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moonlightspencie · 26 days

Text

darling, i fancy you

Description: James Potter is in his second year of university. He's with his friends, having the time of his life! His only problem... a horrible, evil, beautiful, wonderful girl who doesn't seem to return the feelings he's developing for her. His dramatics and flirtatious antics usually work. He just can't quite figure out how to hook this girl.

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Warnings: drinking, idiots to lovers, reader is described as american in one line because what is fanfiction if not a bit of self-service on occasion

Word Count: 8.2k

Coming into his second year of university was supposed to be fun. He was no longer jittery or nervous about classes since he’d already been there and done that for a full year. Besides, he was James Potter. Of course he had gotten down the routines like they were nothing to him. It was easy as pie. Now, as he brimming with confidence, he was looking forward to seeing old friends, and meeting new ones. It seemed bright and exciting: and it was, so far!

Until his second day.

James walked into his final Thursday afternoon class and sat in a seat near the front. He might enjoy goofing off here and there, but he’d be damned if he was going to do any less than stellar in his classes. The class filled fairly quickly, seats being taken all around him. He barely noticed when a girl sat in the seat next to him as he pulled out a notebook and a pen. Until he turned with a small smile that melted off his face as quickly as it arrived.

“Great,” he grumbled under his breath.

She looked in the direction of the utterance curiously, blissfully unaware that one of the last few open seats, and the one she just had to choose, was right next to James Potter.

“Perfect,” she muttered bitterly, shaking her head. “I suppose you’re going to try to get me to convince my roommate to fall in love with you again, yeah?”

“Not after last time.”

She scoffed a laugh. “Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because you’re selfish and don’t care about the happiness and general wellbeing of others.”

“Right. As if your happiness should be my number one priority,” she rolled her eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

James turned his head to her abruptly, feeling quite put off that she’d say such a thing. Him, insufferable? He thought it might do her some good to do a bit of self reflection, and had told her as much last year. It didn’t do any good, obviously, considering she was still just as irritating as ever.

“She’s dating someone anyway. So you’re out of luck,” she said, seeming quite pleased with herself.

James was annoyed again. “Dating someone? Great. That could’ve been me if you weren’t so horrible, and now I’ve got to wait until they inevitably break up to—”

“She’s dating a girl, so good luck with that plan of yours, Potter.”

James blinked in surprise. He supposed he never exactly saw Lily with a boy before. But… But he liked her so she couldn’t possibly be interested in girls. What a silly notion, he thought.

“You’re sure?”

She stared at him for a moment. “Uh… yeah. Pretty sure.”

James hummed in thought. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know until summer,” she shrugged. “She came out to me shortly before she told me she’d been asked out by her current girlfriend.”

“How odd.”

“Excuse me?” she asked, looking at him with a bewildered expression.

His eyes widened. “No! Not like that. I just… I didn’t realize. I just assumed—”

“Careful how you phrase things, maybe,” she said, looking at him a little suspiciously.

He nodded quickly. “Right.”

He fell silent for a moment. A few blissful seconds that she basked in. Until he opened his mouth again.

“I just…” he said, then sighed. He thought for a couple seconds. “I don’t think I’ve ever not been able to win someone over before. And this seems pretty bleak for me, doesn’t it?”

She snorted a laugh, nodding. “Yeah. More than bleak, I’d say.”

James smiled a little, then internally scolded himself. There was no reason to laugh at a joke a girl like her made. How terrible. He was better than that. He straightened in his seat, determined to ignore her now that he really had no use for her with his precious Lily too far out of reach for even him to pull in, all things considered. He pouted for a bit, feeling terribly sorry for himself as the class started. He took his notes, of course, but not without sighing every five minutes or so.

“Can you cut that out?”

James looked offended again, glancing at the girl.

“Cut what out?” he whispered back.

“The constant sighing. It’s irritating.”

“I’m upset.”

She rolled her eyes, going back to taking notes. He fell silent, but only for a few seconds.

“You try finding out the girl you’re in love with is gay.”

“For me, that would actually work out.”

James rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Get over it,” she said after a beat.

He glared at her, then went back to his notes. Again, really only for a few seconds.

“Wait. Are you gay, too?”

“So what if I am? That’s not really your business, is it?”

“I— Maybe not. But I’m curious,” James said, looking at her.

“Stop talking.”

“I just wanna know.”

“You sound like a child,” she sighed, exasperated. “You’re distracting me.”

James gave her one more sour look before turning back to his notes. He was feeling quite annoyed now. Maybe it wasn’t necessarily ‘his business’ what her sexuality was, but he couldn’t help but be curious. Why was that his fault? He couldn’t quite figure it out. He waited until the class ended this time to turn to her again.

“I don’t mean to intrude—”

“I’m sure you will, though,” she stated.

James sighed. “You’re so difficult. I’m only curious. I don’t mean anything by it.”

She huffed a breath, then looked at him straight on. He raised his brows in question, hoping she might answer if he tried looking innocent enough. She shook her head.

“It’s a bit of a rude question, you know?”

“How?” he asked, feeling a little offended.

“It’s personal.”

“Well I—“ James started to argue, though his voice died. His eye twitched slightly as he thought about it for a few seconds. “Okay. I guess… I guess that makes sense. I just thought it was, like, knowing your hair color or something like that.”

“Personally, it’s something I usually only discuss with my friends. Not with a strange boy who I’ve only spoken to when he decided he liked my roommate.”

“That’s mean.”

“We aren’t friends.”

“It’s still mean,” James said, standing up with his bag.

She did the same.

“It’s honest.”

James pouted a little. “I’m only trying to make conversation.”

She looked at him for a moment, and he looked right back, his hand on the strap of his bag. He quirked a brow when she was silent for a second.

“I’ll see you around,” she said at last, not unkindly, but definitely not in a friendly manner.

Of course, James had to relay this ridiculous interaction to his roommates when he got back to his flat. He sprawled out on the couch, his hand flipping off the side to touch the floor and his cheek pressed against the cushions.

“She’s evil. There’s something in her that isn’t right. I’m sure of it.”

Sirius furrowed his brow. He’d been hearing about James’s plights with this woman since last year. It always seemed that his buttons got pushed so easily by her, and Sirius couldn’t help but wonder how on earth James kept getting himself into these situations

He sighed softly, leaning back into the armchair to the left of James, a hand running through his long, dark hair before settling over his face.

“You’ve been dramatic plenty of times before, Prongs, but this might be a new height you’ve climbed to,” Sirius said, his voice slightly muffled through his hand.

“Mm. Not quite evil to keep that sort of thing to yourself. I don’t run around campus advertising that I’m queer,” Remus added, walking into the living room with a cup of tea.

Remus settled on the ground near Sirius’s chair, leaning his back into the arm of it as he stretched his long legs out. He did plan on doing so on the couch, but it seemed that James had beaten him to it with his dramatics.

“That’s not what I mean,” James groans. “It’s how she acted. I don’t care if she keeps that to herself, but she didn’t have to be so mean to me. It’s like she delights in making me feel stupid.”

Peter laughed from the chair across the way from Sirius’s. “It’s not always hard to do.”

James scowled at the boy, but before he could say something back, Sirius sighed loudly.

“James. Just back off of the girl.”

James turned to Sirius. “What do you mean?”

“If you ignore her, she’ll ignore you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because she probably finds you just as irritating as you find her,” Remus says pointedly.

“You guys are supposed to be on my side,” James says.

His friends all exchange a look, then stare back at him.

Sirius leans forward on his chair to come to eye-level with James.

“James. You are like a brother to me. I love you dearly. But leave the poor girl alone before she hits you.”

James buried his face in the couch cushion and groaned loudly in protest. Maybe they were right, but he didn’t have to like it. He knew he was being dramatic and probably a bit annoying, but he couldn’t help it. He hadn’t met someone who got under his skin so easily in a long time, and he didn’t like it. After a few minutes, he lifted his head, looking at his friends. He didn’t like to upset them, and he was afraid if he kept this up, that he might do just that.

“You guys want to go get dinner on me?” he offered.

They smiled, Sirius in particular shaking his head at his friend in amusement. James felt a little better then as he scrambled off the couch.

James’s first encounter with the girl of his dreams, who he begrudgingly accepted no longer could be, happened a few days later. He walked into a café just off of campus to get a little fuel for his first essay of the semester when he saw a familiar head of red hair. His first instinct, of course, was to rush her with a smile and that classic Potter-charm of his… but then he deflated.

There she was: the wretched girl who had stolen his dear Lily from him. He looked sour for a moment, then sighed, shrugging it off internally. He supposed that he couldn’t really be mad since he wasn’t also a girl, so Lily wouldn’t like him no matter what.

But if he was, he was determined he’d be very upset about the whole ordeal.

He sat down at a table across the small coffee shop, inadvertently staring at Lily and her girlfriend. He had to admit: the girl she was dating was very pretty. And they did seem happy together. But it was still a little bit annoying. He hardly paid attention to someone approaching with his drink until he heard an unfortunately-familiar voice.

“I would tell you that a picture would last longer, but I don’t think I can condone borderline-stalking my roommate,” the girl said, setting his latte down in front of him.

He looked up at her in a bit of surprise. She just seemed to pop up everywhere.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

She looked down at her apron, then back at him with a puzzled expression.

“I— I work here?” she stated, shaking her head a bit. “Thought you may have gathered that from me bringing you your drink and wearing an apron.”

He deadpanned, unamused. “I just didn’t expect to see you here is all. It’s like you’re everywhere.”

“It’s been like a week and half and we’ve seen each other twice,” she said, huffing a breath at his dramatics. “Anyway. Is there anything else you need, besides maybe a magazine or a blindfold?”

“Why would I need those?” he asked, immediately annoyed.

