beach day with hyuka!
pairing- idolhueningkai x chubbyreader
warnings- implied relationship, mentions of insecurities kai being a perfect bf as always , fluffy angst, fluff/smut, slight size kink 🥸, fingering, squirting twice if you squint, sex in front of a mirror EVERYONE CHEER, hella praising (y/n receiving), doggy style (in front of the mirror), slightly mean kai barely, implied shower sex (isn’t included i can do a part two later), they fr end up going to the beach
word count- >1k
with both your schedules conflicting, you havent had a chance to be alone together let alone going out on dates, there was several time where this has happened throughout hueningkai’s career and you guys have always manage to work through it like anything else in your relationship, there was never a problem you guys couldnt fix or work through.
while you and kai were always spending time with each other, you have both come to the agreement that staying in and cuddling couldn’t be the only thing that was considered a date night, so to avoid all confusion you both decided that it was important to alway go out every once in a while. you guys always switch off for who picks the location, and today it was kai’s turn to pick out everything and surprise you.
there were certain times where you wouldn’t feel so secure in your relationship, dating an idol isn’t easy but you knew that, with the interviews, the models and the long distance in and out of different countries— it was a lot to take in but you still managed to have some normalcy in your relationship. it still didn’t stop the unsettling feeling that he could just be tolerating this relationship, i mean honestly could he actually want a real long lasting relationship with you? lets be honest he was attractive and he could pull any female idol he wanted (any idol for that matter), the relationship could be so much easier with understanding the schedule or just the job in general. but that was something you haven’t quite told huening yet, but it was about time you told him.
it was nearing the time that kai was off of work, and you were begin to prepare the stuff you’ll be needing at the beach (bless kai’s heart) but he couldn’t keep a secret for the life of him. you began picking through the bathing suits you had on hand, trying them on to see which one you liked best but every time you did, it felt like nothing would look right or fit right. you knew kai wouldn’t care how you dressed or what you even looked like with the suit on, you knew that he loved you for who you are and not the way you looked in a bathing suit.
you heard the clicking of the lock that was to your shared apartment and in walked kai still humming the latest song from rehearsals, but to his surprise there was only the sounds of frustration coming from your guys bedroom which had kai walking in wondering what was wrong.
“baby is everything okay?” he questioned while he saw the mess of bikinis and one pieces spread across the room while you were rummaging through the drawers of your dresser trying to find one specific top that you could not for the life of you find. he began to step forward towards you, all you could manage to let out a frustrated sign and let him take your hands to guide you to the bed.
“baby tell me whats wrong, did something happen while i was at work?” he was so kind and gentle with his words when it came to you, it didn’t matter if it took you a minute to finally speak he’s just glad you were willing to open up and talk to him.
“i.. i dont know i just.. the bathing suits make me ugly, i cant find the right top i jus-“ kai cut you off completely by kissing your cheek, how dare your brain let you think you look anything but beautiful. there was nothing in the world that you could do or wear that could make him think differently about you.
“it’s the bathing suits fault not you, youre absolutely stunning and i wouldn’t care if you wore nothing to the beach, i just want you to feel comfortable baby, thats all…” he paused while you began to giggle at his comment but somehow he always knew you needed more of a reassurance to convince you.
he began to run his warm palm up and down your thigh trying to relieve any built up anxiety you might still have. “.. you know i love you just the way you are, the way you carry yourself and how you couldn’t care less what anybody else thinks. i just wish you would see yourself the way i see you, because you’re absolutely beautiful so please my love don’t over think it.” the whole time he was looking at you, trying to see what is going on in that pretty little head of yours. but you shook your head trying not to make it an even bigger deal than it was already, but kai didnt mind not one bit, he took your hand into his and gave it a good squeeze before continuing.
“you look absolutely ravishing right now and honestly i dont think we could make it past the front door if you keep changing bathing suits.” kai searched your eyes for something, anything to say that you were okay and still wanted to go with him, even if it wasnt the beach. he just wanted for you to be happy with him by your side.
you began to sniffle a bit, trying hard not to cry in front of him. “thank you hyuka, i’ve actually been scared of telling you but i still feel so conflicting when it comes to us, i know you love me and i know i love you more than you can imagine but i still cant help but feel like..” you choked on your words a bit not wanting them to come out but you knew deep down he should know, kai was still attentive and hanging on to your ever word. he nodded waiting for you to continue.
“i dont want you to think im breaking up with you or anything-“ you started off but kai quickly muttered a quick thanks to whatever gods are out there. -“ but i need you to know i haven’t felt happy in my own body, but it really does help that you love me the way i am.” you gripped onto his sleeve trying to ground yourself in anyway you can. he pulled you in to him and rubbed your back while you let a small cry, he wanted to make sure you let everything out, not wanting to ruin your day any further before speaking.
after your breathing slowed down he gathered your face into his big hands wiping away the tears that lingered on your face, he kissed your nose, then your cheeks and under your eyes and anywhere else that he could kiss you leaving your lips last. “thank you for telling me baby, im glad you were willing to tell me but i need you know that i love you no matter what, i knew what i was getting into when i decided i wanted to date you. i saw your body and didn’t think twice, im so utterly attracted to you if i could contain it, i would. but i don’t because i want you to know how perfect you are.” he left it at a kiss on your lips once more.
“if you dont want to go to the beach we dont have to we can alway find somethi-“ you couldnt stop the rush of emotions that flooded you, all you could do was kiss him letting him know you heard him and wanted to thank him in any way possible.
“oh no, its okay i want to go, i do want to change first before we leave… and i want to wear one of your shirts out.” you said while sitting up to to pick up a bikini set that was a favorite of yours, before you could do anything kai grabbed your wrist while standing up with you.
“before you change, let me show you how beautiful my pretty girl is, yeah?” for someone who just got off practice he has too much energy, but who were you to deny getting dick down by your really hot boyfriend. you nodded letting out a giggle as he guided you to the bed but specifically where the full length mirror (his idea, he got the idea from yeonjun) was in your shared bedroom. he began to peel your mix match bikini set off your perfect body.
he hands felt amazing on your skin, it felt like every insecurity and negative thought has left your body once you kissed him, he continued feeling every inch of your body as you began to tear his clothes off as well not wanting to be the only one on full display.
once his clothes were off, he temporarily broke the kiss while turning you took look in the mirror trying to convince you how unbelievable gorgeous you were to him. “look at my pretty baby” he says in between kisses along your jaw down to your collarbone including everything in between. there was the fluttering feeling in the pit of your stomach, you need friction as you grab kai’s wrist guiding it your clit. to which he gladly obliged. leaving tender swirls while leaving light hickeys on display for his pretty baby to see as a reminder.
