#the fucking gun like you almost wished he'd take the opportunity so you don't have to go through with your threats

[secriden]

I mean, if the shoe fits... 🤷🏻‍♀️

[elpida]

"Oh now Mr Shelby, you're implying I'd indefinitely have a pleasant time should we fuck, that's very bold of you." She hadn't even flinched, there was no hitch to her breath, not a muscle or breath out of place. She knew the cold press of a gun, and it's threat did not strike any scrap of fear in her. She couldn't even pretend because if she was to be scared and play an act it would've been instinct, so she kept her cooled expression, simply quirked a brow. If he was going to use that on her, he would've done. "Paying for myself is not a problem."

It was with a slow sigh that she showed her disappointment, yet the little smirk said otherwise. "You'd have had more of a reaction, had my cunt been bare, that much I can assure you." Unlike most women, she said the word with little care for how lewd it was, and lewd it did indeed sound. "But then I think you would enjoy that." in the midst of all this she even bounced her leg, dares enough to let that cold metal press into her flesh firmer. The worst part of it was that her eyes had two options, to be enticed and interested, to hold that deadly amusement, or to be something of a comfort. Her shade of brown was not striking, no brown was, but it was how soft the colour when she allowed it to be. It was a colour reminiscent of comfort, a warm room with a cosy fire, toasty bedsheets in the cold of winter, the warmth of an everlasting hearth, molten honey in a golden glazed pool and it was a pool that you could easily drown in.

"What is death to fear? I don't quiver in it's presence, nor do I fear it. Those of us that have seen it, felt it, been tormented by it, walk with death at our side. At this point death is familiar, and there is something comforting in familiarity is there not?" somber, in a way. She'd rather welcome death and it's embrace, than brave the touch of someone she did not know, nor trust. Mankind was cruel, the being that took your soul at the end of it was not. "Everyone has a job to do, death included." she pauses, tilting her head. "Do you bring up my aversion to touch, because you wish that I were craving yours, Mr Shelby?" she was happy to admit it, that she had an aversion to touch, and owned it proudly. Yet animals? Never a problem, animals were different.

"Oh, you think I'm here to kill you? Would I not— forgive me, but if that were the case, did you not present me with one perfect opportunity of late? I do believe that if I were going to kill someone, doing so when you lay on your back in the grass, with a fire to rid any evidence, would've been the ideal opportunity, would it not?" she pauses. "Are you always to ready to welcome betrayal? Is that what you see when you look at me?" yet, he was absolutely on the money. There it was, that little hint of a smirk in the corner of her lips. A bullet to the brain.. it was far too messy, that wasn't how she'd do it, but she found it amusing he'd opt for that, and all she'd offer would be a knife to the throat, but not yet.. no. For now, until he trusted her, she enjoyed this. "My boss? Why Mr Shelby you're more than welcome to talk to him. He's called Mr Routledge. He doesn't work Thursdays but you could speak to him Friday morning if you like, though I don't know what he'd have to say about a legal typist. He's quite a nice man, but he doesn't remember my name. I am simply a woman he employs to do her job behind a desk." she sighs. "Tedious, he clicks his fingers if he ever has to address me."

She feigned absolute politeness, almost impressive how easily she changed into this absolute picture of politeness thanking the waiter and copying the gesture to toast. "To death clearly, and all those that do not fear it." she took a drink, a relieved sigh escaped those pretty lips but then she places her glass down. It was nowhere near empty. He hand slides into her bag to take out some notes that she places on the table. "I will tell you this though Thomas." a note of seriousness in her tone. "You can point a gun to my skin, to my most sensitive areas. You could forget my name, you can insinuate I am nothing more than a simple girl on your books, and I would not take offence.. but I do take offence at what you're implying over me being some twisted killer. I have done nothing to deserve that of you. We both know I've been on your mind for days, and I don't enjoy games. Feel free to find me after my working hours, should you decide to not insult nor play games with me." No normal woman would sit and be okay with being called a killer, or having it implied.. so that, is what she had to pretend to be. Gain his trust, keep gaining his trust, get close, and betray him with death at the hand he'd come to trust.. that it what her employer wanted and yet, three was a scrap of her soul that knew they were cut from the same cloth and that, was the hard part. They were just two people that knew death far too well.