She pointedly looked at Lily and her girlfriend, then back at James. He made a face of realization, then chuckled a little despite his better judgment.

“Oh. No. I’ll stop staring, I’m just…”

She paused waiting for him to finish, but it didn’t seem like he was going to. She nodded slowly after a beat.

“Well… it’s been a pleasure as always.”

James nodded, but then he leaned forward to grab her wrist. “Wait.”

She turned around, giving him a look that told him to let go immediately.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, dropping her wrist. “Just wanted to ask if you got that western civilization assignment done for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Tomorrow is Tuesday.”

He raised a brow. “Yeah. It’s a Tuesday-Thursday class.”

She paused, looking a little lost. “What?”

“It’s on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. The assignment is supposed to be done for tomorrow’s class.”

“You’re joking.”

James shook his head. “No. Why would I be?”

“Shit,” she sighed heavily, throwing her head back. “How hard is it to do?”

“Not hard, but it took some time.”

She groaned. “God, I feel so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid. Just forgetful, obviously,” James laughed.

She did not look amused. “Right. Well… Fuck. Thanks for the heads up, then.”

James looked quite pleased with himself. He actually got a ‘thank you’ out of her. He nodded quickly.

“What would you do without me?” he smirked.

She glanced at him, looking somehow even more unimpressed. James didn’t like that look.

“I’d have missed one class. Don’t give yourself too much credit.”

James watched her walk off, feeling annoyed once again. It’s like she couldn’t help but ruin his mood every time they talked. He sipped his latte, and suddenly felt more irritated: this might have been one of the best latte’s he’d ever had, and she just had to work there. Great.

He kept his eyes on the girl as she walked back behind the counter, getting started on whatever task came next for her. She seemed to be making some kind of drink. He watched her as she flitted around back there easily, taking note of the way she’d occasionally scrunch her nose in a weak attempt to adjust her glasses as her hands were full. He took in every detail of her outfit that he could see from the other side of the counter: a simple black t-shirt and jeans that looked annoyingly good on her. Like it wasn’t enough to be irritating all the time, she had to be pretty, too. How was he supposed to just ignore her completely? He scoffed to himself at Sirius’s stupid advice as he sipped at his drink again.

That same thought snuck into his head as she walked into class the next day, dropping into that same seat right next to him. He took note of her slightly messy hair, and the crewneck sweatshirt that hung on her a little loosely. He looked at her nails as she pulled out her laptop, smiling a little at the baby blue that was painted on them. He liked blue quite a lot. He was in the middle of looking at the minimal makeup on her face, especially the gloss on her lips, when she just had to interrupt him.

“What are you doing?” she asked, looking at him as if he’d grown a second head.

“None of your business,” he replied quite defensively.

“You’re staring at me. It feels like my business, Potter.”

He rolled his eyes. Why did she always have to be so difficult? It’s like she had fun making him feel like an idiot.

“I wasn’t staring. I was observing.”

She sighed, softly, shaking her head as she went back about her business, logging into her laptop. He tried really hard to remember what Sirius had told him and just ignore her as well as he could, but it wasn’t exactly his fault that she had a photo of herself and some guy on her computer.

“I thought you were gay?” he said curiously.

She turned her head to him slowly, and if he thought she looked at him like he was stupid before, it was nothing compared to how she looked now.

“What?”

“I thought you said you were gay,” he clarified, though it made nothing clearer for her. He pointed at her laptop background, “but, there’s a boy with you on your computer.”

“I never said I was gay. I said it wasn’t your business if I was or not.”

“But you must not be if you have a boyfriend.”

“Ugh,” she groaned. “That’s my brother, nosey. And I’m not gay.”

“Thought you said that wasn’t my business?”

“I’m going to slap you.”

“That’s what Sirius said,” James replied, though it was mostly to himself.

She snorted once. “Your friends are telling you you’re gonna get hit by someone?”

“By you,” he corrected.

Now, this piqued her interest. She looked at him curiously.

“Your friends tell you that I am going to slap you? Why?”

“I told them we don’t really get along. Sirius thinks I should just ignore you.”

“You’re doing a shit job of it,” she laughed a little.

He wanted to be annoyed, but he couldn’t help but smile a bit back at her. She had a nice laugh. He thought to himself that maybe he’d like to hear it more. It would certainly be better than the grating sound of her always being annoyed with him.

“Can’t help it if I’m curious.”

“You can help if you’re peering over my shoulder at my personal laptop.”

“I’d hardly call it peering. Plus you have a large screen, it’s easy to see.”

She cracked another small smile against her better judgment, and decided on ignoring him the rest of the class. It didn’t work. At all.

“So…” James started up when the professor decided on padding the rest of the class time with an ‘opportunity’ to get a headstart on the next assignment. “Did you end up finishing that assignment that was due today.”

“Clearly.”

James furrowed his brow. “Huh? How is that clear?”

“I’m a mess. I look like I just rolled out of bed, because I practically did in order to finish the assignment today before the rest of my classes. I haven’t even been in my apartment since like eight this morning.”

James still looked on in a bit of confusion, glancing over at her again, taking in her appearance. Sure, she wasn’t extremely put together, but she still looked pretty. James, ever the one to speak exactly what’s on his mind, decided on telling her that.

“I think you look really pretty today.”

She swallowed once, looking at him in a moment of mild shock. She usually wasn’t one to clam up around anyone, but she certainly was now, and James took notice.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything…”

“No. No, it isn’t that. I just…” she trailed off, then shook her head. “Nevermind. Just… work on your assignment. It’s what we’re meant to be doing anyways.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry,” James nodded, feeling a little bad now that he’d apparently made her uncomfortable.

Though, as much as it was a sense of discomfort that she felt at his compliment, there was also much more to it. Not that she would ever tell him that. No, it was much worse than the normal annoyance she felt for the boy when he looked her up and down and gave her that sweet smile. It was terrible and evil and made her face a bit warm. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, his cheek smushed in his hand nearly making her smile being all the more evidence: she was developing a crush on James Potter.

James was in the process of waking up on a cold Saturday morning in early October. Usually he’d be able to pull himself out of bed somewhat easily, only really needing a good shower to get his blood pumping for the day ahead. The ‘process’ part came into play as a rare, true hangover made him feel both dizzy and like a rock stuck in bed.

He wasn’t a stranger to a late night of drinking with his friends, or a party here and there while he was at school. Even in his highschool days, he would sometimes sneak out from under his parents’ watchful eyes with Sirius to go live it up for a night. But it rarely resulted in an actual hangover. Sometimes a headache, occasionally he’d throw up before bed, but this? This was hell on earth. He was convinced. It certainly didn’t help that he hardly remembered past drink number seven the night prior. He decided on not letting the frat boys fill his cup anymore.

After an hour of laying in bed, he finally decided that it might be time to at least try to join the world of the living. He rolled off of his mattress, shuffling into the bathroom to take a cool shower. He effectively did as much, only having to bend over the toilet bowl to empty his stomach twice! He was quite proud of himself for that, considering he felt nauseous the entirety of the shower. He stumbled back into his room, haphazardly drying off his body and hair before slipping into a sweater, jeans, and a warm coat. He slipped on his boots, grabbed his keys, and walked out the front door. He thought that maybe his favorite cafe would have something to lift his spirits and fill his now-empty stomach. He also thought that maybe a certain girl might be working. That would definitely lift his spirits.

He walked into the cafe around 11am, finding it surprisingly empty for a Saturday afternoon. He had started making a habit of visiting the place probably more often than he needed to. He knew the usual flow at this point.

He frowned when his favorite table was taken, and ended up dropping into a seat near the back by a window after he had ordered. He sat his order number marker on the table, and waited for a familiar face to show. He started to smile when he saw his coffee and a chocolate pastry being set in front of him, but it dropped as he looked up to see a less familiar man. He thanked him anyway, despite the fact that he was quite disappointed. He picked at his pastry, and sipped his drink, letting the carbs and caffeine make him feel a bit like a human being again after such a rough night. He decided to stick around for a while after he finished both, just sitting and thinking. He always liked being alone with his thoughts, but they seemed to flow a little better with the hum of something in the background. A cafe full of people did the trick for the day. After an hour or so of staring out the window, he decided he could use another cup of coffee.

He went to wait to order behind a small line of people, fiddling on his phone until he was finally called up to order next. A smile grew on his face when he saw who was taking orders now.

“Hi!” he said to her cheerily.

“Oh. James. Hi,” she said, a little surprised to see him. “What can I get you?”

“You weren’t here earlier. I got here a little past 11, and some guy brought me my drink.”

“Yeah. I just got in at 12. So… what do you want to drink?”

James ignored her question with another smile. “How long are you working today? Don’t you normally come in earlier?”

“Five hour shift today,” she said with a small sigh. “I just didn’t start early this time.”

“Oh. Well, it’s good you’re here now. I’d have hated to admit that I might have missed you when I saw you in class on Tuesday.”

She fought a smile at that, determined to remain irritated at him.

“Are you going to order? You’re kind of holding up the line.”

“Right!” he exclaimed suddenly, looking up at the menu as if he didn’t get the same thing every time.

“Do you just want your usual?”

James stilled at that. She knew his normal order? He smiled a bit to himself, trying not to seem too delighted at that fact. But he shook his head quickly, even though that’s exactly what he planned on getting.

“What’s your favorite drink?”

“I like the lavender oatmilk latte.”

“Lavender? In coffee?” He made a sour face.

“James,” she said, somewhat shortly as he dawdled.

“I’ll have one of those, then.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. But if it’s gross, I’m blaming you.”

She smirked a little as she shook her head, typing in the order.

“Alright. It’s in,” she said, nodding to the side for him to get out of the way.

“But I didn’t pay.”

“It’s on me,” she replied. But, she continued before he could think it was too sweet, “It’ll get you out of the way faster.”

