.

.

+ any other fandoms you would like me to do

-fluff

-angst

-headcannons

-romantic

-platronic

-nsfw (18+)

-pedo

-insest

- anything that would make people feel unwanted or discriminated against,

Jacob Alden x reader 🔞

After being friends with Jacob for a while, you start to notice more and more about him. Honestly, it becomes almost funny how he thinks he’s so slick. Every time you catch sight of another weird photo or one of his little “coincidences,” you can’t help thinking, does this guy really think I’m that stupid?

Still, you value your friendship with Jacob more than the red flags or the things that make you slightly uncomfortable. So you keep quiet. You pretend not to notice. You tell yourself it’s not worth bringing up.

At least, not until one afternoon.You’re hanging out at his house when a thunderstorm rolls in, loud enough to shake the windows. The lights flicker and then cut out entirely, plunging the room into darkness. The two of you had just finished dancing to his record player honestly, a pretty cute evening, if you say so yourself.

Jacob tells you to stay right where you are while he goes to check the breaker box. You wait. A couple minutes pass. Then a couple more. You call his name, ask if he needs help.

Silence.

Then...

A slight breeze brushes the back of your neck. Warm. Close. Like someone is… smelling you?.

You don’t even think. Instinct takes over.

You whirl around and punch whoever’s behind you square in the face.A familiar cry of pain tears through the dark...its Jacob’s. A cold shiver runs down your spine, guilt flashing through you before fear steamrolls right over it. Your hands fumble across the table until you grab your flashlight. You click it on and immediately shine the beam straight into his eyes.Jacob recoils, throwing an arm up to shield himself as the light slices through the dark.

You knew you had to think fast. Your body moved before your mind fully caught up,you stumbled back from him, grabbed the flashlight, and hurled it straight at his forehead. The dull thud it made was strangely satisfying.

Without wasting a second, you darted toward the front door and sprinted out into the stormy night. Rain hit you in cold sheets, wind whipping your clothes as you ran. Thankfully, it was convenient,you and Jacob were next-door neighbors. It didn’t take long to reach your house, but behind you, you could hear him.

Frantic,Calling your name.

Feet pounding against wet pavement. The storm only bought you a few seconds of distance, but it was enough.

You tore up your porch steps, yanked your door open, and slammed it shut behind you. The lock clicked into place, but that wasn’t enough,your survival instincts were in overdrive. You rushed from window to window, door to door, checking every latch, every lock, anything that could possibly open. Only once everything was secured did you slow down, your chest heaving, your hair dripping rain onto the floor,And even then, your mind didn’t calm.

Because now that you were safe now that the adrenaline started to settle,..you began to think.

.

It had been a couple weeks and you have just taken time away from him and cooled down.. and think of your plan ,but that was besides the point.

One afternoon, after dozens of missed phone calls and text messages from your so-called stalker, you finally decided it was time to put your plan into action. You spent the evening cooking dinner, preparing smoked salmon, you remembered it vaguely being his favorite and you wanted everything to feel as inviting as possible so he’d come over relaxed and unsuspecting. Once the table was set and the house looked warm enough to lull him into comfort, your phone lit up with yet another one of Jacob’s needy, frantic calls. You let it ring a few times before answering, softening your voice into something gentle and sweet as honey.

“Jacob? I made dinner for us… to make up for that misunderstanding the other day. I’d be so happy if you joined me.”

On the other end of the line, you heard his breath catch, then release in a shaky rush like he’d been holding it in for hours. His voice cracked when he spoke, so relieved and eager it almost sounded pathetic.

“You-...you want me to come over? Right now? I’ll be there. I’ll come over right now.”

Before Jacob came over you gathered everything you needed, moving quickly but with a calmness that came only from knowing exactly what you planned to do; you laid out a pair of fluffy handcuffs so he would not be too uncomfortable but also could not thrash around and hurt himself, you dug out the old camera you had kept since the 12th grade, and you checked the room one last time as your nerves sharpened into a focused, dangerous kind of confidence, fully prepared to degrade the hell out of that bastard for every creepy habit and every boundary he had crossed, and you swore to yourself that if he enjoyed even one second of it, if he so much as whimpered in that desperate way he always tried to hide, you were going to ignore him so thoroughly afterward that he would finally understand what it felt like to have zero control...

