#house of ashes Jason | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lorebite · 2 years ago

Text

𝒐𝒅𝒅𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒊𝒕 | 𝐣𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

warnings: 18+ minors dni. cursing. fem/afab reader. suggestive content (lots of dirty talk, begging, mild fingering (f receiving), a bit of handjob, finger sucking, a bit of hair pulling, cunnilingus, masturbation instructions, [unprotected] sex against the wall, creampie, slight breeding, switchy Jason). i might've watched too much attack on titan but reader is, like, super physically strong in this one. enemies to more. Jason is hella touch starved and needy but also a cocky mf. just two fellow enemies not being able to resist railing the shit out of each other; what else do you expect from me? 😜 big dick™ Jason. this is that "Salim + Nick scene" but reenacted with Jason in mind. probably the horniest piece i've written on this blog to this day.

summary: after the ambush, Jason finds himself stranded from his team in the hellish depths of the Sumerian temple. once he comes across a promising opening, an enemy soldier he hasn't run into before pulls him away before he walks himself right into certain doom. what will become of this unlikely due in the face of danger?

It was a disaster. The ambush had depleted more than half of Jason’s energy – to hell with everything else he went through since they fell. Alas, he had no time to waste; with a sealed off exit and a long unknown path ahead, he had no choice but to stand back up and find another way to his team.

This wasn’t the first time he was finding himself on his own, navigating the harrowing crevices of these ungodly caverns that echoed even his sharp uneven gasps of breath. The sound of debris crushing beneath his soles was far from comforting, only exacerbating the gnawing panic in the pit of his stomach which made him too alert to the blinding darkness that seemed to close in on him the farther along he went.

At last, the soft glow of an opening loomed in the distance that seemed much like the mouth of a tunnel. He began walking faster, gun held tightly and at the ready. However, as his boot skimmed past just the fringe of the precipice, he cowered back into the shadows. He almost walked himself right off the cliff of the ruins. Cold wash of realization prickled his face as he drew a wavering breath and stalked farther away; but then his back collided with… something.

Air locked in Jason’s throat, eyes blowing wide in panic. He went rigid for the briefest moment, eyeing the foreign hand that wound around his face to plaster over his mouth. The unknown arm pushed him further back into what he only thought to be a person’s chest. His heart hammered in his throat, his grip growing loose on his rifle at his side.

A gentle “shhh” was breathed against his ear. Goosebumps raced down the back of his neck as he futilely looked to the side in an attempt to catch the slightest sight of this soldier – or whoever it may have been – whose arms enveloped him.

“Don’t make a fucking noise,” whispered a low feminine voice Jason didn’t recognize and although he already expected it, still it managed to aggravate his growing dread. Another hand stretched out from behind him and pointed at something in the distance, drawing his attention to a sight that made him gasp into the palm pressed over his mouth. “They hunt by sound. If that thing hears you now, we’re both done for.”

A few feet away just below the cliff, there crouched one of those monsters he barely managed to escape only minutes ago. It hunched over the carcass of a soldier, emitting those nauseating clicks and sniffing curiously.

“I’m gonna let go now,” said the faceless voice behind him again, quiet and careful. “If you try anything stupid—”

But Jason didn’t even let the sentence finish. As soon as the hand loosened slightly on his face, he made a grab for the opposing soldier’s wrist. However, she seemed to have anticipated his decision, her hand curling immediately around his forearm instead.

It took him aback. A choked noise of surprise caught in his throat as he was harshly shoved into the jagged wall of the temple. He bit his lip to hold back the pained groan threatening to tear out of his throat. Two hands were wrapped around his neck now, squeezing the breath out of his lungs. His eyes grew round and frantic as they peered into the eyes of his attacker.

That face. How long has it been since the last time he was in the same proximity with a warm attractive body? His brow gave a twitch as he silently marveled at the way his own body betrayed him. His waist jerked involuntarily, his fingers winding around your wrists as you thrust your hips into his to stop his nervous movements, unaware of what that action alone did to him. You snarled at the man.

“What did I tell you?” You spat in a harsh whisper. “You have a death wish?”

All Jason could manage was a short strangled moan – a noise so pathetic that even he could swear it made your smirk deepen. You cocked your head, face cast in the shadows.

“Don’t look at me like that. If I didn’t know better, I’d actually believe you’re enjoying this.”

Oh, hell. He was enjoying this. The insistent pressure of your knee in between his legs was already making his vision swim. Fear. Panic. Lust. The few hours down in this hellhole seemed to be truly fucking with his head. There must’ve been something absolutely wrong with him or why would he groan so deliriously when you shifted your feet and pushed the curve of your knee deeper against his clothed hardening cock. What were you even trying to do to him?

“Nothing to say?” You scoffed and Jason nearly moaned at the caress of your hot breath over his lips. “Typical. Maybe you’re better at following orders. That’s what a good soldier does best after all.”

He made no words. He couldn’t. As the pressure of your hands increased on his throat, his mouth went slack and his eyes rolled back into his head. He wished you’d just put him out of his misery already. You were so close. If only you leaned in a little closer and shut his mouth with yours.

“Let’s find out. What do you think?”

And you were pulling away from him then. The cold distance was sobering and Jason found himself shivering as his mind finally registered the weight of his rifle in his hand. He almost leapt to aim the muzzle on your chest – nothing but a knee jerk movement; but he stopped himself before he ended up putting himself in a stickier predicament with you.

You suddenly looked more restless than he remembered just a few moments ago. All confidence gone and panic giving way to the previous complacent look on your face as you paced up and down the short length of the vicinity. A quick glance down your form told him that you weren’t armed. At least not with a gun. And that relieved his unease, that sour stewing emotion growing into a firm sense of superiority in his chest.

He raised his rifle, just barely, to establish some level of boundary that had been missing since he ran into you, eyes glimmering with confidence once again.

Your eyes shifted skyward almost as if you meant to roll them but decided otherwise, taking a step back with your palms held up in front of you, though not in a show of surrender; rather, with an irritated flair as your lips twisted into an ugly line.

“Just when I thought we were getting along—”

Sarcasm seeped through your sneer, turning then into a faint smirk as Jason stomped a step in your space, his gun now zeroing on in your neck. That barely there upturn of your lips unnerved him – some hint of smugness, some tinge of sharpness. As if you knew something he didn’t and it made the blood rage hot in his veins. His face crumpled with a scowl.

“Don’t get fucking smart with me. Turn around. And put your hands where I can see them.”

He motioned rudely with his gun and you obeyed, sighing exasperatedly as you faced the open balmy air that led down the precipice. The monster yet remained perched on the ground and absorbed in the corpse, ever oblivious to your presence despite the little situation you had only minutes prior. The sight was unsettling enough that made your impatience grow and you speak up as the man loitered silently – assuming with hesitation – behind you.

“Are you planning to stand around and wait for something to happen?”

He scoffed, accent thick with panic as he spat his next words. “I’m thinking.”

“And what do you have so far?”

“I’ll come up with something if you shut the fuck up!”

You rolled your eyes this time, lolling your neck along with it as you resisted the dire urge to groan loudly in disdain. You turned a glance over your shoulder.

“How about you listen to me instead.”

It was much less a question and more a curt demand. Jason opened his mouth to object and quickly jerked his gun higher, alarmed, as he watched you calmly brandish a combat knife from your belt.

“The fuck you think you’re doing?”

You ignored him, stalking closer to the edge of the cliff and still safe within the shadows behind the uneven wall. Truth of the matter was, Jason could fuss all he wanted but unless he wished to risk drawing the monster’s attention to both of you, he needed to keep at least some of his problems to himself. And you knew that very well.

He followed you, more so out of detested obligation and his covert fear of being left to his devices again; however, it was only his frustration that surfaced to his mouth when he slapped the back of his hand to your shoulder and hissed under your ear.

“You outta your damn mind?”

“You’ll have to excuse me. I don’t listen to loudmouthed idiots.” You mumbled apathetically as your eyes searched the vicinity, not even once turning to look at the man who might as well be frothing at the mouth from sheer anger. “Does that answer your question?”

Now you looked at him – now that Jason was red in the face and clenching his teeth as he, quite literally, ripped you a new one with his eyes. Only if looks could kill…

“You got some fucking balls. Know who you even talking to?”

You cocked your head with a small frown, eyes taking in his flushed dirty face, his flaring nostrils and his pursed lips. “What’s your name?”

Jason blanched, eyelids flickering and voice silent, as if assuming he heard you wrong. But your gentle face staring at him, waiting patiently for his response proved him otherwise.

“I’m (Y/N).” You said softly, offering a handshake.

“I ain’t here to make friends.”

You shrugged, looking away from him and ahead as you withdrew your rejected hand. “Well, I just assumed you wanted me to know who I’m talking to.”

Jason scoffed. Again. You gave him a look from the corner of your eyes, shaking your head slowly as a dejected smirk crossed your lips. He puffed out his chest, moving in closer to you as if you had just challenged him, chin lifted and eyes narrowed.

“Something funny?”

His tone was far from friendly. Testing, rather. But you stayed put, pinning him with that same scrutinizing look from beneath your lashes. He didn’t shrink back. He held your gaze with such defiance it was admirably stupid.

“Listen, when all hell breaks loose, I will be the least of your worries. So, the sooner you realize that, the better for both of us here.” You paused for the briefest moment, turning your face enough to leer at the man, voice dropping low and melodious. “As much as I enjoy watching you pop a vessel.”

You snickered to yourself, satisfied at the look of incredulity that struck his features.

“When shit hits the fan,” he started slowly, voice deep and rich with venom. “The only thing you gotta worry about is my damn gun far up your ass. So, don’t even think about crossing me.”

“I think you need to calm down a little.”

“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down!”

“Then shut the fuck up and focus!”

That finally silenced him. He eyed your fingers which pointed your knife at him, the sharp tip barely even grazing his shirt. Somewhere in his mind, he felt justified to slap your hand away and throw you back against the wall behind you, your offending wrist held tightly in his grip by your head. And he did just that.

You cursed and squirmed, eyes burning with a fierce look as you scowled at the idiotic solider who pushed his weight against you with a grunt, his face, damp with sweat, hovering a hair breadth away from yours.

“Fucking hell—”

“Don’t like to smell your own shit now, do ya?”

He sounded unbelievably smug for the predicament you were both in – mere inches apart with an insatiable monster prowling just a few feet away. His smirk widened when you began to squirm again and he slammed your wrist once against the wall, loosening your grip until the knife slipped from your fingers to the ground.

“You motherfucker!”

