits beneath his hands. He licks at your nipples too, sucking them for a moment and smiling against your skin when your back arches off of the mattress. Jay’s mouth unsuctions from them with a resounding pop, and he continues his open-mouthed kisses to your stomach.

He stops when he gets near the side of your belly button. “Say you’ll never leave me,” Jay breathes along the bruises marring your skin, kissing it again. You tell him that you never would, you’d tell him a million times over, and Jay’s teeth sink into your skin again. This time it’s more pleasure than pain when a moan rips from your throat and your blood pools in the markings of his teeth. Jay licks the pain away. He kisses down to your lower stomach and his breath fans over the way your pussy flutters for him. Jay stops for a moment, and you watch him lick the blood off of his lips as he stares down at your heat. “Say you’ll never leave me,” Jay repeats, his voice a whisper. You do. He brings his wet lips back down onto your thigh and sinks his teeth into your flesh again on the inside of it.

You knew what he was doing. In his twisted mind, he was laying even more claim to you. Nobody else would touch you with his teeth marks embedded in your skin, would they? It just further showed who you, who your body, belonged to—Jay. You didn’t have the energy to once again tell him that it would only ever be him, it would always be him. You just relished in the strange mix of pain and pleasure that settled deep inside you from the way he held you over the ledge and pulled you right back to his chest again. Jay licked at his teeth marks and the splatters of his own blood against your skin still. His DNA was spread and fucked into every part of you. There was no making your escape from him now. He was tethered to you.

Jay sat up and moved off the bed, pulling you with him by the rope at your wrists. He walked you to the bathroom and ran a hot bath. Jay turned back to you, and that dark, feral look in his eyes was starting to subside. There wasn’t any fog either, and a soft smile pulled at your lips. It was your Jay, again. Jay gently brought his lips to yours and you tasted the metal from your blood in his mouth. He pulled away from you a bit and his eyes caught something in the mirror. You looked over at his reflection, and Jay’s fingers brushed along the bloody teeth marks near your shoulder, careful not to hurt you further. You snuggled your head in the crook of his neck as you and Jay stared at each other through your reflections in the mirror. You listened to the sound of the rushing water filling the tub. “It doesn’t hurt,” you tell him, delicately.

“I’m sorry,” Jay whispers, his voice cracking, as he leans into your touch. You know that he means it.

The two of you get into the bath together, you laying against Jay’s back, and the soapy water slowly bleeds more and more a coppery orange. It was the soap that you always used, and you could tell that the scent of it eased Jay more. There’s a comfortable silence between you and Jay, the only thing that breaks through it occasionally being the sound the water makes when Jay’s hands rub comforting circles along your skin. You know he’s still thinking about the bruising and now all of the bite marks. You don’t mind them, not as long as they give you more time with him.

His fingers brush along his teeth marks on your stomach absentmindedly. Jay’s heartbeat started to pick up, and you knew that your time with him was coming to an end. “Do you love me?” Jay asked again in a quiet voice. You would tell him over and over until the end of eternity that you did, until he never had to ask you the question again. You turned in his arms and dragged your hands up his damp and slashed chest. Looking into Jay’s eyes, you pushed your hands up further and wrapped them around his neck. Jay’s eyes welled up as he stared at you with so much love that it was overwhelming after all of the darkness.

“I love you so much,” you told him in a whisper, your hands tightening until you could feel the way his heart hammered against the prison of his bones.

Jay’s hands cradled your face. “When this is all over, meet me up at the mountain.” The tears fell from his eyes and slid down his cheeks as his hands shook with insurmountable effort. “Please, forgive me,” was all he managed to shove between his lips before his shaking hands pushed your head underneath the water.

It was still dark when your eyes finally cracked back open. Flashes of memories pulled at your attention; Jay’s hands, your waning breath, the fogginess, him dragging the two of you out of the bath in a panic. The more you tried to remember, the more your head hurt and your body ached. You looked over to Jay’s side of the bed and found him fast asleep. There was at least something to be happy about. You were seriously worried about him and how much it seemed like he didn’t sleep at all when you did. You felt his breath on your skin and sighed softly in relief. Your hands were still tied together, but they weren’t tied to the headboard, and you were back in your bloody tank top for some reason but different panties that were also one of Jay’s favorites.

Jay’s hand was limply pressed flat against your chest where your heart beat. He must’ve fallen asleep feeling it against his skin to make sure you didn’t fade from him completely. You gently placed your hand over his, and it’s like your shattered mind finally snapped all of its pieces back into place. None of this was normal. The way your body… looked wasn’t normal. You and Jay just kept spiraling deeper and deeper into this false reality the two of you were trapped in together. You missed your happy and sunny life, where you would laugh at Jay’s gentle kisses along your skin and you’d run your hands through his hair. It’s like your world flipped upside down and you were witnessing the darker, more rotten side of it all hidden in the shadows that was never supposed to be seen.

Slowly, agonizingly, you moved Jay’s hand from your chest and rested it on the bed next to your shoulder. Even slower, and even more agonizingly, you slipped out of the bed. Your heart pounded against your ribcage so hard that you were sure it was going to wake Jay up, and fear chewed on you more. No matter how much you tried to free your hands from the rope that bound them, they wouldn’t break free. You looked around for Jay’s knife, but you couldn’t find it anywhere. You would have to get one from the kitchen. You glanced at Jay again, the moonlight casting along his skin and painting him pale blue. You marveled at how pretty he is, even with all of the darkness that was like an aura around him and the slowly closing wounds your eyes leered at.

You moved without watching your steps, and your foot pressed down on a loose floorboard and it creaked loudly under your weight. The sound was like a gunshot echoing through the air. Jay stirred in his sleep, and his hand reached out to your side of the bed. When his touch came back empty, he sleepily fluttered his eyes open. Jay looked around the bed, and you stood in front of the door wide-eyed and frozen like a deer. He trusted you not to run again, he even didn’t tie you to the bed this time, and you betrayed that trust. Your stomach churned and you felt so awful when Jay’s eyes scraped down the bed and finally landed on you.

“Why are you out of bed?” he asks you, voice still heavy with sleep. 

Your mind tells you to run, but your body—still tethered to him, freezes even more as it’s caught between what it knows it should do and what it wants to do. Your body knows it should swing on its heels and run as fast as it can out that door, but what it wants to do is crawl right back into the bed with Jay. So instead of choosing at this pivotal moment, you do nothing—you say nothing.

You watch as Jay’s eyes darken and you realize what version of him that you’re met with. Turning on your heels, you book it as fast as you can to your front door. Behind you, you hear the sound of the pocket knife flicking open. Jay must’ve had with him the whole time. You didn’t make it far when you were tackled to the ground. A sharp gasp is released from your mouth at the pain that explodes through your body. Jay rolls you on your back and you’ve never seen him so angry until his hand slips on the ground and his eyes flick down.

The anger on his face is gone as quick as it came and is replaced with immense horror. Your breathing becomes short and labored as your hand wraps around the handle of the knife lodged between your ribs. “No…” Jay trails off, his hands pressing against your wound to try and stop the rapid bleeding. “No, no, no, no…” His voice gets louder with each word, and it’s a pity that this will probably be the last time that you’ll ever see your Jay, even more so that the darkness left him right as the blood pools around your body. You grab onto the handle tight and pull the knife out of you with a grunt, and your arm falls into your spreading blood as the knife scatters across the ground. Jay panics even more, and he presses harder at your bleeding wound.

He takes you in his arms, spreading the blood all over your face as he cups your cheek, and he cries into your chest. “Why would you make me do this to her?!” Jay cries out. Distantly, in the back of his demolished mind, he hears a voice respond. “Why would you do that to her?! There’s nobody else here but you.” Jay cries even harder.

You bring your weak hand up to Jay’s face as your breathing comes out and short spurts and your eyes start to close. He looks at you through tears. “I-I… love you,” you gasp. “I’ll never leave.” Your eyes close, and you can hear Jay sobbing and begging you to stay with him. But, Sleep takes you so gently under its spell that you can’t resist.

Jay doesn’t know what to do, and cruelly, once your eyes close the darkness surrounds him all at once again. He doesn’t care anymore—why should he? You were gone and it was all his fault. Jay hoped that the darkness twisted and pulled him apart like a black hole for what he has done to you for all eternity. It was what he deserved, he knows that now. He wished that he could take it all back, but he knew that he couldn’t. This was the last time.

His mind stabs at him and reminds him where this all started, and through his haze of grief Jay binds your thighs and ankles together and to your wrists. He ever so gently picks your body up and takes you over to the garage door and towards the deep freezer. Jay manages to lift it, and he flinches back at the tally marks there. He breathes heavily as he tries to swallow around the sand and gravel in his throat as he gently lowers you down into the deep freezer and on top of all of the bottles of alcohol. Jay’s hands shake so hard when he grabs the freezer lid that the whole thing starts to judder. He looks away as he slams it shut. He couldn’t bear to look at you in there as he figured out his next moves.

For the next couple hours, Jay pulls on latex, bright blue medical gloves and he cleans the entire house from top to bottom. He gets into every nook cranny and every hidden corner and the whole house practically sparkles in the dim stovelight. His nose burns with the pungent smell of bleach, but he doesn’t care. Everything is clean now, everything is okay. The sun will come up and eventually he will feel the sunshine on his skin. Right?

Jay’s mind laughs in his face and your dead body flashes across his eyes. Jay nearly keels over and a sob wracks through him. What the fuck was he thinking? How inhumane was he to just dump your body into a deep freezer? It was you. Did he even love you as much as he claimed to? His mind laughs harder at him and pushes his most insecure and darkest thoughts to him. They all surround Jay and squeeze his body so tight that he can feel his bones cracking. Jay’s eyes land on the garage door no matter how much he tries to look past it. He barrels through the door and flings the freezer lid back open. You lay inside of it, almost peaceful with the rope around your wrists and the blood covering your body. A perfect, sleeping angel like you always were. Jay gently hooks his arms around you and pulls you out. You’re so cold, but there was still warmth to you that Jay could feel. He knew that he did. Maybe you weren’t dead yet like he initially thought. His stomach churns and coils more the more he thinks about you laying alive in that deep freezer, the cold surrounding you.

He brings you to the bed, and the two of you lay in it together as Jay holds you close. He swears that he can feel you growing warmer, so he refuses to let you go. That is… until his brutish mind laughs at him again and again and reminds Jay that you’re dead. And Jay sees the blood that stains the bed and covers him—your blood. Jay panics again and places you back in the deep freezer. His hands shake as his mind spins and gets dragged down even more. Jay’s eyes catch on the latex gloves and he rips them off, tossing them away from him.

Jay repeats this process for days. Sometimes, he swears he hears your voice calling out to him and he freezes, and he hears your voice rewind again like you’ve spoken out to him backwards. Or he’ll hear distant banging and he goes running back to you and pulls you back out of the cold.

He doesn’t remember the last time that he has eaten, and when he trails his fingers over the bite marks on your skin, his mouth waters. Jay remembers how sweet your blood tasted in his mouth, and he takes his blood-covered hand and hesitantly licks it. You were so, so cold. Surely, you wouldn’t mind, right? He could hold you inside of him and make you warm. You love him… Jay would let you do the same if the situation was reversed. He flicked his pocket knife open. He convinced himself that what he was doing was right and that he was helping you.

At first, Jay started by just carving little pieces of your flesh out of your skin. He would suck the blood out of them, and it would help him feel closer to you. Hesitantly, he would nibble on the chunk of flesh just to see. Then his hunger became all-consuming and he needed to feel you in his mouth again. Jay dared to take the first bite. He missed you so much, and in this way, the two of you could be together again. Right? Jay liked to think so. No, in fact, he knew so. This way, you’d be inside of him and he would carry you forever. You would be warm and safe, and all would be as it was. It made sense. It echoed his love for you. And Jay loved you so, so much. He nearly dropped himself on the same knife before his mind pulled him back and laughed more in his face. Now, Jay’s face was dripping in your blood as he chewed blithely.

Your blood dripped thickly down Jay’s neck as he moaned your name against the big chunk of flesh he carved out of you. He kissed and licked at it, his teeth nibbling at you before he dug his teeth in. You were just as sweet as always, and Jay smiled at your warmth, your hand caressing his face, and your heartbeat against his fingertips. Jay gaped at you with so much love as you laughed prettily for him and held your flesh back up to his mouth again. Jay’s mind suddenly snapped back into place and he looked down at you in the bed and the knife in his hand.

Jay flinched so hard that he fell backwards off of the bed. He chucked the flesh away from him as realization slaps him across the face and he knows now that he had already passed the point of no return. Your entire calf was missing, down to the bone. It hung from a thread to the rest of your leg and your foot was twisted oddly from where it was disjointed. Your body was still bound by rope and Jay was horrified. That wasn’t all. There was a chunk taken out of your hand and even more bite marks in your skin.

“I’m sorry,” Jay says in quiet horror as he looks over your body. He repeats his apology over and over again as he carries you back to the freezer, his body trembling. Jay kisses it along your frigid and blue skin when he cleans and strips your body and wraps you in the thick plastic, and he kisses it along your cold lips when he gently lays you down in the gravel and in the lake’s gentle touch. Jay couldn’t bear to just dump you in the water. If he could, he would stay with your body forever. He will never get the sound out of his head of him ripping your body from the deep freezer, the blood having flooded and frozen.

Jay was sloppy this time, too exhausted to hide anymore, and too enveloped in his grief as he loudly sobbed. He didn’t want to have to keep doing this anymore. He felt punished enough. The guilt consumed him and he didn’t want to keep seeing your dead body in his mind. Jay wanted you by his side again. He wanted to see your smile and hear your laughter and feel your warm touch along his dirty, vile skin. He wanted you alive. But, this was the price he was to pay for his actions.

Jay lays down by your body when the lake tenderly pushed you back to shore and he listened to the police sirens as he looked up to the dark, cloudy sky and watched the sunlight break through. The lake’s water tried to fill up in his lungs and drown him from the inside, but he didn’t move. The icy wind slashed across his face angrily, and it felt worse than the knife that was held against his skin. Nature bayed for blood, and Jay intended to give it.

The sheriff stands above him in petrified shock, and all Jay can do is stare up at him. Jay confessed to all of his crimes when the sheriff asked what was behind the hollow look in his eyes when he was brought to the interrogation room. He felt your presence in the back of the police car with him as they drove him back to the crime scene, and the tears fell from his eyes as he felt your cold hand gingerly lay on top of his. Jay leaned his head back against the seat as he felt your ghost climb on top of him and wrap your hands around his throat, tethered to him always.

 ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏  ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏   ͏  ͏ ͏͏ ͏  ͏ ͏   ͏͏ REBLOGS ◜◡◝ ASKS APPRECIATED!

✉️   ⦂   real ones got the title reference hehehehe~~ but omg i’ve been wanting to write the whole freezer bride trope/twin peaks inspired fic for so long now and i’m so happy that i was able to!! i just want to say that i actually need him sooooo fucking bad like i don’t even care if he’s crazy and eats people i need his evil ass… ME NEXT!!!! aaaa~~ this was the darkest fic that i’ve written thus far… i hope that you all enjoyed it hehe!! (๑´ω`๑)♡

𖥦 ﴾ 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 . . . 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ﴿ @innocygnet @ikeukiss @yvampyr @prkhaven @jaylaxies @ghstzzn @fangel @tyunningism @xylatox @whosserina @jellymochii @minaateez @riribelle @lvrs-street2mmorrow @sumsumtingz @baddestire @yingelics @everythingvirgoes @beomieeeeeeeeeeees @yooonjnng @solonenova @angelhyuka @hoonkishoe @dulcetnostalgia @nesquikluvr @intromortal @hoonstrology @beomgyus11

© faeyun - all rights reserved. do not repost on any social media or sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

Chapter 1: The end? Or the lackof. 

Darkness was always your friend, it engulfed your being, the depth of your soul with the warmth even mere humans couldn’t provide, something so utterly beautiful, something you couldn’t see, the quiet, the warmth, the loyalty that cradled you in stillness. 

A stray tear cascaded down from the crevice of your eye, streaming through the curved expanse of your cheek and dripping all over the velvet carpet laid below, the kind that muffled sound, even your sobs. It covered the entire penthouse floor—another purchase made in silence for a place too big for one, a place too big for yourself. 

“Merry Christmas,” you whispered into the window, pressed against the cold surface which seemed baptised with the water droplets forming, courtesy of the snow, which slicked the city in the shade of white, adding another bland vision through your cornea. 

No one answered. The silence pressing you back into the surface as a reminder that you were indeed alone, it was brutal, and worse, familiar. Money brings happiness they said, then where were your parents? Friends? A lover who you so desperately wished to replace the embrace of the darkness to something real, so raw? A heartbeat beside yours.

You turned around slowly, eyes grazing over the meticulously arranged space, the walls lined in rich charcoal silk, the carved moldings of the ceiling dipped in antique gold, each piece of furniture either vintage or custom made to tailor your taste. A museum, people say when they visit. A mausoleum, you thought.

You were most likely the only exhibit that still lived.

Passing through the hall, you stopped just to see the picture frame standing tall on the marble table. The photo of your family—if it could even be called that. A frame that hadn’t moved in the past year since you came here, like the people in it. Your mother’s tinted red lips were parted in a laugh far too wide to be genuine, your father’s hand resting too heavy on your shoulder. All of you dressed in black tie for a gala you didn’t remember, smiling for an audience that didn’t care.

You turned again, towards what you claimed to be the heart of your home, if it could be called that. Each step was muted by the velvet of the carpet, your movement turning into an illusion of some dream as your fingers mindlessly caressed the artefact you always carried with you—an ancient key, so elegantly engraved, yet it opened nothing you owned. 

To your left, the antique room sat sealed behind tall French doors.

You didn’t go in, you couldn’t, not tonight.

Your obsessions slumbered there peacefully, a wooden crucifix with a bloody split down its middle, a weeping angel bust with glass eyes, an 18th century mourning veil still faintly smelling of rosewater and rotten flesh. 

It was a collection of grief, the kind of grief people celebrated, framed in golden wrapped silk. Each product was valuable, as if the burden in them could be traded for money. 

Your feet didn’t stop there, not until you were standing in front of the big wooden door with the serpentine handle, your thick black coat hanging on the rack, almost like a relic—so dark and finely woven in Italy. You draped it over your shoulders, slipping your gloves on with no destination in mind. 

But something in the air had switched from the very second the frost teardrop splattered down to the carpet, it was as if someone breathed down on your neck, like a whisper from within the walls. 

You found yourself stepping out, into the elevator, down the echoing lobby, well decorated in shades of green and red, a few children bubbled with excitement with wrapped boxes in their arms.

“Where to, Miss?” your driver asked.

You hesitated, gulping down your emotions. The city was still wrapped in snowfall, painted in black and white till the bone. Every possible location—gallery, restaurant, hotel lounge—felt as hollow as the apartment you had just left, despite being so full of life, so full of humans. 

“I don’t know, just drive—somewhere,” you murmured to the suited man with greying hair.

And so he did, seamlessly guiding you through the colour flashes outside of the window, a celebration you couldn’t quite grasp, something so fulfilling for others yet an empty vessel for you, glass fogging up per second as you found yourself delving deeper into the heart of the city. 

You almost didn’t notice the sharp turn as the car veered into a slow stop, right over the cobblestone, near the entrance of a rusty iron gate that was wide opened, the appearance of the gate juxtaposing the liveliness inside the grounds. 

A carnival.

It was blooming up the grass like a childhood nightmare to you, grown not from joy but from something older, more terrible—decay dressed in ribbons, nostalgia strung with nooses, with the flashback of your parents abandoning you in the middle of the crowd, with a pathetic excuse of work calling. 

The lights flickered like fake stars, too yellow, radiating warmth, casting the ground in a sickly kind of glow. Music reverberated through the cold air—violins detuned, a carousel melody slowed to a dirge. You stepped out of the car with a hand to the frame, your gloved fingers pausing as you caught sight of your own reflection in the passenger window, eyes empty, dried lips, your face floating behind the few stray hairs that made their way upfront. You looked like someone who attended a funeral, which seemed fitting.

No one should have been here out this late, the clock nearing midnight, yet the place was full. Crowds of people passed by, too smooth for your vision for them to seem humane. Children laughed, but the sound was wrong—too jolly, too bright. Balloons hung from the strings, glossy and silent. The scent in the air was thick—caramel, popcorn, and smoke curling together like a spell brewing.

Your feet moved without any motive, their own consciousness dragging you through the murmurs of the crowd, above the snow clad cobblestone as the place unfurled around you in shades of red and gold. Joker masked men took over the place, entertaining and guarding each shop. 

Without notice, a girl with doll like features handed you a candied apple, the red dripping down the ground in a way that made you feel sick. With a tap, you paid for it before offering it to a kid who looked hungry. 

You walked past it all, as if on a mission you weren’t aware of, the mist guiding you through, near the alleyway behind the giant wheel which hadn’t stopped moving all night. 

Then you saw it. A tent. It was the only place draped with black, and roped with red stripes. It didn’t have any signs, just tarot cards hung around, adorning the place. 

It wasn’t a beckoning, just a feeling—a feeling that someone was calling out your name. 

You paused outside the tent, the velvet flaps gently shifting though there was no wind. A low warmth bled from within, curling at your covered ankles like a blissed sigh.

Without thinking twice, you ducked inside the tent, the air thickening as if you had entered another realm altogether. The scent of something ancient, even darker than your antique art room, a pretence of divine divination. 

Under the red candlelight, against the dark walls, you met with a woman, skin as if a dark parchment, hair as if silver threads, luring you right in as her gaze met yours. 

“You’ve taken your time, we’ve been waiting,” she said, hands kept on table, her voice stoic, no anger, no sweetness. 

“We?” You asked in a whisper, confusion taking over your face. 

She didn’t answer as the candlelight flickered above your head as you sat down on the wooden chair, which creaked with each movement. 

The table between you was covered in black cloth worn out from decades—no, centuries, so out of touch. Golden thread formed a circle at its center, symbols stitched in curling foreign shapes, as if it was a cult. Atop it rested a deck of tarot cards, the edges frayed, the backs patterned in thorned roses.

The woman’s fingers moved, almost inhumane with how fast she shuffled the deck, portraying something simply inevitable.

Within a second, you had three cards laid in front of you, pressed face down, before she turned the first one over. 

“The past.” She murmured. 

The card read out Death in big, bold letters. 

A shiver travelled down your spine as your eyes assessed the figure of a skeleton, adorned with roses, seemingly half alive, but at what cost?

Her voice dropped an octave, “you’ve mourned things that are still breathing. But death doesn’t care about the soul ascending to hell or heaven, does it?”

Your lips parted in hopes of finding an answer, but she spoke nothing short of truth. Your parents? Alive but dead to you. Your friends? Barely one caring for anything other than your money. No existence of love, a true one at least. A dull ache curled in your chest with the card being taken back. 

Not even a second later, the second card was being turned around to reveal Collector. 

A massive figure seated on an antique throne adorned with jewels from top to legs, background filled with broken doll heads, and clocks of shapes you didn’t even know the names of. 

It was clear, the words echoing present through and through, your nails digging into your skin with the accuracy and abnormality of the given situation. 

“Collecting pieces long forgotten? Safekeeping them, when in reality no one intends to return to them.”

You felt as if the words were being carved into your bones, “you were made to be adored, but you’re caged in cruelty now.” She continued, “abandonment that leaves you searching for empty pieces.”

You were parched, each word acting like a truck of truth, hitting you over and over again, and it was only a second of silence as the last card was being flipped, as if awakening someone, something, into existence. 

A doll. That’s what the third and the last tarot card said, the image on it striking something primal in you; especially when you laid your eyes on the white porcelain doll, way too delicate for this world, carved into perfection of some sort, clad in a dark suit. He was perfect. Cheekbones high and blushed, lips blood red, glowing, and eyes? Closed in peace, in wait. You tore your eyes from the card the second you felt something burning on your wrist. 

A red thread, something you hadn’t worn before entering the stall, something that resembled exactly the threat around the doll’s wrist. It wasn’t silk, or cotton, it was something old, almost like a crimson fibre. 

The women didn’t blink, didn’t show any hint of emotions this time, “you’ve been chosen.”

You breathed out, waiting for her to elaborate. 

“He’s been waiting, he didn’t summon you, he chose you. It was when you were ten, in this life, he fell in innocent love all over again, the same place, the carnival.”

Her eyes weren’t moving, goosebumps rose up your skin at the mention of the carnival, the same carival which you visited with your parents, the same, which taught you abandonment years ago, the place you were at right now. 

“Who’s he?” You croaked out. 

“He saw you entering, the innocence long gone, now he craves, he desires your love.”

Your heart thumped out of your chest at the mere mention, the slight possibility of someone wanting you. 

“Where’s he?” You asked before you could control yourself, the words, the mannerism almost foreign to you. 

The women’s lip twitched up for the first time, the darkness highlighting the curve, before she snapped her fingers, making everything go dark as you stood up, stumbling back with a gasp, and right out of the tent. 

It was snowing again, the bustle of the crowd, the cheers of the children. The world was bright again, even in the darkness, but you were hollow, the thread burning around your wrist every passing second, as if in a rush to convey a message. 

You weaved through the crowd, past fire breathers and jugglers, past children squealing over marionettes—you yourself felt like one as past a the thread pulled eastward, toward the quieter edge of the carnival. You didn’t ask questions anymore. You just followed.

It didn’t feel real, just a dream with no end. And then, you saw it—tucked between two towering, crumbling buildings was a narrow, glassed storefront you hadn’t noticed before. You would have missed it entirely if not for the thread tightening against your skin, humming now with warmth. A wooden sign hung above the door, painted in fading gold. 

The Chiller House: Antiques and souvenirs. 

The windows were clouded, frosted even from the inside, yet you could faintly make out the silhouettes of laces, dolls, relics you couldn’t identify. The floral vines covered the sign which sat atop the door. 

Binded with love, caged with obsession. 

You stared at the sign, heart knocking against your ribs. You had a soft spot for antiques—always had. Things that had lived lives before you. The scent of old paper and polished wood. The way broken toys still smiled, even your room back home looked more like a museum than a bedroom. The past always felt warmer than the present, safer, even when it wasn’t.

A brass bell chimed in peace as you stepped inside, it was like a time capsule bound together. Display cases brimmed with forgotten artifacts—cracked porcelain faces, jewelled gloves, pressed flower letters that looked like they’d crumble at the slightest touch. The scent of cedarwood and dried rose petals filled the air, however, the room wasn’t musty, it was preserved. 

You twirled around the empty store, feeling alive for the first time in months, staring at your reflection in an ornate vanity mirror, before stepping behind the curtain, into a room which was dim, but not enough to hide him. 

A single glass coffin in the corner of the room, as if meant to be hidden from the world. Lit from below by a single, flickering bulb, the coffin glowed like an altar. And within it—he looked too perfect to be real. A life sized porcelain doll, mouth barely parted as if sighing in sleep. His skin was smooth, pale with a bloom of warmth on the cheeks, and his lips painted a colour of warm red. 

Blonde curls falling over his forehead, his suit was tailored in black, lapels stitched with gentle thorns, the collar closed neatly with a thin crimson ribbon. A matching red thread circled his porcelain wrist—identical to the one still burning on your own. 

He was so delicate, exquisite personified, crafted so meticulously, it almost felt like a sin to be staring at him. You didn’t realize you were moving till your palm rested on the fogged glass. 

“You’re not supposed to be here,” a voice called out, jolting you out of your trance. 

You turned around quickly to see the shopkeeper—a woman older than time itself, dressed in a black shawl with hazel eyes that gleamed like a summer storm. She didn’t sound angry, but tired. Like she’d been here before, like she’d seen this play out before. 

“I—why? Isn’t he for sale?” You asked. 

“He’s not for sale.”

“But why? This is a shop and he’s a doll,” you asked again, desperate to understand. 

Her gaze didn’t falter, “he’s not just a doll, and this isn’t just a shop.”

Today has been confusing, but this? It was way par your usual understanding. Not a doll? Not just a shop? It was as if you were bleeding into the thin crack between dream and reality. 

“I want him,” you repeated like a broken record. 

Her eyes flickered down to your wrist in a scowl, before she gasped, demeanor doing a one eighty, “I see, so it’s happened.”

“What has?”

She didn’t answer, walking past you to the coffin, brushing the gold plated oval, depriving it of the dust that had settled there over the time. 

Jungwon—the engraved text read out, a name as pretty as the face. 

“I’ll pay anything,” you declared, as if he would cease to exist if you don’t get him, if you don’t keep him preserved with you. 

“Anything,” she echoed, “everything,” she confirmed.

You stared at her, wondering if this was yet another tactic used to get a higher price for a certain possession, to quantify the amount of desperation one can behold. 

Still, she didn’t answer you directly. Instead, she moved around the coffin, unlatching locks you hadn’t even noticed until now—iron clasps, rusted, something that creaked with each movement. Not the lid, never the lid, just the base. Preparing it for transport.

“You’ll take the whole thing,” she started, as if telling you the rules. “Don’t try to lift the glass. Don’t remove the thread. And no matter how much you want to—don’t open the coffin before the onset of new year.”

“How much?” you asked, breath catching in your throat with newfound warmth blooming up your chest. 

She paused her slow movements, scribbling a figure on a torn piece of parchment and handed it to you. Her fingers were cold and dry, like paper itself.

The number was beyond the point of absurdity, a cost that screamed sacrifice, not currency. More than what a doll should be worth, if it was just a doll that is. 

You got your card out without a second thought. It was all you had, a price you got for having the ever so absent parents. She nodded, as if she expected you to say yes regardless of the circumstances. 

“Handle with care, he’s—he’s more fragile than he appears to be,” she murmured, “alas, don’t forget the rules.”

You nodded, fingertips quick to call, informing your driver to pick up the coffin, the brass bell chiming as you stepped out of the Chiller House. Your eyes followed him, throughout the journey. 

All while not knowing that your red thread had disappeared. 

Chapter 2: In the name of love. 

The glass clinked under the brightness of the chandelier, a voice that reminded you much of cages. 

Especially here, at the HYBE Plaza, where every corner shimmered with the festive celebration of New Year’s eve. And yet, not a single thing about this night felt new.

You sat at the long table draped in glitter, surrounded by people who wore their smiles like fake masks. Your parents sat two seats away, laughing for appearances, eyes always glancing sideways. Your fiancé, Jaemin, their choice, sat beside you with a hand on your chair, a smirk evident on his face, the usual routine for him. 

“You barely spoke a word tonight,” he accused, “this night is important.”

“To whom?” You stared into space, fingers playing with the red threads of the table cloth. 

He sighed, a vein popping out with the anger he couldn’t control, “to your family—to my family, to me.”

“The contracts, you mean? The exchange of money for souls, ah? Is that what I was raised for?”

Your fiancé shifted uncomfortably beside you, but his grip on your chair only tightened as he leaned in, teeth clenched. “Don’t do this here.”

“Where should I do it then?” you asked, still not looking at him, “at the altar? In bed? Over brunch with our mothers while they plan the next generation of heirs to ruin?”

He inhaled sharply. “You’re being unreasonable.”

“No,” you replied, turning your head at last, eyes sharp, the chandelier above caught in your eyes like fractured glass. “I’m being honest. You should try it sometime.”

“Sweetheart, maybe you need a breather, want me to walk to the balcony with you?” Your mum breathed out in her sugar dipped voice, almost embarrassed at the way you clearly worded what they’ve been doing all this while. 

“Where was this sentiment when it was my birthday, mother? Perhaps you were too busy to remember? Right, father?” You said, eyeing both, who looked rather embarrassed at your outburst, almost piercing them with the serum of truth. 

Truth that you were their daughter, a human, not an investment or doll, by any means—something that they’d been overlooking all this while.

You didn’t wait for a reply. 

The chair’s legs scraped against the marble like a declaration, loud enough to silence the violins. A hush rippled through the room. Your mum’s painted smile flickered, your father’s eyes narrowed with the slow cruelty of a man too long accustomed to control, however, you kept walking.

When the elevator doors slid shut behind you, the last thing you saw was your mother clutching her pearls, tears glistening her eyes, as if she finally realized a tinge of the hurt she’s caused you, but not a way to make it better. 

Winter had returned to the city like a storm—snow falling not gently, but rather, in solemn sheets. The chauffeur said nothing as he opened the car door. He didn’t dare, not when you looked stoic. 

All you remembered from the car ride was the flashes of colours, the scenery collapsing into an abstract piece too bright for your taste. The lift carried you into warmth in utter silence, juxtaposing the kids in the lobby, way too enthusiastic to celebrate new year. 

The penthouse greeted you with the familiar hush of years long curated wealth. It smelled faintly of roses and marble, of nothing real. The chandeliers stayed lit, as if unaware the girl who lived beneath them had shattered hours ago.

You walked in without removing your heels, only leaving them midway on the velvet of the carpet as your legs started to wobble, as if uncertain if you should be standing anymore or not. 

By the time you reached the bathroom, your fingers could barely unhook the back of your gown. Your body trembled from exhaustion, you peeled the dress off your skin as if it were a second one—a shell of who they wanted you to be, and let it fall in a puddle on the heated tiles.

The water scalded your skin, but you didn’t move, you stood beneath the stream like something carved from grief, arms hanging limp at your sides, head bowed. The steam curled around your body, trying to hold you together, but nothing could. Not tonight.

Your sobs were quiet—choked, too exhausted to echo in the grand bathroom. They slipped past your lips like secrets, buried in the hiss of falling water. You sank slowly to the floor, knees folding, cheek pressed to the cold marble. You stayed there until your fingers numbed and wrinkled.

Eventually, you rose, wrapping yourself in a robe, barely bothering to dry your hair, and stepped into the dim corridor, the lights flickering faintly above. The silence of the penthouse felt sharper now—closer. The velvet underfoot muted your steps as you passed gilded mirrors and untouched heirlooms.

Wrapped in a white robe, you drifted down the corridor, dripping steadily down your spine, leaving a trail of water. The chandelier above the foyer flickered gently behind you, casting your shadow down the hallway like a second self.

You opened the bedroom door, the air inside was chilled from neglect, the heavy curtains still drawn shut from earlier that morning. The only light came from the candle you must have forgotten to snuff—its flame dancing beside the mirror, golden and low.

And in the corner of your room, against the rich velvet of the carpet, rested the glass coffin, the one you had brought home, the one that hadn’t left your mind since.

You walked toward it slowly, your bare feet cold now, trembling slightly as you approached. Your wrist burned as you knelt beside the coffin. Your hands found the smooth edge of the glass lid, fingers hesitating, remembering the warning from earlier, what the shop owner said. 

Don’t open it before the onset of the new year.

It wasn’t new year yet, you were five minutes short of time, of patience. 

What would even happen? It’s just a doll, a pretty piece of porcelain, something you pondered about for the next four minutes. 

Your fingers curled tighter around the latch, “I can’t wait,” you mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

With that, you unlatched the coffin door, and as you did, the sharp corner of the coffin caught your hand, causing a sudden, precise sting.

You flinched, hissing softly, watching as a bead of blood gathered at your fingertip—round and dark, like ink waiting to stain something sacred.

Before you could think, it slipped, fell down, right onto his slightly parted lips.

The moment it touched him—the first firework exploded beyond the window, a bloom of sound and colour cracking through the silence. The sky lit up in gold, and then another, and another—an orchestra of celebration for a world that had nothing to do with the one unfolding here, the celebration of new year beyond your room. 

When you looked back, the blood was gone, disappeared. You wondered if he had a crack, a hairline in his mouth, letting the blood seep through, or it actually disappeared. 

Your hand reached beneath him, slow, cradling him once more—arms beneath his back and knees, lifting him gently from the coffin. The robe slipped further down your shoulder, forgotten. His weight pressed into you softly, the fabric of his suit warm against your chest as you carried him across the room, he was heavy, heavier than any porcelain should have been. 

The fireworks continued behind the curtains, echoing against the window panes like distant thunder. But inside your bedroom, it was just you. Just him.

You laid him down on the bed, carefully—pillowing his head, smoothing the lapels of his suit, brushing your trembling fingers once across his cheek as if to confirm he was still there.

Then you joined him, sprawling over the silk sheets, eyes blank as they stared into the plaster of paris perfectly sculpted into the ceiling. 

Your hand reached out blindly until your fingers brushed his, cold and delicate beneath the satin glove. You held it like it might tether you to something real. 

“I don’t know how to be normal anymore,” you whispered into the dark, voice hoarse from crying. “I’m always pretending, every fucking room I enter, every dress I wear—it’s like a costume. A fucking mask, and no one ever sees what’s underneath. I’m not even sure I do.”

You turned your head, breath catching as your eyes landed on him. He didn’t look human, he looked like an angel. 

Lips parted the faintest bit, lashes long and still, his face peaceful in the way the world never allowed you to be. You watched him, tears welling again, cascading silently down your cheek.

“I’m so tired, I only see red, no blacks and whites.” You sighed, as if curving into the madness of what the world put you up with, “you’re beautiful,” you mumbled, fingers tracing the outline of his lapel, the thorn-stitched embroidery catching against your nails. The silk beneath was soft, too soft—like skin meant to be kissed.

“It must be nice, being a doll, a real one with no feelings, just plush beauty, and stillness,” you whispered, his eyes shining with an understanding, a glint that shouldn’t be seen in the non living creatures. 

It wasn’t just grief now—it was like vertigo. That hollow, high feeling that came when you’d fallen too far and realized there was nothing left to crash into? You’d hit the bottom. The absolute, ridiculous bottom. And here you were—wanting to kiss a fucking doll.

You crawled toward him slowly, silk dragging behind your thighs, breath hitching. Every inch you moved across the mattress felt like a climb up the hill, a ritual of some sort, of great importance.

Your knees slid to either side of his hips. You climbed on top of him like sin climbs onto innocence, soft and slow, an angel falling .

You shouldn’t be doing this, you knew that, and still, you sighed into relief as you cupped his face between trembling palms, his skin was porcelain, yet it wasn’t cold.

It had taken on warmth—not humane, but something subtler, as the sun shone warmly on the sealine, almost a personification of liveliness of a peculiar sort. 

You leaned down slowly, your breath catching in your throat. You didn’t realize how hard your heart was beating until you were so close to him you could hear the soft rasp of your own blood roaring behind your ears. 

“Everyone hates me,” you whispered, your voice inhumane, lacking warmth. 

Your finger traced the curve of his reddish porcelain cheek, perfect, “gosh—would you hate me too?” You asked like a child talking to a wall, expecting no answers in return. 

He only listened, attentive and polite, brown eyes staring into yours like an emotional support anchor, “I’m insane, I’m so insane, I,” you breathed out, chest heaving up with your face tilting in a fashion that if you’d bend down a smidge, you’d touch him, “keep me safe, even if it’s for a night.”

With a sharp intake of breath, you slotted your lips onto his, the act purely devastating, trembling against the solid, unmoving porcelain, clinging onto a kiss that gave you nothing physical in return, just pure warmth blooming in your chest.

Your lips parted over his, opening wider, messier—tongue barely brushing his, knowing there was no true warmth to meet it but needing it anyway, making you whimper and push down into his lap. The silence scorched you, it bloomed in your chest like fevered devotion.

The kiss turned wetter, more obscene, your hips rolling over his waist as your tears began to fall—again. You gasped through them, mouth open against his, panting.

“I just wanted someone to want me,” you sobbed, forehead resting against his, “is that so wrong? Is that so—fucking wrong?”

Your bathrobe had fallen open completely by now, the fabric slipping off your shoulders like silk cloth, exposing your bare chest to the cold, to him. You didn’t care, you wanted him to see. You wanted to press every part of your ruined body to the hollow sculpture of his form and pretend it meant something. Your thighs clenched around his tiny waist, your hands fisted in his jacket, still kissing him like a girl who believed enough could bring back the dead.

There, atop a doll who could not hold you back, half-naked, tear-streaked, heartbeat trembling like a loose violin string—you finally slept, not peacefully, but possessively.

And watched. 

He always did. 

Chapter 3: I see your heart is pure. 

Fingers trailed down your chest, not cold, not glass smooth.

It was flesh, real human touch. 

You inhaled sharply, the sound catching somewhere between your ribs and throat. Your breath hitched again as one fingertip circled your tits—tentative, like he was trying to remember it. The pad of a thumb brushed over your nipple, coaxing a shiver so deep it left your spine tingling.

You opened your eyes, the room was cloaked in shadows and gold. Velvet curtains half drawn, a single candle burning, but you didn’t question the shift. You didn’t ask where you were or what time it was, because he was there.

Jungwon.

Seated beneath you on the mattress, half clothed in his black suit, his blonde hair tousled like he’d just woken from the same need that drenched your body. His brown eyes were wide and almost fevered, pupils dilated as if he was starving.

His hands slid down the curve of your body, making you gasp quietly as they touched your bare skin, your robe had fallen open long ago, exposing you to him, thighs spread without any shame, not here. 

“Jungwon,” you breathed, unsure if it was a plea or shock. 