once you let out a moan he lead you to the bed letting you sit on his lap, your legs dangling wide open for him while he continues to fiddle with your clit eventually he slipped a finger in while you were so wrapped up in the pleasure. leaving open mouth kisses on your lips he’s practically swallowing all the pretty moans you let out not letting any of them go unnoticed. nothing more could be better, your boyfriend finger fucking you in front of a mirror to make sure you know that how incredibly attractive you are to him. and if that didn’t convince you, when you moan his name you could feel hyuka harden against your back, feeling the precum leak all over your ass— it was a filthy scene but you both loved every part of it. he kept adding fingers one at a time making sure you were fully prepped for his dick, but your pretty little body was being stretched perfectly to kai’s liking.
ever since you started having sex with kai, it took him a while to understand that he actually did have a big dick, it took you guys a bit to figure out how to take him all in, but that never stopped him and you never complained because it always ended up with you cumming multiple times just on his hands alone. kai kept working his fingers into your warm gummy walls while simultaneously rubbing your clit with his thumb, as your back arched against hyuka’s broad chest, he pulled your body closer to him, increasing his speed on your clit to which he earned several whimpers from you as you reach for the back of his neck— tugging on his hair earning a broken set of groans from your boyfriend.
you neared your climax, your muscles began to flutter and kai immediately pulled his fingers out and began to rub your already your already sensitive clit.
“kai its too much p-please.” you tried grabbing his hand to slow down his movement but he pulled your hands away letting him have you just how he wanted to.
“oh baby i know you can take it, you just keep your eyes on that mirror, or your not gonna be coming at all.” with his spare hand he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as he caressed your cheek still rubbing your clit with an intense speed that was building a knot in your tummy that needed a be released but with kai he would always help you finish but only on his terms (nah this man is so down bad, he’d do anything you say)
“come on doll i know you want to let go, cum for me babydoll” he held your legs open, he knew every inch and curve of your body. there was no trick that he didn’t know that could get you going, he knew how to work you up— finding all your sweet spots, leaving tender kisses in the crook of your neck letting you ride out the high of his fingers. you raised your hips to meet his pace, rubbing your hips at the same rhythm he was— making you crumble in his arms.
before you knew it you felt the wet release and before you could do anything kai reached for your throat pulling you into a kiss so passionate that you felt the air from your lungs disappear, the wet patch on your guys bed was completely disregarded in the moment. after what felt like forever you pulled away from kai’s hungry lips.
“k-kai please fuck me already, i cant wait anymore.” the desperation in your voice had kai in shambles, there was nothing more he wanted then to fuck the living daylight out of you. (his words not mine) and with kai being the most amazing boyfriend ever he did exactly as you said, easily he pulled you up to put you on all fours in front of the mirror. pushing your hair to one side making a makeshift ponytail before positioning his hips against yours, earning a familiar whine the longer he waits. he teased your entrance with his tip only swiping it across ever so slightly before shoving it in inch by inch. your back began to arch trying to shove all of him as you can but still trying to adjust to his length and girth. (BIG DICK HYUKA AGENDA)
“look at you pretty girl, taking my cock so well” he rubbed your waist easing you further down his length, while slightly tugging on your hair wanting more control of your body.
“silly to think its only half way.” as he reaches his hand over to your tummy feeling the bulge form from his cock bullying your cervix. you eventually feel utterly filled from kai that you start drooping your head down to the bed, but kai didnt like that one bit. he lifted the makeshift ponytail to guide you to look at the mirror.
“you are going to watch yourself cum on my dick alright pretty?” he says while starting to pump in snd out as you bobble your head towards the mirror as hyuka kept a steady pace.
“words pretty girl, you will cum right?” kai tsk as you mutter out a broken yes as you continue to keep bouncing back in pace with kai’s rhythm. your eyes never left the constant jiggle of your ass but not only that but your whole body, the movement felt as heavenly as it looked, you could see the way kai just admired everything about it not just because he’s fucking your hole but his hands are everywhere his hands have access to, feeling every bit of you he could. wanting nothing more than to see you cum happily on his cock.
“ngh hueningg i-im gonna cum fuck” you said as he pressed on, helping you ride our your high as his length kisses your cervix leaving no room whatsoever.
“fuck doll youre so hot and bothered, don’t think i can take you out on a date like this. who needs to go to the beach anyways.” kai rubbed your back before gripping onto your hips at an ungodly pace. he couldnt care less if you guys didnt go to the beach, he had his own little paradise and it was right in between your legs, your fluttering mess was enough to satisfy him to the full extent.
you shake your head “n-no baby i still want to go hgn-“ you tried to keep up with kai’s insane pace but the words kept disappearing as soon as kai fingers hooked your clit in between his index and middle finger, causing your legs to shake as you finally were able to release.
“my pretty girl wants to go to the beach, tell me why baby?” oh god was he a tease you knew as soon as you came, he wasn’t letting this go. if it’s one thing about kai— he always wants you to communicate. he kept thrusting in and out of you as you manage to some how find the words.
“ngh- the fucking weather i dont know.” you put your hand up to his hips trying to slow down his pace even just a little bit, and to your surprise he held your hand but still continuing his pace.
“yea right, i want to go because i want to make sure everyone knows how hot my girlfriend is… even if i have to fuck her to convince her.” he leaned down to kiss your back and from that alone erupted shivers all over causing you so squirt all over his cock, once again the sheets underneath were long forgotten as kai also came not far along after.
you painted as kai pulled out, tugging you to lay on him as you guys caught your breath, not missing any moments with each other. you turn to look at kai’s fucked out face (and to believe he only came once this was definitely not over) kai never wanted you to feel bad about your appearance ever again, and if he had to convince you ever time, he was willing to reword it any way you needed to understand— you were his and he didn’t want anyone else.
“mmh kai” you say as you rub his bare chest he turns to you as he kisses your nose, “yes baby?” he says barely registering the fact that you are sitting up on his lap, legs on either side of his.
“i think we should go shower and get ready if we ever want to make it to the beach.” you said with a quick smirk, sliding your core against his own, immediately causing him to get up carrying you to the bathroom for another round in the shower before heading out.
nothing beats a beach day with your boyfriend :3
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"𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪." | dark!jackson rippner x reader
(I'm sorry but also no I'm not because wes craven knew exactly what he was doing when he put that line in the movie... he fucking knew...)
𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | after following you for weeks as part of his job, jackson got a few ideas in his head about making you his, but finding out you had a boyfriend meant he needed to change his approach.
𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 | just under 9k (wow what the actual fuck)
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | DARK NONCON SMUT (18+ only, don't keep reading if you're not physically or emotionally mature enough to manage your own content consumption please and thank you), knife kink, stalking, forced exhibitionism, forced infidelity, humiliation, vaginal and anal sex (whoops), pain kink/painal, ass to pussy (god this fic is disgusting lmao), hair pulling, brief breeding kink/forced breeding, some angst but really it's just filth
once again, this is a dark character being dark and I don't wanna hear y'all acting brand new about it so no hate please. that said, if you do enjoy this (which I very much hope you do) please consider reblogging to support my work :) comments are especially appreciated and literally make me so so happy!!