He nodded, giving her a thanks with a shy smile. He went back to his seat, expecting that same wretched boy to come back out instead of her with his drink. Though it certainly took a long time for him to do so. Just as James was looking over his shoulder to see what was taking so long, he saw that same familiar face coming towards him with a mug of coffee. He smiled up at her as she set down the mug.

“I thought you were on the register.”

“I was.”

“But you just had to come see me, right?”

She scoffed a laugh, rolling her eyes. “Enough out of you. I came to ask about the test on Tuesday.”

“Oh?” he asked, looking down into the coffee she brought. It didn’t look gross, at the very least, but he still wasn’t sure about lavender in his coffee.

“I can’t find my notes from two weeks ago anywhere. Do you think I could borrow yours by any chance?”

“You want to borrow my notes?”

“You can be an idiot sometimes, but you’re not stupid. Unfortunately, you are actually really smart under that…” she gestures vaguely at him. “You know. Your whole vibe.”

“Hey!” he exclaimed, pouting a little.

“It’s a compliment.”

“Still mean. I thought you Americans were supposed to be nice.”

“I think you’re thinking of Canada, but I mean it in a nice way.”

He huffed a small sigh, tilting his head as he looked up at her. She tried not to look at him for too long, sure she’d start grinning for real this time. Why did he have to be so handsome? And so annoying. And ridiculously charming. She merely quirked a brow at his silent tantrum, waiting for him to speak again.

“I guess. You can have my notes, but you have to come get them from me at my apartment.”

“You can’t just email them to me?”

He smiled. “Nope. I take ‘em on paper. You can come get them.”

“It would be easier to take a photo of them.”

“I want my roommates to have to meet the girl who hates me so much anyways. They’ve been dying to properly see you without me having to point you out across campus.”

“You talk about me a lot?” she asks with a little smirk, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Enough,” he smiles at her brightly. “Come on. Just humor me.”

“I don’t have your address,” she argued weakly.

He laughed a bit at that. God, she was adorable when she was being difficult.

“Give me your phone, then.”

“What for?”

“I’m going to put my address in. And my phone number so I don’t always have to try to catch you here or in class when I want to talk to you.”

“Who says I want to talk to you?”

“I think you secretly like me.”

“I think you’re annoying.”

“I think you secretly like me, even though I’m annoying. You’re trying to tell me I’m not a delight to be around?”

She sighed softly, clinging hard onto that small sliver of irritation, even if it didn’t do much good against the boy. She pulled out her phone, unlocking it and handing it over to him. She watched as he typed in all his information, and even took a cheesy little selfie for his contact photo.

“No, no, no…” she said, trying to take her phone back when he started messaging himself.

He put out his arm with a giddy grin, blocking her from getting the phone back as he continued on his path with the other hand.

“How else was I meant to get your number?” he giggled, hitting send and handing the device back to her. “Just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be the only one with the option to contact me. If you were the only one of us who could text, we’d never get the ball rolling on a proper friendship.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be your friend,” she snorted once, pocketing her phone again. “You’re a nuisance.”

“I’ll see you tonight then, right?” He ignored her poor insult. “To get the notes, I mean.”

She fell quiet for a moment before begrudgingly nodding. “Yeah. I’ll see you then. When will you be home?”

“For you? All day.”

She rolled her eyes again, but she couldn’t help but fight a warmth in her cheeks as she turned to get back to work.

As it turned out, much like she was suspecting, letting James put his number in her phone, and consequently exchanging numbers, was a horrific idea. It seemed that every time she went to check her phone, even if it was the middle of the night, he had something to say. Whether it be an actual message or just a strange meme he found online, he was constantly sending her texts. She was convinced he was testing out a kind of exposure therapy. That maybe, in his head, if he kept bugging her all hours of the day she would learn not to act so annoyed by him. To his merit, he was mostly right. But it helped that she was harboring a secret crush on him to begin with.

James, on the other hand, was getting non-stop reprimands from his friends. Every time he pulled his phone out and started typing, they’d groan in annoyance, knowing exactly who he was trying to talk to.

“Mate, you’ve got to lay off the poor girl,” Remus grumbled softly, his head dropping onto the back of the couch when he clocked James texting her in the middle of a movie night with the boys.

“I just thought she might think this movie is good. I’m recommending it,” James shrugged a little, still typing away.

“She probably doesn’t care,” Peter said casually.

“Shut up, Pete,” James huffed, setting his phone down. Though he left it up to make sure he’d see exactly when she texted back. “It’s funny. She likes funny stuff.”

“You’ve got it bad, Prongs,” Sirius shook his head as he came back into the living room from his brief excursion to the bathroom. Remus pulled him right back into his lap as he came out, hugging him tightly.

James looked at them, making a disgusted face and groaning.

“You guys aren’t allowed to talk about me when you’re always clinging onto each other like that.”

“You’re just jealous,” Sirius smirked.

“Maybe I am! I have to watch you two cuddling all the time, all in love. It’s sickening,” James crossed his arms as he looked back at the television. “I shouldn’t have to watch that and hear about how I shouldn’t text a girl I fancy.”

Remus and Sirius shared a look. Remus then set his sights on James with a raised brow.

“So you fancy her now, do you?”

“Shut up.”

“Just saying,” Remus chuckled. “When we started the school year you said she was evil. Now you fancy her.”

“She is evil. She doesn’t like me back,” James sighed dramatically, slumping in his seat. “I don’t get it. Girls loved me in high school. Then all of a sudden we’re at uni, and the first girl I like turns out to be a lesbian and the second one thinks I’m annoying.”

“Poor boy,” Sirius cooed at his dear friend jokingly. “You’ll find one soon. Maybe she just isn’t the one for you.”

“But I want her to be! It isn’t fair. She probably doesn’t like English boys at all. I bet that’s what it is.”

“What?” Remus asked incredulously.

“She’s from the States. I bet she only likes, like… farmers or surfers or something stupid.”

That earned a laugh from his friends, brushing off his dramatics as usual. James merely pouted to himself as he watched the movie until his phone buzzed next to him. He grabbed it like his life depended on it when he saw who the notification was from, smiling like a giddy child as he read the message.

“alright. thanks for the rec, I’ll check it out :)”

He giggled a little to himself. “She sent me a smiley face! You guys think that actually made her smile? I bet it did.”

His friends merely sighed, ignoring him again since he wouldn’t have listened to their response anyways as he typed away.

“Maybe we could watch it together some time! I think my friends would really like you. They didn’t get to know you well enough last time they saw you since it was only a couple of minutes. You should come over!! :)”

He sent the message, but as soon as the excitement calmed down a smidge, he sent another message.

“If you want to, of course. I don’t want to pressure you. But I do want to hang out with you. I think you’ll like me if you decided to stop hating me lol”

“Sorry, that sounded weird”

“I just mean that we could be good friends, I think. You’re funny and cool, and I’m also funny and cool. It’s like we’re made for each other haha!”

“I don’t mean it like that. You know what I mean, yeah?”

“Fuck, mate, you writing a novel over there?” Sirius laughed with wide eyes, looking at the phone in James’s hands.

“I keep fucking up and sending weird stuff,” he groaned. “Trying to do damage control.”

“Not much damage control to do when she already talks to you in person,” Sirius retorts with a smirk.

“Shove off, Pads.”

His phone buzzed again.

“right lol. maybe sometime? do you plan on talking through the whole thing though? you tend to be a motormouth, you know lmao”

He let out a breath of relief, smiling to himself again when he saw that he didn’t screw things too badly.

“I’ll be quiet during all the important parts at least. Promise!”

He waited for a moment, staring at the screen as a little text bubble popped up almost immediately.

“maybe then, yeah. i’ll let you know next time i’m getting too happy with my peace and quiet. or the next time lils and her girlfriend are making out in front of me again”

He laughed softly, ignoring the looks he was getting from the others as he texted the girl. They were all in happy relationships, they certainly were not allowed to judge him for being excited to be speaking to somebody cute.

“Might not be much better with Sirius and Remus here, but misery loves company, right?”

“Those are two of my mates you met when you picked up those notes a while back, btw. In case you forgot their names.”

“They’re dating now.”

He waited patiently, not even paying an ounce of attention to the movie still playing. Besides, if he was going to watch it with her again some time soon, who cares if he missed a bit of it?

“good for them, they’re probably super cute together. but yeah, i’ll text you next time then”

James smiled brightly.

“Great!!! I’m looking forward to it! We can order dinner and everything.”

“But not like a date.”

“Unless you wanted it to be lol. Just kidding. We don’t have to do that.”

“But I’ll still buy dinner so you don’t go hungry.”

He waited again as the speech bottle popped up, and frowned a little when it went away. Then, there was a little heart on the first message he sent about ordering in, which, to him, felt like everything.

She was surprised with herself when she was all nerves before going to see James and his friends for that promised movie night. Though, she quickly realized that was incredibly silly.

As she got to know James’s friends, she kind of started understanding why he talked so highly of them. She adored them, and thought it was pretty funny that they always seemed a little bit lovingly exasperated with his antics. She couldn’t help but wonder if that’s how she’d start feeling about him, or if that bothersome crush would never fade into a casual friendship.

The answer seemed to come after Sirius and Remus ran off together after dinner, and Peter left to go hang out with his girlfriend. She didn't expect to find herself opening up to the Potter boy so easily about her past, nor for him to become so serious and thoughtful when talking about his own.

She really didn’t expect for herself to say yes to hanging out with him again. And again. And again.

It’s like he somehow found his way under her skin. She knew he was capable of such a thing from how he was easily able to bug her from their first meeting. It was exasperation at first sight. But the way he charmed his way into her heart was an entirely new kind of annoying. He was all boyish smiles, silly stories, and dramatism… and it was fucking endearing.

But their tipping point came in March.