He looked up from where he sat between your legs, lips parted, gaze locked onto your core like he was watching something beautiful unravel. 

“You’re soft,” he whispered.

His voice sounded carved from candle smoke and shadow. Soft, velvet lined in some way. It felt like it was coming from inside you, like something whispered to your soul rather than your ears.

You parted your lips to respond, but your words didn’t come as he bent down, mouth ghosting the inside of your thigh, not touching where you needed him but still close, so close. 

A low whimper was all you managed to let out, making the pretty man smirk, a gentle dimple gracing his innocent face, that didn’t harbour a single innocent thought inside of him. 

He licked once, just beside your cunt, not quite there. A warm, wet trail that made your body twitch.

“Please,” you whispered, fingers threading into his hair, tugging gently.

His mouth was so close you could feel it—not just heat, but presence. As though the very idea of him had weight. His lips hovered just above your cunt, parted, exhaling breath that couldn’t possibly exist. He didn’t move—just stared up at you with that hollow devotion, like your worship was the only thing he’d ever known. 

You moaned, soft and broken, hips lifting instinctively. His lips barely brushed you, just a flicker—when suddenly the entire world fell out from under you.

You jolted awake with a harsh breath. 

It was a dream. 

The second you tried to sit up—you gasped, to be pulled back gently by the weight of a hand around your waist. Not accidental, not your imagination. It was real.

You felt a shiver going down your spine. His arm draped around you even though you hadn’t moved him by any means. It was the same doll who once lived in a glass coffin, now lying behind you, cradling your body like a lover who refused to let go. His fingers splayed just below your ribs, unmoving but perfectly placed, as if sculpted for the sole purpose of holding you through the night.

Slowly, you guided his hand away, his arm dropping without resistance, gently settling beside him on the sheets, lifeless, as if nothing had ever happened.

But it had, you knew it had.

Your legs wobbled as you stood. The room felt colder now, like whatever warmth had been there with you had sunk back into porcelain. Into silence. You didn’t dare look at him as you crossed the room, bathrobe clinging to your body with sweat and shame, thighs still aching with want. 

Your skin was glowing in the reflection you saw of yourself, standing in front of the bathroom mirror, before you stepped into the shower, getting ready for your godforsaken uni. 

By the time you got to campus, the city had woken up but barely breathed, snow melted in streaks across the pavement, students milled about like ghosts of themselves, laughter thin. 

You met your friend near the steps—Karina, too bright for this weather, a paper cup of coffee steaming between her hands.

“You came to class on a bank holiday?” She asked, raising a brow, “should I be worried that you’ve final-fucking-ly lost your last marble?”

You smiled thinly, “I just needed to be somewhere—uh, not alone.”

She nudged your shoulder gently, knowing about your family problems, “rough night?”

You swallowed, not maintaining eye contact for once, “is it weird,” you began, voice low, “to want something that’s not, uhm, human?”

She stared at you, caught off guard, “what? Like a celebrity crush weird or maybe a serial killer weird?”

You didn’t laugh, not when you felt this way.

“I mean actually—feel something for it,” you clarified, “something not alive. Something you know isn’t real but—”

You cut yourself off before the words but it touched me could fall out.

Karina tilted her head, “okay, hold on, babe. Are you into one of your artifacts or something?” She teased, half laughing, not serious about the situation at all, “you’re really committing to your collection, I see.”

The second she saw you not laughing, staring at the ground as if you wanted it to swallow you whole, her tone dropped, “babe, you can’t be serious—wait, seriously? Y/N—”

“I have to go,” you whispered, grabbing your bag tighter as you walked away, ignoring the echoes behind you. 

The cold air outside did little to numb the burn still clinging to your skin. It felt as though your body hadn’t fully left the bedroom, like some part of you was still trapped under the weight of him—those porcelain arms, those parted lips, that impossible stillness that somehow kept watching. The memory of it clung to you as you crossed streets and waited through red lights without seeing them, breath ghosting in front of you with every hurried exhale, and by the time you reached your apartment, you were shaking.

Inside, the silence greeted you first, then the sudden burst of warmth.

Not the artificial kind piped through radiators, something richer, something fuller, as if the space had been lived in while you were gone. You turned your head toward the bedroom and froze.

The glass coffin hadn’t moved—but its contents had. Jungwon lay just as you’d left him, and yet his body was no longer the same, his head was tilted toward the doorway, ever so slightly, lips were still  barely parted, but they appeared softer now, not rigid with ceramic but plush, almost flushed. The light caught on his skin differently—as if it had deepened in tone. No grey undertones, but something dangerously close to human. His chest rose faintly, or maybe you imagined it. Maybe you had to.

You stepped closer before your brain could warn you otherwise. The air felt heavier around him. The scent was no longer just cedarwood and dust but warmer, enough to make you shiver in anticipation. 

Don’t open the coffin before the onset of new year.

The voice echoed through your mind, your greed had gotten the better of you, and you didn’t have the slightest clue of the consensus, never having asked the owner about it, her word was final—yet you resorted to disobedience. 

It was hard to figure out where you were meant to be with how often you escaped from places, soon staggering into the Carnival after a silent car ride. It was still there, the rusted iron gates, the music bustling, children laughing. 

You walked fast, passing the clowns with their painted smiles, past the fire breathers, and carousel horses locked in crooked gallops. Your breath came quick and hot now, fogging in the air like you were being hunted.

And then you turned the corner, to where it had been, The Chiller House, gone. 

No dark striped tent, no artefacts, there was nothing, not even footprints. Just untouched snow and a lingering emptiness, a strange dead zone between booths. The kind of space you noticed only because it shouldn’t be empty. 

Only, your wrist burned where the red thread had once been, as if tugging you, as if controlling you. 

As if, you were a marionette. 

Chapter 4: My sacrifice. 

Dim lights surrounded you, black silk draped over your body in an elegant ballroom dress, only, the dress was bunched around your waist as you sighed softly, laid on a long table. 

Your breath came light, dazed. You weren’t bound, but your body refused to move. Not from fear—something else. 

The figure between your thighs moved slowly, Jungwon.

He knelt before you like he was praying. His blonde curls shining in the flicker of dying candlelight, casting a halo around a face too angelic to be real. His eyes met yours once before descending again, gaze dripping down your body like melted gold, like hunger dressed in devotion.

You whimpered as his mouth pressed into your inner thigh like a kiss of worship, porcelain lips gone warm, alive somehow. You didn’t know how you knew it, but you knew, he’d waited to taste you for centuries.

When his tongue finally touched you, you gasped, spine arching off the table in instinct, in need. The room didn’t echo, it swallowed your sound. Your moans melted into velvet as Jungwon held you still.

His hands were delicate but firm, cool at first, then warm, his tongue moved in slow, curling drags, like he was learning you, memorizing you. Every breath against your cunt was a confession. You heard your name whispered into you—not from his mouth, but from your bones.

“Missed you, waited for you all these years, hm—mine,” he mumbled mindlessly, prettier than ever, speaking like a true lover. 

His mouth never stopped, kissing your clit with need, flattening his tongue as if he needed to taste you in order to stay alive, as if you were the oxygen he needed. 

Your body trembled as he groaned into you, eyes rolling back, the familiar feeling of your high coming had you moaning, it was so close, just another flick of his tongue, yet the second his lips touched your cunt, you swore you saw the world collapsing. 

Then, a gasp.

You woke up breathing hard. It was yet another wet dream, however, it felt real, as if you’d lived it before, thighs leaking with your wetness, which had pooled down your cunt. 

Jungwon laid beside you, exactly in the position from last night, after you came home trying to find the chiller house, but to no avail. Pondering upon it didn’t work, which is why you found yourself next to him, telling him about your day as if he’d asked you to. 

As unnatural as it felt, he brought you peace, a sense of belonging, enough for you to forget that he’s a doll, enough for you to fall asleep in his arms, only to dream of him for the second night in a row. 

You looked his way, wondering how his lips looked softer now, hair more tousled than before, lashes longer, nothing seemed artificial anymore. Was your mind playing tricks on you? Or did he truly look more human now, even more so with a tiny drop of moisture on his lips—as if he had tasted you, not in the dream, but reality. 

“Just what—who are you?” You whispered, tracing the curve of his cheek, plush now. 

He was captivating, so utterly beautiful, you found yourself leaning in, pressing your lips upon his in a slow fashion, warmth blooming over again. There was no reciprocation, no movement, just you with your frantic breath as you pulled back. 

You stared at him, eyes tracing every shadow of his face. Something about him had shifted again, not in posture, not in expression—those remained still, but in presence. He no longer felt like an object in the room, but the very gravity of it. The space bent around him. 

You should have been disturbed.

Instead, you reached again, cupping his cheek, thumb brushing the edge of his mouth. The drop of moisture was gone now, but the memory of it ghosted against your fingertip. It was real, you knew it in your bones that something was changing.

The sharp shrill of your phone shattered the moment. You sighed, reaching toward the nightstand, vision blurred by the dissonance between this world and whatever realm you’d been slipping into beside him.

It was an unknown number.

You answered with a whisper, “hello?”

At first, only static crackled through, then a voice—breathless.

“Y/N? I—It’s your fiancé.”

You didn’t speak, your lips had forgotten how, you listened further, ex fiancé you wished to say. 

“There’s been an accident,” he continued, the words heavy in his throat, “It’s Jaemin. He—he crashed his car, it might be serious. you should come.”

You didn’t speak for a few seconds, heart rate rising up, “how?” you asked, voice low.

“They’re not sure,” your father answered. “There was no ice on the road, no other driver, no brake marks at all. It was like the car veered itself off the highway and straight into a barrier.”

Your free hand tightened where it rested on the edge of the mattress. Jungwon remained still, perfect and innocent in his silence, but your eyes locked onto his again—and something in your chest bloomed in dread and awe alike.

He had looked at you differently, earlier. Just before your dream, as if he’d been listening and he understood. 

You ended the call without another word, the phone slipped from your hand to the bed with a dull thud. And then, slowly—almost afraid of your own confirmation—you reach for Jungwon’s hand, sliding your fingers between his.

“Did you—?” You asked, gulping, “this can’t be, maybe I am going crazy,” you whispered to yourself. 

Completely missing the curve of his lips, a ghost of a smile, warm and satisfying. 

Chapter 5: Lock and key. 

Home felt warmer than ever, which was a foreign feeling to you, granted your own heart was cold. However, it was as if some sort of magic had been sprinkled through your penthouse, it was brighter, your fingers twitching each time you neared your bedroom. 

Madness crept in gently. You found yourself smiling at him—Jungwon, speaking to him with tenderness usually reserved for lovers in candle lit portraits, and lord, worse, you meant it. Even the kisses now felt familiar, the kind you give to someone you’ve missed for lifetimes.

So you left. You needed to be out, carrying your emotional support key to fiddle with, mindlessly so, as you found yourself roaming around where your favourite antique store had been, the storefront looked the same as always, stained glass glistening in the sun, the door carved in spirals like vines curling around the door.

After a few minutes of pondering upon which new piece you could get, your eyes landed on a small wooden crest at the very back of a velvet lined shelf. You picked it up without thinking twice, shivering as you felt the same material as that of your comfort key, which rested warmer than ever in your pocket. 

You bought it in silence, not even bothering to ask its origin. Some objects are meant to be answers, not questions, and when you stepped back into the cold daylight, it wasn’t the antique shop you remembered—it was something older. A feeling curling at the base of your spine.

You didn’t go anywhere else, rushing home, boots echoing sharply on marble floors, coat clutched tighter around you, the crest now held to your chest like a relic. The moment your bedroom door opened, Jungwon was there—exactly where you’d left him, laid beautifully among the folds of your sheets, framed by candlelight you didn’t remember lighting.

His gaze, as always, was half lidded and still, but you felt watched, or rather, held in an embrace. You sank beside him, heart too loud in your ears, and slowly, your fingers reached for the key in your pocket. You’d never understood why it meant so much to you—it was always just a key, until now. Until it began to pulse softly against your palm in the presence of the crest.

You brought both items together. The second the base of the key met the carved sun and moon wood, there was a click. The crest opened like a locket, splitting from the middle in a flowerlike spiral.

Inside, there laid a folded page, yellowed with time, edges charred as if it had barely escaped a fire, you lifted it, hands trembling, ignoring the other stuff that laid inside. 

The ink had faded, but not enough to erase the sketch drawn in hurried, desperate strokes, portraying a girl being mourned in black with her eyes closed, standing beside a young man with soft curls and a thread around his wrist. Red. The face of the girl was not clear, but his face was unmistakable even with the faded colours—Jungwon.

His eyes, his mouth, even the angle of his neck. Him, exactly as he lay beside you now—down to the shadows beneath his lashes, the solemn part of his lips.

“No,” you whispered, but the sound barely made it past your throat, “w—what is this?”

There were no dates mentioned, no names, no title. Just a mark at the bottom—a sigil you didn’t recognize, but which made your body shiver. Like it belonged to you.

You wanted to step back, but you couldn’t, you were already on the bed, his body just inches from yours. You clutched the paper against your chest, as if holding it would keep your sanity from slipping. Your heart thundered against his quiet.

“I don’t understand,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Why are you in this? Why—why do I feel like I’ve seen this before?”

You turned to him slowly, eyes watery.

He lay there, serene and unbothered. A holy thing, but something in your throat twisted the longer you looked. You had no words for it—this quiet ache that gripped your lungs and told you, you’ve been here before.

You didn’t think, simply leaning in, arms curling around him, resting your head beneath his chin, pressing your body against his like it would ground you—like it would stop you from breaking in half.

And as you held him, eyes wide in the dark, the sketch burned behind your eyelids, making you shiver, mind so distraught that you barely pay attention to the fingers who curl tighter around your waist. 

Chapter 6: Can I have a dance?

The room pulsed with heat. Not comfort, but the kind that made you ache, you didn’t remember walking here, but your body had arrived, soaked in watery silk. The chamber around you was vast and dark, stone walls veined in tarnished gold, and steam blooming from a bath sunk deep into the earth like a tomb carved for lovers.

And he was there, of fucking course he was.

Jungwon, kneeling between your thighs like a man in prayer, the water swirling around his hips. His curls were wet, clinging to his cheeks, his mouth already at your skin.

You were bare beneath the surface, soaked in warmth, and him. He kissed the inside of your thigh firmly, reverently, like he’d missed the taste of you more than breathing. His lips trailed upward, and when his tongue finally reached your cunt, your spine arched from the stone—as if blessed.

Your hands found the ledge behind you, fingers white knuckled against the carved obsidian. He licked slowly—decadent, like he was savoring something rare and forbidden, tongue curling with memory and need. You moaned, broken and low, your legs spreading wider.

“Still just as sweet,” he murmured, lips brushing your folds, “even after all this time, hm, sweet.”

His fingers dug into your thighs with something feral, and when he began to suck, kissing trailing upwards, making you cry with each flick of his tongue, it almost felt known, and around you, the air changed.

The mist parted just enough for you to see them, mirrored silhouettes lining the perimeter of the bath, placed with hollow eyes. Their mouths sewn shut with red thread.

Your head snapped down—his eyes were on you, dark and endless. And he smiled against your nipple, which rested between his lips, a faint trace of dimple shadowed his face.

“Let me make you remember, my love,” he whispered.

You shattered with a soundless scream, clenching around nothing, body pulsing, the climax burning hot and holy through your veins, as his two digits plunge into your wetness, warm and inviting. 

And then—silence.

You woke in your bed, sweat clinging to your skin, thighs damp, breath caught in your throat, the room was dim still, velvet shadows all around. 

Then you felt it, an arm deliberately curled around your waist. Fingers resting at the base of your ribs, too precise. 

You turned your head the slightest bit, barely breathing now. He lay behind you, not stiff like porcelain should be, but pliant, like flesh that had long since remembered how to mimic life. His cheek brushed your shoulder, his breath, if it was breath, fanned faintly against your nape.

You had goosebumps all over, not sure if the dream caused it, or was it your mind playing tricks on you, about the fact that you felt it in flesh, the doll feeling more humane each passing day. 

He hadn’t moved last night, but now, he held you.

And you realized that you had no memory of falling asleep, only of speaking to him, barely clothed, trembling. Your body had crawled into his presence like it belonged to him—and perhaps, in some unspeakable way, it did. It always ended like this.

You beside him, asleep, getting pulled into a world you were familiar with, only, it felt foreign the second your eyes snap open, each time. 

As if your soul was following a rhythm it had long since known by heart.

Your wrist burned again, you shook it, desperately trying to ground yourself in a way you won’t spiral, hence, picking up your phone, scrolling religiously as it casted a warm glow on your face. The curtains were drawn shut, candlelight flickering near the vanity—your usual nighttime ritual. You hadn’t looked at Jungwon yet, you didn’t want to.

Not because he scared you—but because tonight, he felt too close. You set the phone down for just a second, reaching for the glass of water at your bedside, and it slipped your gasp, hitting the ground screen down. 

Your speaker picked it up, connected automatically, a moment of silence before that sound, however familiar, but still something you’d heard for the first time. 

A slow, waltz inspired ballroom melody. Instrumental, full of violins, the kind of tune that made the air feel like it’s silky, like it belonged to another century entirely, and maybe, just maybe, it did. 

Your head turned slowly to stare at Jungwon, who glowed under the candlelight, complexion no longer cold, rather, he looked soft, flushed even, lips glistening and brows furrowed, staring at you.

You rose to your feet without knowing why, the melody urged you to move forward, each step feeling as though it belonged to someone else—someone older, someone who had walked these halls before in bare feet and silk. Someone who had danced already to this same waltz, in a time before mirrors.

You reached him, hand brushing his cheek, warm—not startling, not artificial for once, just warm enough to make your breath hitch.

“I must be dreaming,” you whispered, for the nth time you believe.

He didn’t answer, of course. But he didn’t need to.

The music only swelled.

You slipped your arms beneath him, your robe falling open slightly at the shoulder. His body pressed into yours, heavier than it looked, and yet you lifted him, pulled him close. Like he weighed nothing at all. Like he belonged to you, like he walked with you so as to not burden you with his weight. 

You carried him—through the corridor, past the mirrors and the antique cross stitched chairs that no one ever sat in, past the glass cases filled with relics of lives not yours. The music followed, blooming louder now, until—you entered the grand living room.

The chandelier loomed above in fractured crystal and dust, casting slow shadows across the room. The fireplace was cold. 

You stepped into the center, socks covering your bare foot as they turned against the polished marbles, his arms limp around you, but his weight tilted with you, as if his body remembered the rhythm. The two of you swayed—left, then right, a half turn, a pretty dance which wasn’t perfect by any means.

However, it was real.

And as you turned again, as the violins drew longer and you felt it, the shift, not in him but in you. 

Like a dream had opened mid movement. Like the edges of time had folded. The chandelier above flickered.

And suddenly, you were not in the penthouse anymore.

You were in a ballroom.

Massive and candlelit. The scent of wax and rosewater heavy in the air. Gilded frames on every wall. A harp playing somewhere far off.

Your dress was full bodied silk, dark and red like overriped cherries, the ones who love so much. You wore gloves, and his hand was firm at your waist.

He was alive, laughing and whispering something into your hair.

“Don’t look away. If you do, we’ll forget again, don’t wanna forget, not yet.” He pressed his soft lips upon the corner of your mouth, smudging the cherry coloured lipstick. 

You gasped, holding onto him tighter, trying to feel the warmth that he radiated, like a human, as if he was never a doll in the first place. 

Pulling him closer, you tried to maintain eye contact, staring right into his big brown eyes, a soft dimple gracing his face, even more so when you leaned in to kiss him, to feel real, as if you belong somewhere. 

That’s when your feet caught on something.

You gasped, letting go and Jungwon’s body dropped from your arms, slow, the way dreams fall when you wake too fast. He collapsed onto the marble, arms spread loosely, curls bouncing once as his head hit the rug.

“Shit—” you dropped to your knees, breath caught in your throat, “oh, fuck! I’m sorry, I—”

You reached to lift him again, but  your hand scraped something sharp, a low gleam of silver caught, his lapel pin—a small thorn, twisted around perfectly. It pierced the pad of your finger with surgical precision. You hissed, watching a single drop of blood rise.

It rose up and whole—down your finger, and before you could stop it, it fell right on his throat, then another, in his eye which still stared into you, now bloody and more real than ever. 

The music stopped right then, just when you were about to take a step towards Jungwon, heart heavier than ever, mind spiralling as if you’d reached a point of madness, no conscience of past, present, or future. 

“Jungwon?” You whispered, the sound barely coming out, not coming from your throat, but rather somewhere that buried deep inside you. 

He didn’t speak, however, his lips were parted, the same mouth that was carved from stillness, now hung slightly open. His chest, once impossibly still, seemed to move, yet you couldn’t be sure, but one thing was clear—something had changed. 

You gasped the second the shrill voice of your phone rang, startling you, grounding you back into the present, violently so. You picked it up with a shaking hand, the blood now drying along your fingers. The name flashing across the screen was one you recognized, your manager. 

“H—hello?” You answered, dizzy. 

The voice came out clipped, “I—I didn’t wish to call like this, I know you don’t wish to be a part of the mess anymore, but Y/N, listen—it’s about your father.”

That cleaved onto you like a blade, your eyes still fixated on the doll, whose eyes seemed to be glowing by now. 

“The press got hold of his old finance records, the funds which were rerouted, laundered, and offshore holdings. Even political donors—Y/N, they’re everywhere, headlines and broadcast stations are looking into it. I don’t think it can be undone, the police took him in.”

Your phone felt heavy in your hand, or maybe your hand had gone numb. The blood had cooled to a tacky smear against your palm.

“You’re safe, stay there, okay? We’re contacting lawyers to help your parents—”

You cut the call, words barely registering at the moment. Nothing, absolutely nothing about the situation felt normal to you, not when you already found yourself spiraling about different things, about Jungwon. 

You tried to breathe, but your lungs weren’t working right. They expanded too quickly, then refused to collapse. Panic gripped your ribs and twisted as your heartbeat slammed, thudded in your ears, in your skull. Your head was too light, your hands too far from your arms.

You couldn’t think about the phone call, about your father, your mother, the lawyers, the broadcasts. None of it belonged here—not anymore.

Not when something unnatural, divine, was happening just a few feet away. Your mouth opened, a gasp, a name—none of it came. You were spiraling, fast, and the ground no longer wanted you.

The moment cracked with your knees giving out. A soft thud echoed through the room as your body fell sideways, limbs collapsing like a marionette with its strings cut. The marble floor rushed toward you, but even that felt dreamlike, distant.

Everything was fading, only one thing remained—him.

The last thing you saw, just before your eyes fluttered shut, was a flash of motion—Jungwon, no longer still, no longer cold. He moved with terrifying speed, rising from the floor like he’d always been capable, like he’d only been waiting.

His eyes locked onto yours in panic, and his arms—real arms, reached for you.

You didn’t feel yourself fall, you only felt him catch you, your eyes closing as the last thing you heard was his voice before passing out. 

“Don’t leave—”

And then, silence. 

Chapter 7: You’re the one I was meant to find. 

You were running. The corridor around you was narrow, candlelit, carved from stone older than reason. Your fingers clutched the sides of your gown as your breath tore from your lungs, heart thundering beneath a bodice bound too tight. Your slippers slipped against the marble, the walls rushing past in a blur. Somewhere behind you, voices rose in anger. The violins still played, faint and far off, as if from another room—or another lifetime.

Just then, a hand caught your wrist, black gloved, steady despite the tremble in his grip—Jungwon, dressed in royal robes, eyes brighter than ever, searching for yours in a hurry. 

He only pulled you forward, faster through the passage, your fingers tangled in his. Behind you, the shadows were growing figures. You could hear the clink of armor now, boots striking stone.

A crack of thunder split the sky.

And suddenly you were in the courtyard, barefoot on wet stone, skirts dripping, hair tumbling free as you spun in his arms beneath the moon. The storm raged above, and yet the violins still played. He held you like he was trying to memorize your shape, the way your breath stuttered every time his hand brushed your spine. The music swelled, and you twirled, laughing into his shoulder—but the sound was short lived.

Another crack of lightning hit—way closer now.

Flames flickered behind tall windows. Guards poured from the doors like an army, making you turn, hand still in his, and run toward the stables. Your lungs burned, his name trembled on your lips. The horses reared in panic as you approached, but he steadied them. A look passed between you—a mix of fear and love, and he lifted you onto the saddle, swung up behind.

But the gates never opened.

The trees beyond the wall seemed so close, and yet, arrows flew like black wings from the towers above. One struck his shoulder. His body jerked behind you, warmth spreading across your back. You turned, horrified, clutching him as he slid from the horse with a cry.

And just like that, the ground returned.

You were on your knees, soaked in mud and blood, sobbing as you cradled his body. His fingers still moved, reaching for you. He tried to rise, he tried to speak. But the clang of metal drowned everything.

The guards seized you both.

The next flash came with the howl of wind tearing through tall windows—tattered velvet curtains flailing like wounded wings.

You were in the throne room, your family lined the steps in judgment. Gold and crimson banners hung behind their heads like execution ropes. Your father’s voice boomed as he paced before the assembly, fury twisted into something rehearsed.

“Loyalty cannot be faked. Treason wears many faces, and fraternizing with the enemy will have consequences, no matter if it’s my own flesh, punishment will be given.”

Your mother said nothing. Her hands were folded tightly, white knuckled in her lap, her pearls glittering like tears that refused to fall.

Jungwon knelt at the base of the dais, blood streaking his cheek, lips split, eyes never leaving yours. He looked regal even then—bruised and broken, but unyielding.

“She chose me,” he said, voice low, shaking, “and I would die for that choice again.”

Another crash of thunder—and you were beneath the cathedral rafters, cloaked in shadow, your fingers pressed to his jaw as you kissed him like it was a rebellion in itself. The scent of incense and storm hung between you. Your tears mixed with his.

“If I could be born again,” you whispered, forehead pressed to his, “I’d still choose you, in every life, I would give my love to you, Jungwon.”

A gust of wind tore through the memory.

Suddenly the forest closed around you again, and your blade was drawn—one you hadn’t even realized you were holding. Blood on your hands. The enemy’s blood, or yours. It was all the same now.

They pulled you back. A scream echoed—his, yours, mixed together in the deepest symphony of pain. 

Steel pierced your side, and then it came, the emptiness.

Your knees hit marble, vision swarming. Your body folded in on itself, cradling the wound as though it could be held shut. You couldn’t see him anymore, but you heard his voice breaking in the distance, each word louder than the last, but fainter in your ears, “don’t take her—don’t—please—no! Y/N!”

Your blood pooled like spilled ink across the floor. The music had stopped, you didn’t know when. Then the world began to dim, his name was the last thing in your mouth.

The next memory didn’t come with lightning, but with silence so deep it felt like falling into a crypt. He knelt again—this time in chains, surrounded by your family, their faces cold as marble statues. There was no trial, no last words.

Your father spoke the curse himself, voice like iron.

“Let him live and never forget, let him see her again, and never reach her.”

The thread appeared—red as blood, drawn through his chest, binding his limbs in place. His skin cracked. His breath froze in his lungs. He didn’t scream. Only stared forward, lips parted in horror as his body hardened.

Porcelain, in silence, cursed like a marionette with the strings invisible, a prince entombed in the skin of a doll.

The centuries passed like ash on wind. You vanished from the records of history, reborn again and again, never remembering. He remained, all these years, shelved. Watched over each time, still long forgotten. Until you, until this year.

Until now. 

You woke with a violent gasp, a cough, as if dragged from beneath water that had long since gone still. Your lungs burned as you clawed yourself upright, heartbeat deafening in your ears, skin cold. The room tilted and shadows had changed. The light no longer flickered against porcelain.

There was heat beside you, some weight, and before your mind could catch up, your body reacted. You turned sharply, hands slipping on the edge of the blanket, still in the living room, eyes locking with his, wide and burning.

Jungwon.

No longer the lifeless doll, no longer the mute witness sealed in centuries of stillness. His chest rose with breath, his pupils blown wide, and his hair, once perfectly styled when you first saw him—was tousled now, disheveled like something had been undone from the inside out. His coat lay forgotten on the floor behind him, abandoned in the chaos of resurrection. He looked alive in the worst way—raw, barely contained, beautiful, and terrifying all at once.

You didn’t think, simply twisting away, a broken sound leaving your throat as you scrambled for the edge of the room, running away from what felt like a nightmare, even though your heart beated out of our chest, urging you to go to him instead. 

However, he was faster, hand catching your wrist before you could rise to your feet, grip firm, not enough to hurt, but enough to shake something loose in you. You yelped, shocked by the strength, by the heat of his touch, how real he felt, how utterly he refused to let you go.

“Stop,” his voice boomed, reverberating, still cracked at the edges, “you’re not running. Not again.”

Your breath hitched as you stared at him, trembling under the weight of the moment, the tension stretched tight as piano wire.

His jaw was tight, but his eyes were chaos, wild with something that couldn’t decide whether to be angry or longing. “You looked at me,” he said, his voice gritted with disbelief, love—all of it layered in a single breath, “you saw me again, and now you want to run?”

“I—” the word barely formed, your mouth felt numb, the panic in your chest twisted with something else now, a longing of something long forgotten. 

He leaned closer, still gripping your wrist, still breathing hard. His shirt was half untucked, collar loose, neck flushed, the candlelight flickering at his cheekbones. He looked ruined, and furious, but most of all—desperate for you.

“You died in front of me,” he said, louder now, every syllable laced with venomous heartbreak, “and I lived in silence for centuries, waiting for you. You think I’m going to let you leave me again?”

You tried to wrench your arm free, but he held fast, dragging you a step closer, the distance closing like a door slamming shut.

“Don’t you remember what they did to us?” He spat, voice sharp, “you think you’re scared? I’ve been trapped in silence, in a damn glass coffin, hearing your voice in rooms I couldn’t move in. Do you have any idea what it did to me—watching you pass me by without knowing?”

The room swam around you, every breath felt like thunder in your ribs. He wasn’t calm, nor was he composed. He wasn’t the memory anymore—he was the consequence of all of it, of love twisted by time, of passion turned obsessive by grief.

His hand finally loosened, just slightly, fingers brushing down your wrist, but he didn’t let go.

“Say something,” he breathed out, “say my name.”

Your lips parted, but nothing came as you stared at his blonde messy hair, big yearning eyes, laced with despair, rosy lips, dying to get a taste of you. 

He laughed once, bitter and breathless, dimple showing despite the frustration, teeth gritted, “no one has said my name with love in a hundred years, and I only wanted to hear it from you.”

His grip shifted again, gentler now—but still firm, like if he let go, you’d vanish. His forehead dropped toward yours, not touching, breath warming the space between you, gaze locked in yours like a curse reborn.

“You were mine,” he whispered, “you are mine, do you think anything else matters?”

Your hand moved before your mind did, reaching up to brush the strands of hair from his forehead. He didn’t flinch, he leaned into it like a man starved of touch. Your fingers trembled as they slid down the side of his face, feeling the heat of his skin, the realness of it, the pulse just beneath.

“Jungwon,” you breathed.

The moment you said it, everything changed, his eyes fluttered shut, like the sound alone was enough to break him. His fingers dug back into your waist, holding you with quiet violence, breath stuttering against your cheek.

You didn’t pull away, you simply couldn’t, instead, the words clawed up your throat, bitter, almost angry, “was it you?”

He stilled, lips hovering just beside yours, controlling himself, “what?”

“The stories, t—the leaked accounts, ruined finances. My ex fiancé’s accident,” your voice cracked, but you pushed forward, fury threading through the fog, “did you do that to them?”

He opened his eyes slowly, the look in them wasn’t apologetic by any means, “yes, I wanted to burn every name that ever tried to replace mine,” he said, voice low and shaking, “and I did. I watched him touch you like you were some fragile, pitiful thing to be married off. Like you were his to protect, to claim, as if I hadn’t died screaming your name.”

You should’ve felt sick, perhaps a part of you did, but the other part—the darker, crueler one buried deep in your chest was quiet, pleased.

He was the only one who ever loved you so violently, so completely, that he’d ruin anyone who dared stand where he once stood, even if it was wrong, even when it was madness. 

Your voice dropped to a whisper, “you destroyed them for me.”

“I’d do it again,” he said without blinking, “in less time, with worse consequences.”

Your breath came harder now, lips brushing his,  “you’re insane, you—you’re not real, am I still dreaming?”

“I’ve been waiting over a century. What do you expect me to be, not insane? Not real for you?”

Your hand tightened around the collar of his shirt, fisting it. He exhaled like he was finally allowed to breathe again. His forehead pressed to yours, sweat damp and shaking. The line between hate and hunger blurred like smoke between your mouths.

He looked at you like he was about to kiss you—or devour you, maybe both. 

“You think I give a damn about right and wrong anymore?” He whispered, voice as sweet as you could remember, and lord, now you did remember, even if it made you spiral into madness, you remember now, “they never loved you. Not like I did, not like I still do.”

This time, it was you who moved first. You surged forward, your mouth finding his with a desperation that didn’t feel like yours, but something older, something buried. It wasn’t sweet, rather, it was starving. Teeth clashing, lips bruising, hands scrambling to pull, to grip, to ground yourself in the heat of him.

He groaned into your mouth, and it was deep, guttural, ragged from centuries of holding back. His hands flew to your hips, pulling you into him like proximity could undo time. There was nothing patient in the way he kissed you—just need consuming him altogether, the kind you didn’t walk away from.

“Say it again,” he begged against your lips, not stopping, “say it, my name, say it like you remember.”

“Jungwon,” you breathed, again and again, like a spell, like a lifeline, like you were anchoring him to this world.

Each repetition made him more frantic. His grip on you tightened, his body shuddering under your touch like he was afraid it might fade, your lips parted as he kissed down the side of your jaw, then lower when you whimpered, hot open mouthed kisses all over your neck. 

“I need to feel you, need to know you’re mine again,” he groans against your skin, voice beautiful, “that I’m not fucking dreaming—”

“You’re not,” you breathed out, pulling his face back up to yours, looking him in the eye. “I’m right here.”

He surged forward with something close to a snarl, crashing his mouth to yours with violent purpose, lips swollen and slick as his hands gripped your waist and hauled you into his lap on the silk covered couch like you belonged nowhere else. You straddled him, legs falling around his hips, your chest pressed to his as he devoured your mouth with a hunger you didn’t know a body could carry. It was angry, obsessive—years of silence and watching and grief pouring into every kiss, every clash of teeth, and tongue.

You tried to speak, maybe to say his name again, maybe to tell him you wanted him now—but he didn’t let you.

“I said no more running,” Jungwon grunted against your mouth, voice low and beautifully frayed, “ you’re going to stay right here, on me, just like this.”

His hands traced your back, slow and possessive, until they gripped your ass and grounded your hips down hard against the bulge straining beneath his trousers. You gasped, fingers curling into his shoulders for balance, your cunt rubbing right against him—too much friction, yet not nearly enough.

“Oh god—”

“No,” he groans, breathless, biting down on your shoulder, “not god. Me. Say my name when you’re like this, yeah?”

“Jungwon,” you gasped, your whole body twitching as he rutted up into you again, cock grinding against your bare cunt through the fabric of his pants. “Fuck, Jungwon—”

“That’s it,” he breathed, mouth against your throat, sucking a bruise into your skin as you rocked your hips down on him like instinct. “That’s all I wanted for a hundred fucking years, you, falling apart on top of me.”

He grabbed the backs of your thighs and stood in one swift, jarring motion, lifting you with him. You wrapped around him by reflex—legs clinging to his waist, arms around his neck, body flushed against his chest. The room blurred as he carried you, stumbling back into the bedroom you’d long since abandoned when he was nothing more than porcelain.

You barely had time to think, the chandelier flickered above, casting gold and red across the walls like spilled blood and candlelight. Then the bed hit your back, his weight covering you a second later.

He kissed you again, deep and slow this time, like he was drinking from your mouth. His tongue curled over yours, wet and thick, stealing every breath you had left. Your legs parted for him without thought, and his hips slotted between them, his clothed cock rubbing right against your soaked core as he started to grind again.

“Feel that?” He panted, pressing harder, rutting his hips down in short thrusts that had you moaning into his mouth, “you’re dripping for me, darling, and I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

You whimpered, eyes rolling back at the friction, so raw and filthy it bordered on unbearable.

“You used to do this in secret,” he said, thrusting again, his voice rasping as he rocked into you, “when you thought I couldn’t see, pressing your thighs together, grinding against your pillows, pretending you didn’t want me.”

“I did,” you gasped, “you know I always did.”

He groaned, hips stuttering as you clung tighter to him, “I used to imagine this before we got together—holding you down, just like this, feeling you grind all wet and desperate over me, crying my name.”

You could feel how hard he was through the fabric. He was panting now, moving faster, the rhythm filthy. His cock slid against your clit with every stroke, and it had your thighs trembling, cunt pulsing with the tension coiling in your gut.

“You’re going to cum like this,” he whispered against your lips, like a command, “right here, before I’m even inside you, hm?”

Your hips moved on their own, chasing the friction, chasing him, your breath caught in your throat, “please,” you whimpered, “don’t stop—don’t ever stop.”

He kissed you sloppier now, his teeth catching your lower lip as he groaned into your mouth, sweat slicking your skin.

“Say my name,” he ordered again, fucking up into you harder, grinding your clit perfectly with every motion.

“Jungwon—Jungwon, fuck, I’m gonna—”

“You’re mine,” he groaned, “you hear me? No one else, never again.”

The pressure burst like it was breaking your body, your back arching as you came hard—loud and shaking, your moans swallowed by his mouth. He groaned with you, grinding hard through your climax, his own hips bucking as he rutted with desperate rhythm, chasing his own peak.

“You make me insane,” he gasped against your neck, still grinding, “you don’t even know what you do to me—”

You held him tighter, your body still pulsing, already dizzy again from the aftershocks.

You still hadn’t caught your breath—your body trembled beneath him as he flipped you over on your back, lips swollen from kissing, slickness coating your thighs, but he didn’t give you a moment to recover. His hands were already moving, ruthlessly so, as if he didn’t trust time to wait for him this time.

“Mine,” he muttered, voice ragged, chest rising and falling like he was barely containing himself. “You’ve always been mine.”

Then you heard it, the nasty sound of fabric tearing.

You gasped, hips jolting as his hands flipped your robe up, gripping your soaked panties and tearing them clean in half—fingers curling into the delicate fabric like it had irritated him just by existing between you. The torn scraps fell to the side, forgotten.

“I’ll rip through anything that keeps me from you,” he said, low and fervent, voice thick with heat and hunger. “I don’t care if it’s silk, steel, or fucking centuries.”

His mouth hovered above your core, breath hot, uneven, “I should’ve done this the second you walked back into that house,” he growled, eyes locked between your legs. “Should’ve thrown you down and tasted you until you forgot the name of every man who touched you after me.”

You writhed beneath him, already breathless, your thighs falling open for him like muscle memory, but then he paused, sitting back on his knees and reached up to his collar.

Your chest rose and fell faster at the sight—his fingers moving slowly now, unbuttoning the pristine white shirt clinging to his chest. One button, then another. With every inch of skin revealed, your pulse surged harder—his collarbone, the plane of his chest, each line of him carved like something ancient and holy, divine and terrifying. The candlelight bled gold down his stomach, catching in the cut of his abs, the trail of veins along his arms twitching from restraint.

You watched, dazed at his pure beauty, he looked like a prince raised from the grave—beautiful and damned.

“You look at me like you remember,” he whispered, letting the shirt fall from his shoulders with a smirk, “do you? Does your body know me now, darling?”

You nodded before you could stop yourself, lips parted, “I do. I remember all of it.”

He exhaled hard through his nose, the sound nearly a growl, “then lay back,” he said, crawling between your thighs again, “and let me remind you why no one else ever satisfied you.”

He didn’t waste a second as he was on you, mouth open, tongue wet and greedy, licking through your folds with a growl like he’d gone feral. Your body jolted at the first contact, back arching, thighs trying to close from the intensity—but his hands gripped your knees and forced them open, pushing you wide as he buried his face in you like he was starving.

“Fuck—” you gasped, hand flying to his hair. “Jungwon—”

The sound of his name broke something in him, making him moan, a sound so loud and obscene, right into your cunt, reverberating, tongue curling against your clit, sucking so hard your hips bucked. His hands pressed your thighs flat to the bed, holding you down as he devoured you like a man who’d waited lifetimes to be fed. There was no rhythm, only unadulterated hunger and reverence. His mouth was wet, tongue fast and erratic, fucking into you like he needed it to live.

You mumbled out something incoherent, and he groaned again, louder, mouth sealing over your clit, sucking until your vision blurred, until your voice cracked.

“Jungwon—please—”

“Say it again,” he ordered, teeth brushing the sensitive bundle of nerves, tongue never stopping.

“Jungwon, I swear Jungwon, uh fuck, please—”

He didn’t stop, he couldn’t.

“You belong to me,” he said, licking deep into your entrance. “Even now, even after death. Say it, baby, say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours—” you gasped, near sobbing from the pressure building inside you again. “I’m yours, I’m, oh fuck, Jungwon, I’m gonna, fuck!”