Eventually he came over for dinner and you served him as quickly and casually as you could, forcing your voice to stay calm even though your heart hammered in your chest. The table was modest, the smoked salmon neatly plated, the silence heavy for a moment. Jacob sat across from you, eyes wide and hopeful, maybe thinking tonight he’d finally smooth things over. You poured a glass,just waternand slid it across before clearing your throat softly and leaning forward enough to catch his gaze. When you spoke, your voice was soft but sharp.

“So you’ve been stalking me? And you didn’t think I’d notice?”

He froze, fork halfway to his lips, the color draining from his face. His eyes flicked around the room as if trying to find an escape, voice cracking slightly

“I- I wasn’t stalking you. I just… I wanted to see you, to talk. I thought you liked me.”

He swallowed hard, hands trembling on the table.

“You kept missing my calls… I got worried. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just…”

His words stuttered and broke off, desperation bleeding through his shame.

The lamp above you threw his shadow long across the table. You watched him struggle to meet your eyes, the tension tightening like a noose around the last of his composure. You didn’t move to comfort him. You didn’t soften your expression. You waited. Because you knew this wasn’t about dinner anymore. It was about control... And he was in your house now...

It was only a short while later, after a burst of struggling and a few frantic attempts from him to twist out of your grip, that you finally managed to clamp the fluffy handcuffs around his wrists and drag him into your living room. The camera was already set up, its small red light glowing like an accusation, and considering he had taken thousands of secret photos of you, it felt more than fair that you finally got a few of him. You could not help the giggle that slipped out as you watched him on the couch, his breathing sharp and wild, his muscles tense like a cornered animal. Jacob pulled at the cuffs so hard they rattled against each other, his pupils blown wide, his voice breaking as he tried to reclaim even a sliver of control he no longer had.

“This is not funny,”

he growled, something feral creeping into his tone as he leaned forward despite the restraints.

“You do not understand what you are doing. Let me out of these and we can talk, sweetheart, I can make this better. You should not be the one in charge right now.”

His chest rose and fell quickly, like every breath was a fight. You stepped closer, watching the frustration and panic twist through his expression until it almost looked like hunger.

“What is wrong, Jacob? Can you not handle your own medicine?”

you asked quietly. His eyes snapped up to meet yours with a desperate, frustrated intensity, the lack of control driving him nearly mad.

“You know I cannot,”

he said, voice cracking as he tugged harder, almost shaking.

“Please. Do not play with me like this-"

You cut him off immediately, refusing to let even one more pleading word escape him.

“Oh Jacob, I am not playing with you. I want you to know exactly how it feels. And do not insult my intelligence. I know about all those pictures you took. Every single one.”

His jaw tightened, but he said nothing, just watched you with a hungry, frustrated desperation as you slowly moved toward him. You knelt beside the couch, lowering yourself until you were close enough for him to feel your breath brush his lips. He leaned in instinctively, needy and trembling, chasing the smallest hint of contact. You pulled away at the last second, the denial sharp and deliberate. A low, guttural growl tore from him, rough enough to make the hairs on your arms stand up. Before he could spit out another excuse or attempt to manipulate you, you spoke first.

“You are nothing but a pathetic little boy who will fight tooth and nail to get what he wants. But if anyone is going to be the first person to tell you no, it is going to be me. I am the one who is going to knock you down a few pegs.”

His breath hitched, his body straining against the cuffs, every bit of that feral frustration rising to the surface, but for the first time since you had known him, he could not do a single thing about it.

He went completely still, so still it made the room feel smaller, tighter, like the air had shifted around you. His eyes lifted to yours with a slow, deliberate calm, though the trembling in his breath betrayed just how hard he was fighting to keep control.