Tommy couldn’t help to scoff about her comment even if it wasn’t the first time a woman so bluntly offered herself. With Eris it seemed different though since he had noticed her hesitant reaction to touch, so he was pretty sure her words were more or less an act he just didn’t understand for what cause yet. To give her the needed space he didn’t dare to link into her arm, but it definitely brought a slight smile to his lips as he watched her approach the dog and suddenly opened up so easily when it came to touch. While she was focused on stroking its fur, Tommy was lighting himself a cigarette to wait cause on contrary to her, touch wasn’t his problem when loud sounds and even barks could trigger his memories of trauma very fast. Maybe that’s why he always preferred horses, right?

“Mhm, you might enjoy it now. But things like that can change pretty fast Miss Amorello.” It was never difficult to find a body to lay with at night, but Tommy learnt over time that it must be pretty hard to stay there with his difficult mind. Something he thought she might understand better than she would like to admit yet. “Purmells then.” he repeated lowly and slipped his hands back into his coat as they continued walking there. “I never eat alone.” he murmured and in fact knew quite well that he would probably forget eating completely if his personal staff or family wouldn’t remind him or sit with him. Sometimes he even forgot it so much, that he reached that slightly dizzy feeling he somehow felt weirdly comfortable with cause it was a familiar state. “I would have asked someone else but… since you were there.” Of course he would play the fact down that he was actually curious about her and couldn’t stop thinking about her eyes since he last saw her, but it was probably safer to keep it to himself until he knew what all of this was about.

As soon as they reached the entrance he opened the door for her and gestured with his head inside so she could take the lead. Martinez at the entrance immediately recognized Mister Shelby and led them to a small separate area in the back of the bigger room where Tommy helped her to get out of her coat before joining her on the corner seat. “Chateau d'Yquem for the lady. Whisky for me.” he ordered and waited for the waiter to leave them to bring his focus back on the pretty face sitting next to him. As smooth as she apparently could be, his own movements could just be as sneaky as hers and so she probably didn’t realize that he had grabbed one of his guns from the inside of his suit before he slipped his hand between her legs, pressing the cold metal of the gun against her exposed thigh but never touching her with his hand.

With a devious smirk he leaned forward, other elbow rested on the table as he stared deeply into her eyes and hushed “So… you do not want my money neither do you seek a pleasant fuck because you’re not a whore. Question I have is…what is it you want then, Miss Amorello? I know that you will probably be fine with paying for yourself, but I like to know who I’m inviting.” The safety of the gun clicked and his own calmness allowed him to notice that there was not even a flinch coming from her as a reaction what made him tilt his head and raise a brow. “And you’re not even scared when a gun is pressed between your legs what makes me wonder if you just prefer a guns touch to a human one - even at spots others might find inappropriate - or if you’re not scared of death at all. Maybe you even crave it.” Just like he did more often than he would like to admit.

For a moment his eyes wandered down from her face to look at her chest which still breathed in with the same ease as before and brought another amused scoff from his lips before the blue hues focused on hers again. “Just for your information.” His face leaned in next to hers while he blindly secured the safety of his gun again. “If you’re here to kill me, I must disappoint you or your boss by telling you I’m already dead. A bullet to my brain doesn’t change that.” In the corner of his eye he noticed that the waiter was approaching their table again, so Tommy pulled back and slipped his gun where it belonged just as smoothly as he did before and rested his arms on the backrest of their seat to watch the stranger pour in their drinks. With a gentle nod he thanked him and reached for his glass to lift it to the woman looking at him. “To whom are we drinking?”

