The Light In The Apartment We Are Staying In Is Unreal

what the hell is going on in this country?!

stranded all in love

Pairing: Jake Lockleyx F!Reader Wordcount: 2.16K Warnings: Explicit AF. Rough smut. Gore. Public Sex. Oral. Marc has srs issues with him. squirting. Summary: And then he’s lunging for her, pinning her underneath him, tongue already in her mouth as he rips the blankets and sheets down and there is nothing between them. A/N: title from kings of leon's closer

Jake’s jealousy can be venomous at times. It can overwhelm him - shudder throughout his body while he tries to swallow the fact that Marc and Steven are the ones appropriate for the daylight. Jake does not do well with normalcy. He doesn’t fit into cafes or restaurants or long walks around a park. 

The jealous can be subtle. It can infect and nip and pierce. It grows until he unleashes on something or someone. Not her. Never her.

But, the people that Khonshu wants dead?

They’re fucked.

He doesn’t return to her often. He’s a moment - a flash of a man in between sleeps. Sometimes, she’ll wake up with him hovering over her. There will be the ripe smell of death. Jake's head is cocked to the side and the remnants of whatever fight he’d been in burns across his face. It’s like injury looks good on him. It’s like violence is his second skin. It belongs there.

“What is it?” she murmurs as she feels his hand on her. He pets her arms and shoulders. He squeezes her wrist. 

“Didn’t mean to wake you.”

When Jake says this, she knows he’s being truthful. Steven will pretend like he didn’t intend to disturb her sleep when he absolutely did. He doesn’t like to go under alone. Marc will just lie on top of her until she kicks him and then he’ll fuck her to exhaustion.

Jake enjoys the simplicity of watching her. He enjoys the quiet after whatever hurricane of violence he has doled out earlier that night. Of course, he’ll also bury himself inside her if he has the opportunity.

“It’s okay, Jake,” she says before he lunges forward.

He pins her underneath him, tongue already in her mouth as he rips the blankets and sheets down and then there is nothing between them. 

“Was it bad?” she asks against the bite of his teeth.

“Not now,” he growls. “Later.”

She knows that he will tell her. He will confess like she’s his priest though he is his own God’s servant.

He’ll probably go into detail. It is nothing for him to kill. He shrugs his shoulders and jokes about how he’s going to get the blood out of the roof of Marc’s car or remind her that they’re gonna need a lot of bleach for the downstairs bathroom. 

***

“He’s a fucking monster,” Marc declares one night. “He-He isn’t right in the head.”

It befuddles her. He can make peace with Steven and yet not with the darker side of himself - a piece of him that is as essential as anything else. His heart. His brain. His bones. 

Jake shares his body. Jake shares her. 

“He does what’s necessary,” she reminds, fingertips trailing over the hard line of Marc’s brow. “I know it’s so easy for you to love Steven because of his goodness, but Jake handles what you can’t.”

There’s a distinct twitch in Marc’s eye. A glimmer around the iris as he regards her with an unreadable expression. She frowns as he watches her, as a muscle in his jaw flexes. He looks as if he wants to say something - tell her she’s wrong - tell her she’s naive - but then it clears. 

It is nothing and everything at once. Marc’s face disappears completely to reveal Jake. 

“You’re really on my side, huh?” He leans back against the wall, arms folded across his chest. “Trying to convince big daddy that I play nice?”

She rolls her eyes and, in a flash - a pop of a second, Jake’s hands are on her waist. He spins her around until she knocks up against the edge of the table and forces her onto it. Her breasts are crushed into the wood, her cheek flat on the surface. An orange rolls from of the arrangement at its center. A lime bounces out and hits the floor with a thud. His fingers trail down the curve of her spine, skimming the width of her waist. 

“I’m going to fuck you now.”

Jake can be blunt. He barely speaks at all unless he finds his head too loud - too messy - then all of it bursts out of him: spilling, frothing, turning to spittle.

I can’t stop. 

It feels good. 

What day is it? Where am I? What’s on the docket? Where are the knives?