Much to her chagrin, they had become close friends. They spent a lot of time together, and not just in the classroom or at work. She’d become friends with his friends, and James had become friends with Lily and Marlene after he finally accepted that Lily really wouldn’t ever like him. Though, realistically, he was pretty much over that the second he realized he had feelings for someone else. That slightly-grumpy, highly caffeinated, lovely, hilarious, complaining, sweet, smart, ridiculously difficult angel of a girl.

The girl that made him embarrass himself in front of a party full of people.

He stood with Peter and his girlfriend at a table, chatting as they started sipping on freshly made drinks. James was, admittedly, probably a few too many in. But he couldn’t always exercise impeccable self-control, he decided. So, he stood there, staring at the girl from across the room as she danced with Lily’s girlfriend Marlene with a smile on his face.

“You look ridiculous staring at her like that, mate,” Peter said to James, nudging him lightly.

“I don’t know what you mean,” James snorted, pulling his eyes away from her to smirk at his friend. “Besides, I can stare at my girl all I want.”

“Only she isn’t your girl, James,” Peter reminded him.

“I’d like her to be,” James sighed dreamily, turning his head to look at her again. But this time, a frown overtook his face.

She was now being tapped on the shoulder by some tall, terribly handsome looking guy. James’s stomach lurched a little at the sight. What did this guy think he was doing?

He looked on for a moment as the two talked, growing more and more frustrated. He knew they weren’t together, but that was still his girl. He knew he had to take immediate action. This couldn’t just slide without consequence. James looked around the room almost frantically, trying to figure it out. How could he get all her attention on him instead of that stupid dude hanging off her shoulder?

Aha!

He pushed his cup into Peter’s hand, ignoring his friend questioning what on earth he was doing. He walked, though it was more of a drunken stumble, to the nearest table, clambering up on top of it. He cleared his throat, looking around as more and more people started looking up at him in confusion. Perfect! An audience.

He called her name over the crowd, looking at her intently until she turned to him with wide eyes, shrugging off the other guy that was still trying to get an arm around her. He smiled brightly, though she looked less than amused, shaking her head a little at him.

“I want everyone in this room, and… and everyone forever, everywhere, to know something. I am so, stupidly, madly…” he stopped as he stumbled a little, his foot slipping off of the table’s edge in front of him. “Shit!”

He crashed to the floor, scraping his hand on something on the table as he tried to stop himself from landing too hard on the ground. He winced, both from the tumble to the ground and the pain in his hand. What the hell was so sharp on that table?

“Ow,” he muttered, not even trying to get up yet, rubbing his head a little as he felt quite dizzy.

“James!”

He squinted up with a small, pained smile as her saccharine voice reached his ears as she came rushing over. He groaned a little when she dropped on her knees in front of him, trying to look at his hand. It was bleeding a little bit.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” she mumbled, but he still noticed the worry in her eyes. It made him feel good.

“I’m drunk.”

“Clearly,” she sighed softly, then stood, reaching for his opposite hand. “Come on. Let’s go get you home.”

“I didn’t finish what I wanted–”

“You need to get to bed. You’re a mess, Jamie.”

He smiled a little more at that little nickname. He loved it when she called him that. He agreed instantly to her at that point. How could he say no?

“Okay. Lead the way, mama.”

“...Don’t call me that.”

“Mm,” he shrugged, letting her help him stand up. He hung off of her, practically using her as a human crutch. “You’re so sweet to me.”

She stayed quiet, trying to bring him out of the room of people either staring or laughing at him. It was a miracle she got him home, but she did after a lengthy battle against the sidewalks and stairs. She sat him on his bed, making him stay put as she went to get disinfectant and a bandage for his hand.

He blinked slowly, looking after her with a dopey smile as she left and returned. She sat in front of him on the bed, taking his hand in hers. He barely whined at all when she cleaned off his hand, muttering something about him being a ‘clumsy, ridiculous cunt’. He thought it was cute how she could take care of him so well while still insulting him for being an absolute idiot. He reasoned that at least he would be her idiot.

“Sorry, love,” he mumbled when she finished up with his hand. “But you’re awfully good at this stuff. Maybe I got hurt on purpose just so you’d take care of me.”

“No, you didn’t,” she said, practically force-feeding him some water.

He swallowed. “No, I didn’t. But I could have. I like it like this.”

“You like having your hand all fucked up, and a room full of people laughing at you?”

“I like you sitting with me like this. Giving me alllll your attention,” he giggled. “Besides, you’re really pretty when you’re concentrating. I don’t mind getting hurt if it means you’ll do that silly little thing where your tongue sticks out a bit when you’re focusing.”

“You need to go to sleep,” she said softly, fighting a smile.

“But I didn’t finish what I was gonna say on the table.”

“Too late.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“Too bad.”

He whined. “Please? That douchebag who was all over you is gonna go right back to it if you go back to the party.”

“I’m not going back to the party. And what do you even mean? What guy?”

“The one who was on you when I got up on the table,” he pouted.

She quirked a brow. “I don’t even know that guy.”

“That’s worse! He’s gonna steal you away!” James exclaimed. “That isn’t fair. I had you first.”

She swallowed once, looking at him curiously. “What?”

“I don’t like boys looking at you or… or touching you or talking to you or anything. You were mine first. They need to back off,” he said, getting increasingly irritated. “I don’t care if you think I’m annoying or you don’t like me. Doesn’t mean some other boy gets to just… take you.”

“Slow down,” she said, grabbing his arm. “First of all, I do like you, if not evidenced by us becoming friends the past several months. Second… some dude I don’t even know isn’t gonna come along and ‘take me’. That doesn’t even make sense. Besides…”

“It does make sense! You’re so beautiful, and funny, and caring, and really mean but in a way that is super hot…”

“I don’t want to date some random frat boy, James.”

“But they want to date you!”

“Who gives a fuck?”

“I do! I love you! They shouldn’t get to butter you up and take you away from me, it isn’t fair,” he groaned, tossing himself back onto the pillows.

As a result, he didn’t see her mouth drop open at the accidental confession, nor the way her eyes widened as she looked at him.

“You love me?”

“What?”

“You just said you love me.”

James opens his eyes, though he doesn’t look at her. “...no I didn’t.”

“You’re a shit liar, Jamie. I know what I heard.”

He winced a little. “Well… maybe I do. That’s what I was gonna say on the table, anyway.”

“So you’re brave enough to say it in front of a crowd, but you get scared to admit to it one-on-one?” She snorted a laugh.

“It’s easier to not get rejected right away when we’re around other people. Then at least I could figure out your reaction when you were still far away,” he said meekly, finally looking at her.

“You think I’d reject you?”

“Maybe? You kind of hated me when we first met.”

“And now? Who do I spend every waking moment with, dummy?”

“...me?”

She merely raised her brows, opening her hands in an ‘obviously, dumbass’ kind of gesture. He smiled at her.

“So…?” he asked vaguely.

“So… you love me, huh?”

He merely nodded, looking a little sheepish and still pretty drunk. She was thanking her lucky stars that she was still extremely tipsy as well, or else she probably would’ve passed out from nerves.

“What if I said… like, me too?”

His eyes widened. “You too?”

“Yeah.”

“You love me too? Like, also?”

“Yes, like, also,” she laughed. “I’ve honestly had a crush on you since the second day of classes this year.”

“Really?” He smiled brightly. “Ugh, you’re horrible!”

“What?” she scoffed a laugh.

“You are evil! I’ve been saying it since day one. This whole time I thought I was an idiot for liking you so much, and you had a crush on me?”

“To be fair, I really didn’t want to. You were pretty insufferable,” she chuckled, brushing some of his messy hair out of his face.

“Then what changed for me?”

“Nothing. I just started thinking all of your irritating traits were becoming irritatingly adorable.”

“You think I’m adorable?” He giggled to himself.

“Don’t push your luck, Potter.”

“Don’t call me that. I like it better when you call me Jamie.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Makes me all soft and mushy inside.”

“You’re such a sap,” she sighed softly, leaning down over him to kiss his cheek.

He felt his cheeks heat up quickly at the sweet gesture, and even more when she didn’t pull her face away from his. He looked up at her with a soft smile. How could he not have fallen head over heels?

He leaned up slightly, glancing down at her lips before closing his eyes to let her make the first official move. He hoped she’d make that move. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach, and sparks all over his body when he felt her lips meet his for the first time. He smiled into the kiss, unable to stop himself from it.

He kissed her back, though it was admittedly sloppy with the both of them still fairly inebriated, James being even more so. But to him at the very least, it was perfect.

Against his preference, she pulled away. He pouted, as he usually did when he didn’t get as much attention from her as he’d like.

“You have to promise me something,” she said quietly.

His ears perked up. “Anything.”

“We won’t become annoying like Lily and Marls or Sirius and Remus.”

He grinned. “Does that mean you want to date me?”

“God, you’re dense,” she muttered against his lips, kissing him again with no intention of ever stopping.

#london boy mention ‼️#james potter #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter au #james potter college au #james potter fluff #james potter fic #james potter fanfiction #marauders #marauders fluff #marauders fanfiction #marauders au #luna still hates jk

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wildbluesorbit · 5 months

Text

London || JTK

18+MDNI

Paring: asshole!Jakexreader(f)

A/N: ITS FINALLY HERE! I can’t even tell y’all how nervous I am; this is my first fic AND the first smut I’ve ever written. I’m a Third Eye Blind freak and just generally think this song is one of the sexiest songs in existence so naturally I knew I wanted to write this fic. Big big love and thank you’s for my editor @tommie-gvf. I loved writing this so much and didn’t think it could get any better until I saw everyone’s reactions.❤️‍🩹

I ask for your patience as I’m a beginner and am very open to criticism. Pretty please tell me what you think!