[mypoisonedvine]

artificial scarcity || (soft)dark!Jake Jensen x reader

summary: you'll realize how good he can treat you, how badly you need him, one way or another. you just need a little encouragement, that's all.

word count: 4k, somehow...

warnings: smut! (dubcon; she is fully consenting but under dubious circumstances), drugging (technically), kidnapping, imprisonment, starvation, touch-starved reader, bed sharing, grinding/thigh fucking, size kink, spanking, implied stalking/voyeurism, implied noncon (kinda?), jake being possessive and manipulative and creepy

a/n: this was supposed to be a drabble which is why the pacing might feel a little rushed in the beginning but I hope you guys don’t mind!

Jake was normally a relatively patient guy, especially with you since he had an obvious soft spot for the newest member of the team.  But after months of trying to get your attention, of his abysmal flirting not getting him anywhere, of you becoming more and more comfortable with the idea of him as a friend and nothing else, his patience was running thin.

He was tired of waiting for the perfect opportunity to rescue you and show you that he was the perfect guy for you.  He was tired of waiting for you to figure out that he could be everything you needed if you just let him.  So, he figured he needed to manufacture a chance to save you; he needed to take away some things just to bring them back, show you what it was like to let him take care of you.

Getting close to you was easy, you were teammates and friends so you trusted him.  The tricky thing was he didn't want you to know it was him, so he used your trust to lure you right into his trap.

Movie night tonight? There’s some cheesy slasher playing at the drive in at 1930, he texted you as soon as he could to the showtime to decrease the odds of you having any time to tell anyone about your plans to meet up with him; he’d rather not have the heat of being the last person to see you before your disappearance.

yeah sure!  are you driving? you replied almost instantly.

Yep, I’ll pick you up at S Lamar and Hanover in 10, he informed you, knowing it was close to your apartment but far away from any security cameras or likely witnesses.

He parked a block away and walked around the corner to see you standing there under the flickering streetlight looking at your phone.  You were waiting for him, and as he hid behind cover to come closer, you were clearly looking around for where he might be.  Thankfully, you didn't see him or his tranq gun, and he got your neck on the first shot.

He ran to catch you before you fell, relishing the weight of your body limp and pliant in his arms.  Somehow, he resisted the urge to play with you now, knowing it would be worth the wait to let his whole plan come to fruition.

//

The room he locked you in was dark and damp, barely any light but enough to see the half-full water bottle he left for you; your chain was short but you could reach everything you needed.  It broke his heart to hear your cries but he had to ignore them, if he came in now it wouldn't make sense.  He needed to be patient.

When the video feed from his camera inside showed that you'd fallen asleep for the night, he snuck in to bring you a new water bottle and a little granola bar since you'd screamed all day about being hungry.  You seem surprised when you woke up and saw it, quickly grabbing the bar but taking a long time to examine and smell it first before eating, like you were afraid it was poisoned.  But you ate, and drank your water, and waited for rescue.

Day 3 was the hardest to watch.  You tugged at your chain so much that he worried you'd hurt yourself.  He decided tomorrow was the last day because he couldn't take any more of this.

On the fourth day, he waited until you started to cry yourself to sleep before shutting down his equipment and finally coming to the door; he took a deep breath, preparing himself, before dramatically kicking it down and gasping when he saw you.  He called your name into the dark and you barely had the energy to open your eyes, poor thing.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" he yelped, dashing over to where you were chained and picking at the lock.  "I'm gonna get you out, don't worry, you're safe now."

"Jensen...?" you mumbled sleepily, making him smile and stroke your face a little.  

"Yeah, I'm right here."

//

He carried you to his car and drove you home-- not your old home, your new one which also happened to be his apartment.

"I think it's time to wake up, I'm guessing you wanna take a shower," he cooed at your sleeping form, watching you stir in his arms before finally blinking your eyes open and looking up at him.

