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basicinstnct · 2 years

Text

arrangement / jacob custos

word count: 2967

tags: size kink, love bites, hurt/comfort, angst, morning wood (more accurately nap wood), referenced masturbation, pining, insecurity, creampies, slight breeding kink, transfer of affection (sorta), savior complex

a/n: personally, i found this guy pretty endearing, especially if you look at his insecurities which are more apparent in some routes than they are in others. i know that isn't exactly a popular opinion (it's certainly a bit frustrating that the writers set him up by making him largely "responsible" for the events to follow), but hopefully there are enough like-minded people to give this some attention.

It’s often said that what you fear, you attract. You’re a little more receptive to that type of loose philosophy than you should be, so you aren’t exactly surprised when one day, the words come true.

Jacob’s voice calls out your name, soft, unlike him. “Are you awake?”

You’re glad you’re facing the wall. It gives you a chance against him, to not let him into your arms again. Other than pretending you’re asleep, there’s really no way out. Now that all the kids are gone, and the counselor you were supposed to share it with never showed up, you have the cabin all to yourself. Thinking about him had already kept you up all night, so you really just want to take a nap before you have to load the van up, not… this.

Seeing his face, those sad eyes, will end your resistance where it stands.

What the two of you have isn’t good. Against your intentions you’ve become at best a therapist, and at worst a replacement. Who you're taking the place of is unclear. At first you thought it was Emma. It wasn’t far-fetched to believe that you were covering for something that clearly wasn’t working. You were so sure, but more time with Jacob has left you doubting that. It has to be something in his past, something that happened a long time ago, inflicted by someone that you remind him of in one way or another. Being a proxy probably hurts him as much as it helps him, and you’re not exactly sure what it does to you.

What have you become? You’re not exactly the other woman. As far as you know, nothing’s really happened between Jacob and Emma in a long time, enough time that there’s a chance those flames have been swept out. You can see how Jacob’s affections burn hard against the cool of Emma’s practically nonexistent feelings.

You’ve let him, at least half a dozen times, come to be consoled by you. It began when he ran into you as you were heading down to the lake, one night when you couldn’t catch a wink of rest. When you later asked why he thought he could trust you, he didn’t have much to say.

You’ve let Jacob speak to you, cry to you. He mostly talks about nothing in particular, but if he nods off against your shoulder, he’ll mumble troubled, troubled words that make your heart pang. Lost thoughts about being alone, unwanted.

He has a lot of problems.

Around everyone else he can pretend he’s fine. You can learn as much from the truth as you can from a lie, but only if you’re looking.

He says your name again, in the midst of you faking a breath. You snuggle deeper into the thin fleece that Mr. Hackett gave you, trying to give the appearance of being slightly disturbed but not awoken. Something about the situation is giving you a feeling. You shouldn’t do this!

You can hardly think of anything at all when you hear his footsteps. He approaches your bunk cautiously, before you hear the creak in the floorboards and the movement of fingers. He tosses his shoes to the corner of the room. Then his sweats and shirt go too. You’re squeezing your eyes shut even though you desperately want to look at him. If not to admire his looks than to read the expression on his face.

When he lifts the blanket from your body. You’re so shocked by the action that you can’t even fight it, the way you shiver all over. Jacob climbs into bed and wraps his arm around you. You can feel the warmth of his body, his furnace-like chest against your back as his head rests against your shoulder.

Without him, you run cold naturally, especially when you sleep. Now that he’s in bed with you, you’re worried the temperature of his body will make you sweat.

“I know you’re awake. You can tell me to go,” he says weakly. “I’ll go.”

“I never want you to go, Jacob, even if I feel like you should.” You can’t hold back the reply. Logic fails you around him, at least when you’re alone.

If your words are vague, he still knows what you mean. He rewards you, you think, by gripping you tighter, murmuring thank you before pressing the lightest of kisses against your neck. You get the sense that he’s used to it, getting affection through transactions. He can’t give you much out here except his body heat, and he has more than enough of that for the both of you.

You’re expecting the regular dialogue when he takes a deep breath, like he usually does, but that’s not what you hear at all.

“I feel totally useless today,” Jacob says, “all I can think about is how nothing ever goes right. I feel like everyone is just tolerating me. I’d just wanted the day to end so I could come here and be with you. Even if you wouldn’t be caught dead speaking to me when the others are around. Then I remembered that we were leaving today…”

Maybe that is how things appear to him. With all the complications between the group, the crushes and the grievances, you’ve always thought you’re better off not adding whatever’s going on between the two of you to the mix. You’ve always acted like nothing had changed around the others, and he’d followed your lead. You didn’t think he had any problem with it.