Following you was just part of the job— and Jackson did not like his job mixing with his personal life.
The problem was, he hadn’t had much of a personal life lately. No time for it; one or two hook-ups, women he met in bars, but that’s it. And believe it or not, he wanted more than that. Nobody would accuse Jackson of being sentimental— not really an attitude you can have when you organize illegal weapons sales and political assassinations— but he wasn’t made of stone. He wanted to be able to share at least part of his life with someone… or, you know, have a nice set of legs waiting for him at home that he could get between every night. Either, or both, would do.
It was an unfortunate coincidence that his realization that he wanted a girlfriend, or at the very least a plaything of his own, came right around the same time that he started to follow you. He was only doing it to pick up on your habits, figure out a way to get to you so he could blackmail you into being his inside man for his next job. It was supposed to be pretty simple: you were a museum events coordinator in charge of an upcoming lecture series which would feature a speech from a Bolivian presidential candidate who was unfortunately unfriendly to cartels. The American government not only endorsed him, but had him under incredibly tight security. This speaking event was going to be a rare chance to get to him in a public space without metal detectors, and Jackson was being compensated generously to ensure your museum would let a few extra attendees in the back.
But see, the Bolivian presidential election was the last thing on Jackson’s mind as he watched you through your window. His eyes drifted all over you, mesmerized by the way you prepared yourself for your day— styling your hair in the mirror, smoothing the wrinkles in your white button-up, pulling those stockings up your thighs…
He caught himself biting his lip and shook it off, straightening up in the driver’s seat of his car; he knew he should probably leave then, beat you to your work and then wander into the museum to feign interest in a few artifacts before striking up a conversation. But he loitered a bit longer, letting himself imagine how quickly he could rip off those clothes you were so thoughtfully dressing yourself with.
Eventually, he managed to pull his attention away from you and start the car, sighing as he tried to remember his plan of attack for ‘accidentally’ meeting you later today.
~
The museum might’ve been interesting, if he wasn’t so distracted by you. He was loitering, hands in his pockets, pretending to look at the paintings and artifacts as he waited for you to be near enough to strike up an innocuous conversation with. Early in the day, he saw you give a tour to a couple considering the museum for a wedding location, but kept his distance— it could be a while before you were available and he didn't want you to notice him yet, or he'd have to justify having been in the museum all day by himself.
For the first time since he’d started this job, Jackson felt slightly nervous to speak to you. It was always a big step, going from following someone to actually approaching them, but usually it didn’t give him any specific emotional reaction. Sure, he might feel a certain amount of pressure to do this correctly lest he blow the whole thing by tipping off his target, but he never was worried something would go wrong. This time, though, he felt his heart picking up every time he glanced at you from across the museum, closer to you than he’d ever been. His palms were even a bit clammy when he saw you walk by and realized this was the moment he needed to strike. God, did he really have a crush? How pathetic… but he couldn’t worry about that now, he was about to lose his chance as you brushed by him quickly.
"Miss?" he got your attention, gently touching your shoulder through your shirt as you passed by; you seemed a little startled by the physicality, yes, but not exactly offended.
"Oh, um— can I help you?" you said. He’d heard you speak before, on the wiretap and all, but it was a little different in person like this— and directed at him.
"I was gonna ask you about this sculpture, if you didn't mind," he explained with a gentle smile.
"Oh, well, one of our dosants would love to talk to you about our collection—" you began, starting to look for the closest staff member designated to help him, but he interrupted.
"So, you don't know anything about the stuff here?"
Your attention moved back to him and you smiled to hide your obvious defensiveness. "No, I do," you assured, "I actually am uniquely equipped to tell you about this sculpture: I studied Incan art specifically during my master's program."
He gave his best 'quietly impressed' face and nodded; he knew he could get you with that, you had kind of a know-it-all thing going on, which he happened to find annoyingly attractive. "Alright, then tell me about it," he challenged.
"Well," you sighed, crossing your arms as you looked at the piece, "we got this one a few years ago, it's actually a ceremonial vessel— there’s the llama head and the bird on this side here, those were both animals with a lot of cultural significance…”
As you pointed out elements of the vessel, he leaned in ostensibly to look at where you were gesturing— but it was all an excuse to get close to you, warm you up to him.
“They would’ve used this to pour essentially a form of beer on the ground,” you continued, “in hopes of increasing the strength of the crops and fertility."
"Fascinating," he smiled at you, and you didn’t back away when he stood closer. Like fish in a barrel. "How old is it?"
"It's estimated to be about four or five hundred years old,” you explained.
"Wow," he nodded, looking at the stone carving behind the glass again. "It's interesting to me that humans have always made art— and always been superstitious. Though I have to be honest, if I was living before the invention of birth control I don't think I'd be praying for fertility."
You smirked a little, and he hoped he hadn't gone too far— but it was fun to look at you and know what you must be thinking about. He could only hope that you were thinking about it with him in mind.
“Jackson, by the way,” he introduced himself, “my name’s Jackson. It feels unfair that you’ve gotta wear the nametag and I get to be anonymous.”
You laughed a little, glancing down at the silver nametag on your blazer and then back up at him. “Fair enough; welcome to our museum, Jackson.”
“So, wait,” he tilted his head, “forgive the late reaction here, but— if you’ve got a master’s degree of that caliber, how’d you end up as an event planner?”
“Well, believe it or not, the position does require historical knowledge,” you explained. “I started in curation, though— just moved to events because I was too cooped up in the back offices… I like meeting new people.”
Although Jackson would never consider himself particularly empathetic, he did think he had a decent sense of people— specifically, when they were lying. And that felt like a lie— a white lie, maybe, but still. A lie you were telling yourself most of all, that this was what you wanted to do. And it wasn’t that he really thought you disliked your job, moreso that his two weeks of following you did not indicate you harbored a strong desire to meet new people. You were a total homebody: rejecting offers to go out for drinks or dinner from friends and coworkers, staying up late watching TV instead of hitting the town or something, shrinking into your room every night and staying there until it was time to go to work again. He’d only seen you leave your house once that first weekend, and it was to pick up groceries— that’s it. No hot date, no concerts… almost no social life at all. Either you stayed late at the museum, or you went home.
And he also found that annoyingly attractive. Jackson, after all, was a workaholic himself; he imagined he would go out and do fun things, if he had the time, but right now nothing sounded better than going home and cuddling up with a sweet girl like you, being lazy couch potatoes together, resting after a long day of espionage, cyberterrorism, actual terrorism, and whatever else his work day got him up to.
….Jesus, when did he get so goddamn sentimental?!
“It certainly seems like a unique job,” Jackson replied.
“Every day’s a little different,” you agreed.