The sex is furious. It is rough and frantic because he never knows when the other two will rip him away. He kisses her with such aggression that she tastes blood. His teeth slip across her throat. He stares down between them as he fucks her, his gaze locked on the place he’s disappearing inside the slick of her cunt. 

He can be almost clinical about the act at times. He enjoys seeing how her body reacts to the things he does. It is the same feral look he gets when he’s murdering someone slow. Curiosity etched across his handsome face. His brows lifted in surprise when she whimpers or clenches just as they lift when whoever he’s breaking shudders or screams.

“That feel good, yeah? What if I add a third? Would you take it for me? C’mon, sweetheart….princess…lift your hips a bit higher.”

“No-no, Jack! Don’t fucking die on me too fast. We’re just getting started. Let me try and fit my fist in there.”

He is awful and he is not. He wraps himself around her as a dragon would with its mountain of treasure or its golden eggs. She has never seen anyone kill with the kind of precision he does. He has the same make-up of a shadow, flickering between spots of light, breaking apart into the dark corners of old rooms.

He comes to her with his hands still bloody. He cradles her cheeks - his dark, luminous eyes half-mad and still his. His lashes flutter as he drops his head to crash their mouths together like it’s the last thing left for him. 

This. This. This. Just this. Just you and me. 

***

There are times, she’s in danger and it’s not Marc or Steven who can handle what has to be done, but Jake. “Did he hurt you?” Jake asks as his gaze scrutinizes every part of her body. The hood and the mask are gone. His expression is contorted in a rage that she cannot reach or touch. She is the one thing he has and when someone touches her, then God help them. It is so much of Marc’s doubt and guilt that is locked in the fury that burns inside Jake. Jake takes it. Jakes absorbs it all and he shoves it back at the world tenfold. 

“I’m fine,” she reassures him. He always thinks the worst.

“You’re not,” he replies flatly before turning around, walking quickly toward the man in question and slicing through his jugular. The blood spurts on his hands, his wrists, it makes a fine mist across the white front of his armor. A quick job because he has other things on his mind. 

He doesn’t give the man a second look. He kicks his head away before returning to her. He advances, grabbing her firmly around the wrist and tugging her into the black cavernous space of the alley behind them.

“Jake,” she protests. “It’s too dark.”

He scoffs, flashing her a disarming grin. There’s blood on his lip. “Like I’d let anything touch you now…no….I wouldn’t….I”d never…” his words roll and tumble over each other as he begins to speak to himself. Her chest grows tight. Is this how he handles everything? There’s no Marc or Steven for him to vent to…they’re far too weary of him…there’s only her and she doubts even that is enough…

He’s got his gloved-hands on her shoulders as he pushes her back against the brick wall. She thinks he’s going to fuck her - ruin her - splither apart on his cock until things make sense for him, until everything returns to living-color. He doesn’t. He looms over her. The shadows make patterns across his sweat-damp face. A shock of a curl fall across his eyes. He grips the hinge of her jaw and lifts her mouth to his and he kisses her gently - tenderly - soft as the tickle of his lashes against her cheek.

“What are y-?”

“Shh,” he warns before his tongue traces the seam of her mouth, caresses her own tongue in something that should feel dirty, but is not. He draws away from her, peppering kisses across her chin and throat before stepping backward. He appears bigger with the suit - the broadness of it - the packed chest. 

He smirks before lowering himself to his knees. He grabs her by the ankle and hitches her knee over his shoulder and then shoves her skirt up and wedges his face between her legs. 

She can feel him. He inhales her crudely, his nose nudging against the lace of her underwear before he uses his fingers to tug it aside so he can access the wet flesh of her cunt. “Does seeing me save you get you soaked?” he chuckles, though it’s muffled against her skin. He uses the tip of his nose to trace the seam of her sex, up and down and down and up before he latches to the nub of her clit with his talented mouth. 

“Jesus,” she blurts out as she curls inward, as she fists his hair in surprise. He smacks her thigh - a hushed tut tut tut against the swell of her pussy. Each warm breath against her  sends sparks driving up her belly.