“You think knocking me down will make you safe?”

he asked, his voice quiet enough to make your stomach twist.

“You think taking control changes anything about what I feel for you?”

A thin, humorless smile curled at the corner of his mouth, not one born of confidence but of something raw and cornered.

“You really have no idea what you are waking up in me.”

The cuffs rattled softly as he flexed his hands, testing the restraints without breaking eye contact. Then he tilted his head slightly, studying you like you were both a threat and the only thing in the world he wanted to touch.

“So tell me,”

he murmured, his voice almost gentle in a way that felt far more dangerous.

“Now that you finally have me like this… what are you going to do next?”

Immediately after he said that she grabbed him by the blonde hair of his beard before smacking him roughly..

'what? you think just because you're a man with a fancy camera you scare me?... Your pathetic Alden'

Eventually she leans down still gripping his beard and kissed him hard before speaking

'and I'm prepared to show you just how pathetic you are'

Jacob’s amber eyes flared, a mix of shock, frustration, and something darker sparking behind them. He growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating through his chest as he tugged against the handcuffs, his body stiff with tension.

“You—” he rasped, voice rough, almost feral. “You don’t get it… you have no idea what you’re playing with.”

Even as he said it, there was a raw edge to his tone, an undeniable heat beneath the threat. His hands jerked at the cuffs again, muscles bunching, but his gaze never left yours, dark, intense, almost hungry.

“You think… that kiss changes anything? That… you can break me? I’m not like you think…”

He leaned forward slightly despite the restraints, face inches from yours, breathing heavy, his lips brushing against yours for a heartbeat before he pulled back just enough to glare.

“You’re testing me… and I don’t… like being tested.”

There’s a sharp, almost predatory edge to his words now, a mix of anger and something dangerously close to desire, fully in that feral, uncontrolled space.

the more he kept talking, the more it felt like he was giving some overblown villain monologue. You leaned closer, wanting to shut him up, just for a second, so you could think. Eventually, without overthinking it, you climbed into his lap, pressing yourself against him. Your lips found his, claiming him boldly. His hands were cuffed behind his back,helpless, at least physically but his body reacted anyway, taut and alive beneath you.

Jacob’s amber eyes widened, glowing with that dangerous, feral spark, and his jaw clenched as a low, frustrated growl rumbled from his chest. He tried to shift, tried to push you away, but the cuffs kept him pinned, and the struggle only made him more desperate.

“You… you’re impossible,”

he rasped, voice rough and ragged.

“Do you know what you’re doing to me?”

His hands, trapped, flexed uselessly, muscles bunching under the restraint, as if he could somehow claw his way free just to react. He leaned forward, forehead brushing yours, breath hot and unsteady.

“I… I should push you away… should make you regret this… but I can’t.”

His growl deepened, almost a plea.

“…God, I can’t. You’re… too damn reckless.”

Jacob’s eyes flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes, raw desire and frustration warring in his gaze. A shudder ran through him, body tense, helpless, as if every instinct he had screamed at him to dominate, to take control,but the cuffs mocked him.

“You’re… killing me,”

he admitted, voice low, trembling slightly.

“…And I-”

He stopped, jaw tight, swallowing hard.

“…I can’t stop wanting this.”

There was a flicker of something almost fragile in his expression, buried beneath the fire and the growl,the part of him that, handcuffed and restrained, was entirely at your mercy.

“You’re going to ruin me,”

he whimpered despite him trying to hold it back, desperation breaking through the edge of his usual control,

“…and I’d let you. I’d let you destroy me.…I’m yours. And it’s… it’s killing me. Every moment with you—every damned second—I’m falling further, and I can’t stop.”

Jacob’s lips twitched as if trying to form a smirk but failing, the raw edge of vulnerability cutting through his usual feral confidence.

“You’ve trapped me,”

he admitted, voice hoarse,

“and you’ll keep me here… in your hands… and I wouldn’t fight it even if I could. You’re… ruining me, and I’d let you. Every damn piece of me.”