Summary || Jake has a lover that lives in London. He visits her every time he’s in town, but recently the simmering situationship has taken a toxic turn.

Content Warnings || swearing, alcohol consumption, party setting, toxic relationship, jealousy, over possession, verbal aggression, slight physical aggression, big angst, graphic sexual depictions

Kink Content || dom(m) and sub(f) shift, [semi] public sex, dirty talk; praise & [public] degradation, sadism, zelophilia, katoptronophilia, daddy kink, slight impact play, nipple play, dry humping, hand job, ejaculation(f), oral sex(f receiving), penetrational sex

Word Count || 8.3k+

*disclaimer - I have no idea how to write any European, reader’s origin is up for interpretation*

You continue to refresh your phone screen in hopes that it will load a new message or maybe even reveal a glitch.

“You know,” your best friend, Claire, aspires to tempt you back to reality, “that guy hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since we got here, right?”

A hum in acknowledgment of her bait is the only thing your split attention will allow as you proceed in refreshing your messages. Even going as far to restart your phone.

“He's kind of cute,” you return another hum as she sings further, “like really cute.”

“Go on then, have a go,” you try to push her self-assigned matchmaking duties back on her.

You have no choice but to be shoved back into the rumbustious surroundings of the overpopulated flat party as your phone is suddenly ripped from your hands. Claire raises it above her head not even bothering to investigate what might be holding you hostage. She is well aware of your antics.

“Please don’t tell me you're texting him again,” she lifts the device higher as you futilely lunge for it.

“He said he was coming,” you begin to gather a defense, “but I haven’t gotten a response since I sent the address… maybe hold my phone a bit higher?”

Claire lets out a monstrous groan of frustration and rolls her eyes, “You really are helpless!”

“I know,” you repine and give her your best pleading puppy dog eyes and hold two starving hands out in front of you.

Begrudgingly she gives in, slamming your phone against your awaiting palms. As soon as your phone is back in your possession you return to refreshing your messages, all in vain of course.

Whenever Jake was in London he always visited you, sometimes even flying you out to whatever part of Europe his show was in or just because he wanted to see you. A trail of one night stands that became ritual.

The nights always started out modest, the two of you innocently traipsing about parties and bars accompanied by his brothers. You would all share drinks and stories for hours, belly laughing until you were ceased by sore ribs, as if you had all been friends for decades.

Nevertheless without fail, as the drinks poured further so did Jake’s appetite for you. He'd always shadow you with some kind of seemingly harmless touch; a hand on the small of your back progressed into squeezing your knee and then thigh, to tugging you into him by the waist when he was made uncomfortable or wanted to share a secret amongst chaotic surroundings.

One by one, his brothers would slowly fade out; Sam first, then Danny, and Josh was always the last to let the party die, taking it with him when he went. From that point, the evenings between you and Jake would morph into a primitive and sensual burn. Teasing and tearing at each other until the two of you eventually spent the rest of your night curled around the other. Once again, darting back to your guarded bubble of shy soft intimacy; neither of you willing to accept it was different from anything else anyone made you feel. Time spent together was something the both of you always rushed through days for, memories neatly placed in a treasure chest of beloved keepsakes when it was over.

But lately, it was different. Something brittle and bitter had blossomed. Jake had gotten only bigger and busier. Sometimes, he’d pule about missing you so naturally you’d beg to see him. He’d send beautiful trinkets and fine clothing from whatever part of the world he was in that next week to ineffectively make up for his absence no token would ever emulate.

Though you are elated for him, you are also acutely aware of your need to move on in order to outrun the pining tidal wave that threatens to swallow you whole. You’d tried before, but no man was Jake. And seeing you with other men only spelled him into a envious fit. A sight that tormented you both, the other too afraid to cry out as nothing was ever set in stone.

So instead you’d go to war over some irrelative thing and he’d ultimately swear on his beloved he didn’t give a shit about you and when or if he’d see you again; only to gift you some pretty peace offering in amends to offset the vigorous cycle once again.

Like a vinyl record against the needle, the two of you are going round and round the same circle; different songs, same sonic. You know if the pattern continues, you are slowly headed towards the dead wax. You hope tonight will mend the broken pieces between you as he vowed he’d come to spoil you a few weeks ago.

“You need to cut him off,” Claire has stated her stance on the situationship brazenly before, “all he does is treat you like shit. He entertains you from a distance and keeps you waiting until he wants to get his dick wet.”

Having been through this debate with her many times, you only frown and exhale, “It's not like that and you know it.”

She mirrors your disapproval, “Isn’t it?”

Just as you are forming your rebuttal your phone buzzes in your hands; confiscating your ability to exist anywhere other than your screen. It might as well have looked like you were going to dial 9-9-9 the way you dementedly scramble to open your phone.

JAKE:

Hey, angel. Sorry, I got stuck at this dive with my brothers and now they don’t want to leave. I think we’re just going to spend the rest of the night here. Maybe I’ll catch you next time?

You had not been enjoying your time at this party. You had been ignoring your best friend. You had been ignoring cute flirty strangers. You had been exuberantly anticipating Jake’s company tonight for months. All to be left on read, pathetically pining for hours now; all so you could be stood up by the man.

Your chest bursts with flames of mortified resentment, fueled by his impudence. Irate does not even scratch the surface of how your heart pounds. Your blood is scalding, skin scorching.

Jake made you feel stupid yet again.

Your face must give you away before you can even get out a word of impertinence as you look up from the insolent text to see Claire smugly sipping her drink.

A knowing smirk spreads viral across her face, “He's not coming, is he?”

The last thing you want to do is tell her bitch ass she is right in your state of red. Instead, you offer her a question you know will sate her pride without feeding on your wounds.

A vengeful grin takes hold of you “Cute stranger checking me out, you mentioned?”

You have never seen her look so pleased with herself as she nods in the direction of a man at the end of the bar whose gaze you hold.

There is no way you are going to let this night go to waste. Not after Jake made such a desperate-looking fool out of you.

You decide if he is going to ignore you it's going to be his loss, not yours. You are not going to let him waste your time and you are definitely not going to let him take your fun.

You throw your most alluring eyes and innocent smile at the stranger and wave him over. He returns the greeting and calls some indiscernible phrases out to the bartender before receiving three drinks and walking over to your table.

He is tall, dark, and handsome. The complete opposite of Jake. A promise of great distraction.

He sets the three drinks down at your table pushing two glasses of what he claims to be screwdrivers towards Claire and yourself. He then proceeds to introduce himself as Hunter through an almost seemingly painful giant smile.

You can’t help but compare it to your favorite pretty and childlike grin Jake always wore, a sight you ache for.

You cordially engage in small talk with him, asking and answering the procedural “Where are you from?”, “What do you do?”, and “What do you like to do?”; fitting in the occasional desirous glances and seemingly innocent yet lingering touches when appropriate.

He is definitely funny, but not witty and satirical like Jake’s humor; undeniably intelligent, but not in the philosophical and existential sense like Jake.

You mentally berate yourself for still thinking about a guy who is obviously not thinking about you when Hunter clutches your hand, ripping you from your dissociation.

He points towards the middle of the flat where you see multiple people frolicking about, “Do you want to dance?”

Why the hell not? You throw back the rest of your drink and smirk wide in response. This seems to oddly appease Hunter but you think nothing of it as you feel yourself being towed to the make-shift dance floor.

At first, the movements are modest, just an adventurous activity between acquaintances. But after a few songs, you feel the alcohol rid you of your inhibitions, most likely against your better judgment, but at this moment you can’t seem to wrap your fingers around any care if you tried.

You grind and tangle yourself up with this man you hardly know. He seems into it and you are blissfully swept away from your afflictions, a win-win. So what is the harm?

As soon as the thought has come and gone, you feel it; an overwhelming perilous sensation of being surveilled. You turn your attention over to where you had left Claire at your table to see her deeply engaged in conversation with Josh.

Fuck. Where there is a Josh there is most certainly a Jake.

You whirl towards the flat’s bar to lock eyes with the source of the sinister stare; an infuriated Jake leaning against the countertop, arms crossed. He holds your gaping stare with a blistering nostril-flared one of his own, licking over his salient bottom lip into that bewitching pout and clenching his jaw.

A small part of you threatens to collapse under guilt as if you have been caught doing something wrong. But you find the majority of you seethes under a new tantalizing flame, devouring any clemency present.

Almost drunk off of this new power dynamic, finally, you have the upper hand and Jake is the one squirming. Of course, you want Jake over this clown any day of the week but he had made you wait almost all night, he can definitely handle a few more minutes.

You spin, now facing towards Jake’s beaming acrimony from the bar, allowing him a full access view to you commandeering one of Hunter's hands connected to the small of your back and slowly guiding him down to your ass, the other to your waist. You press your backside against his pelvis and his hips follow, grinding in the motions of your own.

You stretch upward as high behind you as you can, sinking your fingers into Hunter’s thick black curls. Just to sell it, you showmanly lean your head back against Hunter’s shoulder and whisper sweet nothings in his ear when he leans down into you.

You glance up at your petulant victim to see Jake roll his eyes and throw his head back in a deriding chuckle before he slams down the rest of his pint. Jake is most certainly under your spell.

You tell yourself that each song with Hunter is the last dance until you’re unsure how many have passed. Any concept of time you own is completely suspended in the delicious way Jake looks when he is hungry to devour what he can’t have, and in this moment it happens to be you.

Abruptly, you feel yourself being swept towards the nearest wall and your face being tilted up towards Hunter’s as he cranes his mouth down to meet yours.

It is nice. Pleasurable for sure. He is definitely a good kisser, but again all you can bring yourself to think of is Jake’s perfectly pink pouty lips pressed against yours.

There is no point in tormenting Jake if you are just as miserable.