“Cum for me,” he ordered, voice thick with lust and control, “make a mess on my tongue. Let me taste every fucking inch of you.”

That sent you over the edge, you came with a cry so sharp it felt ripped from your chest—your thighs clenching around his head, your hands yanking his hair, hips rocking up as you fell apart. It was too much, way too intense, too long coming.

He moaned into your cunt, licking you through every pulse, every twitch, swallowing down your release like it was holy, and when you finally opened your eyes—he was still between your legs, a dark lopsided grin on his face, attractive, but even more so, scary, as he laid there, still hard. 

Still hungry.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, voice deep, “but you’re not scared of me anymore, are you?”

You couldn’t speak, only shook your head, throat too raw from moaning. Your wrists still burned faintly, the red thread pulsing under your skin as if it knew something ancient had shifted.

He sat back on his heels, slowly, dragging his palms up your trembling thighs, claiming every inch he touched, he looked mad, in an obsessive way, in a fashion that creepy dolls do, but he was real, and waiting. 

“You came so sweet for me,” he whispered, brushing a finger between your folds, smearing you across your thigh with reverence, “but, baby, it’s not enough, just not nearly enough, hm?”

His hands moved to his belt, and you froze for a second, eyes following every inch he moved. The sound of leather sliding through the loops echoed in the room, his eyes stayed locked to yours the entire time, not blinking once as he tugged the belt loose, then let it fall to the floor with a soft thud.

“You don’t know, baby, you have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this,” he continued, voice cracking, “not just having you like this, but fucking you still half clothed, holding you open while you scream my name into the dark—because you remember me now, and you’re not going anywhere, fuck—I’ve missed this.”

He didn’t take his pants off—not completely. His hands dropped to his belt, the metal buckle clinking open with a quick, practiced tug. The soft hiss of leather sliding through loops reverberated the air. His eyes never left yours, his jaw clenched so tight it trembled, the fury in his body barely caged.

Then the button, the zipper. He shoved his pants down with one hand, just low enough to free himself, his cock springing out, flushed and thick, already leaking, twitching from how long he’d held back.

He fisted the base with one hand, the other still holding your thigh open, “you’re mine,” he said, almost to himself, then louder, “fucking say it.”

“I’m yours,” you breathed, almost choking on the words.

He chuckled, a devilish smirk on his face as he looked at you with dark eyes, “again.”

“I’m yours, Jungwon.”

He groaned, like your voice alone could unravel him, and leaned in, bracing his forearms beside your head. His cock dragged through your slick folds as if he was teasing, catching on your entrance, and he hissed at the feel of you already so wet, so ready.

“I should’ve never let you forget me,” he growled, lining up, “never should’ve waited this long,” he mumbled, “wanted to fuck you right there when you climbed on my lap and cried even when I was a doll, when I fucking lost my mind, you kissed me, baby, you needed me even then.”

You whined as he brought up what you had done, and just as you were distracted, he thrust in without much warning, no build up before, simply a deep, brutal snap of his hips. 

You cried out, head jerking back, back arching off the bed. He was thick, too big for you, and the stretch was unbearable, perfect, like you were being broken in half. His hands clamped around your wrists again, pinning you down with bruising force, and your skin lit up. 

The red thread under your wrists seared like fire, glowing bright, like the curse had been reawakened fully the moment he was inside you.

Jungwon’s breath hitched against your ear, “lord,” he rasped, “you feel that? That’s it, that’s fucking us—”

You whimpered, overwhelmed by the stretch, by the thread, by the way your body clenched around him like it already belonged. Like it had been waiting for this moment through lifetimes.

“I knew it would burn,” he whispered into your throat, hips snapping forward, “I knew it would recognize me the second I was inside you again.”

He thrust again, hips grinding now, like he was savoring every inch of your slick, shuddering cunt.

“And it does, doesn’t it?” he hissed, “your body knows. Even if your heart forgot me—your body never did.”

You sobbed out his name, barely a whisper, and that made him lose what little control he had left. He slammed into you, again and again, hips snapping with violent rhythm, his cock dragging against your walls with every brutal stroke. The bed creaked beneath you, the air around you fogging up in a mist of sex. 

“Fuck—Jungwon, slow—”

“I’ve waited too long for this,” he groaned, “centuries of silence—centuries of emptiness. You think I’m going to take it slow?” 

His lips crashed into yours, devouring your cry, tongue sliding past your lips like he needed to taste everything at once. And still, he kept moving, hips hammering into yours with a punishing rhythm, every thrust sending sparks of pain and pleasure through your entire body.

“Do you feel that?” He gritted against your lips, “the way you squeeze me—fuck, baby, you’re shaking.”

“I can’t, please Jungwon—”

“Yes, you can.” His voice was feral, “you’ll take it, all of me, every fucking inch. You’ll take it because you’re mine.”

His grip shifted—one hand sliding down, hooking under your knee, throwing your leg over his shoulder so he could drive in deeper. The angle made you scream, body arching off the bed, stars flooding your vision as his cock hit the spot that made you unravel.

“Right there?” he chuckled, “that’s the spot. That’s the one that used to make you cry for me in your past life. Remember it?”

You sobbed—half lost, the sensation too much for you to incorporate any new information in mind; and nodded.

He thrust harder, deeper, so much rougher, every movement frantic with obsession, “say it,” he moaned, “say you remember.”

“I remember,” you gasped, “I remember you, Jungwon, I remember everything—”

The noise he made wasn’t humane by any means. It was broken, starved almost. He bent over you, still buried deep, his forehead pressed to yours, sweat dripping down between your bodies.

“I’m going to fill you up,” he whispered, “so deep you never forget again. So full you won’t be able to think of anyone but me.”

The red thread pulsed yet again—twisting tighter, glowing like fire at your wrists, along your thighs, down your chest.

“You were made for me,” he breathed, “bound to me. You’ll die with me inside you, if I have to make it happen, and I’ll die with you again, over and over, again.”

He groaned through those words, your moan was louder, vibrating through his skin, squeezing him tighter as your body agreed, you were made for him, and gave him exactly what he wanted, you, falling apart all over his cock. 

The sight was enough for him to lose his control, letting himself go, filling you up, deep and hard, cock pulsing inside your fluttering cunt, as your body convulsed around him once more, milking him through it.

However, he didn’t pull out, didn’t bother moving, stopping. 

His hips rolled again, already hardening inside you. He looked down at you, eyes burning red under the chandelier’s flicker.

“I’m not done.”

Chapter 8: With or Without you. 

The water shimmered with faint steam, delicate curls of warmth rising into the candlelit hush of the room. The tub was enormous—black marble, sunken into the penthouse floor, surrounded by tall gothic windows that looked out over the city like a cathedral watching the living. The only light came from candles, myriads of them, flickering along the ledges, their glow casting long, trembling shadows across the walls. 

You were weightless, finally, your bare body floating gently between Jungwon’s thighs, your back pressed to his chest, your head on his shoulder. His arms wrapped around you, palms resting on your belly, then lower, fingers brushing just above your thighs, as if he couldn’t stop touching you even now, not even here.

The red thread had faded back to a dull, molten line along your wrist, no longer burning, but you could still feel it, tied between your pulse and his.

He was warm behind you, human, finally, irrevocably real.

He kissed the side of your neck, slow and deliberate, his lips dragging up to your jaw, “you’re still shaking, darling,” he murmured, his voice low, intimate, as if speaking louder might wake the rest of the world.

You let your eyes drift shut, “I’m not sure it’s real yet.” You said, scared, abandonment being your worst fear, and now you knew why, you had a reason, carved deep inside you. 

“It is,” he whispered, “I am.”

You felt his hand curl tighter across your stomach, protective, anchoring you in place. He kissed you again, and again, trailing his mouth down the curve of your throat as though trying to memorize every inch of skin, leaning back into his embrace.

“I never want to wake up if this is a dream,” he murmured.

“You won’t,” you said, softly. “Not unless I do too.”

There was silence for a long while—only the water shifting around your bodies, the distant hum of the city beneath the stained glass, soft fluttering in your stomach, and Jungwon’s possessive hold, telling you that it’s real, that no matter what happens, he’ll stay. 

You had no idea how you would explain the addition of a new human into this world, how you’d describe where he came from, but that was the least of your worries now.

You turned in his arms then, straddling him in the deep water, your knees pressed to either side of his hips, your hands finding his shoulders. His hair was damp, pushed back from his face, his cheeks flushed from the heat. There was something about him like this—messy, still a little inhuman. Like the remnants of porcelain had never quite left. His eyes gleamed like something ancient.

“You never stopped loving me,” you whispered, fingertips brushing down his chest.

He shook his head once, slowly, his blonde curls now wet, caressed your skin in the process. “Not once. Not even when you died.”

You leaned in, lips brushing his, but didn’t kiss him just yet, “and all that time, you waited?” You asked, as if you needed confirmation over and over again. 

“I waited, burning all alone,” he said, voice thick, eyes shining with the truth, taking you in with nothing but unadulterated love, “every night, every time someone else touched you in another life. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. I just felt it, you moving on. You forgetting.”

You cupped his face, stared into the truth of that devastation, “I never really forgot, not because I wanted to at least.”

“I know,” he breathed, “I felt it. Even before you remembered—your blood called me back, you cried to me, you just didn’t know it yet.”

You finally leaned in, noticing the faint dimples on his cheek as you got closer, eyes holding hearts for you. The kiss wasn’t frantic, not like before. This one was slow, perfectly drawn out, all breath and lips, and silent apology. It was centuries of mourning buried in a kiss, two lovers who had lived and died with that ache carved into their bones.

He sighed into your mouth, letting you take from him as long as you needed. When you finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed.

“I won’t let go,” he whispered, “not in this life. Not ever again. I love you so fucking much.”

“You don’t have to,” you breathed, “I’ve loved you, I love you, I’ll love you.”

For the first time, it wasn’t a curse, it wasn’t a punishment, it was real, a promise.

The candlelight caught on the red thread beneath your skin once more, pulsing faintly between you like a heartbeat in unison.

He wrapped his arms around you again, pulling you into his chest as you sank back into the water, your cheek against his collarbone, your limbs tangled under the surface. Outside, the world continued, the time marched on, the city moved.

But in here, in this penthouse above the world, time stood still, he had returned to you. 

And he would never let go.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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throughout the course of the past six years, yang jungwon has learned to battle the ferocious beast that shreds his insides, aching to escape, whenever he’s not soothed by your presence. he knows it’s strange – the violent feeling that stews inside of him when he’s overstayed his welcome to the point of it no longer being normal, and he has to part ways with you. parting ways with you; sure, easy enough. at least such an action would be easy if his life garnered any other purpose, aside from saturating all of his senses in anything related to you. unfortunately, and as mockingly apparent as it was, jungwon’s life garnered no other purpose. therefore, it was never easy. 

when it came to you, jungwon was so hyperaware. a hyperawareness which stemmed into every physical reaction of yours, every mannerism, and every emotion it alluded to. he knew everything about you, all of everything, things that you probably couldn’t ever learn about yourself. all your sides, all the things which bring you happiness, anger, sadness. all your secrets, all the things you’ll never share with anyone else because of the fear of their reaction. you never had to fear jungwon’s reaction, though. jungwon was never repulsed by you, and nothing about you ever made him want to distance himself from you. gosh, that’s such a silly thought to him. he only ever wanted more. that’s all he could ever feel for you, was a constant loop, and ache for more. an ache which far surpasses the regards anyone holds towards their best friend, but for the time being, he’s happy to have at least earned that title from you.

“peas, yuck.” 

the sound of your voice captures his attention, and he would say it made him divert his gaze to you – but who is he kidding, he was already looking at you. was there somewhere else he could be looking, anyway? however, this information was new to him. you don’t like peas? jot that down, he thinks.

he’s at your place, ever the usual, sitting at your counter and observing the sight of you in your kitchen, scrolling through the board of recipes you’ve gathered on pinterest. that’s all he ever wants to willingly partake in; watching you and whichever activity you’ve decided has seized your interest that day. 

oh, if watching you wasn’t rewarding. delicious. you’re bent over the counter, phone in hand, but he’s far from concerned with your phone; not when you’re putting all his favorite goodies on display. if they could understand him, he would easily say ‘thank you’ to the soft shorts you donned, simply for disclosing the smooth flesh of your thighs and framing the plush swell of your ass so perfectly. your body, fuck, if that’s not something he really loved about you. over the years, he’s created a detailed map, captured detailed memories of every inch of skin your clothing has allowed him to see even a brief peak of. all the beautiful traits surrounding you, the kindness and grace of your soul, and nothing short of a smokeshow of a body to pair with it. holy fuck, you’re an angel if they’ve ever existed. 

he clears his throat, the dryness of it evident in the rasp it creates. his thoughts were beginning to carry him away, much like they always do when he’s around you. it irritates him to no end, merely for the possibility of missing out on any form of any sound your breath might escape you in.

“what are you looking at, babydoll?” he asks, his voice soft, still with a hint of the rasp he earned from his shameless distraction. the pet name always slips out when he talks to you. the first time it happened, you were a bit taken aback, but it’s not like you ever said anything in protest. you’ve grown pleasantly accustomed to it now, though, and you’re not sure of the last time he’s ever called you by your real name. that delights him to no end, since it makes him feel more  like he owns you. which he does, you just don’t know it yet. 

“just some pasta recipes. but after seeing all these peas, i think i’d rather bake something instead,” you tell him, straightening your position from the counter – a tragic loss for the perverted little goblin inside of jungwon – and moving to gather all the tools necessary for your mentioned activity.

his eyes follow you, almost as though they were tracking devices programmed with auto-targeting precision to lock aim upon you. shameless, greedy in his gaze, more-than-admiring the ratio from your shoulders, to your waist, then your hips. to him, the importance and significance just bloomed from every perceivably minor feature that aided in creating you. the subtly visible blemishes on your shoulders, the way each tendril of your hair spilled over your neck, the way your flesh rippled and jiggled from your thighs up to your ass as you walked. as might be expected, no different from all the other times hes ever spent in your presence, the blood began rushing to visit him in his cock. he’s having such a hard time, in such a vast array of ways. fortunately for jungwon, you always seemed to be distracted in some way– something he learned to love about you. because, well, it’s you, and because he’s yet to be caught solid and poking through his pants in front of you. 

“you really like baking, huh?” he inquires, the soft tone of his voice bleeding into the soft smile settling on his face. his voice was always ironically casual in a way that never betrayed his thoughts which were anything but. after all, six years is plenty of time to reign control over those things.

you flash him a soft, natural smile which he doesn’t miss. however, he also doesn’t miss the way your tits bounce slightly after your heels touch the ground, having elevated yourself on your toes to reach for a bowl. under absolutely no circumstances would jungwon miss that. as if it aided the situation for him at all, more blood rushes to visit his awakening cock.

“yea, i do. i love the decorating part too.” 

“i know you do.” of course he fucking knows. 

with the same autonomous instincts as always, his eyes attach themselves to the way a radiant smile decorates your face as you read the notification lighting up your phone screen. what’s this, he thinks. what was making you so damn happy, and why wasn’t that smile directed towards him? something as beautiful as a smile you create should only ever be directed towards him. 

“oh, yea!” you start, striding to stand directly across from the counter where he sat, phone still in your clutch. it’s apparent to him from the blazing excitement in your tone, for something he wasn’t responsible for, he wasn’t going to like this one bit. 

“i didn’t tell you about the date i’m going on tomorrow.”

for a moment, the world seems to halt in it’s rotation – jungwon’s world, at least, which so shamelessly, obviously revolved around you. any syllable following the word ‘date’ seemed to drift into a languid murmur as that single, treacherous word blared echoes throughout his vacant mind. the possessiveness spreads over his rational thoughts like an infection. the air surrounding him sinks into his chest like cinderblocks. the pressure constricts his throat, as if the words you spoke placed a hand there. no, not this, he thinks. anything but this.

managing enough self-control to present himself normally – normal for him, at least – he schools his expression. his front teeth sink into his tongue, his cheekbones even more prominent for a moment before he mutters, “what date?” 

you knew jungwon felt an intense protectiveness towards you, it was nothing new. one that translated into the way he demanded every trivial detail of any endeavor you participated in which didn’t involve his company, not just dates. going to the doctor? he wants to research him. seeing your family? he wants you to text him. planning a girls day? he wants to know how long you’ve known them.

a date, however, was an entirely different arena. 

your expression softens into fond resignation, your mind preparing to quell the queries you know are pending behind the protective gleam in jungwon’s eyes.

“he’s a guy i met recently. he’s a friend of a friend, he asked me for my phone number when she introduced us.” 

that wasn’t enough to subdue your best friend. 

“describe him.” 

oh, here he goes. the manner in which his words travel to you, the command they carry with them, makes you falter subtly – a certain sensation fills your chest, a sudden sense of apprehension, hardly apparent, but apparent nonetheless, melds with the fondness expanding within you. what was jungwon planning on doing with that kind of information? 

you comply, however, listing off the attributes of the man – the man whom you only planned to get a harmless cup of coffee with – like you were filing a police report. 

“does that make you feel better?” you ask your best friend, a sense of amusement with his antics betraying itself in the laugh laced with your question, and the tone in your voice that almost tells him ‘you’re being ridiculous.’ 

jungwon knew he was being ridiculous, but it’s not like that would ever stop him. he’s never been reluctant to question you in his superabundant way, nor will he ever. even if you think his reactions are undue, he just wants to be absolutely certain you’re safe, protected with every waking moment. the only issue is, he’s only ever convinced of your safety when you’re with him. 

a laugh escapes him in a breath through his nose. no, actually. his tension isn’t eased at all. he can’t tell you that, though. he can’t tell you that he wants to camouflage himself in a bush near the window of the coffee shop you’ll be taken to. that’ll just make you run away, he thinks. 

“a little better. just– share your location with me. even if you think you don’t need to,” he reminds, gluing his gaze to yours to be sure his conviction sticks with you.

“okay, okay. i will, jungwon. you don’t need to go all ‘hitman’ on me. now come help me choose what i’m going to wear.” 

before he could muster a facade of neutrality for that, though, jungwon needed to gather his composure. he slips away from you, muttering a ‘be right back,’ and rests his back against the shut door behind him as he arrives to your bathroom. it was almost a temporary oasis, since it allows him to reel his thoughts in without your presence – a presence he loves, but only serves to further complicate his turmoil, currently. he shuts his eyes, smushing his eyelids together as he draws in a long breath, allowing it to escape him once he’s confident the tension will escape, too. once he opens his eyes, reabsorbing his surroundings, grounding himself, his eyes drift to the pile of clothing you left in the bathroom – forgotten after you shower, he’s sure. with his curiosity consuming him, and his morality leaving him, he rummages through the pile until he’s met with the lacy cloth he aimed to find – your panties. he brings the thin fabric to his nose, allowing your scent to fill his nostrils with a hearty sniff. before he allows himself to drift too far into arousal, he simply pockets your lace thong – you won’t notice just one pair missing, right? without a single drop of regret swimming in his body, he exits the bathroom, and approaches your awaiting figure in the kitchen. 

none the wiser, how cute.

in tandem, the two of you file into your bedroom. jungwon isn’t exactly wild about the idea of helping you to choose the outfit you’ll be wearing for a man who isn’t him. perhaps, he can convince you to wear something of his – drowning your figure and proving his claim on you, all at once. but who is he kidding.

“okay. i was thinking,” you start, heading into your closet as you speak to him, laying the three outfits you’ve indecisively cycled through onto your bed. “maybe the dress would be the best option.” 

dress? oh, absolutely not, he thinks. even if he was left with only one ounce of energy in his body, he would use it to snatch the dress away from you, and prevent you from ever presenting yourself to that man in it. his mind led him down a path of various scenarios – one being the fact that this man would likely receive the pleasure of seeing your snail trail once you stood up from your seat, if he encouraged your decision to wear it. fucking bastard, he thinks, at the mere image, mere possibility of this unfolding. he wouldn’t even consider the man lucky, only ungrateful, in all honesty, because he probably wouldn’t even lean down and sniff it.

he must sway your convictions elsewhere. 

“no,” he responds plainly, scanning over the other options you all-too-eagerly laid out on your bed. “this one’s better,” he fibs, extending his arm to gesture toward the flattering top and pants laying humbly among the other two options. “i think it’ll really suit you. plus you love those pants, right?” in actuality, he knew the dress would snatch away anyone’s breath who saw you in it, but the selfish part of him only wanted you to look appealing to such an extent for him. 

much to jungwon’s dismay, the dress called, and called you, drawing your attention as though it grew arms and began to wave them in the air. “ugh, but… a dress would be better for a date, right?” you lift the dress from the bed by it’s hanger, holding it against your body. he knew this would happen, he knew you wouldn’t actually take his advice, but the thought of your date seeing the legs he staked an imaginary claim on was simply unbearable. “i want to really look nice. besides, it’s been a little while since i wore those pants, i’m not even sure if i would look good in them anym–”

speaking of unbearable. the thought of you finishing that sentence was every facet of that word.

“don’t,” he intrudes, his voice carrying a bit more force than he intended. he coaxed the dress from your grasp, uncurling your already loosening fingers from the hanger with ease, and placed the pants there instead. “don’t even say that. you’re all kinds of perfect. so i’m serious, don’t say that again.” 

you, not looking good in something? he could almost laugh at the thought, if it didn’t irritate him so much. it was so ridiculous and outlandish, he wanted to kick the thought from your brain, and into the trashcan. 

you fondle with the pants jungwon placed in your grasp, averting your eyes for just a moment as you attempt to regather the composure he stole from you. it was no secret to you that he found you pretty, since he reminded you nearly as frequently as daily. those words, however, being spoken to you with such honesty and conviction, was a brand new territory – inviting butterflies into your stomach that you had no idea how to care for. 

you clear your throat, though there was nothing obstructing it. then, you tuck your hair behind you ear, though it was already there. distractions, little fruitless movements you always completed on autopilot to cope with the fluttering feelings erupting in your system. jungwon began to discover the reason for these actions over the course of your friendship, studying each motion and the reason behind it’s dawn. jungwon could describe how you were feeling, even if you never said a word. that’s how he’s grown to be, with you. all the same, an almost pleasant feeling visited him at your current disoriented state.

“well… thank you, won,” you tell him, which he found endlessly endearing. you couldn’t ever let a compliment reach your ears without an expression of gratitude leaving your lips. “but it’s just… i was already kinda set on the dress,” you admit, a playfully sheepish smile spreading it’s way across your face as your gaze ascends to his. “it feels right.”

jungwon chuckles, almost bitter, but it still dances with the same level of friskiness you send to him. “why did you even ask for my advice if you already knew what you wanted to wear,” he grills, a very rational question highlighting the very irrational course of action you just subjected him to. his question only earns a giggle from you, one he pockets in his brain like gold as you toss the pants back to him.

“oops,” you shrug exaggeratedly, an equally exaggerated expression meeting your features. “i guess it just helped me to confirm things. that, and it was fun.” 

his endearment possesses him to shake his head at your answer, though he was never truly perturbed by the time he found himself spending with you. “yeah, wear your dress, then, but i hope you remember the false sense of influence you just gave me,” he jokes, but he also began to prepare for the impending loss of sanity he’d experience as the time for your date rolled around. 

farewell to any chance of you wearing those pants, he thinks. 

in coalition with the day of your date, jungwon planned to meet with the group of friends he’d developed beyond the separate realm of delirium he created for you. regardless of his constant stubborn refusal to be anywhere that you weren’t, he still found the time to see them. in fact, sunghoon was the entire reason why he even found the opportunity to spend each of his waking moments thinking about you – see, sunghoon met you first, and gradually developed a bond with you once you began tutoring his sister. one specific day, sunghoon invited his buddies over to his house during a tutoring session of yours, one of which happened to be your soon-to-be secret – albeit unhealthy – admirer. when jungwon laid his eyes upon you, his mind was overcome with cliches which he never imagined he’d experience; the dreamily windblown hair, and a sequence of slow motion which only seemed to be visible for him. needless to say, once you caught his eyes, the friendship between the two of you bloomed and flourished rapidly – after jungwon received a bit of nudging from sunghoon and the others, of course. in the same sense, jungwon beared endless gratitude toward sunghoon for introducing the two of you, although sunghoon would never allow that fact to slip his mind, for that matter.

“dude, she’s on a date? i bet you’re fucking pissed,” heeseung teases, taking another sip from his beer, the pink tint on his cheeks making it clear that this wasn’t his first.

of course he was fucking pissed, he thinks. even if he’d lived through this before, endured the duration of your dates on other occasions, it never seemed to pass any easier for him. 

jungwon’s shoulders tensed slightly, and despite his relaxed posture against his chair, his hand clenched into a fist upon the table where it rested. his knuckles worked, fingers dancing faintly as he attempted to calm himself. “yea, i’m pissed. but it’s not like she hasn’t been on other dates before. it might not even end up meaning anything,” he responds, his words only as hopeful as they could possibly be, amid the tumultuous images of you, being charmed and swayed as he sat dormant in this restaurant – the restaurant he often found himself retreating to on occasions similar to the current one.

a chuckle resounded through the cozy tenor of the restaurant, then came jay’s turn to pile on the punishment, as he piped up from his seat beside jungwon. 

“you keep hoping it doesn’t. but what are you gonna do if it works out this time?” he plops his hand onto the base of jungwon’s neck in a mockingly comforting gesture, giving him a shake that says ‘snap out of it.’ 

a sigh drifts from jungwon’s lips as his knuckles continue to dance. gosh, he doesn’t even want to think about that. it was hardly imaginable, the possibility of your usual doomed relationships and flings blooming into something which will truly keep you intangible. 

“i-i don’t know. i just… i don’t feel like i can tell her how i feel. i don’t wanna… scare her away,” his eyes remain planted onto the half empty glass of beer in front of him. 

this time, sunghoon chimes in, his lips curling amusedly, though not enough to reveal his sharp canines – he did hold sympathy for his friend, after all. “jungwon, come on. it’s been years. if you were gonna scare her away, i think you would’ve already done it,” he pokes, allowing jungwon to remember that his behavior still isn’t quite normal enough to maintain a best friend level, even with his attempts to hide himself. 

another sigh leaves jungwon, as though that’s all he can will himself to do. “you don’t get it, man–” 

jay interjects, letting out a laugh akin to a scoff, as though he already knows the words that are going to tumble from jungwon’s mouth – in all honesty, he does, and he’s growing weary of the tiptoe routine his friend is performing. “nah, we ‘get it’ just fine. she didn’t pick up on all your telepathic signals, now you look like an idiot all because you won’t shoot your shot,” he leans closer to jungwon for a moment to stress his point further. sunghoon and heeseung laugh, only providing more of a grating sensation on jungwon’s nerves.

heeseung nudges jungwon’s foot under the table, his smile still broad from his laughter. “i can’t blame you for wanting to be careful, though. if you weren’t so obsessed with her, i’d be all over that, i mean, goddamn…”

jungwon’s brows knit, and his teeth just might crack with how tightly he’s clenching his jaw. “what?”  

sunghoon nods, a smirk finding his features as he admits to his concurrence with heeseung’s crude revelation. “yea, that body, man… jungwon, if you let her stay single for too long i might just have to make a move on her myself,” his canines glinted on full display as his words pumped a nearly irrepressible fury through jungwon’s blood.

they’re just messing around, they’re just messing around, they’re just messing around. he urges his mind to repeat the words, hoping that the attempts of self-regulation alone will prove sufficient against the wrath bubbling within him. a familiar possessiveness travels through his veins as though he’d been bitten.

as jungwon shuts his eyes, jaw taut and knuckles equally so, heeseung permits another jeer to spill from his throat. “i swear, man, if you don’t hurry up, maybe i’ll just fuck her. i’ll have her bent over something quicker than–”

it took every grain of his willpower to repress the possessiveness, the ferocity, but those words snatch all control away from him. his eyes fly open, and his chair falls helplessly behind him as he leaps up, grasping heeseung’s collar across the length of the table, hauling the taller man from his chair.

“watch what the fuck you say about her, heeseung,” he seethes, his eyes manic, his words struggling to project past the anger in his throat – akin to the way heeseung struggled to breathe as his shirt collar dug into his neck. in every form, jungwon was livid, features betraying every trace of it, his veins pulsing through his forearms as he tightened his clutch on heeseung’s collar. when it came to you, his instinct to protect sharply surpassed any regard he held for anyone.

without a moment to spare, observing jungwon’s ravening emotional state, jay and sunghoon rise to their feet, prepared to aid the situation – the efficiency coming to them so quickly granted they’ve lived this reality before. jay begins to pry jungwon from heeseung, providing him with placating words as though he were a brutish predator. “jungwon! jungwon, calm down, man,” jay eases, his concern steadily dissipating as he notices the tension leaving jungwon’s shoulders, unwinding from his fingers, and lifting from his knitted brows. in spite of it all, jungwon’s eyes still simmer with his rage, stubbornly refusing to tear away from heeseung’s form. “i’m not kidding,” he states further, wanting to be certain that heeseung understands his seriousness, his conviction in his claim that you were strictly off limits.

heeseung adjusts his shirt, giving jungwon a light, yet chiding push which earns a glare from both sunghoon and jay, who only wish to see the end of this situation. “chill, jungwon. i was just kidding,” a subtle chuckle erupts from his chest as the rigidity begins to melt from their discussion. “i mean, why are you only getting mad at me like sunghoon wasn’t talking shit, too,” he points to sunghoon with his thumb, a nudge from the mentioned finding it’s way into his shoulder soon after. “you’re just gonna throw me under the bus?” sunghoon bites back, his expression exaggeratedly incredulous, though there was not a trace of any true bite within his words. 

jungwon looks away, a sheepish smile discovering his features as his friends’ bickering persists, unveiling a gentle trace of his dimple. he felt a little silly now – he knew he exploded, allowed himself to get riled up like a child. it was about you, though, and in that moment he just couldn’t navigate the ability to gather his impulses. jay’s hand slinks from his shoulder, a breath leaving him in relief. “fuck, man,” he murmurs. “don’t do this in public again.”

the afternoon following your date, jungwon found himself on your sofa, listening intently as you blathered about how disappointing it was – it took a certain level of resolve to prevent himself from whooping in glee, reveling in the relief that he could still cling to his false sense of ownership over you. nonetheless, he listened with concern.

“it’s just…  he was very… strange,” you admit with reluctance, placing the folded shorts you held on the sofa beside you, and reaching into the laundry basket to grab another item of clothing. 

jungwon’s eyes trace each of your movements, his mind blooming with images of you, sitting across from a man whom he had scarce knowledge of – merely his appearance and the fact that he’s strange.

“strange how?” he takes a moment to blink as his mind threatens to fantasize about your figure in the skirt you were currently folding. 

“just… he had a strange way of ‘getting to know me.’ i don’t think he was actually concerned with that at all,” the dismissive lilt in your voice signals your dismay as the skirt in your grasp plops amongst the pile beside you. 

jungwon absorbs your expression — he knows every overtone of that expression, as he does the rest of them. “what kinds of things did he say?” 

your shoulders deflate, a hefty sigh fleeing from your chest soon afterward. the reluctance in your eyes renews the curious vigilance already dancing behind jungwon’s, and the next words leaving your tongue would prove difficult for him to absorb, he was certain. 

“well… he—” you pause in search of the courage to tell jungwon, the most tactful way to form the sentence, wary of the manner your words would reach him. “he kept asking if he could take photos of me.”

the sheer crudity of the words that man spoke to you led him to inhale crisply, though the sight of the faint bruise wrapping around your wrist catches the air in his throat. how had he missed that before?

jungwon leans forward from his lounging position on the couch, his elbows adjusting to rest on his knees. the familiar protective glare glinted once again, his hands wringing so furiously that the sound of his skin rubbing together could be heard in the burdened silence of the room. he didn’t meet your eyes – his eyes only bore focus onto the discoloration marring your beautiful skin, attributable to only one specific person, he was certain. the tightness of the atmosphere hugged your body, and the stable pause from jungwon stretched into nearly an entire minute, offering you no consolation.

“tell me what he did.”

“jungwon–”

“tell me what he did,” his eyes finally capture yours, the demand blazing behind them piercing you enough to pin you to the cushions of the sofa. he extends his hand to lay hold of your wrist, the subtlety, the tenderness of his fingers against your skin contradicting the rigidity of his words. he would never hurt you, beyond any trace of about, no matter the intensity of his anger.

“he… he did this when i was getting out of the car, after he dropped me off. he grabbed me because i told him i wasn’t interested in seeing him again. then he… he looked like he realized what he was doing, and he stopped. tried to make it seem like it was just a joke,” the tears tickle your eyelids before you can even will them away, and the genuine terror you felt from last night began to swell in the center of your chest. 

the terror was accompanied ruthlessly by guilt – guilt stemming from the way you planned to withhold this experience from jungwon, in an attempt to prevent any pain he would be subjected to by extension. you knew how it would hurt him, you’ve seen it on boundless occasions in the past. even a small bump into the wall would have jungwon ready to send a sledgehammer straight through it. the gravity of the treatment you received from the man you saw last night could only brew an unfathomable feeling of him, one you never wished to seem him suffer from. it couldn’t be comfortable for him, battling a rage which could only subside partially from acting upon the mercilessly brutal images in his mind.

“why weren’t you going to tell me?” the agony sailing within his voice pushes the tears down your face – you hadn’t anticipated the fact that his misery would only increase tenfold upon the discovery that you were going to try and hide your pain from him. gosh, he could read you so well. the soft chuckles you make when you divert your attention to the joke you hear from the tv, the giggles that erupt when you’re promptly reminded of something you found funny months ago, and the way your lip quivers, the way you seem to try to still it with a clamp of your teeth, when you’re hesitant to tell him something. harboring an emotion he can only detect as shame, though he can’t imagine why you would ever ferment such a feeling when you’re with him, swaddled by the safety of him – reassuring, endlessly understanding him. the man you never felt judged by, in the slightest.

“i… i didn’t want you to be hurt or stressed by it, won. i knew you would be angry… i just… i didn’t want it tormenting you. i’m sorry, i–”

jungwon gently silences you, soothes you with a hand through your hair, guiding you to lay your head easily in his lap. 

“hey… babydoll,” an exhale leaves him with such heavy tenor, the firmness buried within his eyes only softening as he engrosses himself in the sight of your tears. he caresses your head, his nails providing a tender scratch that always dispels any burdens you carry, urging you to just let it all out, without saying the words. “you know i’m not mad at you, right? it’s okay… just… please… don’t feel like you have to hide anything like this from me. i want to protect you, from anything. i want to know, so i can,” his voice holds a devastatingly unimposing, quiet conviction that slows the rapidness of your pulse, reminding you that he welcomes you, completely transparent. 

“i will, won… i… i’m sorry,” the final streams of your tears sink into the fabric of his pants, darkening tiny spots within it. 

his hand slips from your hair, only for a moment to embark on yet another journey of comfort, coasting his thumb along the slipperiness of your cheek, easing the gush of your tears. “you don’t need to keep saying that, alright? you don’t even need to feel that. you just didn’t want to hurt me, and that’s so precious. just… that’s just not something you need to even think about. the only thing that could hurt me, is not being able to protect you.” 

jungwon truly did love the way you seemed to want to protect him, too, from all the situations you knew would awaken the fury within him – just as he loved all of your traits. in the same sense, he grieved at the thought of you hiding a part of yourself from him, something which caused you pain, for the sole sake of sparing him. his existence revolved around shielding you from all pain, and all the forms it may attempt to reach you in. he longs to protect your light, your happiness, though he doesn’t feel as though he’s done a very fine job in fulfilling that purpose – not after that man hurt you, and he wasn’t there. 

your head burrows further into the comfort of his thigh, your hand resting limply among the same space. “i… thank you won. i love you. from now on, i’ll be better. i promise.” 

and there it is, for the hundredth time. the sincere, though perceivably platonic manner in which those words tumble from your mouth. the absence of any deeper, romantic undercurrents almost carved a pit into his chest, everytime. though in all honesty, he could never will himself to complain about any trace of affection he received from you, no matter how friendly it may come. your proximity only sent him into a further spiral – when you’re this close to him, it proves marginally more difficult to stop himself from just smothering you with his love, revealing to you every extensive, intricate layer, every steadily developed line of the oh-so-painfully complex emotions he carries for you, throughout every waking and dreaming moment of his life. his life that would feel so futile, if not to be spent orbiting you, and he’s not even sure that the word ‘emotion’ will suffice to describe what ignited in his body as he came to know you.

“i… i love you too,” i love you more than the word love will allow, he wishes he could say. “and… and don’t say that. you don’t need to change at all. you don’t need to be anything more than the beautiful person that you already are. do you understand?”

you shift your eyes to lock with his, a feathery smile discovering your lips. you couldn’t ignore the new tears that nearly blurred the sight of jungwon in front of you, his words washing over you, stunning you like a tide. so consistently, jungwon makes you feel so needed, like such a necessary presence in his life. you’ve never experienced that before, with anyone else.  “yea, won. i understand.” 

his gaze does not avert, his eyes remaining present with yours as though a string of glue kept them connected, prohibiting them from straying. 

“what? you look like you wanna say something,” your words puncture the brief silence, tossing a bucket of realization and restraint onto jungwon.

he does want to say something, so many things for that matter. he almost hates just how perceptive you are, the only thing stopping him being the fact that he cannot hate anything about you. alas, he cannot seem to hide things from you; you’ve known him for equally as long as he’s known you, and you’ve grown to learn his mind, his mannerisms, his habits. well, in better terms, he can’t hide the fact that he’s hiding something, because he can damn sure hide things from you – he’s been doing it for years. 

“nothing, just… i hate seeing you cry. are you alright?” his words were fully, wholly true, though there was a plethora of confessions hidden beneath him which he could not allow himself to reveal to you. 

“mhm, i’m fine. i am now, because you’re here,” you allow a deep breath to run through you, your chest swelling with the cozy affection you held towards him. your instincts warn you that he’s shrouding something else, though you decide not to pry. not now, at least. nonetheless, your words brighten jungwon’s eyes, a warm light filling them as he allows them to dive into each crevice of his brain, emitting dopamine through each of their travels.

his hand finds solace in your hair again, ruffling the tendrils in a subtle shake, ‘so sweet,’ leaving his lips to fill the air in an almost inaudible timbre. 

“oh yea, i couldn’t find one of my thongs while i was folding my laundry. i wonder if the dryer ate it,” you allow the information to settle casually, sobering from the solemn spell cast upon the both of you. 

“hm? yea, dryer probably ate it,” he feigned innocence, pretending as though he were none the wiser, when he knows all too well they’re laying blissfully among the surface of his nightstand.

his gaze persists upon your form, his smile, his eyes unveiling the feelings you stir within him. every detail of you is so charming to him, everything surrounding you and the world he seemed to step into whenever in your presence. he’s seen it all, watched it all, fell indescribably enamored with it all.

‘let me take you shopping, get your mind off things.’ jungwon allowed those words to visit you the morning after he offered you bundles of comfort, during the phone call you typically receive from him every morning – he tends to call you, if not already in your presence, with the intentions of ‘checking up on you,’ and ‘wondering what you’re up to.’ in all fairness, both of those desires are true, though he also just loves to hear your voice. by this point in your relationship with jungwon, you’ve grown accustomed to having him by your side at all times, it would be strange if he wasn’t there. 

“i wanna try and find some new skirts today,” the sound of your voice seems to mirror the grace of the wispy clouds in the sky today, at least to jungwon. the two of you travel the sidewalk of the tranquil shopping strip, the presence of others scarce at the time of day you both chose – jungwon knew you would prefer the nature of these conditions, and he would too, because it meant more of his focus was reserved by you.

the sun blared warm, bright, in such nourishing rays today. all thanks to you for being alive and giving it light, he thinks. 

the smile so graciously splitting your face seemed to be fed by the bright day, and by the various trinkets and collectibles glinting in your eyes. clearly, you enjoy shopping, though he cannot pretend as though that’s something he hasn’t already gathered awareness of – his entire mind is dedicated to storing your interests, after all.   

he trailed beside you as you entered the next store you were drawn to, itching to browse. his presence loomed over you as though he were a protective shadow, the reminder of his protection placed in the subtle hand on your lower back. as silly as it may seem, he was never unprepared to send glares in the direction of any man who dare even glance at you with a flicker of interest or curiosity. you were his, after all.  

he watched you, admired you, basking in the way you always seemed to be illuminated – you were shining, even underneath the draining fluorescents of the store. it was almost as though a spotlight followed you everywhere, but the way you shined under his gaze did more than any hollow light ever could even dream. 

“this one’s pretty,” your words snatch his attention, and his eyes avert to the dress held in your grasp, dangling from the clear hanger. “don’t you think so?”  

though his eyes only skate over the fabric for a brief moment before returning to your beautiful face, he still answers, “yea, it’s pretty.” 

with a small shake of his head, hoping to shake up the thoughts residing there as well, he allows a small laugh to leave him in a breath. “i thought you were looking for skirts?” he bathes in your presence fondly. 

