#it just feels like everything is pointless because as much as you personally get better no one will ever understand or care… U Know? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

simpjaes · 5 months

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FRENZY ៸៸៸ part one

Jake is experiencing real love for the first time in his life. He’s so infatuated with you that he would do anything to make you understand. And you? Oh, you are in no place to argue with a man who appears to be perfect.

៸៸៸ part two here ៸៸៸ you must read both parts to get the full story

៸៸៸ sim jake x afab reader

៸៸៸ minors dni

៸៸៸ wordcount: 33k (part two: 14.2k)

៸៸៸ genre: stalker au, dark fic, slow burn, smut

៸៸៸ content tags: switch!stalker jake, he is gross but on a plus side he’s got a big shlong, obsession, panty stealing/sniffing, toothbrush sucking, shower water tasting, jealousy, manipulation, past trauma involving sa of reader, reader is manipulated into being obsessed with him too, trauma, jake is very insane, he’s thinks you need him to fix you, reader can be lifted and carried by him.

៸៸៸ !WARNINGS! there is intense trauma, past abuse, and conflict in this fic. It’s dark with mentions of noncon and dubcon, and an instance where jake keeps going after reader faints. Everything is consenting between the two but only because he is manipulative and a bad person. if you can’t handle it, don't read it.

៸៸៸ a/n: this was way way way longer than I anticipated it to be but i mean…….it’s slow burn so take it or leave it. anyway, huge shout out to @drunkhazed for not only encouraging me to write this every time I lost steam for it, but even helping me work out some of the details. i hope this fic was worth the wait even tho tumblr is forcing me to post it in two parts.

៸៸៸ nsfw tags under cut

៸៸៸ nsfw tags for the whole fic, as in both chapters: masochism (jake), sadism (reader and jake), overstimulation, painful masturbation, praise, worship, dirty talk, blowjob, finger fucking, pussy eating, riding, missionary, mating press, standing up sex yayyyyy, huge giant fat cock jake, deep penetration, unprotected sex, implied breeding, choking, hair pulling, suffocation, cock warming, crying, begging, hate sex, hitting (m receiving), squirting

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s been days since he left his apartment. The skin around his fingernails have been chewed up, his eyes are red and heavy with sleep, and he still can’t bring himself to move from this spot. Disgusting as it may be, he loves it. It wasn’t like this before but that doesn’t matter too much to him right now.

The spot in front of his window has become his home within the apartment, a place where he can feel weightless and deserving of life’s pleasures. The sun is more bearable like this, the moon is prettier, even the rain sounds better now. The windowsill is lined with empty cans and food wrappers, a pile of laundry has been sitting in the corner since he started settling in this chair, and it’s gotten to the point now that nothing else in this apartment is of interest to him. Sleep comes easy in this chair too, so why move if he doesn’t have to?

He knows his last load of laundry is slowly molding over from not moving them into the dryer days ago, he knows his food is slowly going expired, and he’s aware now that bothering to wear clothes is pointless, they’ll just make the laundry pile bigger. He needs no distractions from this view, save for a quick bathroom trip and sprint to the front door to pick up his food orders. Each moment spent away from this space after five in the afternoon is a waste to him.

How did he get here? How did he get to this point in his life? You. You’re how he got here. It’s your fault for moving into the apartment next door, your fault for accepting a space within view of his bedroom window, and it’s your fault he waits all day for you to come home, learning your schedule day by day.

It started the day he forced himself out of bed. A Saturday afternoon. It was the first time he had the energy to do it after a month of barely moving, given that his recent breakup rendered him a shell of his former self. Recent to him anyway, it had been a year since she moved out, a year was like a day to him though. Time blurs when you’re shifting between resentment and numbness, and he really would have figured he'd have gotten over that breakup by then but he wasn’t. The words she last said to him resonated every minute of the day in his head, “he’s my brother!”, “you broke my phone?!”, “you’re fucking insane, Jake!”

It was a surprise to him that the man in her call log actually was her brother, but still a man at that and he didn’t like it. She was to be loyal to one man. Him. Only him. And she wasn’t, but none of that mattered to him after he got out of bed that Saturday afternoon.

When he stood to his feet and began to dig through his closet for a shirt that didn’t smell like stale depression, it was much the same as any other day when he had the energy to do this. This time though, he opened his blinds and nearly fell on his ass at the warm sun boring through his window at him. He stood there feeling the warmth for a moment before his eyes adjusted enough to look around at the lively streets below.

Even through his displeased huff, he stayed looking. If anyone cared to notice, this would be a good sign coming from him. One that shows that maybe he’s thinking about going out for once. Maybe he wants to call up an old friend that he hasn’t spoken to in almost a year and catch up on those lively streets. And you know, maybe that could have happened if it weren’t for the fact that something else catches his eye.

Directly across the street sits a much nicer apartment building, and in his direct line of sight is a large window with opened blinds. Inside, stood you. He didn’t know you at the time, of course he didn’t, but at that moment he instantly knew that he had to know you. It was like slow motion, a rush of euphoria streaming in his veins as he looked at you for the first time. After so long in a slump, resenting and vibrating hate toward an ex, seeing you was like a glass of cold water during a drought. Even from so far away he knew you had a pretty face. Even from here, he knew you’d want to meet him too.

An immediate attachment he felt, to a stranger across the street unknowing of his existence.

And that’s how he got to this point, growing so fond of watching you through that window day after day. It’s been weeks now since he started, and only the past two days have rendered him unable to move from the spot. He’s lucky his parents fund this apartment for him under the guise of him getting a degree that he no longer attends classes for. Because, well, he doesn’t want to miss a single moment with you. He’s growing so planted to this uncomfortable computer chair and barely caring because when you come home at five in the evening every day, this chair becomes much more comfortable to him. Almost as if it doesn’t exist, hell, he’s practically floating when he watches you.

It’s your own fault he’s like this. It’s your fault you leave those blinds open, it’s your fault for walking around in close to nothing within the safety of your own home. If you didn’t want him to watch you do it, surely you would have closed the blinds by now.

You’re practically inviting him.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s a given that within those weeks of watching you his obsession hit peak insanity by the time he ended up planted in place by the window. Now though, he’s making plans in his head, because he knows it’s not healthy to just watch. He knows he deserves more than just feeling himself up as he imagines being in that spacious apartment across the street with you. By now, the relief his hand offers pisses him off. He wonders more and more every day what you smell like, what you feel like, how warm you must be. He deserves to know.

Such a pretty girl all alone over there, maybe you need some protecting from the other strange men probably watching you too. Jake isn’t strange though, he just likes you. A lot. Enough now to leave this chair in front of the window when he knows you’ll be at work. Enough to actually get up and shower, enough to start working out again in front of that window just in case you arrive home early. Enough to know your schedule like the back of his hand. Enough to clean his apartment, to throw out his building piles of trash, to shave and touch up his grown out hair.

Enough to follow you to the grocery store and purchase the exact things you purchase, cooking later what he presumed to be your dinner and eating it with you there at the window.

It’s gotten to that point, where his confidence is high and he feels as though it’s time. It’s time to stop waiting around but he needs to know more about you before meeting you officially. That’s the only road block by this time and he can only think of one way to do this. After all, he doesn’t even know your name in order to look you up online.

So, its early Monday morning and he knows you’ve got work for at least eight hours and, well, he’s got a fucking need.

He watches you in the window before you leave for work, his room now dramatically different than before. Clean. He looks in the mirror, proud of the way he looks now with his stylishly messy hair and skin moisturized. You’d like him better like this, right?

He doesn’t even grab a bag to bring with him, because he knows if he forgets anything he brings, you’d take note of someone being there. You might become hyper aware, you might find out it was him in the future. There are too many risks in that. So, he just brings himself, which should be enough.

Going outside was an experience as it always was for him. He always feels so out of place and so entirely alone when he walks near other people. Always wondering if they see him too much or not at all. Thankfully, your apartment is just across the street and it’s a quick trip to get inside of the building. He knew the security here is trash, after all, he’s watched this building door for so long by now, that even if he were to be stopped, he’d know how to get inside anyway. He sees the side doors, the ladder in the alley way, all of it.

When he steps inside, part of him almost wants to turn back and purchase a small camera to hide in your apartment. He slaps himself on the forehead for not thinking of that sooner, but he’s already here so he might just have to take note of that for later.

With a polite smile he nods to a single security guard and receives a stern nod back. His insides are crawling with energy at how easy this is, and he feels fucking giddy. As he works his way up, entering wrong floor after wrong floor, he finally lands his feet on your floor. He can tell because he double checks, and then triple checks by looking out of the big hallway windows and finding his own apartment straight across the way.

He smiles wide at the apartment doors, noting the lack of code entry locks and finding simple turn-key locks. This is perfect, because he practiced a skill for this specific purpose. Lock-picking. He hopes it comes in handy as he pulls out his miniature tools.

That practice did come in handy, and he smiles to himself with a near sob of happiness at the sound of what he presumed to be your apartment door unlocking. Intelligent, that’s what he is.

He steps inside and instantly he is dizzy. He was right, he was fucking spot on. This is your apartment, and he can’t help but stand in the doorway frozen at the very thought that he fucking did it. He made it in and now your apartment is his for the next few hours if he so wishes.

The first thing he does is go to your window and gaze across the street. Seeing his own window from here felt surreal, thinking back to all of those nights he came undone to the thought of standing in this exact spot. His body reacts quickly to the space, twitching in his pants at the adrenaline he feels.

If there is anywhere in the world he could be right now, this would be the exact spot. He hasn’t felt this excited in a long time, even compared to when he first saw you and his heart went from rotting to filling with love. It’s hard at this moment for him to turn around and look somewhere other than his view of that all-too-familiar window of his, but he manages. He’s slow to turn around, taking in each breath with intention, every glance burning into his memory. From the open curtains, to the open blinds just behind them, to the dull color of the paint on your walls.

He smiles as he notes that your apartment is clean, almost obsessively so. It’s also much nicer compared to his own even when it was brand new. You seem to like candles, apple and sugar cookie scented candles. He can tell from the amount littered around the open living room and kitchen. The dull scent dragging his senses into euphoria. You also seem to like plants, you like shoes, you like plushies.

He nods as he takes note of everything in your apartment before sauntering out of the living space and toward the hallway. There, he enters the bathroom first.

Clean still, save for a pile of dirty clothes thrown carelessly into the corner. Before he focuses too much on that pile of clothing though, he stares at your shower, taking note of the other scents you’re drawn to before trailing his fingers along the shower wall. Still damp from your morning shower, he presumes. He lets himself feel the sensation of the droplets soaking his fingertips, running it along several areas of the wall before pulling his hand back. He looks at his glistening fingers for a few moments, preparing himself for a new sensation as he places his fingers to his lips. Sucking in the remnants of your shower and humming. Then, ecstatic with the taste, it’s easy for him to balance himself against the wall and bring his face close to a few more unbothered droplets, licking them into his mouth and relishing in the feeling of the cold shower wall against his tongue. His cheeks dampen through the act, and even when he pulls back for a moment, he can’t bear to wipe away the condensation.

It tastes like water, but it’s your water. And as he continues to suckle against the wall, he finally pulls back and places his fingers back into his mouth to suck off any last remaining droplets. His eyes now flick to that pile of laundry. Based on your cleanliness in the rest of the apartment, he assumes you’ll probably wash these later, which is a fucking waste. He confirms in his head the loss it would be not to take something, and so, he plans to.

Fingers still in his mouth, he fumbles with his other hand to shove each piece of clothing up to his face, inhaling the scent of your sleep because these were clearly the pajamas he saw you wearing last night. The scent is dull but he swears he can smell your skin on this fabric and it’s enough to cause another twitch in his pants. His cock already growing heavy and sensitive in the confines of his pants.

Finally, the pair of panties. Worn, crumpled on the floor in a presentation too beautiful to resist. He drops your shorts carelessly to grab at them, his fingers leaving his mouth just to smear across the seat of the garments before instantly he’s sighing out in a soft moan. Nuzzling his lips and nose into them, inhaling for an even longer time compared to the other articles of clothing. It’s as if he’s inhaling a deep hit from a blunt, the scent making him dizzy and entirely hot in the face. He could cry, honestly, as he dips his tongue out just for a moment to taste. Heightening his sensations of you. It was euphoric feeling them in his hand, against his face, in his mouth. Even more so with the scent of them, worn from the day and clearly needing a wash. It was relieving to him in some way, fondling the panties seems to push him further from the reality he’s in, sending his mind into colorful image after image of what these must have looked like clinging to your pussy.

He’s quick to stuff them into his pocket after he gets his fill, forgetting only for a moment that there’s more to explore and that he can’t just sit here all day and jerk off to a single pair of panties. He’s sure you have more for him somewhere. And with that, he moves his eyes to your bathroom counter.

Gazing at your toothbrush momentarily, he fights off the idea of taking that too. Ultimately deciding that you’d definitely think something was off if that went missing.This doesn’t prevent him from touching though, as he reaches forward and runs his fingers along the bristles. Just as suspected, it’s still damp too from your morning routine. The sensation of the bristles along his fingers is somehow more arousing than anything else right now, and it’s hard for him to hold back. His cock is now heavy in his pants, leaking against his zipper and begging to be let out. He holds back still though, even as he brings the toothbrush up to his lips much like your other items. He takes in a deep breath first before licking along the handle up to the bristles. Still tastes like toothpaste, and the taste is far too overpowering to be able to taste you. Still, his hips lunge forward against the counter as he tastes another part of you.

He stays like that for a while, hips pressing forward every few seconds in search of the friction his zipper offers, and your toothbrush hanging from his mouth as he rummages around your drawers and cabinets.

By the time he has searched every inch of your bathroom, he finally places your toothbrush back into its place and stares at it for a moment longer. If you continue to use it, it’s like you’re kissing him. He hopes you like it as much as he does. And just like that, his interest in the bathroom is gone. Excitement bubbles up yet again, knowing that he still has more of your space to explore for his own pleasure. He adjusts his length in his pants and sighs with a dazed smile and leaves the bathroom almost exactly as you left it.

Quietly, he goes further down the hallway. There's only one other room and he just knows that it’s your bedroom, that much is clear. You always keep these blinds closed but sometimes he can see your shadow when you turn on your light at night. This is where he wants to be right now, and upon opening that door, he’s immediately hit with another new scent. Home.

He doesn’t waste his time indulging himself here, throwing himself forward onto your bed, face down, and instantly groaning at the feeling of his sore cock hitting your mattress under his own weight. By this point, it’s weeping with pre-cum and staining his jeans with a large dampened spot. The feeling is so much to handle as he lays there trying to breathe through the raw feeling of how badly he wants to fuck something. How badly he wants to fuck you.

He laughs to himself in the bliss of your scent as he tears up, gripping your duvet and covering his face with it. He breathes heavily as his gleefully aroused tears begin to soak into the fabric. Then, because of course he would, he gags himself by stuffing that very same duvet past his lips. He closes his eyes now, imagining that you let him in, you’re here with him, you’re here under him. The scent of apples and cookies would be drenching the air, your panties would be wet and begging to be off of you. Fuck, he wants to consume these sheets the same way he wants to consume you.

Immediately, he sucks on the fabric with a lift to the corner of his lips, smiling as he tastes the closest thing in this apartment to your body save for the panties in his pocket. He feels like he’s floating right now, and he would be a fool to hold off any longer. He wants to have his way here, hoping that you don’t notice the stains he plans to leave behind. Hoping you sleep on them, hoping you sit your bare pussy against the same spot he intends to fuck as hard as he would fuck you.

He slides a hand down between his body and the mattress and dips into his pants with a visible shiver, finally offering himself relief. Long and slender fingers making their way around his length and instantly he’s unable to keep quiet. His eyebrows lift in relief at the feeling, rubbing his tongue raw against your duvet with his muffled moans, writhing wildly as he begins to fuck forward. His ears are ringing, his finger tips are burning against his own arousal, and he doesn’t think he’s ever been so fucking happy in his life than he is right now.

As he continues, his wrist is being rubbed raw much like the head of his cock and his tongue. So many sensations come from the fabric you provide and, god, he loves it. He can’t help it when he aggressively shoves his pants down, allowing his pre-cum to spurt out of him, instantly staining your sheets and causing him to pick up the pace. Fucking against his hand and humping with no real rhythm.

His moans come out in short, muffled whimpers. Your blanket in his mouth makes the sound more pathetic than it already would have been, but he loves the way the sounds echo off of your walls. It’s like he was meant to be in this room doing this. Like this is the only room he should be intimate in, whether it be with himself or you. He wants to moan like this not just because of you but, for you. He wants you to play with him, he wants you to fucking destroy him, mocking his overly sensitive cock until he’s crying.

His mind is spinning as he fucks forward with these images in his head, the scent of you only drives him further and further from the reality at hand. He sobs only a little when he pushes the duvet out of his mouth, quickly replacing that with your pillow. He buries his face into it so hard that he nearly can’t breathe. The lack of oxygen hitting him second by second until he’s gasping for the same warm air that’s being trapped by the plush pillow, his orgasm bubbles up quickly with each jerk of his body.

Faster and faster he fucks into his palm, paying no mind to the burn on the under side of his cock that repeatedly rubs against the sheets. His muffled breath now comes out in short cries of laughter as he feels his release approaching. He chases it aggressively, violently. He wants his cock to fucking ache for you.

And it does, a mixture of searing heat and release hitting him all at once. He can’t breathe as his body stutters against your sheets, his pathetic cock continuously releasing a greedy amount just for you to sleep soundly in later.

Then he just lays there, feeling every last drop leave him and make a home within your sheets and mattress. All he can do is grin as he tries to catch his breath, rolling over and feeling his already-spent cock pulse at the cold air that hits it. He lifts his head to look down at it, noting how red it is even as it softens up. Again, he’s floating right now. He can’t believe he managed to get inside, he can’t believe he has your panties, he can’t believe he’s even tasted you.

Through his blissed out state, his eyes begin to travel around your room as he comes down from his high. Heart pounding still, he realizes he didn’t comprehend a single corner of this room the second he saw your bed. It was like he cared about nothing, it was like he died and went to heaven, and he wouldn’t have it any other way save for you being on this bed with him.

Then, his eyes land on your dresser and he’s careful when he stands up to balance himself, tucking his length half back into his pants and wincing at the sensitivity. Jackpot. Jake’s attention is solely focused on your dresser now, wobbling over and trying to pretend that his body isn’t still shaking from his recent orgasm.

He’s in a world of euphoria again, immediately after having gotten off so quickly within the sheets of your bed, and now as he rifles through your panty drawer, his sensitive cock is twitching with embarrassing interest. He laughs at himself and the way he could probably fuck you repeatedly for hours at this point. Never has he been so ready to come again a mere minute and a half after already having done it once. He holds off though, pocketing a few more pairs of your panties before turning his attention to your closet.

There, he notes the fashion you like, the shoes you have hidden probably for nights out, and…oh.

Sex toys.

He glares at them for a moment, wondering if you only have these because you’ve yet to realize how badly you’d want him to do it for you. This leads him to believe that you must be desperate for touch, for love, and surely he could make you feel better than a piece of soft rubber, surely you wouldn’t need these if you have him, right?

He grabs one with a huff and inspects it for use. Upon realizing this has been well loved by you, he removes the batteries and pockets those too, solely because he refuses any competition when it comes to you. Another mental note to find any and every battery in this apartment so that this toy becomes useless to you and your pussy. After all, you’re his now and it’s only a matter of time before you realize it.

He shakes his head in disappointment at his findings before tossing the toy back into the space he found it and turning his attention to your desk. After all, he’s lost all interest in this closet simply for containing items that offer you pleasure. At least at your desk, he might find some deeper information about you.

And God, it’s like you knew he was going to be here. He smiles, his heart swelling at your kindness of leaving your journal right here in the open for him. Inside is a page bookmarked with what he assumes to be junk mail.

There’s your full name though, glistening in the dark space of his brain that was dying to be filled with information about you. He whispers it to himself, loving the way the tip of his tongue tingles at the act of saying it out loud for the first time. His heart flutters as he runs his fingers along the plastic window of the envelope, repeating your name several times, as if to conjure your spirit up right here, right now, to bask in his post-orgasm glory of love for you.

He’s almost got all of the information he needs with this simple envelope. He knows exactly where you live obviously, your full name, what you like, your favorite scents, and now all he needs is–

He pauses as his eyes fall to the page marked in your journal, damn. It seems to be your most recent entry, and you really let it all out in these pages. His own ex-therapist suggested he start keeping journals too, but fuck no. That’s too much work for him. He doesn’t like giving himself that type of attention either, but thank god you keep one.

Your self written bible, with all the information in the world about you coming from your own hand, your own brain, is right here in the palm of his hand and it’s not hard for him to decide what to do with it.

Just like that, an hour passes as he starts from the beginning and works through your thoughts starting from early last year. Right around the time his ex-girlfriend left him, the bitch.

The deeper into this journal he goes, the more he learns. Intimate things, fucked up things. He almost laughs at your pain, how silly of you to love someone when he was here all along. You had your heart broken, met someone who fixed you, then he destroyed you even more than the first man. Silly you, choosing the wrong people and letting yourself be hurt enough to write about it.

It’s not until he reads what your recent ex did to you that he starts to really feel something. Anger. So much fucking anger that a man touched you like that. He hurt you like that, then left you feeling torn apart and, as you wrote, “dead inside”. The anger is so strong as he grips your journal and nearly crumples the page. He wants to rip it out, to erase it from your life so you forget it ever even happened. You wouldn’t need to remember all of this if you’d let him in.

But he can’t just rip this page from your life, because you’d notice. These are your deepest secrets, surely you’d be on high alert if something like this were to go missing. So, he opts to read it again, and again, and again, searing it into his memory like a mantra of you and your life. A mantra of why you need him, and why the universe is putting you in front of him.

Now, the further and further he reads, the pages are filled by this man who hurt you. He can practically smell the tears you shed when writing these shaky words. Detailing each painful touch, each emotion and moment of dissociation that happened to you during that time. There’s something about the way you write your pain that arouses him just as much as everything else you do.

Perhaps it's the anger of you being taken advantage of in that way, or perhaps it’s because he’s reading each fine detail and wishing he was you, and you were the ex. He wants you to hurt him the way you’ve been hurt, the thought alone is enough to make him fall deeper, and harder in love with you. He wants to feel everything you’ve felt.

In his mind, you’re doing this to him. He wants you to hurt him that way so badly. He wants you to have him broken and crying, with all the power in the world because it’s what you deserve. Because of him, you will forget what happened to you. He will fix you, and you will break him.

The more he reads, the more he fantasizes. It’s not your pain, it’s his now, except he would never tell you to stop. He’d be begging for more, more, more. In his head, yes, you’re on top of him and gagging him with your fingers so he can’t cry out. You’re the one hitting him and taking him for all he’s worth. You’re the one calling him dirty names and forcing a painful orgasm through his body.

The image in his head right now is so beautiful, and it’s all you. The man no longer exists in his thoughts as he stares down at your words, another flash of a smile crossing his lips as he snakes his hand down his pants for the second time, because this time he can’t resist it. The words appear more like an erotic novel rather than your own painful trauma. He finds it easy when he checks out of reality, each drag of his palm up his cock sending waves of warmth through his body with each new word he reads.

He likes the way you write “fuck”, he loves the way you write, “I deserved better.” He adores you so much, he wants you to say those things to him. Even if he would never hurt you, he would be more than willing to let you hurt him, to let you be the aggressor, to ruin him and make him bleed.

His fingers squeeze around his length harder as he feels his legs attempt to buckle. He allows himself to fall to his knees on your floor, gripping the journal like it’s his last life line in this world.

His eyes shoot across the paper and he’s biting against his bottom lip so hard that he can taste the metallic flavor of blood as he takes in every pen stroke. That taste of blood only becomes more obvious to him when he begins to whine at his own grip against his cock. It’s not enough, and it will never be enough until you’re the one ruining him. He grips tighter, bouncing up on his knees to chase the feeling as he works himself up, only briefly losing the ability to read when he rolls his eyes back at the desperate feeling of needing you here with him to hold onto. His entire body is burning up, pulsing aggressively, and yet, still shivering at the cold and lonely air within your apartment.

Then his eyes are right back down on your journal, his hips continuing to chase. He’s not alone, you’re here with him, you are surrounding him entirely right now. This is the air you breathe into, and the gasps he takes with the realization are deep and intentional as he swallows up the air in this room until it feels suffocating.

“Part of me wishes I wanted it, It would have hurt less, I think.” You had written one day last week.

He groans at your boldness, poking his tongue to his cheek with a frustrated moan.

“At least I left the city. Mom told me to change my number too, but I haven't done that yet. I hope he can never find me again.”

Jake smiles with a clenched jaw, because that man won’t ever find you again. Not with him by your side. He will protect you, he will make damn sure that any man who wants you can’t have you.

He edges himself for a bit this time, after having gotten off so quickly before. He wants this one to be drawn out, he wants it to fucking hurt, and it does already. His sensitive length is twitching against the pre-dampened denim it’s being restricted by, his knuckles are red and raw from hitting the zipper of his pants, and the inside of his lip is still bleeding. Finally, he skews his pants down just enough to let his length spring free.

The suffocating air of your apartment wraps around him so beautifully, and once again he’s shivering and letting out a chuckle. It feels so good. It feels so much better when he’s here and not stuck in his apartment. It feels amazing reading your words of pain, putting himself in your position and wishing so much for you to take this frustration out on him.

He edges, and edges. Fucking up, then strangling the base of his cock to prevent orgasm. God, it feels so hot, so good that it becomes harder each time he does it. Again and again, until the shadows of your curtains shift in position, until he feels like his head might explode, and that’s when he realizes he has been reading, sometimes the same page over and over again, for hours and at least an hour more fucking himself.

Surely you’ll be getting off from work soon, but he’s so close. He’s so, so, fucking close to you right now and he can’t bare to end it just yet. The images of your past burns in his gut, and despite being in your space, he truly is so far away. He cannot imagine your face up close, and only imagines the silhouette of you, the shape of you that he’s seen so many times before. Every image is from a street away, and still it’s so unfathomably arousing to think you could use him as your diary. You could whisper your painful little thoughts into his mouth and let him swallow them up, let him erase them from your life.

Take this rage out on him. Hit him. Make him suffer the way you did, he would love that. Giving you such an outlet, and loving it more and more each time.

He fucks up once, hard, and for the last time he squeezes against his weeping cock so tightly as if to prevent himself from releasing. His body can’t take it anymore though, he loses all control even through his tightened grip at the base of his cock. Still, he manages to focus his eyes down at your journal, placing it directly against the underside of his cock, and there, he lets go. Strings of white shooting out past the journal and onto your carpet, seeping in almost instantly as he lets out a long and choked out moan. Raspy and raw, he can barely recognize his own voice.

The sweat on his brow drips down as he shakes through the most intense orgasm he thinks he’s ever had, vibrating moans coming out as pained whimpers as he continues to pump himself empty against the pages of your trauma. Then, he pulls your journal up to his lips in a last attempt to show how desperate he is at this moment. He closes it, licking up the spine of the book before dropping it to the floor in exhaustion.

His mind and body has never been so stimulated by another person. Despite you not even being in this room to physically do it for him, he feels as though he’s just professed a profound love for you and you accepted it. He’s left himself all over your space, marking you, marking his territory, swearing to his shaking soul that he will never let another person touch you.

The only pain you should ever feel again is when your palms sting from swelling his skin before kissing it better.

As he sits, coming back to himself, still trembling from pleasure and overwhelming adoration, his eyes scan further around your room and note all of the little trinkets of personality you like to show to yourself.

A list of movies you’ve watched dangles, pinned on a cork board by your tv, and next to that is a list of movies you haven’t gotten to watch yet. On the other side of him is a bookshelf, containing a variety of novels, manga, magazines, cds, and even a few little figurines of characters that must bring you comfort.

All of these things, the scents you like, the colors you like, the books, movies, shows, music. It burns into his memory the same way you did when he first saw you.

It doesn’t matter that his body feels weak at this moment, his mind will never be calm when he’s thinking of you. These forms of entertainment are now his favorite things. His fingers struggle to pull out his phone, and struggle more to find his notes app.

There, he stays for an hour more. Typing and retyping everything he can see, smell, and touch. Every single movie, every single music disk, every single manga, magazine, and book. He will love them as much as he loves you, and he will be the person you seem to need so badly in your life.