Even cuffed and restrained, he pressed closer, helpless and desperate, amber eyes dark and shimmering, every growl and whisper carrying that dangerous, addictive tension only Jacob could summon.

Eventually, you walked back to him, moving with slow, deliberate precision. In your hand was a small vibrating toy. Jacob’s head lifted, amber eyes narrowing as he tried to read your intentions, but the cuffs left him completely at your mercy.

You trailed the toy up his clothed thigh first, pressing it gently but teasingly against the most sensitive spots. His breath hitched sharply, a low growl escaping his throat as every muscle in his body stiffened with frustration.

“Damn it…”

he rasped, jaw clenched, fighting to stay in control.

“You-....what the hell are you doing to me?”

His hands flexed uselessly behind his back, knuckles white, yet his body pressed instinctively toward the stimulation, shivering with the teasing contact.

“You’re… killing me,”

he admitted, voice low, desperate.

“…I can’t… I can’t stop…”

Slowly, deliberately, you let the toy drift higher, moving it toward his crotch, watching his reaction closely. His amber eyes widened, pupils dark, every muscle in his body tensing as he struggled in vain against the cuffs.

“You… you’re insane,”

he rasped, trembling, voice breaking with frustration and need.

“Do you know what you’re doing to me?”

His hips began to buck weakly against the toy, every movement desperate and instinctive. His low growls mixed with ragged, sharp breaths, chest heaving as he tried to contain himself.

“…God… you’re ruining me!”

he groaned, jaw tight, voice hoarse.

“…I can’t… can’t stop… can’t—please… don’t stop…”

The growls slowly turned into whines, sharp, desperate, pleading. Even restrained, every motion of his body betrayed him completely.

“Please… please… I need you…”

His amber eyes were wide, almost feral, pupils dark, burning with frustration and raw need.

“…I’m yours already… please… don’t make me wait…”

Jacob’s chest rose and fell rapidly, every shiver and low, whiny growl carrying the tension of someone both feral and helpless, completely undone under your control. Even with his hands cuffed and trapped, every instinct, every twitch, every sound screamed his obsession, his desire, and the fact that you were utterly, entirely in command. Meanwhile you continued to distract him with the toy eventually you pulled down his boxers and pants letting his thicker member plop out you can hear him let out what seems to be a sexually frustrated hiss you couldn't help but giggle but he was beside himself he soon spoke

"please sweetheart-... I'm so sorry I should have just gone about it the right way... Shouldn't have been stalking you-"

Before he could start begging again he placed the vibrating toy against the tip of his member there was already pearly white beads of pre-cum running from his tip down to his length he squirmed a bit but you gently slapped his thigh making him moan like a bitch in heat,

But despite his brainless noises he continued his begging somehow

"sweetheart-...ah-fuck....."

You brought your hand up to his mouth and made him spit on it before stroking him off for a bit, praising him and to degrading him simultaneously until he was just overstimulated eventually you spoke up again

'come on pretty boy finish for me'

It was a long before Jacob had finished strings of thick pearly liquid coating his stomach eventually he let out a small whimper of a sentence

Just made a playlist for Jacob Alden so you can listen while you're reading to all your favorite fanfics of him

------------------------📸-------------------------

Jacob wasn’t good with people. Never had been. Small talk, forced smiles, all that noise ,it made his skin itch.

He preferred the quiet hum of the machines, the weight of routine. Predictable. Safe.

Then you showed up.

The first time you smiled at him, he nearly dropped the box he was carrying. You’d said something simple , “You’re really good at this, huh?” , and he’d just stared at you for a second too long before muttering a soft, “I guess.”

That should’ve been it. Just another friendly co-worker being nice. But it wasn’t. Not to him.

Every time you passed by after that, it was like the air changed. You laughed too easily, talked too much ,and somehow, it didn’t annoy him like it should’ve. He started noticing the way you leaned on the counter when you talked, the way you tucked your hair behind your ear when you were thinking.

And then, the worst part ,he started waiting for it.