“i am, but that was before i saw this,” the dress persists in your hold, a signal to jungwon that you wanted to buy it – though jungwon certainly would not let you pay for it, just as he prohibited you from spending money on any of the items resting in the safety of the bags he held for you. 

“i’ll pay for this one, though, won–” 

before you can even complete your tedious sentence, jungwon intercepts with “i already told you, don’t worry about it,” his expression mimicking the candor of his words. the grimace you send him is not accompanied by any true annoyance, just an affectionate taunt.

“alright, have it your way. i’m gonna go try this on,” you further your playful derision as your tongue pokes out in his direction, the dress donning your figure swaying in a manner similar to the one in your grasp as you walk away. 

his eyes remain bound to your figure as you descend further into the direction of the fitting room, not faltering until hem of your dress disappears behind the door.

awaiting your return, jungwon settles upon busying himself by sifting through a rack of clothing in search of pieces he yearns to see you draped in. then, upon your anticipated return, the compliment begging to erupt becomes lodged in jungwon’s throat – he notices him, a man flawlessly befitting the description you provided him with before your date occurred, approaching you with purposed steps that shriek in confirmation of his suspicions.

it’s almost as though an inexplicable, phantom force seeps into his bones, his flesh, assuming control and steering every action from this moment forward – a force created by him, birthed by his possessiveness, rearing it’s head and jumping into his skin. kill him, kill him, kill him, choruses through his mind, but he’s certain he’s going to make him suffer a fate much more harrowing than death. the memory of the bruise on your delicate wrist revisits his mind, touring every wrinkle and rewriting each one as a vessel for vengeance. he knows, he’s going to kill him. 

your focus never left jungwon as you stepped out of the fitting room, gleefully oblivious – you hadn’t yet garnered notice of the familiar man approaching you, though the sight of jungwon’s eyes veering pointedly away from you roused an air of foreboding within your stomach. the moment you follow his quickening movements, however, a sudden understanding rings an alarm within you. 

jungwon breaches the distance separating him and the man before you can penetrate your frozen stupor. his hands fasten around the collar of the man’s shirt, ramming him into the adjacent wall with such a horrific thud that the decorative pieces tremble and slip to the floor. 

“you touched her,” the focus he carries in effort of bringing suffering to this man seeps into his features, his eyebrows dragging towards one another, a crinkle sprouting in his expression. the air surrounding jungwon almost blackens with the intensity of his all-encompassing resentment, his wrath, cloaked by a dire promise of punishment. 

you’ve never heard such a voice from jungwon, not throughout the entire duration of your time together. sure, he’s been protective, and sure, he’s gotten angry with you when you put yourself in dangerous situations. this, however, was so unfamiliar. panic clutching your heart, you hurry forward, placing a quivering hand on jungwon’s shoulder. 

“jungwon! it’s okay! jungwon!”

your words don’t reach him, akin to the lack of reaction he gives to the sensation of your hand against him. although, even if he found the ability to steer focus toward anything aside from the man in front of him, he certainly wouldn’t agree with your words – in his mind, it was far from ‘okay.’  the vision of this man bringing fear and dread to your heart, the sight of the bruise he left to wrap around your precious skin was in stark contrast with ‘okay.’  the man hurt you, therefore he needed to suffer, and that was the only sensible conclusion jungwon could reach. 

“you thought you could just get away with it, didn’t you? she’s mine. you don’t get to even look at her, and you damn sure don’t get to hurt her,” the steadiness, the ease of his words only further enhance the illusive dark air around him. jungwon demands eye contact with the man as though a spell forcing submission was laced within his pupils. 

as the hunger to inflict pain on this man persistently pulses through the taut veins of his forearms, jungwon yanks him forward, slamming him back against the wall once more with enough force to cause his head to bounce sickeningly against it. 

“don’t come near her again, or so help me god, i will kill you.”

the unease, the distress filling you at the sight of jungwon in such a manic state only peaks in severity. you renew your vigor, tugging against jungwon’s shoulder with both hands in an attempt to separate him from the man, to reach him and pierce the haze he’s trapped in.

“jungwon! that’s enough! please, let’s just leave!” 

in an instant, he turns to face you. the tension in his brows lessens as he studies the worry littering your entire demeanor – eyes nearly trembling, chest heaving, hands clinging to the fabric of his shirt with such quivering force. the words you shouted in your dismay sounded almost distant, as though he was in a glass enclosement and your voice could only narrowly reach him. now, however, everything seems much clearer. 

he releases the man, unconcerned with his condition, his eyes persistent in the glow of your frame as though you were guiding him from a dim chamber of imprisonment. without a second of hesitation, he catches hold of your hand, and leads you back to the dressing room. 

once you preserve enough control over your shakiness to change, jungwon guides you out of the store in silence. 

the door to his place closing behind you almost seems to commence the pending conversation between the two of you. 

she’s mine.

the words revisit you relentlessly, along with the memory of the devotion, the determination he held in protecting you. although jungwon’s protectiveness was no secret to you, the sight of him undertaking a complete transformation, moving as though he were possessed, was something you couldn’t have ever prepared yourself for. the feelings concocting within you, the concern, the unease, the subtle intrigue – you were entirely unprepared for those, too. 

“won, are you alright?” 

your gentle voice fills his senses, as a sharp inhale fills his lungs. he turns to face you, battling reluctance in meeting your jumbled expression, and he pauses, observing for a moment as you stand in his entryway. 

“i… yea. yea. i’m sorry, babydoll,” his steps guide him closer to you, eliminating the space as though you were magnetized. “i’m so sorry, i just… i saw him, and i… god, i lost control,” his hands ascend to rest in the comfort of your cheeks, thumbs cascading along the skin with evidence of previous tears. “are you okay?”

your mind made the question much more challenging than it should be. 

“i… why did you do that to him, won?”

jungwon could sense where you were taking this conversation, he knew you were confused, but he was unsure just how much he could reveal to you without making you run far away from him.

his hands slip from your face, landing among your shoulders instead. 

“i would do anything for you, you know that,” the words reach you so casually, yet you knew they were shielding a goldmine of much more, and you were not going to stop until you struck it. sure, it was true, but the intensity of his wrath stemmed from much more than a loyal friendship, and that much was certain. 

“i know you would, won. but that’s not what i mean. you wanted to kill him. you told him i was yours. what did you mean by that?”

the sofa to jungwon’s right side suddenly became very interesting. he couldn’t will himself to look you in the eye, not with the weight of the secrets he’s withheld from you for the past six years. 

“it… it doesn’t matter. i just don’t like seeing you get hurt, alright?” 

you brush his hands off your shoulder, though only with gentle intentions. moving to stand in front of him, yearning to meet his eyes and catch a glimpse of even a portion of the emotions concealing themselves behind them, you demand his eye contact akin to the manner he usually does with you. 

“no jungwon, that’s just not it. why can’t you tell me how you feel? we’ve always been honest with each other, at least i thought–”

“yea, sure. we’ve always been honest with each other. but would you still want to be around me if i told you even half the things i think about, everytime i see you?”

the raise of his voice, the tumultuous fire blazing within his eyes as he finally drills them into yours both serve to weaken your stance as shock harrows through you.

“what… what do you mean jungwon? maybe i’ll surprise you.”

there it is. there’s the leverage of hope you give him to cling to with your reassuring words. every fiber of his muscles, his flesh his bones, howl a pleading chorus to just tell you, to finally free himself from the self-invented prison he’s been rotting in for years. the fear, however, grips the key with such daunting force – jungwon would move everest if it meant you would realize the how he felt for you, how heavenly the relationship between the two of you could potentially be. the only issue he’s ever faced, is the danger of shoving you away from him with his admission, and facing the cruel reality of never standing in your presence again. 

“it… it’s not that simple. i’m willing to bet you’d be a little scared of me if you knew how i really felt about you.”

you grasp hold of his hand, hanging onto it with both of yours. “jungwon… it is that simple. please. i’m asking you, just tell me.”

your eyes, those treacherous orbs which always seemed to hold the ability to shatter any sense of reluctance he ever held. now, he knows – this is the moment, this is when it happens. his feelings will finally leave his mind, and crawl into his actions instead.

with the grip you initiated through both of your hands, he yanks your figure to meld against his as his lips meld with yours. his lips meet yours with the intensity of every answer to your question – he’s unleashing it all, everything he kept hidden in the locked box inside of his brain, all the fantasies, all the reactions he could never share. he’s unleashing it all, right now, in this moment with you, and he’ll never put the lid back on. 

his free hand cascades along the expanse of your back, the curve of your waist as is descends to the swell of your ass, where it decides to settle. the other hand soon follows, freeing itself from your loosening grasp as it caresses the same path of your body through your dress, burying itself into your pillowy flesh. though as quickly as they land there, spending a moment to revel in the flesh he’s ogled for years, his hands slink along the lines of your waist once more, sliding along your arms as he guides them to rest around his neck. he’s in complete control, painting your body with his demanding desire as he hoists you up, his sly smirk curling against your lips as your legs wind around him with no inquiry for instruction. 

jungwon treks the journey through his house to his bedroom, the sounds of his impatient footsteps, his lips smacking against yours, the sounds of your pleasured breaths passing into his mouth all fading into the tension-filled air as he finally, after much time to contemplate exactly how he’d treat you here, lays you onto the tender surface of his bed. 

once your body sinks within the plush of his blanket, he separates himself from you, merely enough to provide space for his hand to clasp onto your jaw, his lips still feathering against yours. jungwon presses his fingers into your cheeks, a subtle “open” dancing from his lips to caress against yours as he urges your mouth to relax, stretch wide. the sight your mouth provided him with forced his cock to press into your clothed pussy harder, reminding you of the extent of the intensity he held towards devoting himself to every inch of your body. your saliva was so thick as you opened wide for him that it sprawled from your tongue to the roof of your mouth, creating a wall for his tongue to pass through upon entry – a wall which served only to invite him, rather than prevent him. for a moment, he wonders if your pussy will be wet enough to do the same, once he’s granted the honor of laying his eyes upon her, the sweet girl. though who is he kidding, the desperation crawled over your expression, mirroring his own, so of course you were wet enough for that. 

his tongue pushes into your mouth, moving through your saliva with reverence, and he traces, cherishes every slimy crevice of your tongue with heed. your sounds, your moans only spur him to kiss you harder, press into you harder, cranking up the intensity of his fervor. he’s searching for you, for all of you, anything related to you. he needed more, more, more, of every delicious bit of you.

warring with reluctance, the pulls his lips from the kiss, though he presses one, two, three slippery pecks against your dilated, pouty lips. your chest heaves from the vigor he pumped into every second of the kiss, your eyes burying themselves under the gaze he pins you with. 

the gaze is quick to wane, as his lips embark a journey along your jaw, slopping kisses onto each bit of skin he can find there. layering praises into each press of his lips against your skin, he murmurs, “fuck… good, so fucking good, babydoll,” in fragments, the pressure of his breath puffing against the skin of your jaw as his breathing grows huskier, more taxing from the contact of your body and his own. he’s so, torturously aware of every point of contact in which his body meets yours, he can hardly restrain the ache to rut against your clothed warmth.

in a languid descent, he drags the tip of his nose along the skin underneath your jaw, tickling the surface as he lands upon your neck. gliding up the familiar course of your waist, his hand skips as it skates along the sweat beginning to bloom on your neck, his thumb aiding him in tilting your head back – a larger expanse of your neck presenting itself tauntingly to him. 

he inhales, deep and uninhibited, your scent diffusing through his lungs and permeating his senses in the utmost delectable aroma he’s ever smelled. as his eyes roll back, his mouth quickly presses into your neck, slipping open as he he sucks an utterly greedy amount of skin. his teeth soon follow, sure to leave indentations – he wanted to be sure you knew who owned you once he made you pass out on his bed.

the cry that flees past your lips has him leaning away from your neck, boring into your eyes. “don’t whine, babydoll. i need to mark you.”

his mouth pursues his mutilation of your skin, painting your neck in his saliva and an intense indigo of bruises created to remain with you incessantly. then, as he cascades along the fabric of your dress, reaching them hem, he asks, “are you ready for what happens when this dress comes off?”

though your nod grants him the permission he so feverishly craves, it’s simply not enough. 

his thumbnail digs into the flesh of your thigh, leaving an indentation which will soon be followed by others. “say you’re ready babydoll. i need your words.”

your gentle whimper, and reflexive twitch of your leg precede your reply of, “i’m ready, won.”

once the words fall from your lips, his fingers brush against the straps of your dress, urging them to dangle defenselessly against your shoulder as his lips latch onto your clavicle. while all-but-swallowing the skin there, he tugs your dress along your skin in a tender scrape, revealing parts of your body he’s yet to explore as the dress traverses the paths he’ll soon cross. only parting when he must pull your dress down the expanse of your legs, he draws the dress from your body like a breath, lifting it with reverence.

as your dress plunks down onto the floor, jungwon allows himself a moment to simply stare, absorbing, collecting, finally viewing every visible portion of your body, the body he’s been abstained from for so, so long. 

then, his gaze climbs your body and rises to your eyes, basking in the sheer neediness he discovers there – neediness blossoming from the mere proximity of your bodies, the sensation of your lips moulding, the submission of donning his marks. you have absolutely no idea how beautiful your desire looks on you, he thinks. 

“you look fucking beautiful, just as desperate as i am, huh?” he lifts your wrist to his mouth, his fingers breezily wrapped around it, inhaling your divine scent once more. “you have no idea how good you smell, or taste. i’m gonna devour you, you know that?” the breath laced within each of his words whisk along the skin of your arm, and his lips follow quickly behind their trail, pressing into your skin with worship, exploration. 

jungwon kisses you again, your lips merging only briefly until they land upon your shoulder, his hands guiding you to lean forward as he unclasps your bra deftly, lifting it from your body to accompany your dress. 

he allows the sight in front of him to completely submerge him – the disbelief, the surreality of your tits displayed before him when he’s only ever found the good fortune to leer at them through your clothing. “oh my fucking god,” the adoring whisper erupts from his throat as he leans down, scattering damp kisses along the valley of your breasts, the swell, the temperate quiver of his lips only sending goosebumps along your skin and further hardening your nipples.

of course, jungwon notices – just as he’s nimble in noticing any development gracing your body or mood. his tongue slithers from his mouth, flowing along your skin until he meets your nipple, leaving a trail of slimy saliva in his travels. in spite of the vicinity, he doesn’t provide any kind of contact – he planned to keep you waiting, for certain. not as punishment, but reverence. it was impressive honestly, the patience he presented, considering the strict abstinence he placed on himself from indulging in you. though now that you’re spread beneath him, he’s going to take his time unwrapping every bit of the gift that you are to him. 

jungwon’s tongue circles, swirls the skin surrounding your nipple, though he entirely avoids it – he can’t just slurp it into his mouth as he wants to, as he knows you want him to, he must wander the vast island of your beautiful body that he’s been graced with. shutting his mouth, he gathers his saliva, allowing it to pool onto his tongue, rolling his tongue out and observing wickedly as it coats your nipple, gliding along the bud in a warm glaze. 

a stuttered gasp escapes you convulsively, and your body attempts to retreat further into the mattress as your fingers cling to the fabric of his shirt. the sight causes jungwon’s cock to leap against you, weighing heavier against your heat – the heat concealed only by the lace of your panties. 

“w-won, please!”

the chuckle rising from his amused arousal breezes directly along your agitated nipple, a truly strategic move by him. his hand squishes against the plush of your breast, only urging your nipple closer to his mouth as he speaks. “what’s the matter, babydoll? you know i need to take my time,” his lips caress your nipple as he utters the devious words to you. 

“i-i know, but… but god, i can feel you,” your hips twitch from the symptoms of the torturous restraint they’ve only scarcely clung to, until he presses them further into the mattress with his own, the heft of his cock only encouraging another surge of your arousal, drenching the lacy tendrils of your thong – how sweet, the sight of your desperation building with his own.

“oh, i know babydoll… fuck i can feel you too. you’re making me so fucking hard,”  he knew you could feel him, the fabric of his pants expanding to accommodate his sprouting length, the magnitude of the stretch almost concerning. 

cracking his narrowly held restraint, jungwon encompasses your nipple with his mouth, sucking, swirling, and flicking his tongue around the hardened bud. when your hands entangle themselves in the tendrils of his hair, he hums, and moans, sending vibrations though your already quivering body which pull a jolt from you. jungwon only follows your body as you attempt to retreat further into the mattress, attempting to escape the flutters of harrowing pleasure that his warm, brutally slick tongue pours onto you. 

your hips push against his heft with newfound resistance, your hands willing his head to stay in place and wishing to push him away all the same – though your indecision when faced with such pleasure encourages jungwon to slide his tongue along the valley of your breasts in search of your other nipple, providing a surge of the same treatment onto it. 

the sound of your moans dwindling into silence don’t signal a lack of enjoyment to him – with a glance upwards, taking in the sight of your flickering eyelids and your slackened jaw, he knows you’re merely facing such an overload of sensation that sound can no longer spring from your throat. 

jungwon pulls his lips from your nipple, languid in each movement, still clinging to the feeling of such a sensitive part of you gliding along his tongue, and savoring each response you gifted to him. 

with a final taunting bite to your nipple, and two kisses traced with praise and awe, he completely separates his mouth from your tits. “look at me.”

your eyes haul open, gathering your scattered focus and landing upon the man resting just above your torso. his mouth still carrying the sliminess of his encounter with your tits, his chest prodding against your torso with each inhale, and his own eyes muddled and dim, a peek into the havoc of his mind. 

“my little babydoll, already so worn out,” he leans forward to seize your fluffy lips again, his nose running along the skin of your cheek as he continues. “you’re adorable, you know that? i just wanna keep making you feel this good, but it’s so hard not to just–” he inhales heavily, the fragrance of you reminding him to slow down, to delight in the feast of your body without a hurry. 

“won, i’m so sticky.”

jungwon is racked by a physical pain as you mutter those words, so tender, so sweet, his sweet, sweet baby. for a moment, he’s immobilized, the weight of the blood in his cock becoming nearly too burdening to sustain. 

“mhm… i know, babydoll. i know you are,” his lips feather along your cheek before he adjusts himself to rest on his heels, gripping your ankle as he basks in the luxury of your tender, seemingly intangible pussy by the torturous masquerade he shackled himself in for ages. 

“i’m getting there, i promise, i just need to taste you,” he lifts your foot as his grip persists on your ankle, and sweeps his lips over the bottom of your foot in a reverent kiss. “all over,” then, his tongue presses into the top of your foot, coasting along, tickling your smooth skin until he meets the base of your knee. “you’ll let me do that, won’t you?”

as you tug your leg back in an involuntary yank, jungwon’s grasp only tightens, fingers constricting around your joint. “you’ll let me do that, won’t you?” he repeats. “you’ll be still, and let me have my way?” 

“y-yes, won…” your thigh ripples from the sensitive throbs of your restless pussy – and as if it’s a pattern sewn into his bones, he notices. 

“god, she’s so impatient. she’s so mad at me for denying her, isn’t she?” his eyes maintain focus of the grandeur between your thighs, and he stutters an exhale at the way your panties cling to the eager flesh of your pussy. god, you really are sticky. though the way his boxers cling to the damp head of his cock proves his eagerness in a manner mirroring yours. 

“but she’s so happy that i’m gonna take care of her after all this time, isn’t she?” he embarks upon a journey of kisses to the plush of your thigh, still refusing to make contact with the subject of his conversation. “yea? i’m happy too. you have no idea how fucking happy i am.” 

jungwon’s hands skate forward once more, refusing to leave your legs as he inches closer to the seams of your thong. 

he runs his fingers along the lines as though he were tracing a careful mold for permanence – his fingers glide along each edge, beginning his course on the seam nearest your thighs, then running above the seam between your hips, along your torso. the butterflies flap shamelessly just below the skin his fingers dance along. 

a brief smile appears in it’s subtlety as your torso jumps and stutters, and he leans down to lick the sweat dewing in the valley of your breasts, transitioning seamlessly into faint kisses down the path to your belly button, circling his tongue in the surrounding space, a trail of his saliva painting you in yet another patch of skin.

“w-won… please just take them off,” as you speak, jungwon’s hands shift to pin down your wrists, stiffening your arms for even the mere possibility of you removing your panties yourself. 

“i am, babydoll. you’re just so beautiful when you’re needy.”

he releases your wrists, and his fingers slink beneath the fabric of your thong – he tugs, the lace bunching and squeezing against the flesh of his fingers as he splits it, the fabric weeping in distress as each tendril detaches under the heedless display of jungwon’s greed. after battling meager exertion, he allows the shredded lace to join your other clothing among the floor beside his bed. 

your mangled underwear doesn’t perturb you in the slightest, not when you could see the veins in jungwon’s hands, his forearms, pulsing as he tore them apart with ease. 

“oh, there she is. there’s my girl,” he adjusts his position, leaning down and lowering his face to your awaiting pussy, greeting the flesh with a prodding, lasting press from his lips. 

your hips stutter in response to the thirst of his greeting, providing yourself with the friction of his lips skimming along your lips in tandem. “won!”

his breath breezes onto your pussy, visiting your clit in a faint tickle as he presses his hands further into your thighs to still your twitching, the flesh cushioning around his fingers. “did you like that babydoll? she’s so sweet, you know. sweet as you,” and he bites the visible plush of your ass with the fervor to pull a chunk out, another chuckle passing his lips as you whimper. 

your opening meets his tongue first, and he drags your juices between your lips to meet your clit, circling your most reactive nerve and smearing the evidence of the pleasure you received from him onto the bundle. his eyes flutter, roll into the depths of his skull as he relishes in the taste, the lavish flavor of your pussy for the first time – god, his fantasies were cowering in shame as your honey seeped into his tastebuds. dewy, sugary, slimy. everything he could’ve ever dreamed of and more. 

“fuck, you have no idea how good you taste. i can show you, though,” his lips still maintain a wispy contact with your pussy as he speaks directly into the flesh. 

with every facet of the word ‘show,’ he keeps his promise. his mouth delves into your pussy with such intention, such ardor joining his movements – behaviors possessing his tongue with a spirit that only the flavor of something truly delicious could summon. his tongue nudges your glistening entrance, drenched so generously he can no longer differentiate his saliva from the slipperiness of your arousal. his tongue swirls within the creaminess surrounding him, the silkiness of your walls, stretching as far as the limitations of his muscle would allow. he slurps, sucking your wetness into his mouth and swallowing unhurriedly, the exhale that succeeds puffing blissfully against your pulsating lips. jungwon feasted, swaying his head side to side as he urged his tongue deeper, scooting closer to your warmth as he willed every thread of his mind, his body to stumble further into the hypnosis you cast upon him with the addictive taste of your honey. 

his thumb pushes into your clit, and he moans as your entrance constricts around his tongue, only strengthening his need to continue exploring your slimy palace. as his thumb circles your clit, pressing into you with a flawless balance of brutal and tender, your hands leave their solace in the soft blanket to burrow into his hair, punishing the strands beyond your willful knowledge, because the boundless sensations hurtling through you seem to numb your ability to discern the fervor behind your actions.

rapidly, unrestrainedly, in hopes of freeing yourself from the tension, the pleasure, you flee towards an orgasm that will only bring you so much more. jungwon feels you, he senses your impending eruption, and the blaring cries you’re entertaining him with only induce him into making your bliss even sweeter.

his tongue slops from your entrance, though his thumb still winds your clit, and his lips further coat themselves in your honey as he speaks. “mmm, thats it. let me know how good i make you fucking feel. you gonna cum? gonna be all mine when you do,” he kisses your entrance, his words drifting through the air in a blabbered haze. 

with every intention of chasing you towards your peak, jungwon’s tongue replaces his thumb on your clit, his mouth wrapping around the space to hug you in tandem, a compressing suction joining the spirals his tongue creates. the flesh of your pussy pillows around his lips, his nose meeting the skin just above your clit as he drives his face impossibly closer to you. his tongue pulses against your clit,  and your pussy throbs against him in response to each pulse – a rhythmic push and pull of throbbing and jolting. 

as you heave breaths of delight, whines emitting between each pump of your chest, jungwon’s fingers dive into your entrance, the sight of your ecstasy prodding him to set his pace hard, fast, mimicking the cadence of your breaths. 

your walls welcome his fingers with passion, clinging, fastening to them as he wars with the snug fit you enclose him in. “fuck, babydoll… you gonna suck my cock in like this?” though he carries no doubt that you will. 

the words send you tumbling, then ascending to the orgasm you’ve feared and longed for from the moment he removed your dress. the pitch and tempo of your cries increase on kindred paths, your fingers pull against his hair in a punishing drag, and your pussy swallows his fingers with faltering pulses as a sea of rapture engulfs you. 

“oh… god, won,” you pant, the flesh of your thighs and torso still navigating the ripples of your orgasm. 

jungwon’s fingers gloop out of your opening, and he lifts the flooded digits to his nose, inhaling with a heavy breath before closing his mouth around them. as he pulls his fingers from his mouth, the only moisture glistening against them is his saliva, all traces of your creamy arousal now sliding down his throat in a satiated gulp.  

“you were beautiful, babydoll. you’re so fucking beautiful. god, you’re just spilling all over my bed, like the sexy little flower you are.”  

a flower. his flower, in his secret garden, never to be traversed by another from this day onward.

he leaves the bed to rid himself of the burden, the barrier of his own clothing, a certain irritation now coursing through him towards the fabric – it’s the only thing preventing him from plunging into the offering you’re proving him with, all sprawled out on his bed after he’s tallied the days he’s spent without claiming you as though he was in a prison cell awaiting his dear release. 

he’s efficient with each item of clothing he drops, allowing them to plop to the floor with no regard for their destination. now entirely bare, he returns to his bed, crawling over your spread figure with restrained longing embedded in each of his movements. 

his eyes fall into yours, observing the way you observe him. the fascination, the craving your eyes held as they trailed over his body, over his aching cock without an inkling of shame – it almost had his arms buckling in their effort of holding himself above you.  

“hey, you ready?”

the sound of his voice, gentle as the blanket beneath you, softened your lust for a moment as you inhaled with a faint gasp, willing the words of reassurance from your exhausted throat. you find yourself distracted by his length, the size and heft of it, as it stood so painfully erect before you, almost reaching out to you in it’s yearning. though your gaze climbs back to his eyes, discovering a subtle amusement within them.

“yea, i’m ready. as i possibly can be.”

his cheeks tug his lips into a delicate smile, and his thumb nuzzles your cheek to lavish you in his fond admiration. “you promise? i’m gonna make you understand exactly how i’ve felt for the past six years. are you ready for that?”

“won, i promise.”

your promise carries a staggering conviction that compels a groan from jungwon’s throat, though he battles it’s full emergence. his hand coasts from your cheek, fingers feathering along your neck as he settles in a velvety grip on your thigh. 

he basks in the sight beneath him, and it’s layered with a fiercer significance than merely you beneath him – you’re laid out for him, your body pleading for him, providing for him in ways his fantasies couldn’t have ever hoped to mimic. you grace him with the privilege of pleasing you, and you return the sentiments of his pure admiration – each second of this reality seems too ambitious, and he’s almost afraid he’ll wake from a dream. though the sincerity of your touch, your eyes, anchors him with the with the weight that this is real, and you’re truly here. 

his eyes sail to your pussy, nearly growling in appreciation of the sight – your arousal pours out of you, flowing plentifully onto the plush of his blanket with a current akin to a waterfall. though it was your waterfall, streaming for him, all for him and the surreality was overwhelming.

“beautiful, wet fucking mess,” he whispers the praise as his hand curls around his ample girth, resting the weight of his cock between your folds as he rolls his hips, reveling in the bounds of your wetness without yet invading your entrance. his moan is gravelly, awestruck, intertwining with the breathless gasp that floats from your lips. as your hand travels along the planes of his torso muttering “fuck, won,” it almost does him in – his restraint nearly cracks, gracing him with half a mind to just ram inside of you, though his devotion to your comfort holds him back, even narrowly. 

as a drop of his precum drips onto your clit, rolling down to join the waters of your arousal, he unravels. 

“need you to look at me,” his voice is enshrouded in a shattering honesty, and he awaits your returned gaze, powerless until you grant him the certainty within your needy eyes. as you peer at him, the head of his cock prods your entrance, swirling in the wet, slipperiness pooling there, because of him. 

“there’s my babydoll,” and now you are his babydoll, fully and truly as he pushes into you, staring into your eyes as though he could read your mind. his hips press further, and further, maintaining eye contact with you, even as they roll into the depths of your skull. 

“fuck, i… goddamn, baby,” he’s entirely sheathed in you, the velvety depths of you that even his imagination couldn’t muster the euphoria of. breathless curses are all he can manage as he attempts to regain the bearings he lost with each inch he planted within your warmth. so, so deviously wet, and almost nourishing as the pleasure blossoming within you causes you to flutter around his length – he doesn’t want to mention it, for the fear that you’ll stop doing it. 

he wanted, needed, longed to share the swelling flame kindling in his chest with you. he needed to share this feeling, this ache, he needed you to know it, and return it so the two of you could become engulfed in a suffocating warmth together. though now, you were. 

his shoulders caged you in, imprisoning you, though you were completely safe, completely at ease in his protection. he showered you in ecstasy with each roll of his hips, digging, driving his cock into you as though he were searching for some kind of treasure – the confirmation that you belonged exclusively to him. he kisses you, sliding his lips down to the solace of your neck and reminding you in between long presses of his lips, “you’re mine, you’re mine,” without even fully withdrawing from the kiss – how could he ever remove any part of himself from you?

your volume, the unbridled bliss clawing underneath the sounds of your pleasure, only spurs his hips into moving faster, pump, pump, pumping into you as your feeble walls can only squelch in submission. the pleasure radiating from you was so loud, molten in the air, he’s almost convinced he can hear voices emitting from your pussy. either you’re that wet or he’s just insane, but both have proven to be true. 

with a familiar inhale, he pulls away from your neck to train his eyes in their rightful position upon yours. “whose pussy is this?” he still pumps into you, driving through your moisture and thumping his hips against your pillowy flesh, almost in defiance of just how good you make him feel.

“y-yours…” 

the whiny intonation of your voice cutting through your blaring wails draws a growl from his chest. “whose?”

“yours, won! a-all yours…” the words only narrowly manage to flee from your throat, the quaking force of his cock driving through you causing each of your sounds to stutter. 

“mmm… yea, i’m the one touching you. i’m the, fuck, i’m the one taking care of you. my babydoll.”

jungwon leans up, boundless shoulders still enclosing you, and leads your thighs closer to your chest, a subtle tenderness and control laced in the gesture. ceaseless in his thrusts, his movements only gaining momentum now, he heaves, “i own this body. tell me i own this perfect body. tell me you know.” 

the relentless piles of euphoria were beginning to reach an overwhelming degree, and you felt overstimulated though you hadn’t even drenched his cock in your cum yet. although for jungwon, it almost seemed as though you had – with such ease, he slid along your dewy walls, the endless cascade of your wetness continuing to smother him, devouring every ridge of his cock in a flood powerful enough to drown him.

“i-i know! body’s yours…” 

your brain hardly comprehends the words before they spill out, running solely on the aspiration to bow to jungwon’s commands, too muddled by the crushing ecstasy to conjure much more. jungwon understands, though – he hears every facet of your responses, decoding each syllable, clinging to every drop of agreeance he can squeeze out of you. 

all the time he’s spent in your presence, and now he can see you like this. all this time, and you’ve longed for more, too. “mhm, mine. all of this,” his thrusts drill into you heavier, faster, “belongs to me.” 

jungwon kisses you once more, pouring his newfound ownership into the movements of his tongue, and his hips. the sound of your wails progressing into airy sobs alerts him of the looming arrival of your orgasm, and oh, if he’s not ecstatic about being enraptured by that sight. he ingests your sounds, your delight, threading them into his own breaths, and the grumble of the groans flowing from his chest into your mouth in return. as he withdraws his lips, a trail of spit strings between the two of you, connecting you – it almost resembles the thin, silver chain decorating jungwon’s neck, and he wishes he could wear a mold of the shared saliva instead. 

“fuck… come on, babydoll. cum all over me. show me you’re all mine, i know you can do it.”

the immobilizing echoes of his thrusts, the graze of his torso along your clit – the sensations shudder through you, pushing and pushing you to untangle, to float in the electrifying pool of indescribable bliss that jungwon poured for you, only ever you. as you cum, now surging his cock with the downpour of your creamy arousal, you almost swell, your torso and thighs rippling as the pleasure courses through every imaginable crevice of you, every stream of your blood. as he observes, he’s enchanted, bound by the wordless spell you sprinkle him with – a chorus of angels should kneel in shame of being compared to the beautiful sounds you cry as you cum. your body, your untethered writhes, your twitches and throbs as your pussy hugs him in gratitude of the pleasure – he could attest to seeing, feeling, tasting heaven, thanks to you. 

as your wails subside, leaving breathless whines in their absence, jungwon’s brows crinkle – his own signal of an almost palpable orgasm. 

“i– fuck, oh god,” his hips jerk, spasm, push into you in his chase of final pumps. each spurt of his delicious cum fills you with his devotion, staining you with the reminder that he wasn’t in control of his actions anymore, only you. his heartbeat thrums against his eardrums, the sensation of making your tummy swell with his cum, the woman he’s craved with his every will, was almost hallucinatory. his fingers gripped, squeezed your thighs, mirroring the manner your pussy squeezed him, and his nails dug into your skin with a pressure ensuring indentations, further marks of his possession. 

his chest expands, panting heavily with the labors of his exhaustion. he slips from your pussy, steady, no semblance of hurry leading his movements at all. a final gush of his cum spills onto your tummy as he flops his cock against the flesh, bumping it there once, twice, to ensure he gives you every pearly drop. his fingers scoop the liquid, sliding them past your weary, obedient lips and smearing it onto your tongue. as you swallow, jungwon’s breath escapes him with a smile. 

he kisses your shoulder, skims his lips along your clavicle, then kisses your lips with adoration dripping from his own. then he settles beside you, tugging your spent body to drift closer to his own, only ceasing when you nestle into the safety of his chest. his hand sails to your thigh, lifting it with heed as his softening cock parts you again, slinking into you in search of solace. now that you knew every layer, now that he owned you, he wouldn’t allow a moment for connection to pass him again. 

“don’t you get tired? fucking me that fast…” the words tumble from your compliant lips, tickling his chest with your breath.

his hand skates along the expanse of your back, treating even your blemishes with reverence. “are you kidding? i could go again right now if you wanted,” a gentle chuckle leaves him, the rumble of his chest lulling you further into the drowsiness you battled to listen to his words.  

“has it been hard?” 

he knew exactly what your words referred to – he was expectant of your curiosity toward the torment he endured to hide his obsession from you, though he was almost amused.

“no, it.. it hasn’t been hard at all. i would do it again, and again, if it meant i got you at the end.”

never in your life had you fallen into a mere contemplation of a feeling anywhere close to being so cherished. you almost want to erase the memories you hold of other men, wanting to reserve every slot in your brain for your jungwon. every moment you spent without experiencing the display of affection beyond love that jungwon showers you in seems so trivial now. though, that’s exactly what jungwon wants – he wants to engulf you, absorb you until your satisfaction is centered around only what he does for you. 

as you sleep against him, he holds a brief consideration to snap a photo of the marks he left on you to show his friends, especially heeseung, but he quickly dismisses the thought – he doesn’t want anyone else to even imagine a single inch of your body. 

the morning follows and cradles the two of you in utter contentment, the memories resurfacing with surreality for jungwon. so it wasn’t a dream, he thinks. 

as your bleary eyes adjust to the haze of sunlight saturating the room, you discover a familiar bundle of lace resting proudly upon the surface of his bedside table. with fond annoyance, you shake your head, your hair skimming his chest. so that’s where they went. of course you failed to notice them yesterday, given the way he was mutilating you with his hefty cock. 

you begin to lean up, though jungwon’s hand snaps to your arm before your warmth could leave him. “and where do you think you’re going?”

“hm? i was just gonna shower,” his ability to sense your departure even in his sleep almost startles you, but it pleases you all the same. 

his head dances, swaying side to side. “not without me. you don’t do anything without me anymore.”

lily’s note: if you wish not to interact with this type of content, feel free to click out and not read !! please remember this is merely fiction and not a reflection of me or any of the people mentioned and our beliefs.

“This is Vamp Radio, the number 1 crime report station signing on to bring the crimes right to your ears from around the city”

The radio switched off and a creek of a window opened before closing shut and the mask at hand slipped over and thus began the same continuous day for the passing months.

Jay is content with his life per say. If you asked him maybe a few months prior and caught him on a bad day he would’ve been hesitant to agree but his answer nevertheless will ever change.

Having everything and anything a person could dream of at the tip of his fingertips, the luxury brands and trips just out of spontaneous pleasure, the money that was wasted away and somehow regenerated back into the filled bank accounts each second, the pure wealth that never ended and a perfect loving family.

Not to get it twisted he loves his life, just on the surface level. On the contrary, deep down he was not satisfied and he would never be satisfied with what he has.

He always wants more, leeching onto whatever he can get and suck it dry until it’s all gone before his eyes.

But that isn’t his choice. It’s because of the symbiote smeared onto his soul that determined him the perfect host alongside his already broken mind.

It was the very thing causing him to act like this. He was sane. He would never do what he does, always sticking to follow the correct morals and societal norms but he never held back once the mask covered his face and he was swinging through the air, leaping from building to building, getting away with being ruthless in the name of justice.

Meant to save people from all kinds of trouble and preventing crime was his dream when he was little, eager to follow in the footsteps of his father into becoming the most renowned chief of police at the station.

That was supposed to be Jay’s life and on a technicality it is his life, just not the one he or his parents necessarily pictured when they thought of him serving justice alongside his dad.

However, he can’t deny the thrill he feels when he’s just seen as Spider-Man and not as the preppy no good daddy’s money Jongseong everyone loves to paint him as but not you—You saw him as a human being, a regular living creature burdened by the world's sins on his shoulders.

You gave him what he’s been deprived of his entire life in the span of a few seconds. You were so close to him, a warm genuine smile on your face and the words “Thank you for all that you do Spider-Man” falling from your perfect lips.

He was servicing the justice he deemed worthy towards others, himself, and now most importantly, you—the sweet stranger who came to his rescue like a star lighting up the pitch dark night known as his life that spiraled into what it is now after a school field trip years ago to the infamous laboratory that held some of the finest scientists in the world working on human enhancement for the betterment of human civilization. He remembers it as if it happened today.

He liked to believe he was the most careful amongst his friends back then but every time he’s with them he manages to find himself in trouble. They all were messing around but after being harshly shoved into what he thought to be a regular desk, nothing out of the ordinary or so he thought and yet, he was the one immediately pulled to the side while his friend managed to slip away just like always, leaving him to fend for himself.

Head hung low when he listened to the spews of the random high school teacher who’s name he’s long forgotten, all while hearing the irritating stifled laughter of his friends off in the corner made his hands clench in on each other.

Jay was the most patient, calm and sane amongst the rest of society who couldn’t keep themselves together. He isn’t accumulated with them, he’s different and he takes pride in not being like the rest.

Others would be shamed for being the odd one out but not him, if it weren’t for the societal norms his parents and every adult he’s ever known shoved down his throat, he would’ve been living his peaceful life in the shadows to never be seen.

With a light tap at his head with a rolled up paper, the teacher walked off without sparing him a glance. Jay nibbled at his chapped lip that it broke the skin making him taste the metallic on his tastebuds, his head remained hung between his shoulders, ignoring his friends faint calls for him to rejoin their group again.

His chest felt heavy all of sudden that the hollow vessel was filled by an unknown source. Feeling absolutely sick to his stomach as his senses infiltrated with a sudden cold running under his skin. The palpitations of his heart banged against his chest as breathing all of a sudden became hard to do. The usual stable feet now unbalanced and his eyes dropping each second until they finally shut and he was engulfed into darkness that welcomed him with open arms.

And that was the last day his life could even be remotely considered normal. He woke up in the infirmary a new man.

So engrossed in the past memory that he didn’t realize he’s been slipping down his web for the past minute. When he finally realized it was too late. He accepted his defeat in taking yet another beating as Spider-Man before it even reached noon that he’s starting to grow sick of meeting the pavement in his suit.

Laying face first on the sidewalk for a second longer is what he needed. His limbs crying tears of joy for the single moment of rest through his jammed packed filled day. He ignored the bluntly moving bodies above him, careful not to step on the mass destructive menace or whatever the news station liked to call him.

He isn’t as approached as he normally is when the mask is off but he was still him. Just with the exception of being a part time superhero juggling the reality of life on the other hand and carrying the burden of his own thoughts on his shoulders.

But, it was normal for a person to be like this—to be so overwhelmed with life that you were sick of it. He decided to stay laying on the ground just for a few minutes before swinging back to his penthouse but the soft poke to his back and a mellow welcoming voice woke him right up and sucked him in like an addictive siren.