"Oh," you whispered.  "Did I fall asleep?"

"Yes," he laughed, "you've been out the whole ride here."

"Oh…” you repeated, “and where are we?"

"My apartment.  I didn't want to leave you alone right now."

You nodded, seemingly in agreement.  "You can put me down now."

He reluctantly did as you'd asked, watching you carefully put weight back on your legs.

"Woah!" he chuckled when you wobbled a bit, reaching out to catch you, but you recovered.

"Thank you," you whispered, and he smiled at you.

"Just wish I'd found you sooner.”

"Um, you said I can take a shower?"

"Yeah, down that hall, first door on the right.  I'll bring you some clothes,” he explained, and you smiled weakly before navigating your way to the bathroom.

//

You looked so good in his clothes that his heart skipped a beat when he saw you step out into the living room.  The t-shirt that was almost too tight on him was baggy on you, reminding him of how delicate you were in so many ways, how much bigger he was than you.

It reminded him that if he really wanted to, he could force himself on you and you'd be helpless to stop him.  But that wasn't what he wanted.  It was going to be so much better this way.

"Wanna go to bed now?  I'll take the couch," he offered.

"N-no," you stammered, and he gave you a quizzical look.  "I don't… I don't want you that far away."

"Okay, I could sleep on the floor," he bargained instead, "in my room, with you."

"No," you sighed again, "then I won't be able to see you."

"I'll be right there," he reminded you.

"It's a king, right?  You can share with me."

"Are you sure?" he pressed.  "I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"No, please, this is the only way I'll be comfortable."

"Okay," he smiled, guiding you to the bedroom.  He let you watch him take off his shirt and smirked a little when he saw you ogling.

"I usually just sleep in boxers," he admitted nervously.  "I'll put on some pajama pants at least."

"It's fine, really," you smiled.  "I don't wanna be any more of a burden than I already am."

"You're not a burden."

"And I'm not gonna wear pants to bed anyways," you shrugged.

"O-oh."

But he hadn't given you a new pair of panties to wear because he didn't have any to give you.  Which meant that if you took off the sweats he'd given you, that'd leave you in his shirt and nothing else.

He tried not to let that thought go straight to his cock as he unbuttoned and pushed down his pants, seeing you conflicted on where to look, before getting in bed.  You did the same, taking the sweats off once you were under the covers and tossing them out from under the blanket.

"Goodnight," he smiled as he turned off the lamp, hearing you whisper it back before starting to shift around and get comfortable.

He didn't have to wait nearly as long as he had expected to hear you meekly whisper, "Jensen?"

"Yeah, is everything alright?" he asked, voice full of concern.

"I… I don't want to ask you for anything else…" you sighed.

"No, hey, it's okay," he assured, "ask for anything."

"Would you, um, would you hold me?" 

He cleared his throat a little.  "If you need me to."

"Please, it's the only way I'll be able to sleep."

He sighed a little but relented, coming over to your side of the bed and spooning you, gingerly laying one arm over you and trying to avoid touching you anywhere too personal.

"Thank you," you sighed sleepily.

"Whatever you need,” he assured.

"Jake, why are you doing all this for me?" you asked quietly, turning back a little to look at him.

"You're my teammate, nobody gets left behind,” he explained.  “Besides, this is all my fault anyways.  You were waiting for me when they got you."

"No, Jake, don't say that.  It's not your fault."

"Alright, but it's not yours either.  You didn't deserve that."

“You’re right, but I don’t deserve this either,” you mumbled.

“Yes, you do.”

You shifted slightly against him, humming contentedly, and he groaned.

"I think maybe we should stop," he hissed, pulling away— but you stopped him by grabbing his arm.

"No, wait," you whimpered.  "Why?  What’s wrong?"

"I, uh, I guess I'm just experiencing some of the consequences of laying in bed with a beautiful woman…"

"Huh?"

"The, um, the biological consequences."