As you are about to break away from the stale kiss, Hunter’s weight that is pinning you up against the wall unexpectedly falters, sending you fumbling to the floor. You attempt to regain your balance but the room is slightly spinning, a likely side effect from the alcohol in your bloodstream. You might have questioned it having only had a drink or two if your focus wasn’t currently employed by figuring your way back to vertical.

A hand makes its way into your line of sight, offering to help you up. You swat away the aid, recognizing it as Jake’s. He huffs and shakes his head vexed. Jake brings himself closer to the whirling stack of bones that you are on the floor and tenaciously claps his rangy hands around your waist; making a show to assign his fingers in the exact arrangement where Hunter’s had just been. He devoutly springs you to your feet as if you'd rehearsed the move. As soon as you gain your footing you step back from Jake and dust yourself off, despite landing on a clean floor.

You inspect your crumbs of clues; the boys glaring at each other and at the brink of verbal warfare. You arrive at the conclusion that a fuming Jake had let all restraint dissipate as he shoved Hunter off of you in his impulsive fit.

“Why don’t you go find some other victim to slam into a wall,” Jake snarls, “she’s had enough for tonight.”

“She didn’t seem to have a problem when she was dancing all over me,” Hunter shoots back genuinely confused, “are you supposed to be her boyfriend or something?”

You race to interject, “He is not,” addressing Hunter but then throw your finger in Jake’s face, “and you have no right-”

Hunter takes one big territorial step to cleat himself between you and your oppressor. An exasperated Jake scowls at your fictitious defender and back to you, his features melting into a sickened sight as if to ask if you are really going to allow him to be vilified as the threat.

Of course protection from Jake is the last thing you will ever need. He could say whatever he’d like but Jake will never lay a harmful finger to you.

However, the hunt makes the game. You subtly shrug at Jake and let the mens’ egos carry out your dirty work.

Hunter sets his fist on Jake’s sternum in an attempt to get him to step back, “Mate, she doesn’t seem to be into it so why don’t you give us some space.”

This is the trigger that detonates the antagonized man just in front of your human shield.

“Oh trust me, mate,” he mimics Hunter in an explosion, the shrapnel riding your blood to your cheeks, “when I say I happen to know what the little slut is into and it is definitely not-” Jake is cut off by a panicky Josh now stepping in between the two before Jake can say anything he can’t take back.

Josh seems to instruct his detesting brother through glances. You always find it hard to properly digest a situation with the appropriate amount of severity when the twins begin conversing with mere facial expressions.

It only lasts for a second or two before Jake refixes his glare towards Hunter. Mirroring Jake, Josh returns to Hunter with an antsy smile and places a friendly hand on his barely-reachable shoulder, as if he is about to deliver bad news.

“Sorry about him,” he starts to mediate, motioning towards his fuming twin he shrugs and chuckles nervously, “tequila makes him aggressive.”

You almost giggle at Josh’s flamboyant rescue. He is a detail oriented man who is verbally quick on his feet. He usually paints pictures you can not poke holes in. So you know he must be distraught or drunk as you hadn't even seen Jake drink an ounce of liquor since he arrived.

However, Hunter doesn’t seem quite as amused as he slaps Josh's hand off and grunts, “Whatever, I don’t do crazy exes anyway.”

He insincerely waves you off and facetiously blows Jake a kiss in one last satirical jab before sauntering off, dematerializing amongst the crowd.

Jake now recoils from Josh’s touch and waits for him to vanish as well. However, Josh’s sight seeks you and bears a disapproving nod, warning you to behave in a glower. For a split second, you forget he is a twin as his protective demeanor is all that of a vigilant elder sibling.

Nevertheless, Josh makes his way back to where he had been so unnecessarily interrupted and dragged away from Claire.

Your attention gravitates to Jake in daggers. Before you can form any thoughts or strategy, venom goes flying past your lips, “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!”

Jake swivels his head around, slightly panicking at all the partygoers that had stopped party going to sightsee this freak show. He never likes to be the center of attention unless he has six strings and a fretboard under his fingers.

Nimbly, he leads you by the arm into the nearby bathroom and slams the door shut.

You throw your arms out in confusion, “Have you lost your fucking mind?!”

He fires back, “No, just my patience with you!”

The room is small enough now that his scent circulates and the offensive smell of beer and bourbon attacks your senses; which explains his uncharacteristic boldness.

“Shit, Jake, you smell like a fucking brewery,” you spit out.

He seems to grasp how sloppy he let himself get. Your words siphon a hint of sobriety as he takes a deep breath and now speaks to you with a much more repealed approach.

You can tell he is still upset but is focusing on his convictions for the moment, “Are you okay? I didn’t mean for you to fall like that.” He hesitates, “And I’m sorry- I have no idea why I called you slut- I didn’t mean-”

You are nearly swept away by the sweet breeze of your angelic Jake; the one that trips over his words when he gets excited and loves to take on whimsical personas of his own invention. Jake that is present and kind, even at the end of the night. But just like a fleeting breeze, you easily withstand his charms.

He may have found his composure but you certainly did not, not that you want to, “I’m fine, Jacob! Want to explain whatever the shit that was?!”

Any remorse present in his tone abandons him, “Oh please, you wanted that! I could see it all over your face while you were messing with that prick. I don’t even know why I'm surprised. You’re like a child who throws a fucking fit. The moment I don't do or tell you exactly what you want you go throw yourself into the arms of some random no-good fuck. I knew you were with him as soon as you went radio silent.”

You narrow your eyes at him. You’re almost suspicious of the blank canvas he’s left for you to fill in with logic; he’s usually ten points ahead when debating, never speaking a vulnerable statement for someone to collapse before him. You are almost hesitant to ask the question.

Your hand finds your hip as a means to reinforce your interrogation, “That’s just it, isn’t it? You don’t own me, Jake! So what if I was dancing with Hunter?”

He rolls his eyes and growls at the mention of his name. If Jake were an ounce more theatrical you swear he would have gagged too.

You cross your arms and lean into the balls of your feet as you sharpen your questions, knowing you have him trapped, “If you knew, why did you even show up then? Why do you even care? It’s not like I’m your girlfriend or anything?”

He blurts out way too quickly to disguise any aloofness, “I don’t care!”

Jake immediately throws his head back in defeat and groans, crumbling under further rumination of your questions, as if they frustrate him as much as they do you, “I don’t know! You just- It kills me to see you- sometimes- you make me so-”

He is struggling to articulate his thoughts without making himself look like the blatant asshole, but you see right through it.

You, however, have no problem spitting the word out. In fact, it progresses the igneous tension between the two of you into a delicious sweltering burn.

You dangle the word right in front of him just to watch him squirm, “Jealous?”

The accusation furrows his brow and tightens his shoulders.

If you didn’t know any better, his sudden dark tone would have you red with shame for such an accusation, “You think I’m jealous? Trust me, kitten, you haven’t even seen jealousy. Go fuck that guy for all I care.”

You giggle and raise a slanderous eyebrow, soundlessly challenging his overtly bogus defense. Your defiance vacillates Jake back to his munition.

He charges towards you, his footsteps following the alignment of his pointer finger swinging in your direction, “What the fuck are you smiling at- You know what?! Fuck this and fuck you! You always do this. Always getting me into more trouble than I bargain for.”

Jake is growling in fragments now, growing taller with every step he takes drawing in towards you, surrendering to your gravity.

“This isn’t me! I’m not this person who gets jealous and fights with strangers at a party,” he gestures his clenched fists towards you, arms length away now, “And I don’t like being angry with you!”

Jake corners you between the wall and a stall, yet his rushing commute ceases to falter, “And what’s worse is I actually think you enjoy this! You must get off on this! I think you want to see me lose my mind!”

Jake is close enough that you are now confronted by the moles that cradle his right jaw, the charming silver starting to streak from his temples, the sculpt in the cartilage of his prominent nose, and the slight uneven curl of his upper lip. Details no camera could capture and no screaming fan could ever have knowledge of; intimate details one would ever amass without his admission.

If he moves any closer he would have to kiss you. He scolded you for getting worked up off his anger when he was doing the exact same thing. The worst part being you aren’t even sure if he has caught on to this rage-driven gravitation between the two of you. His face reads “Caution, stay away,” but his body is imploring you to take care of him. He is right where you want him, giving you all the power once again.

He resumes waving his finger at you and stiffly pokes your collarbone. He opens his mouth to make another point but his words never deliver themselves. You see his very thoughts dematerialize as he touches your buzzing skin.

He doesn’t even lift his finger from you, just lets it fall to the start of your breasts, making your chest heave. He subconsciously presses his body to yours; so close you catch his erratic breaths on your lips.

You hastily retort while he is distracted, “That’s pretty amusing considering you're the asshole that ruined my night, not the other way around, slut.”

He rakes the pad of his finger still connected to you, up your clavicle till it rests at the top of your outermost prominent neck muscle, delicately wrapping the rest of his digits around your throat once he runs out of room. He sinks further into your orbit so that he is now hovering just above your features.

“Look at you, just begging for someone to put you in your place,” he rasps out, ever so slightly applying a teasing pressure to reduce your air flow.

Collecting yourself enough to stream your words out in a lazy river, you dare taunt the feral man that holds your next breath between his fingers, “Look at you, Jacob, absolutely rabid with jealousy.”

“I’ve had it with your little attitude,” his hand delectably contorts further around your throat in a fit of conniption as he roars through clenched teeth, “Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t fucking drag me here to make me jealous.”

“Bite me, Jake,” you roll your eyes at his arrogance.

You expect him to snap at you, to reprimand you for your insubordination. However, to your surprise he laps one long stripe from the corner of your pout to the start of your cheekbone. The action expels your nerves into shock; a shudder slithers its way up your spine.

Jake sighs against the shell of your ear, “Is that why you’re being such a little fucking brat? You just want me to bite you, sweetheart? Is that it?”

