The rain poured relentlessly, soaking through your clothes as you stood outside John Munch's apartment. Trembling from both the cold and the crushing weight of betrayal, you knocked softly, unsure if you should even be here. But when the door opened and John's sharp, perceptive eyes landed on you, a wave of relief mixed with raw emotion crashed over you.

"(Y/N)?" he said, his tone instantly softening as his gaze swept over your drenched, broken figure. Without hesitation, he stepped aside, his hand on the small of your back as he guided you inside.

"Come on, let's get you out of this rain," he murmured, his voice steady, a grounding contrast to the storm raging inside you.

Once inside, he draped a blanket over your shoulders and sat you down on his worn couch. The warmth of his touch lingered as he crouched in front of you, his hands lightly resting on your knees, his fingers brushing your damp jeans.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice low and filled with concern.

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. But his steady presence made it impossible to hold back. "He cheated on me," you whispered, your voice cracking. "With someone I thought was my friend."

John's expression darkened, his jaw tightening as his fingers pressed more firmly into your knees. "That son of a bitch," he growled, his protective streak flaring. "You deserve better than that. So much better."

Tears slipped down your cheeks, and you quickly wiped them away, laughing bitterly. "Do I? Maybe I wasn't enough. Maybe this is my fault."

His grip tightened slightly, his eyes blazing as he leaned in closer. "Don't you dare," he said firmly, his voice a low, commanding rumble. "This isn't on you. He's the one who messed up, not you."

His conviction was undeniable, and when his hands slid up to cup your face, his touch was tender yet possessive. "You deserve to be with someone who sees you for the incredible woman you are," he murmured, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "Someone who would never take you for granted."

Your heart pounded as his words sank in, his face so close to yours that you could feel the warmth of his breath. "John..." you whispered, unsure if you should even say his name like that, but unable to stop yourself.

"Let me show you," he said softly, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Let me show you what it feels like to be wanted. Truly wanted."

Before you could respond, his lips captured yours in a kiss that was gentle at first but quickly deepened, his hunger spilling through. His hands slid into your hair, tilting your head to give him better access as his tongue teased your lips apart. You moaned softly into his mouth, your body responding instinctively as heat began to coil low in your stomach.