“Shh shh shh! Let’s not try to alert the beast now. We’re having fun.”

“Like hell we are—”

You raised your free hand to go for a punch to the throat before he caught you firmly in his fist, pushing your arm to join the other up against the rough texture of the wall that scraped mercilessly at your skin. His fingers, almost as if without realizing, wove within yours as his eyes peered down at you and time suddenly slowed.

The strong knot of tension eased into a tingling air of titillation between you as you held his softened gaze, your own eyes flickering curiously up and down between the suggestive look in his dilated pupils and his parted, much too tempting, pink lips that beckoned you like a siren’s call. What the fuck was going on with you – why weren’t you fighting back anymore?

His warm body was pressed tightly against yours like burning coal, his erratic breaths on your face doing so little to soothe the mounting spiral of arousal within you. You felt your core grip at air as he eyed your mouth with his own lips fluttering slowly, silently contemplating whether to take that leap.

You took the initiative, driven by your impatience and growing need. He gasped into the kiss but it took him no more than an instance to reciprocate eagerly, his fingers tightening their hold as his hips moved restlessly against yours. He groaned, teeth hooking on your lip and coaxing an abrupt moan from the back of your throat.

“Shhhh,” he giggled, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Careful now, sweetheart. We ain’t in the clear, yet—” his mouth drifted from yours and down the length of your neck, leaving kisses and bites along the skin until he was at the hem of your collar. “As much as I love to hear you moan – mmm, fuck! You sound so fucking pretty though.”

It was impossible to not feel his firm bulge that pushed insistently into your thigh while he continued to grind against you. His hot breaths fleeted over your ear as he panted into your skin, a low growl riding along the breathlessness that escaped his lips.

“Fuck, I wanna hear you say my name – please, baby. Please, will you say it for me?” You were stunned at the plea and the stark desperation it clung to. “Say I’m your Jason. Tell me I’m yours. Even if it’s for a couple fucking minutes. Say you want me so fucking bad. Pleasepleaseplease.”

He whined his request in your ear. Over and over and over. Until your knees nearly gave from underneath you as his lips continued to leave a warm trail of kisses on every inch of bare skin they could find. You were breathless and unable to respond for a good few seconds until your lips opened to the litany of praises and filthy promises.

“Fuck… Jason… you’re mine… all fucking mine…”

Jason couldn’t hold the moans rolling off his lips at every instance you spoke his name. Soon, his grip loosened on your hands only for it to slide down your body and hook under your thighs, your own hands fidgeting with the buckles of his vest.

“Take these off.” You growled through teeth as your fingers proved useless to pry the man of his clothes. “Now.”

He drew his hands to himself only to quickly rid himself of the thick layers that filled needless space between you, leaving himself in only his blue t-shirt and his unbuttoned fatigue pants that were slowly sliding down his waist. His hands were back upon you to search your silhouette under his rough fingertips.

He looked much smaller now – less intimidating than when he had all that equipment crowding his frame. The status of danger having now turned into something entirely foreign; just another factor to play into the hands of that white hot desire churning deep inside you.

“Come on, sweetheart. Go right ahead and touch me. See how fucking hard you make me,” Jason took hold of one of your hands and pushed it gently against his bulge. Your warm fingers slowly closed around him and squeezed carefully. He let his head back to moan. “Fuck—yes. That’s it, baby. Keep going like that.”

“Keep it down, Jason.” You hissed.

“I can’t. I really—I fucking can’t.”

You clicked your tongue disapprovingly, raising a hand to his wet panting lips. “Open up.” And he did, accepting your fingers onto his tongue. He moaned through the mouthful, muffled yet still loud. You tutted again. “God, you’re so fucking pathetic.”

Jason sputtered and whined when you slipped your other hand into his boxers and cupped him firmly, sharp bursts of breath flitting through his lips as his palms braced by the sides of your head on the wall to support his trembling legs.

“Oh—fuck,” he mumbled around your fingers, a thick thread of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. His tongue continued to suck on your skin, noisily slurping and lapping up his own saliva that was slowly running down the side of your hand. “Fuck—feels good—it feels—”

“Feels nice, sweetheart, doesn’t it?” You finished for him and he moaned his agreement, albeit much too incoherently to sound like proper syllables but his sweet little whimper that was stifled on your digits was enough answer. “Sure, it does. Look at you. So needy just from my hand.”

Your playful taunts only stirred more noises from him. He began rutting his hips into your hand, making his throbbing cock slip clumsily through your fingers. You shushed him softly as his whimpers grew constant and more high pitched.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” You cooed and he nodded fervently, his eyes sweetly round and glistening. “Of course, it is. You’re already leaking through my fucking fingers.”

He began to go on a tangent of garbled words and desperate moans, trying to speak but failing to convey anything; his rationale so far deep beneath the heavy heap of lust that his thoughts hardly strung together. But the urgency in his voice was clear.

“What is it, sweetie? Use your big boy words. You can tell me what you want.”

“I wanna cum—”

“What was that?” A feigned frown of confusion pulled at your brows as you neared your ear to his lips as if to hear better. “I didn’t quite catch that.” He whined petulantly and you shushed him again. “Come on. You can do it.”

“I wanna—I wanna cum inside you. So fucking bad. Please—Can I?”

You hummed, as if deep in thought and pondering the decision before you offered him a cheeky grin.

“Are you gonna be good?”

“Mhm, yeah—” He nodded, shifting impatiently against you. “I’ll be so good for you. I promise.”

You smirked and cocked your head. So adorably pathetic. All reason gone and replaced by that one simple objective fogging his brain.

Slowly withdrawing both of your hands from him, Jason let out a shaky sigh, rigid shoulders growing visibly relaxed as his eyes found yours, his gaze more clear and focused now. His fingers made quick to unbutton your pants, his lips returning to yours with their feverish kisses.

Once your pants slipped down your legs, he slid a middle finger along the crotch of your panties, his fingertip finding your clit through the fabric, rubbing firm tight circles over the swollen bud. You gasped, hands flying to brace against his strong shoulders as your weight grew light on your feet.

Jason pried past the slip of barrier and with small inches into your soaked folds. A choked moan rolled from his lips as your slick gathered on his skin, two thick fingers pushing with ease inside you. You plastered a hand over your mouth as a sudden moan erupted in your throat, head lolling back against the wall.

“Fuck—so wet already? Your pussy practically sucked up my fucking fingers.” He began pumping his fingers. Slow and careful. The empty tunnel echoed the obscene wet noises of your cunt. The crooked grin that grew on Jason’s face made blood rush to your ears. “Hear that? Who’s the needy pathetic one now, hmm?”

“Shut up.”

He cooed mockingly at you, lips puckering into a moue of pity. “That all you got for me? You can do better, sweetheart. Hurt me like I know you damn well want to.”

You snarled, eyes narrowed and brows drawn deep. Your hand was reaching for the back of his head then, the movement so hurried it flicked his hat off of his head. Your fingers buried tight into his soft hair. He hissed, the pressure of your grip jerking his head back and revealing the swell of his throat. He met your gaze with a scowl of his own.

“Shit—you li—shit!”

A smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth. Pulling the man closer by the hair, your lips began a descension of kisses down the span of his neck. The movement of his hand stuttered inside you the longer you went on, gasps of moans coaxing through his parted lips. A string of curses tipped off his tongue as your teeth scraped harshly across his neck, digging in and abusing the skin with every bite. You were adamant to leave your mark on him.

You only leaned away when you were wholly satisfied and could see the growing bruise that blossomed across Jason’s skin where your mouth had been. The smirk on your lips quickly parted for a moan when he resumed the movement of his fingers inside you. You covered your mouth as moan after moan bubbled up your throat. It was his turn now to leer complacently at you.

“Why go all tough on me when you’re just gonna give up that easy? It’s so fucking cute that you even try.” He buried his nose under your ear, a hand wrapping gently around your throat as he sucked your earlobe between his lips. “Wanna know what I’m gonna do to you? I’m gonna stretch you open with my big fucking cock. I’m gonna fill you up till your pretty little pussy’s dripping with my cum.”

You swallowed. Hard. A delicious shiver ran down your spine as Jason kissed your jaw and breathed a taunting chuckle into your skin. Your fingers coiled tighter in his hair and a faint growl vibrated under your ear, rousing a sharp gasp from you.

“Are you gonna just keep running your mouth like that?”

He didn’t respond. Not immediately. He guided you carefully out of your pants, kicking the heap of fabric aside with one foot before removing your panties next. He lowered to his knees, his palms cradling your hips as he peered up at you.

“You got a better use for my mouth?”

You blinked, lips fluttering wordlessly at the sight of this man knelt at the ready for you before you mustered up a proper response.

“I do now.”

A knowing smile crossed his lips as he leaned in with a sensuous kiss to your clit before sucking it loudly into his mouth. He moaned, low and delirious, his fingers digging into your skin and eyes fluttering shut. As if you had just satisfied a seething hunger deep within him and he needed a moment to savor the flavor before it disappeared.

His mouth then molded hot against you – fast and eager. His tongue fluttered along your swollen lips, lapping up your slick and gliding over your clit. Over and over. A steady rhythm that only picked up in pace.

Your fingers, once again, sunk in his hair and grabbed a fistful. He groaned between laps of his tongue as you pulled tightly at the roots, the deep sound resonating deep within your core. You struggled to rein in your moans, pushing another hand to your mouth to smother the noises that escaped much too freely, your will worsened by Jason’s breathless demands.

“Shit, baby. Fuck yourself on my tongue. You wanna use me, don’t you? Be a good girl and grind on my fucking face.”

You moaned louder through your fingers as your orgasm rose high like a rogue wave, only instances from crashing over you and swallowing you whole. You squirmed against Jason’s mouth, meeting his tongue with your cunt as he panted and downed you hungrily, pushing you closer and closer to falling through the tidal walls of your climax.

Jason whispered dirty praises into your pussy as your stifled moans rose in pitch, your breaths growing much more quick and stuttered – until you cried into your palm with the first pulses of your orgasm rippling through you like wildfire.

Your fingers flexed in his hair, your other hand pressing deeper to your mouth. The dark of the cavern turning even duller before your dazed vision as your mind only focused on the now intermittent aftershocks of your climax quivering inside you.

You let your hand fall from your face moments later. Once your thoughts slowed to an easy pace and the trembling of your body grew calm, you looked down at Jason who was now staggering soft kisses to your thighs; up – on your stomach then higher and higher – until he was in between your breasts, smearing your arousal all over your skin before his lips finally collided with yours.