Waiting for you.

He’d catch himself checking the clock, wondering if your shift had started. He hated that flutter in his chest when you’d call his name, the heat that crawled up his neck when you’d say something kind.

Like today , you’d walked by, brushing a bit of dust off his shoulder with a quick, “You missed a spot.”

He froze. Couldn’t even move.

Your fingers had been warm, light, gone in an instant , but they lingered in his head like a ghost.

He tried to laugh it off. Failed miserably.

“Y-you don’t gotta… do that,” he muttered, voice rougher than he meant.

You just smiled. “Maybe I wanted to.”

Something twisted in his chest. Something he didn’t have a name for.

Later that night, he’d lie awake staring at the ceiling, thinking about how stupid it was.... getting all worked up over someone being nice. But then he’d remember your laugh, the sound of his name in your voice, and the thought of you talking to anyone else like that burned in his stomach like jealousy dressed as warmth.

He didn’t want to be this way. Didn’t want to feel like he was falling apart over every small thing you did.

But you were in his head now ,sweet, bright, impossible to ignore , and Jacob wasn’t sure he even wanted you out.Jacob wasn’t sure when he started timing his breaks around yours.

It just… happened. A coincidence, at first , that’s what he told himself. But then he started noticing the small things. How you always took your lunch outside, sitting at that same bench near the vending machines. How you’d hum under your breath sometimes while scrolling through your phone. How your shoulders would relax only after that first sip of soda.

So he started showing up there too.

Five minutes later. Ten, if he wanted to pretend he wasn’t doing it on purpose.

He didn’t say much , didn’t have to. You talked enough for both of you, filling the silence he couldn’t. Sometimes you’d ask him questions, small things, simple things what kind of music do you listen to? do you always work this early? what do you do after hours? , and even though his answers were short, you always looked at him like he’d said something interesting.

He didn’t get that.

But he liked it.

Today, it was raining , soft, steady. You’d forgotten your umbrella again, so you stood near the door, watching the gray sky like it had betrayed you.

“You’re gonna be stuck here awhile,” he said, appearing beside you before he could talk himself out of it. His voice came out quieter than he meant.

You turned, startled, then smiled. “Guess so. You offering to keep me company, Alden?”

He shrugged, trying not to show how his pulse jumped. “Just figured… it’d suck to wait alone.”

You leaned against the wall, close enough that he could smell the faint sweetness of your perfume. It was distracting ,more than it should’ve been.

“Y’know,” you said after a moment, “you’ve been… different lately.”

That made him freeze. “Different?”

You nodded, eyes soft but curious. “Not in a bad way. Just… you talk more. You actually smile sometimes.”

He looked down at his hands. “Didn’t notice.”

“I did,” you said simply.

The words hit deeper than they should have. He wanted to ask what else you’d noticed. If you saw the way he watched you sometimes, the way he lingered a few seconds too long when you laughed.

But instead, he just muttered, “Guess I’ve been in a good mood.”

You laughed, bumping your shoulder lightly against his. “Glad I’m not imagining it.”

And maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was harmless.

But when you said goodbye that evening , rushing off under someone else’s umbrella , Jacob stood in the doorway long after you were gone, rain dripping from the roof like a metronome counting his heartbeat.

He didn’t like that it hurt to watch you walk away.

He didn’t like that he could already tell who’d offered you that umbrella.

And most of all, he didn’t like how fast the warmth in his chest turned into something sharp and possessive.

You were just a coworker.

He knew that.

But lately, he was starting to forget how to act like it.

---

18+ please!!!

Kink list + tw list- begging/edging,Daddy issues, pictures being taken, light bondage, stalking, maybe even a little bit of a breeding kink sprinkled in there,

......................................📸............................................

Ever since that morning when he first started his little act of lying to you, claiming the postman had mixed up the mail just so he could talk, you’d started forming a bit of a crush on your next-door neighbor.