Your only response is a whimper as a crackling heat awakes between your thighs and your hips grind into Jake on their own accord; giving him the only answer he needs.

Satiated by your feedback, Jake nearly moans at regaining the upper hand, “I swear- and why should I even care, kitten?”

You urgently squeal, struggling against your constricting airway, “Because it’s your fault! I’ve never craved attention until you did this to me!”

Cocking his head to the side to purport the appearance of a disapproving analysis, he mocks your need, “How did we end up like this, beautiful? We are absolutely no good for each other.”

You don’t bother devising a clever response, knowing he’s already decided to give you what you want.

He clenches his jaw and runs his tongue along the ridges of his teeth, twisting the pink muscle into the crevices of his molars, “It’s rude to stare, kitten. Do I need to teach you how to use that pretty smart mouth of yours?”

You only bat your eyes at him, your expressionless face waiting for what you know comes next.

He raises an eyebrow at you, impatient for some response and mutters, “Say something.”

A shit-eating grin sneaks its way onto your face, “Don’t forget to lock the door, babyboy.”

Jake’s once kind eyes grow dark to an absolutely immoral shade of lust. Heedlessly, his lips crash against yours, the sensation you’ve fantasized about since the last time his mouth deserted yours. He tastes of bourbon and peaches.

He slips his hands around your ass and hauls you up to straddle his waist. You wrap your legs around him as he staggers towards the door lock as you instructed, as if he couldn’t wait to get his hands on you long enough to complete the task first.

Jake places you on the sink and protestingly pries himself back from you, as if starving for more but looking at you was a vital duty he must perform.

His eyes plot you up and down, infatuated with this strand of you, reserved only for him. You don’t have to say a word for Jake to know what happens when he’s away; the way you move for him confesses everything he is already aware of. He is the only one capable of having you completely and utterly vulnerable and unguarded and unadulterated; animalistically yourself.

For the first time tonight, Jake’s pretty pout draws back in a genuine smile for you; a giddy fool and his favorite fix.

He gracefully reaches to untie your wrap blouse and it falls to your sides, uncurtaining your heaving breasts. He hums in satisfaction of your physique.

Jake lightly places his hands on your knees and observes as his fingers featherly dance upon your thighs, only to stop and squeeze into the thick of them until he leaves white imprints. He curls into you, Jake’s perpetually exposed chest rubbing against your newly bare nipples, extracting a hiss from you.

Your core already weeps with need.

The hungry man burrows his face into your neck but stops right before his lips meet your skin, knowing you desperately need his mouth.

He teases you with a tickling whisper, “Fuck- I missed you. They don’t make girls like you in Nashville.”

The ribbing huff of his breath makes you shudder.

You press your hand against his hip, slide it down the curve of his thigh and inward till you map out his hard length through his pants, “I can see, you poor thing.”

Your movement draws a low growl from him in your ear, “Fuck- You see what you do to me, kitten? You see all the problems you cause me?”

You begin to palm him through his clothes and feign out a bratty whine, “Yes, but we always have such a good time, don’t we Jakey?”

Jake begins to eat at your neck while you continue to caress him until he moves down and out of your reach.

He plots out your clavicle, licking down your sternum through the valley of your peaking breasts; delaying his journey to lap one of your nipples into his warm salacious mouth as he gropes the other in his lanky hand. A few mumbled swears fall from you as Jake begins to venture in biting and sucking marks into the supple flesh of your breasts, soothing each spot with candied kisses afterwards.

“Shit- just when I thought these perfect tits couldn’t get any prettier. An absolutely breathtaking sight with my bitemarks,” he pants.

Jake’s mouth resumes its migration south to your goosebump ridden thighs. He sinks his fingers into the flesh of your ass, resting his elbows against the corners of the sink for balance as he lowers the rest of his body to accommodate the angle of your glistening center.

His mouth now takes purchase of where his fingertips had just deserted your thighs, kissing away the residual sting; closer and closer to your entrance till his head vanishes, canopied in between your skirt and legs. You feel the heat of his huffing through the lace of your panties. The sensation alone is enough to make you whine with need. Jake then bites into the material of your damp thong, sampling your arousal as he tugs your underwear to the side using his teeth. Jake plants his lips to yours in a row of delicate kisses, making you quiver with anticipation.

“Wider,” he growls out the demand.

You lean back to let your bare shoulder blades rest against the ice cold mirror behind you in order to grant him better access to your wetness. Jake is entranced as he gapes at how the chill glass spells you to hiss and clench around nothing.

He takes a deep inhale of you and slots the tip of his nose against your entrance. In one agonizingly slow movement he reclines his head so that his nose flits over your aching clit as he sticks out the flat of his tongue to follow the lewd trail.

You open your mouth to sing his praises but all that comes out is his name in a hiccuping squeak.

He then wraps his ample lips around your throbbing clit and nimbly sucks it into the warm plush of his mouth, swirling his velvety tongue around your bud.

The deed elicits a piteous wail to escape you and the confiscation of any remaining control over your restless limbs. Your hips involuntarily swing forward, seeking more of his mouth.

He rewards you with a swift smack against your thigh, “Easy,” he begins to plant light kisses on your entrance, “needy little thing today, aren’t you?”

Having not fully removed his mouth from you, the vibrations of his teasing words sends unexpected ripples of titillation humming through you, instigating your reeling squirms further, “Relax, kitten. I know how to take care of you. I know what you need.”

He finally unlatches his other hand from your ass. You hadn’t even registered the delicious sting of his fingers over the imperious pleasure of his mouth; a pain promising to blossom into pretty hues of purples, blues, and greens.

He delineates the curve of your thigh with his fingertips, finally fluttering over your entrance. Impatiently, he hikes your skirt up to bunch at your waist. He savagely yanks your lace underwear down and over your ankles, not even bothering to wait for you to adjust to help slip the material off. He looks to you with a seemingly innocent goofy grin as he pockets his newly pillaged treasure.

You roll your eyes and press your lips together to stifle your obvious giggle. In a feigned offense, Jake snatches your ankles in his grasp to reestablish his authority and your attention. Slowly, he lifts your legs to settle your thighs around his shoulders, careful not to throw off your balance on the porcelain counter.

You lock your ankles around him as his hands pet up your legs and wrap around your thighs to bore into your flesh. Jake reintroduces his mouth to your soaking entrance, sloppily devouring your nectar.

Though pleasing, you know he is holding out on you. Jake loves to hear you beg; for you to pray for what you know he can’t help but give you.

“Jake, more,” you demand despite knowing it will land void.

He immediately ceases his feed and arrogantly reminds you of your place, “Oh, I don’t think you’re in any position to give orders now, are you kitten?”

Mourning the loss of his mouth, you choke on a sob, “No, Jake!”

He tenderly begins to brush his digits along your skin, “That’s right, but I happen to know that pretty mouth sings a lot lovelier than she barks.”

He moves one of his thumbs to circle over your swollen clit as incentive, making his compulsion undeniable.

You desperately pant out your pleas, “Please- Shit- Please, Jake. I need- Jake- Fuck- fingers?”

“Sorry, baby, you’re not making any sense,” he terrorizes you now, stretching a free digit from your bud to tease your entrance.

You manage to piece together your needs enough to satisfy him, “Jake- please, I need your fingers- need them inside me- I need to soak them- please, baby?”

Your scandalous words draw a sweet moan from him. The vivacious grant of your request tells you he can’t stand to make you wait any longer.

He begins pumping his middle and ring finger inside you, making you mewl his name.

He once again envelopes your clit in his lips and begins to suck and lap you towards ecstasy. You feel the euphoric tension strain your abdomen as Jake curls his fingers around the spot he always seems to effortlessly discover.

“Fuck- Jake don’t stop- please- please don’t stop,” your voice reaches the high pitch only he brings it to.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, you sound too pretty with my fingers inside you to deny,” he coos against your sensitive clit.

Jake’s lustful praises send you into an orgasmic haze as your walls squeeze around his fingers and back arches away from the mirror.

As he feels you getting close, Jake begins to coach you, “Relax for me, beautiful. Can you relax that pretty pussy for me?”

You inventory only enough coherency to wantonly moan, indicating your process of his demand.

“Good girl, that's it. Just breathe and take it,” his praises coerce you into obedience.

Even though every endorphin in your body is imploring you to writhe at Jake’s touch, you do your best to relax and breathe as he ordered. You relent to Jake’s fingers, allowing him to caress into a new spot, a fresh wave of sensitivity finding you.

He knows he’s found the place as soon as you squeal his name in response. He begins to violently fuck deep into you with his hand, pumping in and out of you, his fingertips catching his new target every time, catapulting you into your orgasm. You're consumed by white heat as you soar through your ecstasy.

You’ve cleared through your orgasm yet oddly the tension in your abdomen is not alleviated but is now twice as constricting.

Jake never ceases to send his fingers in and out of you at a furious pace and the pressure that builds is of a different class, requiring your whole body to participate in your release. Where he was once babying his mark, he is now assaulting it; his digits curling into you with every pump. The sloppy sounds of Jake finger fucking you grows louder with every stroke.

His lips swallow your clit, slurping you into his mouth for safekeeping, sending you into overdrive as you approach this new release. Your pussy begins to convulse and contract around Jake but he drives into you faster still.

“That’s it, babygirl, cum for me. I’ve missed having you on my tongue,” his words barely make their way into your consciousness.

Your vision begins to black out as your eyes roll back and your slick sprays his face and coats his hands.

Yet, Jake refuses to cease his assault. Your climax builds within you so tight, it rips its way out of you. Your cunt expels a deluge of liquids and continues to pour into Jake’s hand with every dizzying clench of your cunt. Again. Again. And again. Until you are downpour, trickling past his wrist and onto the tile floor.