He lifted his head up and there you were, crouched down on planted feets but not enough to be touching the dirty street floor. Your worried filled expression pooling in your eyes but a sigh of relief releasing from your mouth seeing him moving but still wasn’t fully sure about him being alive though.

Seeing you for the first time, you looked fragile—way more than him that someone could come and scoop you off your feet and take you away from him which wouldn’t be far before he’d shoot out a web to stop the perp from even thinking about taking a step further.

The wind in the air was so crisp and cold but his body was warm, simply burning up the more he stared at you. He first noticed your eyes, just how shiny they were. He’s unsure if it were from the cold air sucking all the moisture out that your eyes were overproducing water or if it were from the hidden sparkle which dared to burst out in front of him to consume.

“Are you okay?” The pitch of your voice was soft almost like a whisper that if he weren’t paying attention to you he would’ve missed it and he’d beat himself up if he did

With the way his heart pounded out of his chest it nearly could meet the pavement if he continued to lay on it any longer but he couldn’t move his body. His fingers were rigid, his arms like stone and his cheek stuck to the pavement like a squished bug.

“Do I need to call for help?” Your eyes widened whilst a worried expression washes over you again, “Stay right here” Hurriedly attempting to stand on your feet, Jay grasped your arm before you could leave

He quickly retracted his hand from the burn of your skin through his covered hand after never experiencing that before. It was weird, so unusual out of his same day to day life that it was strange but it was nice. He lifted his head from the pavement, a groan leaving his mouth before he turned his head over to you.

Jay never believed in love that much. He saw a glimpse of it between his parents when he was younger and they were “in love”. It was described as a rush of emotions, it was there for one moment and gone the next but it’ll dully linger around from what his father told him.

With the ultimate revelation that his father didn’t know what true love is because he never experienced it—but it’s okay. Jay will make sure to tell him what it’s all about because he’s sure as hell that he is feeling it at this moment.

You were beautiful that not even words would be able to describe the beauty that has encaptured him. A soft wind whisked by making you scrunch your face from the cold air unlike him who was warmed thanks to his mask.

Your eyes were worriedly staring right at him, glancing over him to make sure there weren’t any signs of injury on him. His body felt like fire and the hammering of his heart out of his chest to break free from the confinement to launch straight to you made him lightheaded. The constant thoughts that screamed in his head all went silent.

The burdens that weighed his body down disappeared to nothing, he feels lighter. Surely this is it. The unconditional emotion that takes over your life and goes far beyond extents imaginable in the name of it.

Spider-Man was experiencing true love.

“Are you alright?” He watched how your lips moved with each word, all that was around fades to black and his sole attention was focused on you, your lips were perfect, so welcoming, so enticing that he wondered what it would feel like against his, “Spider-Man?”

If he didn’t have his mask, he could kiss his scary demeanor as the mask menace goodbye. He would’ve crumbled right before you because even though he does good for the world and picks up on the city’s lack that he deems complete nonsense. How could crime rates even exist when you live here? This city or more like he needs to do a better job at keeping it to not even a low but to nothing.

You offered a hand towards him after noticing his lack of movement, “Can you stand? Are you hurt anywhere?” Your constant worries filled his heart to the brink but he tried to push it away, how else would he have anymore room for his love for you if he got filled right off the bat

His adam’s apple bobbing up and down to swallow down the lump lodged right in between before carefully grasping onto yours. He felt the electrifying feel course through him the moment you touched. He held back from pulling his hand away, it was too much for his mind to bear but he couldn’t let go, he loved the feeling, the pain it brought him—it reminded him he was human.

Finally he gave some response, he shook his head. It wasn't much but his voice was trapped inside that it couldn’t dare to come out and expose itself for you to hear him. And it seemed to satisfy you because you sighed in relief that once he was on his feet, you let go of his hand leaving him cold.

Your troubled face fell as a smile brightened your face and he thought he couldn’t fall more in love but he was wrong. He’s heard of the cliche saying of ‘your smile brightened my day’, but he no longer believes it to be fake. It was more than true and he knows that because of you.

Your smile was soft and kind, none of the forced ones he’s met with whenever he’s faced with people, with or without the mask. It welcomed him like no other, into a world that he didn’t know of and was fully ready to dive head first into it. It was quick, slow and easy, nothing too extreme nor extravagant—it was beautiful and heart warming.

He’d do anything and he truly means anything to grace even just a breath to experience your world.

And you’ll let him in—won’t you?

✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧

Softly tugging at the skin-tight suit digging into his neck, the sweat being unrelieving of the heat accumulating in his body in the cramped closet. He needed to get home soon but he couldn’t miss your weekly night call session with your friend to debrief what happened during the week.

He stumbled upon this sacred tradition by mistake, he was swinging by your place after following you home the same very day you met, or if you could even call it that. It was just when you walked into what he supposed is your room that conveniently has a window pointing directly into it.

He felt so blessed, it was the universe telling him this was it, that it’s you.

When the moment was right, he slipped into your room when you were gone and crawled into your closet when he picked up on the nearing footsteps heading to the same room he was standing in.

It was upsetting that he couldn’t take in your small space but it would have to be for another time.

Jay could lose himself in the way your tone squeaks higher when talking about the excitement you felt when you received your recent paycheck and saw a generous donation added on top of your pay.

He smiled softly, quietly patting him on his chest silently for managing to get that to happen.

It was simple really, all he needed to do was buy many stocks for the company you worked at, become one of the highest stockholders the company has ever seen in history in the matter of hours, just to discreetly complain of how terrible pay is and casually deem it a random employees’ lucky day to give a higher extensive pay rise and it just so happened to be you.

Snapping out of his head noticing how your tone dropped into a loud annoyance of how the lack of socialization was making you lose your mind, and the desperate need to get out and do something with yourself during “your prime years” you yelled before it’s too late and according to your words “die old and alone”.

How he wishes to comfort you, to take that thought and burn it because you would never die old and alone, how could you possibly think that when you have him. Just look at how perfect you guys are for each other already, those last three words screaming loudly in his head on a constant loop, lose your mind.

As he continued to listen, swaying his head side to side as you rambled to your friend with the occasion of throwing his head back in a silent laugh at your humor. His hands rose to the level of his eye, he eyed the black mask hanging on his finger, he imagined where his suit would go in your closet after a long day of work. He wasn’t sure if he’d place it in between the oversized sweater that smelled heavenly of your sweet scent or the shirt that looks has been collecting dust or would it be better and would he prefer to have it right next to your drawer that held the paradise of your undergarments for him to have easy access to.

It was like you knew he’d search for them and gave him the trouble of deciding where he would organize his clothing to fill in your closet and he concluded he would prefer to put his suit next to your drawer.

He silently sucked his teeth, shaking his head as he took notice that he’ll have to take you out proper shopping to get real clothes, not the strings of thread sewed together he would barely call a shirt.

He dragged his hand down his body in an ache glancing through the crack of your ajar closet door and waited for you to end the call, it was already nearing 11 and this is the time where you said you’d fall asleep to some run of the mill tv show.

“You know I ran into Spider-Man this week?” Jay froze at the mention of him and the encounter that lead him right to this place, eyes darting closer to the cracked door his body nearly pressing up against it that if he moved an inch he’d creak it further open

You're laying on your backside now, one leg hiked all the way up and the other resting as you rubbed your forehead. You let out a heavy sigh that he couldn’t tell if this was good or bad. Your tone was too neutral, not the usual hint of rise in happiness or a sudden dip of dissatisfaction. You were just saying it.

Unable to hear your friend’s words, his face scrunched when you let out an airy laugh. Were you mocking him? No, you couldn’t. You don’t have the heart to, he knows you.

“He was sort of laying down flat on the pavement—face first may I add and I was scared that he got his ass handed to him and this was the end of the road for him. No one even helped him! They just took pictures or walked over him, not even sparing a glance” You scoffed out loud during your ramble like you just couldn’t comprehend it, the tension rising with each of your words, he knew this tone, you were angry for him

“I just feel bad, you know? I can’t imagine the pressure of taking care of this godforsaken city only to get called a menace on the news and not be given nearly enough of what he deserves”

He nearly stumbled back, his body coming close to banging into your drawer and exposing his cover. One foot over another, trying to stabilize his unbalanced state and reeling mind. He dragged his hand against face, the elastic covering irritably rubbing his skin hot but he couldn’t care. He covered his face with his gloved hands feeling how his cheeks burned and he can only imagine how flushed he looked.

Hand silently pressing against the drawer, he felt his head swirling into a spiral. His breaths were so loud and heavy that if you weren’t on the phone and paying attention, you’d hear him instantly and scout him out.

He tried to remain calm, thinking about anything that could save him from this rush of adrenaline but nothing worked. He knew he can’t just pop out of your closet with open arms and expect you to welcome him with ease, that'd be foolish on his part. He knows to take it nice and slow, easing subtle hints of the Spider-Man you feel so bad for, that’s how he’ll win the race.

Too preoccupied with his own thoughts that he didn’t pick up on you bidding goodbye to your friend and was now shuffling closer to the closet. His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets at the lack of awareness around him, the supposed spider senses doing nothing for him at this moment but he blames his actual self more than anything.

How could he have been so careless? It’s the midst of winter and your apartment is freezing cold, remembering you complaining about the heater not working for the 3rd time this month, you’re coming to get something to warm you through the night which he would’ve offered to do so if he wasn’t cramped in your closet.

His heartbeat grew faster and harder against his chest. He could nearly smell you right in front of the closet, the smell of freshly washed hair with your shampoo and conditioner, the welcoming waft of your lotion that he knows you’re almost out of and the easing smell of just you underneath it all.

The throbbing sensation at his crotch made his suit tighter. He has to think of something quick but it’s something about you being so close, just less than a meter away from him, catching him like this all to wonder what the supposed friendly neighborhood Spider-Man menace was doing in your closet so late at night made his feet stay planted on the ground.

He bit his already chapped lip, cracking at the peeling dead skin harshly from the growing cold. Even if being to be seen by you, to take in notice of his efforts of learning you, lodging your very schedule deep into his mind in such a minimal amount of time regardless of the grand amount of information he’s gathered, it wasn’t time for you to properly meet yet.

And like the heavens were protecting him and giving him the opportunity to save your first meeting for something far more special than him laying flat first on the pavement or you catching him like a bug in your closet. Your phone rang loudly through the silence of your room. He heard your soft hum and your retreating footsteps towards what he presumed to be your nightstand where you left your phone charging.

Seizing this moment, he carefully opens the door and like a train hurling towards him, he stops. Both of you in the same place, your back turned away from him as you answered the phone. Hearing your voice clearer than from inside the closet and through his mask, the strong prominent smell of lulled sleep and the crinkle of your sheets and obvious bed hair grimed the day you went through. It was so overwhelming that he melted, turning into mere mush.

The sickening part of his mind which he knew was controlled by something in him, unsure if it were the symbiote living in him or the driven love he has for you but he knew it was the best feeling in the world, the purest rawest form of love.

Jay wants you and it’s bad, it’s driving him insane that you were too far out of reach when he wanted to do things to you so badly.

He took a step closer in your direction just within arms reach that he could pull you to him and all exhaustion would melt from his body as you and him become one.

Peering over your shoulder, your phone growing distant from your ear to see nothing. The out of your lip grew larger into a pout as your eyes scanned across your room as you tried to understand the weird feeling settling in your stomach. The eerie silence made you shuffle on your feet as you brought your phone back to your ear and turned your back.

Jay panted heavily as he stuck to the wall just outside your window. He gulped down the harsh lump in his throat, what was he thinking? Being so careless and almost ruining your first proper meeting for his own selfish desires.

He silently apologizes to you for almost destroying everything. Turning his body to hang on one arm on the wall, his bicep bulging through the tight spandex that showed his obvious hard length, the damp patch growing by the second right in the center in between his legs.

“A party?” He heard you say in the comforts of your apartment, “I don’t know…” You pulled the phone far from your ear that even he could hear the loud voice of your friend

He knitted his eyebrows together, the tug of his lips down. He harshly stared at you, waiting for a retailing response of some lame excuse but a ringing filled his ear like he was flown so high into the sky just to be dropped into the ocean where he would reside and drown in, when he heard you helplessly agree.

Why were you going to waste your perfectly fine resting period, after getting a good pay, may he remind, at some party. He roughly banged his hand on the wall, an idiotic and rookie mistake.

Your head whipped towards the sound outside your window, your phone falling from your ear once again as you marched towards your window. Moving the curtains and blinds out of the way, your eyes wearily looked around into the dark night to see nothing. The unease sensation never stopped, it felt like it was gnawing you from the inside out waiting until you were consumed whole.

Able to hear in the faint distance of your friend asking what happened, your hands trailed over the flimsy handle and locked your window. Your eyes pulled away from it to catch a glimpse of a small spider on your wall causing your skin to crawl. “Nothing, just some spider that freaked me out” You talked under your breath

As your friend continued on her thrilled tangent that you’re finally stepping foot outside of your apartment for something fun instead of what she likes to call it, “your usual boring life”. You gave a half heartedly smile knowing she wouldn’t be able to see it but it was more so for yourself rather than for her.

Your eyes never left the spider on your wall, seeing how it watched and lived in your space so easily that it could slip through your fingers and disappear if you didn’t pay close attention. Not able to recall when the call officially concluded but your body moved on its own once you charged your phone in its usual spot on the nightstand. Remotely one step after another, you returned with a napkin at hand.

Standing face to face with the insect, your body felt weird as your hand hovered over suddenly remembering the masked vigilante from earlier today. Your closing hand stopped right before you could squish the insect, staring at the napkin hovering it. It didn’t move a centimeter from your drawing hand, showing no signs of fear towards you.

Keeping your lips thin, you smack down making sure to use your fingers to squish the soft material against the harsh wall feeling it under your fingers. “Apologizes to your friend”

You’re not a big fan of spiders, always wishing to keep your distance from the eight legged creature especially when getting caught up in their webs unexpectedly.

Jay stares longingly at you or rather at the spider—wishing that in his next life, he could swap places with the spider, yearning to be in its position instead, wanting to feel the squish of your fingers and lose all senses of what’s around to only focus on you, completely at your mercy as you destroy.

Some lucky spider, bastard.

✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧

It’s been exactly 20 days, 5:49 and 32 seconds in the afternoon since you and Jay first met. Now it isn’t crazy that he remembers that, it would be more insane if he didn’t.

It was the exact moment that he fell in love with you and knew that you and him were meant to be. Just like how he remembers that tomorrow was the day of the so-called party your friend mentioned on call he overheard during your week debriefing.

Jay knows you’ve been struggling with an outfit for the occasion. Now if it were up to him, you would have to look no further because he would buy everything you’d need. From the heels that would accentuate your legs, the dress that he knows will fit you perfectly, the jewelry that would make you shine the absolute brightest in that pathetic area the party will be hosted in and he’d pick you up in his car that he knows no one else would have because it was customized just for him.

He would make your life easier than what it is now. He removes his mask the moment he lands on the familiar wall right next to your window. You wouldn’t be home for a while and it was perfect.

His sticky gloves hands pushed against the glass sliding up the fiber just enough for him, he took one look around to avoid any sights on him and when the coast was clear, he slipped through.

Crawling onto the wall, he carefully brought down the window with no noise before landing on his feet, the fresh smell of you and your favorite perfume lingering from the morning when you first sprayed it before heading out hit him. His eyes fluttered shut as he smiled warmly allowing his lungs to be filled with your scent. He wondered what it smelt like on your skin, especially at the juncture of your neck where you directly spray it. And how the warmth of your body temperature would have an effect on it or if it would even have an effect at all.

Inhaling sharply as the aroma was able to rid all possible stress as everything melted away to nothing. He opened his eyes to see your room neatly done, he noticed the small crumples on your bedsheets from probably rushing but in the end it still looked effortless in his eyes.

He softly smiled to himself before roaming around your room, his eyes sparkling with each item that came into view. Your messed up desk scattered with paper all around and your laptop opened. Surely it wouldn’t be that easy.

Oh but it was that easy.

His fingers moved across the cursor and lit up your unlocked laptop. A smile grew wider on his face when he plopped himself into the very chair you’ve sat and slept on numerous times. The exhilarating feeling coursing through his body as your past remnants and his current self merged the moment he sat down. It was almost near perfection–All that was missing was you.

As he assessed the tab, he made a note that whenever you lend your computer to him, he’s to remind you to put a password on it—one that can hopefully be in connection with him.

But the moment he started reading over anything he could get his eyes on, it felt like the air was wiped from his lungs. He felt like he was flying before he was about to fall into the abyss that awaited for him to join you on the other side.

Immediately immersing himself into the unclosed tabs, his fingers moved before he could comprehend it. His eyes flickered around as he read over the draft emails to your supervisor that all speak of putting your two week notice in. You were thinking about quitting the very job that he is practically funding for. Others would’ve been furious at the sight but not him. Instead Jay gleamed wildly because it was like you were preparing for him to enter your life and take care of you—getting ready to never lift a finger ever again for the rest of life as long as he is there.

Moving from tab to tab, his eyes roamed over seeing your bills and debts and a bright click at the bottom of your screen screaming ‘pay now and efficiently!’ He scoffed. Of course it could only be done efficiently if you had the money which he knew you didn’t. Helping him back up his theory, an online calculator showed a negative balance that he could only assume to be interest you have to pay off. He hissed at the sight, something that he could never imagine before meeting you, but he doesn’t mind getting involved if it meant taking care of you.

Repeating the negative balance over and over in his head until it stuck for when the time comes to distribute another spontaneous generous donation to a ‘randomly’ selected employee that would receive an even higher bonus for every hour worked.

He hopes the money you’ll get can cover for your expenses just enough to get by until he can pay for everything for you in due time.

Placing the mask at hand in the mess on your desk, he perched himself on the desk as his palm held his chin up. The gloved fingers tapped at his cheek that he swore were freezing due to the cold leaking into your apartment.

He was going to move on from the current tab to another one titled spreadsheets until he caught a glimpse of the private browser tucked away at the taskbar. Furrowing his eyebrows, he moved the pointed cursor and pressed down on the mousepad and he nearly tumbled back in the chair.

Planting himself in place by digging his fingers into your desk to catch his fall that he swore he left indents on it but that was the least of his concerns. He brought his body forward and flushed against the wooden board with a hard thud as he grabbed your computer screen, eyes frantically scanning left to right then right to left.

He couldn’t believe it. You were searching for toys. Fake, Silicon, and might he add small things that couldn’t satisfy anyone, let alone you. So why the hell are you searching for these?

His thumb pressed against the screen when the indescribable blade struck into his body as he fixed on the submitted purchase. He thought it would’ve made his heart race at the idea of preparing your body but it pissed him off because it was obvious you weren’t doing it for him because you didn’t know him. This was for someone else.

Supposed to be a symbol of peace and security, he felt those titles thrown out the window, the rationality he once had was chucked across the room and splattered onto your wall while his fingers pressed, blanking the screen from its led light.

Too many thoughts were crossing his mind and the time clicked down on how long he could stay in your apartment until you returned home or until duty called for him and he was forced to peel himself away from the only thing that kept him close to you.

Shaking his head furiously to knock himself of the growing hazed he was in, he lightly slapped his cheek to come back to the daunting present of him sitting in the chair you’ve sat in that he’s lost count, his fingers resting on the keyboards your own fingers laid on, the twitch in his crotch tightening his suit, while the screen remained on the forbidden tabbed open of your erotic purchases that made him scowl.

If you were training yourself for whatever it was, when it would come to him, he’s going to have to do a lot more work in order to properly prepare you but everyone must start somewhere. You have to crawl before you can walk and you have to walk before you can run.

His jaw clenched as his hand loosened around the thin layer of metal and sighed heavily. Fluttering his eyes closed, he slumped into your chair, pushing his lower body forward. Spontaneously, his jaw fell slack as a weak groan slipped out when his hand rubbed against the growing erection.

“Fuck” He breathlessly blabbed out with a harsh gulp when he palmed harder down on himself, even past the distasteful anger building up in him, he had a greater rage to focus on

Spreading his fingers out he softly cupped as much of his shaft as he could in one hand paying attention to how he grew even harder, his head rolling to the side with a satisfied sigh when raking over his hard-on at a quicker pace. One of the few times he regrets being the masked hero is the elastane fabric clinging to his body that doesn’t nearly slip on and off as easily as he wished it did. He would need to find some material that would provide easier access for his needs.

His breathless groans grew more frequent as he continued to palm down on himself harder, pulling at his cock to feel more friction than running over it for some pressure. The images of your sweet smile made him wonder how your glossy lips would feel against his chapped ones. How it would stretch open as he slipped into your mouth to your throat. A guttural sigh ruptured out of his chest at the images flashing through his mind, how your glassy eyes would look up at him as you took him in your mouth. The way he would wipe or kiss the tears away, enjoying the salty taste of them on his taste buds as you swallow him whole and sip him empty.

The jitters tingled at his fingertips as he grabbed his twitching shaft at hand harshly. It flashed through his mind of slipping out of his suit just to properly rub one out. The thought of you alone managing to do this to him, he couldn’t imagine how he would act with you actually in front of him.

He jerked his body forward as his ears picked up on the faint clatter of keys and the creaking of your door opening. You were back from your walk already when you weren’t supposed to be back for another 20 minutes.

Instead of his blood running cold, it felt like fire. His eyes screwed even tighter and a shiver ran up his spine when his jerking hand never let up of rubbing at his hard-on. Each rhythm of his hammering heart out of his chest mimicked the movements as he focused on your nearing footsteps to your bedroom.

Jay knows he has to go like right now but the excitement running through his blood down south and north kept him rooted in your chair as he bucked his hips to chase after his loosening hand.

Your bedroom door opened and you rubbed your forehead with eyes closed letting out a tired sigh and throwing your phone to your desk. The walks that were recommended to you were more of a chore than relaxing.

But the moment you placed your phone down, you knit your eyebrows together. Did you leave your laptop open before you left? Bending over your chair and tapping at the keyboard repeatedly to properly shut it down, not wanting to waste the battery because your day-to-day pay would not be cut out to buy a new computer.

You looked down to the chair for a moment, the touch against your shirt warmer than you expected considering the cold the rest of your house was. Your face contorted into shock before morphing into horror as you quickly clicked out of the private browser tab left open, did you forget to at least switch the tab too?

You consciously looked in the corner of your eyes with hopes of getting rid of the gnaw in your stomach. As you awkwardly gulped down and closed the rest of the tabs before shutting down your computer completely and closing it shut.

The few moments of silence you were in was disrupted by the buzzing of your phone because of your friend who was beyond excited for the party tonight.

Your eyes screwed shut tightly, shoulders dropping when a heavy sigh slipped out as you changed direction from your bed to now towards your closet to crank it open the door and saw the pressure swift your clothes but your face scrunched up at the sudden smell reaching your nose.

Turning your head in every direction in search of the source of the prominent but yet faint scent in your room. You groaned loudly and made way towards your window and opened it, the cold wind gusting into your room with a heavy shiver as the crisp air masked out the musk.

For the past month or so, the same scent always filled your apartment and it was driving you insane. You were going to complain to the landlord to fix the ventilation for the 3rd time alone to somehow stop the smell from seeping into your apartment from wherever it was coming from.

The smell wasn’t repelling, rather you didn’t mind it as much as you complained, a sense of security wrapping around you when it was stronger than some other days but it was becoming bothersome that your place, especially your room was starting to become stenched with a scent of a man when no one has stepped in there besides you.

Peeking out the window to look left and right to see nothing but the other buildings across and the city lighting up the early night sky. You closed the curtains shut for privacy with hopes the smell is flushed out by the time you’re done getting ready and are heading out for the party that for some reason settled a nagging nudge in you.

✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧

Jay tries to make a short list why you would date him right off the bat and at the top of the list—the only thing he truly has going for him is that he’s Spider-Man but not without the mask is he. He’s only Park Jongseong and he thought that would be enough but he guessed wrong.

Anyone would be at their knees willingly or not, just to be in his presence whether it’s to catch him, interview or straight up confess their love to him. He thought you would just naturally gravitate towards him without having to lift a finger.

Yet, in this crammed ballroom for a party he searched on and on about the one your friend mentioned, only for you to give him a polite smile that wasn’t like the one you first gave him when he was lying face down on the pavement and you walked past him like some nobody.

This took a jab towards his pride. He fisted his drink trying to not draw any unwanted attention to him. The girls surrounding him, feeling up his arms and chest muttering about how his build was just perfect. He could care less about what was being said about him, he was more focused on the fact that you threw your head back in a laugh while some dude pulled away from your ear, a bright smile on his face as he watched you, an admiring gleam striking over his eyes.

Jay doesn’t understand. Why weren’t you flocking around him like everyone else in this damn party? Shouldn’t you be trying to get a hold of him?

His drink crunched under his hold, a frown stretching over his face with too many thoughts crowding his head and yet, you were off with some probably no good as he took notice of the baggy clothes the guy wore, not even properly dressed for a party.

It was disgusting how the guy ran his fingers over your arm as you shyly looked away.

He doesn’t get it, he has everything you could ever even dream of having in a man. He has more than enough money to spoil you so that you’ll never have to lift a finger in your life ever again, he can bring you anywhere you want, just tell him and he will bring you there. Hell, he can get you out of that lousy apartment with the walls chipping off, you call a home, save you from the broken heater and the few exceptions of the light fixtures that won’t even turn on if you use too much power at once.

He can even protect you from the sick horrible people tainting your world.

Think of him as the modernized and real life version of Bruce Wayne with the exception of being a stealth spider who will always keep his eyes on you instead of a bat that only comes out at night like some vampire.

So why weren’t you focusing on him? Because you were too focused on scrolling on your phone, the guy you were talking with was more of an idiot than he presumed to leave you for even a second, unknowing Jay was lurking in the shadows waiting for the right moment.

It was the perfect timing, he didn’t even need to do anything to lure the guy away from you. The universe was already helping the hero out for all that he has done. Karma really is a bitch.

Fortunately for you, Jay’s body didn’t listen to his mind as he suddenly shot up from the couch he was sitting on, some people too close to him falling in the process from his abrupt gesture.

His feet carried him past the crowds of people towards you while he shot back the last drops of his drink before handing his empty glass to someone randomly passing by. Pushing back his hair to the slicked back style he noticed so many people love on him, he nitpicked at his dress shirt to make sure it was perfect and free from the touches of others on him.

Even though it would’ve been more enjoyable to have your first encounter not be at a party but it would have to do. It would’ve been much more ideal to have his deliberate plan of precise calculation of the mishap of running into each other unexpectedly leading to falling in love at first sight then him asking you to marry him on the spot and you agreeing instantly. Then he’d whisk you away into the sunset, madly in love. That’s how it’s supposed to go, not in a cramped party with a stench so dirty that it took away from your sweet one.

He focuses on presenting the best version of him to show that he can become the one just for you—any kind of guy you want him to be. You want a husband—a friend, a protector, a pushover that buys everything you look at, that takes care and coddles you whenever you need him to, all while giving you whatever family dynamic you want? He can be just that for you. If you want him to do all the housework while juggling both his careers as you spend his money carelessly for your leisure, consider it done.

His everything is now your anything.

His strides were big and purposeful that you turned your head once you felt a presence nearing behind you. It was different from the guy you were just talking with and were currently waiting for to return. It was something more looming, heavier and down right tensing.

“Excuse me” His voice seeped down your spine like melted honey sticking itself inside of your mind that the heavy dark voice reeked of something that was beyond your reach, success

Dropping your hand to your side while your eyes drank in the man's appearance, quickly noticing the immediate difference in spirit. While the guy you were speaking to was simplistic, sweet, caring and kind, there was an obvious indifference with the man in front of you.

Your insides tingle as he peered onto you, a sharp look in his eyes that enticed you towards him. His demeanor was harsher than any you’ve met before but it was comforting rather than intimidating because underneath all that bark was no bite—you can tell.

Moving your body out of the way, you watched as his arm reached over to the table a whiff of his cologne of musk spiking through the air that picked your nose in the process making you take a larger step back from instability. Your head jerked harsher than intended at the smell reaching the back of your head to your subconscious mind.

Jay’s eyes moved from ahead to the side once he noticed you further away from him. The moving arm halted before reaching out and wrapping at your waist to catch you, flushing your body instantly onto his build to save you from your fall. Your hands pressed up against his chest with a silent yelp, your eyes being wide as you stare at him.

“Careful” The voice scratching your mind instantly, your mouth fell slightly ajar, your heartbeat fluttering against your chest as you stared deeply into his eyes

The harsh gaze was replaced with rawness as if they had been searching for your eyes in this populated world far too long. Feeling your warm body pressed up against his, in his arms. Jay was descending into madness. He cursed at himself for letting it get to this, he wanted the moment to be perfect but now he couldn’t imagine it getting better than this.

Without supple efforts, the world granted him this moment for all that he does in this community. Graceful to have you in his arms, not just a mere feet away. The shimmer of your eyes sparked his insides into a straight wildfire as he gulped down and retracted his arm from you, “Are you okay? Do you need water or a place to sit down?

Whiplashed by the caring demeanor from the stranger fluttered the insides of your chest, your mouth opened and closed to respond but opted to shake your head. His knitted eyebrows gave away his uncertainty and he was going to reach out his hand but quickly brought it back when your friend stood behind you and stared at him with wide eyes.

He smiled kindly at your friend shifting his gaze to you with a hint of sparkle casting over his eyes, his cheeks rounding more with the brighter smile, “Take care of yourself okay?”

Simple words did more than what he wanted and he was floored. Seeing your dazed expression before it disappeared and he dragged his heavy footing against the tile floor and away from you.

You gulped not discreetly admiring the lingering scent from him and the shape of his upper back and shoulders. Your hand flinched but you blinked harshly when you felt a dig at your shoulder snapping you back to reality.

“What was that?! Were you talking to him?” Your friend screeched through the dull music

“Not really?” The unease in your tone let your friend huff out in a hidden annoyance

“Do you know who that is?”

“Am I supposed to?” Your forehead crinkled as you stared at her wondering why she was getting worked up over some random guy at this party

“That’s Park Jongseong. World class trust fund kid from the Park Empire. You might know him better as the one that signed your bonus” Your expression morphed as you peer over your shoulder only to see the crowd surrounding him but to your surprise Jay was looking at you

When he catches you looking at him, the corners of his lips rise into a pleased smile, lifting his glass slightly and you return with a polite smile, your eyes lingering on him for a moment longer, observing how countless people were trying to get his attention but he never looked away from you.

You were the one to break eye contact, Jay saw the faint nibbling at your bottom lip and that excited him. You must’ve been trying to deny the obvious curiosity and need that he can feel raking through your mind all the way from where he is standing because why else would you suddenly leave with your friend, leaving the poor guy to come back only to find you gone. All while not forgetting to shoot one more look over your shoulder back to him.

One inch closer to you.

✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧

Now Jay knew he wasn’t staying at the party the moment you walked past the door. It was like instinct when his body moved on its own to follow you. No one dared to question his sudden leave and all merely watched the driven, forced strides he took out the door.

His head whips from side to side in hopes of spotting you before it is too late. And by some miracle the universe granted him, he spotted you and your friend not too far off in the distance. However, he narrowed his eyes when he realized you were clearly going in the opposite direction of where your place is.

Without much thought, his feet carried him as he followed behind you and your friend. He watched how your arms were hooked with each other to avoid separation, how you didn't look around once to your surroundings.

Thankfully you were blissfully unaware that you never needed to worry about that anymore but by the looks of it, you already weren’t. He’s there to protect you—he means it is why he exists.

As you were walking with your friend, you slowed down before peering over your shoulder. An evident frown stretching your face to the sight of the empty sidewalk.

“What’s wrong?” Your friend questioned when she realized your abrupt stop, you scanned around the area one last time before looking back at her with a smile

“Nothing, just wanted to admire the scenery before we headed back to yours”

Jay, on the other hand standing on a neighboring building rooftop, grinned down when he saw your peering eyes around the area. The wrinkled mask loosened at his palm before he stretched out the opening and dove his head into it without any issues.

Not another moment wasted as he started running off from the rooftop he was on to the next one. His legs running faster than what his mind could comprehend but why would it even matter when he could see how your face scrunched in the wind, how your eyes fluttered close from the gust.

Would you still have those reactions when he is swinging to whisk you into an endless paradise or would you keep your eyes on him forever? What he would do to experience that in this moment.

Shooting his hand to grasp the shot web to follow when you crossed the street to ensure your safety–just like how his duty called for him to do as your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. You’d never have to worry about the dangers near you because like hell was he going to allow anything to happen to you.

After what felt like decades, you and your friend stopped in front of a townhouse. A rage suddenly flooded Jay when the door opened and it was a male. He gave a sickeningly sweet smile as he moved to the side just enough for the two of you to enter without a care in the world. His heart hurts at the sight, how could you be so trusting towards someone that wasn’t him? Only he can protect you in this life, no one else could care for you the way he could with or without the mask.

His fingers balled into fists, teeth gritting against another but he takes a heavy breath in order to rationalize himself. Roughly shaking his head and shooting a web to land on the building and sending his body forward, he will just need to keep an eye on you all night.

However the closer he got to the random window, a shadow inched closer and your figure appeared. His heart climbed up his throat and he nearly tumbled when the male and your friend gave a small peck on the lips as you reached for the drapes with a drowsy smile of your own.

Turning your head to the window, Jay immediately redirects himself from sight and into the shadows, mixing as one with his black suit and the dark night—an opportunity presenting itself at the palm of his hands that he would dare look over.

Your brows furrowed at the faint whoosh and faint darker shadow. You rubbed your eyes making your vision blur however it fades out when the drapes fall down and block your view.

With a mind too meddled and not hyper focused to a male that you left at the party but had your attention on the sleek outfit of the supposed Park Jongseong. You stared off in the distance for a minute before shaking your head and walked back to your friend and her boyfriend–thankful that he’s letting you sleep the night to pass the hangover to happen.

Yet, when they thought you weren’t looking, you saw how they looked to each other, how they held one another with faint grasp and your heart churned, mouth swishing side to side.

You wanted to get accustomed to the life you now have on your own, focusing on yourself rather than other things but the feel of loneliness started to rise worsen but you didn’t have the leisure to worry about feelings of love when you had to worry about your apartment falling apart and how your unexpected rising paychecks will help pay the bills.

And most importantly trying to push down the anxiety filling you that you hadn’t told anyone about. It was something that made you consciously look over your shoulder, constantly feeling a pair of eyes always on you, but there was never anything that proved that there was.

Deep down you wish for something–anything to be bestowed upon you to entangle yourself with to get your mind off of it and experience the unexpected.

✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧

Adjusting the camera perfectly appointed to your bedroom window. Jay couldn’t be happig because it’s always been on his mind to do this but he was just too scared to actually go through with it.

That was until tonight’s interaction with you, where he felt his fear gone.

He peeked his masked face in frame and while you couldn’t see it physically, you could definitely hear it in his voice when he dictates day 1 of his on-going live stresm of you to your number 1 fan—Spider-Man.

He swung himself to the side of your building and opened the window. One foot after another as he crawls through some barrier that keeps you from him always. Before he could fully immerse into your room, he turns around and waves goodbye, the bright smile never leaving his face.

He really wished there was a clear explanation to it. It wasn’t his fault and just who is he to go against fate.

When he steps foot into your room, his body crumbles to the ground in relief of being back home.

Ripping off his mask and taking a waft of air at your lingering scent in the air. Jay picks up his head from the floor and looks around, the smell in the air is different and he notices the mess scattered around your room.

You must’ve been stressed for the party, he means you rarely go out that isn’t for your job, groceries, or for the walks to reconnect with nature. So he could only assume that you went all out. It must’ve been so cute having you run around your room to look as gorgeous as you did tonight.

Pushing himself onto his feet and neatly placing his mask on your bed, he turns to take in your entire room. With quiet steps after another, he walks over to your rundown vanity. The scratches on the wood at the side but the clear polish made it shine clear that he notes down to either revamp your entire apartment or have you come live with him right off the bat to save you.

The tips of his fingers glided across the jewelry sprawled out, he picked up on the discarded ring and ran it carefully over his fingers. He smiled softly before lifting his left hand and placing it at the tip of his ring finger.

Looking back to the mess on your vanity, he sees the brand new opened perfume bottle. He carefully pocketed the ring into his pocket and picked up the bottle and brought it to his nose, inhaling deeply to memorize the new scent, his eyes fluttering close as he hummed.

How long were you keeping this saved? You must’ve been waiting for the perfect time to showcase this and he can only picture you excitedly spraying the mist onto your skin in hopes that it lasts you the entire night.

It makes me mad to think he wasn’t the first one to smell it but he was sure to be the last to. But it was more sad to anyone with poor senses or in general, that it would’ve faded but not for him. He can smell it like how it must’ve smelt like when you first put it in. His head felt dizzy the more inhales he took with it directly under his nose.

Tightening the hold on the bottle, he rips his head away in a huff of fresh air. When he opens his eyes, that’s when the bottle falls to the floor but unseemingly keeping its structure and not shattering the glass. His steps are robot-like, his breath hitching the closer he gets to your bed.

Surely it's not what he thinks it is, there is no way that you would’ve- But you did.

Your crumbled up panties discarded right next to his mask.

Jay lost his balance as he tumbled to his knees and crawled towards the undergarment. The gloved covered hands reached out to hover over the piece, he loudly sucked a breath at the burn through his suit to his skin when he was right above it.

He was unwilling to lose this moment, his mind shuts off to grab the soft material and he slowly raises it. Your panty hangs from his finger before he stretches out to maniacally laugh at the sight of the garment—a used one at that. Bringing it closer to his face, he nudged his nose to make his head heavy and lull to the side in a chase of the sweet scent.

Quickly engulfing his entire face into the scent. his body growing weak that he plops on your bed and his feet kicking him up until he lands square in the ruined bedding. It was nothing compared to the one at his but it feels more like paradise than anything he’s ever gotten close to.

Curling up into himself, he rubbed into your panties, inhaling the dizzying scent that filled his lungs. Your sheets even smelt like you, his hand gripped at them and toyed with the fabric under his whitening knuckles.

“Fuck” He groaned softly as he jerked his lower body for a relief of friction, “So sweet” He slurred his speech

Rocking his body into your mattress, each jerk sending a wave of pleasure down south. He held your used panty tighter as he stuck on his tongue and dragged it across the fabric. It wasn’t your pussy but it’ll have to do.

A loud groan ripped from his throat at the faint taste that melted onto his taste bud making him lightheaded.

He knows he shouldn’t be here in the first place, he needs to be patrolling the night. Yet, knowing that you were safe and sound, the weight on his shoulders disappeared and all worries melted away.

Jay continued to rock his hips harder into your mattress, his hand digging the panties harder over his mouth and nose with a need of more. The desire for the mere item to consume him whole but not able to frustrated him yet, it made him harder.

“S-Shit” He messily blabbed through your panties to your sheets. Gripping the undergarment with his teeth and tugging at the item as he shifted his position, he laid flat on his stomach and he moaned at the new friction

His body felt light like how it always feels whenever he was swinging around the city late at night. Jay’s fist tightened over his face, forcing himself to only inhale the fragrance of you. The shifts at his cock, his eyes fluttered down to the growing wet patch through his suit. A blush burned his cheeks however his heart raced at the revelation.

A sharp breath and a harsher thrust into your bed had him whining loudly, his bottom lip shivering at the feel. Each movement tickles his length, Jay’s heart raced at the thought that you’ve slept in this very place—comfortably curled in your bed, switching side to side to find the perfect position.

The small sleeping habits you have of cuddling your pillow close to your chest that your breasts pop out or how you prefer sleeping on one side more than the other but his favorite, the one he relished in every second of every single day when he saw it, is when you hike up your leg and there is a clear view of the shape of your ass.

There were times that we swore he could make out the mound shape of your cunt.

A twitch of his cock made him whimper as he rutted his hips faster, the lack of oxygen causing his eyes to feel heavy and unable to lift themselves for more than a second before dropping closed. “Please. More, I need you” He panted heavily

Trying to regulate his breathing was a failure when all of his senses were filled with you and yet, he wouldn’t want it any other way. He rocks his hips to the side before motioning them up and down. Moving his head in the same motion, he took deep breaths, he stuck out his tongue again and dragged it over the damping undergarment. Opening his mouth his fingers dig the material into his mouth to clamp his teeth down on it.

He slightly choked at the object in his mouth, gagging around the material as he pushed it down further his throat. Something was taking over his mind, a dark cloud forming that engulfed him whole. A needed to swallow you up, to urge to merge his body with yours so that you shelter and hold his all within a piece of you.

A smearing of his soul with yours like how the symbiote smeared into his.

Loud strained noises bounced off your bedroom walls as his hips stuttered, his throat constricting around the soft fabric before being coughed open as he moaned loudly when the knot in his stomach snapped and the wet feeling formed at his groin. He shakes in your bed at the exhilaration and his teeth clamping harder down your panties, rubbing his head over the material as he continues to slowly move his hips.

Every movement made him jolt at the stimulation yet, that didn’t stop him. He continued to rut even faster, a hazy feeling in his head made him feel like consciousness was slowly slipping in and out of him. Unsure if it was the leftover alcohol in his system or just you, he hoped it was the latter because he needed more of it.