His small content moan slipped into the kiss as he held your face in his long fingers, offering you kisses sweet and desperate until his gasps turned into rough groans; his leaking bulge pressing persistently into your thigh as he bucked his hips with pleading urgency to be satiated.

He hardly managed to pry himself away to speak his question, stealing kiss after heated kiss and muddying his words as he muttered against your lips with eyes shut.

“Could I—should we—can I please fuck you? I need to feel you ‘round my cock. So so fucking bad, baby. I need to feel this gorgeous pussy stretch out for me.”

“I—fuck, Jason. Just—dammit—just do it, you needy fuck.”

Jason stopped all movement. He leaned back far enough to take in your face; sweat beaded at your brow, hair disheveled and dampened against your forehead, lips parted and panting. You were truly a sight. He raised a stern brow at you despite the grin fighting to take over his face, one of his hands slowly tugging his boxers down.

“You keep giving me that attitude and see what I’ll do to you.”

You rolled your eyes, opening your mouth to throw back a gibe at him before the words withered into a shrill gasp. That was when he hoisted you on his hips with a small grunt, his large palms curling firmly into your skin. Instinctively, you hooked your legs around his waist moments before he thrusted you back against the wall and stole the air from your lungs.

Jason pressed his mouth to your ear, already pushing his hips up to yours to tease your soppy cunt with the head of his cock, giving you just the slightest taste of what was to come.

“I’ll fuck you sore, sweetheart. Don’t fucking try me.”

You clicked your tongue, noticing how Jason went stiff against you at the small sound, anticipating whatever clever remark that was going to roll off your tongue next.

“You’re all talk, Jason. All bark and no fucking bite.”

He scoffed under your ear, offering you only a false lull, leaving you waiting for his reaction with burning thrill building up deep in the pit of your stomach, as if he was planning his next move in that moment of silence that you spent trying not to squirm in his arms.

Jason lifted you silently before sitting you back down, the swollen tip of his cock prodding into your slit. Your walls clenched instinctively around him as his thick length tried to plunge deeper into you. You whimpered. God, he was so big.

“Mmm—so fucking tight—” he cut himself off with a loud gasp as you squeezed him again. “Sto—stop it. I’m gonna fucking cum already if you keep doing that.”

But you couldn’t help it. Your cunt burned and stretched, making much needed room for Jason’s size. He barely moved. And when he did, a loud moan would stop him again. You could feel him throbbing, his cock hardly even half way inside you, yet.

“Shit. Don’t think I can make it, baby—please. Just—just try to relax a bit. You’re fucking killing me.” A defeated groan escaped him. “Fuck it. Come here.”

He tugged you forward, his lips finding your neck and restarting the trail of warm kisses along your skin. His mouth teased your earlobe, his heated breaths fanning across the shell of your ear and waking goosebumps down your back.

“Touch yourself.” A vague noise of confusion caught in your throat. His kisses didn’t once let up when he spoke again. “Go ahead now.”

You slipped a tentative hand between the crammed space between your bodies until your fingers found your clit, sensitive to the touch now. You grimaced but, nevertheless, let your fingers press firmly down on yourself. Jason began whispering hoarsely against your ear.

“Start making circles ‘round that clit for me. Nice and slow. That’s it. Just like that. Good girl. Take it easy now. Don’t make yourself cum, yet.”

Your throat gripped with short piercing whines as the dull ache in your core waned into pulsating pleasure and you had to resist picking up the speed on yourself as Jason continued to guide you patiently.

You were slowly loosening up. You could feel yourself slowly sinking farther down on Jason’s cock the longer you touched yourself. He carefully tried again, sliding his cock deeper into you only to be faced with much little resistance this time.

Jason pressed his mouth to your neck to smother his moans as he began moving at a steady pace, bucking his hips up to yours and heaving a small grunt each time you glided back down on his shaft. You felt delightfully full, your walls perfectly framing his cock, easing more and more into taking more of him inside you.

He could hardly manage a word through the heavy pants that left his mouth, the praises on his tongue broken by each thrust and gasp of breath. Yet, he remained generous with them, not once neglecting to remind you how good you were doing.

“Good fucking girl—taking my cock so well. Yeah, keep—touching yourself like that.”

And you only listened and followed, bouncing up and down in Jason’s arms as he fucked himself senseless into you and your next orgasm loomed over you. A muttered succession of curses rushed through his teeth as he felt your walls tightening around him again.

“You close?” He croaked. You nodded, a soft moan punctuating your response. His voice swooped high and staggered with gasps, turning into a quivering whimper as he spoke his next words, “I can feel you fucking throbbing. Shit.”

Soon, Jason’s breaths have grown loud and erratic, his chest heaving unevenly against yours as his own orgasm approached rapidly. His pace was relentless now, his arms holding you tightly against the wall for leverage.

His moans slowly tapered into an accension of melodious whines in your ear as he finally came apart inside you, brimming you whole with his thick cum. His filling warmth was enough to propel you over with him; and you buried your face in his neck as the crushing wave of your next orgasm took hold of your body in shuddering pulses.

His pace gradually slowed, his damp forehead pressed tenderly against yours as he drank in generous gulps of air. His body trembled, breaths ragged yet finally returning to an even pace when he finally set you back down on your feet, wincing with a hiss as he freed his cock from your pussy that still gripped tightly onto him.

You could feel yourself gush with his cum when he, at last, released from you, the warm trail rushing down your thighs. Jason eyed the pale stream and swallowed, pupils visibly blowing wider again as his lip rolled back between his teeth, his cock already reacting to the sight. But he shook his head and smiled softly at you, raising his chin to look at you with a newfound admiration in his eyes.

“That was crazy…” you muttered, voice roiled with a breathy chuckle, already reaching for your pants on the ground. “Good crazy?” You heard him ask as you began to dress and you offered a simple but jovial “mhm-hmm”, peeking over your shoulder to smile at him.

You craned your neck to peer over the slope of the precipice at where the vampire once was only to find the corpse to be now on its own.

“Looks like it got bored and left.” You remarked, finishing fastening your vest.

Jason stepped up beside you, now fully clothed and his arms cradling his rifle once again, and followed the path of your gaze down the opening of the cave. You heard him hum dryly and when you turned to look at him, a pursed smile was on his flushed lips.

“Let’s hope it stays that way. Come on. Let’s move.” he said curtly, his tone loud and demanding as if he was speaking to his subordinate soldier; already walking ahead of you to the edge of the cliff. He paused momentarily to turn his shoulder and address you again. “Stay close. You got a weapon—besides that knife right there?” He waved a hand at the glinting blade that flipped absentmindedly between your fingers.

Your silence was all the answer he needed to reach for his holster and brandish his pistol, twirling it on a finger before handing it to you handle first. A courteous smile adorned his lips as you took the gun and cocked it, taking the cue to lead the way out of the tunnel.

You followed close behind, cautioned eyes watching for movements in the shadows until you made it into an opening – a vast room of debris. Up ahead in the darkness of yet another cavern came rushing two orbs of pale light and a set of hurried footsteps. Jason quickly turned to you to say something but it was already too late for any assurances.

You cowered back a few steps, gun clutched tightly as two American soldiers hastened into the dull light of the vicinity; one of them – you assumed to be the leader – immediately demanded for you to drop your weapon but you held your ground with a scowl.

Jason stood between you and his comrades, arms raised and shielding you from their assaulting barrels. As if he could protect you from the bullets once they came soaring at you.

“Hey, hey, hey! Calm down. She’s with me.” He tried to pacify the tension but to no avail.

The fair-haired man didn’t yield, only lifting his head slightly to address Jason with a curt tone. “With all due respect, Lieutenant, we can’t let an enemy soldier walk freely when we have bigger issues at hand. Tell her to drop her gun or I’ll shoot.”

Jason looked back at you, utterly defeated. His wide eyes glowed dully, mouth hanging agape with unspoken words. He then heaved a sigh, shaking his head as a dirty look crossed his face.

“Fucking shit—fine! I’ll take care of her.”

“What—”

His glared turned to you and you swallowed back your complaint, your fingers growing loose on the pistol. He accepted the coil of rope from the other soldier before walking closer to you, another hand stretching out and beckoning the gun in your hands with a twist of his fingers.

Perplexed and frustrated, you dropped the weapon on the man’s palm and watched it slide back inside his holster. He circled you, taking your arm and pressing it close to the other before wrapping the rope around your wrists.

Panic simmered deep in your chest even though your face showed otherwise. You gritted your teeth, fingers flexing into fists against your back.

Jason’s fingers brushed past your shoulder blade. You would assume it was merely accidental until you noticed the lingering warmth of his skin over your shirt. As the two other Americans turned to walk away, Jason leaned into your neck, his whisper against your ear raising goosebumps along your back once again.

“I won’t let ‘em lay a finger on you. You’re my responsibility.”

You released a long sigh. “How romantic of you.”

“Can’t help it,” you could hear the grin in his voice – and his warm breath on your neck before his lips pressed a slow kiss to your skin. “I’m a damn good lover.”

⛓️❤️‍🔥 Taglist!

@kassiekolchek22 @yellowroses-world @house-of-kolchek @yeslieutenant @katsufairies @ptichkayago @gaypanic1 @wadiyatalkinabeetmate.

#jason kolchek x reader #jason kolchek x you #jason kolchek x y/n #house of ashes jason #jason kolchek

167 notes · View notes

bubblesreplies · 2 years ago

Text

A Wish In The Dark // Eleven

Jason Kolchek X Female Reader

A/N: alright guys, I am super excited about this chapter. I'm told the dark mode issue is fixed but if it isn't, I'm so sorry and it looks normal in light mode :(. this one is pretty long, but I hope you still enjoy it because things are moving along now. Please leave me comments and all of the thoughts because...guys... this ending? you're welcome. That is all. (except also PLEASE mind the tags. PLEASE.)

WARNINGS AND TAGS: NSFW 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI, domestic violence NOT BY JASON, domestic abuse NOT BY JASON, choking NOT BY JASON, reader has unhealthy coping mechanisms, bad friends, ex-boyfriends, reader lashing out, insecure!reader, reader needs therapy, cussing, dancing around feelings, lots of confessions happening right now, teasing!Jason, cocky!Jason, protective!Jason, Jason beats a man up, PTSD, trauma, domestic!Jason, police involved in this chapter, graphic depictions of panic attacks, picking a fight because you're scared, unhealthy mannerisms, sharing a bed, poor safety choices but please don't victim blame here, dark!Jason, scarily protective!Jason, fighting, violence, spitting in somebody's face, abusers using twisted logic, gaslighting, manipulation, putting somebody in harm's way purposefully, betrayal, toxic friendships, love confessions, Jason yelling at people, making out, ass-grabbing, pelvic thrusting,

Word Count: 11k

Wish Masterlist, Jason Masterlist, Main Masterlist

Previous Chapter ~ Next Chapter

Somewhere I Belong

“Wow. You exist.”