“Fucking shit- Jacob- don’t stop- I can’t- I’m still cumming- Ja- Baby- Jacob,” your voice melodically crashes and breaks against waves of rasping screams and swearing whimpers louder still, floating off somewhere in oblivion.

Jake thinks it's the most beautiful you’ve ever sounded. Your body finally gives, and you collapse back against the mirror behind the sink. After a few seconds you peek your eyes open to see the mess you made.

He pulls away from you to stand once again and observes his glistening hand in a gaping awe, unphased by your cum dripping down his chin.

“I love when you do that,” he mutters more to himself than you as he slurps your elixir from his own limb.

He isn’t even touching you but the pornagraphic sight reels a moan from you.

“Does my beautiful girl want a taste of her own orgasm?”

He places his fingers along your lips, waiting for your consent. You stick your tongue out and he slides his digits up along the textured muscle until you stifle a slight gag; the veins that decorate his knuckles pressing into your top lip.

He pulls your mouth closer to his with his fingers, slipping them out just before he slides his tongue between your lips; you further taste your glaze as he licks into your mouth.

He impatiently pulls away from you with a hungry groan and scatters to undo his belt. His pants fall to his ankles, his normally hidden curves now visible; a delectable sight you will never grow tired of. His physique is appetizingly curvier than most men and the very view made your dripping pussy flutter without remedy.

Jake catches your ravenous stare and arrogantly quips, “See something you like, kitten?”

Rather than respond, you greedily grab at him and slip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers. You tug him closer along with the material and shimmy it down to liberate his hard painfully pink penis.

“I missed you too,” you run a finger over his leaking tip, causing his head to roll back in a hiss, “and this pretty cock.”

In one swift movement, you quickly gather your remaining arousal on his face in your free hand and reach down to slather his throbbing dick. You lay messy open mouth kisses along his jaw and neck as you now lightly pump him in your hand.

“Fuck- you’re so hot,” Jake rasps out at the loss of composure; his mouth slacks agape as you continue to jerk him off.

You move your hand to flick at his head and his features further melt in bliss.

“Slow down,” he whimpers, ”I want to be dripping down your thighs, not your hand,” his statement demands your submission.

You can tell Jake is unraveling fast as he starts twitching in your fingers. He is close until he obstinately pulls you away from him by the wrist.

You pout out an apology and he relocates your hands around his shoulders, and grabs your waist as he paints your cheek with open mouth kisses. His tongue works a long stripe behind your ear and sucks your lobe into his mouth.

He speaks through teeth clenched around your cartilage, “You always misbehave like such a brat, but underneath it all my girl is just a sweet thing, aren’t you?”

His intimate words alone render you to a din of pitiful mutters and swears.

You feel him begin to press his hard cock into the thick of your thigh, involuntarily pursuing relief, “You just need someone who knows what you are, hmm? Knows what you need?”

You praise and beg as your center is reintroduced to that familiar ache, “Jake, please. You know what I need.”

The sensation of Jake grinding himself against your leg dissolves all restraint. You try to buck your hips towards him in search of what you want most, but he doesn’t let you succeed. Jake arrests your waist to push you further back onto the sink.

He snickers at your cupidity, “What a greedy little slut. Just came a fucking mess and you already want more.”

You stroke his ego with hopes flattery will seduce him, “Yes- I’m a glutton for you, please, Jake?”

You scoot back up to the edge of the sink and grab at him; mad for his touch. Instead, your ambition is requited with a stinging smack to your cunt as he bellows the command, “Sit still! I’m not going to tell you again.”

You can’t help the fearless groan that echoes throughout the small room.

He bitterly miffs, “Yea? Should have thought about that before you were fucking around with that shit for brains?”

“Jake, I’m sorry,” you gravel, growing more impatient by the second that you can’t feel him.

Your insincere words purchase you no spoils as he taunts you further, “Good- You have no idea. I wanted to break his fucking nose wide open! What was his name again, sweet thing?”

Before you can fashion any remark, he yanks you to teeter on the end of the countertop once again. Jake, shaft in hand, drives his throbbing tip just past your lips, and flicks himself against your sensitive clit.

Your knuckles grip white against the corners of the porcelain struggling to remain in place as you whimper gibberish, “Fuck- Jake- I- MMM- fuck-”

“Look at my good sweet girl, so cock drunk she can’t even remember the pawn she was using to make me jealous a few minutes ago,” he smugly croons.

He featherly runs his fingers through the tresses of your hair. As he smooths down your mane you cave into his touch.

“I fucking hated seeing you with him,” his words drip with scorn, “It killed me. You deserve better because you’re my good girl.”

Lining himself up to press into your labia, he docks his forehead against your clavicle to look down at his toying with you. Slightly arching forward, his pink head only just glides past your entrance.

You are teetering over the line of ditzy, Jake’s tantalizing quips being the only tether before you are too far gone, “What a filthy slut? Playing dirty to get Daddy’s attention?”

Any remaining composure flees from you as the name is growled against your skin and you immediately call it back to him, “Shit- I’m- fuck- I’m sorry, Daddy. Please, fuck me?!”

One hand still residing in your hair, he tugs by the root to guide your ear to his open mouth, “Well you’ve got my attention now, my sweet little fucked out thing.”

Without warning, Jake mercilessly thrusts himself inside you to the hilt. You slap your hand over your mouth to silence the obscene wails tearing through you.

Jake promptly rips your hand away, “Don’t you fucking dare. I want everyone to hear my little cock drunk slut sing.”

Without granting you an opportunity to adjust to his girth, he pulls himself nearly all the way out just to plunge himself all the way back in, driving into that magical spot.

Just as that illustrious need grows in your stomach, Jake pulls out completely. You don’t have the opportunity to protest before he gathers you from off the countertop and twists you around towards your reflection. He gingerly presses his touch into the protruding shape of your shoulder blade, lightly ushering you to lean over the slab of the counter. You surrender to Jake’s decree, not willing to risk your orgasm.

Jake finds your fucked out gaze through the mirror and faintly adjures, “I want you to watch as I fuck you.”

You know better than to mistake his lowly tone for submission. You lean your weight on your elbows as you settle against the sink and raise your head to take in every detail as Jake begins fuck into you from behind.

His pace starts off moderate, but every stroke pierces deep. Your eyes are spellbound by the vision of his pelvic bone slamming into your ass with every harsh swing of his hips.

You do your best to keep your eyes visible as his rhythm picks up, but inevitably your head hangs limp, dizzy from your approaching high. You resign from your efforts once he begins to rock into you faster, burying himself further in your cunt.

You are compensated by a half-lidded Jake forcing your head back up by your chin, “Nah-uh. Look at me, baby.”

You manage to anchor your head where Jake repositioned it, but you are helpless to the way your eyes roll back as he swivels his hips rutting into that sweet spot. Jake grants you exoneration as your walls tighten around his twitching cock, indicating you are close.

Your every muscle trembles as you are abraded by your final orgasm. You're too far gone in your trance. You babble a gibbered language of swears and crying moans as you give into the chemical release.

“Just one more for me, babygirl, you can take it,” he hushes you.

You are strung back from your trip by the stutter of Jake’s hips and hiccuping moans. He is close. You see him tire as he curls around you, his panting grunts tickling your skin.

“Come on, baby,” you root for him despite your own overstimulation, “fuck me full. Want it so bad.”

You are captivated by the reflection of his features contorting under bliss as he fights to keep his hips in motion. You roll your hips to follow Jake’s strokes as his high suspends his stamina.

His eyes roll back as he begins to convulse, his dick jerking inside you. He releases, his lewd moan of absolute venery graces your ears as he empties himself inside you, coating your pulsing walls.

Jake goes limp, briefly taking refuge against your backside as he catches his breath and you come down from your highs together. He lazily litters your skin with kisses wherever his lips can reach.

He sighs against your spine, “Fuck- you’re magnificent. Absolutely electric.”

He wills himself to stand vertical, tugging his pants back in place over his hips before he eases you upright. Assisting you with his steady grip on your pelvis, the steamy skin of his lithe chest sticks to your backside. He wraps an arm around your waist to hold you steady as your knees buckle upon landing, pulling you into him once more. He bows his head to warrant his lips to lathe your neck, savoring the salt of your skin.

Far too consumed to break away from his sloppy kisses, he tilts his head as his eyes hunt for the reflection of yours, “But I meant what I said earlier, we’re no good for each other.”

He nibbles his way up and sucks at the muscle of your jaw, “I like you way more than I planned to but there’s no way we can continue like this, babygirl.”

You go numb; the only sensation present being pins and needles pricking your chest. His words spell you dumb, abolishing any sense to speak or move.

He delicately spins you to face him once again and tenderly kisses the tip of your nose.

Jakes slightly pulls back to skillfully tie your blouse back up for you, “Whatever this is, it's got to settle here.”

“Jake- you-,” you breathlessly chase for the tail of your thought that doesn’t seem to exist.

He squeezes your hands in his, “I mean it, kitten, don’t call me anymore. I won’t pick up for you.”

The tender manner in which his lips love on you does not mesh with his condemning words.

He draws back to see tears you aren’t aware are now rolling down your flushed cheeks.

He lets go of one of your hands to cup your jaw and kisses the salty sadness from your features, “Don’t cry, baby, you’re perfect.”

He envelopes your lips between his one last time before he brings your hand still in his grasp to place his pucker against your knuckles and whisper, “Please take care of yourself for me, babygirl.”

You are prisoner to paralyzation as those enticing amber eyes abandon you; rendering you to nothing but shattered forsaken ruins strewn across an empty bathroom, grasping and grappling to purchase any sort of rationale beyond the carnage.

You’re forced to silently choke on consternation at the sight of his chestnut waves bouncing against his shoulders as Jake weightlessly vanishes through the swinging door.

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