And then, as he glances up to the tiny, bastard of a digital block on his phone, reality sets in. He needs to leave now.

Thankfully enough, you’re right on schedule as usual. He’s crossing the street to his own apartment when he catches the scent of you carried by the wind, and right there, he glances. For the first time seeing you a little closer than usual.

He doesn’t know if you look happy, sad, or exhausted, all he knows is that you’re truly a feast for his eyes as he stares a few moments too long and you make eye contact with him.

Then….you smile.

You smile at him, with a small wave as you walk through the building’s doors with not a clue in the world that the kind faced, handsome, stranger you just made eye contact with was worshiping the very air you breathe.

For him, that smile managed to ignite something else in him that he didn’t even know he had. Perhaps a feeling of confirmation? No, maybe it was validation? Either way, the pep in his step is at least an inch higher than it’s ever been as he makes his way up to his home, and finds himself right back at the window.

He feels satisfied, happy, and maybe even a bit sleepy as he watches you from across the street. Standing where he just stood, disappearing to what he now knows is the bathroom.

With all the new information, surely it won’t be the last or only time he’ll be in that room with or without you. Now, he can meet you as the best version of himself. The best version of the person you would love.

Perhaps now, he can accidentally run into you enough times that you’ll have no choice but to face an introduction, and right then and there, he will be the perfect man for you. You’ll invite him in, you’ll share all of those secrets with him, and you will love him.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Buying a camera was easy, and setting it up against his window so that he never had to risk missing a single second with you was even easier. Especially because now he had studying to do.

Movies, shows, music, books, all of it. He delved in for days, living the lives of other people through the media you seemed to love so much. Through all of it, he paid most attention to the romantic aspect of each bit of entertainment you seem to enjoy the most in your free time.

He learns how these men kiss their significant others, he studies how they look at each other and express their emotions. In the music, he listens and anticipates that he can make you feel better than these songs do. In the books, even the horror related ones, he focuses on the emotional aspect and forces himself to learn these expressions.

Love and hate aren’t the only two emotions he should be feeling, but they are for the most part. Save for things like jealousy, arousal, and entitlement. He needs to learn sympathy. Empathy, passion, contentedness, melancholy. There is a vast array of emotions he needs to master, and he can’t help but feel like that’ll just take far too long.

As he is, he loves you. As you are, he loves you. You should love him the same, and you will love him the same. After all, he already loves the same movies, books, and music. What else could you possibly ask for from him, outside of a burning loyalty driven by passion? Outside of never laying a hand on you, nor letting another person within ten feet of you if you so much as blink at him lovingly?

It’s as if weeks passed when he started watching you through the recorded footage. Really though, it’s only been a week because he can still smell the scent of you on those dainty little panties each time he wraps them around his sore cock. They satisfy him plenty when he uses your other, cleaner garments that he took from your dresser against his lips.

Each night since he was in your apartment, he’s fucked into these panties, remembering the taste of your shower water and toothpaste, and each night he grows more and more weary of when he can have more.

Still, these panties are getting him through this difficult period of down time, the anticipation that soon enough, you’ll smile at him again is enough to not jump for the opportunity to get back into your apartment just yet. Because soon, you’ll probably invite him in next time too, maybe even let him taste you rather than a simple remnant of you.

Even your social media drives him to learn quicker. It’s private, of course, and all he has to go off of is that pixelated image of you, your interests, the burning images of your trauma, your name, age, address, and used panties. Sure, he’s satisfied for the time being but he knows for a fact that this “content” feeling will only continue to fade away and be replaced with the intense need to just fucking meet you.

He knows you’re hiding from someone, and that someone just so happens to not be him. So, he’s the one man in the world you could ever hope to meet anyway. A protector, a lover, a fierce defender and an outlet for all of your pain.

And oh, what great news is it that just a mere two days later that content feeling does, indeed, run out! Not only does he feel well equipped to be your forever soulmate, but when he looks at himself in the mirror, still fond of now trimming and taking care of himself, he’s gotta say that he plays the part well on both fronts.

It’s another Saturday afternoon, this time he takes the time to sit by the window and watch the shadow of you through that closed bedroom curtain. He wonders how often you wash your sheets, or clean your carpet, or lose your batteries to your stupid fucking sex toys.

Surely the remnants of him are still there, surely you’re used to his scent by now. You won’t be afraid when he steps out around the same time you do. You definitely won’t think it’s strange that he just so happens to be grocery shopping too, or that he’s needing the same ingredients you are needing. Maybe you’ll like it when he brushes his hand against yours when going for the same tomato.

He’s confident, and he’s ready. That’s for sure.

What he wasn’t ready for though, is how outgoing you are.

Naturally, he smells you before he sees you. Hyper aware that every person on the street that isn’t you just ends up invisible to him anyway. He doesn’t intentionally walk into you, acting as if he’s going the opposite way. Except he does.

The first touch of your body to his is nothing but a mere “accident”. The soft padding of your jacket collides with his hoodie, and still he swears he could feel the blood pumping through your veins at that moment. His entire body erupts in goosebumps at the first touch, he sighs out at the intentional mishap, not yet making eye contact with you.

He falls back only slightly, raising his hands in defense and mock apology. Right there on the street, not even a block from the two buildings both of you call home.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even–” He goes to say, mind blanking the moment he does look at you, and you look back at him.

You’re right there. He can feel your energy hit him in the chest, as if that little collision was nothing less than a car hitting him at full speed. His breath is caught in his throat as he takes in your image up close for the first time.

You look….frail. Not like a sickly-frail, but the kind of frail that only comes with emotional baggage. You look sleepy, with your cold cheeks and watering eyes from the icy wind hitting them. So badly does he want to grip you and pull you into his chest. He wants to hold you, he wants to keep you warm, he wants to kiss those shivering lips and hold those shaking hands.

You’re a mere foot away from him and his heart is already exploding. Standing in awe, oblivious to the fact that he has lost his ability to control the situation upon looking at you, because now all he can think about is giving you everything in the world.

Then, you glance away from him and speak.

“No, no.” You look to the ground after that brief eye contact and seem to shy away from the interaction. “I shouldn’t have been looking at my phone.” You continue to stare at the ground, gripping your bag close to you out of instinct rather than fear or anxiety.

“Likewise.” Jake smiles, trying to refrain composure and softening his voice. Still, he burns the image of you into his corneas and memorizes the pitch of your voice. “Hey…” He adds, trailing off a bit and dipping his head to draw your eyes up to him in a friendly way.

“I think I’ve seen you before, do you live around here?”

You pause. He’s just a friendly stranger with a tender voice but the brief glimpse you had of him did seem familiar.

“You seem kind of familiar too?” You question, easing your tense body and looking up at him with another smile, this time more awkward. Mostly because you definitely avoided his question.

“Huh, small world.” He shrugs, offering little to no context to that statement before shifting the balance on his feet and stiffening at the harsh wind that picks up.

This is the moment in which any normal person would say their goodbyes, last apologies, and be on their way. Jake is too in love to comprehend what normal people would do though.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I forgot my wallet at home and was running back to grab it before the market gets packed with college kids trying to buy all of their weekend alcohol. I really didn’t mean to run into you like that.”

God, he feels like a robot saying it. He did mean to run into you, and he didn’t forget his wallet.

“Oh! I’m actually on my way to the store.” You admit, trying to appreciate his explanation and press the idea of forgiving and forgetting. “So you live close by then?” You add, feeling better asking him where he lives rather than stating your own place of residence.

“Yeah, I live over there.” He points at the building across from yours, silently taking a step closer.

The chill in the air is harsh, but the way you don’t move back from him is much softer and easier to swallow as a man on a mission.

When you perk up at recognizing his apartment building, it’s very telling. Well, to him it is, but to anyone else he could assume they wouldn’t have picked up on that slight blink of surprise he caught.

“Huh,” You state casually. “Well, I’m going to go pick up some groceries too. I walk this same way back, do you want me to spot you on your groceries as my own apology for not paying attention?”

Partially, you do this because you want to be alone, and upon meeting this man who is running the same errand as you, you think you may feel too awkward to go through your daily plan running into him again. Plus, he lives right across from you, and you find yourself not wanting him to know where you live.

To him though, outgoing may be an understatement. You’re offering to not only shop for him, but to drop it off at the desk? You’re inviting yourself into his space?!

“Don’t be silly, I’ll just run and grab my wallet and I’ll be right back out. I can help you carry your things. It’s not safe for a lady to be walking alone on a Saturday anyway.” He assures you, stiffening up his shoulders in the wind and smiling at you.

You don’t know how to reject his offer, as awkward as it is, and somehow as comforting as it is. Solely because he just confirmed your silent anxieties about being in this city alone. You do this walk to the market every weekend, and despite you slowly becoming accustomed to the area, you never truly feel safe doing it alone.

Should you reject the offer and go back home? You have enough snacks to last you the night and you can just go to the market tomorrow. And even with those thoughts in your head, you wonder why you nod to him, and you wonder why you step back toward the building behind you and lean against it as if you’ll wait for him.

You shiver at the wind as he nods to you and jogs to the very same building he pointed out before disappearing inside of it, and all you can do is internally panic at how pathetic you are. You should not be inviting this random man to walk with you, or to carry your things for you. He’s going to know where you live. What if your ex set this up? You wouldn’t put it past him for a second.

Then you think a little deeper…perhaps you’re comforted by this man’s calm and somewhat genuine kindness. You’re not amazing at reading people, clearly, but he seems to be kind. Still, you’re too afraid to tell another person “no” these days out of fear that they will be angry.

You’re now hyper aware of your surroundings, wondering if the threat looms elsewhere, or if you just invited the threat to walk you to the supermarket.

You have no choice but to take the chance though, with the way he mentioned that you shouldn’t be walking alone on a weekend. You’d be paranoid with or without a stranger escorting you, especially after returning home from work last week and swearing your apartment felt different. Your anxiety regarding your ex is at an all time high.

Should you even want to reject this small situation of possible safety? It’s still known, to you at least, that your ex hasn’t been able to find you, nor has he texted or called you since your first week of living in this city.

Finally, you decide to just try and relax. If you show your fear, perhaps this man will turn on a dime and take advantage like everyone tends to do with you. Even if you don’t remember leaving your apartment door unlocked last week, even if you don’t remember misplacing your batteries for a particular item in your closet.

You can’t just assume every new, kind, and handsome face is working with your ex. You can’t just let your fear continue to control your life.

At least with this new face, and the security in your building being well aware of your safety concerns, you nor your personal space could be violated inside of your own home at the very least.

Outside though? On the streets with dozens of others? The risk is high, and you aren’t even sure if you have the capability to run fast enough or react fast enough with the little safety keychain you keep in your hand, buried in your puffy jacket pocket.

By this point, you’re more afraid to walk alone than you are to walk with this nameless man. Saying no to him would only result in another evening walk full of paranoia, then again, walking with him still brings a whole different type of paranoia. That is, until he comes running back up to you with that same warm smile, hands tucked into his hoodie, and the promise of some sort of protection at least for this grocery run.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“So,” Jake starts after several long minutes of walking with you in silence. “Do you always walk alone at night?”

You nod to him quietly, about to say something before he sighs and shakes his head.

“That’s brave. You must be new to this side of town because it’s not exactly the safest for you to just be wandering around by yourself.”

It’s obvious to Jake that this is only a half truth, but he knows what you’re running from by being here and he can’t help but ensure future endeavors with you, even if just to have you need him each time you leave your apartment. He would gladly walk you to the moon and back if you so much as considered it an option.

“Oh, really?” You respond with slight distress. “I moved here because of the safety ratings. I wasn’t aware that it was an actual concern outside of me just worrying too much.”

He picks up on it.

“Every city is dangerous if you think about it. You know where my building is if you need it though. Just let me know if you ever need someone to usher you back and forth.”

You scoff almost, laughing at the implication that you’d consider that an option.

“Please, that would be so inconvenient and inconsiderate for me to do. Besides, I have this nifty little keychain!” You smile, trying to make light of the situation and the anxiety his words of your bravery are bringing to you.

“That is pretty nifty,” He laughs, eyeing your keychain and watching you put it back into your pocket. “Can’t imagine that keychain would stop anyone though.” He adds with a light and casual tone, only because he knows that the keychain couldn’t stop him. “Plus, it’s not inconsiderate. I’m much more effective than that keychain of yours.”

There is a deep fear instilled in you at his words, ones that make you curl in on yourself internally. Maybe you really couldn’t protect yourself without someone next to you. You slow your pace for a moment and consider his words. Pepper spray, a seatbelt cutter, taser, and a pair of pointy claws won’t do a damn thing for you if you end up frozen on the spot at a threat. Which is something you know yourself to do when danger rises. Perhaps this stranger is right about that, and if he’s offering, maybe it won’t be so embarrassing to actually follow up on that, especially if he proves to simply be a kind and concerned neighbor.

Then again, maybe he’s just being nice and doesn’t want you to genuinely expect that from him.

“Can I know the name of the person willing to escort me to and fro?” You try to play it off as a joke with a sweet and calm tone to your voice, thankful that you’ve become an expert at hiding your fear by now, but he stutters in response. Stopping in his tracks and deadpan staring at you.

“Oh my god, how rude of me.” The same smile, the same soft voice, and now– and extended hand to you. “I’m Jake, and I fully expect you to require my assistance at any time, any day, when you feel it may not be safe for you to be out here alone.”

“What the fuck?” You comment without full intent, reaching for his hand and gripping it in yours.

It’s…delightfully warm.

“Hm?” He perks up a brow. “What was that?”

“It’s like you can read my mind or something.” You laugh, now releasing his hand and feeling far more comfortable walking with him, and possibly accepting his offer.

“I’ve been told that before, you know.”

Good fucking lord, the feeling of you gripping his hand was something that could have sent him straight to an asylum. Cold hands, warm smile, a reluctant tone in your voice– he sees you size him up, and god, fuck, did he see you just accept him for all that he is at this moment. He broke past your first wall, he could see it in your eyes when they flickered for just a moment.

“I bet you have.” You confirm for him, now giving him your name and looking up at him. The dim streetlights and remnants of the setting sun sure do put this moment on a pedestal in your head for some reason.

Your first friend in this city. Surprisingly it’s a man, and even more surprisingly, he seems to be entirely in tune with every single anxiety you have about life right now without even fucking knowing it.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The immediate night after you willingly led a kind stranger to the front of your apartment building, seemingly right across the street from his own, was the moment you realized that for the first time in years, you really did feel safe.

Jake, this new person who appeared out of thin air walking right into you and somehow, into your life as well, is safe. With the well-bleached hair peeking from his hoodie, tired eyes, and the blushed cold air on his face doing nothing more than highlighting his features, you didn’t want to admit the immediate attraction to him.

In fact, those feelings of instant attraction are what got you into that mess with your ex. It’s what you’re running from now, and what you were intending to avoid. It’s in your nature to want to be around an attractive person, sure, but is it so strange to lean in so quickly when said attractive person lives across the street and offers you convenient means to feel even safer? You’re not jumping into an immediate relationship or anything by feeling safe around him. You don’t know him well enough, but for some reason, all you need to know to satisfy you is that he’s not out to take from you. He didn’t seem to need or want more, even in those long moments of silence standing beside him in the supermarket.

If anything, Jake, himself, is a new safety measure you intend to use for yourself, even as a last resort. Not because his smile is charming, or his voice is soft. Definitely not because his fashion sense seems to be well thought out, and his clothes hang against his body as if he had a real life filter consistently maintaining that every angle of his face and body remains perfect.

It’s because he offered it. Point. Blank. Period. You, unfortunately, are not in any position to deny that it’s what you need either. You know for a fact that your ex is still asking around for you and trying to figure out where you live. Not to get back together, but just to let you know that he’s around, and he always will be for as long as you live.

So, Naturally, the days leading up to running into this man was a whirlwind of paranoia for you. Nothing that even your heavy doses of medication could calm, yet, he managed to do it on that simple fifteen minute walk to the grocery store, and that somehow quicker fifteen minute walk back home.

That happy shocked sigh he let out at learning you live right across from him, was weirdly comforting too. As if he was just as relieved as you were that he knew he could at least keep an eye on you if you needed him to. Like he would be willing to call you at three in the morning if he so much as saw suspicious activity outside of your building. Plus, you were debating at the time lying to him about where you live just to comfort yourself, and you’re glad you didn’t.

It caught your attention, and you find yourself longingly looking out of your window today, scanning the building across from you and wondering which one of those rooms would be the most safe for you. Your mother’s voice muffled through your phone as your eyes wander, and a smile forms at her words.

“Don’t you think it’s too soon to be putting your trust into a complete stranger? Honey, I don’t want to watch–”

“I know, Mom. Really, it’s not like that. I barely know the guy but don’t you think it’s a good thing that I have a neighbor now? One that’s willing to walk with me so I’m not alone out here?”

There’s silence on your mother’s end for a few moments before she sighs.

“It does make me feel at ease, I admit,” She starts, sounding as if she’s going to cry. “I just want you to be careful. And– I want you to tell me things if anything were to happen. I don’t want you to keep anything from me anymore.”

You sigh now, more in a defeated and sad way as your eyes trail down to the door of Jake’s building and notice him stepping out and heading down the street.

“I won’t hide anything anymore. The last thing I want is to go through that again, but I’m healing. Really, every day feels a little better, a little safer.” You back up from your window and smile again, grabbing your coat and slipping on your shoes. “I gotta go though. I love you, Mom.”

You don’t hang up until you hear her say it back, and then you’re out the door to catch up to him. Unsure of why you’re doing it, and ultimately choosing to ignore the fact that you were staring at his building.

Jake, on the other hand, has been reeling for days. Though, more careful now when he watches you. He even moved his camera slightly, hiding it better since he’s caught you staring out the window at his building multiple times.

It’s confirmation that, at the very least, you think about him.

“Hey!”

At first, he thought that voice was his imagination like always. He ignores it, relishing in how well he managed to remember that little rasp you have sometimes when the wind blows like this. Given, he’s only walked with you once to and from the grocery store, the weather was much the same, and your voice cracked a few times in your words to him.

“Jake, Wait up!”

He hears it closer now, followed by the sound of foot steps and….fuck. It’s you. You’re really running after him as he makes his way to the local mall, all to buy the next book on his list from your bedroom.

“Hey?!” He turns to you, unable to control his glee at the turn of events.

For once, after all this time of him watching you, you’re approaching him without prompting and it only took one official meeting.

So naive. You do need protection.

“What’re you doing here looking so warm?” Jake adds, outstretching his arms and watching you pause at the invitation for a hug. “Too soon?” He lets his arms fall before stuffing his hands back in his pocket.

You panic only for a moment, realizing you definitely need an excuse to be chasing him down like this solely because you crave that short instance of safety he offered you once before. Sadly, you have no excuse. You had nowhere to be today, nor any plans to leave your apartment at all and yet, here you are, avoiding his hug and yet still wanting to stand in front of him.

“Oh,” You instantly come up with a lie. “I was running out to the market again because I forgot to buy something.”

Jake perks up even more at the idea that he could walk you to and from the market, and possibly even offer that you come with him to the mall. Maybe this is the perfect time to bring up the book you’ve already read, that he, apparently, so desperately wants to read too.

“What did you forget?” He asks playfully, noting in his head that maybe you’re a forgetful person. Which is kind of cute.

“Uh–” You pause, breaking eye contact and blurting out a random item. “Milk.”

Well, that was a lie and he definitely knows it. He carried that jug of milk that was not forgotten back to your apartment for you. In fact, he hadn’t worked out his arms in a while due to his focus on his abs and stomach that he even felt a little sore due to how long he was carrying it, all while the wind was freezing his fingers to ice for you.

“Ah, should we go grab you some milk then?”

You don’t think twice before you nod, sighing in relief that the lie was taken at face value and not realizing for a moment that you just impeded on whatever plan he had prior to you interrupting him.

“Okay, can we stop somewhere else first? If you want?” He eases into the question, studying your expression and loving every moment of it. Craving to be close to you, even just to stare. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, I can always just grab milk on my way home and drop it.”

Oh, you were being rude. Only now realizing how you eagerly transformed his errand into your errand.

“My god, I’m sorry. You’re clearly busy today, it’s okay. I can grab milk later!” You say in a rushed huff, already backing away and trying to hide yourself from the embarrassment.

You really do cling. Your ex was right about that, and it makes you uncomfortable.

“Wait, no!” He panics, fumbling in a step toward you to close the distance again, feeling far too uncomfortable with how you step away from him. “I’m just headed to the mall real quick to grab a book I’ve been wanting to read. Just a quick in and out, then we can grab your milk. I’ve been wanting to see you again anyway!”

Jake thinks that may have been too forward for any normal person to say outright, but it’s true. He so desperately wanted to see you again. Up close. He needed to see you again.

You pause your step, turning back to face him and unintentionally scanning his outfit that day. He’s somehow even more handsome than he was the night you met him, nose slightly red from the cold weather and shoulders stiffened as if he’s trying to hide from the open wind.

He takes intense note of the way your eyes scan him, and there is an unintentional twitch in his pants at the way you don’t grimace at him. He knew you wouldn’t, after all, he does all of this for you. He’s clean shaved and dressing better because of you.

“Book? What book?” You ask delightfully, being an avid reader yourself. Of course you’re interested in connecting on a level that isn’t just safety with him.

“Well, I’m not sure if you’ve heard of it but it’s called ‘[redacted]’.” He side eyes only slightly at the anticipated response from you. It was…a bit different than he expected.

You laugh at him. Genuinely, you’re laughing at him, with a snort and all. A laugh that he would argue is cute if it weren’t for the fact that he feels like this could be the first time he fucks up with you. He doesn’t want you to laugh at him for reading this book. He wants you to love that he wants to read it. Its one you wrote on your list, why are you laughing?

“Wait, you’re serious?” You deadpan, standing stiff and shocked. “Even I wouldn’t admit to having already read that very book…” Your eyes trail off before you smile.

You sense that he’s gone rigid not from the weather, but from your mocking and you lighten up instantly.

“I just didn’t expect to meet such a handsome guy who reads about a woman who…well, you know.”

It’s like you could do no wrong as Jake’s eyes tune into yours and you see a sense of sparkle in them. You’d never understand how that simple, off-hand compliment to him is making his heart spiral up, down, and all over behind his ribcage.

Physically, he can feel his body react to you addressing him as handsome. As if he doesn’t react the same way any time you look at him, or speak to him, or come near him at all. You think he’s handsome. You just admitted it, and he can’t help but already feel high, like he’s on top of the world over it. You must like to look at him, much like how he loves to watch you.

Still, he knows he needs to play it cool despite how in love with you he is right now. You’re the one who seems eager, which means he’s done his part for now, and your chase for him is just beginning. If he comments on your compliment, you’d think of him as too eager. Too ready. As if he had some underlying reason to continue speaking with you.

Plus, Jake actually has no idea what the book is about, but he was very willing to find out today when he got home. You, however, seem to be keen on discussing it.

“Know what? I only want to read it because it was recommended to me by someone.” He lies.

Your face falters.

“Oh, was this someone a girl?” You don’t look up, nor do you realize that the two of you have started walking toward the mall regardless of the insecure conversation at hand.

“Ah, well, maybe.” Jake chuckles.

He’s in love with you, he’s so in love with that disappointed sound in your voice when you asked him that. He could even, perhaps, sense a bit of jealousy. So soon too? Already? He knew he was right, he was made for you and he couldn’t be happier knowing that you’re picking up on it.

“A girlfriend?” You pry unintentionally, noting how that book is generally geared toward a female audience who would only ever read a few passages to a man if they were, well, into that sort of dynamic.

“Why do you ask?” Jake encourages you to boost his ego even more, unable to stop himself from smiling.

“The book is about a woman who kind of, kills men and eats them, among…other things.”

Oh, wow. He loves you so much right now, even if you spoiled the story for him.

“Interesting. What makes you think my girlfriend would ask me to read that?”

“It certainly wouldn’t be a brother or best dude friend recommending it to you, let’s be real.”

Jake raises his hands in mock defense, ready to see if this makes you like him even more.

“Alright, I’ll admit. I knew what it was about–” He’s lying. “No one actually recommended it to me, I just didn’t expect you to have already read the book, nor did I expect to have to explain myself why I want to read it.”

“Explain away, Jakey, we got a bit of a walk ahead.”

A nickname?! Already? You're entirely naive and in need of him being beside you. God, what would have happened if some other cunning liar appeared to walk into you and offer to escort you back and forth? You would have swooned the same fucking way! Anyone with eyes can see that you’re flirting, and anyone with a dick can see that he’s eating it up faster than you’re able to put it out for him.

Regardless of if you seem too quick to trust, he’s proud that it’s him who got to you first, because now no one else will ever get the chance to even consider it.

“Oh, I’ve got a nickname now? That must mean you like me.” He offers you a sort of drunken dopey smile, only because he feels drunk. Like a lost puppy just invited into a warm and caring pair of arms, really.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You’re the one going to fulfill your fantasies about–” You try to joke as if he’s one of your best friends from highschool. You remember when you were able to freely have a sense of humor, but before you can finish your joke, you pause, realizing that despite mocking the book and his interest in it, you still don’t know him on a level to do this. Nor should you have given him a nickname so soon. God, how stupid could you be? “Nevermind, I actually have the book if you want to borrow it.”

You have issues getting too close, too fast. You’re already clinging, watching his building without full intention, and chasing after him down the street simply to speak to him. You don’t know where this feeling inside of you comes from but you can argue that it’s solely due to the comfort he brings to you. You don’t know anyone else in this fucking city save for a few co-workers. When you moved here, you promised that you’d keep to yourself until you heal and feel safe on your own again.

Yet, here you are. Clinging to the handsome man who lives across the street. Clinging to a fucking man. Again.

And you know, even though the two of you are already halfway to the mall by now, he doesn’t mind that you didn’t bring up borrowing the book until now. He was prepared to buy it, and even more prepared to see where your eye wandered just to learn about more of your interests within the rows of books.

“Really?” He smiles and tilts his head at you, turning both of you around with a gentle touch to your arm, very nearly wanting to snake his hand into your pocket and hold your fingers against his. “That’s great, let’s go get you some milk then!”

And you know, when he waited in the lobby of your apartment, you almost invited him upstairs to your actual space. You didn’t though. And when you handed him the book, and he handed you that milk, only then did you realize that one of the jugs of milk in your possession will have to spoil…and it sure as fuck won’t be the one he just handed to you.

Why? Because you create silly little attachments to the rare moments in your life when you’re happy. This jug of milk is a representation of a lie he accepted, as well as him accepting you and your silly ways of making it through the day.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The panties.

The scent is dull as he reads and rereads passages of a book that many would consider improper for anyone to even write, let alone publish. Every victim is him, and everyone, everything else is you.

It’s hard not to be aroused when you so readily invited yourself to be around him that day. Even now having your number, the self control he needs to not frantically text you that he’s in love with you is eating him from the inside out.

The panties. Still offering the most private part of you but no longer being enough. The camera, offering glimpses of your alone time within a space you don’t quite realize has been shared with him. The taste of your shower wall, your toothbrush, the smell of your clothes, the softness of your sheets, and the trauma within your written words— none of it is enough anymore.

And now, the book, offering plenty to the imagination, turning the pages as if he were playing with your skin, still not enough to satiate him any longer. Nothing could ever satiate the need within him to love you to his full extent or to have you love him back. Especially after having already met you, after feeling your hand against his in that brief handshake, after hearing your sweet voice say words for him to hear and him alone.

Has he not waited long enough for more? He’s seen you up close and personal, he knows all of your interests that you display, he knows your voice, knows your footsteps— still, he can’t get the feeling out of his mind. What it felt like to stand in the spot within your apartment that ultimately led to his even deeper love for you. His confirmation that he loves you, even.

And now? Texting is easy when he feels this desperate to get to you again. He doesn’t care to be overwhelming to you because he is overwhelmed. You’re the one who approached him last time too, so if anything, the universe is on his side and he fucking knows it. He can feel it in the air with each little breeze that flows past that little crack in his window. He can smell your shampoo with each cold gust of wintery air, and see your reflection in each little snowflake that falls.

He wants you to chase him again, so bad. Only so that he knows he can chase you harder now.

Jake: hey so i read the book, are you free today?

The way you immediately respond is telling.

You: what did you think? insane story, right?