Each weak thrust made the stimulation worse, his cock jumping but the dampening only worsened. His release spreads through his suit and onto your sheets, messing up a patch on them. After years of having nothing and months of not even touching himself, it all accumulated over time. The restraints held his growing hard-on back but he doesn’t know how much longer he can contain himself.

He reaches to the neckline to slowly tug at the spandex and slowly peel it off his sweaty skin. Without the uniform he is Park Jay—Park Jongseong the man you don’t pay attention to but with due time you will.

Thankfully, he doesn’t fret when it comes to exposing himself for you regardless of who he is portraying—Spider-Man, Jay, Jongseong, or whatever. He will drop the depths of heaven, hell and earth for you if you ask. In return all he asks is for your love and heart for life.

Since now Jay offers his all to you, body and soul.

✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧

It was freezing cold. Anyone in their right mind would be bundled up to beat it, you just seemed to not follow through. Because fucking hell, you being stripped naked, sprawled on your bed and legs spread wide open to the side thanks to the package hosting the silicone pleasure finally arrived that you didn’t hesitate to use it to release the built up frustration.

Jay was on his merry way to do his last check in on you at the end of the week where he allows himself to wind down and listen to the weekly checkup you do with your friend through the phone.

But he noticed the time swinging around for the 5th time, instead of usually being in bed and sleeping. Your lamp was still on, especially considering how you try to ration your electricity to minimize the bill.

It wasn’t a surprise nor new when he swung closer by your window to check what’s going on. He never thought he’d see something like that so soon but it was perfect.

Even if there was a glass preventing him from reaching you, he swore he could feel the warmth of your body. The cold sweater weather diminished to nothing as you plunged the toy deep inside of your glistening cunt.

The muffled sound of squelching and lewd sounds from inside your room lulled him and swung him around like a Marinette that you controlled.

While it wasn’t too far off from the truth considering how everything he does is for you, it didn’t demolish the feeling he was still getting. In his mind, he would do anything you could ever wish from him. How you would use that against him is something he could only wonder but dream for.

Forced to peek through the corner of your window, he watched you breathe heavily, your body withering every now and then to the pleasure.

Even if he may have been under the weather at first of your purchase, Jay reminds himself it’s for the better. Since he can’t be with you and take care of you the way he should be, you have to improvise until it is time.

He doesn’t know how much time he spent, the black mask blending into the night that he knew no one could see him. What he did know was that he should be heading home soon because he has an early meeting and he’ll hear it from his secretary if he’s a minute late.

But you were a sight that he couldn’t rip himself away from. Jay’s heart was hammering out of his chest that even if you were separated from him, there was no way you couldn’t hear it.

Your body was arching off your bed, seeming that you found the spot that had you seeing stars. You slapped a hand over your mouth to what he assumes it to mute the sounds coming from you but he grows angry.

He growls through his teeth and presses his ear against the wall not caring of the thud he made because he was more concerned of not hearing the beautiful sounds he knows were omitting from you.

He peeks through his peripheral view with the side of his face plastered on the freezing surface to the sight of your contorting face, the hand that held your mouth now fisting the sheets and your bottom lip raw by how much you kept biting on it.

While Jay couldn’t do much trying to support his body to your wall like a bug, he felt the excitement rushing through his body and he felt dizzy. He couldn’t take his eyes off of your body, how your shirt bundled over your tits, your nipples perked from the cold breeze and the goosebumps all over your skin.

Your pussy on full display and spread apart by the rather small toy. It shines like a diamond being reflected by light just by how wet you are. His heart aches at the thought of leaving you like this. That you had gone so long without someone taking care of you that this resorted to this method of false pleasure.

But he wants to scold you more for carelessly leaving your blinds and curtains wide open to the possibility of weirdos out there watching you.

Thankfully, you always have him to look out for you and wouldn’t allow some sicko to get near you or even have the thought of doing so. He takes a mental note to build something that doesn’t allow anyone else to look in or out.

There should be no reason why people need to look inside the humble abode that is yours even if it may be run down and not the best. It was still yours, and the saying goes. Whatever is yours is his and whatever is his, is completely and utterly yours.

So he will abide by it, he’ll make sure you do the same. That’s why he shifted on his arm carrying his entire body, he struggled to cup his hurting cock but when he grasped it, he let out a strained moan. He softly knocked his head to the wall and fluttered his eyes shut.

Even with the thin layer of clothing blocking him, it felt more than if he was stripped naked because he was doing it with you. Each push of the toy into your glistening hole, he rutted into his hand to mimic the pace.

There was a chase he was craving and this would be able to subside for now. The hard grasping on the restrained hard-on had his bottom lip quivering and still, he kept repeating the motions to follow your own thrust.

He swore with how close he had his ear pushed up to your window that he could hear the noises as if they were being directly spewed into his ear. It was a dizzying feeling how tightly he gripped around him like how you clamping down the toy.

Your erratic movements while you chased the high nearly made him come in his suit. He knew it would be a hassle to clean again, not even after a few days later than the original wash, but it was worth it.

But seeing how you twisted your perked nipples and your moving hand on the toy rubbed your palm down on your clit making you wail muffled in the shirt stuffed into your mouth. The perfect arch of your back that you seemed to have found just the spot.

It didn’t take much for him but it did take everything out of him when he came into the suit and he still chased after his hand. He bit down on his bicep to conceal his whines to not get caught. He felt like a fly or more like a spider on your wall, watching and making a home in your home until you ultimately catch him and squish him to his demise.

This was his testament of his words of letting you ingest him.

✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧

You were too paranoid to be getting spooked so late in the night that you nearly tumbled back in your chair at the sound of a loud thud coming right out from your window. Catching yourself before you could fully fall, you rushed up from your chair having it screech from under you to grab the nearest object instantly.

This was how the people died in horror movies and you wouldn’t go down without a fight.

You hesitantly walked over and yanked the curtains open but you loudly yelped seeing a squished body plaster onto your window like a bug. Dropping the item at hand and hastily opening your window to allow the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man to fall through. You yelped again when he thudded to the bedroom floor on his knees.

“Oh my god- Are you okay?!” Jay’s head was pounding faster than his own heart which was more than ironic, he felt so off that he couldn’t fully understand what was happening

In a weak attempt to push himself off the floor to his aching feet that felt numb at the touch, he managed to wobbly stand. His knees were shaking to support his body but he didn’t feel like he was in any control—as if he ever was to begin with. It felt like if he took a step of even three centimeters, he would topple over.

So he did the only rational thing he could think of in his smeared mind. Silently hissing when he tried to raise his arms out towards you, your eyes widening at the sight of his beat up zombie-like movement until he reached you. The weight of his world landed onto your shoulders in that instance, however, instead of feeling an expected burden, you felt lighter.

“H-Hey?” You softly called out but it was no use when his sudden body weight pulled you into him making you shriek in an attempt to stabilize yourself and his body, “Spider-Man? Are you okay?!” You tapped at his back in a shaky laugh in an attempt to make him wake up

Your eyes darted around your room in worry of what to do because you never anticipated to have Spider-Man passed out in your arms in the middle of your room.

How the hell is one supposed to take care of him?

“I’m going to call an ambulance! Just hang in there please?” You helpless pleaded as if he could hear what you were saying, you tried to walk not even a meter from where you standing to carefully push the dead-weight off of yours and straight to your bed

The recoil of the new weight on your mattress flabs under his body, where you properly saw his state. A teared up suit exposing his honey tan skin, the peek of his muscles flexed even when he wasn’t flexing that made your fingers unknowingly twitch, a clear sight of his broad back and wide shoulders as he laid, and the sight of bruises forming and cuts from the ripped fabric caused your face to scrunch.

He must’ve been in a bad figh- Wait what?

Your face dropped when you saw his mask, the one that conceals his identity, shredded at the bottom. His chapped mouth slightly ajar as he took heavy breaths and a crack right in the middle of his bottom lip separating the dried up flesh into two.

Quickly turning your body around, sucking in a breath with a tight lip. Your heartbeat is nearly ripping out of your chest. Swallowing down your nerves, you peeked over your shoulder to look straight at the exposed lower half of his face. You dim lamp casting shadows on your bed of his figure.

You can’t send him to the hospital. Not in this state. His identity would be at stake, you couldn’t do that to the one that sacrifices his life in saving the city from trouble.

Such a sharp bruised jawline that could cut you in half without any resistance made your inside twinge. Inching closer to him, your hands fisted at your side in worry, “Spider-Man?” You level your head to his and hovered an ear over his mouth

When a faint breath tickled your ear, you jerked back and looked towards the sprawled body on your bed and to your glee, his chest raising up and down in an semi-even manner. A sense of relief washed over, hesitantly your hand raised towards the current exposed neck to examine the forming bruise.

“I am so sorry” Your apology landed deaf in his ear as you pressed two fingers behind his ear

When you felt the jumping pulse you let out an even heavier exhale however glancing over his neck muscles, you took another look to the shaped birthmark at the side. You pulled your hand away to shake off the imaginary burn from it just by touching his skin.

If you couldn’t take him to the hospital, then you needed to treat him yourself. You cursed under your breath and creased your forehead roughly before sighing heavily and straightening out your posture.

Quickly rummaging around your rundown apartment for any spare first-aid to treat the masked hero currently passed out in your room. You came back to see him looking comfortable on your bedding. A face so at ease like he was home that it made your insides twist in itself.

How does he manage to look so at peace if you were willing to call it that when he is beat up and dripping blood on your favorite sheets. Forced to have the world’s sins on his shoulders, you commend him for all that he does especially when having to deal with those who under-appreciate him. If you were asked, you’d choose him over all the snobs that run this city.

Situating yourself more comfortably on your knees and pushing in his sprawled arms to focus on treating the bodily injuries first before even attempting to look back up to the half covered face.

While he had no reaction to you treating his wounds, you reacted for him. It was like you could feel his pain within yourself and it felt weird. It was too raw, too real for your liking.

Trying to focus on anything else in hopes to look past the tingly sensation under your skin when you touched his skin. You couldn’t ignore the admiration you had for the body under the suit but you most definitely couldn’t ignore the settling sense of comfort with him around now.

You twisted your body in order to reach the places that were out of sight. You groaned at the stretch of your aching muscles but quickly stopped. Some pain you must be experiencing huh.

While it didn’t matter what was said about the masked man through the countless media on him—He was a hero in your eyes.

Each injury you treated and spot you cleaned kept getting higher and higher until you reached his neck. You stop when you run a wet cloth over the birthmark, admiring it for a second longer.

You knew Spider-Man to be real, how could you not. But experiencing him like this, seeing the little discoloring on his neck reminded you that he was human. You just wished people saw him that way too besides a crime fighting weapon.

“Oh Spider-Man…” You softly call out until your eyes trailed up to the corners of his mouth, your words died on your tongue with the attentive focus you gave to the bruises and cuts on the patch of skin you could see

The tips of your fingers hovered over his face but you snapped yourself out of it to focus on your care for him. You wince any time you put a little more pressure than intended when wiping the blood that splatters his face.

You whispered countless apologies hoping his subconscious would pick up on them. When you finished the most you could do before the rest of his face was covered by the mask.

Staring at the cover a thought crossed your mind and while it seemed logical, you weren’t sure it was the best approach. What if there were more injuries under his mask? What if he could be bleeding out? They seemed irrational but not too far fetched considering just how beat up he was when he waltzed in.

But against your better judgment, you only wished that none of that was the case and that it was merely exhaustion that kept him asleep.

You retract your hand from the side of his face after adjusting his head perfectly and comfortably on your pillow. You wipe your hands against each other and stare at the male laying in your bed. There was something about him that made you think harder than you should. There was no reasoning behind you to feel like this, especially for him but there was the familiar sensation and musk that made your face scrunch.

You shook your head and placed the empty aid kit to the side and sighed. It was already dead of night and there was nowhere else for you to sleep.

“I’ll be right back Mr. Spider-Man” But catching a glimpse of his twitching finger made you freeze, you whip your attention back to him for any other sign but the soft raise of his chest with each breath he took led to diminished hope

Something in that movement spoke louder than any word or sound that he could utter. Choosing to focus on the greater scheme—not letting anything else happen to him, you situate yourself back on the floor against your nightstand.

Letting out a sigh, you stare off in the distance seeing the clock on your desk ticking

reaching well past the time you usually stay up. “I read somewhere that you can still hear even if you're unconscious”

“I don’t know how true that is” You chuckle and shrug your shoulders, “But it seems to work for everyone in the movies so I’m thinking why not try it?”

“Life is pointless if you don’t take risks, isn’t that right Spider-Man?” Looking up to the resting man not expecting a response but deep down hoping for some sign of agreement whether it comes from him or wherever

The corner of your mouth pulls to the side while releasing yet another heavy sigh. “I should listen to my own words right? Staying in this crappy place and city just to prove a point, it seems stupid but I’m a stubborn person”

“I just want to be seen you know—Well you’re seen everyday” You trailed off before picking up on your rant, “What I mean is that, I want to be taken seriously”

“And if I want that to come true I’m going to do everything I can to make sure it happens. Circumstances are different but isn’t it the same for you?” You turn your attention back to him and see him very well fast asleep

You shake your head unbelieving that the bottle emotions being let out to Spider-Man of all people, a man of so many worries and yet managed to juggle it all. You push yourself off and look down to him. Adjusting the sheets over his chest, you smiled softly, “You already risk your life everyday fighting crime, always taking the risk of your life for the betterment of our city”

“I just can’t help but wonder what drives you to do it? Because you have a heart of gold and purity? Or because you were granted this opportunity and you’re choosing to seize it” You pat his covered bodied one last time before walking out of your room and just right when you were going to turn off the light you look behind one last time

“Whatever the case may be, I know you’re not like anyone else in this city and that’s a breath of fresh air” You smile and switch off the lights, “Goodnight Spider-Man”

✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧

Jay quite literally launches himself from your bed to the floor in an instant. He looks around with worry and heavy pants, even though he feels like he just received the best sleep of his life, he doesn’t remember the last time he slept that good before.

There was a fight, the cops showed up and it was done. He was on his way back home so why wasn’t he home?

His vision is clouded and his body aches terribly and he looks down on his body to see the bandages wrapped around his body but what caught his attention was the rapid footsteps nearing closer and the sudden burst of the bedroom door wide open and there stood you with worry all over.

There’s been many instances where he’s felt his heart drop the pit of his stomach but this has to be at the top of the list. Seeing you standing there, watching how you acknowledge his presence carefully.

“You’re awake” You sounded almost relieved to see him there and he tried to remember what happened that led to this

“I-I” His words jumbled together trying to articulate some type of response that didn’t end with him embarrassing himself in front of you, “I’-I’m uh making a mess right now”

What the fuck was that? Was that seriously the best thing he could come up with but the thought melted away when he realized it was in fact the best thing he could come up with because it finally registers in his mind that he is in your apartment. He was standing in the very bedroom he’s been in multiple times and you aren’t freaking out seeing him there.

Instead you're worried for him.

You let out a chuckle, “Sheets can be cleaned” Your words faded because it was the great horror come to life

Spider-Man lost his memory and now the city has lost the only real protector and it was all your fault-

“Thank you” Jay noticed how your face contorted when he breathlessly praised you

“What?” The way you looked at with him wide eyes, a shocked expression making his heart churn at the sight, you looked unreal and it was something to die for

You looked so helpless, so innocent even though he knew you were far from that. He’s seen it with his own two eyes. Your face when you become undone, the unshameful noises as your body chases through the pleasure to make it become unbearable, and the bashful expression when you slipped and cleaned the toy up—placing it into a box under your bed before hitting the lights out.

“For patching me up. I mean I got my ass handed to me and I guess accidentally met face first with your window when swinging away” He smiles but the cold breeze hitting his face felt more raw than usual and when his hand reaches to touch to bareness of his lower half, he stops for a moment

“I didn’t take off your mask I swear!” You rushed out in one breath, “I was only working with what I could see, I promise I didn’t take off”

Your ramble stops when Jay laughs and you stay rooted in place. You didn’t say anything until he stopped clutching his stomach from laughing so hard. “It’s okay I believe you” He sighs happily when stops the laughter

You knitted your brows in confusion, “You’re just going to take my word for it? What if I have a picture of your face on my phone and send it to some random news outlet to headline?”

“Well do you?” While you couldn’t see it, you certainly could feel the pointed eyebrow raise he had while asking

“Of course not”

“Then problem averted and no need to worry” Jay smiles and you see the curves of his cheekbones and dimples popping out from it

“You have dimples” You mindlessly pointed out but quickly sucked in a breath, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to say that out loud”

“It’s okay and yeah I have them but I can’t say they’re very noticeable” Jay tried to hold back the bigger smile wanting to show when your gaze kept flickering between his cover and exposed half, “But they're there I promise”

He couldn’t wrap his head that he was having a full fledged conversation with you and instead of his body immediately shutting down, he was thriving. The initial pain from the fight last night was non-existence now in your presence.

Jay touched the edges of his ripped mask and sighed heavily realizing that he would have to stitch it back together or completely replace it and make a new one. Either way it was more work for him.

“What happened?” You softly asked and Jay was suddenly reminded he was standing in the middle of your room, he looks back up to your relaxed posture but wary eyes

“Oh nothing I just realized I have to fix my mask now” It was obvious you were contemplating something but he stayed silent to wait for you to speak

“Do you know how to sew or fix it?”

“No” Jay doesn’t know what took over him to lie but seeing how your eyes lit up before clearing your throat and rubbing your nape, he knew it was the right choice, “I don’t know how I’m going to get it fixed in all honesty”

“I-I uh I could fix it…” Your voice trails off and he purposefully pretends he couldn’t hear you just to hear you repeat it again, “I could uhm fix it for you if you want..?”

“It’ll take me a while but I’m sure I can do it” You tried to fake confidence and Jay couldn’t contain himself as he rubs the bottom half of his face to conceal the smile, “That is if you’re okay with it of course!”

There was no way to describe what he was feeling. It was far too much in his heart and soul to explain it but it made him frenzied—almost manic but most importantly it made him feel alive.

“I’d be more than happy to have you help me” Jay smiles warmly and you could tell it was genuine

“Only if you say yes” You murmur and Jay didn’t think his smile could grow any wider than what it is now

✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧

From the morning he woke up in your room to now, he’s surprised you allowed it so easily but he isn’t one to complain about gaining your trust over just like that. He just needs you to be more careful of the cynical people out there that could take advantage of your kindness for their sick desires.

He walked on your ceiling, with your permission of course—he isn’t a monster, he has his manners, as he listened to the advice you’re giving him after he ranted to you for over 30 minutes with no interruptions.

Jay knew the mask gave him more confidence when it came to talking with you. It felt like he was finally listened to apart from being Park Jongseong, renowned rising businessman or the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. You were listening to him as his rawest form, Park Jay—A man of many tales, waiting to tell you every story.

He sighs and jumps from clinging to the ceiling to your floor and sighs heavily as he rests his body flat on his back and looks over to you. While you may have been turned away from him, he swore he could feel seen by you.

At his heavy sigh, you peer over your shoulder into your darkened room only to see the faint silhouette of Spider-Man’s bare face. In the beginning, you hated seeing him wear the shredded mask to conceal his identity while you worked on his new mask. So you offered an alternative choice that he can take off his mask to relieve himself from it but the room remains dark besides your desk lamp as you worked and to prevent you from seeing him.

In all honesty, you preferred it that way. You didn’t care for what was under the mask because you knew inside—his heart was full of sincerity.

“Are you okay?” You asked and you could hear the shuffling from behind you

“Yeah I am. It’s just…” He trails off but you quickly usher him to continue by giving him your undivided attention, you turn your body around and leave his mask laying at your desk

The room was too dark to see the hidden man but not enough to consume his laying figure. You could feel his gaze and you awkwardly shifted under it but not because of why you usually do it.

Ever since the masked hero showed up in your life, the tantalizing anxiety you felt like someone was always watching disappeared instantly. You were replaced with a calm peace, no longer being taken over by the dread of having to look over your shoulder constantly and checking your surroundings to see nothing.

Jay smiles to himself before resting his hands behind his head and stares at your ceiling, “You should put something on your ceiling, it’s too bland”

You scoff hearing his remark and roll your eyes, he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue to stifle a giggle, “What? I’m being serious, walking up there is so boring”

“Oh I’m so sorry! Next time I go shopping, I’ll be sure to buy glow in the dark stars for you” You scoff and that thought juts his heart harshly against his chest

You turn your body around to get back on task but hearing the footsteps, you freeze at the warmth presence behind you. An urge to turn around was strong but you had a stronger will to not dare to turn around.

You didn’t want to expose him when it was clear he didn’t want to be seen. But that thought slowly melted away as you heard his soft chuckle. It was dark, heavy and airy, quickly making the back of your hairs stand without any words uttered.

“I would like that a lot” Your hands balled on your lap when his hot breath fanned your ear, “I have a gift for you” His voice was sticky and warm like honey as he looked ahead to your desk board and chuckles to himself

Your gaze raises only slightly to focus at the board written with your to do list and pictures from days you could never forget. You only put them recently or more specifically the same day Spider-Man saw his way out of your window into the day after unintentionally spending the night for you treating him.

“Why a gift?” Jay smiles and keens his head to see how you only looked ahead, not daring to even take a sneak peek at him, “I mean you didn’t have to get me anything”

He hovers your shoulder, his eyes sparkling at you as he keeps himself from laying on it, “But I wanted to” You could hear the pout in his voice and you let out a relieved sigh when he pulled away

Jay smirks that you hadn’t moved an inch but the sound of his web shooting from wherever makes you whip your head only to be met with flowers hanging in front of you.

You jerk back from the sudden appearance of the bouquet but you gasp softly realizing it’s accumulated with your favorite flowers. You reached to pick them from the anchor he made for you, “How did you… They’re not in season right now”

“When you’re on a mission, anything is possible. And I really wanted to get a pretty bouquet for a beautiful person” Jay kneels to the ground and thumped his back to meet your the back chair making you squeak in shock

His soft words made your heart jump, “These are my favorites actually”

“Oh really? Lucky guess” Jay hums which he knew was far from the truth, he did his research, it wasn’t hard for someone like him and he’d do it all over again to see that twinkle in your eye and sweet smile

You bring the flowers close to your chest and hug them with just enough pressure. It’s been far too long since you received anything like this so the thought and process made you feel giddy.

“You really didn’t have to get anything for me-” You wanted to say a name, any name that wasn’t correlated to the hero but you’re reminded he isn’t your friend. You were a civilian helping him out even though you know things no stranger should know about the hero, “Spider-Man” You finish your sentence like a harsher reminder of the relation

“I know I didn’t have to but I wanted to, that’s the difference ” Jay plays with the fabric of the spandex anxiously that he may have gone too far but when you reach behind and pat his shoulder he freezes

“Thank you” Your soft voice ached his soul even more, his body becoming rigid and any thought or control he had was swiped away the moment you patted his shoulder

“Of course” He automatically responded until you lingered your hand away and he tried to bring himself back from the cloud his head was in

Just the sliver of your touch managed to ruin him and yet, he’d let you do more. Ruin him to your heart's desire and that would be the minimum of the things he allows you to do to him. There was no limit to your wishes for him.

“It’s a little cold here don’t you think?” He clears his throat to try and divert the conversation elsewhere from his shaken self and it seems it was in his favor as you strained a laugh

He looks up and sees you rubbing your nape, “The heater is always broken”

“Doesn’t it get really cold in here?” You wondered how he knew just how cold it could get in here but he read your mind, “My place is the same way when the heat is off”

“Just a little” You hide your face into the flowers because even though he couldn’t see the flush burning your cheeks, you didn’t want any suspicion of it, “I think I just got used to it”

“Do you feel it?”

Jay lays his full body against your chair and knocks his head back with a soft thud, he peers up and sees how you didn’t turn around once, “Nope”, his body burns even in your freezing cold apartment when he looks up and sees the back of your head,“Yeah I don’t feel it at all”

✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧

You were on a casual walk, your bundled self keeping you warm until you made it back home with hopes that the landlord managed to fix your heater again for the 20th time ever since you moved in.

But when you were passing through a small park near your place, you nearly fell when someone bumped into you from behind. You snap your head back to see the same male you saw at the party in front of you. The words your friend said ringing through your mind as you took in his appearance. Dressed in a sleek black suit, a long trench coat covering him and a scarf wrapped over his neck for an extra layer of clothing. A watch still glimmering in the clouded skies that you realize it was a success you would never reach any time soon.

He was on the phone and he looked far from happy but he looked even more mortified when he saw you.

Jay had been so busy all day that he didn't have time to check up on you throughout the day so the moment he escaped the office, he went straight to yours. But the moment of peace was disrupted when his very stressed out secretary talked about him coming to the office to close off a deal and while, all it would take is a simple signature to end it, nothing more than 5 minutes, Jay wasn’t coming back. The time he spared for work ended and you were back to being the one that he spent his time with whether it was at yours or watching you.

His mouth opened and closed, the voice on the other line screaming for his attention and your bundled up self staring right at him. You weren’t supposed to be on your walk today, it was far too cold and you never left yours in this weather unless it was for work.

But you were dressed in casual clothing and no signs of dread from your job was visible. You furrowed your eyes watching strained noises leave his capped lips and noticed a cracking down the middle that your mind went to the masked hero who you knew you’d see tonight.

You expected some type of apology but when he walked right past you, knuckles whitening at the grip on his phone and he continued to speak through the phone made you loudly scoff. You whip around to look at him but you jerked back seeing that he was gone.

“How..? Unfuckingbelievable” You dust yourself off from the touch of him on your clothes, “Bumps into me and can’t give a simple apology? He’s just like everyone else in this damn city”

You roll your eyes to not get worked up over nothing but you felt irked that he lacked any mannerism. Even if he was good looking and had money that could put anyone to shame, it doesn’t excuse him. Loudly huffing, you swing yourself back and with harsh steps continue your path back to yours.

Yet, when you were growing nearer your place, you felt a shiver run up your spine. Not from the cold but rather from an unease feeling rising, you cursed under your breath that it was back again. You haven’t felt this in a while that you almost forgot about it completely.

Anxiously looking around to people walking past you, minding their own business. It didn’t make sense why this feeling was back, “I was doing so good” You murmured under your breath and rushed through the apartment building door for some solitude

You see the landlord with a raised hand to flag you down, “Hey I was just in your apartment and-” You apologize just loud enough as you rush towards the stairs to quickly get to your apartment, forgetting how to control your worry when you’re by yourself after so long of not feeling this

The moment you pushed your apartment door, you ignored the clear icy cold air and locked the door behind you and rushed towards your bedroom. You flickered your lights on to illuminate the dimming room as the sun was setting. Trying to regulate your shaky breathing, you mimicked the breathing exercises you saw online to help with anxiety.

But the faint tap at your window made you jump and clash on your desk. The knock grew harder when you weren’t answering and you could feel your heart pounding out of your chest.

You took a step back against the nearest wall of your room and stared with teary eyes towards your window. Unsure of how you used to do it before without breaking down, you realize you were too accustomed to the hero you’ve been spending time with and the feeling disappearing because of him.

That was when it clicked in your mind when the words, “It’s me!” Muffled through loud enough for you to hear

You hesitantly walked over to your window and pulled the two barriers just enough to see the shredded black mask. Jay was going to yell for you again but when he catches the smallest glimpse of movement, he stops.

“Hey it’s me” He calls out again in a much softer tone and you hastily opened your window, pushing the blinds and curtain out of the way, he sees your tear stained face

He quickly finds himself in and lets the blind thud back into place as he holds your shoulders in worry. Jay, who was watching you practically run through the door and into the building, froze in shock. Nothing happened that would’ve caused you to act like that when you were walking back, he was following you to make sure that you made it back safely.

But seeing you terrified as you look around for whatever reason, he knew that he would not be going back to the office like how he promised his secretary just as he got off the phone. He found some random alley to rip off his clothes and slip on the shredded mask and swing toward your apartment building.

He didn’t care if people were taking pictures at the sight of Spider-Man. He was nervous about why you suddenly acted scared and seeing you so distraught broke his heart.

“Woah, what’s wrong? Is everything okay?” He asked but grunted when you launched yourself into his arms and wrapped your arms over his back

Jay shut down the moment you wrapped over his waist. It wasn’t anything like the pat on his shoulder you usually do and he wasn’t sure if he could handle it. You were so close that he managed to get a whiff of your scent and he buried his head into your body to silently inhale more of your scent. You were shaking and neither of you were sure if it was from the cold or something else but you clawed at his back in need.

When you feel the strong pair of arms wrap around you like a blanket, your tensed shoulders dropped and you sighed in relief, “I’m sorry” You spoke into his chest but the hero shook his head and tightened his grip on you

“Don’t” He whispers into your ear and you swore you hear the smile in it, “It’s okay, I’m here now”

“Can you please stay the night?” You were too frightened to stay alone and it was far reached but selfishly you wanted to keep the hero closer to you tonight

Jay tried to minimize the shake of his hand but it did nothing, he pressed his weight into your body as he stabilized himself on his feet. It was instant how his body shut down the moment you asked that for him.

You figured the silence was your answer but instead he held you tighter which you didn’t think possible. “Fuck” You heard him mutter under his breath, “Of course I can. I can stay as long as you need me to”

You bury your head into his body, allowing the safe haven to consume you whole.

✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧

“Please take the bed” Fighting with the mask hero was a losing battle, he was as equally, if not even more stubborn than you are, “I can just take the couch, it’s okay”

“I rather lay my life down than let you sleep on the couch. You can take your own bed and I’ll take the couch. Hell, I’ll even take the floor if you asked me to stay in the room” You stare at the male in shock, he was so determined to make you stay but you were too

That’s how you find the ultimatum, “The bed is big enough for two people” Of course Jay knew that, having rested in it multiple times whether you were home or not. However, there weren’t enough words in the world that could describe what Jay is experiencing but it could merely be described as utter euphoria

He poked the inside of his cheek to hold his smile, you were too kind for this world that he’d have to do everything in his power to make sure no weirdos get near you. Don’t you know the world is such a scary place for a kind soul like you to be so offering? Maybe you already did because why else would you cuddle into his chest if not to hide yourself away from the world.

Thankfully, it was just him and not some sicko slimy hands that would taint your radiance.

“You look funny in my clothes” You point out the contrasting clothing on the male instead of his usual black spandex suit, his chest vibrates as he laughs and you can’t control the corner of your lips going up

“It was either that or sleeping in my suit. It’s quite comfy I can’t lie but your clothes are better” You laugh at him and the way you shook in his hold with the fill of laughter so close to him bursted his heart out

Adjusting yourself just enough where you could look up but not enough to see his face to see the bottom half of his lips curling and the unclear birthmark on his neck. “Is it a heart or a butterfly?” Jay knew what you were talking and he shrugged his shoulders and peered down to you

“It can be whatever you want it to be” You lightly chuckled at the cheesy line but your heart thumped in your chest

Your hand travels in between your squished bodies until you trace the neckline of your shirt and Jay’s breath shudders, feeling your fingers trailing it on his skin. He fluttered his eyes closed to feel you.

When your finger grazed the bare skin to follow the birthmark, he tightened his hold on you and held his breath. The way you carefully traveled and traced repeatedly the discolored mark. You tilt your head as you observed it, “I think it’s a butterfly”

“Then it’s a butterfly” Jay couldn’t respond anymore, he would be a mess if he did. It was taking everything his power to conceal the person within but he shook with need to. The way you could be together if you only knew

“Your heart is beating really fast you know that” He curses in his head trying to think of some excuse, “It’s comforting”

“Is it?” You could hear the confusion in his voice but you nestled your cheek in the built chest and softly nodded your head

“Because it means that you’re real” You slurred the ending of your sentence as your eyelids grow heavy that you couldn’t keep them up any longer

It was a mistake falling asleep on the male but with all tension disappearing with being in his protective arms, the honey like voice and a comforting familiarity, it eased you to rest.

“What was that?” Jay leaned in to catch what you said but when he caught your weak apology, he sighs and slowly rubs your back to lull you to sleep, he brings your closer to his warming body as he hover his lips over your forehead and presses them softly against your skin, “I’m not going anywhere sweetheart”

✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧

There was something off the moment he arrived. Your smile didn’t reach your eyes like it always did when he knocked on your window to be let in. There wasn’t the familiar chime of tone when greeting him, nor was there any kind of glee to see him basically crawling into your room.

He tried to hackle through your day to see if there was anything he could’ve possibly missed but there was nothing from what he recalled. It was the weekend and it was far too cold for you to leave and he knew you had no plans to begin with. There was no way something happened during the little time he wasn’t watching over you or so he thought.

When he asked what was wrong, it was like you crumbled and he listened to you rant about him for the past hour. How his careless actions as Jongseong led up to this—had he known, he would’ve smacked some sense into his past self and hung up the call to properly apologize to you on his hands and knees for running into you and foolishly not saying sorry. He didn’t know he had this much of an effect on you without even exposing himself.

“I don’t know why I am getting so worked up over this now” It was the interaction in the park a week ago that spiked you into a spiral from the moment you remembered it when you woke up this morning, “It just annoys me Spider-Man” You waved the mask in your hand as he rubbed the back of your nape to soothe you

The silk smooth material running over your warming neck helped only for a moment before you felt fired up again. “Am I insane for thinking like that? You probably think I’m crazy for getting worked up on this”

“No. No. No. I would never nor could I” Jay crouches to your level and rests his exposed forehead onto your head, the physical barrier between the two of you was dismissed when you both woke up that morning of your plea for him to stay, only to find yourself more tangled than not

While you weren’t expecting to see a face next to you when you opened your eyes, you certainly didn’t expect the shredded mask to greet you when you woke up. But seeing his dimpled smile when he noticed you stir awake that it made you smile back with a full heart.

Yet, whenever he was near you without his mask, you would snap your head away and his face scrunches realizing you still wouldn’t face him without it on. He sighs heavily as he listened to you, “It’s actually more frustrating to see our city taxes going to the rich instead of more important things” You lay back in your chair with a huff, “Like that Park Jongseong dude”

He immediately stiffed at the mention of, well him, rolling off your mouth. Hearing his full fleshed out name that’s always used in a professional light didn’t have the same distasteful, instead it felt so much sweeter like honey slipping into the crevices of his mind.

He shook his head to remind himself of your dilemma that he was unintentionally causing you, “But just what about him makes you so angry?” His voice sounded almost hurt and you knitted your brows together as you feel the weight of his head off your arm to feel the burning gaze into your very existence

“It’s the way he holds power and does nothing with it but flaunt his money and drops doses of charity in the name of good” You scoff, remembering seeing his name signed on the constant bonuses you get because of him, “Mr. Park this, Mr. Park that, his mom and dad do this. Like please spare me from the bullshit”

“But what if he’s just, I don’t know, some regular guy? Maybe someone you could even get along with! He might be a really good guy and you just don’t know it yet” Jay is trying his best to keep his voice from cracking but fails miserably and ultimately covers its up by an awkward laugh

“Someone like him doesn’t go someone like me” You slammed the mask on your desk in anger, “He’d keep me on a hook and get rid of me when he’s sucked me dry like some damn vampire”

“So what? You’re purposefully avoiding him because of that? Because you think he’s some scum?”

You don't answer and seeing you shrug your shoulders made him angry, “Better to keep me away from him if he even dares to cross paths with me again”

“No- What are- This is just stupid!” You could tell he instantly regretted his choice of words and volume when he quickly closed his mouth and sighed heavily. “I’m sorry-“

You cut him off before he could say anything else, “I think you should go” You suddenly stand up from your chair making it creek under the abrupt movements, “I’m tired”

“I didn’t mean to say that” You ignored the hero’s existence and he could swear he felt his soul shattering, “I’m sorry! Hold on” He tried to reach out to you but you pulled your arm away before he could

Retracting his hands back as he watched how you kept your gaze trained to the floor to maneuver around him, leaving him to watch you in shock. You were doing the same thing you did when he’s Jongseong but this isn’t right. He was Spider-Man right now, the hero you grew comfortable with. He wasn’t the man you despised but it feels like he’s nothing too now.

“Look at me please” The faint grasp on your wrist made you stop in place and turned you around to the male standing in front of you, his weak plea made you keep your eye level trained on the ground

You weren’t ready to face the hero, especially without his mask.

But Jay needed you to look at him—it was the only thing he ever wanted. He cupped your chin and raised it just enough to have you looking at him but to his disappointment you screwed your eyes close just to shut him out.

It took a stab to his heart but he endured the pain, he had to because it was you who was inflicting it. “Please look at me…” His voice cracked and it caused your own heart to feel the same way

You moved your head down and opened them to look at his neck. The butterfly birthmark showing, “I want you to see me” This plea was the one to break you

You looked up and truly you were expecting anyone else that wasn’t the familiar face in front of you watching you with gleam but horror mixed together. You took a step back that you would’ve stumbled over your feet but Jay’s grip forbade you from moving an inch away from him.

“J-Jongseong? Mr. Park? Jay?” Your voice trailed off with every name associated with the male in front of you, “Spider-Man?”

Left to piece together the faces and memories of the person you’re meant to hate and the hero that you’ve grown so fond of quickly standing in front of you, holding your waist that always made you feel safe.

“What the… Is this some joke?” You snapped and pushed his chest with harsh force, “You’ve been playing with me like some idiot?”

“No!” Jay stumbles over his words but not his feet from your push, he thought you would accept and embrace him when you realize he was Spider-Man so why were you denying him now?

“I wouldn’t even think of evening playing with you. I had no choice but to conceal my identity, you know this! I-I didn’t know how you would react and hearing you talk about me, I just-”

“So you just decided it’s the perfect time to show yourself to me?” You laugh but not in disbelief but in a mocking manner, “Even hearing me what I said about you” You shake your over his figure

He stood so still in your room, his shoulder slacking down, a defeat you have never seen on the hero in the whole time you’ve known him. “I can’t believe I let you into my life”

“What are you saying?” Jay’s voice grew small as he cowers into his own space, he stares at you with glossy eyes and your heart twinged at the sight

“That it was a mistake getting close to you! I confided in you and idiotically trusted you ” The way your eyes dulled when looking at him—the spark no longer there, the eyes that refused to look at him without his mask now stared him down to nothing

“I’m still the same man from before. You didn’t care who I was then, why does it matter now?!” Jay snaps as he attempts to walk over to where you stood but you consciously took a step back, he sucked in a shaky breath, “Please don’t do this. Don’t leave me”

“Get out” You point to your window, “Get the hell out Spid- Jongseong” You correct your words from calling him the masked hero, he wasn’t just Spider-Man to you anymore, he was your worst fear

Someone so great that actually paid attention to you.

Jay stares at you, he’s never experienced a greater pain than this and he’s been in a lot of battles. His chapped lips cracked more down the middle as he frowned. He extends an arm out to you but you turn away and face the wall.

Watching you look away from him was one thing but realizing you purposefully turned away just so you didn’t have to look at him was another.

The moment of silence filled your room and you stared at your wall and the chipping paint didn’t do anything to take your mind off him. Silently sighed, realizing how you were acting—it was foolish. You rubbed your forehead and screwed your eyes shut before opening them and softly calling out to the hero.

However, when you received nothing, you hastily turned around to see your empty room and your window jarred open, the soft gust of the night wind moving your curtains to showcase the city lights illuminating in the distance.

Your lips tugged downwards before walking over and slamming the cracked open window shut, oblivious to the 8 legged insect left caught in the crossfire and killed for being at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Jay doesn’t believe in the superstition of being at the wrong place at the wrong time, trusting that there’s always a purpose in actions or placement for what fate decides.

Just like how fate knew to have you meet and just like how it knew that it was the right choice to show you his face after all this time. It wasn’t a mistake because it knew that you two were soul bound with no way of separation.

Sure it hurt but this was just a bump in the road. It wasn't something that he couldn’t handle. A simple fix is all it takes. He knows what needs to be done but for now he’ll give you space until you are ready for him.

Right now though, he needs to blow off some steam in the only way he knows how.

“P-Please” The broken plea managed to snap him out of his head and his eyes flickered to the plastered male in the alley way

With the villain he just caught in the pouring night rain, he thinks for a split moment that maybe there is truth behind the saying. It’s bad on his part that he doesn’t even remember why he picked on this perp. But like the saying goes ‘Wrong place, Wrong time’

The loud gasp the bad guy let out in a spurt of blood and spit to the ground as he tried to crawl away from the masked menace. The raindrops felt like bullets on the skin but it didn’t phase Jay in the slightest.

He could only feel the pain in his chest remembering the way your face scrunches in anger and disgust at the thought of him, at the sight of his true self in your room.

There was no way you could’ve meant what you said. He is Park Jongseong and that Park Jongseong is Spider-Man. You were just merely blinded by a facade he didn’t create himself but rather by the prejudice that was planted into your mind of his character.

Jay knows he has to work hard to dismantle that mindset but it wouldn’t stop him from being with you. Nothing in this world could ever rip him from you. He lacked any self respect for himself or had the will power in order to stay away from you.