"I— oh,” you whispered.

"Yeahhh...” he trailed off awkwardly.

"No, hey, it's okay.  I don't mind, I mean, you can't help it,” you shrugged.

"Sorry, I'm not normally this easily amused but it's been a while, so…"

"I understand," you assured, "really, it's okay… just don't go."

He just barely heard your gasp as he pressed himself against you, his shaft cradled perfectly between each soft globe of your ass.  "Is this okay?" he asked quietly.

"Y-yeah," you answered, making him suppress a laugh since it was obvious you were noticing his size.  He would bet a grand at least that you were getting wet right now, if he had anyone to bet against.

Your back arched a little, pushing your ass into him with more force, and you actually started to rock your hips ever so slightly.

"Stop moving," he hissed through his teeth.  

"I'm not…" you denied weakly.

"Yes you are, you're… rubbing yourself on me."

"I'm sorry, it just feels good,” you admitted sleepily, surprising him with your forwardness.  “You like it too, right?"

"Yes, but I feel like I'm taking advantage of you,” he admitted worriedly.

"You're not,” you promised, “you did so much for me— you saved me— and I want to help you, too.  You said it's been a while since you were with anybody, I could help you out… you know, you could rub up against me until you…"

He groaned a little but leaned in closer until his lips were right against your ear.  "Are you sure?  Don't do me any favors, you don't owe me anything."

"I want you to," you assured, making him smile and nod a bit, taking a moment to enjoy a deep breath as he prepared himself.

Carefully, he began to rock his hips forward, rubbing his cock on you through his boxers.  Even with a layer of cotton in the way he could feel your warmth, he could imagine how smooth your skin was.  If you hadn't been able to make out the shape of him before, you certainly could now— the ridge of his head was probably digging into you, and on particularly long thrusts he could feel your ass against his balls (which, inversely, meant you could feel his balls against your ass).

He held your hips as he picked up his pace a bit, grinding into you and breathing heavily in your ear.  You gasped and tried to hide a moan by biting your lip but he heard it.  It was even more obvious when he whispered your name to you, heavy with desire, and rubbed your spine with his finger.  Your back arched even further, inviting him to push harder against you until he felt the slightest wet patch forming on his boxers— not from him, from you.  It made his cock throb and his breath catch in his throat.

Overcome with need, he pushed his boxers down quickly before getting back to it, both of you moaning at the feeling of his skin on yours.  He was so close to your pussy he could hardly stand it, and he knew you must be dripping right now, desperate to be filled.  He could probably slip right in and you wouldn't even stop him, but that wasn't what he needed from you right now.  You needed to ask him for it.  He knew you wanted it, but he needed you to know you wanted it.

A drop of precum formed at his slit, smearing onto your skin and easing his way further.  

"I want you to feel good, too," he whispered.  "I don't just want to use you."

He pushed his cock down and slipped it between your thighs instead, sliding right against your wet, silky folds.  You whined beautifully as he thrusted forward, your thighs clenching (and therefore gripping him even tighter) when his cock slid right over your clit.

Your wetness was plentiful enough to drench him just from this, so he already knew the answer but he still asked, "does it feel good?"

"Yes," you sighed.  "Yes, it's good…"

He knew he could make you come like this, and he knew exactly how to, but that wouldn't get him what he wanted.  Instead he only gave you enough to keep you on the edge, moving too slow to really let you finish.  You even tried to move faster but his grip on your hips was too tight, keeping you still so he could savor his own pace and keep you desperate.

"Fuck me," you moaned.  

"I don't have a condom," he whispered nervously.

"I don't care, just please…"

That was all the encouragement he needed, pulling back enough to guide his head to your entrance before sliding right in.  Your wet, hot walls stretched open to accept him, struggling against his girth but eventually giving way.

Your hand shot back to grab onto his thigh, trying to keep him from going too deep, but he had no intentions of holding back now that he was inside you; he delicately grabbed your wrist and guided your hand back to your chest where he wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly.