Jake: not sure if you wanna have this conversation over text…

You: it’s ok, i figured you had some freaky fantasies if you wanted to read that, im not gonna blackmail you or anything

Jake smiles, he’d let you blackmail him any day of the week.

Jake: hmmm what does that say about you then?

You: anyway, im a bit busy today but maybe we can catch up tomorrow?

No, no no. Tomorrow is centuries away. He knows you’re home, he can fucking see you over there, he can smell you, he can sense you. Not to mention, he’s not an idiot, he can see the way you avoid certain conversations and steer the direction despite making the same joke yourself.

Silly, silly girl, thinking he can’t read you. If anything, he’d think by now that if you’re really so afraid of the world, or him, or anyone else, you’d have closed those fucking blinds by now. You haven’t though, have you?

Maybe you know people watch you. Maybe you love it, hoping that he’s the one doing it. Maybe you’re some sort of exhibitionist. Maybe that’s the reason you read that fucking book. Maybe that’s why you were trapped in your relationship before.

There has to be a reason for it at the end of the day, and he hopes that it’s him. You love his jokes, and your avoidance is only further proof that he’s breaking past your little sad and pathetically thin walls. You’d probably love to know he watches you, that he protects you even when you don’t think he’s around.

And yet, you’re busy today?

Guess he will be busy too, then, as he stands to his feet and begins to dress himself while texting you.

Jake: Oh, you’re busy? That sucks, i guess i’ll find somethin else to do today then

You: I know :( ill make it up to you soon, promise!

The buzzing in his brain and need for you is too strong to stay away. That little promise means the world to him, especially because you’ll be making it up to him sooner than you anticipate. You can be busy all you want, but that’s not to say he can’t accidentally end up at the same place as you, right?

Besides, what if your ex comes around? What if some guy gives you unwanted attention and there’s no one there to defend you? After all, his body reacts with euphoria each time he has gotten the chance to be with you, and he craves that feeling once again. You’re going to give it to him, not anyone else.

Jake: alright, be safe today...

You: always am!

Jake: text me when you make it home safe

You freeze as you read his words, feeling something in your stomach flip. You can’t tell if it’s butterflies or anxiety. Still, you find yourself smiling and your face feeling a bit fuzzy.

He wants you to be safe. That’s more than you could ever ask from someone, because god knows you’ve always managed to find yourself in the most unsafe situations with very little effort.

You: ok!!! ill text you when i get home so you know I didn’t get run over or something

Jake: it’s more just to make sure someone doesnt kidnap and take advantage of you lol

You freeze again, this time fully aware of the anxiety in your belly.

Jake: pretty girls like you gotta be more careful, so don’t stay out too late or ill worry

For a second, you almost wanted to cancel your plans. For just a second, you felt good today. You felt safer than usual.

You: i’ll come home before sundown….thanks

Jake smiles, hoping you recognize the risk you put yourself in each time you leave your apartment without him beside you. Thankfully though, you will never be without him again if he can stand it.

Besides, you suck at safety. Following you around is far too easy, and popping up when you least expect it is even easier.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Spotted you.

There you are, with that same puffy jacket he’s grown used to seeing you in considering he only ever really gets to see you outside and on a cold day. In that puffy jacket, you’re walking into a local coffee shop and his eyes sharpen at the image of you through the window.

The barista takes your order with too much interest, in his opinion. He can see you not take notice on how everyone in this city wants to take you from him. He wants you to notice so bad, he wants you to only want his eyes on you, and to only want his voice in your ear.

He breathes in the icy air, bottom lip shivering only a little bit at the idea that other people look at you the same way he does, even more so the fact that you might be here to meet someone that isn’t him. You might have friends, and he knows better than anyone that you do not need friends. They’re always out to get you anyway, you should be here with him, not someone else.

He breathes a sigh of relief followed by a heavy shiver when he sees you take a seat alone, and he dips away slightly when you glance out of the window as if you’re trying to be aware of your surroundings.

With him around, you don’t need to pay attention to the things around you, he’s hyper aware for you. He could tell your coffee was finished before your name was even called to alert you.

Honestly, he’s so hyper aware of each person who walks into that coffee shop after you. He sets themself up for failure in his head. Each person gets a stare of daggers, because what if they’re here to meet you? What if you’re trying to make friends? What if you’re trying to date? After all, this little errand must be important to you considering you told him you were too busy to see him.

His eyes continue to fall back on the barista though, staring at the line of sight this man offers to you every few moments. As if he wants to catch you looking at him too, as if he wants you to give him a reason to talk to you, as if he is a better option than Jake himself could be.

There is a hate within him at this moment as he seethes outside of the cafe window, staring down his competition. He almost completely forgot to look at you until he felt a rush of air push past him and he notes two people walking into the cafe now.

As he comes back to reality and leaves his little realm of hate for the handsome barista at the counter, his worst nightmares are confirmed. Not only a woman walks in and takes a seat at your table, but a man too. You hug them. You hug him.

Why is everyone all over his girl today? His heart drops. His quivering bottom lip intensifies with the wind, the temperature mimicking the feeling in his heart as he watches you touch other people, and spend time with them. He really, really, needs to know who these people are and why they’re close enough to hug you like that.

He pats his chest through his hoodie with a breath in an attempt to rid himself of the stress weighing on him, and then straightens out his back before taking one last deep breath and making his way inside of the cafe, straight up to the counter.

There, he tries to balance his breathing as he makes eye contact with the very same barista that keeps pushing dangerously close to a boundary line. His name tag states the name “Jay”, and Jake can’t help but grimace and roll his eyes at how similar their names are.

He grimaces more at hearing the man speak to him, as if he has all the right in the world to exist on the other side of that counter after staring at you the way he did.

“Sir? Can I–” The barista repeats himself for a third time, feeling small under the gaze of the customer in front of him.

“Just a shot of espresso.” Jake dead-pans, still glaring at the man.

The barista nods awkwardly, shifting his eyes to you on instinct now that he’s done it probably a million times since you’ve walked in. He’s noticed you for weeks, he can’t help it.

Jake, on the other hand lets out a deep and angry sigh from his nose as he tosses his card onto the counter, clearing his throat at the barista.

“You seem to have an eye for girls.” Jake lightens up, holding up the short line of one person behind him.

“Oh–” The barista laughs shyly, “am I that obvious?” he adds, dipping his head down as he slides the card through the machine and turns the screen back to his customer.

“Unfortunately.” Jake narrows his eyes at him, intentionally and violently clicking the number 0 for this asshole’s tip. “and I’d suggest you contain yourself, because that’s my girlfriend you’re drooling over.”

And then he walks away, ignoring the way the presumed “Jay” looks at him in embarrassment. He can tell he wants to apologize, and rightfully so. Jake does deserve an apology for how shameless this idiot was, but he doesn’t let him as he makes his way down the counter leans against it with his palms, facing away from you and pretending he can’t sense your warmth from here.

And then he starts counting in his head.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven…..Thirteen….Twenty si-

“Jake?”

His heart immediately swells at the way you’d recognize him anywhere, even if he’s facing away from you and he makes sure to make eye contact with the barista when they both perk up at your voice calling out a name. He watches the confirmation in Jay’s eyes click, the confirmation that he is never to look at you again.

And still, Jake’s heart swells even more in this instance because he could recognize you too, even if you’re faced away from him. Still, he has to keep his cool. One, to make sure he doesn’t appear too eager to see you, as if he definitely followed you here. Two, so the barista doesn’t see his lie. And three, so he doesn’t snap right here, right now over the fact that you hugged someone that isn’t him. Two someones that aren’t him.

He doesn’t want to interrogate you so immediately, he wants you to give him the answers yourself as to who these people are.

He pretends to not hear you as he stands facing away from you and grabbing his espresso from the barista who avoids eye contact.

Jake gives a small and fake nod to the barista, as if to show you that he didn’t say anything out of pocket to him. As if to show you that he definitely didn’t just claim you as his girlfriend so the freak behind the counter doesn’t try anything with you.

Then he turns to eye the room, looking for an empty seat, avoiding the corner where you’re blatantly staring at him.

“Jake!” You wave your hands to get his attention, standing up half way as if to stand out from the crowd of puffy jackets and warmed cheeks.

His eyes land on you, where they rightfully belong and he notes the smile on your face upon seeing him.

Oh, so you did want to see him today. You didn’t smile like that at the barista, or to the people in front of you. There’s another confirmation within him in reaction to this, that soon enough, what he said to the barista won’t be a lie. In fact, it gives him the confidence to push for it now more than ever.

He raises a brow in mock-surprise to see you before shooting you a half wave, moving his eyes to other areas as if to imply he doesn’t want to intrude. As if to say he isn’t here with you intentionally.

And then you wave again, raising your voice a bit and saying his name yet again. His eyes land back on you, and the way you pat the seat next to you.

Perfect. Yes, invite him. Prove to everyone who you belong to. Prove who it is you want to see right now, who you want to sit by, who you want to look at. And then, tell him who the fuck these people are. Explain why you hugged them, and why they’re somehow more important than he is.

As he heads over, bowing politely to the man and woman sitting across from you, he seats himself next you to closely. So close that he can feel the friction of your jacket against his hoodie, and immediately his skin is raised in goosebumps as he looks at you and your bright eyes.

He wants to lay claim to you so badly. He wants everyone to know that you are his, and he is yours.

“Such a huge city and still we manage to run into each other–” Jake chuckles playfully, looking at you with a soft and gentle smile before glancing at these strangers across from him. “If we keep meeting like this I might just have to ask you on a date.”

He says it like it’s final, like he’s laying that claim he wants so badly. As he says it, he looks the man that you’re with dead in the eye with exuding charm and confidence. Still, the way you shift awkwardly next to him doesn’t go unnoticed as he turns back to you and takes a sip of his drink.

“Would that be something you’d be interested in?” He whispers gleefully to you, saying it as if it’s a joke because the people across from him lend you both a smile and a laugh at his blatant and forward words.

“Jake, this is my mom.” You finally speak out to avoid his question, watching him attach his lips to the hot cup of espresso he ordered, as if to only breathe in the warmth of it. “And this is my uncle.”

Jake immediately stands and bows politely. He appears panicked, embarrassed, to everyone else in the room. He’s not though. Not at all. He is relieved to know that now is his chance to make some sort of impression, now is when he should show his best side. All worry of who these people in front of you are is thrown out the window for the time being, actually. He feels like he’s on top of the world, killing two birds with one stone almost. Or three, if you count Jay.

If he can get your family to like him the same way he got you to like him, maybe you’d be more inclined to circle back around to his half-joke of taking you on a date.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He stutters, not looking the two in the eyes. “I must have sounded so rude just now, I didn’t mean to intrude–” He continued, only to be cut off by your mother.

“Don’t mind us, Jake, is it?” She says kindly, glancing to you and then back at Jake. “You must be the boy with the pretty smile who she mentioned the other day.”

Jake does take note of your mother’s reluctance to accept him immediately, and given your past, he guesses that would make sense. Her kind words and smile does not match her eyes when she speaks to him initially, but he’s going to change that now.

Besides, his heart just grew four sizes bigger at your mother outing you to him. You said you like his smile? You said it’s pretty? Fuck, he’ll show you pretty.

“I can only hope so.” He responds, turning to you and smiling even bigger, noting the way you curl in on yourself in discomfort at the awkward situation. “Always so shy, don’t worry, I think your smile is even prettier.”

And then Jake trails his eyes to your uncle, proud of the way he felt you shiver at his words.

The man simply judges him, then looks at you with a raised brow.

“Jake helped me carry my groceries, he lives across the street from me.” You say, feeling stupid and small in the way your mother just fucking embarrassed you in front of the only person you like being around in this city. Still, that judgment from your uncle is called for, you think, and you’ve got to calm his worry for you somehow.

“Couldn’t just let her carry all that back herself, afterall.” Jake shrugs. “I was raised to know better.”

Both your mother and uncle nod, going silent for a few moments.

Then, as if Jake isn’t even here, your mother prompts the conversation that the three of you must have been having before Jake came over.

“So, have you decided yet?” Your mother asks with no context for Jake to pick up on.

“Yeah, actually–” You look down, then slightly press your leg against him from under the table.

As much as you’d prefer this rather telling conversation not to happen in front of Jake, you reluctantly speak in a way that gives little to no context.

His heart explodes at that simple touch though, ears going deaf from any words you’re saying anyway, and he very nearly shoves his hand under the table to place upon that very same leg.

Somehow, he holds back, his hand shaking inches above your leg before forcing it back into his own hoodie pocket.

“I’d like to stay here.” You say confidently now, looking at both your mother and uncle.

Your mother nods with a smile, your uncle following her reaction.

“I think I feel safe enough for now.”

Jake wants so bad to confirm that you’re safe with him, despite knowing exactly what you’re talking about within an instant when he definitely shouldn’t know.

“Well, you know there’s always a room at home for you if you need to come back–” Your mother seems reluctant to say too much, looking over to Jake with a smile that becomes more genuine. “Keep an eye on her, I’m sure she’d appreciate it.”

He knows you’d appreciate it and he has gone above and beyond in terms of keeping an eye on you. It’s like, he’s fucking perfect for you.

Jake nods to her.

“I’ll do my best.” Jake smiles, now shifting his body up and standing back to his feet. “Well, I’ll leave you guys alone.” He continues, now looking at you. “Text me when you get home safe.”

And as he walks away with a triumphant and hidden smile, your mother immediately smiles at you in the same way. Seemingly lightening up about Jake as a whole, briefly anyway.

“Text him when you get home safe, huh?” Your mother pries, kicking you gently under the table and watching you squirm and release the blushing mess that you’ve tried to hold within you for the past few minutes.

“Ah, yeah, um–” You try to speak, unable to explain the safe feeling you feel around Jake. You’re not sure if it’s a crush, or if it’s just you taking advantage of someone who is being kind. “He’s kind of already been watching out for me, so that's partially why I’m choosing to stay here.”

Your mother nods.

“I can admit that he’s cute–”

You nod to yourself at those words before your uncle interrupts.

“And polite.” he adds, sipping his strong coffee and offering a look of possible approval.

You dead-pan stare at both of them, knowing exactly where this conversation is going.

“He likes you.” Your mother continues shortly, looking away from you and not allowing you to hush her of the motherly-instinct. “I’m just saying, honey, please be careful. I know he’s cute, and polite, and seemingly safe. But I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

You look down with internal confirmation.

“It’s okay to live a little, go on that date with him, but go somewhere public first.” She continues. “Don’t move too fast, you’re still–”

Everything is overwhelming in this moment. Especially when the truth is put into words and offered to you by the two people you trust most.

“Healing.” You look down at the table as you finish her sentence for her, thinking of how close Jake was sitting next to you. Wishing he was still next to you because somehow, you felt more safe with him than you do your own family right now.

“Don’t sit there and act like I don’t know how you act when you’re being shy about a boy…” Your mom adds to the silence, quirking a brow and looking to her brother. “You’ve still got your pepper spray if you need to use it.”

“It’s not that I’m worried he would like, be like him.” You interject. “ I just don’t know if I’m ready to act on a stupid crush so quickly.”

“That’s good, and I’m glad he makes you feel safe. Just please hold onto that feeling, don’t rush just because a cute boy is carrying your groceries.” Your mother starts again, only to be cut off.

“Okay, okay. Can we talk about something else now?” You roll your eyes.

Your mother keeps to herself after this, and all you have in your head is wondering how and why your mother seems to partially advocate for this man after a mere ten minutes of meeting him. You can see her try to keep you safe despite her distance from this city, yet she seems to be hoping that Jake is a legitimate defense system for you too. It’s as if she’s looking for comfort in him as well.

She’s never been one to approve of your crushes either, but somehow, this time is different. And these days? You trust her intuition better than your own.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You: i made it home safe

Jake: good, im really glad. sorry for accidentally ruining your plans today

God, if there’s anything Jake should be sorry for, it’s not that.

You: it’s ok, i was happy to see you.

You: my mom seemed to like you

Jake’s cheeks burn reading that as he goes from staring out his window to looking at the screen of his phone. He can tell that as soon as you got home, you headed for your bathroom and you must be in there right now readying yourself for your evening routine, possibly even naked before a shower to text him.

It’s not strange at all that he knows you’re over there all alone, texting him. His body reacts like it always does, and he’s already snaking a hand down his pants just to rub against himself to satiate his body and keep it under control for a bit longer.

Jake: woah really? how so?

You type to him almost immediately after each of his responses.

You: idk, they commented on how you asked me on a date or whatever, thinking it was serious.

Jake: i was serious

You pause, standing at your bathroom sink with your toothbrush in your mouth when a smile creeps across your face. It feels like the first time you ever got asked on a date in highschool, and that little dance of happiness would have been fucking embarrassing if he were to see it.

Even worse than your reaction to that, your mother would be terrified to know how you shift entirely when you’re alone and talking to Jake. She would faint knowing that you intend to immediately go on a date with him, and she would immediately wake up and faint again knowing that you find yourself letting your guard down entirely around him as well.

It’s safe to say that, maybe you definitely have a crush on him. Why else would you react this way to how forward he is? Why else are you somehow so willing to go on a date with him despite wanting to stay as far away from relationships as possible?

Why is he so fucking irresistible? Why is he making you feel this way?

You: you were?

Jake: yea, what are you doing rn?

He’s typing with one hand, legs spread wide while he slouches in his chair and skews his head to stare through your empty window. He thinks back to the day he stood in your living room looking down at his own window. You could come into your living room now and watch his body jerk with each movement of his palm against himself, phone in hand as he texts you and know exactly what you do to him.

Each passing moment between his last text to now doesn’t bother him as he works himself up, chewing on his bottom lip and focusing even more on that lit up room across the street, feeling the familiar arousal bubble in his belly as he rips his hand away to grab that same pair of panties he stole from you. There, he shoves them down his pants along with his hand, groaning at the fabric stretching around him like they always do.

So soft, so gentle.

As for you though, you’re feeling the panic flow through you as you stare in the mirror at your reflection. Right now? He wants to go right now? You just washed your face, and you were about to take a shower.

You: bout to take a shower, why?

He groans more at your typed words, remembering the taste of that shower wall, imagining your pretty face with little droplets of water running down it. Imagining droplets of other things running down it. God, his confidence is so high, he’s so fucking horny right now, and he still manages to text you with that one shaking hand.

Jake: ill come get you right now, i want to go on a date with you

Jake: can i?

His persistence shows his interest in you and it’s so attractive to you right now. Immediately you find yourself spitting, rinsing your toothbrush, and wiping your mouth clean before opening your makeup box again.

You: right now?

Jake: right now.

You: can you give me like twenty minutes?

There are explosions surrounding him right now, or rather, a very intense orgasm. He scored a date with you and he feels the confirmation run straight through his body and out the head of his cock, all over your panties, his hand, and his pants. And god, he’s a little frustrated that he spent so long trying not to get his own cum on your panties, solely to keep more of that scent of you, but he fucking got a date.

Who cares? He can surely just snatch another pair, possibly right off your legs.

After all, you asked for twenty minutes surely to try and look nice for him. Fuck, that means you want him to look at you the way he always has been. He wonders if you’ll do something different with your makeup, or if you’ll put on a different kind of outfit. All for him.

Finally for him. For him. For him.

Jake: of course, text me when you’re ready

And then, he just watches as his body makes an attempt to relax. The way you wisp back and forth like a ghost through your apartment, rushing to find something to put on. Even from here he can see you smiling. Running around in a bra and panties, he moans slightly, almost considering fucking his cum into your panties again but ultimately choosing to stand and change him. Mostly because he sees you think hard about your outfit. The way you throw on a shirt only to take it off and slip on a dress instead, despite the cold weather.

He’s going to give you that same effort, eyes glued to his window as he blindly searches his closet by touch alone.

He wants to text you again after you run your hands down your stomach in that dress you put on, he wants to tell you to keep it on. He wants to tell you how pretty your matching pair of bra and panties look under it. He wants to say so much, do so much, and containing it is so fucking hard.

Yet, still, he manages.

When you stand in your living room, that same dress still on, he watches you throw a jacket over it, he can’t help but wonder if you could sense his hope that you’d wear that. He wants to have a reason to keep you warm, a reason to put his palms on your legs to warm them up, a reason to be close to you. After all, this is a date, you’re inviting him to be close to you, right?

And then his phone buzzes and he struggles to tear his eyes from the image of you standing there with your phone in your hand.

You: okay, im ready!

Jake immediately sighs, staring up at the ceiling to get his body to calm down. His dick is twitching wildly in his pants again, his hands are sweating, his entire body is vibrating. It’s finally happening.

You’re going on a date with him, and he’s had the perfect place planned and in his mind since the first day he met you from your window.

He’s quick to throw on an outfit, slip on his shoes, and run out his door.

Jake: on my way outside now, meet me in your lobby in 5

You’re fucking beaming. For the first time in a long time feeling like you may be the luckiest person in the world. There is no pain within you as your butterflies overtake every amount of angst you had about meeting someone under circumstances of dating.

You’re here to get away from your ex, not to fucking ban yourself from having a good time. You want to have fun. You want to stop being afraid.

And god, Jake is like, the perfect guy for it.

You enter the lobby to find him standing proudly against the wall, propped up in a lazy way and already looking at you with a dopey grin. He looks flushed, proud, and happy. Arguably, he’s even more attractive now than you ever thought he was before and instantly, you’re ten times more shy than you’ve ever been.

“There she is,” He smiles, spreading his arms out to invite you into a hug like he tried to do before, and he’s shocked that you step into his grasp. “was starting to worry I was too forward.” He adds, immediately burying his face against your neck.

You smile against his chest in the hug, feeling so warm for the first time in your life. A warmth that comes from something other than rage or tears. Already, you can feel your body shiver at the way his arms wrap tightly around you in a hug that doesn’t feel condemning.

You don’t feel trapped against another person, and it’s a welcome change.

“You definitely were a bit too forward but–” You pause, stepping out of his grasp and feeling the empty air replace his arms. “It made me feel better about liking it.”

Jake gives a reassuring smile before lending his hand to you and instantly intertwining his fingers with yours, shoving them into his hoodie pocket, and dragging you close to him before leading you out of the building. He’s reeling from the hug, feeling the way your breasts pressed up against him, the way you sighed against him, and the way you smelled while you did it.

God damn.

In his head, that hug from you felt better than any sex he’s ever had to date. His entire body reacted as to be expected, to the point he was thankful that you weren’t as close in the hug from the waist down as he wished you would have been. You would have felt that reaction, you would know how you wake his entire body up.

Thankfully, the cold air outside lends him a hand in taming his lower half, and also lends your hand to him to keep warm.

“Where are we going?” You ask out, voice gentle in the night air, unaware of how the man next to you is buzzing from his feet to the top of his ears.

He’s struggling not to lose his mind.

He can see your breath, and wants to swallow it. Each huff and puff, each word, he can visually see it in this icy night, and he knows it has to be warm despite the minty toothpaste he can smell on you.

God, he knows what your mouth tastes like, the smell sending shivers down his spine at the reminder of how he sucked your essence off of the bristles you must have used just minutes before now. He wants to kiss you, he wants to kiss your breath, he wants to devour the air and aura that surrounds you when you’re next to him.

Honestly, the cold weather does not freeze his bones. He feels entirely hot, leading you to his favorite place in the city.

“Nothing big, I assume you ate with your family so I figured we could skip the regular date stuff. I want to take you somewhere quiet and pretty.” He looks over at you, hoping you see how much he adores you.

Somehow, you do notice something in his eye. A shine, a glint. It’s something you’ve never seen in any pair of eyes that looked at you. His pupils seem to be dilated and his eyes almost look black, still, that smile reaches those same dark eyes, indicating to you that he is happy.

He looks happy to be with you right now.

And on any other day, a man you barely know saying he’s taking you somewhere “quiet” would scare you. But….you’re not scared. You’re looking forward to it, actually.

He gives your fingers a squeeze as he waits for you to speak back to him, leading you easily through the city streets.

“Quiet and pretty?” You say, looking up at him. “Does this place happen to have a heater?”

It doesn’t. But that’s what he’s for.

“Unfortunately, no, but–” He goes to say, and you stop walking for a second. “I was going to say I could keep you warm, I mean, if you want. If not, I can take you somewhere else.”

You look down, weighing the options on whether you want to be that close to him so immediately, or if you’d rather follow the general rule of dates. Dinner, movie, goodnight kiss. You already hugged him, and you can admit to liking the way his arms hugged you. Maybe you’re not entirely against the idea, despite feeling alarm bells deep in your brain go off, telling you that you’re moving too fast.

And then you wonder why you start walking again, and why you’re imagining him holding you close, huddling your body against his to keep you from shaking. Intimacy. You’re thinking of intimacy.

Why does it feel good? Why does the thought excite you?

“You’ll keep me warm?” You reluctantly ask, your fingers twitching in his within that hoodie pocket.

“Yeah, I mean, if you’re comfortable with that. I don’t want to seem too forward–” His fingers squeeze yours tighter, as if to comfort you.

You sigh, chuckling.

“Like I said, I like that you’re forward— just, no funny business okay? This is a date, not a hookup.”

Jake pauses, glancing away.

As much as he’d love to lay you down against cold, moon-lit grass and taste the entirety of your body. As much as he wants to hear you call out to him, feel you react to him, he knows what’s inside of your head better than you do, he knows he needs to tame that need for now. The fact alone that you even imagined it for a second, just to find out if you want that now, just to tell him that you don’t want it yet, is enough to satisfy him.

It won't be long until you’re asking for it anyway.

Plus, he would never do anything to you without your consent. If he’s allowed to keep you warm tonight, that alone is better than anything he could ask to experience.

“No funny business.” He uses his other hand to hold out a pinky to you. “Jesus, what kind of guy do you think I am?”

Suddenly, you feel guilty as you take his pinky into your own and seal those words into a promise. Jake picks up on the way your face falls.

“I haven’t been on a date in over a year. Been avoiding it if I’m being honest,” He starts to explain as a way to soothe you, guiding you gently through a large gate. As if to connect with you on your level of discomfort. “My last relationship ended pretty badly, I didn’t think I’d ever want to date again.”

You perk up at his words, looking at him as he guides the two of you through a dark and grassy area. You can still tell his eyes are shining as he shares this with you, making you feel special and….not alone in your anxieties about this.

“I don’t know what it is about you, or why I immediately want to skip all of the casual shit when it comes to dates but, this is where I wanted to bring you.” He smiles when he stops you, standing in front of you and grabbing your other hand, holding it, and shoving it into his hoodie pocket alongside the other. “Not because I was trying to come onto you. If I was going to do that, I would've asked you to come home with me.”

You feel his icy knuckles and squeeze his hand hard to try and warm it up. Maybe to comfort him, or to thank him?

“I didn’t even bring my ex here. I actually came here to get away from her sometimes.”

You look away when the blood rushes to your cheeks at the way he’s talking to you. He’s acting like the two of you have been on at least ten dates by now, but it’s only been one.

Somehow, some way, you lean into it. Into him.

“My last relationship wasn’t very good either. Was so bad that I actually find it hard to believe that I’m on a date with someone right now, I still don’t even know if I’d know how to love again.”

You pause, closing your lips tightly and feeling awkward for saying the L word so fast like that. Implying that you don’t know if you could love Jake.

“Would you feel better knowing that I’m not asking you to think of the future?” He offers, slowly lowering himself and pulling you to the bare ground with him.

The dirt is cold, but Jake is warm.

“Just worry about how you feel today, when you’re with me. If you’re enjoying it, there’s no reason to worry about what you might feel–” He reaches for you to turn you around and drag you onto his lap before quickly enveloping you into his arms. “Or what you might not feel.” He pauses with a squeeze against you. “Is this okay?”

You don’t understand why it’s okay that he’s being so touchy, but he is warm, and any shiver that threatened to hit you now only comes in the form of butterflies seeping out of every pore on your body. He’s pulled you into his lap as if to keep you from having to sit on a blanket-less ground, and his arms are around you as if to remind you that blankets only exist for people who don’t have him.

It takes so much self control not to pull away when you feel his chest breathing against your back, but it takes even more self control to not turn around and cling onto him in the same way. You’ve wanted to feel safe so badly, for so long. You wanted to feel this way on your own though, without the need to lean on someone else.

You’ve never wanted to be a damsel in distress, but goddamn are you fucking distressed. Your trust issues run deep, so fucking deep. Anyone can see that you are a broken person, but not everyone would accept you for it.