“I’m sorry I won’t do it again” The bruised male pleaded but he watched how the hero lowered his body down to the heels of his feet and tilted his covered face with a poorly put together mask concealing his identity

“Of course you won’t” Jay laughs but instead of a fearful reaction like

he anticipated, he notices the bad guy scoffing whilst looking to the distance

Under the mask his brows furrow in the middle and while the person couldn’t see his face, the perp could feel the bleeding rage of Spider-Man. “You think this is funny?”

“What about this is funny to you?”

“Nothing man” The bad guy grunts when moving his body to face away from him and Jay follows his line of sight and to his horror, he sees the picture of you that is usually tucked away in his bag as motivation and to remind him of why he does what he does in the first place now laying on the wet cold floor as it gets ruined

“The news was right about you. You are just some freak” The perk chuckles as he examines the picture not too far away from him and it was clear that it was taken without your knowledge by the camera the hero planted just perfectly out of your window to not miss a second of your existence

It took Jay a moment to snap his gaze away from the picture—just like how it always did. The way you were smiling in the comforts of your own room as you talked to him before knowing who he truly was.

“Can’t blame you, she looks like an absolute beauty. But she won’t ever love you man if you keep going like this. Honestly, take my advice and-” The sentence wasn’t completed when Jay kicked the male square in the face without any repercussions

The male’s head turned disgustingly to the side and landed on the puddled concrete but that isn’t nearly enough for Jay. His hands shook at his side as he grabbed the perp by the hair and dragged his face from the asphalt up to face him to take another hit on him.

Jay’s knuckles burned but he couldn’t stop, the guy's face was caving and turning purely red just like the hero’s vision. But he couldn’t do anything to defend himself. The hands of the person meant to protect the city are the very ones that can destroy it in a matter of seconds.

“What was that? Couldn’t hear you over you biting the curb” Jay laughs maniacally as he drops the guys to the ground, mixing with the pool of water from the rain was a crimson tide coming from the person

Jay’s jaw was clenched tightly as he placed two fingers behind the ear to feel the beating pulse. When he felt the jump of it he pulled his fingers back and shook his head with disgust by the warm pooling of blood on his fingers from the skin he just touched.

He looks over to the perp to see him out cold. Even while unconscious, he knew the person could hear him loud and clear, “You should take my advice and shut the fuck up next time. I’ll give it to you that I might not be the best guy in the world”

“But I am fucking loved by her asshole”

✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧

She loves me. She loves me not. She loves me. She loves me not. She loves me.

You love Spider-Man. You love Park Jongseong. You love Jay. You love him.

He keeps telling himself that he’s starting to truly believe it.

Because why wouldn’t you love the other versions of him. He is still just Spider-Man, the male you looked for comfort when no one else would. He’s Park Jongseong, the man who higher your pay, giving you bonuses for merely existing. And he’s Jay, the person you’ll love.

He rubbed his cheek on the tile floor of his penthouse. He doesn’t remember when he laid himself here or when he even grabbed the tablet that connected to the camera pointed into your bedroom window. He didn’t even bother to change out of his suit—the blood and dirt damp clothing clinging to his skin that it felt like another layer.

He watched how your curtains and blinds never opened ever since that night. Countless days and nights passed and not even being able to check up on you properly felt like his biggest defeat—he was failing the purpose of his life.

The time he spent rotting was time watching your closed off life through a screen and dawning on the reality where you despise him but enjoyed the presence of Spider-Man. Or well used to enjoy.

Meant to be a man who valued how his time was spent and right now contradicts everything he has made for himself. His phone buzzes constantly with every rise and drop of the sun and moon and the day passes by but he still doesn’t move from the floor.

It pains him to even think about moving knowing you hate him. It's frustrating that as a masked hero, he’s still a coward who can’t own up to who he is and properly express himself to you.

The mask is doing nothing but being a distraction from reality.

So instead he distracts himself with all kinds of thoughts, one that terrified him when he was younger and naive—ones of the future, of his life and the thirst that could never be quenched until he met you.

Dull practically lifeless eyes watch the screen that Jay could feel the migraine growing but it subsided to nothing because the ache in his chest was greater than anything.

He doesn’t know what day it or how much time has passed but despite all the drained energy, it disappeared as Jay shot himself up from the floor and immediately out the nearest window of his place to swing straight to yours.

The tablet forgotten behind shows your blinds and curtains shifting before fully opening as you tapped something to your window before closing them again.

And that was more than enough for him to take action.

Jay was cursing under his breath with each swing he took, the cold air hitting his exposed face as he maneuvered any obstacles in his way. When he landed on the side of your bedroom window, he saw the bag tapped outside your window with a note that simply read ‘your mask’.

He’s distraught if he could even call it that, the pounding of his heart and mind racing in a loop was too much for his own well being that he couldn’t think it was remotely healthy.

Ripping the bag from the tape holding it on your window and rummaging through it to pull out the fixed mask like it wasn’t even ruined to begin with.

He runs fingers over the material in awe, even though he was in your room every night while you did it, never once did he truly focus on your hard work.

You even had the dedication to finish it after all this time that he immediately put the mask over his head. He sighed heavily, you touched the mask and it ached his skin. For the first time in a while, he felt your touch back on him again.

He looks at the shut out window, he realizes this can't be it, he won’t allow it to end. With that driving mentality his body moved on its own and the softest knock on your bedroom window stirred you.

Even though you were already in bed, you knew it was pointless knowing you couldn’t rest without the care of Spider-Man. His comforting presence wasn’t there to relax you as all that was left was to wonder if he was ever going to show up.

Although you wanted to forget him—to remind yourself you didn’t need him, the faint knock was more than enough to have you sprinting to your window and peeking through the blinds.

You stumbled over your feet and in your subconscious it was insane that you were running despite knowing who he is but something darker clouded over you.

When you are met with the clear city lights view, the bag holding his mask and your note gone makes you pull back your blinds in haste. You fumble opening your window before pushing it open in search of any sights that Spider-Man was here.

Met with a familiar disappointment, there was nothing beside the cold night breeze that greeted you and you realized you expected too much from him. You sighed, resting your elbows on the crevice of your window to stare at the city. “Screw you Spider-Man? Jay? Jongseong? Mr. Park?” Your jumbled words suddenly die on your tongue when you take a step back to the creature coming down from who knows where

“That’s not very nice to say” Jay lowers himself upside down just enough to be in sight of you, he sees the quick flashes of relief to annoyance when you see him

But there was no denying the sparkle in your eyes when you see him wearing the mask you fixed for him. You swish your mouth side to side to conceal the smile with attempts to stand your ground.

But the moment one hand loosens around the web and tugs the mask just above his nose, a tingling sensation feels your stomach seeing the soft smile etch his face.

You stiffen up seeing a dimple pop up remembering who is under the mask had your insides twisted to the point of uncomfortability. Even when the smile is meant to be repulsive, it instead makes you realize the truth about a smile being able to switch one’s mood instantaneously.

“What?” Your voice was snappier than usual, you tried to remind yourself that Spider-Man is the man you swore to never get close to but you must know that he‘d go down on his knees and beg for your forgiveness if he needs to.

“Thank you” He says no louder than a whisper but you heard him clear as day, it was confusing witnessing his mouth actually move to the words

While you focused on deciding what to do with Spider-Man hanging upside down outside your window, there was a gnawing feeling you couldn’t get rid of. It was the sense of familiarity—an itch you couldn’t get rid of but him with the city lights behind made it difficult to focus on anything else that wasn’t him.

You gulped harshly and waved him off, not trusting yourself to say something coherent that didn’t embarrass you. Somehow it didn’t matter cause you still embarrassed yourself, “Oh yeah whatever it was no problem” You shrug your shoulders but instantly cringe at yourself

“That wasn’t what I- Uhm forget that” Your voice grew smaller and Jay’s laughter grew louder

“Whatever you say” He murmurs back as he rocks on his web in contemplation before speaking up again, “I don’t only want to thank you for fixing my mask, I also want to apologize for everything”

“I didn’t mean to say what I said or act the way I did or even put you in that position. It was never my intention to make you uncomfortable or even the slightest unhappy”

“I’m sorry that it was me behind the mask" Hearing all of this made you realize how idiotic you were because while it would be hard to fully dissociate the connection of the two people. Jay didn’t have to apologize for being who he is. It wasn’t his fault you shut down the moment your life started to change and it was too much for you to handle

Your silence was the answer he expected but wasn’t willing to accept. Now that he had gotten a chance of entering your world, he would spiral knowing he lost you.

“No please don’t apologize” The words squeaked out, “I shouldn’t have kicked you out or hold your own existence against you when you can’t do anything about it”

You realize he isn’t what the news made him out to be both as Spider-Man and Park Jongseong. A masked vigilante who’s heartless or a spoiled trust fund kid? That wasn’t the man you grew to know.

“You can take out anything on me, I don’t care” Jay said in a single breath without hesitation

“The responsibility isn’t meant for you to take. You already have enough on your plate, why pick up on a civilian’s problems as your own?”

“You’re not just some civilian. It’s you and that’s more than enough for me to drop everything”

You don’t move from where you are even when you clearly notice the distance in between fading with each millisecond. “Is it so bad that I want it to be my responsibility?” Jay whispers when he’s hanging right in front of you

His warm breath grazes your own and goosebumps coat your skin. You didn't answer him but the silence was enough for him, “Can I thank you properly?”

While you couldn’t see his eyes, you could feel his gaze boring into you and it felt like he could see every little thought that passed through your mind.

It is unraveling, how you feel stripped bare to nothing whenever you’re with him. But it was thrilling, sickeningly how you wished your plea was loud enough for him to hear. To your luck, it was more than enough when he crashed his cracked lips onto yours

Your hands hold his face as you press your lips harder against his. You hadn’t remembered the last time you kissed someone let alone someone with this much passion and need.

The way your lips move together, it almost felt like they were meant to be for the other and in Jay’s mind that isn’t far from the truth at all. For all he knows, he was created and placed on this planet for you alone.

There was equal if not a slighter greater push into kissing you on his side. Holding onto the web holding his body with one hand because he can’t even begin to think about kissing you without holding you.

He grabs your nape and keeps you in place, unwilling of letting you go now that he has you. Jay roughly pressed his mouth against yours, nicking at the plushness of them making you squeal but you couldn’t pull away even if you wanted to.

Your fingers dig into the side of his face and he doesn’t even flinch and simply allows your hands to roam wherever they wish as long as you keep kissing him.

Jay’s tongue poked your mouth and his finger tapped on the tip of your spinal cord to garner your attention of allowing him in and without a second thought, you let him through.

It felt like fireworks as corny as it may sound but it meant something to you and it definitely meant something to Jay. Never would he think he’d ever been in this position but deep down he always knew it would always end like this—he wouldn’t go on life without you.

While you grew lightheaded, you softly tapped on his body to signal for a breather but Jay was too caught up in the clouds to notice or honestly to care. His hand awkwardly cupped your cheek harder and lulled your head back just enough for him.

He crawls into your space like he lived there, not one cracking the kiss even for a second. You couldn’t even wonder how he managed to do so but he was Spider-Man and that thought fell flat because what can’t Spider-Man do?

Jay sighs in relief that he’s finally standing instead of hanging upside down and in that moment you find the window of opportunity to pull away. You didn’t manage to get far when a web sticks to your shirt and brings you back into his embrace.

He reattached his mouth onto yours, twisting your body to mold with his. Your arms squished between your bodies grabbing onto anything you can get your hands on.

Your words slurred with the kisses that he couldn’t make out what you were saying even with heightened senses and whatnot, but with the tingling sensation at the bottom of his mask, he knew.

When the hero suddenly pulls away from the kiss, you stand frozen in place before quickly adjusting yourself when you see him staring right at you. You awkwardly cough to clear your throat and see the hesitant smile on his face.

“I’m sorry I didn't mean to touch your mask” You rush out but instead of comforting you, he guided your fingers to hook under his mask

Words got caught in your throat yet when he guided your hands to pull higher, you could feel each heartbeat in your chest. While you denied now any care of who was the male behind the mask, deep down you knew you cared far more than you were aware.

“Are you sure?” Jay stops when you ask him the question

The mask only concealed his eyes before he was fully exposed to you. You shouldn’t be the one asking the question because it was his worry of whether you were sure to face who he really was.

“Are you?” While you couldn’t see them, his eyes were pleading and drooping, “Would you accept me? All of me?”

Instead of choosing words, you softly peel the mask off his face and your breath gets caught in your throat when you see Jay’s face attached to the dirty Spider-Man suit. His hair was disheveled, his eyes were hollow but somehow full of life as he looked at you.

You reach up and straighten out his hair, your eyes examine the clean slate face. The messy suit contrasted it but you didn’t question it, it was a reminder of who Jay was. You dragged your hand down his face to the spider embalmed on his chest. It felt right under your touch.

Jay closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh when you ran your hand softly over the spider. His head knocked back as his Adam's apple bobbed, letting himself get lost in your touch. The tensed muscles weakened and became nothing as he succumbed to you.

Jay messed up your mind but it wouldn’t nearly be like the way you’ve ruined his.

“Do you?” Jay softly ask again and when his head is lifted, you kiss him softly with your shaky hands holding his face

Jay’s eyes widened but they slowly fluttered closed as his grip on your body tightened and flushed you closer than ever before.

He pushed your arms up and over his shoulder as his arms cage you in. He roughly bent your back as he chased after your lips that were already attached to him. You don’t realize it at first but when you are placed in the middle of your bed as Jay follows you, all thoughts disappear.

It was crazy how he didn’t stop for air once, he just continued to keep smothering you in kisses like it was the oxygen he needed. You felt Jay’s hand shake when it creased your side, you tried to pull away from him but he only chased after you.

“Why are you shaking?” You murmured hopeful he managed to hear you which he did

He pulls on your bottom lip and releases you with a wet kiss as he rest his forehead on yours, his heavy breath fanning over your face and his warm eyes creased up as he smiled,“Because you’re real”

You freeze when you hear him say, “What?” It was faint and it screamed Jay’s mind, the sheer helplessness underneath him made him crack

“And that fucking hurts, it-it” Jay stutters over his words, “It burns me”

Your hand on his shoulder loosened, sucking in a shaky breath as you stared up to him, “You burn for me?”

“I melt for you darling”

You grab the male’s nape again and drag him to crash down on you. Your hand running into the tangled hair and tugging on it. Jay yelped at the abruptness but fell right into rhythm, the glove covered hands ran over your body, the articles of clothing preventing him from reaching you.

The beats of your heart remind you that you’re alive. That you are experiencing this in real time and it’s none other with Jay. How your life had come to this, you weren’t sure but you were sure that you needed him.

Your mouths worked in a harmony that you never had with anyone before. Jay was creasing you like you were made of glass, a glass doll that he was too scared to touch but wouldn’t be afraid to ruin.

Jay’s kiss grew harder as if to prove something to you, with his body between your legs, the once careful hands not gripping anything in touch. When they rose higher up your body, you shuddered in the mouth that kissed your swollen lips. The harsh grip on your tit made you gasp and Jay stuck his tongue down your mouth with the intent of eating you up. “Tell me all your deepest desire”

Jay moved from your lips to the side of your cheek and down your jaw, you gripped on his shoulder as he pushed your head to the side allowing to reveal more skin to him. His hand held the part just below your chin, his fingers digging into the skin as he sucked on the unblemished skin.

Fighting back the moans considering how thin you knew the walls were but that didn’t fly by Jay. “Let me hear you baby” Jay murmured in your skin, a wet sensation dragging around your neck making your shudder, “I hate that you’re staying silent right now”

Nibbling harder on your lip, the cracking worsening but you gasped when the grip on your face tightened and you were met with Jay’s stoic face. A dark cloud faded in his eyes that made your insides crawl under your skin.

“C’mon don’t be quiet” Jay unintentionally pouted, “I know you sound so pretty… Don’t keep this from me” The pad of his thumb ran over your cheek, his eyes desperately pleading for you

Your eyes jump from his eyes, feeling how his thumb dragged over your cheek to outline your lips before slipping the foreign flesh in. You gasped around his thumb but Jay hushed you and kept you there. “Shhh sweetheart, it’s okay. Just let me take care of you” He whispers into the shell of your ear making you shiver, “Just give into me”

“Jay” You wailed with your mouth stuffed and it sparked something in him, the way you desperately called his name, not any of the other useless ones but his name, his actual fucking raw name

He must be dreaming, he feels so dizzy but when you claw his wrist, he’s reminded you’re real. He lets out a silent hiss and pulls his hand away, you cough loudly at the freedom of his thumb lodged in your throat.

“I’m sorry baby. Fuck I’m sorry” He jumbled out but it dies on his tongue when the little drops of tears bundled in the corner of your eye and his heart stops

Suddenly he felt it soar in his chest, running in circles and laps around in excitement. “Don’t cry honey” You didn’t even realized you were, you attempt to touch your face but Jay beats you to it, “Uh-Uh let me do it”

He holds your face tenderly and when you thought he’d wipe the tears away he instead licked them. His tongue dragged over your cornering eyes and he hummed in satisfaction of the salty water on his tastebuds.

“Has anyone ever tell you you’re such a pretty crier?” He mumbled before placing a kiss just below your eye

He looks at you for a response but when he doesn’t get it besides a whimper, he sighs and shakes your head for you. Even if someone told you that, he didn’t want to know. He’d like to keep it as him being the first and last person to tell you.

“My prettiest crier” Jay hums planting kisses wherever his mouth landed on your face

Your eyes fluttered closed and relished in thought. How the attention to detail was so hyper focused on things you never looked into. You wondered how he managed to keep up with so many useless things about you.

But you didn’t realize everything down to your clean atoms that aren’t tainted like his were burned into his brain. Waiting for the day to exhaust in your glory like it was meant to be for its only life purpose.

Jay’s traveled down your body, taking in every twitch you gave seeing if you would pull away just before he could lose but you never did. Instead you lured him in, your body reaching more for his touch. He could hear your sniffles and soft hiccups when he played with the waistband of your pants.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asked with his hand sliding past your pants without warning, “Talk to me”

You hands dug into his shoulder blades making him grunt and you knocked your head back when he grazed your clothed pussy, “Need you”

“What was that?” He heard you loud and clear the first time, hyper senses were one of the perks of being Spider-Man afterall

“I need you Jay” When you say his name this time around changed him and there weren’t many things in the world that could do that to him, but to no surprise you managed to do that without thinking

The hand in your pants cupped your core making you squeal, feeling the gloved fingers peeking into your folds past your panties. “And who I am deny you of me”

Your heart raced but it dropped when he pulled his hand out from where it was once laid and you opened your eyes to stare in confusion. The hero towers over you and the racing heartbeat settles into a slow pace in anticipation of what he would do next.

“But first things first, wipe the frown off your face, I don’t think you’d like getting your clothes dirty now would you” Jay chuckles

You realized he was right. You were dressed from head to toe in the clothes you had since earlier that night. While you didn’t mind the mess, you’d listen if it meant getting over this quicker and him getting into you faster.

You fiddled with the collar of your shirt first while keeping your eyes remained on Jay before slowly tugging it up past your face, what surprised you was him helping you in the process. In a swift motion, your shirt was peeled off and you quickly tried to cover your bare chest, forgetting how you didn’t put a bra on.

Yet, your arms stopped mid air with Jay holding them open, you expected his gaze to be brought to your chest but realizing they were trained on your face, your heart summersaulted. “You don’t have to hide—especially from me. You’re perfect, absolutely stunning and beautiful”

The praises filled your head, you didn’t resist when he put your hands back down. He cupped your jaw and lifted your head up before placing a peck on your lips. “You’re fucking gorgeous and I can’t believe you’re mine”

You couldn’t deny nor confirm the possessive statement because Jay quite literally doesn’t give you a chance to do so. He kept placing peck after peck until you forgot what you were going to say. Resting his hand on your shoulder, he runs it up and down your arm before laying you back down on the bed.

Your chest heaves as you stare up at the supposed hero. Jay’s eyes glimmer as he looks at you, he nearly feels his chest caving into itself the more he admires you. You were sprawled on your bed, arms uncomfortably at your side while you watched his every move.

Jay tends to grow attached to one singular thing and go head first into it and won’t focus on anything else until he completes the ongoing task. But with you in front of you, it feels impossible to not focus on more than one thing. There was so much about you and not enough for him to appreciate yet but he would kill if he had to share this with anyone else.

Bringing his hands back to your waistband, he sinks to his knees off your bed and onto the ground. “Jay?” You tried to perch yourself up on your elbows but you’re pushed back down with a jump

You look at your shoulder to see the web holding you down. You quickly look back at Jay and see how he’s observing your remaining piece of clothing before he begins removing them off your body. When you tried to help, it only frustrated him more, “Just stay still and let me do the work”

“You don’t have to do a single as long as I’m here and I mean it” The words caught in your throat and you weakly nod—accepting what he said

He smiles when you don’t try to fight back. It makes him proud that you aren’t trying to put up the facade anymore, that it took mere minutes to crumble down the walls you surrounded yourself in. And he did that by merely showing himself you, how many guys succeed in doing that? Oh right, zero.

Discarding your pants somewhere in your that you’re left only in your panties, you squirm at the cold air seeping through the opened window. The goosebumps flaring over your body but Jay snickers and rubs his hands over your body to warm you up, “Don’t worry, you’ll be burning up before you know it”

Jay took a moment to see the design on your underwear, they were a simplistic black color just like his suit. He doesn’t know why they stroke the strings in his heart but it did. The lengths of fingers traced with the outline, so caught up in a daze that you were wearing his color. The black being a representation of Spider-Man that protects the night when no one is looking and in the light where shadows everyone who glosses over him.

But he knew you would never. It wasn’t in your nature, it was one of my many reasons why he fell in love with you in the first place.

“I like the color” He comments and you take a peek at what he was talking about and your cheeks flush in warmth as you see him toying with your undergarment

“Please don’t talk about my underwear like that” You turned your head to hide from embarrassment but he chuckles and turns your head back to him

“It’s cute. We’re already matching baby” You weakly smile to cover your shame of purposely picking out this color for an extra boost of luck of having him show up at your window again after all this time of being apart

“It breaks my heart to take them off but I can see you already leaking through them and I can only imagine how uncomfortable it is” Jay points out the wet splotch dead center of your underwear and you flare up in embarrassment

He focuses on hooking his finger over and under the material, “Can I?” He politely asked which was pointless when he was already peeling them down your legs past your knees until they were resting at your ankles

“Didn’t even get me a chance to respond” Jay giggles at the realization

“I’m sorry” He rubs up and down your shin before trailing his eyes down from your face to your body, “So sorry…”

He was enthralled, so deep in a trance that he couldn’t believe that the world let him exist in the same time and place as you. The moonlight shining through the open window and he focused on the lighting it casted on you.

You glowed under the moonlight. Specks and sparkles shimmered and it reflected his eyes and you saw how it looked like little stars in his eyes—just like reflecting his name, Jongseong.

“Jongseong” You used the other name and Jay seems to snap out when he heard it, he blinks confused and his eyebrows knit in the middle

“Why’d you- Yes my love?” The endearing name melted your heart but you tilt your head to your side and smiled even brighter

Jay’s heart flipped. “Nothing…” You shook your head, keeping the thought close to your heart and unknown

He didn’t question it. A soft graceful smile spread across his face and he placed himself back in the same position he was just a few moments ago. The floor dug into his knees but he couldn’t dare to care.

His hands gripped your knee, tracing over the bone with his fingers before prying them open. You gave no resistance, it was easy—so willing and offering.

Each centimeter that was exposed to him, the more his heart raced. Your pussy glimmering in the natural light provided that he felt his heart and world stop. It was better than he imagined, better than what he’s seen through your window.

It was better than anything in this world.

You were nervous when Jay said nothing. You peered down to see how he kept his eyes focused on your exposed cunt. You shifted in your bed but Jay pressed down your knees further to keep you spread open for him.

“Jay-” You say but he cuts you off with a shaky breath

“I thought there was nothing perfect in this world” Jay leans his head closer like a magnet that was calling to him, he hooks his arms under your knees and keeps you in place

He first presses kisses on your inner thigh, “But then I see you and realize the universe did create something-someone so perfect”

Your heart hammers in your chest, a clear reflection of his words for you. His kisses were rising higher and your need was growing greater. The slick accumulated at your core was growing embarrassingly but the moment a wet stride passed your folds, you were a goner.

Your head throws back, you fist the sheets and a moan ripped out of your throat like never before. Now having a taste of you, it was like a sweet paradise or more like a sweet venom sent to destroy him from the inside out. Something that he could never live without now that he’s tasted it.

You squeal his name loudly as his jaw unlatches when he slurps up the wetness that spilled out of you. The phrase pussydrunk always felt stupid to him. He’s heard about it but never believed in it until now. You were the only one that could provide this feeling so he felt sorry for everyone else that would never get to experience the greatness that is you.

“So sweet- Fuck. The tastiest to ever exist. You’re so perfect” Jay slurred in your cunt, he roughly moved his head, dragging his tongue wherever it could to gather as much of your arousal as possible

“Ja-Jongseong!” You were moaning his name like it were he were the only thing you’ve ever known and when you latched your hand into the fluff of his hair, you held him like he was the only thing in his world

And while he loved it, the vice you had on him, he rather hear you screaming for him. Jay didn’t even move an inch from your pussy when strings of web spurted out and trapped your hand to your mattress. You flabbergastedly looked at Jay but you couldn’t say anything as he continued to eat you out.

Messily running his tongue over and over your folds, mixing his saliva and your slick together. “Jay please! Please” You chant now realizing your restraint when you couldn’t touch him

He poked inside your hole when he could, parting the tight walls in a teasing manner that made you crumble even more. Flickering his tongue up at a rapid pace over your clit before sucking at your pussy as he buried his head deeper while his nose hit the bundle of nerves in the process. This alone nearly had you coming like you were a virgin.

The perfect high nose bridge you noticed on Jay when you first saw him at the club portraying himself as Mr. Park now worked wonders that rocked your world. It hit perfectly each time he moved and your body withered under his touch. Left to only focus on how his face was practically buried in you thanks to your legs hooking around him.

If you can't run away from it, you accept it full force. Not being able to touch Jay was a torture in itself but running yourself over his face while he ate you out like no tomorrow was a paradise.

Jay’s jaw was aching from how much he kept unhinging it only to close it right up as he swallowed your essence. He hadn’t noticed when you wrapped yourself around him but when you pressed down on his middle back, rutting yourself in his face as you chased the high, he stayed still for a moment. He peeks through his eyelashes and sees your scrunched up face.

Your mouth wide open as you don’t hold back your moans. You let them be free while he took care of you, and he wasn’t going to let this go to waste. He didn’t want your first orgasm from him to be like this.

It saddens Jay that he has to cut it short but with one last stride, his hands pulling your hips farther as he spreads open pussy as far as he can as he drags his tongue from every single crevice making sure he didn’t a miss single spot and gave a suck to your clit and lightly nibbling on it before letting it go.

You huffed when he suddenly stopped and released a cry on why he even stopped in the first place. You weakly peek open your eyes to see Jay pressing soft kisses over your core making your hips jerk before he pulls his face away. A string of saliva connecting his nose and mouth to you, pupils blown wide out as he focuses on your wet self.

“Jay why’d you stop?” You wailed impatiently, wiggling your lower half for any friction but Jay squeezed your thighs that made you quickly stop

“Can’t have you coming that isn’t on my cock” Jay saw how you whiskfully rolled your eyes but instead of getting annoyed, he smiled, completely enamored with you

“Don’t give me that doll. I promise it’s for the best” The wet kiss he continues to give didn’t help ease your needy self, it only added fuel to the fire when he was peering your legs off him

You tried to keep him there, hence the word try because it wasn’t much of a fight when he webbed your legs to your bed too. You shook your body trying to break free from the restraints but you realized it was pointless. “You can’t get out of them so easily. If you could, I’d be out of business and criminals would be running the street”

Jay crawls his way up to you, his body hovering over yours as he smiles loopily. The corners of his mouth tugged to the side and the adorable dimple showcased itself again, you were too in awe of it now and it fluttered your heart. “We can’t have that, especially when you’re living here. I have to make sure the streets are safe, that every corner of this forsaken city is perfect for you to walk through”

“Why do all this for me?” You swallowed and Jay’s smile only grew wider until he was hovering just above you, he leans down further until his breath was fanning yours

“Because you’re my girl now” He mouthed, nothing higher than a whisper and before you could respond, he captured your lips with his

You instantly closed your eyes and accepted it. You tilted your head to make sure the kiss could deepen even more. You cringed at the taste of you on him but when he stuck his tongue in your mouth, his free hands cupping your jaw as he messily kissed you, it was nothing compared to this.

It was taunting that you couldn’t touch him the way he was touching you but you froze in the dizzying kiss when you felt something plastic graze your stomach. You turn your head to the side to see what it was and to your horror, you catch Jay holding the silicone toy you bought against your abdomen.

Your mouth opened and closed to say anything but when you hear Jay giggling on top of you, you look back up to see his top teeth holding his bottom lip to suppress the smile. “Such a small thing you have here” He measures the dildo over your stomach, “Doesn’t even reach your stomach, just how pathetic” He brings the toy back to sight and you stumbled over your words

“I-I” It was swirling in your head of how to defend yourself from the silicone to him and not even question how Jay knew about this and where it was in the first place

You pant when the toy is dragged across your skin before resting just above your hip bone. Jay taps your body in a teasing manner the lower he gets and you take the time to feel how it inches closer to your spasming hole.

“Jay wait” You wiggle your body but just to your luck, you couldn’t move due to the webs restraining you down

“It’s okay, I don’t even think you need any prep. You’re practically dripping again” Jay runs the tip of toy over your fold and you shiver at the sensation, even when fake, it managed to get the job done when others couldn’t

“Does this excite you? Make you fucking feel crazy?” Jay chuckles as he leans over to whisper in your ear, a cold shiver runs up your spine

You couldn’t respond when the intrusion sent you over the edge, “What was the doll? I couldn’t hear you” He didn’t give a chance to redeem yourself

He pushed the toy past your gummy walls and you fell apart, it was the stretch you were already used to but still managed to work its wonders on you. The wet squelch of your past and new arousal with his saliva helped the silicone slide easily into you just like how he said—you didn’t need prep.

“Look at you taking it so well” Jay admires how it slips into you, even if it was small, he saw how your hole accommodated to the pull of your walls apart, “You’re doing so good for me”

He rubs his thumb at your hips when the toy comes to a hilt rather quickly. The toy lodged into your fluttering pussy was a sight to see, while he hoped for it to be around him, he knew better than to rush a masterpiece.

Your breathless curses bounced off the walls, “D-Damn it” Jay smirked at this

When you thought the toy would move to be used how it was meant to, it didn’t move even an inch from where it was left making you whine in frustration, “What are you-”

There weren’t many things or anything that took your breath away. However, seeing Spider-Man slither out of his suit, you were starstruck. In a glimmering light, something around his neck shined and you made out the chain necklace and hanging in the middle was a ring that you didn’t fully make out. He wore the necklace with pride, his chest pumped out that you were distracted from the piece of jewelry so the muscles were not too overtoned but just right that you could tell he worked out. Each curve and dip outlined them perfectly from his broad shoulders, to his sculptured chest and linen abs.

He was hand sculpted and created by the hands of the universe itself. Jay was perfect. Especially all the way down to the raging hard on swaying around as he kicked his suit somewhere to be forgotten about.

Your face dropped and eyes widened at the sight. The leaking tip that spilled onto your floor, the faint twitches while being untouched, and just how clearly hung he was that it shamed any of your toys immediately.

“That’s why we couldn’t get straight into it. I don’t want to hurt you” Jay smiles but fingers were crossed behind his back—out of sight from you, “Want to make sure you can take it but I already know you can so I’m not worried”

“Are you sure about that?” You nervously gulped only to let out an awkward chuckle and Jay never thought you looked cuter, the fearful unease in your eyes, a flattering smile but a cloud of desire over you

“I don’t even think I can-” You try to speak but Jay cuts you off

“You can and you will. We’ll make it fit and plus this means I can test how much you can take” The grin on his face made you shudder and yet it excited you more than it scared you

“There’s always room for growth…” You murmur as your eyes trained down his body to the entire of his cock and ran your tongue over your lips

“That’s my girl” He cheers on, “Just relax and feel” He leans over your body and the first skin to skin contact was nearly too much for the both you and Jay

Your cold skins suddenly warmed to each other that it felt like fire that scraped your skin. You were weakly calling his name and it was a daze that he was forever trapped in and would never want to escape from.

“You’re going to be so good for me”

He shivered and you shuddered but unable to touch him, you frustratedly let out a sigh. Jay looks at you in confusion and pulls away in a haste only to see angry tears forming in your eyes, “Woah sweetheart” Jay creases your cheek in a softening voice

You look at him through wet eyelashes and he can’t help but chuckle at the frowning pout that melts his heart. He couldn’t bring himself to stop your sniffles, it was one thing to be a pretty crier, it was another when you looked unreal when tears stained the corner of your eyes, mixed with a desire only he could decipher because it was for him alone.

Jay coos at you, his thumb creasing your cheek but he doesn’t tell you to stop crying. Seeing how your frustrated tears trickled down the back of your face, it made his cock twitch against your bed. It excites him beyond words, it felt too much but it felt so good that he couldn’t stop you.

“Ah. Ah” He tooted his tongue when you tried to hide your teary face from him, “Look at me”

You wouldn’t face him as you felt foolish for even crying in the first place but you are overly sensitive and weak in the moment that the littlest edging would send you off a cliff. And now Jay was using it to his advantage once he realized.

He hooked a finger under your chin and made you look at him. The sullen eyes rimmed with a gloss that made his heart jump. He smiles at the sight, his body temperature rising as he watches the endless tears be unable to stop.

“Stop teasing” You whined whilst moving your body making the silicone toy lodged in you to move making a weak moan rip of out you, “Get on with it please”

“So impatient doll” Jay fakes a disappointed sigh, “Just what am I going to do with you?” The grip on your chin was tight as he squeezes tighter

Your mouth was forced open and Jay leans down and places a kiss at the corner of your lips. What caught you off guard was when a wet feeling crossed your bottom lip and traced into your mouth. Jay sighed in satisfaction that he was back to kissing you again.

Only being able to move your head was torture but as you rubbed your faces together, messily kissing one another with clanking teeths and exchanged of salvia, the cold meteal dangling from his neck onto your chest was more of than enough to slither your need down by a little.

Jay being the only to touch cupped your face as he laughed when you moaned into his mouth. “Jay” You call his name much louder when he finally drags the toy only leaving the tip in before sliding it back in, “F-Fuck”

It was a stretch you knew of recently by the embarrassing number of times you’ve used this exact toy. But it felt different knowing it was in the hands that weren’t yours.

It was frightful that it wouldn’t be the same, that the same spot wouldn’t be reached but you were mistaken. Each plunge into your cunt made you glad it wasn’t the same.

The drag of the dildo past your gummy walls made the plopping sounds worse when he would hilt the base of the fake dick in you. The moans against his mouth worsened as he attempted to swallow every single one.

Jay rested his forehead on yours when he pulled away and kept his mouth hovering yours. He stared at your closed eyes in a need to watch how your face twitched whenever he moved the toy, finally being able to get a close up on what sent you over the edge and which had you screaming for more.

He loved how you weren’t holding back anymore, that you would let everyone in the damn city know who was doing this to you.

“Yeah right there baby?” It was muffled against your moaning lips but that was all he needed as an answer, he inched the toy deeper until it was fully immersed in your walls, “That got you seeing stars?”

The comments made it only more pleasure, your back was arching off the bedding with strings of ‘yes’ and ‘deeper! faster! more!’ falling through in your moans that he managed to string along.

While he hated that it was by a plastic item that could only provide temporary pleasure, it was a blessing to hear you. So loud, so vulnerable and vulgar and overall so prettily that it raced Jay’s mind that it wasn’t delusion.

You were underneath him, your arms and legs bound to your bed by his webs as you gave the ultimately offering of yourself to him. Allowing him to greedily devour you in every single possible way. He was going to seep through the cracks of your body, crawl from within and stream through you, latching and tainting your very self until he was merged with your soul for an eternity.

When the stretch followed by another came, your eyes rolled back and you thrashed your arms weakly as an attempt to hold onto something for support. “Good girl sweetheart, you’re doing so good for me” Jay peers down to see his two fingers lodged in alongside the small toy to stretch you even more, “So good to me”

His muttered words only made you mewl as he simultaneously moved his fingers and toy to stretch out your hole, you were violently shaking your head, “It’s too much- I can’t take it”

“You say that but squeeze like no tomorrow”

“Don’t lie to me, you’re dripping down my fucking hand baby” Jay lowly chuckles but groans when he curls up and feels your gummy walls under his finger tips

“C-Can’t take anymore Jay, 'm serious!” You wailed but to no vail, it didn’t do much when he was rutting his hand harder down on you while moving the plastic in and out of you at a rapid pace

“How else are you going to take my cock in you if you can’t even take this” Jay sadly pouts and recalling the size of him alone made you clench harder around the intrusions in your pussy, “Shit look at you clamping around me. Maybe I should just shove it in you and see how you take it”

”I’d love to see you breaking apart on my cock, bet you’d let me and even thank me for it” You attempt to say something but rip out a cry when his thumb flicks your clit, “Don’t worry though, I don’t want to hurt you darling, it’ll break my heart if I do”

His words went against his actions because with each push into you, you sniffled and cried, your body trashing with pleasure while moaning like you wanted to be heard by everyone.

It didn’t break his heart to see you like this, it stimulated him to do more.

Feeling how you were clamping harder down on his fingers, he realized you were reaching your orgasm. “Gonna come for me baby? Be a good girl and give me your cum?”

You were practically shaking at this point, never in your life had you known a pleasure so good. “Yes I will” You meekly responded, the knotting build up in your stomach growing nearer

The ramming toy sliding in and out of you with ease followed by Spider-Man’s fingers that you hadn’t noticed when it was gone. But you realized when you were stretched out more—way more than what you were feeling just a few seconds ago.

You snap your eyes open and look down to see the discarded toy to the side replaced by Jay guiding his own raging cock into your hole. “So fucking tight shit. I thought it’d loosen you up but fuck it didn’t do anything”

“Jay!” When you scream his name he pants heavily and brings his head up from it hanging between his shoulders to watch how your mouth dropped and the tears spilling down your face when he pushes as deep as he can go

“It’s okay darling. Doing so good for me- that’s it, just take it” He hisses and his arms burned holding himself up but his words were more like a comfort to himself to stay sane, but it was impossible when you hugged him so tightly but still allowed him to ease in you without fail

Jay wasn’t letting you see stars anymore, he was making you become one with them.

When he bottomed out, it was too much for either of you to handle. It was greater than anything in this world and not because of the physical part but rather in the unspoken emotions. How intimately you were connected, his sweaty bare body resting over yours, fitting together and leaving no gaps imaginable.

You whimpered in his neck when he buried himself into yours. His arms caged you and suffocated you, but you weren’t allowed to touch him—you couldn’t burn him and melt him into nothing.

He stayed still for a minute, a silence of accommodation. Absolutely buried to a hilt focusing on how you flutter around him, your hole not used to the stretch but welcoming the intrusion like you were always meant to.

Jay starts slow first, dragging himself out but not far enough where you could feel his absence. He hears your faint noise and grunts when he pushes back in the tightness.

You coat his cock with your slicken arousal, it glimmers in the moonlight and it kills him that he can’t gloss in all your glory. You break out a faint moan at the weak thrust at first, your restrained hands stopping you from clawing at him, left to only claw your fingers into the sticky material.

He groans when you clench around his shaft, “Relax baby. I need you to relax for me okay” It was nearly embarrassing how he almost came just by being inside of you. He had a facade to carry out and he couldn’t risk ruining the experience and cutting it so short. He’d never live with himself if he did

You breathed in and out trying to relax like how he told you but every drag of his length past the soft walls, poking inside whatever he could get his cock to touch was enough to tear you apart.

“So big” You shudder against the shell of his ear and he lightly chuckled, it boosted his ego not as a man but as someone who can please you

He rutted his hips just a little quicker as the soft pained groans from you faded and were replaced with the gripe around him and your beautiful pitched noises filling his ears.

“Yeah? I knew you could take me. I never doubted you for a second, you’ve always been so good. So sweet with your pure heart. Such a kindhearted soul in this sick world” The empty praises filled your heart and you grew dizzy

Your body jolts more frequently as you begin to lose control of your own mentality and succumb to the disaster of your dismantling before Jay.

The rough calloused hands grabbed your sides to stabilize himself when he pistons himself deeper into you. His breath was so hot on your skin that you could feel the fire in your skin, “You’re my good girl right? Taking my cock so deeply in you”

You blabbed incoherently as a response and it left Jay nibbling on your blemished skin. It was blooming with color because of him and it filled his chest with pride—a stark reminder that it was him who did this to you.