“Sounds like my job,” he snorted, “but I don’t work with other people much— I think it would be more entertaining with other people around. Especially when they can tell me everything there is to know about Incan art.”
“Okay, I don’t know everything,” you backpedaled, not seeming to really notice the larger sentiment of his statement, “but I can certainly hold my own. I like to think we all have something we know a little too much about, and could ramble for ages about.”
“Yeah, I hope so, or we’re just weirdos,” he chuckled. “For me it’s probably cocktails. I’m not an alcoholic or anything— I actually don’t drink that much, just socially, you know— but I have this thing where I can guess anybody’s favorite drink order.”
“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” he smirked, “but hold on, I can’t guess yours until I really get the vibes.”
“Oh,” you nodded, “yeah— vibes, sure.”
“Hmm,” he pondered, narrowing his eyes as he looked you up and down, biting his lip like he was really thinking about it.
Here was the hard part: he really hadn’t seen you go out for drinks this whole time, so he was actually going to have to guess. Of course, the fun part of this game was not actually getting it right— if anything, it worked better when he got corrected. All he really needed was to get you alone long enough to tell you who he really was, what he needed from you, and how he was going to motivate you to do it… but if he could actually seduce you first, that would be a hell of a bonus.
“I’m thinking something a little sweet, not too fruity though,” he thought aloud, “something classic— you have an old soul, I think.”
You seemed to be a little surprised by that analysis, but he figured that meant he was mostly right.
“Your cocktail of choice is, obviously, a sidecar,” he announced.
For a second, he thought he might have got it from the way you smiled, but then you started to laugh. “You were on the right track,” you admitted.
“Damn,” he snapped his fingers in playful frustration. After a pause, he realized, “you’re not gonna tell me?”
“I figured I’d give you another guess,” you explained.
“Or,” Jackson countered, “I could take you out tonight, and you could show me yourself. Your drink order, I mean.”
Alright, that was forward, but he figured he’d been doing well so far. Instead, though, you tensed up a bit, causing Jackson to knit his eyebrows together for a moment. “I would, really, but, I have plans tonight… with my boyfriend,” you said.
He swallowed behind a barely-suppressed frown. Following you for all this time and he hadn’t noticed any boyfriend; were you lying just to get him to back off? You’d seemed so flattered before. “Oh?” Jackson tried to get out in his most neutral voice. “That’s great— is he taking you somewhere nice?
“Even better,” you blinked quickly, a shy smile lifting your face. “He works here at the museum, but he’s been gone almost an entire month to pick up some artifacts from around Eastern Europe… hasn’t even been able to use a phone out there. So he’s promised to come over and give me a first look at everything he got, and apparently he’s brought something just for me, so…”
“That’s sweet,” Jackson replied, willing his nostrils not to twitch. “Nice to know he was thinking of you all the way over there. I travel a lot for my work, actually, and it’s… hard to find somebody loyal these days.”
You nodded in agreement, sighing slightly. “Yeah, it is.”
“I mean, gone for a month, no communication, no reminders of you— just out there surrounded by opportunities and nothing keeping him from them,” Jackson went on. “That’s a lot to get through without at least one drunken encounter.”
You furrowed your brow, looking at him with a sort of grimace. “I… I guess,” you mumbled in reply. “I do have a lot of work to get done so I think I’ll just let you explore,” you decided.
“What if I have more questions about the pieces?” he asked.
“Try reading the little plaque underneath it,” you suggested flatly, already turning and walking away.
Jackson watched to leave for a second before scoffing to himself. Bitch. But it didn’t make a difference anyways: one way or another, he was going to get to you— for the sake of the job, of course. Although this boyfriend character was certainly a spanner in the works of his secondary plan to get you in bed, Jackson had to admit that he was ultimately an advantage for his actual purpose with you: an attachment, something he could exploit to get what he wanted. Do what I say, or he gets hurt.
Of course, he knew he should use that to make you be his inside man for that stupid lecture series— he wasn’t going to get the second half of his payoff until the cartel had their chance to make an example out of the visiting politician. But, as a small smile crept over his face while he walked out of the museum, he realized that he could use his leverage for so much more than that.
~
The door was unlocked when you got home; beaming, you realized it meant that your boyfriend beat you here, and was likely waiting for you just around the corner.
“Babe?” you called out, shutting the door behind you and shirking your purse and blazer to set down on the wooden credenza.
And yes, he was waiting for you around the corner alright, but you gasped in shock and felt your stomach sink when you saw him. He was bound to a chair with zipties, restrained at his wrists and ankles with tape over his mouth, looking a bit roughed up and absolutely terrified.
“Oh my god!” you gasped, running to him, but he oddly seemed to pull away from you as much as he could when you tried to break one of the ties. “What the fuck, what’s— oh my god, are you—?” you rushed, not even knowing where to start and just focusing on freeing him. But he just kept letting out muffled grunts and shaking his head— like he didn’t want you to keep going. Of course, you’d been so shocked by it that you hadn’t even considered why he looked so scared, why he seemed to want you to get away from him: whoever did this was still in the house.
It seemed obvious in retrospect, but it was too late now; you screamed when someone grabbed you, but the sound was muted by a hand over your mouth. “Shh,” a voice beside your ear soothed as a blade pressed to your neck. “Nobody’s going to get hurt if you behave.”
Your boyfriend hung his head defeatedly, and you thought you heard the sound of him crying though it was hard to tell.
“You missed him quite a lot, didn’t you?” the man asked, and you wrinkled your brows together as you wondered how he could’ve known that he was gone for a while. “Left you all alone here, poor thing— probably got all worked up, lonely, needy… like three nights ago, when I saw you through your bedroom window, touching yourself."
Your face burned with humiliation— not even that he saw you doing that, really, but just knowing he'd been watching you for god-knows how long. That made you feel more violated than anything.
“Wanted to help you so bad,” he purred, “but I had to wait. I’m not waiting anymore— you’ve got me feeling pretty fucking impatient these days.”
You kept thinking about what you could do to get him away from you— his feet were just behind yours, you could stomp on his shoe and hope it hurt enough to distract him, or maybe you could wrench your elbow back into his side— but with the knife at your throat, you were afraid that he’d be faster than you if you tried anything. “Please just— don’t hurt me, please,” you begged, whimpering a little, not sure what else to say at a time like this.
“Oh, honey,” he cooed, “you sound so sweet when you’re scared.”
It was the way he said that word: sweet. It reminded you of before, something you’d done your best to forget about all day. Something a little sweet, not too fruity— that weird guy at the museum, he’d said it just like that. “Oh my god,” you breathed, “it’s— it’s you.”
“You remember my name, don’t you?” he smiled.
“Jackson,” you recalled, “you— oh my god—”
“I’m sure you’re a little relieved,” he chuckled, addressing your boyfriend with a grin as you turned your head enough to look up at his semi-familiar face. “She was so into me when we met today at the museum,” Jackson informed him proudly. “You wanted me to fuck you then, didn’t you, baby?”