You snorted, but avoided Jason’s eyes as you exited your room, making a mental note that he must have just gotten back home. He smelled slightly like alcohol, and a lot like his sweat, and you wondered just what he was out all night doing this time.

Or who he was doing.

You winced at yourself as you pulled your refrigerator door open, snagging a Monster and popping up the tab, ignoring Jason’s annoyed sigh. It was ridiculous for you to be jealous—he’d finally made some friends around town, mostly at your school where he now worked with Allie—but you knew that he still had a fondness for you. You just…wondered, you supposed. Wondered if now that he had friends and a life outside of you, if he would also meet someone who wasn’t you. If maybe, the only reason he’d liked you in the first place—or you thought he liked you—was simply because you were the only available girl in his vicinity.

It had been two weeks since your performance, and the two of you had hardly seen each other. Between your late nights with midterms coming around the corner, Jason working during the day and occasionally going out with his friends at night, it was hard to touch on what your relationship was now. Were you still fake dating? Were you anything at all? Jason had always invited you when he went out, and you’d gone once or twice, but lately you were holed up in your room studying as if your life depended on it.

“Midterms are important, Jason,” you hissed back at him, with much more malice than you’d been originally intending. You turned to him then with a frown and crossed arms, daring him to piss you off even more than you already were. Even if you logically had no reason to be pissed off. “You can’t expect me to just fucking blow them off and spend every waking moment partying with you.”

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes, knowing you well enough now to see right through your uncaring facade. “That ain’t fair,” he responded, pushing himself off of the couch and making his way over to you, cornering you by the fridge and wrapping his hand around your energy drink, setting it down onto the counter behind him. “And it’s ten p.m., baby; not a great idea.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you sneered back, reaching back around him and snatching the Monster once again. Jason shot you a disapproving look, but made no move to take it back again. Instead, he sighed, reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“That ain’t fair, either,” Jason insisted, and you frowned as he pulled you in with his arms around your waist, knowing he was right. “You know I wouldn’t ever try to tell you what to do; and I wasn’t partyin’ tonight. I went out with some guys to the gym.”

“With alcohol?”

“And we had a few beers,” Jason finished with a knowing smile, pressing a kiss to your forehead and nuzzling his nose against yours. He hadn’t kissed you anywhere for two weeks—both of you hardly seeing each other the past two weeks—and you wondered if this was it. If he was finally going to kiss you kiss you now—but he didn’t. “It would’ve been better if you were there.”

You snorted. “Yeah. Sure. I’m sure you pulled your fair share of hotter, fit girls at the stupid gym.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Jason exclaimed, pulling slightly away from you so that he could look at your face, keeping his hands planted steadily on your waist. He had an incredulous expression painted on his face and his shock made you look away from the guilt, the reality of how abrupt and strange your outburst must have seemed to him settling over you. “What’s that all about?!

“Nothing,” you lied uneasily, unaware that your nose was scrunching and your face was pulling up into a pout that, if Jason wasn’t so worred about how pissed you seemed to be at him, he would have found adorable.

“No, it ain’t nothin’,” Jason argued, reaching an arm out to corner you as you pulled out of his grasp and tried to leave. “And I’m sick of dancin’ around whatever the fuck I did, ‘cause you’ve been actin’ pissy for the last two weeks.”

“Wow, Jason, how sweet of you,” you deadpanned, but you and he both knew it was only a tactic to get him to shut up and drop it—and that it wasn’t working. You tried to work your way through him, but he grabbed your waist, his brown eyes concerned and even slightly annoyed. You stopped, looking up at him with a frown as you tried to hide the guilt from your eyes, knowing that you were being completely irrational.

“C’mon, Y/n.” Jason’s voice was significantly softer now, and he reached out to push your hair behind your ear, kissing your forehead again—and as he pulled away, you noticed that his eyes were wide and definitively worried. “What did I do these past few weeks to make you this upset, Y/n? What changed?”

You took a deep breath and winced, sinking further into the warmth and comfort that always was Jason Kolchek. The truth of the matter was, you were embarrassed. Actually, completely mortified. Because how could you sit here and say, actually, I’m just fucking seething with a raging jealousy; because now, I’m not the only single woman in your life and you’re probably going to figure out—if you haven’t figured it out, already—that there are plenty of other more beautiful, more normal women who you’d probably much rather be with.

Yeah, no fucking way you could say that to Jason. You just couldn’t. It sounded…crazy, and what would you even be doing if you admitted that to him? You’d be handing your true feelings over on a silver platter, and that would be giving him the upper hand in this situation. Not to mention, you weren’t even sure that he felt the same way as you. If he did, and if you were certain of it, you’d probably just bite the bullet and tell him how you were feeling.

“Nothing,” you insisted, but you could feel your resolve weakening. Jason raised an eyebrow at you and you huffed back, but made no move to pull away as he encircled his arms around your waist, one hand cupping your cheek and pushing hair away from your eyes. “Just—forget about it, alright?”

“You and I both know that ain’t gonna happen,” Jason answered with a large, amused smile, your eyes wandering over to his dimple as they always did. “So, once again, Y/n, what’s wrong and how can I fix it?”

You sighed in defeat, shaking your head, before gathering the courage to look up into his kind, concerned eyes. With a gulp, you said, “You have a job now, Jason, and—and friends. And you see them a lot.”

“Oh,” Jason responded instantly, unknowingly cutting off the second and more embarrassing part of your admission. His brow furrowed as he thought over your words and you waited for him to speak. “And I’m spending too much time going out with my friends?”

“No, absolutely not,” you refuted immediately, wincing as you realized just how much of an idiot you sounded. How silly your fears actually were. “I just—it’s—before, you only knew me, and now you know…other girls, and, I don’t know—maybe now you’ll meet another girl who is prettier, or tougher, or just more your type, you know? And you didn’t actually like me because I’m me, but because I was your only option.”

Now that the words were out, you actually felt relieved, like somehow telling Jason had actually been the weight you were carrying and not the fear itself. At least, you felt relieved before you heard Jason’s reaction; a loud, bellowing laugh.

Offended, you pushed him away, crossing your arms over your chest and taking a few steps away from him. “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything,” you grumbled, glaring harder at him when you saw that he was still smiling, amusedly, back at you. “It’s not like we’re real dating so it’s so fucking stupid, right?”

Your final words were laced with sarcasm and it seemed to register with Jason immediately, and you watched his face fall. You walked away and he instantly followed you around the counter, catching you fron behind the waist this time and wrapping his arms around your middle, his face nuzzling into your cheek.

“Wait, baby, no!” Jason’s voice came out as a beg and it caused you to pause, just for a moment. “Y/n, I wasn’t laughin’ at you, sweetheart. It’s just that—and no offense, baby—but that idea is completely ridiculous.”

You wriggled out of his grasp and turned around to look at him with a pout, ignoring his more-than-amused smile. Your arms were crossed over your chest again, and he tucked a stray hair behind your ear, letting his hand drop as he shook his head back at you, fondness lying inside his eyes as he stared at you.

“Look, sweetheart, it ain’t like you were keepin’ me hostage here,” Jason sighed, taking a step back as a redness colored his face. You wondered what he was embarrassed about, and desperately hoped that he was about to tell you. “I was free to leave whenever I wanted from the beginning of this little arrangement—and it’s not like I didn’t have access to bars, or clubs, or even the internet—and, other women, baby. But, believe it or not, Y/n, you ain’t actually the worst company in the world. Did’ya ever stop and think that just maybe I choose to stay here and spend my time with you, sweetheart? That maybe I actually do prefer your company? And that maybe I think you’re motherfuckin’ beautiful? That maybe—just maybe, Y/n—you are exactly my fuckin’ type?!”

You were stunned silent, standing frozen and rooted to your spot as your wide eyes and gaping jaw stared back up at Jason’s face, which had softened into a warm, comforting smile as he lifted his hand back up to stroke your cheekbones with his thumbs.

“W-what?” You stuttered, unable to form any real thoughts or words as Jason’s admission bounced around your head wildly, unrelenting, unwilling to give you any rest from his truth.

That maybe—just maybe—you are exactly my type?

Jason chuckled again and leaned in so close to you that you could feel his breath on your lips.

“Y’heard me, princess,” Jason whispered, his arms on the counter behind you, trapping your body, your chests nearly pressed together and his lips so, so close to being where you’d wanted them for longer than you’d care to admit. His eyes roamed over your face until they locked on your lips, and you watched as he ran his tongue over his own lips, eyes steady and unwavering on your mouth. “You really ain’t the worst company when you’re not being obnoxious.”

You gasped and Jason laughed heartily, not even the least bit offended when you teasingly shoved him away. His eyes moved from your lips to your eyes, and there was a teasing, happy glint within them that alone melted your anxieties away.

“Shut up and go shower,” you hissed back without any bite, your lips upturned in a smile as Jason grinned back at you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head with a wink, leaving you flushing and speechless as he hurried off to the bathroom. The domesticity of it all—and Jason’s admission that he did, indeed, like you—left you feeling dizzy and giddy, a large smile stuck to your face as you shoved your energy drink back into the fridge, cuddling up instead with a hot chocolate and a large blanket on the couch.

I can take a tiny break from studying tonight, you reasoned with yourself, a content sigh pushing past your lips as you smiled to yourself. I can hangout—for a bit.

You waited, warm and cozy and happy, underneath your blanket as Jason showered, knowing exactly how he’d smell when he came out. That woodsy soap he used made you absolutely feral and tonight, you were certain there would be no holding back anymore. The two of you were crossing a line, slowly, and you were finally ready to take the plunge to the other side with him.

You were just contemplating changing into something a little sexier and dabbing on some perfume when there was a knock at your door. Checking the time—it was nearing eleven p.m.---you rose from the couch, abandoning your warm spot on the couch and cautiously making your way over to the door. You could still hear the sounds of Jason’s shower, the water probably still running down over his body, as you stood in front of your apartment door. You tugged your sweater down and rolled down the sleeves, creeping up onto your tiptoes to check the peephole.

You couldn’t make out anything but pitch black, and your veins ran cold, your blood feeling like ice flowing through your limbs. You took a step back to clear your head, and weighed your options.