All at once you realize how deep your concern for him goes. Has he wanted for something he felt you weren’t prepared to offer? You wonder how he’s felt every time you’ve paired up with someone else, if there’s ever been a hurt glance you missed. A jealous glance.

You still can’t look at him, but your hand searches for his, and when you find it you squeeze gently. It’s not natural for you, but it’s worth it to hear the way he gasps, like he really can’t believe it.

“It’s never been like that,” you tell him, “I just don’t want things to be awkward. Even if we aren��t usually… I don’t want things to change. I never knew how you felt either.”

He huffs, long and hard (listening for once) and you shake lightly as you feel it on your skin.

“I hope I haven’t been making you feel bad.” You sigh, “I wasn’t even thinking about it like that. Sometimes,” you were worried this would be a blow to his already lacking confidence, rather than anything constructive, “I don’t like the way you act around everyone. Like you have something to prove.”

“I… I feel like I do.”

“I think you think you do, but I think everyone else just feels like you aren’t being yourself. Some people,” you don’t want to say her name, “they can smell the blood in the water.”

“You haven’t been making me feel bad,” he murmurs, mouth close to your ear, “I love the way I feel. Around you, right now.”

You know there’s a chance he doesn’t mean anything by it, that he’s emotional and vulnerable and confused. Desire and confusion could sometimes be the same thing. But when he says things like this, as he has before, you can’t help but think about what it would be like.

You’ve certainly done more than just think. One hand down your shorts and your face buried in the fleece, the scent of him still on it, the smell of his cologne and his sweat. You’d put your palm to clit as you slid a finger inside, thinking of the outline of his cock the one chance you’d had to see him in it.

Down at the lake, a day of swimming, he’d had a swimsuit you swore hadn’t fit him since middle school. It was the definition of tight in all the right places.

Fat, was really all you were able to process. You’d blushed incredibly hard, swimming in the opposite direction before anyone had a chance to notice. The image filed away for later use.

Him, holding you down, slipping inside. The sting of it, of him making you take him. The sounds he would make when he was all the way in, balls against your clit. Teeth on your skin to muffle his moans.

It’d seemed like a pipe dream. Now you weren’t sure. In any case you hadn’t wanted to be fucked so bad, by anybody, in your life.

You flip over to face Jacob, staring deep into his eyes for the first time today. They’re misty, red, and they seem very sad. The whole thing makes you feel like a bad person, like a pervert. You wonder if he can see how black your eyes are with want for him. Can he feel how wet you are, right here next to him?

“Let’s go to sleep…” You venture, not meaning it at all, still glad that he agrees when he shifts to get comfortable and you feel his breathing even out. It’s far too long before you fall asleep yourself, too lost in visions of everything you want.

You know you’ll regret it later, that you’ll be nodding off when you shouldn’t be, but you can’t stop thinking.

. . .

You wake up thinking something troubling. You wish you could make Jacob understand. You don’t always need to get your happiness from people, but you know you only really mean other people. You’d have no problem being a rock for him. You want to give him a way out of the feelings that drown him every day. It’s what he so desperately seems to need.

But it can’t keep going on this way.

He must wake up moments after you do. Possibly aware of the change in your breathing, or maybe the way your heart rate has increased tenfold. He sighs, before chuckling in your ear, “what’s got you so worked up?”

“I just wanted to make sure I hadn’t overslept,” you look at the clock on your dresser. It’s only been half an hour. “Didn’t want to hold everyone up.”

It’s him, of course, but you can’t exactly say that. At least he seems in higher spirits than before, you consider.

The meaning becomes too literal when you feel his cock against you. Morning wood, probably. As much as it makes you wish the sheets would swallow you, it also sends your mind to other places.

Jacob tries to freeze, but his arm is still over your hips, caging you with his body, so there’s little you can do other than ignore it. But that already seems impossible, you can start to feel desire, burning in your pussy. You want him

It’s easy to feel him moving, attempting to be discreet but failing entirely. Every inch moves you with him because he’s unwilling to let go of you, whether he realizes it or not.

“I don’t mind,” you whisper, “or care. I mean I don’t care.”

“I care,” he bites back, seeming insulted. “I know you see that, so stop pretending like you don’t.”

You try to turn in his arms, but Jacob holds you still with little effort. He’s stronger, you think, obviously. You’re never able to escape him, mentally or physically.

“You think my problem is being insecure, fine. Your problem is that you’re always thinking, you never just feel.”

You know he’s right, but what can you say to that?

What was once a tight grip on your wrist turns into a comforting gesture, his thumb rubbing gently over the skin of your hand.

“L-let me make you feel something,” he sighs, “for once.”

You sigh, defeated in the best way possible.

Jacob's hard against you still, and he starts grinding into your ass gently. A gasp leaves you before your head is turned and you feel him on your cheek, a sweet kiss, before Jacob’s lips are on yours and he gives you a nasty one.