“No I fucking di—” you began to deny with a sneer, but he quieted you with a finger over your mouth— of course, a finger from the hand still holding the knife, to remind you exactly why you should stop talking.
“Now, try anything, I might just have to hurt you— or, better yet, your shitstain boyfriend over there,” Jackson warned. “I’m just waiting for an excuse to break a few of his fingers. Don’t give me one.”
Swallowing, you shut your eyes for a longer moment— you couldn’t believe this was actually happening, like one of those horrific news articles you read before bed just to torture yourself. Like one of those horror movies guys think are campy and fun but give you the most awful sick feeling because that could really happen. And now it was really happening, and your first thought was somehow to wonder what you did wrong to let this happen.
“So, are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked, tilting his head down to look at you questioningly.
You nodded, but he wasn’t satisfied.
“Say it.”
“Yes,” you answered quickly, and he snarled with frustration.
“No, baby, say it like I said it,” he insisted, his tone a warning not to test him again.
“I’m gonna be… I’m gonna be a good girl…” you choked out.
“Whose good girl?” he taunted, and you groaned as you shut your eyes, feeling him pull you closer to him and press his face close to yours.
“Yours! Your good girl,” you spat out, breath picking up as you heard him purr against your cheek. “Jackson— please, you don’t… you don’t have to do this. Please don’t do this.”
You shivered as the knife pressed against you again and moved from your neck down to your shirt, gently slicing off the top button and exposing a little more of your chest. “Mm, but I want to,” he explained, “wanted you since I first saw you.”
You hated the realization that he likely first saw you quite some time ago, before you ever knew he existed, and that he’d been waiting for this ever since then.
“I think it turns you on, knowing I can do whatever I want to you,” he presumed, cutting off a second button from your shirt.
“Please just go,” you begged, starting to properly cry as his teeth grazed your neck. “You’re right— you can do whatever you want. I can’t stop you. Isn’t that what you wanted to prove? Just… just don’t make me—”
“Make you?” he repeated. “No, no— you wanted me. I could tell. Only thing stopping you was him.”
He pointed towards your boyfriend with the knife in his hand, who looked devastated and horrified to say the least.
“You could do better, by the way,” Jackson informed you. “You should be with somebody who can really treat you right.”
Another button fell to the floor; your bra was visible now, baby pink lace, and your nipples hardened from the cool air on your skin— that, and the way Jackson’s breath fanned across the nape of your neck.
“Are you getting wet for me, baby?” he whispered to you as his knife trailed delicately over your skin, tracing the curve of your breasts. “Think it’s time for me to finally give you what you need?”
You took a deep, but shaky, breath as you tried to put on a brave face and brace for what was to come. “My… my bedroom is upstairs,” you whispered, and Jackson laughed in a way that made your skin crawl.
“Oh, eager already,” he taunted.
“I just wanna get this over with,” you insisted.
“Sure,” he said facetiously with a mischievous smirk and a wink to match; you felt like you were gonna be sick. “But bedrooms are a little, you know… basic? That’s probably what you’re used to, real traditional stuff: missionary, in the bed, in the dark, for a few minutes on weekends only. That’s the vibe I’m getting, at least. You’re not used to being with somebody romantic— you know, spontaneous.”
He turned you around to face him, making you yelp a little as he spoke by your ear.
“Somebody who just has to have you; right here, right now,” he cooed, running his tongue along the outside of your ear before suddenly kissing roughly along your neck.
“N-no, please,” you begged, imagining the humiliation you were in store for if he really did fuck you on your living room floor in front of the man you loved. “Please, I— I said I’ll be good for you, just— take me to my room, please.”
"No, baby,” Jackson purred as he held your chin, “let’s show your little boyfriend here what you look like when a real man fucks you, huh?"
Whining, you jerked your arms forward to try to break away, but it only ensured the bruises his fingers would leave on your skin.
A second later, you were shoved to the ground, and he was on top of you wearing a wide grin. You could hear your boyfriend kicking and screaming in the corner, but your attention was more focused on Jackson starting to open his belt.
"Fuck! Get the fuck off of me!" you yelped, kicking and shoving as hard as you could and finding each one more helpless than the last. "You— you fucking piece of shit!"
He smacked you across the face only to pull it back harshly by the jaw, glaring into your eyes. "Better be careful with that dirty mouth," he warned, shoving two fingers between your lips until you gagged on them. "Don't need to wash that out with soap, do we?"
As you choked, you shook your head, hoping it would be enough of an apology to get you some air.
"How about come?" he joked, making you gag for more than one reason, and he laughed at the tears that rolled down your temples.
He took his fingers out of your mouth and reached down to his fly again, letting out a small satisfied sigh as he freed himself. You sobbed a little when you accidentally caught a glimpse of his erection in his hand; he grunted when you tried to push him off again, and responded by grabbing both your wrists and pinning them down above your head. He hummed as he stroked himself a bit, looking down at you trapped under him.
“Thought you said you were gonna be good for me,” he recalled, chuckling when you bit your shaking lip. “You sure you don’t need me to hurt Romeo over there, give you a little motivation?”
You shook your head. “No— I’m sorry, I’ll do what you say. Don’t hurt him.”
“Open your legs,” he ordered.
Hesitantly, you lifted your legs up a bit and spread them, cringing at the happy groan you heard when your skirt started to roll up your thighs.
“Don’t move your hands,” he warned before he let go of them, leaning back and looking down at you: spread out under him, his for the taking.
He snapped off the last few buttons of your shirt, humming when your torso was exposed further. His hand started at your neck and ran down to grope your chest through the lacy bra; he purred, pinching your hardened nipples until you were forced to react.
Pulling it down, he took a quick breath at the sight of your bare tits— his chest rising and falling— and he set his knife aside to knead them both with a hum. "Been thinking about these for a while…" he mumbled. You gasped when he leaned down and captured a nipple in his mouth, suckling with a wide mouth as you scrunched your nose and looked away. Still, it made your insides pulse when he swirled his tongue around, only to pop off a second later and move to the other. "Damn," he breathed, leaning back again to move his attention lower.
Starting at your knees, he rubbed your legs carefully, moving a little higher every time until he was gripping needily at your thighs; his own breathing was a little faster as he did it.
You hadn't exactly imagined how this would be, obviously, but you still were surprised at how long he was taking. Was he just trying to build up the anticipation to scare you? Or was it for his own benefit?
He was gentle for just a few seconds before suddenly flaring his nostrils and ripping your stockings open. Through the new hole in the fabric, he rubbed your panties and you bit down on your tongue to avoid crying any harder.
“Fuck,” he breathed, then laughed, as he pet your cunt through the lace— they matched your bra, of course. Your boyfriend was coming back from a long trip, you’d wanted to do something nice for him… that idea backfired completely. “All dressed up, matching and everything… you’re too good to me, babydoll.”