Jay thrusted himself into you at a rhythmic pace now, the wet warm confinement made him sick that this will be his greed that he needs for the rest of his life. His rough hands roamed over your body unsure of where to even hold you, each touch of your skin under his hand made him wince, it felt like needles that pricked him but he couldn’t get enough of it.

He groped whatever he could get his hands on which happened to be your jumping tits and he squeezed as he pushed inhumanely harder and deeper that you didn’t even think was possible. He bared his teeth to graze your skin but not enough to bite down on you.

“Jongseong!” You chant as it’s the only thing running through your mind and it made his chest swell

“That’s right, say my name darling. Say my fucking name” He grunts against your shoulder before clamping down the rows of teeth just making you scream

“Jay!” This time it was loud enough that he swore it woke up the entire building, he smiled against you and didn’t stop his thrust for a second

“Let them know who’s ruining you” He digs his nails into your breast to indent them, “No one will ever think about getting close to you again. You’re mine”

Jay could feel his mind reeling when you nodded at his words, his mind and body working against each other that it somehow worked. The hand that gripped the plush chest freed your hand from the webbing and laced your hands together.

The back of your hand bruised with Jay’s death grip but you mimicked how he held you. The touch you finally yearned to have felt nice, to feel his skin with your own hands was an awakening of your soul that you didn’t realize you had. Was it for Spider-Man? Jongseong? Or Jay? You weren’t sure but you could care less.

You knew it was for the man in front of you who rammed so passionately into you like it was home. Jay grunts loudly in your ear, his rough hands tightly gripping your throat making you strain out a noise. The hold tightening around you neck just enough to make you light headed had Jay laughing on your skin, “I want to fucking tear you apart”

That statement alone seemed to bloom butterflies in your stomach. You released one of his hands to claw at his back, dragging your nails down the bare skin—feeling the muscles moving with each thrust.

With your legs still spread apart unable to move from the body in between and the restraint holding them down, Jay’s hip never faltered. The brutal pace he had set that caused the most reaction of you with your scratchier moans and whines each time he pushed in deep and lightly tightened the hold around your neck was all he wanted.

Each single movement led his tip to kiss spots in your gummy walls as he made sure not a single inch of you was untouched by him that you swore it nearly peaked into your cervix.

Jay yelped when you pushed him off your body just enough and you caught his mouth. He melted in the kiss while your arms wrapped around his neck. The kiss was sloppier, far more uncoordinated than before but it was raw. It was true.

Jay’s thrust was erratic now, much faster and harder the more you clenched around him. Your headboard slammed against your wall and your bed creaked with every thrust. You sucked him and it bloomed in his chest that you didn’t want to let him go—much like how he didn’t want to let you go.

“Need to come inside of you. Want you leak of me just so I have the excuse to plug you up to make sure it stays in you” Jay groans, “And if anything dares to leak out, I’ll fuck it back into you”

“I’m going to breed your pussy so fucking full of me” A harsh thump hammered in your chest, your hand clawed his shoulder before dragging your nails, leaving marks in their wake to his biceps where you squeezed, “I’ll fill you up so good doll just to leave a reminder of who is yours forever”

The obscene sounding of skin meeting on skin, your wet mewls and his goans mixing together as your bedding creaking under your rapid rocking bodies.

“Almost there- Just a little more” Jay pushes his cock in and out of you and repeats the motion in whatever pace he can remember, you were clamping around him, the vice sucking him back in, “Take it for me-”

“My beautiful girl” Those three words had you arching off the mattress and gushing around his shaft with no shame while Jay held your hips and bolted his cock as deep as he physically can while he pumped you full beyond capacity

You weakly wrapped your arm around his shoulder and gripped his hand with the other as you focused on the warmth and strips of white painting your velvet walls. You whimpered when Jay continued to move his hips despite neither of your coming down from your orgasms just yet.

“S-sensitive” You sniffle but Jay doesn’t listen to you, his ears were flooded and his mind was fluff as he thought with the only active part of his brain that tells him to eat you up

✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧

Your ragged breaths fanned with Jay’s irregular pants as he pressed his forehead with yours. Your fingers dig into his shoulders and your legs at each side of his thighs shake uncontrollably. His eyes were screwed completely shut as his body cried for rest. The night was still young and round after round wasn’t enough to kill his desire.

While others might’ve thought it was for the horniest thought he’s ever had but to him it was the smartest idea of webbing you to his lap and have you ride him until you and he possibly couldn’t take anymore.

The base of his cock was glossed in white, the dipped crevice of your core gleamed and leaked of his ropes and ropes of release that he keeps fucking back into you so that nothing goes to waste. For what reason? He was still working out the kinks but he knows you need to be full of him in every possible way and he wouldn’t dare deprive you of that.

Jay gulps down harshly, his mind coming down from the uncountable crash of pleasure you gave him but it wasn’t nearly enough. Selfishly he wants more because once he started, there was no way of stopping. However, the moment your hands push down on his chest to your mattress, you dazed towards the jewelry on his chest and he thought you would say something but when you collapsed on top of him, he knew it was over.

Instantly, he’s scooping you into his arms, ripping you from the DIY ropes of his webs from your skin and adjusting you on top of him. His still hard length was nestled in your messy sticky pussy and it twitched when you moved but he pushed down his impulse of slamming his hips up to attend to you.

You were spent beyond repair but luckily Jay has prepared for this moment. It’s all he’s ever dreamt about ever since he met you.

He tangles your body together even more than how it is now. His arms hooked and legs wrapped with yours and rested his head on the crown of yours. With tingling tips of his fingers he traced aimlessly on your back to soothe your regulating breaths now.

Neither of you said anything until he broke the silence with a fling of his wrist and the start of your radio in your dusted corner.

Your eyes felt heavy and Jay could feel how your tensed shoulders that used to weigh you down disappeared and you were soaring in his light. He cleared his throat to rid the scratchy feel from how much he was talking and grunting. But he can’t imagine how you felt from how much you kept screaming for him.

“I hope you know I meant what I said”

“Mhm?” Your eyes were already closing and your drowsiness was taking over that you couldn’t fight back anymore, it was like your body knew you were the safest you will ever be

In the arms of your savior known as the masked vigilante that wasn’t loved by the people but was deeply cared for by you. “That you melt me”

Jay noticed and smiled softly, he placed a soft kiss on top of your head and creased his thumb on your burning skin. “I’m not the bad guy like what the news tries to depict me as. I’m the perfect guy for you”

”I am here to protect you and look out for you even if that means I have to get rid of anything that gets in your way. Now that I’m here, nothing is ever going to hurt you”

Your mind was too burnt out to comprehend what the masked hero was offering—confessing to you; however, in the distance of your room, the radio show host ended the night off, your eyes drooped into slumber—you were safe and that’s all you needed to know.

“This is Vamp Radio, the number 1 crime report station logging off for the night. Make sure to stay safe out there and one last thing…”

“Don’t let the bedbugs bite”

——

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It filled you with such profound longing and want that the only thing that helped ease the feeling was to watch the way the landwalkers went about their days. You watched as giggling landwalking guppies darted from place to place and under their parent’s legs. As people shouted to passersby about the wares they were selling and people walking arm in arm.

You made sure you were always carefully hidden behind some rocks so that you weren’t seen and that your dark blue shifting tail blended nicely with the water. Still, you watched and watched for what seemed like hours.

You wondered what it felt like to be able to walk on land, to feel the rocky surface beneath your feet. Does it hurt? How does one stay upright? Is land walking to the landwalkers the same as swimming to the merfolk? These were all questions you desperately wanted to know the answers to.

Swimming away from the village’s edge, you waded through the fog along the ocean’s surface. You were just about to dive when a flickering light in the distance caught you eye. Cautiously, you decided to see what it was.

Landwalker’s buildings were already tall as it is, but this one was completely different. It pierced through the sky with a beacon of light shining from the top—almost like a second sun being held up. Your eyes widened as you drew closer, ducking behind some rocks as you surveyed the area.

It was on a small island of its own, not too far away from the island the village sat on, but far enough that you’d have to swim for a short while to get from island to island. The building was white and a deep red color like coral on the seafloor. You stared in amazement at it, climbing up onto the rock to get a better look. A tiny building was attached to the bottom of it that looked like it had seen much better days. It was beautiful, you’ve never seen anything quite like it.

Movement in your peripheral had your head snapping in its direction. The door of the small attached building swung open and a man carrying a box stepped out of it, the hat he was wearing nearly slipping off of his head and exposing his dark locks of hair blowing in the crisp wind. You ducked down on the rock a little, making sure that you were covered by the fog. He sat the box down near the entrance of the building just as a loud sound had you jumping out of your scales.

It was a deep, almost guttural sound. You tried to look for the source of it and saw that it came from the large horn near the small building. Birds flew from their perches to a quieter place and you slid off the rock, drawing nearer to the shore.

Your father’s warnings rang deep inside you, yet you tried to push his words down. Don’t go near the surface, my child. The dangerous landwalkers will lure you in and capture you so that you are never seen ever again. They cannot be trusted. They will bottle your song and use it for their wrongdoings.

You hid behind some more rocks and watched him work. He kept disappearing into the small building and if you looked up, you could almost see him between the flickering light. If he wasn’t inside, he was out tidying the area around where he worked—stacking and fixing various things. Occasionally, he would also look out to the sea, seemingly monitoring the waves and the fog before scribbling something down in what you think was called a book. When he did, you sunk down into the water until only your eyes and the top of your head was above the surface.

What interested you the most was how the man seemed to be alone. Why was he so far away from the rest of the landwalkers? What made him different? What was this building that he was working on? You had so many questions and so little answers—and nobody to ask.

You couldn’t tell any of your people that you watched the landwalkers daily. You would get into an enormous amount of trouble and would never be able to see the surface again. You didn’t want that to happen, and you couldn’t bear the thought of it. Especially with your newfound fixation on the lonely landwalker.

Instead, day after day, you watched the man work—no longer so curious about the ventures of the village landwalkers. The more you watched him work, muscles straining against his rolled up sleeves and brows furrowed,the more you noticed him. He was very handsome in a landwalker sort of way, the most beautiful out of them you’ve seen thus far. You wondered if he had a life outside of this building on the shore. Perhaps it was back in the small house a short walk away from the shore? Was his whole life on this tiny island?

You suppose you wouldn’t mind a life of solitude if you were him. Busy life in the village seemed to be overwhelming after a while. Maybe he thought the same way you did.

Dusk fell and a cold breeze swept up the shore from the waters. You had spent the whole day again watching the man work at what you now knew was called a lighthouse. He was wiping the attached building of the lighthouse down after the recent rainstorm, frustratingly muttering under his breath.

You noticed that he didn’t talk much, only a simple, quiet word here or there. At first, you thought he couldn’t speak at all, until now.

“Shit!” he hissed as he threw the rag down onto the ground. The paint was starting to peel off of the siding on the building from the harsh winds and water. “Now I’m gonna have to paint this whole building again.”

You giggled at his reaction. Your giggle must’ve been too loud because his head snapped in your direction and you quickly sunk down behind the rocks. This was dangerous, you knew that, and it already seemed that you were getting too comfortable being out in the open. Yet, you giggled to yourself more, more quietly this time as bubbles rippled up from the water. The man’s brows furrowed but he just shook his head a little. You slowly rose to the surface just as he spoke again. “Come on, Sunghoon. Don’t start losing it now,” he murmured.

Sunghoon, that was his name. You tried his name on your tongue. “Sung… hoon…” you spoke softly before smiling. “Pretty.”

The light at the top of the lighthouse burned brightly against the darkening sky, signaling that it was past the time for you to start swimming home. You turned and began swimming away from the shore, starting your journey.

Something sat heavily in the pit of your stomach and it was beginning to weigh you down. It was that same longing and want, this time more pronounced and refusing to be swallowed and digested. You stopped swimming and stared up at the bright, almost full moon in the sky.

You would give anything to walk on land, to experience life as a landwalker does and be on land. You didn’t want to be confined to the sea anymore. You didn’t want to have a tail anymore—you wanted legs. You wanted to be a landwalker, not a mermaid.

Your heart racing, an old story your father once told you interrupted your thoughts. The story of a young mermaid trading her tail for landwalker’s legs.

It was supposed to be a cautionary tale, one to ward off small merfolk from intermingling with the landwalkers, but to you, it was an answer. One you were desperate for. The tale talked about how the mermaid visited a sea witch deep down in a cave at the bottom of the ocean and begged her to change her tail for legs.

The witch and her struck a deal: the mermaid was to sacrifice four of her pearlescent scales in exchange for a week on land. During said week, the mermaid had to find the witch various hard-to-find ingredients and bring it back to her by the end of it. If she didn’t fulfill her end of the deal after the week was up, her tail would come back and she would never be able to have legs again. Only, swimming would not be as easy or as painless as it once was.

You made your decision. You were going to find the sea witch and strike a deal with her the same way the mermaid from the story did. What were a few scales and ingredients when you could finally walk on land? Finally have your dreams become reality?

Your next course of action was to find out information on where the sea witch’s cave could be.

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✉️   ⦂   hey…. i just want you all to heed my warning when i say that this story will absolutely rip your heart out… LMAOO,,, the angst in this one is heavyyyy!!!!! btw, if any of you wanted to see all the changes / additions i made to the rework, then here is the original version! ♡

𖥦 ﴾ 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 . . . 𝘄𝗶𝗽𝘀 , 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ﴿ @innocygnet @ikeukiss @tinycatharsis @prkhaven @jaylaxies @bambiihee @fangel @xylatox @whosserina @jellymochii @minaateez @lvrs-street2mmorrow @chccnne @everythingvirgoes @beomieeeeeeeeeeees @sumsumtingz @riribelle @sunoosgfv @yingelics @yourislandgirl @dollyyhoon @fancypeacepersona @hoonstrology @invsomnixa1

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that was when you heard the first laugh—a high-pitched, playful sound that seemed to come from the top of the blue slide.

you froze, your grip tightening on the flashlight. that couldn't be right. you'd checked every area twice already, made certain no guests remained. the park was supposed to be empty.

"hello?" you called out, your voice steady despite the sudden chill running down your spine. "the park is closed."

there was no response at first, just the continued dripping of water and that odd, heavy silence.

you were about to dismiss it as your imagination when the laughter came again, closer this time, seeming to bounce off the fibreglass walls of the slides.

your pulse quickened as you approached the staircase leading up to the slide platform. the metal steps were slick with condensation under your hands as you climbed, your flashlight beam cutting through the darkness.

"if someone's up here, you need to leave now," you said, forcing authority into your voice even as your palms grew damp.

when you reached the top, the mouth of the slide gaped before you, a circle of darkness that seemed deeper than it should be. you crouched to shine your light down its length, expecting to see nothing but empty plastic. instead, there was movement—something pale flickering at the edge of your vision.

before you could react, the world twisted around you. it wasn't wind that pulled at you, but something far more unnatural. the slide's opening seemed to stretch, the darkness within it suddenly alive and hungry. you tried to scramble back, but your feet slipped on the wet platform.

as you fell forward, you realised this wasn't just a slide anymore. the walls pressed in around you, warm and yielding like flesh, the air thick with the cloying scent of chlorine and something decaying. you flailed, trying to find purchase, but there was nothing to grab onto as you tumbled through that impossible space.

then there was only nothingness.

the impact knocked the air from your lungs before you even realised you'd stopped falling. your elbows stung where they'd slammed against the tile, your ribs aching like you'd been folded in half.

for several terrifying seconds you just lay there, gasping, your vision swimming as you tried to remember how to breathe. when you finally managed to push yourself up, your hands slipped on the damp floor—not the smooth fibreglass of the slide, but something older and cracked that felt wrong.

the slide was gone.

you whirled around, panic rising like floodwater in your chest, but there was only a wall behind you—water-stained wallpaper peeling away to reveal moldering drywall beneath. the cheerful cartoon dolphins printed on it were faded, their smiles stretched and warped where the paper bubbled.

your breath came in short, sharp bursts as you staggered to your feet, the room tilting dangerously around you. this wasn't possible. you'd just been at work. you'd just been checking the slides.

the space around you stretched endlessly in every direction, a nightmare parody of the waterpark you knew. the same blue-and-yellow colour scheme, but bleached and sickly under flickering fluorescents. the wave pools were empty except for stagnant puddles that reflected the ceiling back at you in distorted fragments. the air clung to your skin, thick with the scent of mildew and that same overpowering chlorine sting—but underneath it, something sweet. cloying. like fruit left to rot in standing water.

"hello?" your voice cracked on the word, barely louder than a whisper.

when no answer came, you tried again, louder: "is anyone here?" the sound died almost instantly, as if the humid air had swallowed it whole.

you moved forward without meaning to, your sneakers sticking slightly to the tacky floor with each step. the lights buzzed overhead, their flickering intensifying as you passed beneath them. down one hallway lined with lockers rusted shut, past another shallow pool that had no visible edge—just tile that stretched on until it blurred into the distance. your fingers trailed along the wall for balance, coming away damp.

a sound from above made you freeze. not the creak of old pipes, but something... wetter. like flesh dragging across metal. you didn't look up. couldn't look up. your pulse roared in your ears as you forced yourself to keep moving, your breath coming too fast.

in the reflection of a murky puddle, you saw something move behind you—a pale shape where nothing should be. when you spun around, there was only an empty hallway. but the puddle rippled, as if whatever had been there had just stepped out of view.

you broke into a run.

the corridors twisted in ways that made no sense, leading you past the same cracked mirror three times, past a snack stand with its menu board melted like wax. your lungs burned, your thighs aching, but you didn't stop until you reached a small kiddie pool tucked between two crumbling walls. its cheerful mosaic tiles were chipped and faded, the painted sea creatures now just vague smudges of colour. you collapsed beside it, pressing your back against the wall as you struggled to catch your breath.

that was when you heard the whistling.

low. off-key. a tune you almost recognised but couldn't place. your blood turned to ice in your veins.

the sound was getting closer.

you scrambled behind a rusted lifeguard chair, its paint flaking away under your desperate grip.

the whistling continued, unhurried, accompanied now by the steady tap of footsteps against tile. a shadow stretched long across the floor before its owner appeared—a boy, maybe your age, dressed in a staff polo that looked freshly laundered. his black hair was neatly styled, his sneakers pristine where yours were soaked. the name tag on his chest caught the light when he moved, but the letters swam when you tried to focus on them.

he saw you immediately. of course he did.

"there you are," he said, as if you'd been keeping him waiting. his voice was pleasant, almost friendly, but his smile didn't reach his eyes. they stayed dark and unreadable as he took a step closer.

"it's not safe to be out alone."

you pressed yourself harder against the wall, your mouth dry. he looked human. normal. but nothing here was normal.

when he extended his hand, his fingers were clean. no dirt under his nails. no dampness on his skin.

"come on," he urged, tilting his head slightly. "before they find you."

above you, the lights flickered again. somewhere in the distance, something heavy dragged itself through water.

his smile never wavered.

your fingers twitched before you even realised you were reaching for him—some primal part of your brain screaming that warmth meant safety, that another human voice in this suffocating silence was worth clinging to, no matter how wrong this all felt.

his hand closed around yours without hesitation, his skin almost feverishly hot compared to the clammy chill clinging to your own.

"i'm jungwon," he said, pulling you to your feet with unsettling ease, like your weight meant nothing.

his fingers lingered a second too long when he let go, leaving behind a tingling imprint that made you want to rub your palm against your jeans.

"you're lucky i found you first."

the words slithered under your skin. first before who? before what?

he was already moving, his steps light and certain against the warped tiles as he led you down another decaying hallway. you followed because there was no other choice, your sneakers squeaking against the damp floor while his made no sound at all.

when you opened your mouth to speak, your voice came out cracked and thin: "where—"

"this place doesn't have a name," he interrupted, glancing back with a smile that didn’t crinkle the corners of his eyes. "not one you'd understand."

his gaze flickered over your face, lingering on the way you bit your lip, the rapid flutter of your pulse in your throat.

"i call it the aquatic sector."

your breath hitched. the backrooms. those creepy internet stories you'd skimmed late at night, half-believing, half-mocking.

"like... the backrooms?" you whispered, the word tasting absurd even as it left your tongue.

jungwon's smile didn’t waver, "something like that." he said it so casually, like he was discussing the weather, and the sheer normality of his tone made your stomach twist.

he turned a corner without checking if you followed—of course you did, where else would you go?—and you realised with a jolt that he knew this place. the way his shoulders never tensed at the distant, wet sounds echoing through the pipes. the way he stepped over a particular cracked tile without looking down, avoiding the dark stain spreading beneath it like he’d done it a hundred times before.

when he finally pushed open a door marked staff only, the room beyond was so jarringly intact it made your eyes water. clean towels stacked neatly on a shelf. unopened cans of fruit lined up in a tiny pantry. a battery-powered lantern cast warm light over a faded couch, its cushions dented from use. it looked like a lifeguard break room plucked straight from your own world and dropped here, untouched by the decay choking everything outside.

"this zone's safe," jungwon said, watching your face as you took it in. he grabbed a water bottle from the cabinet and held it out to you, the plastic crinkling in his grip. "but only for now."

your fingers trembled as you took it, the condensation cool against your palm. you wanted to drink so badly your throat ached with it, but the way he watched you—head slightly tilted, dark eyes tracking the bob of your throat as you swallowed nervously—made your grip tighten without opening it.

something about the way his smile didn't reach his eyes, about how his uniform was still perfectly dry when your clothes clung damp and clammy to your skin, about how he'd known exactly where to find you in this endless maze.

"you should drink," he said, softer now.

he took a step closer and you could smell the faint citrus of his shampoo, so out of place here it made your pulse skip.

"you'll get dehydrated fast in this sector."

his fingers brushed yours as he reached to twist the cap off for you, and for a dizzying second you considered letting him. his touch was the only warm thing in this entire place. but then the pipes above you groaned, a wet, meaty sound that had you jerking back, the water bottle slipping from your grip to roll across the floor.

jungwon's expression darkened for just a second—a flicker of something sharp behind his pleasant mask—before he sighed and crouched to retrieve it.

"you'll learn," he said, more to himself than to you as he placed the bottle carefully on the table.

outside, something heavy splashed into one of the pools, the sound echoing through the thin walls. when you tensed, jungwon's hand settled between your shoulder blades, warm even through your damp hoodie.

"don't worry," he murmured, his breath stirring your hair. "i won't let anything hurt you."

the promise should have been comforting. so why did it feel like a threat?

time bent around you like wet paper, the hours stretching and warping until you couldn’t tell if minutes or days had passed.

jungwon became your only constant, your lifeline in this rotting, endless maze. he told you where to sleep (the staff break room, always with the door locked), when to hide (when the lights flickered in a pattern that wasn’t random), which corridors to avoid (the ones with the faint smell of overripe bananas). but he never explained why.

"don’t follow the laughter," he said one evening, or what you thought was evening, as you both sat cross-legged on the floor of the break room, sharing a can of peaches.

the syrup was too sweet, clinging to your teeth, but you ate it anyway because hunger gnawed at your stomach like a living thing.

you frowned. "what laughter?"

jungwon’s fingers paused where they’d been tracing patterns on the tile floor. he didn’t look up.

"you’ll know it when you hear it. it sounds almost human. almost." his voice dropped on the last word, and something in his tone made you set the can down, your appetite gone.

"that’s not an answer," you muttered.

he finally lifted his gaze, his dark eyes unreadable. "it’s the only one i can give you."

you wanted to push, to demand more, but then the walls breathed—a slow, wet expansion of the water-damaged drywall that made you recoil. jungwon didn’t even flinch.

"also," he continued, as if nothing had happened, "don’t trust water that moves on its own. and never, never go into a glowing slide."

"why not?"

he leaned forward suddenly, close enough that you could see the faint scar on his lower lip, the way his pupils swallowed the dim light.

"because some doors only open one way," he whispered. then he pulled back, his smile returning like a curtain falling.

"eat your peaches."

you noticed things, over time. the way the walls never dripped when jungwon was near, how the flickering fluorescents steadied when he walked beneath them, as if they were afraid to sputter out in his presence. you noticed how he watched you—constantly—his gaze lingering on the way you tucked your hair behind your ear, how your fingers trembled when you were tired.

and then you found the notebook.

it was tucked under his pillow, the leather cover worn soft. you hadn’t meant to snoop, but he’d been gone longer than usual (to "check the perimeter," whatever that meant), and the silence had pressed in on you until you needed something to focus on besides the sound of your own heartbeat.

the first page was a sketch of your face, rendered in startling detail. your lips slightly parted in sleep, your eyelashes casting shadows on your cheeks. you turned the page.

another. another. dozens of drawings, all of you—your hands clutching a blanket, your back arched in alarm when something had banged on the door the night before, your tear-streaked cheeks from when you’d broken down sobbing your third day here.

your breath caught.

"you’re beautiful when you’re afraid."

you hadn’t heard him come in. jungwon stood in the doorway, his head tilted, his expression unreadable. your fingers clenched around the notebook, the paper crinkling under your grip.

he stepped closer, his movements smooth and predatory.

"just kidding," he murmured, but his eyes—dark and endless—never left yours.

he pried the notebook from your hands with terrifying gentleness, his thumb brushing over a sketch of your crying face. "you’re beautiful all the time."

the air between you thickened, the silence broken only by the distant sound of something heavy dragging itself through water. jungwon didn’t seem to hear it. his gaze burned into you, possessive and hungry, and for the first time, you realised the most dangerous thing in this place wasn’t the shifting halls or the things that lurked in the water.

it was the boy standing in front of you, smiling like he already knew every way you’d break.

the air in the filtration room had been particularly thick that day, clinging to your skin like a second layer of sweat as you followed jungwon through yet another routine patrol.

you'd memorised the path by now—past the cracked wave pool tiles, left at the concession stand with its permanently stuck "hot dogs $3.99" sign, right at the third set of rusted lockers.

his flashlight beam cut through the perpetual twilight, illuminating dust motes that swirled like tiny galaxies in the stale air.

"wait here," jungwon said suddenly, his hand squeezing your wrist just a bit too tight before releasing.

the filtration tunnel gaped before you both, its mouth dark and damp.

"i need to check something. don't move." his smile didn't reach his eyes as he said it, the way it never did anymore.

you nodded, forcing your breathing to stay even as you watched him disappear into the tunnel. the moment his light vanished around the first bend, your body thrummed with nervous energy. this was it. you'd been watching for weeks, noting which corridors made him tense, which doors he always locked extra carefully. the copper-scented hallway to your right had been his most consistent avoidance.

the first step away from the tunnel entrance sent a jolt of electricity up your spine. your sneakers made barely a sound against the slick tiles, your movements practised after so many days of following his lead through these endless halls. the chlorine-copper smell grew stronger with each step, so potent it made your eyes water and your tongue feel coated in pennies.

halfway down the corridor, your foot caught on something soft. you barely stifled a scream as you looked down to see what appeared to be a waterlogged park uniform, the fabric bloated and discoloured. something about the way it lay—too flat, too empty—made your stomach turn. you stepped over it carefully, your pulse pounding in your ears.

the maintenance ladder appeared like a mirage, its rusted rungs nearly blending into the water-stained wall. you tested the first step with your weight, wincing as the metal groaned in protest. every creak seemed deafening in the silent hallway. as you climbed, the air grew noticeably colder, each breath forming visible clouds that dissipated into the gloom above you.

at the top, the platform was smaller than you expected, barely three feet across. the glowing slide pulsed before you, its eerie green light casting strange shadows across your trembling hands. up close, the hum you'd noticed from below vibrated through your teeth, setting your nerves on edge.

you hesitated, one hand hovering over the slide's entrance. jungwon's warning echoed in your mind, but so did the memory of his sketches, the way his fingers lingered just a beat too long when he touched you. the way he'd started saying "we" instead of "you" when talking about the future.

the decision crystallised in an instant. you launched yourself forward, the slide's surface shockingly cold even through your clothes. for one glorious moment, you felt weightless, the current carrying you forward with exhilarating speed.

then the world twisted.

the temperature plummeted so fast your muscles locked in protest. the smooth tunnel contorted violently, the walls rippling like disturbed water before going rigid at impossible angles. your scream caught in your throat as you were flung sideways, then upside down, the laws of physics abandoning you completely.

when you finally crashed into a brackish pool, the impact drove what little air remained from your lungs. the water tasted foul—salt and something organic, something living. you thrashed toward the surface, your limbs heavy with exhaustion and terror.

breaking through into the air brought no relief. the cavernous room stretched endlessly in every direction, the ceiling lost in shadow. the pool's edges weren't tile but something porous and veined, pulsing faintly in time with your racing heartbeat.

then you saw him.

jungwon stood perfectly still at the water's edge, his clothes soaked through as if he'd swum through miles of tunnels to reach you. water dripped from his hair into his eyes, but he didn't blink. the quiet rage radiating from him was more terrifying than any monster this place could have conjured.

"didn't i say," he began, his voice deceptively soft as he stepped into the pool, "not to trust glowing slides?" each word carried the weight of betrayal, his hands flexing at his sides.

the water resisted as you tried to back away, its viscosity suddenly wrong - too thick, too clinging. jungwon closed the distance effortlessly, his fingers wrapping around your biceps with bruising force as he hauled you onto the slick ground.

your body hit the floor with a wet slap, the impact reverberating through your bones. jungwon loomed over you, his knees caging your hips, his breath coming in sharp bursts that fogged in the frigid air. up close, you could see the way his pupils had swallowed nearly all the brown in his eyes, leaving only thin rings of colour around bottomless black.

"you could have died," he hissed, his voice cracking on the last word.

one hand came up to cradle your jaw, his thumb brushing roughly over your cheekbone.

"do you have any idea what's out there? what would have happened if i hadn't found you?"

tears spilled hot down your cheeks, the salt taste mixing with the brackish water still dripping from your hair.

"i just wanted to go home," you choked out, your voice barely audible over the distant, watery echoes of the cavern.

jungwon's expression fractured. he pressed his forehead to yours, his nose brushing against your tear-streaked skin.

"this is your home," he whispered, the words vibrating through your skull. "i'm your home."

his grip gentled as he pulled you upright, his arms wrapping around your shivering form in a mockery of comfort. one hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head back until you had no choice but to meet his gaze.

"don't ever do that again," he murmured, his lips grazing your temple. the kiss felt like a brand.

"next time..." his fingers tightened almost imperceptibly in your hair. "next time i might not be able to save you."

the unspoken threat hung between you, heavier than the humid air, darker than the endless corridors stretching in every direction. as he helped you to your feet, his arm slung possessively around your waist, you realised with dawning horror that you'd just proven his worst fear.

and in doing so, you'd given him the perfect excuse to never let you out of his sight again.

that night, something inside you finally cracked open—not with the sharp snap of defiance, but with the slow, inevitable splintering of resistance worn down by exhaustion and something dangerously close to surrender.

you sat shivering on the edge of his mattress, the damp fabric of your clothes clinging to your goosebumped skin like a second layer of shame. the scent of chlorine still clung to your hair, undercut by something darker—something organic and vaguely sweet, like fruit left to rot in standing water, which seemed like a recirring scent in this place.

jungwon knelt before you, a threadbare towel in his hands, his movements methodical as he dragged the rough fabric up your calf. the friction should have warmed you, but you only felt colder with each pass, your skin pebbling under his touch.

"you never listen," he whispered, his voice almost affectionate, the way one might scold a beloved but wayward pet.

his fingers tightened slightly around your ankle—not enough to hurt, just enough to make the bones shift under his grip.

"do you know how many rules you broke today?" his thumb pressed into the hollow beneath your ankle bone, a silent demand for your attention.

you swallowed hard, your throat clicking with the motion. "i just—"

"shh," he interrupted, pressing a finger to your lips. his skin tasted like salt and metal. "i know what you were trying to do. but we don't lie to each other, do we?"

his hand slid higher up your thigh, fingers pressing into the soft flesh there, just shy of bruising. "say it."

your breath hitched. "no. we don't lie."

"good girl." the praise curled warm in your stomach despite everything.

his thumb hooked into the waistband of your soaked shorts, tugging them down your legs with agonising slowness.

"i should punish you," he mused, his breath hot against your inner thigh as he pressed a kiss there, "but you look so pathetic like this."

his teeth grazed your skin—not biting, just testing. "all shivering and wide-eyed. like a drowned kitten."

you should have stopped him. should have pushed him away. but your hands stayed limp at your sides, fingers twitching against the mattress as he pulled you closer to the edge, his grip firm on your hips.

"jungwon—"

"tell me you're sorry," he murmured against your skin, his lips brushing the crease of your thigh.

your pulse pounded in your ears. "i'm sorry."

"for what, exactly?" his tongue darted out to taste you, just once, making your stomach clench.

"for—for trying to leave." the admission tasted bitter on your tongue.

he hummed, the vibration travelling straight to your core. "and?"

"for not listening." your voice broke on the last word.

his mouth found you then, soft at first—just the barest flick of his tongue that made your toes curl. then deeper, firmer, until you couldn't stifle the gasp that tore from your throat. your thighs trembled around his head, your fingers twisting into the sheets as he worked you open with his tongue, each lick sending sparks up your spine.

"that's better," he murmured against you, the vibrations making your hips jerk.

"this is what you need, isn't it? to be reminded?" his fingers dug into your hips, holding you still as his tongue circled your clit with devastating precision. "to be taken care of?"

you couldn't answer. your thoughts had dissolved into static, your body no longer your own. when you whimpered his name, he hummed in approval, the sound curling low in your belly.

"use your words, sweetheart." his breath was hot against your soaked skin. "tell me what you want."

"please—"

"please what?" he nipped at your inner thigh, just hard enough to sting. "you have to say it."

your vision blurred at the edges. "please don't stop."

he rewarded you immediately, his tongue laving over you in broad strokes before he pressed two fingers inside, curling them expertly until your walls fluttered around him.

"like that?" he asked, his voice rough. "you want me to make you cum? to remind you who you belong to?"

you nodded frantically, your hips rocking against his hand.

"say it." his fingers stilled inside you, denying you the friction you craved. "say you're mine."

the words stuck in your throat for only a second before you choked them out: "i'm yours."

he crooked his fingers just right, the heel of his palm grinding against you in time with each thrust, and you shattered—your back arching off the mattress, your walls fluttering around him as pleasure ripped through you like a riptide.

he kissed you after, his lips tasting of you, his grip bruising on your jaw as he held you in place.

"you're mine," he said again, his voice rough, his pupils blown so wide they swallowed the brown of his eyes.

"no one else gets to have you. not even reality."

his words settled into your bones like a curse. you wanted to protest. wanted to tell him you belonged to yourself, that this place wasn't your home, that you would find a way out. but when he pulled you against his chest, his heartbeat steady under your ear, you didn't resist. and when his fingers traced idle patterns over your hip—claiming and possessive—you let him.

because the worst part wasn't the way he touched you.

it was the way your body arched into his hand when he reached for you again.

the way your breath caught when he whispered, "again."

the way you obeyed.

after that night, the invisible leash around your throat pulled taut like a noose gradually tightening. jungwon became your shadow, your keeper, your only tether to anything resembling safety in this rotting labyrinth.

when he did leave—always with that same murmured excuse about "checking the perimeter"—the backrooms seemed to come alive with malicious intent. the first time it happened, you sat perfectly still for exactly three minutes after he left, counting each second by the erratic drip of water from a ceiling pipe.

then the lights began stuttering like a dying man's pulse.

"jungwon?" you called out, immediately hating how small your voice sounded.

the hallway ahead warped suddenly, the tiles rippling like water disturbed by some unseen force. when you turned to run back to the break room, the door you'd just come through was gone—replaced by a staircase that definitely hadn't been there before, its steps slick with something dark and viscous.

"no, no, no," you chanted under your breath, pressing your back against the wall as the staircase shifted again, the top step now leading to a ceiling vent far too small for any human to crawl through.

that was when you heard it—a wet, clicking sound from the darkness beneath the stairs, accompanied by the unmistakable scent of overripe bananas and something metallic. your stomach turned as the clicking grew louder, more rhythmic, like dozens of tiny bones knocking together.

jungwon found you exactly seven minutes later curled behind a stack of mouldy pool noodles, your nails digging bloody crescents into your palms.

"i told you not to wander," he sighed, crouching before you.

his fingers were warm when they pried yours open, his thumbs rubbing circles into your clenched fists.

"what did you see?"

"the stairs—they moved," you gasped, still trembling. "and there was something under—"

"shhh," he interrupted, pressing a finger to your lips.

his eyes darted to the hallway behind you, suddenly sharp. "don't say it out loud. this place listens."

he helped you stand, his arm slipping around your waist in a way that might have been comforting if not for how easily his fingers spanned nearly the entire width of your torso. "let's get you cleaned up."

you tried to assert yourself exactly once, three days later.

it started as a simple request—"i need space"—but the words came out cracked and brittle, like you were begging rather than demanding.

jungwon paused in the middle of rewrapping your blistered foot (when had you gotten blisters?), his head tilting in that unnervingly precise way of his.

"space?" he repeated, the word curling oddly in his mouth.

his smile bloomed slow and sweet, like blood spreading through water. "oh, sweetheart. there's nothing but space here."

his fingers brushed your ankle, trailing upward with deliberate slowness.

"endless, hungry space." when his hand reached your knee, he squeezed just enough to make your breath hitch. "i'm just protecting you."

you swallowed hard. "from what?"

jungwon leaned in so close his lips brushed your ear, his next words a warm puff of air that made you shiver.

"from what happens to pretty things that get lost in the dark."

he pulled back slightly, his dark eyes searching yours.

"this place listens to me. you don't want to hear what it says about you when i'm gone." his thumb traced your lower lip. "the way it licks its chops every time you stumble. the way the walls whisper about how sweet you'd taste."

that night, you woke abruptly to the feeling of something cool and padded encircling your wrists. your eyes flew open to find yourself in jungwon's lap, your arms secured to the bench with what looked like salvaged lifeguard rescue tubes—the orange foam frayed but still sturdy.

"w-what—" you stammered, panic surging as you tugged against the restraints.

"shhh, just for your safety," jungwon soothed, his fingers already carding through your hair. the casual ease with which he held you down sent ice through your veins.

"you were thrashing in your sleep again. nearly rolled right off the bench." he held up a can of peaches, the syrup glistening in the low light. "let's get some food in you, yeah?"

when you turned your head away, his grip tightened fractionally in your hair.

"now, now," he chided, popping the lid with a metallic snick. "none of that."

the first syrupy slice pressed against your lips was cold and cloying. "open."

the fight drained out of you with terrifying speed. by the third bite, you were chewing mechanically, the sweetness coating your tongue like medicine. jungwon's approving hum vibrated through you as he wiped a stray drop of syrup from your chin with his thumb—then sucked it clean with a soft, satisfied sound.

"good girl," he murmured, kissing each of your knuckles in turn. the shackles stayed on all night.

as the days bled together, resistance became a distant memory, as foreign as sunlight or fresh air.

his touches became your only constants—the steadying hand at your elbow when the floor suddenly slanted, the broad palm spanning your back when a corridor narrowed unexpectedly, the strong arms that lifted you effortlessly over patches of suspicious-looking water. in the hot pool (the one oasis in this rotting place, its waters always perfectly clear and heated), he would wrap around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder as the steam curled around you both.

"feel good?" he'd murmur, his hands drifting along your arms beneath the water.

you'd nod silently, too tired to lie or protest. his heartbeat against your back was the only rhythm left in this place, the only thing that still made sense.

the backrooms themselves seemed to worship him. puddles stilled when he approached, their surfaces going eerily smooth. hallways straightened obediently at his approach.

once, when you caught your reflection in the pool's surface, it grinned at you—wide and knowing—even as your own face remained carefully blank. when you jerked back with a gasp, jungwon just tightened his arms around you.

"just a trick of the light," he murmured, but his smile didn't reach his eyes.

the question burned in your chest for days before you finally found the courage to whisper it one night: "what are you?"

jungwon went very still, his fingers pausing where they'd been tracing nonsense patterns on your bare shoulder. for a long moment, the only sound was the distant drip of water and your own too-quick breathing.

"i used to be like you," he said at last, his voice soft with something almost like regret. "scared. lost. convinced there was a way out."

his hand returned to your shoulder, his thumb brushing the knob of your collarbone. "then i stopped pretending to be afraid. stopped fighting what this place wanted from me."

his lips grazed your temple, lingering just a second too long. "you'll understand soon."

the promise should have terrified you. should have sent you scrambling for escape. instead, a warm heaviness settled in your chest, spreading through your limbs like syrup. when he pulled you closer, you went without resistance, your head finding its familiar place against his shoulder.

outside your fragile bubble of warmth, the backrooms groaned and shifted—but here, cradled in jungwon's arms, the world held its breath. you closed your eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his breathing lull you into something like peace.

somewhere along the way, you'd forgotten how to fight.

somewhere deeper still, you'd stopped wanting to.

it had been weeks—or maybe months, you had no idea how the warped time her worked—since jungwon had let you out of his sight for more than a few minutes at a time.

you'd practised the request of wanting to sleep alone in your head for days, carefully framing it as concern for his own rest rather than your desperate need for space.