"Baby," he moaned into your ear as his hips met yours.  "This is my pussy now."

You gasped and shivered in his arms, eyes falling shut as he pulled back and pushed in again, incredibly slow but as deep as he could push himself.

Your moans were perfect, even better than the ones he'd heard when he hacked into your webcam because it wasn't just your fingers or toy anymore, it was him— exactly what you'd always needed, whether you knew it or not.  He'd dreamed of this for so long and now that he had you he couldn't imagine ever letting you go.  Every inch of your channel was like heaven, every moan was somehow more beautiful than the last.

"That's it, baby, take all of me," he purred when he pressed deep into your cunt, holding your hips so the tip of his cock hit the deepest parts of you.  You made the cutest little choking noise and he kissed your neck while trying his best to make you do it again, moving faster and slapping his hips against yours more firmly.

"Jake," you managed to whimper, and he groaned through his teeth.

"Yeah, I'm right here," he promised.  "That's me inside you, sweetheart, that's my cock filling you up."

He leaned back slightly and pulled your ass apart so he could see his cock stretching you out, disappearing into your body.  It made his head fall back for a moment before he pulled you close again and started thrusting faster.  He reached around and brought two fingers to your clit, rubbing it fiercely as he kept thrusting.

"Oh fuck," you moaned, "Jake, right there… I'm gonna come…"

He laughed a little, kissing your ear as a show of approval.  "Baby, you're so sensitive," he praised, giving your clit a little spank.  You cried out and shuddered, bouncing yourself back on his cock, meeting his thrusts.  Amused by your neediness, he stopped moving and watched you go.

"There you go, sweetheart, fuck yourself with my cock.  Make yourself come."

You whined and kept going, your ass slapping against his hips loudly.  He kept rubbing your clit as you worked his cock, your walls starting to clench down on him rhythmically and your body beginning to shake.

The absolute second he heard you cry out with pleasure as you reached the peak, he grabbed you and rolled both of you over until you were on your stomach and he was brutally fucking you into the mattress.  He could still feel you pulsing around his length, gripping him tight and pulling him deeper.

"That's it, keep fuckin' coming for me," he groaned.  "Gimme one more and then I'm gonna fill you up."

"Jake!" you yelped, grabbing onto the pillow and even biting it as he slammed into you.  

"You're so good, baby, your pussy feels so good," he growled, pinning you down by your shoulders as he sped up even more.  He laughed when he felt your walls weakly fluttering, his balls hitting your swollen clit with each thrust.  "Gonna come again already, baby?  Just from my cock?"

"Yes," you sobbed hoarsely, "yes, Jake, I'm gonna come again— oh my god, please don't stop…"

"Oh, I won't stop," he assured.  "You take it so fuckin' good, sweetheart, like you were made for it.  Like you were made for me."

You moaned loudly and he took the opportunity to spank you— not incredibly hard but enough to make you whine a bit… and get even wetter.

"Oh fuck, you like that huh?" he purred with a grin.  "You like it rough."

"Yes, fuck, I love it," you agreed with a moan.  "I'm— I'm coming, Jake, don't stop."

"Yeah, I know," he chuckled, "I can feel it.  Feels so good when you come on my cock, baby…"

You went suddenly from arching your back and gripping the pillow to falling limp and relaxing, your body his toy now as he fucked you to the point of overstimulation.  Your moans were exhausted and muffled now, your walls clinging to him desperately as he continued stroking every sensitive place he could reach (which was all of them).

He could so easily pull out and paint your back, or jerk himself off over your ass, but if he was going to claim your body then he was going to do it right.  

He didn't warn you in advance, just in case you suddenly decided to tell him to pull out, but he did make sure you knew what he was doing.  "Fuck, I'm coming!" he moaned as his cock flexed and his seed filled you, still thrusting in time with each pump of his release.  It was nearly overwhelming, physically and psychologically.  He was finally filling you like he'd fantasized about basically every time he got off since he met you, finally making you his the way you should've been from the beginning.