You were about to correct him, make sure both of them knew that this had nothing to do with Jackson, but your open mouth only let out a gasp when Jackson pulled your panties aside to touch you.
“Oh, baby,” he groaned when he slid two fingers between your lips. “So wet. Fuck. When’d you get like that, huh? Hmm, it was the knife, wasn’t it?”
He looked over at your boyfriend and gave him a terribly smug look while he slipped a finger inside your hole.
“Women like a sense of danger,” he informed the tied man flatly. “But… I think your girl likes it even more than most.”
You flexed on his finger, turning his attention back to you, and he licked his lips as he slipped another finger in until you winced.
“That’s too much for you already, baby?” he noticed. “Fuck, I might break you…”
He curled the fingers inside you, clearly trying to get you warmed up for him, and you shut your eyes tight in hopes your face wouldn’t show any reaction. There was a sense of relief when he stopped and pulled his fingers out, but it didn’t last long since the next thing he did was grab your jaw and press those fingers to your lips.
“Ever tasted yourself before?” he asked, and you tried to turn your face away but it was useless. “Come on, it’s good, I’ll show you.”
He licked his own fingers first, moaning in satisfaction as he did it.
“Fuck, it’s sweet,” he promised. “Now you try it.”
This time, when he put his fingers to your mouth, you opened it and let him push them inside. He slid them over your tongue, watching you with dark eyes.
“Suck them,” he instructed you quietly, almost a whisper, and though your cheeks burned you wrapped your lips around his fingers and hollowed your cheeks. “Mm, that’s it— see, you can be a good girl. Knew you could.”
You were panting a little, for some reason, when he took his fingers away, leaving your mouth slack and wet. He brought his hands down to his fly to finish freeing his cock, and you looked up, to the side, basically anywhere but at… that.
“Look at it,” he encouraged you, and you shook your head. “Don’t you wanna see it before I put it inside you?”
You figured you could get him to shut up if you just did it, so you went ahead and took a glance down at his erection in his hand, only for a terrified whimper to catch in your throat.
“I can tell what you’re thinking,” he grinned. “Trying to remember the last time you had a dick this big, right?”
Trying to figure out how that’s supposed to fit.
“Get on your hands and knees for me,” he demanded suddenly, sitting back enough to get you room to do it.
You hesitated, and he suddenly looked angry as he grabbed your wrist and yanked you up a bit until you yelped.
“Go on! Hands and fucking knees, did I stutter?” he ordered, louder.
You were a little sore and weak all over, and it became even more apparent when you awkwardly got up off the floor; you avoided your boyfriend’s gaze as you took the position, opting to just stare down at the rug under you instead, suddenly fascinated by every detail in hopes it could somehow distract you from this. From the feeling of him delicately pushing your skirt up over your ass and his hands all over you, from the way he pushed your knees apart with his own and settled between them, from the sick drop in your stomach as his cock’s head rubbed over your clit and lined up to your opening. Yes, it sure was a riveting pattern on this rug alright…
But, of course, Jackson wouldn’t let you get through this that easily. “Beg for it,” you heard his firm voice from behind you.
“Jackson, come on, I—” you choked, “I— just—”
“It’s okay, babydoll, go on…” he egged you on, as if shyness was the reason you were hesitating.
“Please…” you began, shutting your eyes tightly. “Please fuck me.”
You tried not to react too much when he pushed inside, but it was big, and he himself let out a husky groan at the feeling as he filled you. You managed to stay silent at first, but a little squeak came out halfway through, and it turned into a loud sigh when he was all the way inside. “Fuck,” he breathed, dropping his head back with a breathy laugh. “Fuck, it’s tight. Guess that’s what happens when nobody’s here to treat you right— and I don’t just mean because he was out of town. I can tell nobody’s given you what you need in a long time…”
Before you could wonder what could possibly make him capable of telling that, he took a tight hold of your hips and began to fuck you— slower than you expected, but not quite delicate.
Shaking, you tried to keep yourself propped up on your wobbly arms as he set his pace, and tried to keep yourself quiet while he did this. The last thing he needed was any more reasons to think you liked this.
Still, you couldn’t fight the whimper that came when he suddenly slammed himself into you, rougher than before; your thighs even quivered for a moment. “Fuck,” you choked out, under your breath, and he hummed back at you as he sped up a little.
“Not too deep, is it?” he asked, though it didn’t seem like he was actually concerned for your well-being (obviously). “Not used to anything this big, huh?”
You were afraid he was going to force you to answer that, but instead he surprised you by putting a hand between your shoulder blades and shoving you down; you gasped and grunted when your chest pressed to the floor, your face thankfully turned to the side against the rug— but unfortunately, it meant you were looking right at your boyfriend. You had to shut your eyes, too ashamed that he was seeing you like this.
“There, you like that better?” he purred as he held your hips up against his, but the new angle only forced him deeper until you were choking on nothing with every thrust. Your hands searched wildly along the floor for something to hold onto, but eventually just had to settle for gripping the rug for dear life. “Mm, fuck, s’good— you feel so fucking good, baby…”
The compliment sent an unwilling shiver up your spine, and your back arched even deeper than he’d forced it to. It was too much, it was all far too much, but your toes were curling inside your (ruined) pantyhose and you bit down on your lip without thinking about it.
“Oh, see how much she likes it?” Jackson grunted, apparently still addressing the captive boyfriend in the chair— you really wished he would just leave him out of this. “Fuck, what a pretty little whore…”
Not only could he switch from sickly-sweet to rageful in a moment, but you realized that he could somehow seem to be both at once. Still spitting out praises and insults all at one, he fucked you rougher and meaner as your moans— pain or pleasure, you couldn’t tell anymore and you didn’t want to— grew louder. He kept getting more aggressive— harder and faster, harder and faster— until you were all but screaming and you couldn’t keep your hips up anymore. Each thrust pushed you down until you were flat against the floor, but he kept fucking you and holding the back of your neck. One thrust seemed to go too deep suddenly, and you yelped as you reached back to try to grab his thigh out of instinct.
“Shh, shh, s’okay, baby,” he assured with a hiss. “Fuck.”
But he kept doing it, kept fucking you deep (if a little slower) as you whined and shook under him. “Jackson,” you heard yourself breathe, “please— I-I can’t—”
“God,” he growled, “say my name again. That’s so hot.”
You hadn’t meant it like that, but now it was too late. “N-no,” you tried to deny, but that didn’t last long as he grabbed you by the hair and forced your head up, laying over you enough to speak right against your ear.
“Say. My fucking. Name,” he spat.