Jake, right behind you, right under you, holding you so close like this the moment you’d let him? He accepts you entirely, and it’s so enticing to you. You can’t turn away from it, you’d only fail yourself.

You’re so fucking drawn to him, no matter how forward or blatant he is.

“This is a bit overwhelming,” You start, pulling away from him slightly and turning to look at him. But then you see his face, and how sincere he looks. “But I’ll try to appreciate how I feel right now.”

“Does that mean you’re okay with this?” Jake whispers, pulling you back against him and pressing his face against your shoulder, breathing in deep to get that scent of you into his lungs.

You don’t notice the way he does it when you nod in response, and the way he’s entirely enamored with you at this moment. He wouldn’t be able to let you go if you asked him to, not when your body is relaxing against him and you’re letting out a small hum of cautious approval.

“Are you warm?” He continues, shifting his legs only slightly from under you, mostly to make sure you’re coat is offering enough padding under you to keep from feeling the blood pumping in his pants right now. And then, his hands move from his hug down to your legs, big warm palms not moving from the expanse just above your knees, instantly warming you.

He can feel your shivers calm, and your regret for wearing this dress die.

You nod again, still cautious but also wanting to fight the fear within you so that you can really just enjoy this moment of closeness with someone else. Even if you just met him. Even if you’re afraid. His hands feel like they belong there, as you stare at the way he doesn’t move them higher or lower. They’re really just there to keep you warm, and surprisingly, you don’t know if you could ever feel cold around him at this point.

“I'm scared of this, you know?” You comment into the night after a few moments of silence, reluctantly holding onto his wrist, pushing them down your leg a bit as if to imply he should rub them.

He follows your movement, wincing from behind you in a hidden attempt to contain the fact that he very much wanted to moan at that. Feeling your legs against his palm feels so….igniting to him.

“I know.” Jake says in a matter of fact tone, confident in his words as he bores holes into the revealed skin of your leg when he moves his hands back and forth.

“You do?” You lift to turn and look at him, but his hands instantly move to your shoulders as he turns you away from him, forcing you back against him in a tight hug.

Mostly because you do not need to see his face right now, he knows he looks fucking gone.

“Anyone can see that you’re terrified.” He comments seriously now, placing his head on your shoulder and pressing his cheek against yours. “It’s no wonder I feel the need to protect you.”

You’re shocked that you don’t flinch at feeling his cheek against yours, noting that his lips are just inches from yours. You try to erase the images of kissing him so soon, you’re too weak right now. He makes you feel so weak.

Instead, you try to think hard about his words. Trying to ignore the way you felt his jaw move against you. Trying to ignore your immense attraction to the closeness he’s giving you. Are you really that obvious? Are you really this desperate to be close to someone? Anyone?

“Hoping that someday you’ll tell me what it is that makes you so afraid, but for now? Just know that I’d never do anything to make you feel like that.”

You think harder.

Much, much harder.

An uncanny feeling in your gut wonders how he finds words that are so meaningful to you. It’s like he can read your mind. It’s like your life is a book that he’s read a thousand times.

But that’s impossible. You haven’t known him for long, maybe he’s just….a really good person. Maybe you’re just lucky to have bumped into him that day. Maybe it’s lucky that your ex instilled a fear into you so deep that you found yourself living next door to the man holding you right now.

“How do you do that?” You comment quietly, feeling warmer than you ever could have expected to on a night like this.

“Do what?” He smiles, now loosening his grip on you, pulling his face back, and spreading his legs so that you’re now sitting between them, rather than on him.

After all, if he had kept you there, you would have felt what was happening in his pants by now. The way you don’t run away from him, the way you let him touch you has him reacting for more than he ever knew he could. Even after releasing his arousal just before the date, he can already feel the ache. The need to crawl into you, the need to make you fucking love him.

“It’s like you tell me exactly what I need to hear. It’s fucking weird.” You continue through his movement, scooting back as if to huddle yourself against his warm chest, in turn bumping his pathetically hard cock against your back.

You try to hide that you’re a little disappointed that you’re no longer on his lap, and the back of your thighs are now freezing against the grass. He, on the other hand, is so fucking thankful that you still manage to not feel what his body is trying to show you right now. His arms immediately wrap back around you, holding you against him much like before.

You really don’t know why you wore this fucking dress, without tights no less.

“It’s weird?” He questions. “It’s weird that I wouldn’t do anything bad to you if you gave me a chance?”

You look down, feeling those words hit you in the gut. It is weird, but then again, you’ve never really had a relationship with a person who wouldn’t bring harm to you.

“I–” You pause, thinking as hard as you can without oversharing, hands reaching up to grip his forearms, pressing them tighter against you as if you want him to save you from…well, him. “I have my reasons. I’m not trying to call you weird. It’s just weird how you show up in my life at a time where I think I needed this the most.”

He smiles.

“Well, you’re going to have a hell of a time trying to get rid of me at this point.”

You smile back.

“Likewise.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Three more dates have taken place since that first night in the empty park. Each date that followed took place in the same spot, with the same weather, and the same offered warmth.

By now, you find yourself unable to avoid thoughts of him. Thoughts of how badly you like him after learning of his interests, after seeing how he carries himself, and how he treats you over all. The way he seems so in tune with everything you could ever want or need, filling you with only safe care rather than horrifying uncertainty.

Jake likes the same books, tv shows, music, movies. All of them line up near perfect to your own favorites and suddenly you believe that the red string of fate exists. Jake is careful when he touches you, never pushing and only offering, suddenly, that red string of fate is attached firmly to your pinky. Jake looks at you like he sees one of the world's wonders, which was uncomfortable at first for you, but you think that maybe the other end of this little invisible red string is tied to his other pinky.

Your entire life of fucking horror led to this point, where the universe finally gave you the person you’d want to be with for real. Any other man would make you feel cautious, Jake though? Jake does nothing but make you feel like, for the first time, you don’t need to have a guard up. The fact that he managed to do this so fast is a bit telling on your end, that perhaps you put too much faith in people, but goddamn, it looks like he works so hard to show you that you’re not wrong about him.

On your last date, he even tried to kiss you. You panicked, backed away, and felt so fucking embarrased, until he texted you a mere fifteen minutes after parting ways and apologizing, stating that he didn’t know what came over him.

He apologized to you. He didn’t take what he wanted despite your fear, he didn’t push or pull, he simply allowed you to exist beside him, in front of him, even behind him if it’s what you wanted at the time.

God, you should have kissed him. You should have kissed him hard enough for him to realize that you’re trying.

You’re trying to be a person again, for yourself, for Jake, for your mom and uncle. Still though, he doesn’t know the shit you’ve gone through, or the shit you’re running from. You feel so dissociated at times, wondering how strange or odd you must react towards him during the dates he takes you on. Yet, he doesn’t falter. He doesn’t question. He doesn’t force you to feel like you need to apologize at all.

And this is all you can think about now. About Jake. About what he’s doing, about how he must be feeling today, about how he wears his hair, and how his alternating hoodies always offer warmth on a cold night when the two of you are sitting closely together on the ground just…talking.

The thoughts of him don’t stop and it’s kind of nice. Having your fears so loud in your ears every day, anxieties of your ex eating you alive, and fear of being alone in a big city can get quite loud and exhausting after so long of not being able to escape. Thoughts of him are the only thing that calms your mind lately, so you probably wouldn’t stop thinking of him even if you had the choice.

Unfortunately, that choice is made for you today, once again, just two days after that third date with Jake.

A single text from an unknown number that shifts your brain into a fuzzy focus of terror. Your mother told you to change your number, and you really should have done it by now. You have no excuse as to why you haven’t, but you have the reason as to why you should have done it shining brightly in your notifications center.

The unknown number is just that, unknown, but you know who it is already.

Your fingers shake when you tap the screen and your eyes go dead upon the message. This confirms that your body will always know when he is around, you will always have to feel this way for as long as he’s thinking about you.

Unknown Number: heard you got a job over at [redacted company name], mind if we have lunch?

You don’t know who told him, you don’t know how he found out where you are, or where you work. All you know is that now, the buzzing thoughts of Jake fizzle out and are quickly replaced with that of searing reminders of what happened, and what will likely happen if your ex is really trying to get to you already.

It’s the fact that the police did nothing. It’s the reality that they wouldn’t let you procure a restraining order. It’s the fact that he got away with everything he did to you, and wants to get away with more. You’re just a girl, alone in a city who thought this was the best course of action.

You can’t even bring yourself to tell anyone that he texted you. Your mother would scold you for not changing your number fast enough, despite already knowing you haven’t done it yet. It would somehow be your fault that he found you despite his insistent attempts to keep you as his, as if you belong on a chain tied to a tree in his backyard.

You call out of work, explaining the situation. Your managers are already aware of your safety concerns and the situation at hand, and you’re lucky that they really do live up to the promises they made when you took the job.

All three sick days can be used right now if you need them but after those three days, you have to either work from home and be willing to come into the office if you are needed, or you need to put in your notice and leave.

Naturally, you take the sick days, and you intend to work from home.

Despite not feeling safe here, considering the few items in your apartment that went missing not too long ago, it’s safer than walking to and from work. It’s safer with Jake just next door. It’s safer with the security guard in your building’s lobby.

You’ll be okay. This will pass.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake is at a loss, nearly ripping his hair out day by day when you don’t text him back.

When he looks to your window, the lights stay off consistently, the curains are fucking closed. You haven’t left your apartment for work, you haven’t texted nor have you called.

It’s been six days, nine hours, thirty eight minutes, and nine seconds since he last saw you and the only thing he can think of is that he fucked up.

He tried to kiss you, and you eased him into a rejection by pretending everything was fine until you felt comfortable enough to stop talking to him. For three days now, you haven’t responded to him.

Three days without any hint of you, and six days without feeling you in his arms.

He’s going insane and not even jerking off helps calm him down like it normally would. He feels like he could lose it at any moment as he paces his apartment with a buzzing non-stop energy within him, stopping at his bedroom window to stare for hours only to see no movement in your apartment. Only to still see the lights remaining off. Only to see the blinds locking him away from you.

Sure, he’s got the grainy footage of you from weeks past, the footage from the day you got dressed for your first date with him, and the footage from each date after that but he doesn’t have you. The last two days contain footage of blinds swaying, that’s it.

He was so close, he really thought he was. He thought he had you, he thought you were almost ready to let him move to the next level. He thought you would accept if he were to ask you to be his girlfriend, he thought you would let him kiss you, and let him into your apartment, and let him exist within the air you breathe.

But you left.

So, naturally, he works up the courage to grab his camera and hook it into his pc. Obsessively searching for any sign of you within the footage from last night. He tries not to think about missing a glimpse of you as he is away from his window, seeing as how you must not be home. You must have left days ago just to get away from him.

Until…as he fast forwards all of the footage, he sees a light flicker on.

The timestamp reads four in the morning, and the light stays on for a mere minute and a half before turning off again.

One thought floods his mind.

Did you find out that he watches you?

Then another thought.

Are you hiding from him?

And one last thought.

How can he explain and still get you back?

And as he continuously paces his apartment, unable to focus on anything other than knowing you’re in your bedroom hiding, nothing on this earth could calm his frantic brain.

Should he go over? Should he come see you? Should he text you again? Should he–

Pacing the same path in his apartment for far too long, nearly ripping his own hair out, he stops in his tracks at the sound of his phone. He knows that vibration like his own mother tongue by now. That’s you. You’re finally texting him back.

You: are you mad at me?

The relief is instant and near orgasmic. The first contact in what felt like an eternity for him in his head, he takes a deep and calming breath. His eyes flick back to your window, where your apartment still appears to be hidden from his view.

Jake: never, i was just worried since you stopped talking to me.

You stare at your phone, scrolling up the some fifty text messages Jake sent you over the last several days and feel awful for not once checking your phone. To be fair, you’re afraid that every message is from your ex and you eventually just ended up turning your phone off.

After all, you remember what happened the last time you blocked him. That wasn’t even an option for you at this point if he really knows where you are.

The fear inside of you is so strong by this point that you can’t help but want Jake to be with you. Even inside of your apartment, where you’ve yet to invite anyone aside from family. You just want one single day of calm, one single moment of feeling okay. The past three days have been nothing but a paranoid delusion for you.

Each sway of your curtains in front of your blinds is a person who isn’t meant to be inside of your space. Each footstep in the hallway outside of your apartment isn’t other residents, it’s someone trying to get inside. Those missing batteries from weeks ago? It was him. Your missing panties? He has them.

Just like Jake, though unknowing to you, you have been pacing much like he has. You’ve been on the verge of ripping your hair out too.

You: i think we need to talk

Jake’s relief turns to curiosity, to confusion, to horror, to excitement.

Jake: of course, love

Jake: do you want to go to the park again tonight?

You shake your head as you text back with a firm “no”, wanting so badly to explain to him why you’re acting the way you are, and why you’ve always acted so defensively. You need him to understand so that he doesn’t leave. You need him solely because he is all you’ve got right now.

You: no

You: ill explain everything but can you like…

Jake’s ears twitch as if he can hear your words, with your pretty voice, and that cute pitch it has when you talk to him.

You: i don’t like to invite people to my apartment but I'd really just rather you come over.

In less than a second Jake’s heart threatens his health. Yes, yes, yes. Fuck yes. After days of festering in love rot for you, months actually, you’re finally inviting him. All forms of negativity towards your lack of speaking to him lately is laid to rest instantly as he jumps to his feet and makes his way to the bathroom to clean up.

Jake: just tell me when, you know I’m here when you need me.

It’s a shame that he said that, really, because you take it to heart. You need him now and will probably need him far past his ability to give to you. He will grow so tired so fast, surely, but you can’t deny nor can you avoid that you need him.

You need his comfort, his safety, his smile, his dilated pupils each time he looks at you, and his careful hands reluctant to hurt you.

You: can you come now?

Jake is already out the door, following the same path he took the first time he went to your apartment. Honestly, it’s quick enough to remind you that he’s just next door.

Jake: im in the lobby, where do I go?

You pause, briefly realizing that you’re inviting a man into your apartment just so you can feel safe from another man you once invited into your life the same way. You were so enamored with your ex, never thought he could have done what he did to you, but he did. He shattered you from the inside out through years of meticulous work, and he’s still doing it now, all because you trusted him.

It’s driving you to act as recklessly as you once did, and it’s like you’re compelled to do it. You feel forced to trust Jake, despite none of the force coming from him. It’s coming from deep within yourself. Your brain is repeating whispers of “do it, do it, do it.” when it comes to him.

You can’t resist it.

You don’t want to resist it.

You’re fast when you text him your floor and room number, and somehow still find yourself shocked at how quickly there is a knock on your door.

Jake didn’t need your informational text though, he knew exactly where to go. He knows where he belongs, and the excitement within him to have an explanation from you is one thing. The excitement of standing inside of your apartment with you is another.

His thoughts remain on that camera he placed back into his window, knowing that he will finally see himself in the footage with you, in the very spot he thinks about the most. He’s worked so hard for this, so hard.

And his hands are shaking when you open the door, his heart is shaking when he takes in the scent he remembered from before, his legs shake as he takes a step in with a face of somewhat genuine concern for you, simply to hide the way his entire body is fluttering in euphoria.

“Hey,” You start, trying to be nonchalant, trying to ignore that you look like shit. “Sorry for the mess.” You add, gesturing to not only your apartment, but at yourself as well.

“Aw,” Jake coos, poking out his bottom lip before opening his arms wide as he hears the door fall closed behind him. “Come here.”

Instantly you do, and instantly your face is hot.

Searing. On fire.

Jake freezes, feeling the warmth against his chest paired with the death grip your arms instantly lock him into. This grip on him is painfully heavy and seeped with emotion, he can feel your hot tears soaking into his hoodie and it raises goosebumps across his skin.

This is where he belongs.

“I’m sorry–” You hiccup, feeling stupid for instantly crying at the touch of another person. “This must seem so annoying to you.”

“Sorry for what?” He asks gently, finally managing to come back to your reality to hug you and hold you there, wanting nothing more than to stay like this forever. “Is everything okay?”

He can’t bear to let you pull away, so he holds you tighter against him, willing those salty sweet tears to seep through both layers of his clothing to his skin. Somehow, you still manage to make him fall harder for you. He’s so fucking in love with you. The way you cling to him like this? You’re everything he’s ever wanted and more.

You try to pull back though. Once, twice, and by the third time he finally relents and lets you back away.

You take a deep breath, meeting his gaze for just a moment and seeing the concern in his eyes. Pupils still dilated like they always are, but brows knitted together, with a small tilt to his head to offer a silent question.

You turn away from him to hide your face. You feel so seen, so vulnerable, and so stupid for involving him in this.

“It’s–” You pause, catching your breath and wiping your cheek as you try to make your way back to your safe space. Your bedroom. “It’s a long story.” You finally mutter out.

Jake notes where you’re headed and doesn’t want that. He needs his camera to get this, he needs to look back on this moment later, he needs to remember the smell of your tears, the feeling of your pain, the suffocating atmosphere within this apartment.

So, he takes a seat on your couch, blatantly ignoring how your voice fades before getting closer again.

You look at him when you go back to the living room, confused as to why he doesn’t follow you.

“You mentioned not inviting people into your apartment, don’t you think it would be best if I stay here for now?” He offers, giving you instant comfort in the way he doesn’t try to invade your space. “Come over here.” He continues, patting the couch cushion next to him and glancing to your window for a moment.

You watch him continue his own train of thought, shifting to reach for the blinds and open them. “It’s so dark in here, let me see you, love.” He offers again, going back to patting the couch after letting the sun in and making it seem, somehow, more enticing. “Please?”

You listen, quietly making your way to him and sitting closely against him.

“I thought I scared you away because I–um,” He gazes at you as he speaks, seemingly studying the emotional baggage under your eyes. “tried to kiss you.” He trails off, very much wanting to kiss you again.

“That didn’t scare me.” You shake your head, still trying to avoid his eye now that you know the sun is allowing him a true view at how destroyed you must look. “It’s just, we’ve been on a few dates now and I like you– alot.” You say more to yourself than to him, as if you’re confirming internally that you need to explain some things to him before giving him the option to run away. “I feel like I–”

“I like you.” He interrupts you. “Alot.” He continues, becoming hyper-aware of everything in the universe. He can feel the hairs on his head grow, he can hear the birds a country away, he can taste the sunlight spilling against your watery eyes.

You like him, and he likes you.

And he takes intense note of the way you dip your head, a small smile curling up on the permanent frown you previously had.

“But Jake,” You say, letting your face fall again. “I think we need to talk about some things before, like, you decide if you really like me.”

That’s silly. He knows everything about you already. He’s in love with you, nothing you could say or do will ever change that. He wishes you could see it, he wishes you knew that he was made for you.

“There is nothing you could say to change my mind,” He says sternly, turning towards you and attempting to make you look at him by grabbing your chin gently between his pointer finger and thumb, “Hey, look at me.” He urges you, pleased in the way you do turn to look at him.

He’s stunned. The whites of your eyes are red, your eyelids are puffy, you appear to be so tired, and still you are so beautiful to him.

For a moment, you take note of the way he looks at you and wonder how he could genuinely think that way and show it so blatantly. Are you the one who is acting recklessly here, or is it him? Somehow, it brings you comfort, even if you feel the need to force your eyes away from him.

He doesn’t let you, and you let him not let you.

Your eyes stay on his.

“I don’t think you realize how much I want to be with you.” He admits blatantly, forcing you to forget your train of thought for a total of three seconds before your eyes really lock onto his. “I don’t think you’ll ever realize that.” He continues.

“Jake,” You mutter out, feeling so full of emotion that you weren’t quite prepared to accept yet. “Please,” You mutter again, continuously losing your thoughts, only to gain them back moments later, and then lose them again when his eyes stare through you. “Please, let me explain something before you say that.”

He pulls his eyes away now, closing them and pinching the bridge of his nose out of frustration before breathing out and adjusting his eyes to you again.

He nods reluctantly, relaxing against your couch and throwing his arm around the back of you, pulling you to lean against him, where you can instantly hear the way his heart is beating.

It’s beating fast. So fast that it’s almost distracting to you if you think too hard about it. So, you don’t. You try to ignore the way it beats against the top of your head just so you can finally give him some insight on why you haven’t texted him, on why you didn’t let him kiss you, on why you’re so reluctant.

“Remember how we were talking about our last relationships?” You finally say, feeling his hand on your shoulder rub little shapes against your shirt in a comforting way.

He hums, continuing to trace his own name against your sleeve as he confirms your words. Because of fucking course he does. He remembers everything about you.

“Mine was bad.” You pause, willing the emotion to say in your throat. “Really bad.”

“How bad?” Jake encourages you instantly, already knowing the answer.

To be fair though, he’s been waiting to hear the words from your own mouth. He’s been pretending to not know this entire time, holding in his rage when he’s in front of you, seeing how it affected you, feeling what he did to you through your lack of trust and affection.

“I think you could probably guess, considering I didn’t let you kiss me.” You try to say without going too deep into it. “Considering I’m afraid to let you touch me.”

“But you did.” He says calmly, running the hand on your shoulder down to your waist to pull you in closer. “You did let me touch you.”

You recoil internally.

“I let you hug me, and I let you keep me warm.” You admit. “I don’t know why I let you though. I wasn’t afraid when it was with you.”

Jake knows exactly what you’re trying to say to him, and loves that you admit that he’s different. He is different because of you and for you. His stomach flutters at the fact that you know that, and you accept it.

“Because I wouldn’t hurt you.” He continues to echo his words to you, seemingly giving you a final answer to a question in your head that you have yet to find an answer to. “Because I wouldn’t let anyone else hurt you.”

God, the warmth that floods your body is what you’ve been wanting. This is why you wanted him to come over. This is why you need him. You can’t do this alone, you want him here with you.

“I think, deep down, you know that I wouldn’t let anything like that happen to you again.” He continues, talking for you, talking as if he is inside of your head.

“I can make an assumption on what he did to you and I don’t need to know how far it went, but it’s not going to keep me away from you.” He takes in a sigh, releasing his next words with a breathy chuckle. “I have always wanted to be with you, and I still do.”

He feels the way your breathing evens out as you listen to him.

“Did you stop talking to me because of this?” He finally asks, letting the question hang in the air before his hand grips your waist tightly, holding you so close against him that you’re nearly on top of him. “Did you think I wouldn’t fight to have you?”

The words are brash and hard to swallow, but that’s not why.

If you could, you would have gone the rest of your life without telling another person what happened to you. You don’t want it to define you, and you don’t want Jake to ever feel like he needs to fight for you.

You shake your head.

“No.” You say sternly, now wrapping your own arm around his middle and hugging him as tightly as he does to you. Your head dips below his chest, up against his ribs as you curl yourself into him entirely, preparing to tell him. “I moved here to get away from him–” You start, feeling your body shiver in each spot your ex hurt you from before. “And I think he found me.”

You feel it before Jake realizes it himself, but it’s like all of the warmth left his body within seconds. He stiffens, his grip on you loosens, and he trembles for just long enough for it to be noticeable.

“What?” He says, breathing in through his nose and staring straight ahead, seemingly out of it.

“He texted me a few days ago, mentioning he knows where I work, asking if I want to have lunch with him.” You try to explain. “I freaked out, I called in, and I haven’t left my apartment since.”

“He what?” Jake repeats, now slowly turning to you.

For the first time when you meet his eye, you see his pupils constrict. They’re not dilated, in fact, they’re tiny. Horrifically tiny. And if you look hard enough, it’s almost like they’re vibrating against the pretty brown color of his iris. The simple act of watching them change like that felt uncanny. You pull back from him, shocked at the expression and not quite recognizing him compared to moments before.

And then, he realizes your reaction to him and is immediately pulling himself back to you. He pushes that shocked rage back for now. Just for now. His pupils fall back into their permanent dilated state. His face softens, his body relaxes, and then he’s holding you again.

“No one can hurt you when I’m here.” He finally whispers out, trying to keep his voice even and warm to calm you down. “So, he found you? So what?” He continues, letting his confidence take over. “I already told you, he can’t touch you.”

For some reason, his initial reaction sinks into the back of your mind as he holds you like this and says things like that. Why? Because you believe him.

Somehow, you believe him.

“Can you promise me that?” You ask reluctantly, taking everything you can get from Jake at this moment in an attempt to feel safe, to feel better.

He nods instantly, and keeps nodding as he shifts his head to look down at you. This prompts you to look up at him, making direct eye contact and holy fuck. It hurts him not to dip down and make you forget that anyone else in this world exists aside from him.

From this angle, as you look up to him with a promise swirling around the two of you, he knows he’s got you. You’ve never looked at him like this. There is no hint of doubt, curiosity, confusion, or fear in your eyes as you wait for him to answer.

All he can do is stare at you, breath caught in his throat at the constant realization that he’s here. You’re against him, you’re talking to him, you’re looking at him, you’re–fuck, you’re everything he’s ever wanted or needed in life.

“I can promise you that, and more.” He finally whispers out to you, knowing you can feel his words spread across your forehead. “I think I’d do just about anything for you.”

You nod, keeping eye contact with him for a moment more before lying your head back against him and breathing a big sigh of relief.

“I guess I’m yours then.” You sigh out, feeling comfortable saying the words.

And oh.

Oh, the fucking joy that rattles every bone in his body. The immense amount of love, adoration, and wonderstruck devotion he feels for you fills his body from the core, he can feel it seep out of him with each breath, each tear that reaches his eye, each goosebump, all of it.

You’re his. You said it. With your own voice, your own words, your own thoughts, right up by his heartbeat, you fucking said it.

“Yeah,” He says in his own shaking breath, blinking away the first tear he’s felt in his eye for years, wanting to squeeze you so tight that you go numb. “You are.” He continues, swooping down just slightly and prompting you to look at him again.

Those dark eyes are dazed, and once again you feel like he sees you as the only other breathing person on this planet with him. It’s….so nice.

Silence hangs in the air as you look at each other, seemingly confirming a relationship that feels more uncertain to you than it does to him, but you know you’ll try. You want to be his safety too, you want to give him everything you have.

And then he says it.

“Does this mean I can kiss you now?”

It hurts you when you hear the way he says it. So uncertain and reluctant to cross a boundary. You’re trying to confirm his feelings for you, the feelings that you feel so lucky to receive. You’re trying to make him understand that he’s the only person you’re comfortable with. He’s the only one you’d ever let kiss you.

You’ve made him hold back so much, you can imagine.

You nod to him first, watching him almost immediately close in to do just that, but you pull back on instinct.

“Just–” You raise a hand in front of him, putting your fingers to his lips to halt him. “Let’s go slow.” You say, already knowing he will accept it. He will go slow for you.

“Love, you really just don’t get it.” Jake smiles, averting his lips and landing a kiss to your forehead, relishing in the feeling of your skin against his lips for the first time. “I have enough patience for both of us.”

And if only you knew how true that statement is. For him, he’s already been waiting for this moment since before you knew he existed. Despite his small moments of losing control, needing more, he could have waited even longer for this moment with you. All of it is worth it in the end if he gets to hear you call yourself his again.

You are his. You have always been his.

And you decide at that moment that he is right. He’s been nothing but patient with you, and has done nothing to make you feel otherwise.

A kiss wouldn’t hurt, a few kisses wouldn’t hurt.

So, you lift your head just a bit more, closing your eyes softly and waiting for him to do it. Waiting for him to kiss you, waiting for him to–

“Little more,” He encourages you, causing you to open your eyes and look at him. “Just a little closer.”

And you do. The least you can do is close the distance for him, especially after what he just learned about you. He probably wants you to be the one to approach him, he probably doesn’t want to cross a boundary, or scare you.

For Jake, the way you listen without a hint of hesitation is…well. It scares him. It scares him how every assumption he had about you was right. Given, he knew he would be, but experiencing it right here, right now, is amazing to him.

He keeps his eyes open through all of it, seeing your heavy eyes stay closed as you place your lips on his.

It’s so soft. Your lips are plush when they’re puckered against his own, soft, so fucking soft. He chokes back a relieved sob at finally getting this from you, hiding it with a thick swallow and his hands rushing up to cup both of your cheeks in his hands as he lets himself feel you like this.

He’s thought about it so much. Just these few seconds of feeling you kiss him already exceeds his expectations. He can feel your eyelashes flutter on the tips of his fingers, and it only makes him tilt his head just a bit to slot his lips against yours in a more comfortable position.

He doesn’t move after that, nor do you. Both of you just feel it.