You had recently moved back in with your parents after college, probably around 18 to 20. He seemed older, maybe in his late 20s or early 30s, and every time you spoke with him

really talked with him

something about the conversation scratched at the right parts of your brain. He reminded you of everything you didn’t have with your dad. He was warm with you, kind.

After a few arguments with your parents, the thought of moving in with him started tempting you more than you’d like to admit. It had been months since you two first met, and by now you were hanging out at least a couple of times a week. You chatted online, picked up on each other’s habits like it was second nature. Like it wasn’t a good thing

But obviously he had planned this out ever since you became his "Muse" you didn't know that and even if you could see the red flags you didn't want to see it....

{time jump to one afternoon}

You were just hanging out at his house while he was gone at work. He didn’t mind you being there,especially since he could keep the cameras on without you even noticing. At least, until today.

You didn’t say anything about the cameras, but you definitely noticed. It made you wonder why a man would have cameras inside his own home, not just outside. And honestly, your curiosity got the better of you.

You started snooping.

You knew he’d hate you for it. Not really hate you but he’d be mad. You looked through a few drawers, finding normal things at first. But then you got to his office.

Of course that’s where he kept all his camera equipment. His computer sat on the desk, humming quietly. But what made you freeze were the pictures. Dozens of them. Photos of you, plastered all over the wall like a shrine.

He was obsessed. Dedicated, in the most terrifying way.

Despite the sinking feeling in your gut, you moved toward the computer. You wanted to see what else he had,what other pictures he might be keeping. But then, you heard the front door unlock.

Your heart jumped into your throat.

You stopped immediately, rushing to put everything back where it belonged. You moved to leave, hoping you could make it to the living room before he noticed anything was off.

But you hadn’t anticipated how fast he’d be.

And when he didn’t see you on the couch, something must have clicked for him,like a gut instinct. As you tried to slip out of the office, you didn’t notice him standing right in the doorway.

You bumped into him, chest to chest. You felt the solid weight of his frame pressing against yours.

You wanted to say something, but all you could do was look up at him. There was a flicker of guilt in your chest,guilt for snooping through his things, guilt for getting caught,but tangled up in that was something else. You were intrigued, maybe even a little disgusted. The pictures he had of you were all different kinds. Some were sweet and candid, others were taken from angles that suggested you hadn’t known you were being watched. Still, another part of you, embarrassingly enough, was flattered. The wholesome ones, at least, were beautiful. He had captured you in ways no one else ever had, like he truly saw you.

He just stood there, staring down at you in silence, his face unreadable. Anger was there, tight in his jaw and set in the lines of his body. You’d broken his trust, and he hadn’t expected that from you. But there was more beneath the surface. His eyes searched yours with a strange urgency, like he was bracing himself for something painful. There was surprise in his expression, maybe even a hint of fear,..fear of what you might say. But underneath it all, there was something else too. Relief. It was like part of him had been waiting for you to find out.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to speak, your voice soft and unsure.

“Look… this is a bit of a strange situation I’ve gotten myself into. I might have some questions later, but… I’m not going anywhere. I still enjoy you. Your presence. And I’m going to be honest with you. Maybe I am a little scared. But I trust you.”

Jacob was still not moving for a second just trying to process everything before letting out that in deep chuckle he would do when he couldn't believe something, but you couldn't tell if you thought you were unbelievably stupid or if he just couldn't tell if you were saying the truth or not. He eventually spoke moving closer but you didn't back up.

"your saying you trust me?... You really are a stupid thing what just because I give you everything your family can just because I'm here for you-"

His words stung you immediately cut him off not even thinking

"NO, I do trust you and you have been there and you don't get to act like you mean nothing to me look okay maybe it's a little creepy that you're doing all of this but I don't want you to leave no matter how messed up it is..."

Honestly after you said that he couldn't take it anymore he just came towards you hugging you like you always did but this time it was something harder like you would never get away now and there was a certain part of you that didn't care....

{probably an hour or so later}

He had you upstairs in his room, tied up with rope,not too tight, of course. He was always careful like that. Gentle in his own strange way. You were uneasy at first, but you'd said yes. You had agreed to this. He never would’ve touched you otherwise.