“Jackson,” you choked out against the strain on your throat from having your neck cranked back like this. “Jackson, f-fuck—”
He groaned and dropped your head, propping himself up so he could fuck you faster again; his gaze moved down to where his body filled yours, where each thrust made your ass bounce under torn pantyhose…
As he slowed down for a moment, panting, you wondered if maybe it was almost over— maybe it already was, but that seemed too good to be true. He was still holding you down just as hard, anyway; he put his whole weight on your arms as he turned to look at your boyfriend tied up in the chair.
"Does she do anal?" Jackson asked him point-blank.
Your struggle renewed as you screamed angrily— but you couldn't keep it up, it fell into a helpless sob a moment later. Your boyfriend didn't give much of an answer— couldn't, really, on account of the duct tape— just kicked around against his restraints again.
Jackson shrugged as he looked down at you crying under him. "Well, you do now," he decided, pulling out and spitting into his hand.
You’d never felt so helpless, laying there on the floor while he pushed his fat tip up to your puckered hole. “Please,” you begged for mercy, but you didn’t even have the energy to lift your head from the rug and it was all muffled and pathetic.
“It’s really not that bad,” he insisted as he started to press forward, but your whole body jumped and you let out a loud whine when his head slipped inside with a sort of pop— all that pressure giving way to a sick, stinging stretch.
“Oh my god oh my god,” you whimpered, feeling goosebumps break out all over your body from the sharp pain. “I can’t— please, I really can’t—”
“Shh, it’s okay, I’m gonna go real slow,” he promised under his breath, moaning loudly as he pushed in a little deeper. Laying on the floor like this, there was really nowhere for you to go, no way to run from the feeling. “Just breathe, long slow breaths— focus on staying relaxed.”
Frustratingly, it was actually pretty good advice; it certainly didn’t make it painless, but when you shut your eyes and thought as much about breathing and as little about anything else as you could, it helped.
“See? Just relax, babydoll,” he whispered, but relaxing could only do so much as he slid the rest of the way in and you felt like your whole body might go numb. Your eyes rolled back, your insides (all of them, it seemed) flexed, your heart was pounding… you felt sick, and disgusting, and used.
He breathed heavy as he laid his weight on top of you, slipping an arm under you to wrap around your shoulders and neck.
"Fuck, that's a tight fuckin' ass," he grunted, laughing a little as he glanced at your boyfriend, slowly beginning to move again. "This one's got you spoiled, huh? How'd a loser like you get your hands on a perfect fucktoy like this?"
He bit down on the shell of your ear as he picked up his pace quickly— way too quickly— and soon he was growling each time he slammed his hips against your ass. You couldn’t even tell what noises you were making anymore…
"But you're gonna be mine now," he whispered to you. "Oh fuck, s'all gonna be mine. Gonna fill these pretty holes of yours every fuckin' day."
You dropped your head down defeatedly onto the floor, though shocks of pain were still making your fingers and toes curl while he roughly fucked your other hole.
“Yeah, fuck, you fuckin’ like it,” he snarled as he fucked you faster. “Needy little slut. You like getting all your holes filled, huh?”
You simply bit down on your lip, not realizing it wasn't a rhetorical question.
"Answer me," he insisted.
"I-I don't like it," you said— quietly, because if you spoke any louder it would've been mostly unintelligible with sobs.
"Huh?" he taunted, leaning in closer.
"It hurts, Jackson," you choked, pleading.
“No?” he noticed, feigning shock with heavy sarcasm in his tone. “Are you saying you don’t like it up the ass?”
“Please, please,” you choked out, “fuckin’ hurts— god, please, hurts—”
"You don't like it, sweetheart?" he cooed at you, cloying condescension dripping from every word as he roughly pet the hair out of your face. You whined and shook your head. "Well, I could always put it back in your cunt, would that make you feel better?"
He chuckled at your grimace of disgust.
"Is that too dirty for you?" he wondered, clicking his tongue. "Aw, it's okay, just gonna give you what you wanted— hold still, baby."
You winced when he pulled out of your ass, only to whine as he slid back into your cunt; you hid your face, feeling how absurdly warm it had become from all this, and tried not to think about how dehumanizing what he had just done to you was.
He picked his pace right back up when he entered you, letting out a deep groan of satisfaction. "Oh my god you're fucking dripping, is that from being fucked in your little ass?" he noticed. "Jesus Christ, wettest fucking pussy I ever had... somebody likes it dirty, hm?"
You wanted to deny it, but he wasn’t lying about your physical reaction; you were soaking, and you didn’t even know why. It wasn’t like you found much pleasure in that experience physically, it was rather agonizing— and then there was the thought of it, of knowing you’d been used that way, and it just made you feel dizzy and weird. Regardless, it was true… your body responded even when your mind was running in circles convincing itself there was nothing enjoyable about this.
“Such a pretty thing,” Jackson purred at you as he sped up again, shaking your whole body against the floor— that arm around your shoulders was the only thing keeping you from being pushed away, and he held you tightly like he really was worried you’d get away somehow, even though you’d stopped resisting quite a while ago.
At least it didn’t hurt anymore— except that you were still a little sore, and he was holding you too tight and his weight made it hard to breathe, and you were probably going to get rug burn, and you felt disgusting. But in a literal sense, it hurt less.
“Think I need to turn you over and get a good look at that pretty face,” he decided, pulling out of you and rolling you onto your back. Maybe it was just because you knew it was only for a moment, but being empty wasn’t as much of a relief as you expected. You were pretty much limp by this point, letting him turn you over and simply looking up at him blankly. “Oh,” he said as he smiled proudly, “look how fucked out you look— and I’m not even done with you yet.”
Lifting your legs and pressing them against your chest, he slid back in until he was deeper than you thought possible, and you gasped and shivered helplessly. “F-fuck, wait—“
He started to fuck into you quickly, and you nearly screamed, reaching down to try to hold his thigh or push him back or something to keep him from going so far inside you, but nothing deterred him. For how drained you were a moment ago, the shock of this gave you renewed energy, and you hated feeling your walls bear down on him in sick, overwhelming pleasure. “Oh god,” he moaned, “so fucking good.”
As hard as you were trying not to be loud, your efforts were lost when he reached down and roughly rubbed at your swollen clit; again, you tried to reach to stop him, holding onto his wrist and pushing his hand away with all your strength, but he bested you easily and kept going. “Fuck!” you screamed. “Please, please— it’s too much, I—”
“It’s okay, baby,” he soothed, watching proudly as your back arched and your head tilted back with a gasp.
You hadn’t even realized you were building to an orgasm— you would’ve sworn you weren’t, before, but now you felt all sensitive and sticky, and his thumb on your clit was relentless, and the shivers that had been running all over you all evening were turning into hard, heavy jolts of— of something. Something you’d been holding back longer than you realized. Something you hadn’t felt in much, much longer than three weeks.
“It’s okay,” he kept encouraging you with a proud grin that turned into a growl through his teeth as he fucked you harder. “Show him what it looks like when you’re not faking it, babydoll. Show him who you really belong to now.”