It’s the first time you’ve kissed anyone since your ex and even he didn’t hold your face against his like this, despite swearing he loved you more than life itself. You can feel the burn at the corner of your eyes, and you breathe out through your nose to try and keep them in.

You don’t even notice the tears that escape until Jake is tasting them, relishing in what you’ve chosen to give to him. Never realizing how good pain can taste until it comes from you, and then he pulls back just slightly.

It was nothing but a long and drawn out act of lying lips against each other. There was no tongue, there were no frantic movements. It was just…a first kiss, that lasted what felt like years to you, and only a split second for Jake.

He blinks down at you, noting the beads of tears bunching up in your bottom lashes and uses his thumb to swipe just under your eye. That view alone of seeing his hand do it was enough to confirm for him that he is no longer chasing. You are his, and never will another person get the chance to look at you as closely as he does.

“Have I ever told you how pretty you are?” Jake smiles when he says it, feeling your tears nourish his body.

You nod, still blinking up at him.

“In passing, on dates. Never like this though.” You admit in a small voice, feeling a bit shy with the way you feel entirely new when he’s with you.

“I’ll tell you every day.” He says, leaning down to connect his lips with yours once again solely because he can’t choose between staring at you or kissing you now.

All of his senses are in overdrive. Kissing you, looking at you, sitting on your couch in your apartment, none of it will ever satiate his need for more, more, fucking more of you. And all of it is happening right there, in front of his camera.

He can relive this time and time again for the moments he can’t be with you.

You stay silent after that, alternating between the same long and simple kisses and staring at each other until you can see the sun shift positions in the sky. Sometimes he will say things during this time, sweet and passionate words that only make you feel safer and safer in your own space.

Up until you feel his body shift and his hands pull back to his own body.

You look at him as if he just interrupted a very important moment in your life, and in a way, he did. You could sit with him like this for three hours more if he allowed it, but unfortunately, nature does tend to call.

“I’ll be back–” He whispers right up against your lips, knowing that you’re already growing familiar with how they feel against you. Smiling when your lips chase him as he stands up. He lends you one more. A quick kiss, one that reminds you that he isn’t leaving you. “Just a second.” He adds in an even smaller voice, heading straight for your bathroom.

You’re still so in awe at how slow the night feels with him, loving every warm second of it. You’re not thinking about anything but him and the way his lips feel. Hell, you haven’t even gotten a full glimpse of him since that first kiss.

So, of course you don’t notice how he somehow knew which door held your bathroom behind it, or how long he stayed in there. You weren’t paying attention at all as you flop back and do your very best not to kick your legs out of happiness at this moment.

You finally feel comfortable, even while a threat looms just outside of these walls. You have a boyfriend now, one that appears to be willing to stay beside you through all of it.

You’re happy.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

All good things come to an end but at least this time, it’s temporary.

The night with Jake felt much needed on both accounts, but it became one sided when your discomfort kicked in. It’s not that you didn’t want him to stay, above all you almost needed him to.

He was so willing to stay, you could tell just by looking at him sitting next to you with kissed lips and dazed eyes, far too late in the night to excuse what you eventually made happen. He had to go back home.

Again, it’s not because you didn’t want him to stay, it’s because you felt better. You felt so much better that you didn’t think even for a second that Jake wouldn’t come running back over if you so much as hinted through a text that you needed him. Not to mention, upon your anxieties calming, your rational thoughts took back over and reminded you that this was enough. You don’t need him to coddle you more, or to worry for you.

You’re not entirely ready to let a man sleep in your home, despite very much loving the time you spent with him here.

After all, you interrupted his day already by asking for him to cater to you. Cater he did, and you wanted to do the same for him. Kissing him one more time with an apologetic look, stating that it’s best if he goes back home for the night.

You still remember the look on his face when you walked him to the lobby. Reluctance, confusion, even a bit of panic. He needed another kiss, and another kiss you gave.

His shoulders relaxed at that, and you watched him turn on his heel and head back home to presumably sleep without you.

And while you slept well that night, thinking of him and how you somehow found a boyfriend amidst all of your fears, Jake was wide awake and reeling from the conversations he shared with you, the kisses, the cuddling, the smell. Fuck, it was so much to face by the time he made it back into his cold and dreary apartment.

He doesn’t belong in this space, he belongs just across the street with you. But, for your sake…he will continue the patience he promised you. After all, he could see in your eyes that briefly, you considered letting him stay.

And throughout the night, his calm overtakes him as he rethinks, staring down his camera and trying to decide if he should watch it back until you eventually text him after you wake up.

He ultimately decides to watch, checking that your lights are off one last time before moving to his PC and plugging in the camera. The first thing he does is fast forward to your first kiss, and then the second, third, fourth…

He rewinds it to watch again, almost feeling that you’re still against him when he presses play a bit too far back in the footage.

You pull away from him in that moment and suddenly he remembers why.

Before the blissful moments he spent with you, there was a moment of intense and uncontrollable rage within him. When you told him the less-than-detailed story of what your ex did to you, he was expecting it. He knew how to act surprised, he knew how to comfort you, he knew how to make you understand that your past wouldn’t scare him away.

What he wasn’t prepared for was to find out that your fears that he read in your journal were very real. Learning that your ex texted you and that he knew where you were was one thing, but hearing your voice crack upon telling him that he wants to meet with you is another.

Jake couldn’t have prepared a reaction for that even if he tried. Not one that wouldn’t have scared you, at least. And now, this night of reliving the hours in which it took for him to make you his girlfriend once and for all turned into a night of internet sleuthing.

Finding the man on social media can’t be that hard. All he had to do was search your name to find your family, which he has done probably a thousand times by now. He knew that within the public posts of your family, this guy had to have been associated somewhere.

And after three hours of finding nothing, a little hint of who this man is reveals itself.

So far into his searches, intense googling, and even yearbook studying, he finds an older facebook account of your mother and he slaps himself in the forehead for not double checking the profiles sooner, he could have saved at least two hours if he had found this earlier.

She must have made a new account after the divorce that she clearly had and shared with the world. It only takes a single scroll with his mouse wheel to find an image of her, another woman, you, and…that man.

Jake sits and stares at the old image, noting that it’s over four years old. Indicating that you must have been with this guy for a long time. You look happy in the photo, with his arm snaked around your waist and gripping you tight.

Jake, above anyone else, knows that grip he’s got on you. It’s the same one he had on you just hours ago but he tries not to think too hard, prying his eyes away from a happy you with that piece of shit. If he ruminates on this image of you with another man, he very well may resent you for ever letting another man be with you in the first place.

Instead, he has to force his eyes from the younger college version of you and look at the reactions of the photo.

Of course your mother is the type to have hundreds and hundreds of friends, most that she doesn’t even know in real life surely. The image has seventy three likes, and he goes through each and every single one until he finally recognizes the account of the very man in that photo, holding you, as if it’s his rightful place beside you.

God, safety concerns be damned. He cannot believe that your mother never deleted this account. Your ex probably looks at this photo all the time, he probably gets off on it too. Like he must think that because he had you once, he could win you over again. No. Jake will see blood before he ever lets that happen.

Jake rolls his eyes, giving himself a mental note to find a way to tell you that your mother should really watch her online presence if her own daughter’s safety is in danger, and then he continues his snooping on your ex.

One simple google of his name and city and Jake’s got a workplace address. Come Monday morning, you’ll never have to worry about this guy again.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Every. single. day.

Every day you have texted him since the night he left your apartment, and every day he hopes that you force him to be patient with you. Why? Because for the first time, he needs to stay distant for now.

He kept his promise. Maybe he even overdid it a little bit.

Given, he knows you’d probably be happy in knowing what happened, he just thinks it would be best not to tell you about it. For now, at least, he doesn’t want you to see the mark above his eye because if you find out what happened, perhaps you’d stop needing him for comfort. Maybe you’d even break up with him since you’d no longer need him.

He’s going to ensure that you are safe, and he’s going to keep you.

Unfortunately, Jake is awful at telling you no, awful at living up to his patience, and fucking horrible at staying away from you. When you text him this morning, just two days after he met with your ex, it’s not your usual greeting.

You: they need me to go to the office today…

God, has he no shame? No. He doesn’t. Never in his life could he even imagine being ashamed to instantly come at your beck and call. Though you have nothing to be afraid of anymore.

Jake: I’ll walk you there.

You smile at his immediate act of protection of you.

You: It’s okay, my manager is already on her way to pick me up. she knows about everything so i’m still safe!

He pauses, trying to look at the bright side of not seeing you. He’s not in fear of your safety like you are, because he definitely took care of the matter, but…under the guise of you still needing it, he doesn’t like that you’re letting someone else protect you on your trip to work.

Jake: oh

You stare at your phone, feeling bad that you haven't offered him much since he was last at your apartment. You don’t want him to think you’re avoiding him again, or to think that you don’t want to see him but…your manager has a car. If you were to let him walk you to work, you’d just be paranoid of being on the street.

You’d just feel bad for him to have to walk back home alone. And you’d feel even worse knowing he’d make the same trip to walk you back home.

You: i don’t want to have to walk to work, even if I know you’d be there with me. It’s just a huge inconvenience for you and a big safety concern for me…

He reads your text and scoffs. Do you still not understand that it’s what he lives for? He would walk across the fucking country if you so much as suggested there was a leaf on the ground that you wanted to look at. It’s not an inconvenience.

The inconvenience is you giving someone else the right to what he is supposed to be doing for you.

Jake: it’s ok love, just text me when you get there safe

You pause, unable to shake the feeling of guilt that’s threatening your brain right now. It feels awkward, it feels weird. You’re more than aware to know that he probably wants to prove something to you, especially with such a new relationship but you can’t help but feel like you’re the only person who needs to prove something.

You need his protection, but you don’t want to exhaust him. That is your biggest fear, even over the idea of your ex finding you. The idea of being wanted by someone you hate hurts far less than the idea of being unwanted by the man who is seemingly upset with you over not getting to walk you to work.

So, you’ll prove to him that this isn’t because he isn’t capable of protecting you. You’ll prove to him that you do want to see him.

You: Can I see you after i get home? I miss you.

His reactions are always so immediate as he slams his phone against his chest, sighing out of relief that you want to see him tonight. So what if he has a blatant and obvious bruise on his face? He will proudly present it to you, with a lie of course, solely because he knows it’s proof that he would do anything for you.

Jake: I miss you too :) just tell me when she’s bringing you back to me and i’ll be waiting in the lobby for you.

For some reason, those little typed words of “bringing you back to me” hits you hard in the chest. It makes you feel warm, happy even, as you head out of your apartment and straight for your manager’s car.

Sure, you might not be walking to work when they need you to come in for a while, but you’ll sure as hell be certain to make it up to Jake every single time. You can practically feel his excitement through his quickly sent texts, and you can’t help but thrive off of it.

Now, even as you’re worried that you’ll be at work, in a place where he can find you, you feel excited. You’re looking forward to getting to go back home, and looking forward to hugging Jake, and talking to him, and seeing his pretty face.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You don’t recall your work days going by this slowly, as you fiddle around your desk wondering why they called you here today in the first place. “For a meeting” Your manager had said. Well that’s all fine and dandy if it weren’t for the fact that the meeting isn’t scheduled until four thirty in the afternoon, the end of the fucking day.

You could have worked from home and just came in for the meeting if that was the case, but you’re already here and mostly just annoyed that you had to come at all.

You scroll your phone, do some paperwork, scroll some more, more paperwork, and then, just as you open your messages so you can complain to Jake about how stupid this work day is, you pause.

Suddenly, you’re hyper aware of everything and everyone around you, and all you can do is sit at your desk and pretend that you don’t see the man across the large room filled with fifty other cubicles, eyes scanning for you.

The only thing you know how to do is drop to the floor upon seeing that familiar smile. You’re not ashamed when you text your manager, telling her who security just led to your floor. You’re even less ashamed in the way you quickly rush to the back, around a corner, and out the fire escape.

You came to work today to miss not one meeting, but two, apparently. The only reason you even feel safe enough to power-walk back to your apartment is because you know exactly where your stupid handsome ex is, and you know exactly why he’s there.

He’s not following you right now, you’re sure of it. You told your manager exactly who he was before, and she knows exactly where he is now. Surely they’re distracting him, because your manager, bless her, already texted you that she would take care of it and that you should get home quickly.

Insane scenario, really. You should have just called the police, but it’s not like he fucking did anything within these city limits outside of take an elevator to your floor.

God, how did he even know you were going to be at work today?

And as you rush into your apartment building, not even knowing how long or how short it took you to get there, you feel your phone vibrate before you even get in the building’s front door.

Jake: why are you home so early, and why did you walk alone?

Instantly you call him, not thinking even for a second that it’s strange that he saw you come in. If anything, it was probably just a coincidence. He just happened to look outside and you just happened to be panic-walking inside.

“Come over.” You say, out of breath into the speaker.

Jake doesn’t even respond, he just hangs up and is immediately rushing to your building as quickly as his feet can carry him, for the first time unsure of what’s going on with you.

He thinks this may actually be his record time of getting to you even, considering you’re walking up to your door as soon as he steps out of the elevator and rushing up to you.

“What’s wrong!?” You hear his panicked voice from behind you as you unlock your door, stepping inside and grabbing him by the shirt, not even looking at him before pulling him inside.

“I missed you.” You say, desperate to feel safe again and running entirely on adrenaline as you lift up and kiss him harder than you ever have before.

Jake freezes, feeling your grip on his shirt and your hardened pucker against his lips. He doesn’t relax into it at all, in fact, the way you just grabbed him runs straight between his legs and all he can do is grab your shirt back, pulling you up more, kissing you twice as hard.

He knew you could be forceful, and somehow this is the last thing he was expecting. Did you rush home alone and call him with that desperate voice because you needed him? Did you finally give in? Does he mean this much to you already?

There are no words in this breathless moment as you let yourself spiral into a void with Jake. Feeling only safe when he’s with you, on you, holding you, touching you. You really should have let him walk you to work. You should have let him stay with you there, you shouldn’t ever let him leave your side.

You only feel calm when he’s with you, and god you almost hope your ex followed you here so that he can walk in and find you kissing someone else. Someone better.

“What happened?” Jake groans out his words between the harsh kisses that are quickly turning heated. Your grip on his shirt only tightens, and you stumble back to pull him with you.

You don’t want to talk, you don’t want to explain, you just want to…do this. You need him to give you that brain fog that makes you forget about anything else.

And it’s the first time he’s ever felt your tongue. So desperate to part his lips, so frantic, so sweet. The new feeling is more than he ever could have imagined, he feels like he’s almost forgotten how to kiss you back at this point. He lets you do all of the work right now, tasting inside of his mouth and fluttering your lashes against his cheek bone when you skew your head just a little bit to kiss him deeper.

He’s feeling everything at once, and the fact that he’s finally back in your apartment only makes this worse for him. Or maybe, better? He isn’t sure, but what he does know is that if you keep doing this, he won’t be able to hold back. How could he? You’re pulling him, nearly tripping over your own feet just to pull him deeper into the room– right there in front of that same fucking window.

Your tight grip on his shirt warms him along with knowing this is being recorded, right up from the brief amount of cold air that hit him on his run over. It was freezing, and he left without even throwing on his hoodie. Which is nice and detrimental to his health. It’s like you’re closer than you’ve ever been to him without two layers of clothing on, just this shirt keeping you from gripping his skin instead.

And he would let you, he would let you grip and claw through his chest to pull him further into your space. If you missed him so much, perhaps he wouldn’t need to hold back. Your kisses are bruising, and the little breaths you take with each tilt to your head drives his heart to tremble in his chest, he’s sure you may not want him to hold it in any longer.

He’s tasting you right now and only because you’re tasting him first.

Safe to say, he’s in shock and entirely turned on right now with the way you try to overpower him. He lets you. Yes, yes, yes. Why wouldn’t he? You’re not being shy and your defenses are entirely down for him.

You continue to stumble back with him, up until your legs hit your couch and he very nearly falls on top of you, but instead he holds steady, watching you fall from the close proximity against his lips with a huff after you hit the soft cushions.

He felt his shirt slip from your fingers in the descent and can do nothing but look at you in pure awe. You look like you want him right now, you look up at him the same way he looks at you.

Your pupils are dilated, your chest is heaving, and you’re just staring up at him with each breath.

“Jake?” You mutter in a slight whisper and furrow your brows at your findings upon finally looking at him. In your rush to kiss him and to have him as close to you as possible, you nearly missed it.

You reach a hand out and see him immediately take it, your gaze still trained on the bruise above his eye. You pull him to you instantly, landing your lips just below his right brow. “Why is there a bruise?”

He pauses to feel your breath hit his brow, entirely forgetting that he is a human being with flesh that can be marked by another. Forgetting that pain exists, solely because the kiss you just landed against that swollen spot felt good. So good.

“Ah–” He chuckles slyly, feeling you repeatedly kiss the area, bruising it more by the force behind your lips. “Dropped my phone on my face a few nights ago while texting you.”

You smile against it, finding the image endearing before pulling back and taking note of the way he hovers above you, not letting a single part of his body touch you without you prompting it.

“You should be more careful,” You smile, pulling him down more, until he is forced to use his arms on the back of your couch to steady himself. “Stay like this.”

He notes how you look so small under him, and he would want nothing more than to stay like this for you.

“On top of you?” He asks gently, allowing his hungry eyes to fall to a half-lidded stare, he tilts his head and inches back to your lips as he says it, entirely drunk on the image of you against the couch and totally barred from the outside world by his body.

“Yeah,” You sigh at how pretty he is close up, dark eyes taking you in with that deep stare. “Feels like nothing could ever get to me if you’re like this.”

He nods confirmation.

“You were scared of being alone today, weren’t you?” He asks gently, pulling back from the almost-kiss and now adjusting you to lay down on your couch, all so he can more comfortably fulfill the request you just asked of him. “Don’t go anywhere without me again, and I'll stay like this for as long as you need me to.”

You stare up at him and his words as he crawls onto the couch with you, over you. He nudges himself between your legs and only now do you understand what it must feel like to want someone to love. You never imagined you’d let a man be with you like this again, and yet there’s so much truth in his facial expression after he said those words. You can’t help but feel like you were stupid to ever think you could do any of this alone.

You never could do it alone to begin with.

“I won’t,” You confirm for him, lifting your hand to move a strand of hair that hangs over that darkened bruise above his eye. “So, stay like this.”

And he does, eyes lost as they glance at every part of your face, only closing his eyes to feel your fingers in his hair for that short moment. He lets out a long sigh, trying to keep his lower half from losing control, both understanding and not comprehending that he’s on top of you right now.

Only now, with his mind racing and skin reacting does he dip back down.

“Alright.” He whispers just before the kiss, intentionally relaxing his lower half and allowing you to feel exactly what you’re doing to him.

He feels you shift when you feel it, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he presses forward a bit more with his hips, making sure you feel his love for you in its entirety.

And when your hands find their way into his hair and you hum against his tongue, that’s when he pulls back.

“Sorry,” He admits, looking away from you. “Didn’t know you were going to just– grab me like that and kiss me.”

All you can do is smile at him, refusing to question why you don’t recoil at the idea of a man being turned on. If anything, you give in to the feeling of pleasure yourself. Especially after so long of not only denying it to yourself, but fearing it.

And the two of you just lay there, shifting from time to time to get more comfortable and to ease numb limbs. Just kissing. Just making out.

Hot, wet, warm kissing. To the point of being out of breath but not yet pulling back. Never wanting to be the first one to break the contact, but always wanting to be the first to dip back in. You feel his excitement throughout all of it, and you feel his patience as well.

He doesn’t even chase when your body arches into his intense kisses, he doesn’t ask for more, and ultimately, it doesn’t matter that your ex showed up at your workplace today. Because you’ve got Jake right here, on you, shielding you, holding you.

No one can get to you right now.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake holds you as you sleep, as tight as he can manage without waking you up. Thinking in his head over and over again about how pretty you are, how perfect you are, how utterly infatuated with you he is.

He wasn’t expecting you to fall asleep like that, gentle fingers scratching the back of his neck and holding him just as tightly. Whispering to him that you don’t want him to leave this time.

Muttering that you want him to stay.

He remembers so well how pretty your half-asleep voice sounded, with your half-asleep eyes, and half-asleep legs tangled in his own.

He didn’t sleep.

No, no. He couldn’t have. He didn’t want to miss a single breath or twitch of your brow as you dreamt. And he really didn’t miss a single one either.

The sun is long gone in the sky by the time his own heavy eyes force him to blink. It’s so dark in the room but you brighten it up for him just fine, with that pretty breath and sleeping face. His gaze falls upon the window as he smiles, hugging you even closer to him just to feel you nuzzle your nose up and against his neck.

He has yet to set foot into your bedroom since the first time he’s been here but that doesn’t bother him. You both fit perfectly on this couch. Forced proximity really lives up to its name in this city, apparently. You haven’t ever been without him, and you never will be.

He’s more than delighted to–

His thoughts shake the same way your phone does. A vibration sending his mind into a spiral at who could possibly be texting you at this hour if not him.

The phone lights up the room and he’s very careful to reach for it, smiling when your sleepy brain tells you that he’s reaching over you to hug you closer again, not to grab at your phone that you left forgotten on the table.

He’s so quiet, so careful.

The screen lights up his face, causing his dry eyes to water until they adjust to the notification.

A text message.

From an unknown number.

His eyes fall to you as he tries to remember the patterns of numbers you’ve typed into your phone, only to fail a total of three times before gently shaking you.

“Love,” He whispers, lying his lips against your forehead. “What’s your passcode?”

“Hmm?” You mumble against him, his shirt bunched up against your own lips.

“Your passcode,” He repeats in a more gentle voice, trying to keep from waking you entirely. “I forgot my phone at home, and I want to set an alarm.”

Your sleepy brain barely registers his words, or the fact that he’s lying. You felt his phone in his pocket when he was lying on top of you all night.

“Ah,” You sigh out, clearing the sleep from your throat as you whisper out the numbers to him, slurring out the last one as you fall right back into your deep slumber

Jake smiles, dumbfounded yet again by how adorable you are for him.

Now, with one hand unlocking your phone and the other tracing his name, once again, onto the fabric of your back, he swipes to your messages.

Rage.

Unknown number: so who is the new guy

Unknown number: get me banned from your work then you send him? fought like a bitch

Unknown number: i’ll be seeing you soon babe

Empty threats, he knows they have to be. Blatant lies and empty fucking threats. This idiot can’t do shit considering how battered he managed to leave him.

He thinks hard about the pain against his knuckles and even harder about how you didn’t note that they’re just as bruised as his eye. Thankfully, you were too enveloped in kissing him to take note of his bruised hands, or the lie about dropping his phone.

Jake easily deletes the texts and blocks the number, understanding that this little problem of yours is his problem to solve. And the worst part is that he knows exactly why this man wants you back. He hates that he understands the thought process from the root, knowing that if he, himself, couldn’t have you, he’d have to take desperate measures too. As if he hasn’t already.

He’s similar to your ex, who was far more handsome with blood on his face, and you can never know that. As similar as he is, mirroring the love and abundant weakness he has for you, he would never. fucking. hurt. you. Infact, Jake would set himself aflame before even imagining you crying for him to leave you alone.

Why would he set himself up for you to fear him? Your ex is a royally vacuous man, at least Jake has the smarts to treat you well.

Still, he gets it.

Who wouldn’t want you all to themself anyway?

You’re Jake’s though. You belong to him and only him, you always have, and that’s the only reason, he thinks, that you’re in this mess. Had you not tried to love someone before him, perhaps you wouldn’t have that little journal filled to the brim with night terrors and body shakes.

And as he ruminates on whether or not he should pay your ex another visit, this time without holding back, he searches the rest of your messages simply because he is entitled to it.

Every text you have is from your family and him. Good.

Your photos.

Most of you and your family, one specific photo of you. Deep within your camera roll, pressing your tits together, hand grabbing one of them, panties sitting prettily on your hips.

Who did you send that to? It’s old, your hair is different, but he’d like to hope it wasn’t to the man whose blood he’s currently craving. Still, he feels discomfort in knowing this photo was taken long before he loved you, and long before you loved him. Meaning, whether it was to your ex or not, it wasn’t for him.

His length stirs immediately still, so turned on by the image of you, the feeling of you currently against him, and the internal future promise to feel your ex’s teeth break against his fists. All of it is making his dick ache, as he chews the inside of his bottom lip and easily sends the nude to himself before deleting it from your phone forever. He’d better be the last to see this image of you, and the last to ever feel you hug against him like this. Then, he removes the sent message from your phone to hide the traces of it entirely.

You shift against him at this moment and he pulls back slightly to look at you, quickly closing out your apps, locking your phone, and tossing it to the floor. There, he wraps both arms around you, hugging you so tightly that you do wake up this time.

“You’re so cute,” Jake mumbles against the top of your head. “Wake up so I can kiss you.”

You smile against him, shifting your head up and finding his lips within the dark room. It’s soft at first, and you assume he’s going to pull back, satisfied with it, but he doesn’t.

It’s a quick movement, one that causes your sleepy groan to come out as a surprised yelp. He easily moves on top of you again, using his knees to spread your legs so he can lay between them, and his fingers locking into yours, pressing them into the cushion above your head.

“Sorry,” He pouts, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Sorry, sorry.” He continues, kissing down to your jaw, and just below your ear. “I’ve been so turned on all day, please.”

You chuckle, feeling the tickle of his plush bottom lip meeting the sensitive pulse point of your neck. Pleased with how much he wants you, and even more pleased that you kind of…want this too. But, you’re not entirely ready. Even in this perfect atmosphere with the perfect man. Room shielded entirely by night, warm lips kissing you, strong arms holding you…

You’re still not ready.

“Mm, Jake.” You hum, catching his attention and feeling him move his head back to look at you. “Not yet.”

And then you hear him let out a nervous chuckle, a sigh, and a whisper.

“Alright, baby.” He pouts again.

He moves back to your side and hugs you against him, trying not to seem as disappointed as he really is right now before you hear him speak again. You barely hear it, and you barely comprehend it within the comfort of his hug, but you do think you’ll remember it.

“Then when?”

Even as you fall back to sleep, you think about it. The fact that he’s already been so patient with you and that you knew it would run out eventually. You’ll lose him at this rate, and these soft arms vowing to protect you.

If anything, Jake has given you everything and you’ve given him nothing. If he finds out that you’ve already spotted your ex at work, he might really run away knowing that no matter what he does, you may never be ready to give him intimacy on a deeper level as long as said ex is around.

You felt how much he wanted you today right up against you. If you were any other woman, you wouldn’t have been able to pretend it wasn’t there. You would have touched him, you would have given yourself to him.

And god, you want him so badly at the same time. The only thing holding you back is the fear of it hurting. The fear of regression, of dissociation.

Yet, still, your dream state forces you to promise. You’ll be everything that Jake needs you to be in time, and he will be the only person able to teach you how to love again, the only man that will touch you in a way that feels good.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

part two

taglist: @skzenhalove , @taetaemylovie, @soocult, @nyanggk, @grilledbananas, @dneltrise, @becc09, @nielle002, @sjyfolder, @sd211, @moonmoongi, @sweetiewolfie, @ksnooppy, @woongkification, @laxatives4hre, @hiddensideofmoon, @mywaaw, @beomstarz, @multifandombtvh, @heeverseblog, @floclover, @elliesuh, @iloveleeknow, @crazydelulu, @dasa3040, @sluttyhee, @bethroedtojae, @cherryunie, @hiamlili, @seojunandsoju, @parksunghoonsgf, @jungwon-xo, @fxiryeon, @jwnghyuns, @juliesblogs

#enhypen smut #jake smut #sim jaeyun smut #enha smut

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gurugirl · 4 months

Text

3. The Unicorn | nanny!yn

Unicorn: An individual who is willing to join an existing romantic relationship. Usually a bisexual female.

Summary: The aftermath of that fateful night has lots of consequences. Not all of them are bad.

A/N: This is the final part! Based on this and this.

Word Count: 11.7k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, angst, mentions of divorce

The Unicorn Masterlist

You had to admit. The ensuite bathroom was really nice. But you couldn’t imagine enjoying the soaker tub with jets and soft fluffy towels as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You took off your little pearl choker as tears continued to fall down your cheeks and you removed your sweater and skirt. It all felt so pointless. You had wasted so much time fretting over your outfit and matching it to your pearl choker and your pretty panties all for everything to just blow up completely. Now your favorite pink pearl choker was tainted and you’d probably never want to wear it again.