Nobody but a handful of people knew where you lived, so at this hour, it was likely Derek and/or Allie at the door. The only other people who knew where your apartment was actually located, aside from you and Jason, were your mom and Chrissy. You knew your mom wouldn’t set foot inside of your apartment, but it could be Chrissy, probably back with some bullshit.

Annoyed at just the thought, you snarled, throwing open the door before you could really second guess yourself. You looked up at the person’s face—expecting your brother to be standing there with some news or something—but you were horribly, horribly wrong.

And if you thought your blood had run ice cold before, it was fucking frozen in place now.

“Y/n,” he greeted. Him. Dylan. My ex-boyfriend who almost—he’s back, he—how did he find me? What is he doing here? How does he know where I live? “Wow, your hair—it’s so different now. You look amazing.”

Panicked and unaware of how to proceed, you tried to hurriedly to shut the door, but his foot blocked it, a smile on his face as he chuckled. His jet-black hair and diamond blue eyes—eyes you had once fallen so far into that you’d nearly drowned—were so familiar and terrifying that you ached, desperate to get away, to get him away.

Cold, so cold. Blood spilling out onto the carpet. Your life, ended, at his hands—

“Hey now, I know this might come as sort of a shock baby, but you don’t need to shut me out again,” Dylan chided, but you kept your hand tight on the door, afraid that he was going to bust his way in and finish off what he’d started years ago. Afraid that in mere seconds, you’d be back in that hospital, and maybe this time, nobody would be able to save you.

“Don’t,” you managed to choke out, hands tight on the door, both of you pushing against each other as he attempted to force his way in and you attempted to keep him out. “Don’t you fucking call me that, you bastard.”

“Wow, still keeping up with the name-calling?” Dylan looked genuinely offended, like he’d thought you’d be giving him a warm welcome. “That hurts, Y/n, don’t you know that by now?”

“It hurts?” You shot back, afraid, but unwilling to stand down. “As much as multiple broken ribs? Or black eyes? Or nearly being strangled to death?”

You were playing with motherfucking fire but you didn’t care. You needed to show him—he needed to know—you weren’t that same terrified, fragile woman anymore. You could stand up for yourself now. You would fight back now.

Dylan’s face twisted in agony—a trick you’d seen many, many times before—and he took a step closer, successfully garnering his way into the apartment. He’d always been much stronger than me, physically. You gulped and took multiple steps near the kitchen, towards the knives, in case things escalated.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Dylan apologized, and even now that you knew all of his machinations, his voice almost convinced you that he meant it. Almost. “If I could take it all back, I would—I had so many issues, baby, but I’m better now—”

“I said don’t call me that,” you hissed back at him, backing up so far that your back hit the counter. Dylan’s eyebrows quirked, like it was funny, and you needed to turn back the tables and take the offensive. Straightening up with a snarl, you said, “Why the fuck are you even here? How the fuck do you know where I live?!”

“I told you, I’ve changed,” Dylan responded, taking a step closer to you. You clutched the counter, eyeing the glimmer in his eyes that you knew could change on a dime. “I miss you so much—you were so good to me, baby. Please—all I want is another chance.”

“To kill me?” You shrieked, and you were clutching the counter so hard that your hands were turning white and a few of your fingernail tips were breaking.

“Don’t be like that,” Dylan chastised, and you noticed the edge in his voice—a tell of his, that he was starting to get past the point of irritated, starting to move into the danger zone. “Please, I promise you, this time I’ll be different. I miss you, my mom misses you, and I know what I lost baby.” Dylan took a step closer to you and you held your breath as he placed his palm on your cheek, cold hands stroking you as you tried not to burst into tears. “And I have it on good authority that you miss me, too—”

“Get out,” you commanded, pushing him away by the chest with both of your hands and crossing over to the door, hastily opening it back up. “Get the hell out of here Dylan, and don’t fucking come back. Ever.”

You watched as Dylan’s face changed from soft to hard, begging to fixed, and you blanched, fully prepared to scream, to fight, to do whatever you had to do.

“C’mon Y/n, be reasonable here,” Dylan pleaded, a wicked smile crossing his lips, sure he’d be getting his way. “How much more do I have to beg? How many more times are you going to make me apologize? I told you I was sorry.”

“Apologize all you want,” you deadpanned, clutching the doorknob and jerking your head to the open door. “I’ll never believe you. Never again.” Dylan’s smile turned into an agitated frown and you felt yourself blanch, despite your protestations to just be brave.

“Come on,” Dylan begged as he drew nearer to you, but you could see his jaw clenched and his eyes fiery with anger. “Can’t we just go out for a minute, go on a walk, and talk this all over? I’ve been to therapy, I’ve changed, and I still love you, Y/n.”

“No, absolutely not,” you insisted harshly, pulling away once again from his touch and rushing towards the living room, feeling like a mouse caught in a trap. “I don’t give a fuck if you’ve changed, I don’t care if you’ve gone to therapy—all I care about is you getting the fuck out of my house,” you admitted, and it was then that you realized that your hands were shaking, and you probably weren’t very convincing. Dylan scoffed, and smiled, and he was advancing towards you when you started screaming.

“OUT! GET OUT! GETOUTGETOUTGETOUT—”

“Y/n?!”

Jason’s voice is what broke you out of your fear-filled trance, reminding you that you weren’t alone here—that you weren’t as unsafe as your PTSD led you to believe. With wide eyes, your head whipped towards the hallway and there he was, Jason, rushing towards you, wearing nothing but wet, wet hair and a pale blue towel wrapped around his waist. You were so motherfucking terrified that you couldn’t even allow yourself to enjoy the view.

Jason seemed to be assessing the situation—you had to hand it to him, he was observant and much smarter than he looked—and he reached you quickly, stepping protectively in front of you as he took Dylan in, up and down, no doubt wondering just who the fuck he was and why he had you so on edge by just his presence. He was studying him too, you noticed, as if Dylan could ever even compare to the marvel that was Jason Kolchek.

“What’s goin’ on here?” Jason questioned, calm and collected, even though he must have suspected that anybody who could make you scream like that and be so frightened was somebody who warranted heavy suspicion. “There some sort of problem here, man?”

“No, sorry bro,” Dylan answered with a faux smile, the one that fooled so many people. The oh-so-charming one that let him walk away with you without any suspicion from the general public. “No problem; I just need to speak to Y/n for a minute, alright?”

Jason looked down at you then, at your eyes—wide, petrified, tear-stricken. All you had to do was simply shake your head back at him and he understood, his own jaw clenching and taking on an even more protective stance as he turned back to your ex.

“Yeah, I don’t think so, man,” Jason responded, nodding towards the door. “Think it’s time for you to leave.” You could tell by the way that Dylan’s smile barely faltered that this wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but he was still trying to play up the charm. Still trying to make himself look innocent.

“Alright, well, can I come back then, Y/n? I really think that we need to talk—I really need you to hear what I have to say, baby,” Dylan responded and you bristled, noticing the way that Jason stiffened in confusion beside you.

“I told you to stop calling me that,” you insisted, your voice low and angry. “I’m not your ‘baby,’ I’m not your girlfriend—I’m not your anything. Don’t come back here. Leave, and don’t come back here!”

Your voice was no longer bordering hysterical, it was there, and Jason took that as his cue to grab Dylan’s arm and personally escort him to the door.

“Time to go, man,” Jason growled and Dylan twisted around to stare at you with a snarl.

“Oh yeah?” He chided, nodding towards you. “If she didn’t want to see me so badly, then why the fuck did she let me in, then?” Jason didn’t take the bait, his hand tightening around Dylan’s arm as he glanced back at you, halfway to the front door.

“Is that so?” Jason laughed, shoving Dylan through the doorway. “Let’s just see about that then, buddy; you invite him in, Y/n?”

All you could do was shake your head, but Jason turned to see it, his gaze hardening as he looked back at your scumbag of an ex-boyfriend. “Did’ya ask him to leave?” Jason asked, his voice conveying that he already knew the answer to that question.

“Multiple times,” you choked out and Jason shoved him even harder, the anger palpable through the rigidity that he was currently holding within his body.

“Sounds like she asked you to leave,” Jason taunted, “So leave.”

“And just who the fuck do you think that you are?!” Dylan hissed back and Jason laughed out loud, efficiently blocking the doorway and your view of the man who had almost taken your life. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m her boyfriend,” Jason responded and you moved close enough to see Dylan’s face fall, turning white. “Now get out of my fuckin’ house!”

You saw Dylan shake his head, a muttered, “Stupid little slut,” under his breath as he turned and left, apparently realizing that if it came down to it, he couldn’t take Jason in a fight. Jason shut and bolted the door before he turned to you, rushing back to your side eagerly as his hands came to your face, one on your neck and one on your cheek.

“Sweetheart, are you—are you alright?”

You couldn’t even muster the strength to answer—your heart was still beating so wildly that you were certain it was going to burst out of your chest. If you didn’t have a heart attack first.

“Y/n, what’s wrong? Who the hell was that?” Jason tried again, and you leaned into his comfort, not even thinking about the fact that he was practically naked. You couldn’t really think about anything right now.

“Dylan,” you responded numbly, your voice monotone as you felt yourself emotionally shut down, your mind and body attempting to prevent you from the trauma. “My ex-boyfriend. It was a…” Your mind could barely form the words; how could you tell Jason who this was? How could you tell him that this man almost killed you?! “...bad breakup.”

“No,” Jason argued, pulling you into him by the waist and holding you close. You should’ve known that he could read you and your lies like a fucking book. “No fuckin’ way that’s all it is baby. I’m sorry, but your reaction is way too extreme to just be an ex-boyfriend.”

“He—no, he just—”

“Please, just—just tell me what happened sweetheart,” Jason begged, and you shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks. “You can trust me with anything, Y/n, you know that—right?”

Of course—of course you knew that. And you did; you trusted Jason more than you trusted anyone but you just…couldn’t do this right now. You couldn’t—you couldn’t do this. Not here, not now. You couldn’t relive this right now.

“Fuck, Jason, just—just let it go,” you whined, clutching your head as you pulled away from him, allowing the tears to overtake your eyes and your throat. “Please don’t ask me. Don’t ask me again.”

“Sweetheart, I just want to help—”

“I said don’t ask me again!” You shrieked, whipping back around and staring Jason down, your breaths coming in hurried pants as you felt the panic attack begin to overtake you. Your airway was closing up, your body was shaking, you were dizzy. If you had to bet, you’d bet that there were tears streaming down your face, even though you couldn’t feel them falling.