“Please,” you cried, the word barely spoken and more just a shape you made around your cries. If he didn’t stop now, you wouldn’t be able to, either; you were spasming uncontrollably, inside and out, it was just getting worse and worse (or better and better, depending on how you looked at it).
It felt fucking good. You would die before you admitted it, but you didn’t have to— it was obvious. And it was overtaking everything now, even your shame, until for one impossible moment, you were completely shameless. You weren’t sure you had ever felt quite like that before— not just physically, but spiritually. Shameless. Even though all you’d felt until now was ashamed. “Good girl,” Jackson praised you, though it was sort of lost on you as you were coming down from a high that hit you hard enough to not even feel real until it was nearly over.
It was like time had slowed down, and then snapped back to superspeed, to hyperreality, when he finally pulled his hand away and let you have a small reprieve.
"Fuck, I'm gonna come, oh my god," he gasped, his voice getting oddly high-pitched as he said it. "Want me to come inside, babydoll, or paint that pretty face?"
“Not… not inside,” you warned, just conscious enough to remember that.
“Mm? Why not?” he smirked.
You were still blinking away the blurriness in your vision, panting, trying to process all that you’d just felt— so you really didn’t have any energy for stupid questions like that. “What?” you just asked groggily. “Why… why do you think?!”
He just laughed briefly— more like a hum— and kept going. Of course, you should’ve known he’d do it once he realized your boyfriend didn’t; but wasn’t it enough that you and your boyfriend used condoms and Jackson had already gone past that?
“Just— just don’t,” you begged again, shut up with a firm hand over your mouth suddenly as he grunted lowly above you with each thrust.
“Fuck,” he said, a sort of warning though it wasn’t specific. “Fuck!”
He bit his lip when it happened; you shut your eyes, not wanting to see his face all slack and flushed like that with his hair falling forward and his neck and jaw flexing. But closing your eyes only made the feeling inside you more undeniable: the rush of warmth, the flexing against your walls as he pushed himself in as deep as he could. You whimpered a little, though you weren’t sure it was audible to anyone but yourself, and Jackson sighed as he emptied himself into you.
He took his hand away with a deep breath, and all you did was let your mouth fall open and your eyes blink numbly— what else was there to do?
As he caught his breath, he laughed a little, very softly; he put his hands on the floor beside your head, propping himself up but letting his head hang down loosely for a second— he was still smiling.
“You’re… you’re really something else, you know that, babydoll?” he informed you.
You didn’t say anything, and he sighed again just before he pulled out— you both winced, for different reasons, and he took a moment to hold your legs open so he could look at what he’d done to you; you felt filthy and exposed like that, but you were too weak to try to stop him or even to close your legs.
“Now that’s just beautiful,” he decided in reaction to whatever he saw; you didn’t want to picture it, how stretched out and used up you must look, but you could feel his come oozing out, running down.
Some of the numbness was already wearing off, at least physically, and you were beginning to realize how purely un-ergonomic it was to get fucked on the floor. Your back and shoulders were sore, your legs were tight when you finally got to lay them down again after being held up for so long… you tried not to imagine how long you’d be feeling the effects of this, wearing bruises and feeling knots and having to know exactly where they came from.
“Come on,” he mumbled as he lifted up your limp upper body, pulling you closer to him. He held your face for a second, petting your cheek which was still a bit clammy with sweat. “Kiss me,” he demanded, though he said it somewhat softly; you didn’t actually sit up and do it for him, but you let him press his lips to yours and you tried your best to half-heartedly mirror his movements as he did it.
He held your head and neck more firmly and slid his tongue into the kiss, making you whimper a little but that was the end of your protest. You thought it was a little strange that he wanted to kiss you now, but maybe it was just a matter of claiming you in the final way since he’d pretty much covered all the others.
When he broke away, he brushed his thumb over your cheek and smiled at you sweetly.
It’s over, you told yourself, hoping to feel more relieved. It’s over, he’s finally done with you. You did it. It’s over. But as those words repeated in your mind, you only felt emptier than ever.
“Look at your boy over there,” Jackson mumbled beside your ear, a smirk on his lips as he shook you a bit with the arm around you. “You see it, don’t you? He looks different now.”
You dared to glance at your captive boyfriend, who you realized you hadn’t heard muffled protests from in quite some time. His eyes were bloodshot and swollen, but dark, too; his stare was heavy and piercing. You suddenly felt sick.
“He looks at you different now.”
You bit down on your lip as it started to shake; you felt worse than ever with him looking at you like that. Things hadn’t been perfect before he left— nothing’s ever perfect— but they were good, and easy, and now you felt like he hated you. But what had you done wrong? All you’d done was try to keep him unharmed by appeasing this awful, horrible person…
Jackson had already been speaking quietly, but he dropped his voice down to whisper as he rubbed your shoulder. “I don’t think he’ll look at you the same way ever again,” he posited, and you swallowed as your stomach dropped.
“I don’t… I don’t understand,” you whispered under your breath.
“He’s never seen you like that before,” Jackson explained, “and he understands now that he can’t do for you what I can.”
Jackson brought his hand to his own chest as he said that, but then reached up to wipe up another tear that rolled down your cheek. “Please,” you said, looking at your boyfriend though he wouldn’t meet your gaze, “don’t— don’t think that I— it’s not my fault! I didn’t want this to happen!”
“Shh, you don’t have to lie anymore,” Jackson cooed at you, “we’ve all seen the truth now, it’s alright.”
You were exhausted, you were devastated, you were too overwhelmed to even feel terrified anymore; you dropped your head onto Jackson’s shoulder defeatedly. After all you’d been through tonight, you were starting to lose track of what was real anymore.
He let you cry quietly against him for a while, petting your head, until finally breaking the silence. “Now, the thing is, there’s actually just… one more thing I need you to do for me,” he admitted, and you started to cry harder again.
“Please— please, I did everything you asked,” you sputtered out through your tears, “you took. Everything. From me.”
“Hold on, that’s not true,” he frowned, “you’ve still got your cuck boyfriend over there, even if he’s not quite what he used to be— you still love him, don’t you? Can’t help that?”
“O-of course I do,” you insisted, feeling oddly guilty as you said it.
“So, you don’t want me to hurt him?”
Even if this was the end— even if he would hold what was done to you against you, which would break your heart— you couldn’t have that on your conscience. You shook your head.
“I didn’t think so,” Jackson nodded, “you’re too sweet for that. I won’t hurt him, and I’ll let him go, if you promise to do what I ask you to.”
“What more… what more could you possibly want…” you breathed, shaking your head, trying not to imagine what else there was for him to do to you.
“Something a lot less fun than what I wanted before,” he smirked. “What I need from you now is purely work-related.”
You wrinkled your brows together with a sniffle as you began to slowly compose yourself. “Work…?”
“Let me tell you a little bit more about what I do for a living…”
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