“Stay open for me,” he mutters before he licks into her. The muscle of his tongue splits her. He thrusts it deep before easing back so that he can lap through the fever-hot slit of her folds. She jerks, shudders, and he loves it. He groans and grunts like an animal in heat. He eats her for what feels like hours - the lewd noises of his mouth working on her, his enjoyment of the whole act.

He finally pulls himself away just enough so that she can see that the lower half of his face is coated in a glossy sheen of her. 

His gaze is hungry - unsettling, even - and he takes two of his fingers and plunges them into his mouth, wetting them with his own saliva before sinking them into her. He sits back on his heels as he does it. He studies her face as he pushes them inside with the same brute force he does with his cock. He twists his hand so that his thumb can reach her clit. He circles it tightly while his fingers rock into her - massaging her - stretching her apart. 

“Fuck my hand a little, princess,” he taunts. “C’mon - it’ll feel good.”

She does. She can’t help it. Her hips chase his stupid thick fingers that are pumping into her. It’s all too fucking much. His handsome face alight with that slightly maniacal adoration he has for her. There’s blood on his suit. There’s blood in his hair. It makes his teeth white as the coin-silver circle of the moon above them.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he murmurs more to himself than to her. His eyes are directed at her cunt and his fingers moving inside it. Her dress is rucked up around his hand so he’s the only one who can see. She can feel it though. He’s making her too slippery - too fucking scorched. She can feel heat behind her nose. Her chest stutters - grows tight. Pressure building building building too damn high as he begins to fuck her faster - fingertips brushing the furthest part of her that’s its own knot of sensation. 

“I’m - I’m gonna -”

She can’t breathe. She can’t swallow right. He stares at her, his lips twitching into a half-smile. His eyes so big and round as they jump from her stuffed pussy to her blissed-out, edged-out expression.

“Get it all wet,” he rumbles - his voice deeper than she’s ever heard it - as if it’s coming from the bottom of him. “Do it for me.”

He’s thrusting thrusting thrusting before he rips his fingers free, forcing a slip of liquid from her. She doesn’t scream; she makes a sort of choked-off noise because her tongue has gone numb. She hears it though. The sound of her bursting like an over-ripe fruit, her skin burning with a shame that Jake no doubt finds exquisite.

Don’t you dare look away from me. I wanted you to come like that. I wanted it and you did it like the good girl you are.

“Fucking Christ,” she whimpers - slightly embarrassed and slightly desperate for it again. He strokes her leg that is still hitched over his shoulder. He turns his head to press a kiss to the inside of her knee. 

“Poor baby,” he husks. “Was that too much?”

She glares at him. She knows that he did it a bit out of spite. 

Does Steven make you squirt like that? I highly doubt it. 

Marc’s too stiff - too locked up. 

You can let go with me. You can let go because I’m already gone. 

Jake inches forward, lifting the skirt of her dress to savor the quivering, puffy flesh between her legs. His slippery tongue is like a lighter zapping her skin with tiny flicks of flame.

“I can’t,” she murmurs - flinching - trembling to pieces and she should know better. Jake fucking loves that - loves when she’s docile and pushed to the edge and brought to a climax that vibrates throughout her hull.

“You can,” he encourages as he licks her again - the tip of his tongue flicking her clit and making her twitch. “You can take it. You can always handle me.” 

There’s still a dead man at the corner of her eye - a man he’d brutally murdered for her. All acts that he would do on repeat because it’s what he knows. Sex and death and her. He nuzzles into her thigh - his mouth making soft, coaxing noises. 

“Let me, princess,” he croons. “Let Jake help you feel good.”

literally me

But will I stop? No

Did she miss him? She wanted to lose herself in him. To tie him around her like a tourniquet. If she showed him how much she needed him, he'd run away.

Eleanor & Park, Rainbow Rowell

Sweet Child

sweet child,

never forget where you came from and show your parents true love and devotion.

sweet child,

tell those how you truly feel and show them who you truly are.

sweet child,

continue to follow your dreams and let no one tell you they aren’t possible to achieve.

sweet child,

experience the beautiful world for all its glory and let nothing hold you back.

sweet child,

take the worst situations in your life and turn them into the best moments of your life.

my younger self, hang in there.

Dean’s beard, reblog if you agree

Ravenclaw Introvert