Fuck, you needed to ground yourself. What had your therapist taught you?

Five things you can see, four things you can feel, three things you can smell, two things you can hear, one thing you can taste.

Jason. Jason’s pale blue towel. His fucking sexy brown hair, dripping wet. His eight? Wow, yeah eight-pack. His large, brown eyes, looking me over with concern.

I can feel my sweater. I can feel the ground beneath my feet. I can feel my hair against my neck. I can feel the rings on my fingers that I haven’t taken off in years.

I can smell Jason’s shampoo—his farmboy, woodsy shit that I can never get out of my head. I can smell last night’s pasta. I can smell my own sweat from my lack of a shower for a few days.

I hear Jason saying my name, softly. I hear my own breathing beginning to slow down.

I can taste the bile, returning back into my stomach where it belongs.

“I’m sorry,” you said once you’d calmed down, taking a deep breath and allowing Jason to approach you. He did, his hands hanging by his side as he tentatively looked up at you from under his wet hair, unsure of what to do next. “I just—I need to calm down. I can’t talk about this right now, I—I need to go to bed now.”

“With me?”

Jason’s voice was so hopeful but so quiet—almost as if he’d never spoken at all. Your heart filled with such an overwhelming warmth and giddiness that even if you’d wanted to, you weren’t sure you could have turned him down.

“Please,” you whispered back, and Jason’s lips lifted up into a smile as he followed you to the bedroom—where he already kept his clothes, anyways—and you turned around with your eyes shut tight, letting him change, afraid of what you might do if you saw him. All of him.

Jason seemed to know what you were thinking because he smirked when he came into your line of sight, fully clothed, and you scowled at him, ignoring the way his eyes seemed to light up at the unspoken confrontation. Silently, the two of you crawled into bed and you fell asleep with his arms around you, his lips resting gently on your neck without ever kissing you at all.

* * * * *

Someone was watching you.

You thought.

You were pretty certain.

You also could have just been extra paranoid by your surprise visitor the night before, but you really didn’t think so. You could feel it, somebody’s eyes burning a hole into the back of your head. In each of your classes, in the hallways, in the parking lot.

You were scared; but you had Jason on speed-dial, and your fingers were already ready to go in the case of an emergency. You knew that, should the need arise, he wouldn’t waste any time in getting to you—work be damned.

You tried to calm yourself down, but still, the feeling of being followed wouldn’t leave you alone.

Which is why you shouldn’t have been so surprised when you felt his dangerously cold hands wrap around your neck.

“Did you miss me, baby?” Dylan asked as he whipped you around a dark corner, shoving you up against a nearby wall roughly, his hand never leaving its place on your throat. He pushed up against you harder and you gasped out a little breath of air, your eyes wide and terrified as you realized that the two of you were alone. No people, no cars, no streetlights. Not in this parking lot, and not this late at night.

In retrospect, not your smartest move.

“You know, it wasn’t very nice for you to let that asshole kick me out the other night,” Dylan pouted, and he had one hand on your waist while the other was still firmly pushed around your throat. If he applied even the slightest bit more pressure, you wouldn’t be able to breathe.

I know what that feels like.

“Not when you and I both know you don’t want him, you want me. Right baby?”

Your face contorted into a strangled glare as you attempted to kick him, but it was no use. He was much stronger than you, and he had you pinned. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words came out jumbled and choked, his hand suppressing your airway enough that you couldn’t even speak.

“What’s that, baby?” Dylan asked, easing up on your throat—just a little bit.

You took the moment to snarl at him, spit in his face, and say, “I don’t want you and I will never want you, you abusive piece of shit!”

You’d known it was a risk to be so aggressive, but you’d forgotten what it felt like to lose your last string of breath, to have black spots invade your vision, until Dylan used his full force against your neck and you lost all sense of air, your hands winding around his arm as you tried desperately to pull him away from you.

You tried to do anything—to kick, or thrash, or even scream—but all three attempts were unsuccessful. Dylan clearly didn’t appreciate your attempts to escape, as his hand tightened even more around your neck and you began to gag, the light stars at the edges of your vision the only thing you could see.

“Please,” Dylan scoffed, his hold loosening on your throat and allowing you a bit of air, your vision clearing on his sadistic, disgusting face. “If you really didn’t want me, then why would you have kept coming back to me—over and over and over again—and let me keep beating and beating and beating you? Only someone who really loves me would do that—be so fucking weak and pathetic, all for me?” You didn’t even have the strength to gag at his disgusting words, his twisted logic, even though every fibre of your being wanted to. In fact, your body barely reacted until he uttered his next admission.

“I know you love me—you don’t have to deny it anymore. Chrissy told me.”

Your eyes widened and shock coursed through your system at his words; Chrissy told him?! The same Chrissy who watched you be hit? Who helped you out of it? Who hid you, and cried with you, and called the police with you?

No. No, even she wouldn’t do that.

“Chrissy?” You managed to squeak out and Dylan nodded, a laugh on the tip of his lips as they spread across his face, mean, cheshire-like. Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach at his admission and you could no longer tell whether the tears in the corners of your eyes were from lack of air, or betrayal.

“Chrissy,” Dylan confirmed and if you could have gasped, you just might have. “Called me up the other day, told me how you still felt about me. How do you think I found you?”

The damning realization hit you like a ton of bricks and you thought you might have managed to gasp this time, or at the very least, you let out a small, nearly silent sob. Dylan’s voice barely registered in your brain, the reality of what Chrissy had done to you still reverberating around your head, unable to truly stick due to your unwillingness to accept the harsh truth.

“Now I’m going to give you one more chance to answer honestly—do you still love me, Y/n? Or do you love him?”

You knew he had to be talking about Jason. He had clearly rattled Dylan’s ego yesterday, and you assumed that it was what was causing his rage right now—a rage you’d seen all too often with him. Often enough that you knew it was only going to get worse from here.

Dylan had always seen you as a possession; a pathetic, feeble little thing that he could always get to come back to him, no matter how horribly he treated you. Now that you had taken the upper hand and left him, and then found somebody else to be with, he couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t handle the fact that his poor little bird wasn’t flying back to his coop anymore.

That fact made you mad; madder than you’d ever been. Mad at Dylan, mad at Chrissy, mad at yourself for not paying closer attention to your surroundings. For not going straight to the police when Dylan had shown up on your doorstep last night. For not listening to Jason this morning when he’d begged you to do just that.

Dylan loosened his grip tremendously, but still not enough for you to make any sort of escape—which you guessed was the point.

“I don’t love you,” you growled back at him, your voice already sounding hoarse and broken from the force of his hands. You didn’t care if you sounded weak to him anymore; you knew better now. You weren’t weak, and you would never be weak, ever again. “I will never love you, ever, again!”

Dylan’s face twisted and turned into an ugly, desperate, wounded scowl; your words had hurt him, and maybe somewhere deep down, he knew what he was doing was wrong. That he was a disgusting piece of shit. Maybe; but it certainly wasn’t your job to see that through. Not anymore.

Dylan’s hands returned with full force on your neck but you fought back this time, able to gain some headway as you kicked back against him, loosening his grip slightly. You took the opportunity to kick your flailing legs towards his crotch, and you knew that you had struck your mark when Dylan gasped out in pain and accidentally released you, your body hitting the cold, concrete floor as you gasped desperately for the breath that was rushing back into your system much too quickly.

You knew you didn’t have a moment to waste and so you didn’t waste any, getting to your feet and hitting the ground running as fast as your legs were physically able to take you. You knew that he was hot on your heels but you couldn’t bear to turn back and check, only focusing on moving forward and finding your car, or another person, or any form of escape at all.

You knew you were fucked when you hit a dead end, running into a corner that you knew students sometimes frequented—except for, apparently, right now, because it was deserted. Your body whipped around and you saw Dylan, advancing on you much closer than you’d thought he was, and with an angry, spiteful smile on his face. You whimpered in fear, pushing yourself farther into the corner as you attempted to put as much distance as you could between you and him.

“What, you thought you could actually outrun me?” Dylan taunted with a laugh and a shake of his head. You were shaking and you were trapped now, knowing that you had absolutely nowhere else to go. You’d never be able to run past him without him grabbing you, and there was nobody else here.

This was it this time.

“After what I did to you the last time that I saw you?” Dylan chuckled, as if you were the stupidest person in the entire world. Maybe you were. “Oh Y/n, you stupid fucking idiot, you. It was always meant to be this way; you were always meant to be submissive to me. You are my inferior half, Y/n, and the sooner you accept it—the easier it will be for you.”

You opened your mouth to bite back—if you died here, at least you’d die knowing you didn’t give him the fucking satisfation—but your words caught in your throat when you suddenly saw something. A flash of movement, from behind Dylan in the distance.

Someone running—someone running up to you. And gaining traction quite fast.

It took less than a minute for you to realize that it was Jason—and you gasped, your eyes alighting with hope just as Dylan was about to reach you. Dylan noticed the change and smiled, shaking his head as he grabbed your wrists and pinned them against the wall.

“That joy for me, baby?” He was smug, like he really thought that you had accepted him beating the ever-loving shit out of you. “If so, then you have no fucking idea what’s coming—”

Jason’s fist to the side of his head cut off his words, and his grip on your wrists. Dylan fell to the ground, clutching his head, and you locked eyes with Jason for a split second, your heart pounding harder than you’d ever felt it beat before. You ran to his side and he pulled you into him, looking at you with a strange mix of fear, anger, and relief. He didn’t say anything to you as he pushed you behind him and reared back on Dylan, the back of his body the only thing you could see as he kicked your ex back to the ground.

“Y/n, call the police.” Jason’s voice was deeper than usual, low, and shaky. Like he were trying to hold back just how angry he was—trying to hold back just what he wanted to do to Dylan. “Tell them that you have a restrainin’ order that’s been broken, and tell them exactly what he did to you and where we are. And tell them to send an ambulance.”

“But I don’t need—” your voice was still hoarse and Jason turned around with worried eyes when he heard how awful you sounded. “I don’t need an ambulance.”

Jason swallowed and turned back to Dylan, his voice something different, something feral when he said, “It’s not for you.”

You whipped out your phone and frantically dialed 911, hearing Jason’s voice in the background as he pinned Dylan to the ground, his knee to his throat as he took Dylan’s breath away—just like Dylan had taken yours.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“I need—I need police! And—and maybe an ambulance. At the Smith parking garage; my ex-boyfriend attacked me, I have a restraining order against him.”