It’s your first kiss with him, but it doesn’t feel that way. You learn that Jacob likes to be close to you. He knows just how to get you to sigh, open your mouth up so he can press his tongue inside. It gets sloppy fast. You both moan, unable to part until you need to breathe. There’s spit connecting the two of you.

He moves your body beneath his, palm on the back of your neck an oddly comforting pressure. “Should’ve been kissing you this whole time,” he sighs.

“Doesn’t matter,” you tell him, putting your own hand to his cheek, “you have me now. Do whatever you want.”

Jacob makes quick work of your clothes, rids you of your bra, then tugs his trunks down to free his dick.

You want to blush at the sound it makes, the weight smacking against your stomach, lined exactly up with where he’ll be inside. Almost to your naval.

There’s a moment of just breathing, and when you look you see that he’s eyeing the same thing you are.

“I’ll fit,” he groans when he sees your expression. “Promise.”

You lick your lips. “Just prove it.”

Your panties are pulled to the side before you can hear him lick his thumb, once, twice. He must think it’s enough spit because he begins to use it to touch your clit, only to groan so loud you want to muffle him.

“Oh, oh. Fuck you’re already wet.”

“Yes,” you hiss, “I want you.”

“Yeah,” he mumbles. The words seem to make him shake. “Tell me again.”

You walk your hands up his back, and he moans when your nails drag lightly over his muscles, “I want you. Give it to me, Jacob, please.”

He kisses you again. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll give it to you.” It’s mumbled against your mouth as he preps you. Sliding his cock through the folds of you, gathering enough pre from you and him to just get the head inside.

You shudder, and he moans. It’s loud, scaring you enough to slap your hand over his mouth.

“‘’M sorry,” he grunts, removing your hand. His chest lowers down to touch yours, his face in your neck. “I didn’t mean to. Your pussy’s so good,” he shifts his hips to feel more of you. “I’ll be q-quiet, won’t make a sound. I don’t want to stop.”

You wrap your legs around Jacob, practically humping yourself onto him, “c’mon.”

His cock feels bigger than you should be taking. You want to wheeze when he bottoms out, leaving you stuffed. You can feel his tongue on your neck, hear vague moans as your cunt clenches on him.

Jacob starts to rock his hips, keeping his mouth busy with your skin in an effort to keep the noise down. But none of that matters when he’s fucking you into the mattress. Deep thrusts that make the frame of the bed groan.

You can feel how wet you’ve gotten, how wet he’s made you. You wouldn’t be able to take him otherwise. It’s surely all over your thighs, probably dripping down to his balls. You can feel everything, his skin, his mouth, a hint of teeth, the way his dick is burning you up inside.

You shock yourself when you come, hard. You bite into Jacob’s shoulder to muffle your scream, wrapping every limb you have around him to keep him deep inside.

“Fuuck,” he’s trembling. “Fuck it, I need- I wanna come inside. Tell me you’re on the pill. I want it.” You can feel him throbbing in your pussy. It’s a good thing you are; he probably wouldn’t be able to pull out in time anyway.

You hum out an affirmation, teeth still between his flesh because you can’t stop moaning, and it’s only half a second more before you feel him cum, and if you weren’t wet before you are now. You can feel it, hot, inside, and even leaking out of you.

Jacob’s whole body tenses, before every muscle in his body seems to relax, like he’s been needing this for a long, long time. His arms falter, but he catches himself before he crushes you.

The both of you wince when he pulls out, and you’re thankful that he doesn’t mind the obscene amount of cum that you both will surely have to deal with eventually. The clock tells you It’s still early, there’s still time.

He’s gone to cuddling you again, tucking you into the side of his body. He’s certainly much more open to touching you now that he’s fucked you. His hands explore whatever skin they can reach.

You make an attempt to do the same, but when you touch his shoulder you can feel the slight indent of teeth. Not terribly deep, but there.

“I’m sorry, Jacob. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Don’t say that,” he scoffs, totally nonchalant. “Your neck isn’t looking too hot either.”

“I know,” you sigh, “but some guys are really weird about stuff like that.”

“Ha,” he laughs it off, checking it out before giving you his typical grin. “I don’t mind it. It’s like you claimed me.”

You wonder if that’s something to think about.

Laying there, both of you lightly doused with sweat, the smell of sex absolutely unavoidable, your first thought is that your sheets are ruined. It’s a good thing that you’re leaving today, at least for that reason.

Whatever you’ve just done, you know now that you can’t shut Jacob out. How that will work out isn’t something you need to figure out now, or even today.

Despite Jacob’s epiphany concerning you, you’ve got dibs on a great seat in the van, and that should give you enough time to do all the thinking you need.

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