He sighed and laid down on top of you, smiling as he kissed all over your face, neck, shoulders, and back.

You giggled sleepily, but whined when he tried to pull out, bringing your legs up to hold him inside.  "Don't go yet," you pleaded.

"Okay, baby, I'll stay right here until you fall asleep," he promised.  "Goodnight, beautiful…"

//

Not only could he not think of a night he'd slept better in his life, but he was pretty sure this was the best any man had slept in the history of sleep.  But even then, he wasn't at all disappointed when you woke him up.

"Good morning," you whispered in his ear with a giggle, making him blink his eyes open and look down at where you were resting your face on his chest.

"Good morning," he returned with a grin, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close.

"Last night was… pretty amazing," you smiled coyly, and he stroked your cheek as he felt it warm even more.

"Yeah, you have no idea," he chuckled, lifting your head so he could give you a kiss.  It was supposed to be quick and wholesome but you deepened it instantly, wrapping your arms around his neck.  

Just as you started to climb up to straddle him, he heard your stomach loudly growl and he pulled back to laugh.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but it sounds like you've got some other needs to take care of first," he smirked.

"Ugh, you're right," you sighed, "I'm going raid your kitchen."

"No, let me do that, I'll make you something— whatever you want," he offered, starting to sit up, but you pushed him back down.

"Jake, you've done enough for me already.  I don't even know what I want, that's why I wanna go look at what you have."

"If you insist," he relented, watching you hop out of bed and playfully smacking your ass when it was within reach.  You giggled and scampered away, leaving him to lay back and put his hands up behind his head, taking a deep breath of satisfaction.  His plan had not only worked but gone beyond his expectations— clearly you had wanted this, on some level, from the beginning, you were too eager for him to believe otherwise.  But that didn't matter now, because you were finally his and it was exactly as he'd dreamed it would feel: right, undeniably and overwhelmingly right.

He decided to take a break from basking in his own glory for a while to get up and find some food for himself as well.  After all, he planned on fucking you at least one more time today so he'd need lots of energy to keep him going.

He slipped back on his boxers and walked to the kitchen, finding you there standing oddly still.  "What are you doing?" he asked with a bemused scoff.

"Jake…" you mumbled, staring into the cabinet blankly.

"What's wrong?" he asked, stepping closer but stopping in his tracks when he saw what you were looking at: a six-pack box of granola bars.  He sighed a little as he internally chided himself for such a rookie mistake.  "Baby, seriously, what's wrong?"

"I… these… this is the same kind they gave me… it was the only thing I ate for almost four days."

"Oh my god," he whispered, stepping up behind you and wrapping his arms around you to try to soothe you.  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring back any bad memories.  You only ate granola bars for four days?  Honey, you must be starving, please just let me cook you something—"

"No, not only granola bars: only a granola bar.  Just one…"

You reached up to grab the box but he held you tighter, trying to stop you.  Instead what happened was you accidentally knocked the box over, exactly five bars sliding out and landing on the floor with a crinkly thud.

You gasped with realization and tried to squirm away but his comforting hug turned into restraint instantly.  "Jake, let me go…"

"I'm sorry, baby, but I don't think I can do that."

"Jake, please," you begged with a sob.  "Why did you— how could you?"

"I know you had feelings for me, you just needed a little encouragement."

"Feelings for you?  I hate you!"

"Huh, that's odd, because I distinctly remember you begging me to fuck you last night,” he taunted.  “I remember you coming for me, twice.  Is that what you normally do when you hate somebody?"

"You're a monster," you sneered.

"And you're stuck with me, whether you like it or not," he chuckled, spinning you around to bend you over the counter, pressing his hips against yours as you whined and failed to squirm away.  "So you might as well let yourself like it."