You should have said no to the proposition. You knew you should have listened to your gut. It was going to blow up and someone was going to get hurt.

Your night shorts and matching top were soft on your skin but you hated it because you’d also chosen this set with the thought that both Kit and Harry might see it. But you’d be sure they never did.

Setting your alarm for 5:00 am you climbed into the luxurious bed and rolled to your side hoping you could get some sleep so you could turn your brain off as you replayed every moment in your head over and over again.

. . .

“I don’t want to talk about it right now, Harry,” Kit insisted.

“She can’t hear us in here, love. Come on. Let’s work something out. Things didn’t go like we thought… right? We don’t need to do it again.”

“I just… I need some space, H. That was a lot. I guess I didn’t expect it to feel that way. I can’t talk about it right now, though. I need to sleep on it. Away from you. I know I’ll feel better in the morning.”

Harry nodded and grabbed his wife’s hand, “I love you, Kitty. You know that right? I love you so much. You are the most important person to me in the world.”

Kit attempted a weak smile as she pulled her hand away and tucked herself into the blankets, “Can you turn the light off when you leave the room?”

. . .

Harry had been unable to sleep at all. The couch wasn’t a great spot to sleep but more than that, he was feeling guilty and trying to figure out how to fix the problem. He didn’t want you to feel bad, you hadn’t done anything wrong. But he did need to support his wife first and foremost. He’d need to insist she apologize and put it behind her but he didn’t want his wife to feel like he was taking your side either. Even though, in a way, he kind of was. You were the innocent party in all this. He’d gotten carried away. You both just clicked. The chemistry between you was impenetrable. So much so that he nearly forgot about his wife being there and said some things he didn’t really mean.

When he heard light footfalls coming down the stairs and then saw the outline of your frame as you rushed toward the door he shot up from the couch and hurried toward you, “Y/n?”

You closed your eyes and stopped in your tracks. You hoped he was asleep and that you could leave without him knowing.

He put his hands on your shoulders as he stood behind you and spoke quietly, “Are you okay to drive?” He knew he wasn’t going to be able to talk you into staying. Though in his mind, the best-case scenario was that the three of you could sit and talk and move on from the disaster of what had happened the night before. Maybe over coffee and waffles. He knew that was unlikely but he had hoped.

“I’m fine now. I just want to get out of here. I feel awful,” you turned yourself to look up at him in the dark.

“You don’t need to feel bad, honey. You didn’t do anything wrong. I need you to understand that.”

“I just need to go. You’ve been so nice to me. Thank you, Harry. For everything. Tell Kit how awful I feel and that I’m so sorry and never meant to hurt her.”

Harry frowned, “Don’t worry. Kit will feel better when she wakes up. I’ll talk to her. But you don’t owe anyone an apology.”

He put his arms around you and held you against his chest in a sweet hug. You could feel the thud of his heart under his pecs and inhaled his scent. You’d miss him. You’d miss Kit too. You’d especially miss William and Warner.

. . .

When you didn’t show up on Monday morning at the Styles’ house both Kit and Harry knew what was going on.

Kit had planned on apologizing to you for her behavior in person. She’d even planned to go to work a bit late that morning so all three of you could try and work it out. She was still feeling a bit betrayed by Harry and having a hard time unseeing and hearing what she had, but she knew her conduct had been out of line. She was acting on pure emotion and the wine exasperated her reaction. But that was no excuse.

“I can work from home today,” Harry said.

Kit shook her head, “I feel awful. I hurt her feelings. I was such a bitch to her and she didn’t deserve it. Maybe I should text her. Or go to her apartment and apologize to her face-to-face? What do you think? The least I can do is apologize for how I treated her.”

Harry pursed his lips, “Let me text her. See if she’ll come over later when you get home. I’ll tell her we’d like to talk and that you want to apologize.”

Sighing, Kit closed her eyes, “Don’t text her. I will. This is something I need to fix.”

He decided he’d let his wife figure out how she needed to approach the issue but he was worried it was too late. He was worried he’d never see you again and that would be it. You were totally justified in ghosting them both. Plus the semester would be starting up again for you in a couple of weeks and the boys would be back in school during the day so it felt futile to beg for you to come back.

And that’s exactly what you thought too. You were about to head into the new fall semester to start on your master’s degree and the boys were going back to school. You had hoped you’d still be able to watch the twins when Harry and Kit wanted a weekend away or a night off for a few extra bucks during the school year but there was absolutely no way you’d be able to face either Kit or Harry again.

You were sure Kit hated you with every fiber of her being. Which kind of made you angry the more you sat with what had happened. As sad as you were and as bad as you felt, you knew Harry was right. Nothing that happened was actually your fault.

Distracting yourself from what had happened Saturday night had been difficult because it was all so fresh. You knew with some time you’d get over it and move on but you were sure there would be some damage there. Netflix, long walks, lots of sleep, and pints of ice cream seemed to help a little.

But still, the moment that you couldn’t erase from your memory was when you were on their bed as Harry had just finished himself on your back and Kit yelled at him to make you leave all while you were still naked and floaty. Humiliating. But more than that, you started to realize, that what Kit did was uncalled for and mean. She had been mean to you and that made you angry.

So you were surprised when you saw a text from her on Monday afternoon. With an apology.

I hope you’re doing okay. I just wanted to reach out and tell you how sorry I am for how I acted Saturday night. I had hoped to talk to you this morning about it so I could do this in person, and I would still like to apologize to you in person if you’d let me. I understand if you’re not comfortable with it but if you are, I’ll be at Davanti’s on Fresno Street at 3:30 pm. I’ll be alone and plan to stay for an hour.

It was 2 pm. You needed to decide if you wanted to hear her out or just move on. Could you look at her again? Would you simply break down and cry the moment you saw her? Maybe it would be better if you requested Harry to be there? Or perhaps you should just ignore her and be done with it.

But you figured opting for closure would be better in the end. For you and probably for Kit as well.

I’ll be there.

You found a spot to park on the street a few blocks away so you could get some fresh air and stretch your legs before going inside. And also just in case you suddenly decided you didn’t want to go through with it, you could turn around and leave without having Kit seeing you.

But you didn’t change your mind and when you walked into the restaurant you saw Kit sitting at a booth looking down at her phone with a glass of wine in front of her.

You slid in across from her and she startled slightly before placing her phone face down, “Y/n! You came. Thank you.” She smiled. She looked hopeful and sweet.

Nodding you smiled back, “Of course.”

Kit looked at your hands and then out into the restaurant before back to you, “Would you like anything to drink or eat? It’s on me if you want–“

“No. That’s fine. I’ll just have a water when the server comes by. Not really hungry.”

She sat for a moment and blinked her eyes as she looked at you softly, “I am so sorry, Y/n. I know me just saying that can’t erase what I did. I wasn’t prepared to see him like that with anyone and I took it out on you. I’ll never forgive myself for the way I acted.”

You nodded and looked down at the table. You figured she would eventually forgive herself. Because that’s why she was there wanting to apologize to you in person. She wanted to feel better about what had happened and this was her way of doing that. So, while she would forgive herself eventually, despite saying she wouldn’t, you would never forget what happened to you that night. How she treated you, demeaned you. How it made you feel disgusted with yourself and Harry and her all at once. The horror you felt when the worst possible outcome happened.

“Can you ever forgive me?” She finally said which made you look up at her.

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. I’m not really sure how I even feel right now about it. I still need time to negotiate all of this in my head first.”

Kit spread her fingers out on the table and looked down at her hand, “I understand that. I don’t deserve to be forgiven,” she sighed and looked back at you, “I wanted to try something new with Harry. I’ve been so… just trying to figure out how to make myself feel that thing I used to feel for him, ya know?” She laughed and shook her head, “He’s just so… male. I mean he’s sweet and gentle and attractive but in bed, he wants something I can’t give him, and vice versa. And now that the twins are older we get more privacy and can get back into being a little more explorative, and it’s made me really miss how things were when I was single and dating women. I know that sounds awful,” she bit the inside of her cheek, “But I’ve just been reaching for something that I’m never going to be able to have with Harry alone. But turns out,” she laughed, “funnily enough, that I don’t like him with anyone else or feeling that passion with someone else that I wanted to feel. I wanted to feel that with you. But that’s selfish of me. I’m all messed up right now,” she stitched her brows together and you could see how glassy her eyes were, “I’m sorry to dump that on you. That’s not fair to you.”

You nodded. You didn’t know what to say in response. She shouldn’t have told you any of that. That was true. And now you just felt bad for Harry that his wife was seeking something to fill in where she thought he lacked. But all you could think was that he was everything anyone would ever want and yet Kit didn’t even see that somehow.

“I wanted to also give you this. From the boys.” She handed you a small homemade booklet with drawings on it from both William and Warren. You flipped through the pages of marker and pen, drawings and stories written to go with each drawing.

You looked up at Kit with appreciation, “Thank you for this. Tell them I love it. I’ll read it every day.” You hadn’t wanted to cry. Hadn’t wanted to show Kit how sensitive and soft you were. She’d already watched you cry that night and now here you were with tears in your eyes again that you simply could not hold back.

“If you ever want to stop by and say hi to them you could. Or even just send me or Harry a text to tell them hi. They love you so much, Y/n. You’re so good with them. And I wanted to…” she paused as she looked at you with a sudden weight that hadn’t been there just before, “If anything ever, um…” she wavered her gaze from your face to the area behind your head and back, “Never mind. Just know how much both Harry and I trust you and would love for you to still come around to see them if you ever wanted.”

. . .

When you returned to university things started to feel better. You still got caught with feelings of dread and were reminded of the way you felt that night. Of course, Kit had apologized and that was really all you could ask for after it had all been said and done. But it didn’t stop you from zoning out in the shower with thoughts of putting your pink pearl choker on before you went to their home that night. The giddiness you felt beforehand that was torn away from you so viciously only hours later. Now you couldn’t even look at the necklace. It was tucked away in its soft velvet bag in your panties drawer.

And you couldn’t stop thinking of Harry either. You missed him a lot too. But that feeling was mixed with a confusing heartsickness. It wasn’t that you were in love with him or anything. But you had crushed on him for a while and got to experience him in bed and that was. You couldn’t describe it because you tried not to think about it too much. The more you dwelled on the way he handled you and looked at you, the way he spoke to you… it gave you shivers and the unfortunate thing was that you’d never have the pleasure to know that again.

But again, you weren’t in love or anything close to it. It was just a sense of loss more than anything.

After your first month back at school was down you were invited out to a local bar with some of your classmates and friends. Something fun for everyone to let loose a little. And god did you deserve to blow off a little steam.

You would have preferred a club with some awful dancing and too much liquor, to be honest, but darts in a dark bar with pitchers of beer and friends sounded quite nice too.

Jax bought the first pitcher as the rest of you claimed a nice table close to the dart boards at the back of the bar. It was a Friday night so the place got packed not long after you’d arrived.

You lost badly at the first game which meant the next pitcher of beer was on you. You frowned exaggeratedly at the rule that the loser buys the beer, but the truth was that you were feeling amazing. It was nice to not be sitting at home thinking about things that you shouldn’t be. The distraction was welcome. Being out with friends was refreshing.

Waving at the bartender you placed the empty pitcher down and dug into your front pocket for some cash to pay your turn. But a sudden feeling came over you. Like you were being watched. Or noticed at least. You casually looked to your right and then to your left but you saw no one looking at you. And no one looked familiar.

“Another pitcher of beer?” The bartender asked, bringing your attention back to him.

“Oh! Yes, please.”

With that strange feeling crawling its way up your spine you turned slowly and looked back at your friends and then across the bar to the table next to the window.

You jolted and felt your scalp prick and fingertips sizzle when you made eye contact with him. Harry. He was seated at a high-top table. He appeared to be alone.

He lifted a hand in greeting before bringing it back down to grasp his pint and looked out the window.

You hadn’t even become unfrozen from the shock of seeing him by the time the bartender was back with your pitcher. You settled up with him and looked to where Harry was seated. He didn’t look back at you. You wondered how long he’d been there. Had he seen you before you walked up to the bar?

“Hey, here’s the pitcher,” you placed it at the center of the table. “I’m gonna sit this game out. Someone I know is here and I’m gonna go say hi.”

After refilling your glass you hesitantly made your way to Harry. The least you could do was say hi. You had wondered about him all this time and had been tempted to text him a time or two but never felt it was right.

“Hi.” You stood next to his table, at a safe distance in case he wasn’t interested in talking.

He pulled his gaze away from whatever he was looking at outside to you, “Hi, Y/n.”

“I was, uh, surprised to see you. I don’t want to bother you. I just–“

“Sit if you want,” he gestured at the other stool. So obviously you did, placing your glass on the table and keeping your eyes on him.

Harry took a sip of his beer and his eyes were as deep and full of warmth as ever.

“How have you been?” You asked. You didn’t really know what to say to him. Which was silly when you thought about it.

“Things are complicated at home. But I’m okay. How are you?”

You shrugged as you took a drink from your glass, “Good. School’s been good. Here for a night without worrying about homework and quizzes. Just needed a night out with some friends.”

He nodded and leaned forward, resting his forearms onto the lacquered wooden tabletop, caging in his beer, “I’ve wanted to text you to see how you were doing but figured you wouldn’t want to hear from me again after what happened.”

You pinched your brows together and shook your head, “That’s not… I wish you would have. I wanted to text you a few times too. Just to check-in. I’ve missed you guys.”

“The boys really miss you. They talk about you still. I mean…” he rotated his arm so his palm was face up in a passive gesture, “it hasn’t been that long since– well, anyway.”

You smiled, “I miss them a lot. Hey, did Warner ever finish learning that song on the piano you were teaching him? He was doing so well learning the parts. I kind of hoped to hear him complete it but then…” you didn’t dare finish that sentence.

Harry grinned. It was the first genuine smile you’d seen from him since you approached him.

“Yeah. He’s pretty much got it down now. I’m really proud of him. He’s gonna be starting guitar and singing lessons soon. He wants to learn so he can start a band with some friends so I encouraged him to take lessons.”

“Takes after his father. Musically talented.” You gleamed at Harry.

Harry gulped the lump down his throat. He had really missed you around. But he’d been quite caught up in the aftermath of that night with Kit ever since. That night had changed everything.

“Ahh, I just dabble. Warner has real natural talent.”

You couldn’t be sure but you thought the apples of his cheeks were turning a shade pinker than they had been.

“I’ve heard you play the piano and sing. I’d say you have plenty of natural talent, Harry.”

You meant it too. He had a beautiful voice full of dark timbre and vibrant airy notes. And of course, he was so confident when he sang that if he had told you he made an album and played for audiences in sold-out venues you would have believed it.

“That’s nice to hear. Thank you, Y/n,” you watched a dimple slowly work its way deeper into his cheek as his smile widened. It was nice to see him smile.

You both sat quietly for a bit looking out the window at the dark street as cars drove by, headlamps beaming over the dark asphalt. You wondered if you should press him more about how he really was. You could tell something was off. He wasn’t as happy as he normally was. And when he told you things were complicated at home you figured it had something to do with Kit.

“We’re getting divorced,” he said defeatedly as he stared out the window.

“What? Why?”

Harry took a deep breath and looked at you, “She wants more than I can give her. She needs to be with women, she said. And…” he gulped and looked back out the window, “… she said she couldn’t ever look at me the same after that night. Said I’d never be able to have that with her.”

You kept your brows pinched together as you listened to him. It broke your heart that things had fallen apart for them. That it had all been too much.

“But I thought you two were happy. There was never any indication before that something was wrong.”

He nodded, “I thought so too. But she couldn’t get passed it and she said she’d been thinking about it for a long time. Before we even thought of having you join,” he glanced at you before looking down at his glass, “She’s been needing something else for a while. I never knew. I thought it was enough. I knew she missed women and that kind of softness in bed but I had no idea that it affected her so much. To me, her confession was sudden. But supposedly she’s been keeping it in for a long time.”

Without even thinking you reached out and grabbed his hand, “I’m so sorry, Harry.”

Harry looked down at your small hand covering his and up to your eyes, “She said that when she apologized to you she felt free to finally be herself. I was blindsided. Then last week she told me she was going to go on a date with a woman she’s known for years. Ripped me right half. She was gone all night. But I mean, our marriage is over anyway.”

You gently smoothed your thumb over his knuckles and kept your eyes on his face.

“So I offered her a divorce and told her I can’t tolerate her dating someone if I’m not involved somehow. She understood that. She told me she hoped I would find someone,” he paused as he sighed to collect his words so they didn’t come out as a surprise to you, “…with whom I could have the kind of chemistry she saw that night between us.”

You didn’t know how to respond. Or if you should. You were well aware of the way you and Harry connected and how natural everything felt with him. But at the same time, you never thought it was much more than just good chemistry. You couldn’t allow yourself to think of it as more than that.

“Anyway, she’s at home with the boys and I needed to get out and breathe. Figured I’d have a beer or two and then go back home. Sleep in the guest room like I have been. We’re still trying to figure out how to tell the kids.”

You nodded softly, “That’s awful, Harry. I don’t know what to say except I’m so sorry.”

Harry breathed out a laugh through his nostrils and shook his head, “You don’t need to pity me. I’m sad but I’ll be okay. It’s better anyway, I think in the end. She wasn’t fulfilled and part of me knows I wasn’t either. We could have made it work but I don’t think she’d have been happy for much longer. It was only a matter of time I suppose.”

“Y/n! Next game’s about to start. You wanna join?” Arla suddenly interrupted.

You turned to look at her and back to Harry, “This is Harry, and Harry, this is my friend Arla. She and I have two classes together.”

Harry smiled at your friend and looked at you, “I’m just about to finish up. You go and enjoy your night off with your friends.”

You didn’t want to part ways with Harry yet. It felt like you needed to sit with him longer. So you turned to Arla, “I’m gonna pass. But you guys go ahead!”

“Are you sure?” She looked from you to Harry and back to you again.

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

When she walked off Harry grabbed your hand, “You don’t have to pity me I said. I’m okay, really. I know this has to be boring for you to sit here listening to me whine about my life. You should go.”

Shaking your head you frowned, “I didn’t want to go, Harry. Thought maybe if you’re leaving anyway I could walk you out. Hug you goodbye. I don’t know when I’ll ever see you again. Or if I see you again…”

Harry tilted his head and nodded, “Okay. Deal. I’ll settle up and be right back.”

You watched Harry make his way to the bar and get his credit card back from the bartender. He was achingly attractive, even doing absolutely nothing, he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid eyes on. And far and away the kindest.

When he returned you stood from the stool and he gestured for you to lead the way to the door. The night air was warm as you turned to look up at Harry.

“I’m parked just up the street,” he jutted his chin in the direction of his car, “It was really nice to see you–“

“I’ll walk with you to your car,” you rushed the words out. You weren’t ready for him to leave. You were certain you’d never see him again and that thought was scarier than insisting you walk him to his car. Maybe just being near him for a few extra moments would make you feel better.

Silently you both walked side by side down the sidewalk toward his car. And when you got to his spot he smiled down at you, “Did you drive here?”

You shook your head, “Shared an Uber with two of my friends.”

He nodded, “Well, Y/n…” he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around your shoulders and you pulled your arms around his middle and smushed your face against his chest. He squeezed you tight and you squeezed back.

You felt his breath at your temple, “God I’m gonna miss you.”

You tilted your head back to look up at him, “I’m gonna miss you too, Harry.”

The streetlamp that cast the smallest bit of light from across the street flickered off and then sputtered back on again as you kept your eyes locked with Harry’s. You’d miss his eyes and his cologne and how nice he was to you. It felt wrong to simply let him leave.

“Y/n…” Harry spoke softly as he brought a hand up to your face, his fingers slid behind your ear and his thumb caressed your cheekbone, “Can I have one more kiss? If it’s okay?”

Nodding your head you felt his hand pull your face closer to his. He pressed his nose against yours as you fluttered your eyes shut and then felt his lips gently move over yours.

And something inside of you felt like it’d been unlocked as you opened your mouth and let him slip his tongue inside, to which you pressed yours against his and heard him moan.

You gripped his shirt tight and felt him push your back into his car as he caged you in with his arms and his hips pressed against yours. It had all happened so fast but your head was spinning and you both were lost in each other with a hungry kiss and wet lips.

He moved his hand to your neck and wrapped his palm around the front of your throat, keeping his lips attached to yours before he parted with a soft gasp, “Want to hear you say it just one more time f’me, sweet girl. What do you call me?”

You closed your eyes and felt the tips of his fingers squeezing gently at the side of your neck. You knew exactly what he was asking.

“Daddy,” you breathed before you felt his warm lips slot between yours again. He moaned deeply and you clung to his back in hopes of him staying. You didn’t want this to be it.

When you shifted your hips he lowered a hand to your thigh and pulled it upward, tucking himself in closer.

It turned out, that one more kiss wasn’t just any old kiss. Wasn’t just something you could pull away from once his lips smeared against yours, once his tongue lapped against your tongue. You held him tight through his shirt and he kept your thigh hitched over his hip and his hand at your neck as his mouth moved with yours under the flickering streetlamp.

When he pulled back and looked down at you, you tightened your fingers around his shirt, “Do you want to come over? To my place?” You couldn’t let the moment getaway. Couldn’t let Harry just leave like that. You also couldn’t believe you’d asked him over. But it was that or watch him drive away and never see him again.

Harry pulled his hand off your neck and softly tucked his fingers to the back of your head, “Really?”

You nodded and raised your brows, suddenly feeling the heat of embarrassment, “If you want. I mean you don’t–“

Your words were swallowed by Harry’s mouth over yours again. Soft lips and wet tongue making you ache and filling you with just enough gall to ask for what you’d wanted. And that was to have him in your apartment. Alone. You just wanted a little bit more. Before it was all over and forgotten and in the past. Before the moment was just something you’d look back on in the future with a tinge of sadness but with a smile on your face.

Harry opened his passenger side door for you to get inside and you texted Jax quickly explaining your sudden absence with an apology. You could explain to your friends later.

You felt Harry scoop your hand into his as he started his car and pulled out into the street. The song on the radio had just come to an end and a commercial began to play, “You’ll have to remind me of your address,” Harry glanced at you before looking back at the street.

“Oh! Yeah! Of course. Um… Just take this street to Caldwell and take a right and then we’ll go to the bridge and merge onto the highway but you’ll only be on for one exit and then the first right off the access road. Then it’s like two miles and the apartments are on the left.”

Harry laughed, “Maybe you can tell me as we approach where I need to turn. I’m a little wound up right now. Might not remember all that,” he grinned.

You were feeling your nerves begin to bubble with each mile closer to your apartment. But Harry was trying to keep you calm, you could tell.

“So, you told me once you don’t have roommates. Is that still the case?”

You nodded and looked at his handsome side profile, “Yeah. No roommates. It’s only a one bedroom. My uncle is the apartment manager and so I get rent super cheap otherwise I wouldn’t be able to have a place on my own.” “That’s nice. Looking forward to seeing it.”

Biting your lip you looked out the window and felt a pinch of anxiety. You knew what was probably about to happen and you’d welcome it! But then after that what? Would he stick around? Would you see him again? Would Kit be mad?

“What are your plans for tomorrow, Y/n?”

You released your bottom lip from your teeth, “I have a paper due on Monday so I planned on getting my sources and starting the outline. I have it mostly written but now I need to back up what I’m saying and that means I’ll probably wind up needing to rewrite some portions. But that’s my plan for tomorrow and Sunday. Get that finished up. What about you?” You looked back at him as you asked.

“Tomorrow afternoon I’m taking the boys to that Science and Play place. Not sure if you ever heard of it?” He peeked at you quickly.

“I have! I’ve actually been there,” you laughed and Harry softly rubbed his thumb along yours.

“William loves it. He’s been begging to go back. And they have a restaurant there so we’ll make a whole afternoon of it. Let the boys explore. Kit’s going out tomorrow and I don’t want the boys to see her getting all dressed up so I’m going to stay out of the house with them as long as possible.”

You nodded, “That makes sense. I’m sorry, Harry.”

He shook his head, “Don’t be. I’m suddenly not feeling so down about it all right now,” he squeezed your hand as you directed him onto the highway.

You smiled to yourself at his comment and understood what he meant exactly.

After Harry parked in the guest parking spot, you led him to your apartment up a flight of metal stairs to the second floor. You were normally very tidy and neat but you’d been a bit out of sorts since that fateful night and plus getting back into the swing of the new semester meant you had a few things strewn about which all came into view once you turned on the light.

“Sorry about the mess,” you gestured at your couch and the small chair next to it with your clothes draped over the arms.

But Harry didn’t seem to care as he pulled you into his arms and cupped your face, bringing his lips down to yours. You kissed him back with as much heat as he was putting into the kiss. You grasped onto the lats of his back as he moved you with him slowly until he pulled you into his lap on the couch and your fervor only increased.

You ran your fingers into his hair as he kissed his way down your jaw and then to your neck, pecking gently along the front of your throat and back up to your lips, “Loved when you wore that little pearl choker.”

He drew his hands along the outside of your jeans-clad thighs and you pulled away to look at his beautiful face, “I still have it.”

“Mmm… It goes with your innocent act so perfectly,” he grinned, “But I know you’re not innocent, baby. Far from it.”

You could feel his breath against your lips as he spoke and you felt that recognizable hardness under his pants.

“Why don’t you go put that pretty thing on your neck for Daddy and take off everything else?”

You were quick to push yourself off his lap and go into your bedroom. You smiled as you pulled the choker from its velvet bag and happily put it back onto your neck. You thought you’d never want it on again, but if Harry wanted it on, you would absolutely wear it.

You pulled your shirt off and began to unbutton your pants before pushing them down your legs. You hadn’t done much upkeep on yourself other than just shaving around your bikini line to keep it neat, but you knew better than to start rethinking everything now. If you had a bit of a bush so be it. You were mostly certain Harry wouldn’t mind.

When you unhooked your bra Harry was standing in your doorway watching you. His hands slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt as he watched you peel your panties down your legs.

His shirt hung open as he stepped in front of you and cupped your face. His eyes wandered over your breasts and up to your choker before setting them back on your face, “Do you know how hard you make me, Y/n? This little thing on your neck,” he lowered his thumb to the pearls and pressed on it, “…these sexy lips,” he dipped in and kissed you as he lowered both hands to your tits, “…and these gorgeous breasts.”

You smoothed your hands over his warm chest as his mouth covered yours with lazy, sloppy kisses.

“Want you to bend over the bed. Show me that pretty ass. I think you need a little spanking for making Daddy wait a month and a half to see you again.”

You moaned and then swallowed as you turned around and draped your upper half over your unmade bed, baring your full ass to him.

You felt his hands cupping your bottom and smoothing up and down to your thighs as he cooed at you, “God damn, baby. Look at you. So fucking sweet and naughty for me,” the first strike against your bottom came unexpectedly and immediately after he spoke.

He brought his other palm down on your other side and you yelped and turned to look at him over your shoulder.

He lifted his gaze from your bum to your eyes and smirked at you as he smacked you again. You dropped your mouth open and groaned when he did it again and again until you squeezed your eyes closed and stuffed your face into the mattress as he left stinging handprints on your backside.

When you felt him move away you lifted and turned to look at him behind you as he removed his clothes. He watched you with dark eyes, his sight moving from your bum to your face, “On your knees. Face me,” he motioned for you to move.

You brought yourself to your knees and looked up at him, your eyes big and round and sweet. He licked his lips and ran his knuckles over your temple, “Gotta burn this image into my brain. The sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He stroked himself slowly, his cock was already fully thickened and mouthwatering. You looked from his big dick up to his face as he dragged a soft thumb over your lips. He pressed his thumb into your mouth and you opened up for him.

“Keep your mouth open like this,” he pressed down on your tongue, making your jaw widen, “There we go. Need space for me in there. You want Daddy’s cock inside your mouth?”

You nodded and gurgled a yes which made him grin proudly, “I know you do. You like having your face fucked, don’t you? Little naughty girl desperate to choke and make Daddy happy.”

“Yes. Please…” you panted and opened your mouth wider for him.

Harry smeared his cock over your lips. His warm tip dragged against the soft skin of your mouth as you poked your tongue out to dab at his slit.

“Go on then. Suck.” He prodded himself forward a bit and you wrapped your lips around his smooth tip and grasped at this base. Swirling your tongue around the skin under his crown you pushed yourself down on him and pulled back, sucking in and dragging your tongue along the way before edging back down again, trying to get him as deep as possible.