“If you ever fuckin’ come near her ever again—if you ever touch her, or even think about touchin’ her— I promise you right here and right now, I will fuckin’ kill you,” Jason threatened lowly. You stood off to the side a little bit away, and you stared at Jason; his jaw was clenched and his hands were balled up into fists, clutching onto Dylan’s shirt as he slammed him into the ground, digging his knee even farther into his throat.

“You’re lucky she’s here right now, or I would fuckin’ end you, you abusive piece of shit!” Jason’s voice was irate, indignant, and you could see in Dylan’s eyes just how scared he was suddenly. He no longer held any control, no longer felt powerful; no, now he was pinned, and alone, and weak, and the consequences of his actions were upon him.

Finally. Finally, you could breathe. Finally, you felt…hopeful.

“Police are on their way; are you hurt ma’am?”

“A little, he—he choked me, but my current boyfriend is here now and he’s restraining him.”

“You’re damn lucky I ain’t a motherfuckin’ lowlife pile of horseshit like you, ‘cause if I was, I’d beat you senseless,” Jason growled, and now that you drew nearer, you could see he was only holding him down—with enough pressure to hurt him, but not enough to seriously wound him. “No, I ain’t gonna stoop down to your level, asshole; I ain’t ever gonna do anything as fucked as you. You know why? ‘Cause I would never hurt Y/n. And I sure as hell ain’t gonna scare her, either.”

Jason leaned down close to Dylan’s face and Dylan was gasping for breath, his blue eyes wide and darting around, terrified, as if there were someone around that would help him.

But there was only you.

“But listen here close you fuckin’ douchebag; I promise you, if you ever come around again, ever, I will walk back on my own fuckin’ words gladly and I will kill you myself.”

“Is your boyfriend hurting your ex-boyfriend?”

“No, ma’am, just—he’s just keeping him away from me.”

It wasn’t a lie, Jason wasn’t hurting Dylan. All he was doing was keeping him pinned to the ground, keeping him away from you, and making sure that Dylan knew that Jason was much, much stronger than him.

It was only seconds later that the police finally showed up, and everything began to happen in a blurred haze. Dylan was cuffed and taken away—the police had figured out pretty quickly that Jason hadn’t done anything wrong here—and you were put in the ambulance, being checked over by paramedics while Jason paced nervously nearby, running his hands through his hair and sending you frequent, anxious glances.

When you were cleared to go—nothing but a few bad bruises—you ran to Jason, who took you in with open arms and buried his face in your shoulder, his body heaving with deep, anxious breaths as he held you so close and so tightly to him, as if he were terrified of letting you go.

“Sweetheart, fuck,” Jason swore, clutching you tighter to him and pressing kisses to the top of your head wildly, as if he’d been scared he’d never get to again. “Fuck, baby, I was so scared—”

“I know, Jason, I know; I’m so sorry, I should have listened to you—”

“No, I’m so sorry, baby, but when—fuck, when I saw the bruises on your neck and when I heard your voice—fuck, I barely held back. I wanted to kill him. I still want to kill him!”

“Shh,” you comforted, and you noticed that Jason was shaking, clearly more affected by the night’s events than you had anticipated. “It’s okay, I’m okay now—”

Jason pulled away from you and cradled your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to your forehead fiercely. “I should have stayed with you all day today,” Jason apologized, his eyes looking down and sad. “I felt so fuckin’ wrong about you leavin’ by yourself earlier so I called Derek and I told him about what happened and he— and he told me that I had to find you and thank God I fuckin’ came when I did, I can’t even think what might have happened if—if I—”

Jason seemed to think better of his ramblings, shaking his head, and straightening up, as if physically reminding himself to be the strong one here.

“I’m so sorry if I scared you, sweetheart,” Jason apologized and you raised an eyebrow at his fears. Scare you? How could he think that he scared you?! He fucking saved you, he—if it wasn’t for him, you might not even be here right now. “But—fuck, the thought of anybody hurtin’ you, of puttin’ their damn hands on you in that kind of way, it—well, it, it makes me—”

Jason seemed at a loss for words, and you could see the anger burning in his eyes, his hands shaking as he thought about just what had almost happened to you. You smiled at him, pressing a kiss to his shaking hands.

“Angry?” You supplied, and Jason looked at you so intensely that your legs nearly buckled when he did so.

“No,” he insisted, pulling you closer and winding his fingers through your hair, as if he were afraid to let you go. “No, the way I feel about that fuckin’ prick— angry is too damn nice of a word.”

It was hard to deny the swirling emotions in your chest at this moment, the things that you were feeling for Jason—but you didn’t want to say them, didn’t want to give them a voice, because the second that you did? It became real, and real was scary. Real could end. Real could be rejected. Real could not go the way that you wanted it to, at all.

So instead, you drew yourself back into his chest, your arms winding around his waist and his eagerly returning your embrace. You buried your head into his chest, breathing in his scent, holding him close and tight so you didn’t have to see his face when you spoke the next words you planned to say.

“You could never scare me, Jason, you—you saved me,” you reassured him, pressing a small kiss to his pecs and pushing the way that that felt to the back of your mind for later. “You’re always…always saving me.”

Jason was quiet for a while, standing there in the middle of the parking lot stroking your hair. You wondered for a long moment if he hadn’t heard you, if you should say what you’d said again, but after a moment, Jason sighed.

“I ain’t ever gonna leave you, you know that right?” Jason promised softly, and you shut your eyes tight against the tears that threatened to spill out from them. “You’re never gonna have to deal with this again by yourself, alright? Ain’t no one ever gonna hurt you, ever again. You’re safe with me.”

And that was the first time—but certainly not the last—that you broke down in wretching, painful sobs in front of Jason Kolchek.

* * * * *

One week.

One.

That’s how long you and Jason had been holed up in your apartment, taking a much-needed society break after what had happened with Dylan. The police had updated you—he’d left town, Jason had apparently spooked him pretty well—and he was never going to bug you again. Not as long as he thought Jason was around, at least, and you were certain now that you would truly never hear from that toxic piece of shit ever again.

Jason had moved, officially, into your room—you could no longer sleep alone, and it was easier this way, anyways— and the two of you had slipped into somewhat of a semi-real, semi-fake relationship. You cuddled, you held hands, you joked, you tickled, you teased—but you didn’t kiss. Neither one of you seemed to figure out when, or if, you could cross that line and so you just hadn’t. You weren’t even certain that Jason felt the same way about you that you did about him, but you were certain that he cared about you. You only hoped that it was in the way you wanted him to, you hoped that he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

For now, you were content with the way that it was. Living in your own tiny little bubble for a week, pretending that the outside world just simply didn’t exist.

Of course, that could never last.

The morning of your seventh day of hiding out, there was a harsh knocking on the door. You and Jason had been lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, and he was telling you the most bizarre story about a day on a farm and you were laughing, happy, when it happened. Jason had seen the way that you seized up, the fear obvious in your eyes, and he’d frowned, jumping up out of bed and hurrying to the door to vet whoever decided to come by today without calling first—a rule you’d made everyone who came regularly abide by now.

You had sat up in bed, tense, and you were listening more intently than you ever had in your entire life, trying to piece out who was at the front door. You heard Jason open the door, and then there was a strange silence. Until:

“Get out. Now.” Jason’s warning and the dark tone in his voice made you jump out of bed, scurrying to throw on a hoodie over the tank top you were wearing as you headed out of your room.

“No, please—I need to talk to Y/n, please. I’m her friend—just stay out of it and let me talk to her!” Chrissy sounded so desperate that it actually made you pause for just a second in the hallway.

You had told Jason everything, of course. Everything that Dylan had done to you—that night and in your previous relationship. You told him that Chrissy knew about it. That even though she knew what he’d done to you, she still gave him your location.

Needless to say, Jason wasn’t exactly a fan of hers before—but he absolutely despised Chrissy now.

“She doesn’t wanna talk to you,” Jason hissed back, and as you rounded the corner, you could see that he was blocking her from coming down the hallway. Your blonde friend—ex-friend—had tears streaming down her cheeks and she looked ready to punch your boyfriend—fake boyfriend?---in the face. “And she sure as hell shouldn’t have to, so, get the fuck out of our house, now.”

You turned around to go back to your room—Jason was right, you didn’t want to speak to Chrissy—but she caught sight of you before you could disappear, her big eyes wide and hopeful.

“Y/n!” She called out and you froze where you stood, hands crossed over your chest and already starting to feel the sting of hurt tears at the corner of your eyes. You locked eyes with Jason and you could see the tension rolling off of him, likely wondering if this was going to send you into a spiral again. Wondering what he could do to save you from this hurt.

But that’s the thing; he couldn’t. Nobody can save anybody else from hurting, because pain is inevitable.

“What—” Fuck, your voice was so cracked and teary already. You shook your head and wiped the tears that had already fallen down your cheeks, but realized that there was nothing you could do about it. You were crying, she had made you cry, and now she had to deal with the consequences of her own actions. “Chrissy, what are you doing here?”

“I got a call from Dylan—at the hospital!” She said it like an accusation, like—like you were the one in the wrong. You felt your lips quivering and Jason backed out from between the two of you, choosing to stand to the side and lean against the wall. Close by, in case you needed him, but not overriding your own decision to speak or not speak to Chrissy. “He told me that your boyfriend—” She stopped mid-sentence to shoot a disgusted glare at Jason, who didn’t even flinch— “Beat the shit out of him and put him in the hospital!”

You already knew that that wasn’t true—the police had said no damage was actually done to your asshole of an ex-boyfriend, unfortunately—so you knew that he must have gone to the hospital himself, made a pathetic sob story, and then tried to sell it to your ex-friend.

The thing was, you really didn’t care to correct her anymore. All you wanted at this point was some sort of closure, and you weren’t even sure that that was such a good idea, anyways.

“Why the hell did you tell Dylan where I was?” You accused instead, ignoring her false accusations, and your voice was beginning to be high-pitched and hysterical, your emotions practically pouring out of you. “You know—you know—what he did to me!”

Chrissy stepped closer to you and Jason flinched, but didn’t move, watching her like a hawk as he trusted you to make your own decisions. Still, he fixed a nasty glare on Chrissy as he watched her, clearly his hate for her no longer being concealed on your account. Not that you could give a fuck, anymore.