Now, you were stripped down to just a tank top and panties, everything else scattered across the floor. The room was dim, a little messy, and all you could hear was him,his footsteps, his breath, and the quiet click of the camera shutter. It was set up on a tripod now, aimed at you like he was documenting something sacred. He couldn’t stop taking pictures. Frame after frame, like you were something priceless, or like he was trying to make the moment last forever.

And maybe it was all that attention,or maybe it was just the way he looked at you,but your body reacted. You started to press your thighs together, chasing a little friction, something to cling to. Because the truth was… you wanted him. You wanted to feel him. To hear him. To taste him.

The thoughts made you shudder, not just from need but from guilt. Your whole life, you'd been told these urges were wrong. Sinful. Dirty. And yet here you were.half-naked, tied up, being photographed by someone who felt like chaos and obsession and something you couldn't bring yourself to walk away from.

He could see it,how close you were to breaking. Your body was practically trembling with need, breath hitching every time the camera clicked. The photos didn’t lie. They captured everything,how wet you were getting, how badly you wanted him, how desperation clung to you like sweat. He didn’t need to touch you to know, but he did anyway. Slowly, he walked over, hands settling on your hips with a firm, possessive grip, massaging the skin like he could calm the ache he’d so carefully built up inside you. Maybe he wanted to keep you like this a little longer,on edge, hungry, squirming under his gaze. But your body had other plans. Your hips bucked forward on their own, chasing friction, a silent plea he could feel down to the bone. He laughed, low and unbothered, like he was enjoying watching you unravel more than anything else. “Oh, don’t worry, honey,” he said, voice thick with amusement and promise. “You’ll be finished before you even realize it…” He leaned in, breath hot against your skin, his words curling around your spine like smoke. “I’m gonna take good care of you. Real good care. Mhm… Daddy’s gonna ruin you sweet thing.”

He put her through a few more poses, slow and deliberate, each one pushing her further toward the edge until, finally, he moved the camera aside, satisfied for now. Minutes passed like a storm barely contained, and when he knelt beside her to untie the restraints, she didn’t hesitate. The second her wrists were free, she was on him,kissing him with a hunger that burned through hesitation, just like he’d hoped. No, just like he’d planned. Her hands were clumsy but determined, tugging down his boxers while her hips rolled against the thick shape of him through the fabric of hers, soaked through. The soft, broken sounds he made only pushed her further, and she moved with growing desperation, grinding against him again and again like she couldn’t get close enough. Curiosity or maybe something darker got the better of him, and he slid a hand between her thighs, beneath the fabric. His fingers met heat and wet that startled even him. His breath caught, eyes widening as he realized just how badly she needed this. A quiet curse slipped past his lips before he caught her mouth in another kiss, this one deeper, messier, full of the fire he’d helped ignite.

She whimpered into his mouth as his fingers moved against her, slow at first, almost taunting. He tasted the sound, devoured it, deepening the kiss as his hand stayed exactly where she needed it most. Her body arched into him, every nerve lit up like a live wire, and still, he took his time mapping out her reactions, learning the way she twitched when he pressed just right. She was so responsive, so completely unraveled under his touch, it made something possessive crawl beneath his skin. He broke the kiss, staring down at her with a hunger that went far beyond lust.

"You’re trembling," he murmured, voice low, half a growl. "Is that from needing me... or from how much you hate that you do?"

The words hit like a slap and a caress all at once. He could see the answer in her eyes the conflict, the shame, the want. It thrilled him. Made him want to ruin her just a little more. His hand left her only long enough to tear the last bit of fabric from her hips, exposing everything he’d been working her toward. He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t have to.

When he pushed into her, it was slow but unforgiving no warning, no hesitation. Her breath hitched, body going tense before melting beneath him, taking him in like she’d been waiting for this moment since the second he tied her up. He watched every expression cross her face, memorizing it, holding onto it like it belonged to him now....

Part two?