You’d given head before. You had never much enjoyed it. Felt it was more a means to an end sometimes. But with Harry standing over you and cradling the back of your head, his eyes on your mouth as you took him on your tongue you realized you loved giving head. Maybe it was just Harry, though. Maybe you only loved sucking his cock because it was attached to him and you wanted to please him in every way you possibly could.

“Fuck,” Harry moaned breathily as you looked up at him with your puffy lips parted around him, moving up and down, sucking and licking, hollowing your cheeks every time you pulled back to his tip just before pushing him further into your mouth.

When you put a hand on his ball sac and softly rolled it in your palm Harry threw his head back and panted breathily, “Oh my god, baby.”

You continued your work as your eyes became blurred with tears and your chin wet with drool. You stuffed yourself down over him until his tip was poked into your throat and you gagged around him. When you repeated that move, causing you to swallow around him and gag lightly, still gently massaging his balls he pulled you off and lifted you to stand up.

“Enough for now. Think you’ve earned a reward for that.” He gently walked you backward to your bed and then gestured for you to get on just as he climbed on and pulled you over his lap again. Harry laid down, bringing you with him, and kissed you. You could feel his solid, damp cock against your pussy as you kissed him and he groped your bottom, moving you up and down against him slowly, your pussylips pushed apart and dragged over his cock.

Suddenly he pushed at you, making you sit upright, your hands on his pecs as he cupped your tits in his hands, “I want you to ride my face. Get yourself off.”

You laughed and looked at him, “How should I…”

But you let out a small squeak as he pulled at you and dragged you up his chest and over his face, gripping onto your hips and making you settle your pussy over his lips. He began kissing and licking right away, his eyes on you.

“Ohhh…” you placed your hands on the top of the headboard as you looked down and watched Harry under you. It felt so good having him naked in your bed. Having his eyes on you. Having his hands on your ass. His lips on your pussy.

You slowly tilted your hips forward and felt the sparkle of your clit being pressed into his mouth. Harry held you down tight and lapped at you, concentrating on your clit as he sucked on it.

Harry’s fingers dug into your soft bum and you felt as he moved one hand, reaching further back and dipping a finger into your pussy before smearing your arousal up and over your anus. You gasped as you stared down at his eyes. He softly circled the spot as he continued working on your clit with his mouth.

You’d never had anything done to your bottom before, but if Harry wanted to, you’d let him. You were pretty much all yes and please when it came to him anyway. You’d happily let him do what he wanted.

But he never pressed in. He only pushed at your hole and circled over the outside with a wet finger and it had you reeling.

“Daddy, oh my god!”

Harry moved his hand away and put it back on your hips so he could pull you down and move you back and forth over his face. You felt like you were in such a vulnerable position, naked, sitting on his mouth the way you were. There was part of you that worried you were crushing him but he only pulled you against his mouth harder, his brows furrowing as he tried to draw an orgasm out of you.

He moaned against your clit and drew it into his mouth, letting his tongue flick against it. The little wet noises coming from his mouth against you sounded dirty with the backdrop of your loud moaning.

Sometimes you were able to force an orgasm from yourself if you held your vibrator against your clit. Even if you weren’t worked up at all. Just for a quick release.

But you were definitely worked up with Harry. Wet and puffy and the way he was mouthing and pulling at your clit with his lips you couldn’t stop your climax even if you wanted to. It dripped from your cunt all over his mouth as you loudly cried out. Your thighs quivered around his head as you leaned forward and felt wave after wave of your release.

Harry kept his hands tight on you, holding you close so he could make sure you were feeling everything he gave you.

“Fffffuuuu!” You were feeling overwhelmed as he continued sucking you in and holding you down over him. You whined and tried lifting your hips up but he swatted at your ass before gripping your thigh and doubling down on your clit.

“Oooh ssssshhit! Ffuck!” You were trembling uncontrollably as you white-knuckled the headboard and looked down at the scene of the crime. Harry’s head between your thighs with his eyes on yours and his wet nose was lewd.

But then something snapped and the overwhelming feeling started to melt into yet another orgasm that was drawn from you without warning. You cried and whimpered as Harry let go of your thighs and put his hands at your waist to keep you steady. Your whole body trembled as you tried to hold onto the headboard but you were feeling out of your mind and blurry.

When he moved you to your back you were still coming down from the back-to-back orgasms and your brain was trying to fight its way back to the surface of clarity and awareness. Harry lay next to you and kissed your neck, his fingers trailing up your tummy and over your breasts and to your little choker, “You okay, Y/n?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

Your chest was still rising and falling heavily as you nodded, “I’m so good.”

You felt Harry’s thigh draped over the tops of yours as he trailed soft kisses up your neck and to your jaw, “You are so good.”

Reaching across your body you placed your fingers in Harry’s hair, “I want you to come, Daddy.”

Harry laughed out a puff of breath against your jaw and lifted his face to look at you, “Oh you do? You’re so sweet, honey,” his voice came out raspy and deep as he kneed his way between your legs, pushing your thighs apart and fitting himself comfortably over you, pulling at your knees to bend them up so your feet were flat.

He smiled down at you, breaking the lusty moment, “You don’t happen to have a condom do you?”

You thought for a moment. You were sure you didn’t, “I don’t really think I do. But,” you gulped and flexed your fingers nervously into the skin of his back, “I’m on birth control, so…”

Harry pursed his lips in pause as he kept his eyes on yours, “Okay,” he dipped down to kiss you, “You sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure. Want to feel you,” you nodded.

You were still so wet between your legs. You could feel Harry’s length easily slide against your pussy as he shifted himself down and pressed the top of his thighs into the back of yours, pushing your legs up slightly.

He placed his forearms down on the bed, caging you in, and pressed his mouth to yours softly. You felt him nudging at your opening so you lifted your hips, pushing against him as his tongue licked at the crease of your lips. The moment you felt his bulbous tip press through the tight muscle of your opening you gasped, dropping your mouth wide open. The feel of him entering you slowly with the weight of his hips against yours had you melting.

“That feels so good, doesn’t it baby?”

You whimpered with a nod, “Yes, Daddy…”

“Fuck I can hear how wet you are for me,” he pulled back and then pressed in. “Gonna make me come so hard, sweet girl.”

The deeper he went in the more you felt your body floating away. There was no question that Harry had a big dick. And you knew he was aware of this as well because he was gentle with you as he inched his way in and pulled back slowly.

When he’d finally poked in as deep as possible and his balls were tucked into your ass he sloppily kissed you as he began to fuck into you with slow and languid strokes. Gushy and hot and unforgiving. Even as slow as he was going every time his head nudged into your cervix you hissed into his mouth. But there was something about the little ache that you loved. Probably because it was Harry.

His pelvis dragged against your clit every time he pushed in and you felt his hand clutch the back of your neck as he licked into your mouth.

Your pussy was so full. So happy. You could feel yourself open and stretch around him. It had your head spinning.

Harry grunted as he lifted himself and softly pressed his nose against yours, “Feel that, baby? Feel Daddy’s cock sliding inside of your tight pussy? You’re gripping me so good.”

His slow rhythmic thrusts grew faster as he let go of the back of your neck and pushed himself up, palms on the mattress. His plunges were deeper and stronger and his thighs and back were flexing as he worked himself in and out, faster little by little.

“Shit! Daddy!” You shakily yelped at the faster cadence and the way he was now punching into your cervix, “It’s so fucking deep,” you gritted your teeth and threw your neck back.

“Is it too deep for your little pussy, honey? Huh?” He rutted his hips in as he asked, punctuating what he meant.

You inhaled sharply when he plunged in again, grinding his hips against yours and stuffing himself into the hilt, “Oh my god, yes! But I need it!”

Harry groaned as kept himself balls deep and sat back onto his haunches, grabbing onto your thighs to keep you in place.

With his hands at the back of your knees, he began to slide into you in long, heavy strokes until he was smacking into you just enough that your tits were bouncing and your bed was creaking in time with his thrusts.

Harry licked his thumb and lowered it to your clit which had you jolting with a small cry. Your clit was super sensitive after the way he’d handled you moments earlier.

He watched his cock move through your hole, your pussy wrapped around him tight and coating him in your cream. He moaned as his thumb was lathered in your arousal from how he was slipping it back and forth over your puffy clit.

Your small grunts and squeaks increased the wetter you got and the harder the mattress bounced under you. The patting of his skin against yours was rhythmic and bumped you upward every time he slammed into you.

You started to see stars, you could swear it as your limbs began to tingle and disintegrate. Harry was grunting and moaning at the view of your pussy wrapped around him tight and the way it felt to be swallowed by you, warm and wet and clenching.

Harry gasped and paused his strokes as he breathed heavily. His chest was red as leaned back over you and kissed you so sweetly it took your breath away. You both moaned in synch as your tongues wound around each other and wet lips slobbered together when he began to drill into you again, slower but with muscle.

You started to quiver with his chest pressed to yours and his cock deep inside of you, his pelvis grinding against yours.

“There you go… let me feel that pussy coming. Oh, baby that feels good doesn’t it,” he rutted into you as he spoke against your lips.

You nearly howled with your third orgasm. It was one thing to come from clitoral stimulation but quite another to have your clit being smeared into while having a big cock nudging in and out of you as you lost control of all functions.

Harry watched your face as you scrunched your brow and chanted Daddy and he drove into you in solid, squelching plunges. His cock made its way over your spongy insides repeatedly, hitting that one spot with his big crown over and over again until you were spent. Done for. There was nothing left for you to give.

Harry kissed you softly, stuffing himself into you gently, and moaned, “M’gonna come baby but I’m gonna pull out okay? Where do you want it sweet girl?”

You peeled your eyes open and exhaled softly, “In my mouth. Let me have it in my mouth, Daddy,” you nodded as you gripped his shoulders.

Harry stopped his motions and looked at you, almost as if in awe as he ticked his head back in forth like he was in disbelief, “Yeah?”

You nodded as he plunged in a few more times, pressing you upward, his eyes on yours as his moaning progressively got softer and you swore whiney even.

He pushed himself up and pulled out, taking his cock in his hand and pumping himself, smoothing your creamy arousal around his shaft and smothering his palm. He took his other hand and pulled you up by your neck and brought your mouth over his cock as he sat back onto his haunches.

You quickly lowered your mouth over him, tasting your juices as you sucked him in and then felt him begin to release down your throat in spurts. He coughed out a loud groan as he rutted upward, his tip slipping down your throat with his hand at the back of your head, “Fuck!” He panted and you felt his thighs shaking as he rolled his hips upward.

You swallowed and gurgled him down the best you could, gripping the base of his shaft in your hand and sucking while swirling your tongue around him until his cock stopped throbbing and pumping and he was softly gasping and breathing.

You licked your way up and popped your mouth off of him but you were in a daze.

Harry smoothed his lips against yours and easily laid you down on your back, “Just lay here and rest. I’ll be right back sweetheart.”

You closed your eyes and hummed to yourself at the taste in your mouth and the way your body was buzzing with satisfaction.

Opening your eyes just as Harry walked back into the room he was buck naked, cock swinging, chest slightly damp, and impossibly strong thighs. A god really. You’d never get over his body.

He held a glass of water out to you and had brought in a damp towel to wipe you up. You sat up to take a few gulps of water before he delicately pushed you to lie back down. The towel was warm and it felt so good on your sensitive skin.

Harry laid next to you and kissed your cheek and then nuzzled into your neck, his hot breath falling over your skin, “You’re amazing, baby. I’m never gonna forget tonight. So good for me.”

You sighed and turned to face him as he gently dabbed between your legs, “Kiss me, Daddy.”

His grin made the edges of his eyes crinkle, “Happily.” He pressed his mouth against yours and you both kissed soft and lazy as he tossed the damp towel to your floor and wrapped you in his arms.

You couldn’t be sure of how he kissed you but when he was helping you out of bed and speaking softly to you about having a bath with him so he could hold you longer you felt wobbly still.

With your eyes closed and your back against his chest in the warm water, he started talking. And as you felt more aware and conscious you realized he was sort of spilling his guts to you.

“I was so sad when I woke up this morning. But seeing you and all this,” he squeezed your arms, “I think I can breathe now. You made everything feel better, Y/n.”

You listened closely as he continued, his chest vibrating as he spoke, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night. And I realized something too. Tonight. Just now. I think Kit was right. You and I do really have good chemistry. We fit so well together don’t we?”

You hummed and nodded with a small smile on your face.

He sighed and pulled his arms around you, “Don’t want this night to end. Want to just stay here with you, holding you like this.”

Your heart began to pound as you started to feel his words. You knew what he meant and you felt it. You could feel his scruff on your temple as he rubbed his face in toward yours, “You feeling better now?”

You nodded and turned toward his face, “Yes. So much better. You make me feel so good.”

Harry slowly blinked as he kept his gaze on yours, “You make me feel so good too.”

When the water grew tepid Harry wrapped you in a towel and tightly hugged you as he walked you to your room and made you drink more water.

He took your towel off and helped you into your bed and pulled your blankets over your naked body before he began to pick up his clothes from the floor.

You pouted and sat up, “Please don’t go. Will you stay here tonight? I need you here with me. I think I just…” you felt tears in your eyes as you looked upward to will them away.

Harry dropped his pants to the floor and sat on your bed, cupping your face to look at you, “I didn’t want to assume you wanted me to stay. But I’ll stay tonight. I’d love to stay with you.

So he did. He held you in his arms, pet your back, and kissed your forehead until you had drifted away into a deep sleep.

The morning was slow with the first bit of sun shining through the cracks of your window. You were burning hot in Harry’s arms so you poked your head up and breathed as you wiggled out of his hold.

“Where you going?” His groggy morning voice was too sexy to make sense.

“I have to pee,” you laughed as he released your wrist and you quickly padded to your bathroom.

When you got back into your room Harry was already dressed and running a hand through his hair as he looked at himself in your mirror.

Turning to face you he grinned at your Pokemon robe, “Cute. You’re always so fucking cute, Y/n.”

You looked down at the robe and shrugged at him with a small smile.

“I have to go. I hate to leave so quickly but I’ve got to get home to the boys and get them ready for our little outing today.”

You nodded, “Yeah. That’s okay. I understand.”

Harry tilted his head as he stepped in front of you and pulled you in for a hug. It felt like one of those this-is-it hugs. It felt so final.

“Y/n,” Harry pulled back to look at you, “You’re amazing. If you ever need anything or just want to say hi, you know how to reach me.”

You walked him to your door and watched as he made his way down the steps and out of your sight. Your final view of the only man you were sure you’d never get over.

. . .

“This is cute,” your cousin reached out to touch your pink pearl choker as you stuffed your bag with clothes.

You paused what you were doing and placed your fingers over the necklace with a smile, “Thank you.”

The necklace gave you warm and happy memories now. As much as you wished something could have happened between you and Harry you knew that just wasn’t possible. He was going through a divorce, had kids, a broken heart… But your last night together had mended you wholly. You knew it was something you’d never forget and you were grateful to him. You just hoped that maybe it did him some good too. Maybe it was something he took with him that made him smile like it did you.

The days and weeks after had been hard for you. Often you’d pick up your phone and compose a text, only to read it over and over again before deleting it. It was hard to let him go completely but now it was Christmas Eve and you felt like you were on the other side of it. Mostly. You still thought of him every day but it was easier.

“You have such good taste. You’ll have to go with me shopping sometime.” Chandy spoke as she plopped down on your bed next to your bag.

“That sounds fun actually.”

Chandy had come over to your apartment to pick you up since she lived so close. You were heading to her family home an hour out of the city. It was tradition for the whole family to get together at your aunt and uncle’s lake home. It was gorgeous in the winter with their soaring windows and snow all around.

You stacked presents into two grocery bags and slung your overnight bag over your shoulder, “Ready?”

“Yes! First, I have to use your bathroom then we’ll hit the road.” Chandy rushed off.

You sat on the edge of the arm of your couch and pulled out your phone to see a text that had your heart squeezing and throbbing.

It was a picture of Harry and the boys in front of a Christmas tree and his text read:

Merry Christmas, Y/n. We miss you!

You quickly typed out a response.

Merry Christmas! I miss you guys so much!

You placed your hand over your heart to calm yourself and the sudden rush of all your feelings you thought had begun to fade away came rushing back.

You closed your eyes after you watched your sent text go from delivered to read.

When you opened your eyes and saw that he was typing something your entire body grew hot as you stared intently at your phone.

“Okay! Ready!” Chandy chirped.

You stood up with your phone in your hand, “Uh, I’m gonna just go to the bathroom too real quick!”

You closed the bathroom door and felt the vibration from an incoming text. A wide grin on your face.

What are you doing for New Year’s?

As fast as your fingers allowed you responded.

No plans. What about you?

It was the longest wait while you watched the bouncing dots stop and restart. A full minute of waiting as you flushed the toilet (to pretend you’d been using it so Chandy didn’t wonder) and then washed your hands, staring at your screen.

The boys and I will be making a very “special” dinner and then we’ll ring in the New Year with sparkling grape juice and The Poseidon Adventure. They each invited a friend and told me I had to invite someone too.

Drying your hands off, you bit your lip and typed.

That sounds so fun. Who will you invite?

You chuckled to yourself. You were almost certain he was inviting you but you couldn’t be sure until you saw his response.

I’m inviting YOU. Wasn’t it obvious? ; )

Well, in that case, I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it. <3

. . .

You had no idea what to expect for New Year’s but you and Harry hadn’t stopped texting since he reached out. The whole time you were with your family on Christmas you kept your phone by your side so you wouldn’t miss a single message.

You dressed casually for the New Year’s Eve party at Harry’s because there were going to be 4 ten-year-old boys there. And you learned the “special” dinner they were making was grilled cheese sandwiches, French fries, and for dessert chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. It honestly sounded amazing.

You also learned that Kit had moved out, leaving the house to Harry and they were on very good terms. They would split custody of the boys 50 / 50. And that technically they were still married but the divorce was moving along quickly because there were very few things that needed to be worked out. They seemed to be on the same page.

You parked in the street in front of the Styles house and noticed lights strung up on the columns of the porch and a Christmas wreath on the front door.

The moment you closed the door to your car you saw the front door open and Warner and William busted out and ran toward you, “Y/n!! You came!” – “Dad said you were coming!”

They both hugged you, one on each side and you could have cried. You hadn’t seen them since August and it was already December. You felt like they’d grown bigger in those few months.

They started to pull you toward the house but you laughed and stopped, “Hold on! I have presents for everyone in the car I have to get.”

You opened your trunk and pulled out two bags that had presents inside and when you closed it Harry was there in the yard watching you with a soft grin. You felt blood rush to the apples of your cheeks at the sight of him and your heart throbbed in your chest.

“Hi, Y/n,” his dimples winked awake and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he stepped forward to take your bags, handing one to Warner and one to William, “Take these inside and pour Y/n a glass of the New Year’s mocktail we made. We’ll be right in.”

You clasped your hands behind your back as you let your eyes fall over his outfit. He was wearing a red chunky knit sweater with a big green Christmas tree in the center that had gold and silver balls all over it, “Love the sweater.”

Harry looked down at it and back at you, “Love that you’re here.”

The heat that spread over your face stretched down your neck and your back as he stepped in closer. He was far too handsome for his own good and all the memories you had with him were flooding your brain with inappropriate thoughts but also with fondness and excitement.

“Thank you for inviting me.” You looked up at him as he stood directly in front of you.

Harry stared down at you for a moment, his eyes blinking and his pink lips twitching tremulously, “I know I look ridiculous in this,” he gestured at his sweater looking down at it and then back at you, “and this isn’t the most romantic reunion but I wanted to ask you before the festivities started if you’d like to go on a date with me tomorrow night?”

Your lips parted as the question floated around in the air between you two. You couldn’t believe he was asking you on a date.

“A date? Like…” You bit your lip and looked down at the ground and back up at Harry, “A date date?”

Harry smiled widely and nodded, “A date date.”

You exhaled a small laugh and nodded, “Harry, I’d love that. Yes.”

Suddenly his arms were wound around your middle and you squealed as he lifted you from the ground and spun you in his arms. The moment your feet hit the grass he gave you a quick kiss, cupping your face in his hands, and then parted as he looked back at the house.

Harry let you go and smirked at you as he took your hand to lead you to the house whispering, “Now I know this sweater is pure sex but you’re just gonna have to keep your hands to yourself tonight.”

You laughed and squeezed his hand, “It’s gonna be hard but I think I can behave.”

Harry stopped and turned his face toward you, his warm mouth at your ear, “Y/n, I’m so glad you’re here.”

A/N: I hope you guys loved this! Let me know your thoughts please!!

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ghostieyanyan · 2 months

Text

♡~Yandere Valentine in Twisted Wonderland~♡

Yan!Twisted wonderland x mc (separated)

sorry this is a bit late but here's some of my short takes on valentines day in twisted wonderland!

Warnings: yandere, lack of proof reading (sorry), collars, pet-play, drugs, manipulation, hinting nsfw, beating someone up, dead animal, wedding, hidden camera, (if theres anything missing please do tell me)

~~~~~

Riddle

Riddle has been planning something for you before February even started, probably before new year too. He understand that he doesn't really have a nurturing touch, thanks to his mom, like the others do. But that wouldn't stop him from trying his best to make you feel special.

He'll ask you to have tea with him and if you happen to be distracted by "other matters." he doesn't mind using his unique spell and pull you around by the collar, like a dog.

"its very rude to not pay attention to the person that invited you out.."

~~~~~

Trey

As a vice house warden, he understands that you'll be busy. not just Crowley giving you either impossible or pointless work, or the fact that every boy from each and every dorm are falling to their feet just for you on valentines day, hoping you'll notice them.

Trey knows he's not like some flash students here but he knows what he's good at and doesn't need to try too hard like some other desperate students.

"Hey, perfect! i made you something, your favorite, with a little personal Trey touch~ you should probably eat it all now. Before Grim does."

~~~~~

Cater

Cater is pretty good at getting your attentions. Magicless other worlder, he just has to invite you to something outside of NRC and then watch as your eyes sparkles. Kind of reminds him of a little kid that just need extra attention which he's happy to do.

He'll show you cool different places, shops and cafes. All these cool places are picture perfect and he just loves dressing up with you. from an outside eye, it almost looks like you 2 are dating~

"Perfect! Look at this! we should totally take a picture here with our treats! Say "Happy Valentines Day~!"

~~~~~

Ace

You were very confused on why Ace has been grumpy all day. you tried everything to make him feel better but nothing. You bought him food, drinks, candy from Sam's. nothing.

After the day was over, you made it back to the dorm and Ace decided to follow you back? you tried to ask him what's wrong buy he swiftly grabbed you and rush to your room!

"All day has been a pain.. everyone gawking at you. All the meaningless gifts. All of it! Tonight, you're gonna make it up to me by letting me sleep with you!"

~~~~~

Deuce

Deuce wants to turn a new leaf and doesn't want to look back at his delinquent side every again. he's a new deuce now, a student that's just trying to get good grades and trying to be well respected. but old habits die hard.

Any and every time some one even looks in your way, he's sending daggers at them. and if they don't get the hide, he'll tell you that he needs to use the restroom and for you to stay where you are until he's back. he'll be quick...

"sorry it took me a while, there was.. a long line... wanna get lunch now?"

~~~~~

Leona

Leona, normally, doesn't care for this holiday. his brother always ask him if he's "stolen any hearts" this year? its always the same answer. but this year was different.

For once, he gotten some valentines gift. he remembered, not because he was eavesdropping, he just sleeping and you and your friends were talking about valentines gifts. how you had too many and how you might have to do several trips to bring them back to your dorm...

when you looked at your pile of valentines, instead of valentines, you saw sand.. and a plush lion with a card, flowers, and chocolate..

~~~~~

Ruggie

Ruggie cant really communicate with his grandma that much, cause they're not in a position to have phones but he does send letters now and then.

Each letter has there, 'how are you?'s to their 'are you taking care of yourself?'s. Now his letters to his grandma had this mysterious person, and how 'he's feels his heart flutter whenever they're near.' there also might be some 'I'm worried that I'm not good enough' he was very happy to get this letter back

"don't worry, sweetheart~ you should bring them over and ill give them a good talking to."

~~~~~

Jack

Jack tried everything to stay away from you all day. You're smell was just too intoxicating for him. Jack didn't want to risk spending time with you and his instinct...

he could tell, the other beastmen felt the same way. So all day, he kept his distance while also putting other beastmen in their place when they get a little too handy with you. luckily you didn't notice a thing.

But when you approached him, he couldn't just push you away. you mean too much to him. he doesn't want you to see him like.. a monster.

"Hi, prefect. how's you're day..?"

~~~~~

Azul

Azul tried to just charm you with his charisma alone, no shady actions, no "read the fine print." it seem like he was on his best behavior all day. it made you feel uncomfortable for a hot while.. but after a few hours you gotten use to it.

It was all in Azul's plan. instead of flatly telling you or tricking you to form a contact with him. he was gonna show you that you could rely on him, to trust him. so when you do sign a contact with him, you're guard will be so low, you wouldn't ever dare look at the fine print

"Prefect? Would you like to stop by Mosta lounge for lunch? there's a special i know you'll love. oh! its on the house."

~~~~~

Jade

before valentines day, Jade asked you to go out with him on a hilling trip. you'll find great mushrooms and if you find any 'shiny treasure' you could keep it as payment. you felt bored at the time and went with it. it was pretty fun. Jade taught you about wildlife and camping and you just enjoyed being out and about, anywhere than Grim's messes was a fresh air.

But on one of the day's out, Jade fell and hurt himself! it'll take a while for you guys to head back so you both decided to just wait until it heals, or when jade is "strong enough" to head back.

"aww.. prefect, you're too sweet for taking care of me~"

~~~~~

Floyd

Floyd has been a pin to your side all day. every time you were just talking to your friends or in line for lunch or whatever, Floyd comes out of nowhere, picks you up and runs away from your friends. it doesn't help that his long legs gives him a big advantage. the fact you cant struggle that much and the fact that you're friends cant keep up with Floyd...

When he finally gets alone time with you he just wants to play or just stare at you... its a mix really. sometimes he'll tell you he wants to show you a trick he learned from the basketball club. sometimes he just wants to walk around with you on his shoulders. but one things for sure, everyone is staying far away from both of you...

"Shrimpy! look at this! it kind of reminds me of you.. cause you're smol~"

~~~~~

Kalim

Lets admit it, when Kalim falls in love, he falls HARD. Like he would spoil his love rotten if he could. But he knows that you wouldn't allow him to do so, cause you're just too sweet.

Kalim loves to watch you work sometimes, you're so hard working even though you're in a situation that he couldn't imagine. Far from home with no contacted to your families, that's terrible. but he'll show you that he could help solve all your problems. But he doesn't want to overwhelm you so he'll start small.

"HEY PREFECT!!! Look what i got you! Golden bangles! they have our initials on them too! Come on, try them on! I'll help."

~~~~~

Jamil

Jamil could easily used his unique spell on you but with it being Valentines day plus every student's having their eyes on you, he cant do it without getting caught. So, he'll have have to charm you with the next best thing, food.

He understand the for some people, food is their love language. He wasn't sure if that's you but he does know that you love his food. so a win is a win.

He'll make you not only your favorite foods but his own too. As a "get to know me" dish. Watching you enjoy his hard work, was like breathing fresh air. he loves your presence.

"here prefect, you can have more. i made it for you after all. hmm..? oh repayment? just repay me by spending the day with me.. just me."

~~~~~

Vil

Without warning, on a weekend, Vil grabs you and tells you get to dress. he's taking you out. You couldn't really say no to him so off you went.

He took you to store to store to store. Each store had either something he liked or something he didn't. did you have a say in anything? no.

It felt weird a bit but overtime that feeling went away and you were left with giving Vil a mini show fashion show... with just you and him...

~~~~~

Rook

Saying Rook loved you was an understatement. he loved your hair, your eyes, your walk, your demeaner, everything. On one of his strolls by your dorm, he noticed that you were taking care of a stray animal in your backyard.

You left food for it, you made a spot it could rest, you had a whole set up. even though you don't have a lot of money, you're golden heart shined through. He felt like cupid just struck him through the heart. He would like to do the same to you...

so on Valentines day, you found a box at your door step. inside the box... was your stray friend's lifeless body...