“I just thought—well, you and Dylan were so good together,” Chrissy excused, and you scoffed, your eyes widening because you couldn’t believe the shit coming out of her mouth. She thought you were good together?! You and the man who beat you? “You’ve always been so overdramatic about everything, Y/n, that I thought you’d just overexaggerated some things about your relationship. Dylan was always so nice—there was no way he actually ever hit you, he loved you!”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” You screamed back, and you knew that the neighbors could probably hear you but you couldn’t really give a shit right now. “Chrissy—you’ve seen him backhand me! You came to the hospital when I had—” You choked out a sob and Jason rushed to you, rubbing your arms comfortingly, his eyes pleading for you to let him handle this. “When I had broken ribs, and a swollen, bruised face and—what the fuck did you think, that I did that to myself?”

Chrissy seemed at a loss for words and, to her very small credit, did actually look a little bit guilty. “I don’t—I don’t know how you got there—”

“No, Chrissy, are you fucking kidding me?” You continued on, your rage beginning to build as you pushed past Jason, staring the person who you could finally see as your bully in the face and defending yourself. “You actually think that I would lie about something like that? You think that that’s the kind of person that I am?”

Chrissy’s nostrils flared and you could tell that you had hit a nerve. “Don’t act like you’re so much better than me, you bitch—”

“Alright, that’s it,” Jason jumped in, pushing himself from off of the wall and stepping in between you and Chrissy. “You’re makin’ my girlfriend upset, and you need to leave. Now.”

“No, none of this would be happening if she would have just heard Dylan out,” Chrissy argued and you turned away from her, hiding your face and your tears. She didn’t deserve them anymore. “He loves her, they were good together—”

“Shut up!” Jason ordered, and the command was so loud and so shocking that Chrissy backed away, eyes wide and appalled. Evidently, no one had ever told her to ‘shut up’ before in her entire life. “You have no right,” Jason continued lowly, his protective stance in front of you becoming even more rigid. “Absolutely no right to be here and say anythin’ to Y/n, ever again. You are not only a horrible friend but you are a horrible person. You brought a man back into her life who abused her—who almost killed her, twice—and that’s not even mentionin’ all of the shitty stuff you’ve done just since I’ve been with Y/n! No, you are the worst person I have ever met, and I refuse to let you put Y/n in any more danger. Get out, and don’t came back! I mean it!”

Chrissy looked close to tears, but she didn’t say anything to Jason. Instead, she peered around him and stared at you, her blue eyes filled with unshed tears as she said, “Seriously, Y/n? Are you seriously going to let this guy that you’ve barely known for a few months talk to me, your best friend, this way?!”

Your heart hurt—it hurt, it hurt so fucking bad—but none of this was your fault and you could finally see that.

You said nothing.

Chrissy scoffed, backing away from both you and Jason, shaking her head. Suddenly, her sad, betrayed look turned into a fierce, dangerous look of anger. One you’d seen her wear before to people she truly hated, people whose lives she made miserable.

Suddenly, you were terrified. Of her. Of whatyou knew that she could do and say about you.

“You’re going to wish you never let him say those awful things to me,” Chrissy warned lowly, halfway out the front door now. “Because I’m going to ruin you, Y/n. You’ll have nothing. You might want to start looking at switching schools now because I promise you—you will never get another show again. I’m going to destroy your fucking career, you nasty bitch!”

And with that sweet farewell, Chrissy left with the slam of your front door, leaving you breathless and petrified. She didn’t even give you the pleasure of having the last word.

You were shaking, and you leaned against the wall for support, every single thing Chrissy could do to you running through your mind. She would probably spread lies about you on campus, get you kicked out of the theatre program, make sure you could never get a spot again. But could it really be that easy for her? And was there anything that you could do? Could you—could you get the jump on her? Call the police? Could the police even do anything about this?

Fuck, you were spiraling now, and you didn’t even know what you could do about it. You didn’t have the necessary tools to deal with this and you didn’t even know how to deal with this right now, after everything that had happened. Your mental space was ridiculously fragile after the past week, and you really weren’t sure that it could handle another hit. Not right now.

“Y/n, are you—are you alright?” Jason had come up behind you comfortingly and you whirled around on him, vibrating with anxiety, your eyes shaky and afraid.

“Why would you say those things to her?” You questioned, your words coming out far more angry than you’d intended for them to. Jason looked taken aback and he shook his head, gesturing vaguely towards you and the closed door, as if he were confused about your reaction to the situation.

“Are you seriously mad at me, right now?!” Jason shot back at you, shaking his head when you failed to respond. “‘Why did I say those things’—fuck, well they’re fuckin’ true, aren’t they?”

“It doesn’t matter if they’re true,” you argued, grasping onto the hem of his shirt for comfort anyways. “She was my only friend!”

“Yeah, well, with friends like hers, you don’t need any fuckin’ enemies!” Jason responded and you shook your head, knowing he was right, but somehow still unable to calm yourself down enough to speak some sense.

“Nice, Jason, how cliche of you,” you replied instead, knowing that you were the one being immature and crazy right now, but unaware of how to stop yourself from panicking and spiraling even further.

“I really have no fuckin’ clue why you’re so pissed at me right now!” Jason continued, without any anger or malice, and only confusion. “Why are you pissed at me for standing up to somebody who literally tried to physically harm you?!”

“I’m mad because Chrissy is entirely unpredictable, Jason!” You screeched, and you knew that at this point, you were only letting your panic get the best of you and that Jason had done nothing wrong. But you needed to get it out. You needed to scream, if only for five minutes. It was the one thing that you felt like you could control. “And that’s her when she isn’t pissed off, and now she is pissed off, so forgive me if I’m fucking terrified and now you made things even worse!”

“I know you’re only lashin’ out cause you’re scared and you’re stressed,” Jason correctly analyzed, and the fact that he had you figured out so well only pissed you off even more. “It’s a damn good thing you’re cute when you’re angry.”

“Oh, you think I’m cute when I’m angry?!” You shrieked, chasing Jason into the kitchen and pulling his shirt so he looked back at you. He did, his face exasperated but slightly amused. “Well buckle up, Jason, because I’m about to get really fucking gorgeous!”

“Give me a damn break, Y/n—you know what she did was wrong, and me comin’ to your rescue did you a favor,” Jason asserted and you huffed out angrily, knowing full well that he was right but still irked by the fact that he thought he should be some sort of savior for you right now.

“For the love, Jason, you’re so ridiculously cocky!” You growled back at him, and you’d advanced on him so much that you had him pinned against your kitchen counter, both of your arms crowding him in as you clutched onto the counter with both hands on either side of him.

“I’m not cocky!” Jason insisted. “I’m tryin’ to help you!” He was clearly a little bit irritated now, and he leaned his face down to level with yours. His eyes were wide and annoyed, but he was keeping his cool, knowing that you needed to lash out at him until your emotions levelled out. Letting you be mad at him, as irrational as it was, because he knew that you needed to yell at somebody right now.

“Fuck—why, Jason?!” You screeched back, pushing off from the kitchen counter and throwing your hands up above your headin exasperation. “Why do you even care? Why do you stand up to my mom, and to Chrissy, and fight my battles and try to protect me like I’m just some—”

“BECAUSE I’M FUCKIN’ IN LOVE WITH YOU, Y/N!”

Your body froze mid-fight, mid-argument, and your mouth dropped wide open as you stared back at your…your…

What?

You couldn’t believe what you’d just heard, what Jason had just said. And the weirdest part was—he’d meant it. You could see it in his eyes, right now, the adoration he was looking at you with—the small, relieved smile that was beginning to form on his face as he pushed himself off of the kitchen counter, walking towards you confidently.

“I—” You couldn’t seem to form any other words through how hard your heart was pounding right now, couldn’t seem to think past the storm of conflicting emotions bubbling inside of your chest. “Sorry—what?”

“Yeah, you heard me,” Jason responded optimistically, as if it were as easy to him as breathing. “I’m in love with you. I love you.” And then, without a second thought, he’d grabbed you by the waist and pulled you tightly into him, his lips covering yours anxiously—like he’d been waiting to do just that for months.

Unbeknownst to you, he had.

You responded in kind, reaching up to wind your fingers in his hair and hold his head close to yours, begging every deity that you could think of that he wouldn’t change his mind and pull away. That this was real, that this was happening.

Your fears were unfounded, because Jason instantly shoved your body up against the wall, his hands that were previously planted on your waist moving their way up your body, one inching underneath your hoodie and your tank top, caressing the skin tenderly underneath, whilst the other planted itself to the back of your head as he kissed you harder. You responded instantly by lifting your leg, hooking it around his hips as you shoved pelvis against pelvis, relishing in the moan that Jason let out into your mouth via his kisses.

He changed directions, his hand that was caressing your stomach quickly falling down to your ass, gripping it tightly in the palm of his hand as he felt it up. The action felt so damn good that you whimpered into his mouth and he smirked, using the opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth eagerly and you followed suit, the two of you locked in a battle for dominance. You used your leverage to hop up, winding both legs around his waist and Jason quickly caught you, wrapping his arms around your bottom and tilting his head to deepen your kiss.

Your feelings for him were at an all time high, and you could no longer deny how you felt about him. Why should you? He had told you he loved you, and what was stopping the two of you from doing whatever the fuck you wanted now? Heaven knows you loved hi—

A large, loud crash emanating from your bedroom is what ultimately broke the two of you apart, both of you staring at each other with wide, terrified eyes. You slipped out of Jason’s hold and grasped onto his hand as you both looked warily down at the room.

“Fuck,” you whispered, and you were shaking again, but Jason’s grip held you tight, making you feel safe. “Do you think it’s—”

“No, that bastard would be a motherfuckin’ idiot to come back here,” Jason reassured you and you nodded, clutching tightly to his hand as the two of you walked slowly back to the bedroom. It was a relatively small apartment, so only a couple of more steps would get you to the bedroom, but Jason still looked back at you, gesturing for you to stay quiet. You nodded again and the two of you rounded the corner, peering into the seemingly empty room.

There was a mess in the middle of it now; your trophies and books scattered onto the floor as something had, apparently, collided with your bookshelf. It wasn’t until your eyes wandered down to the floor that you saw him sitting there—brown eyes wide and confused, clad in his military uniform, his signature bucket hat fixed to his head. You gasped, recognizing him instantly, and turned back to Jason—who adorned the same look you were sure was also atop your own face.

“Nicky?”

taglist: @house-of-kolchek @kawaiiwitch224 @inactiveforidk @lorebite @yeslieutenant @kassiekolchek22 @pechvogel @buttermykolchek @emilykolchivans @e-jaegerenthusiast @crazymissy22

#jason x reader #jason kolchek x reader #house of ashes jason #jason kolchek #house of ashes x reader #house of ashes

74 notes · View notes