~~~~~

Epel

Epel's family loves to send him letters, he at least gets one every week. they're all mostly asking if he needs anything or family updates, etc. But now talks about you his letter. last time he visited his family, they kept asking about you.

Epel feeling the pressure of his family, told them that you and him were together and how you had "other things to take care of" and that's why you're not with him. they seem to calm down and jumped to another family topic. Now Epel has to convince you to "pretend" hopefully don't for long, that he was your boyfriend for his family.

"umm... hey prefect? i have a favor to ask you..?"

~~~~~

Idia

Idia normally doesn't care of any holidays, in general. he mainly does them for his brother or whenever a game was having a seasonal event. but he couldn't say he had someone special to "sit by the fireplace with him with hot chocolate" or "having a picnic out in spring" or even "being or having a valentine"... He didn't mind it...

which what he'll normally say, until he saw you with your pile of valentines day gifts! augh.. why do you have to be so popular?!

With a lot of pushing from ortho, he finally gave you your gift. it was a blue teddy that looked like hades. You didn't have to know about the hidden camera and mic in it. you could just thank him by sleeping with it~

~~~~~

Malleus

Malleus couldn't really celebrate valentine's day.. he's a prince of Briar Valley, after all. Having him give a valentines day gift can be interpreted as a marriage proposal. that will look every bad for Briar Valley. But the heart wants what it cant have~

His heart belonged to you and he would gladly throw away his position as a prince for you. or... he could just ask you to marry him?

He didn't want anything to come to harm you because of him, so in secret, he made you a wedding dress/suit. Until his graduation, he'll ask you to marry him and then he'll pick you up and off to Briar Valley, ruling together~

~~~~~

Lilia

Lilia loves a good trip. So many places to see, so many things to do. He wants to take you to see it all. why stay at NRC and just reading about other places when you could go out with him. he may be older but he could still protect you with all he has and he'll still be able to show you a fun time. Oh maybe he should show you how to fight?

He's had his eyes on you since you came to the school, you were so strange but you are never boring. something always happened with you around but you all ways find a way out of it. you're, well..... perfect.

"Prefect! guess who got 2 tickets to Shaftland! why just two? for me and you silly. come on, get your things. I'm gonna show you so much more of this twisted wonderland"

~~~~~

Silver

You understand that Silver is just a tried guy. so you do everything in your power to make sure he's okay and not gonna get hurt. After a while of this, you've noticed that Silver's holds on you, when ever you go and move him to a safer place, is more forceful than normal? You just told yourself that it was just sleepy silver but it doesn't seem like silver noticed and you didn't mind.

Whenever Silver was awake, you noticed that he's always just a call away. he wasn't over your shoulder or anything but you did see him more often than you usual did... were you thinking too much on this..?

"hey prefect? i got you some treats from Sam's... happy valentines day~"

~~~~~

Sebek

Sebek is loud. that is not an understatement. bet Sebek probably knows that too. he often uses it to tell other to "respected Malleus." but today he was oddly quiet? you tried to ask him if everything was okay, he said he's fine. Also whenever the other first years asked, he'll snap but not at his normal loud tone?

Without you realizing, Sebek was actually fighting an inner demon of his. Humans, like yourself, were so small and weak. yes, Silver is human too but he's a trained human, you weren't.

He sometimes wonders... how easy would it be to over-power yo-

~❦~❦~❦~

Che'nya

When Che'nya first appear in front of you with just his head, you, ace, and deuce all screamed. he loved it~ but your little squeak whenever you get scared, gets his blood pumping. like the rush you get when you catch you first mouse~

He started to visit more often then before, but not just to say hi to trey and riddle. but to spook their little perfect. a pick to the side here. a blowing into your ear there.

He just cant keep his hands off you! the best part, he doesn't have plans on even telling you it was him.

~~~~~

Neige

but to Vil's dismay, Neige kept bugging him about you! the mysterious manager~ Vil got so tired on it that he just pointed him to your dorm. Which Neige was happy to run to see you.

When he saw you place, he's heart broke a little. how could someone so lovely as you, live in a dump like this? He found you out in the back yard cleaning. it kind of reminded him of himself, run down building taking care of others. you were perfect for him!

"Heya! perfect, right? i was wondering, would you like to go on a date with me?"

~~~~~

Rollo

Rollo will not caught walking into THAT school. but that wont stop him from appreciating you. Whether it takes a few days to a few years, Rollo swears to himself that he will save you from the hell hole your in.

but in the mean time he'll send you some flowers and a gift basket filled with Fleur City treats and fun toys that you liked when you last visit. if only you were in that school and you were in his, he'll show you so much and treat you much better than those.. "monsters."

"If though I'm not there, i hope you enjoy my gift. maybe next time you could visit again and I'll give you a personal tour."

~❦~❦~❦~

you can see this as platonic or romantic

~~~~~

Crowley

Crowley is a very strange bird man? says he cares for you then runs away with his feather tail in between his legs. Or when he just hands you work when he could easily do them himself. He's a very strange man so when he was insisting on you to stay by his side all day? it confused you.

like he'll have you in his office and when you tell him you needed to go. he'll "get sad" and say "awww.. i guess ill just power through all this paper work"

you thought he just wanted you to do the paper work (that you could do) so you did. you didn't figure out that maybe he just wanted you by his side so no one could see/ give you anything for valentines day.

~~~~~

Crewel

Crewel is a very classic man. so when he asked you to help him with some of his designs, you were quite confused. why not ask Vil or anyone from pomefiore? nonetheless, you helped as best as you can. giving your input on designs, telling him what you thought looked nice, getting materials for him, etc.

After you helped him make a set, he asked you to model them for him. he "wanted it on an actual person than a motionless mannequin."

You didnt know that he was doing this so you wouldnt be laying down with dogs with fleas today. Crewel thinks all the boys in this school are just crazy the fact its valentines day. so having you help him was just killing 2 bird with one stone.

~~~~~

Trein

Trein's cat, Lucius, seemed fine to you. but you couldn't say much when Trein asked you to help him look after his beloved pet. plus a cat that doesn't call you Hedgeman felt nice. a cat that was just a normal cat, that can understand you and talk but you don't understand it...

On Valentines Day, Trein tells you about his wife and what they do together on this day. It was really sweet to hear an old man talk about his love, plus his life too.

It felt nice and you enjoyed the time you spend together. you still couldnt tell if Lucius was actually sick or if he was just winning about food...

~~~~~

Vargas

You had no idea what came over Vargas. But when it was gym time and there was any partner exercises, it seems like he'll give the poor guys, that asked you to be partners, more hard exercises.

it could be in your head but after you're done, you see the poor student crying for squats or something? Will he be okay?

"oh, don't worry about him. he's been slacking off recently so its just catching up with him. HAHA!"

~~~~~

Sam

Sam is quite busy on Valentines day. a lot of students ask for valentines day cards, bears, to flowers. some even get the custom order. with those custom orders, he realized a lot of them were for you... he might not be able to do anything.. but his friends might help.

when same gives the students the valentines day gifts, he has a shadow follow them and when they're not looking. the shadow destroys the gift and runs away.

it kills two bird with one stone. they cant give the perfect gifts and Sam still gets the money. oohh he loves what he does~

~~~~~

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so-this-is-hell · 4 months

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Ok I watched the leaked episodes

Let’s start with the positives! I love positives!

- Alex Brightman put his whole Alexussy into this shit oh my god, Pentious and Adam actually sound really good. Adam singing is also really really good. Alex can sing in character and carry things well and I’m glad now he’s part of the project. Because at least it’ll be bearable if I see the other episodes.

-Vox is actually weirdly really compelling? Like I actually ended up enjoying the vibe he’s got and his own voice grew on me, I know it’s not what people wanted but it works well.

-Nifty’s voice is pretty ok, so is Charlie’s. They’re some of the better voices of the cast, Alastor’s performance was uh. It wasn’t bad so there’s that!

-the opening exposition was needed but also a bit hamfisted- wait shit the positives- uh, I love the direction it went? Art wise?

-the songs are pretty good, they get you from point A to point B, and at least wasn’t Poison levels of cringe in writing.

-Charlie actually helping Pentious in episode 2 try to repent and be a better person actually feels nice, like a crumb of what the show should of be-

…

Ok let’s get to the point.

-the episodes clearly are trying to shove as much of the plot as humanly possible, to the point that you get whiplash.

-Angel Dust, Vaggie, Valentino, Husk all have voices that either do not fit, crack from the pressure to perform, or are trying so hard to mimic the previous voice that it’s actually worrying. The Angel dust one in particular I’ll get to when I get to the point.

-The plot starts with the main antagonist, literally telling Charlie that her plan is pointless and she should give up. There’s no actual “I want” song to counter this, unless you count the song where Adam mocks her for trying and tells her the exterminations will happen twice a year now.

-Pentious at least wasn’t a creep like i was fearing in the script, but he comes off too pathetic? Like I know he was pathetic and that’s the point but why the fuck does he want to be equal to the Vees now? Didn’t he want to rule over hell himself? I know the instagram had him crop himself into pictures with the Vees but remember those aren’t canon!

-I realized I was able to hop in because I had Wikipedia level knowledge of these characters to the point they click in my head (and enough to where Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie and Husk all felt a little off but that’s neither here nor there). But god I cannot imagine being a new person trying to jump into this show, this is bad. None of the characters get actually introduced outside of Charlie, the show references the pilot which isn’t part of the show so new audiences have no idea what they’re talking about, and the staff gets actually introduced in episode 2. EPISODE 2, TO PENTIOUS!? GIRLIE POP HAVE HIM COME EPISODE 1 THEN?

-Animation that’s either too floaty, too janky, too stiff or straight up traced. Which I don’t blame the animators for, Mammon was busy buying 10,000 dollars worth of peacocks to bother paying them more than a dollar per frame. There’s no charm here.

-Where did the fucking cat key come from? No I’m serious. Where did it come from? It just kinda exists now.

-Alastor’s commercial is just straight up MEAN and he’s often more mean than chaotic, which I know is ironic since he wasn’t a good person and I wasn’t expecting him to be but it’s to a point where it’s not even fun mean. He literally called Charlie’s endeavor “Daddy issues”. It felt like he was just there to slap Charlie in the face.

-Angel Dust rant is gonna be so long that I saved it for last.

I have to put it under the read more because of talk of SA! Fun!

Ok.

I’m saying this as someone who loved him from the pilot and was willing to excuse his behavior as “flaws he can work on” since Addict and everything else proved that there was more under the surface and he was a character that could change and grow and-

…

Angel dust, the rape victim… the guy running away from his abuser…

The Angel dust who has traumatic episodes so fucking graphic that he flashes back to them when he’s performing.

Saying “yeah no, fucking sexually exploit me! It turns me on!”

Viv, I know you’re not reading this but I mean this genuinely.

Fuck you.

As someone who’s family has experienced sexual abuse, as someone who’s family still has CPTSD because men in power decide to exploit them… how fuckin dare you make a character enjoy their own exploitation.

This isn’t me kink shaming a sexual character! He can be sexual and like sex! It’s never been the problem and hell it could of been liberation to have sex he deserves.

But no.

Let’s make the SA victim into the sexual harassment character, let’s make the SA victim the Stolas of the show where he wears down his love interest so thin that they have to give up.

Let’s make the SA victim still work under his shitty abuser, and make that into a joke as the abuser mentions wanting to rape everyone in the hotel.

Don’t pay to watch this show, I mean it.

Pirate it.

Hell don’t even watch it, find something better to watch. I’ve been binging anime as of late and I still like captain lazerhawk.

#hazbin leaks #hazbin hotel critical #oh yeah btw I reneg my statement of letting go of Angel dust #I’m stealing his ass #Viv stole from people anyways #Angel dust is now my character and I am keeping him away from Valentino #The radio dust au is gonna be my comfort from this

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superectojazzmage · 10 months

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Watched the Nimona movie last night. Review I guess. It was pretty damn good. Definitely would’ve probably been regarded as Blue Sky’s magnum opus if they’d gotten to release it instead of being fucked over by Disney. Very cute, very funny, very powerful in the right moments. A thing that stuck out to me is that it’s really only an adaptation in the loosest sense of the word. It takes the core premise and beats of the comic but is functionally an entirely different kind of story that does its own thing. And given that ND Stevenson was heavily involved in production, I suspect that was intentional.

The comic was much darker and more downbeat in a lot of ways, plus it was significantly longer and thus could afford to be slower paced. But more than that, it was a lot more meaty in terms of themes and scope. The whole “LGBT allegory” element was there, but it wasn’t the sole focus, the comic was a story about a lot of different things; not just an LGBT experience, but also discussion of fantasy genre tropes and clichés, criticism of other fantasy deconstructions, character study, exploring what it means to be a hero or villain, critique of the glorification of crime and cruelty in underprivileged communities, corruption in governments, peer pressure, the senseless and self-perpetuating nature of violence, the worthlessness of revenge, etc.. And above all that, it was a story about trauma and people’s responses to it, with Ballister representing people who actually deal with their problems and move on while Nimona represented people who let their mistakes and suffering and grief consume their identity, or worse, use it as an excuse to indulge their worst qualities and take out their feelings on everyone around them.

The movie, by contrast, has a much more narrow focus. The LGBT allegory is front and center and basically the entire focal point of the movie, aside from a spattering of themes about the danger of zealotry and rigid fundamentalist thinking. This gives the movie a much tighter narrative and pacing that suits its inherently shorter runtime, but also leads to a ton of changes to the story either to convey a different kind of message or just work better in a different medium. Most obviously in how Nimona is vastly more sympathetic in the movie and essentially really is the silly gremlin the comic fakes you out into thinking she is, scrapping the comic’s twist that she was a genuinely bad person who was completely serious about wanting to be a villain, caring nothing for the lives she destroyed with her behavior and idolizing Ballister because she thought he was the same as her and would thus tell her what she wanted to hear (i.e., that she was justified in killing and destroying everything around her in the name of getting even). And in the changes to the Institution’s history and nature. And all sorts of other things.

All in all, I feel if you go in comparing and contrasting the movie and the comic, arguing which changes are for the better or worse, you’ll be setting yourself up for disappointment in either direction because they’re two different beasts and it’s like comparing apples and oranges. So keep that in mind if you’re a fan of the comic watching the movie or a fan of the movie wanting to look into the comic. I think ultimately I still like the comic better, but that’s purely my personal opinion and there’s plenty that I think the movie did better.

Some other observations:

Riz Ahmed my beloved, thank you Mr. Stevenson for this perfect casting. Literally perfect for Ballister.

Acting in general was very good. You can tell this was a passion project for a lot of people, not just Stevenson.

Only two changes that are objectively bad are Ambrosius losing his awesome Van Halen hairdo and changing Ballister’s last name — Blackheart is a way cooler name than Boldheart and it’s a pointless change, one that I’d argue even hurts the narrative since it makes it too obvious that Ballister isn’t actually a bad guy.

The animation is really great with fantastic expressions, stylish movement, and wonderful aesthetics that perfectly suit the story, but there’s times where it feels a little off. But there are parts where it looks less “movie” and more “cheap mid-2000s CGI-and-Flash cartoon show from France”.

The humor can be a hit and miss, in a “going through the motions of a Hollywood animated comedy for kids” way. The movie excels when it’s either imitating the comic’s Old Internet sense of humor or going hard on the drama, but there’s bits where it seemingly slams on the brakes to do Illumination-esque Twitter humor and those bits definitely throw off the vibe.

Having an actual straight up attempted suicide in the climax was shockingly ballsy. I genuinely can’t believe they went there, but I’m glad they did because the film wouldn’t have felt nearly as raw without it.

I don’t know how they managed to make the Director even more of an asshole than in the comics, but they did.

#nimona #nimona film #nd stevenson #ballister boldheart #ballister blackheart #ambrosius goldenloin #movie review #animated movies #movies #films #comic books #dc comics #webcomic #web comics #indie comics #netflix #blue sky studios #lgbt film #lgbt fantasy

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sturniolowhore · 4 months

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☁️ BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND #1

summary ⎯ venus has had her eyes on her brother's best friend chris for as long as she can remember but she is far too scared that's all she is to him, his best friend's little sister. what happens when she realises he sees her in a different light and how will she and chris keep it hidden from her brother who has always told his friends never to meddle about with his sister?

part two! ♯ part three! ♯ part four! ♯ part five!

♯ part six!

warnings ⎯ suggestive and sexual, eventual smut, chris x fem!oc, fluff, cursing, kind of angst (?), not proofread

A/N ⎯ finally working on something with parts to it so i'm excited!! as a reminder, leo and venus do not exist irl, i just chose any random names for the sake of the story.

i hope you enjoy <3

❛ ━━･❪ ִ ࣪𖤐 ❫ ･━━ ❜

"vee! i think that's chris, can you let him in and tell him i'll be down in five minutes?" venus' brother leo asks her from upstairs, most likely doing something last minute as he always is.

she yells a quick response before heading towards the door, a nervous feeling bubbling up inside of her that always forms when she so much as thinks about chris. honestly speaking, she's liked him for years and everytime he comes over to hang out with her brother, she has to try and act as though she doesn't feel anything towards him. it's hard to do so when he's just so fucking hot and everything about him sends her into a spiral from his voice to his personality and everything in between.

she puts her thoughts aside quickly and opens the door after a brief nervous exhale and comes face to face with what she can only describe as the most gorgeous being she has ever seen, literally. he grins at her with that beautiful smile and she tries her utmost hardest not to fold right then and there at the sight.

"alright saturn?" he asks her, ruffling her hair in greeting as he steps into the house, shutting the door behind him and sliding his shoes off in the meantime.

chris and leo have been friends since they were very young and with that came a friendship between chris and venus. venus likes to think they're close given how long they've known each other but she knows her friendship with him will never surpass the one with him and her brother. he's basically acted like she's leo's little sister for their entire lives so she always doubts things but at the same time, it's reassuring to know chris will never hurt her because of leo.

she isn't actually sure when the nickname saturn appeared but as much as she pretends it annoys her, she's grown rather fond of it. maybe it's the way chris thinks it's the funniest thing in the world that expands her love for it but who's really paying any mind to that?

she smiles softly at him and nods her head before she can stare at him for too long and dwell on the feeling of his hand on her head, "i'm good, how are you?"

"i'm good, better now that i'm not arguing with nick and matt about pointless shit," his tone is slightly angry as he speaks about them and she mentally scolds herself for finding it attractive.

"lee's said he's going to be like five minutes, you can just wait in the living room," she tells him before making her way to the stairs in the hallway to get away without embarrassing herself somehow but before she can get too far, his hand catches her wrist and she turns to face him with somewhat wide eyes.

"don't leave me all bored, come sit with me," he says it as though he hasn't just made her heart race at a million beats per minute so she has no choice but to act nonchalant, offering him a small smile and following him to the living room in a silence that should be comforting but just makes her think about being in close proximity with him and alone at that.

she follows him to the couch and it's slightly amusing because well this is meant to be her house but it seems he's taking control entirely, not that she minds anyway. she'd pretty much do anything for chris, even if he himself is not aware of that fact. she does however sit first, leaving him to decide the distance between the two of them but it seems he isn't one for a lot of space and sits right beside her, his thigh lightly pressing into hers.

she tries not to think about it too much but she can't help it, there's something about chris that just sprouts these sexual thoughts in her head instantly and the fact that her thighs are barely covered with her shorts is just fuelling everything that much more. his hands are placed in his lap and she has to fight the urge to replace them with her own. just his best friend's little sister, she reminds herself mentally and tries not to sigh at the thought.

he turns to her with a curious look on his face and her eyes flicker to the slightest stubble decorating his chin, "lee told me you won the volleyball tournament, that's so fucking sick. i'm so proud of you."

chris sturniolo is proud of her. god he needs to get away immediately so she can scream her happiness into a pillow. but of course, he's right here so she remains calm, still beaming at him but not scaring him off in the process. she gives him a large grin that he returns so fucking beautifully.

"thank you," is all she can manage to get out, too occupied by the way his body is extremely close to hers.

he evidently isn't done with the conversation though because he starts to speak again easily, "so what's next? are you going to become a famous player so i can come to your games and cheer you on from the crowds?"

her heart flutters at the thought of chris coming to watch her play, coming to a game just for her but she quickly stops before she gets too far ahead. he isn't saying anything in the way she wants, he's just being his pure and friendly self.

"oh yeah, nevermind that, i'll give you special vip passes and you can watch from a private area and greet me after every match with signature goldfish," she jokes, remembering their common love for goldfish.

"goldfish? after you won a match? lame! i'll give you a little kiss instead," he beams at her and she rolls her eyes at him as a response.

there's also that. chris jokingly flirts with venus at every opportunity he gets and if she wasn't so used to seeing him flirt with other people, she might even think it was real but no such luck. all she can do when he acts in such a manner is shut him down instantly and act like her heart doesn't beat to the sound of his voice.

"c'mon saturn, you know you want it," he teases and all she can think is i really fucking do.

but of course she can't tell him that so she lies straight though her teeth, "as if i want that stinking mouth anywhere near me."

he laughs at her words before he settles on his own, "i'll get you to crack one day just wait for it. i'll make the fuck out with-" and then he stops mid sentence because leo walks in and honestly, venus thanks him internally because there's no way chris could have finished that sentence without her melting onto the couch in heat.

"chris sorry man, i was feeding lilo," he apologises, referring to the cat, and chris casts it aside instantly, standing up to pull leo into a short hug like usual.

"you could have just told me to do it," venus points out with a shrug but she's also not fussed that he didn't seeing as she spent even a little amount of time with chris.

"isn't lilo venus' cat anyway?" chris raises his brow because that's literally what he's been told ever since they got her.

"she is but lee steals her all the time. i keep telling him to get his own cat and then he can even name it stitch," she rambles excitedly before she gives chris a sheepish smile, knowing she probably seems too passionate about such a small thing.

instead of making fun of her though, chris instead praises her for the idea, "i fucking love lilo and stitch. lee you have to get a cat now and name it stitch."

lee shakes his head at the two of them before slumping onto the couch on the other side of chris, "maybe one day."

"we're gonna watch a movie vee, you staying?" lee questions and that sounds very appealing right now, especially because that means she gets to sit next to chris the entire time.

"yeah i'd love to," naturally, she finds herself agreeing and that's that.

they search netflix for a while before they settle on a random movie that venus has never heard of. if she's being entirely truthful, she wasn't even listening when chris and leo were deciding, she was too preoccupied with staring at chris' flawless side profile.

a while into the movie, she feels her eyes growing heavy and she knows she should probably get up and go to her room to sleep but chris threw his arm over her shoulder a bit ago and the feelings of his body against hers is really fucking comfortable. she attempts to keep her focus on the movie and the characters speaking and the scenes playing out and⎯

she falls alseep, not realising and with her head resting on chris' chest. she of course doesn't know how anyone reacts seeing as she's fallen asleep but when she wakes up after some time, she finds herself in the same position with the tv turned off and chris and leo talking away. chris never moved. his arm is still around her and her head is still glued to his body. her insides feel warm in unexplainable ways but she knows she needs to leave him and lee alone so they can spend some time together without her.

she pretends she's just woken up after a few minutes. okay so her plan was to get up straight away but chris just felt so warm, she couldn't help it.

said boy turns to face her as she stirs and stretches her arms, a small smile planted on her face. he smiles so softly at her, "morning saturn."

she scowls at him but she's enjoying every moment on the down low, "you're so funny chris."

"that's no way to talk to someone who let you use them as a personal pillow for two hours, is it lee?" he turns to leo and of fucking course, leo instantly backs chris up with a teasing grin of his own.

he shakes his head, "really disrespectful chris, some people need to learn manners."

"fuck you guys, i'm going upstairs," she stands up whilst chris and lee laugh with one another as though they've made the funniest jokes in the universe.

"bye saturn."

"bye vee," the two of them say at the same time and so she mumbles a small goodbye in response, following through with her words and heading to her bedroom with a foolish grin that can't be stopped on her face.

for the rest of the day and days after that, she obsesses with the little moments she shared with chris in the way she always does. it may be a little unhealthy how much she thinks about him but who can blame her? he's just so perfect.

❛ ━━･❪ ִ ࣪𖤐 ❫ ･━━ ❜

tags: @mattslolita

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voidconversations · 1 year

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GHOSTING YOU. [1]

navi. | gy masterlist. | main masterlist.

note: just a lil something i whipped up. this will have like .. maybe three parts?? this is part one ! hope y’all enjoy

warnings: mentions of death, mentions of murder, ghosts

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

word count: 6.4k

summary: you’ve been haunting the R.P.D for months now. you didn’t think things would change until a certain blonde haired rookie showed up.

Falling. Gravity pulling your body downwards with such force that when you hit the floor; everything went black. And when you wake up, you find that you’re not entirely yourself anymore. There’s something missing. A person, a place, a memory. Your memory. All you know is that it was important. This loss, this carved out space in your mind, was important. It’s an answer.

It’s how you died.

—

You’ve been haunting the Raccoon City police station for the past three months. Three months of people walking right past you; or through you. Three months of screaming so loudly for someone — anyone — to acknowledge you going unanswered. You didn’t know why you were here. You couldn’t remember and trying to remember was painful. Excruciatingly so. It would start off as a buzz, a little harmless noise in your head, then it would transform into a sharp ringing. One so loud you swear you could feel it through your whole body. The pain that accompanied the noise was unbearable. So, you’d stop trying to remember. And eventually you’d give up trying altogether.

You’d start walking around the station with no real destination, no purpose. You’d stop looking over officers’ shoulders to try to get a glimpse at the newspaper they’d be reading, searching for your name to see if your death was in the papers. You’d stop talking to them, stop hoping that at some point one of them would finally hear your voice. And you’d stop attempting to leave the station and just accept the fact that you were never leaving.

Your attempts to leave the station at first were always futile. When you’d approach an exit there was always this naked wall blocking it. Preventing you from moving forward. Pushing your hands and throwing your body against this invisible force never once faltered the strength of it.

You remember the first day you got here. You were so scared and so unknowing of what pointless, repetitive, future you had in store. You had hope. Something that has since left you. Hope that if you could just figure out how you died, you would get to move on. Go someplace better than having to watch people live as you were stuck in an endless cycle of this lonely misery.

Loneliness, it’s all you ever feel now, you can’t remember how it feels to have an interaction with someone who can reciprocate it. Someone who knows you exist. That’s all you want, to be known. To have someone to talk to in this shit hole of a place. It wouldn’t matter to you if you were stuck here forever, as long as you had someone to acknowledge you. It wouldn’t be so bad if you had someone.

Today was the same as all the others, you listen in on people’s conversations, hear them talk about shit that doesn’t interest you but you have no other entertainment. Unless they turn on the TV in the break-room, then you glide through walls to watch whatever they put on. Sometimes, when you’re feeling mischievous, you’ll brush your fingers on the backs of people’s necks, just to watch their skin grow goosebumps and their heads whip back to find what ‘touched’ them.

It’s not much, but it’s all you got.

You walk over to your two favorite officers to eavesdrop on; Chris Redfield and Jill Valentine. They’re not regular officers, they’re a part of S.T.A.R.S. You don’t know exactly what they do, you just know they’re a different division. If you really wanted to, you could find out, but you honestly don’t care. Watching them is interesting while they’re here, but only because of Chris’s massive crush on Jill. It’s so obvious yet she doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe she doesn’t want to. You don’t think that’s the case though. From what you’ve seen, how they’ve interacted, they’re both into one another. But neither one of them will make the first move.

It's almost too hard to watch. The awkward touches, the sheepish smiles, the way everyone else whispers about them. You wish you could put them out of their misery and just tell them to get it over with and kiss already. Of course, you can’t though. All you can do is sit and watch them talk, pretend that maybe they can see you too, and that you’re a part of this conversation they’re having.

Leaning on their conjoined desks, you fold your arms over your chest and listen.

“Heard there’s a new rookie comin’ in today.” Chris grins as he says it.

Jill perks her head up at that, “I bet you’re excited about that. Someone new to torture with your insane initiation ritual.”

“We haven’t had a new guy in so long, Jill! With all the work Wesker has us dealing with right now, we deserve to do something fun.”

“Yeah, well, my idea of fun is different than yours. Poor guy doesn’t know what he’s getting into joining our station.” She shakes her head, “Remember what happened last time you ‘initiated’ a new rookie?”

He grimaces, “How could I forget? I was the talk of the station for a month after Wesker chewed my ass out for it. Not to mention, I had to clean toilets as a punishment.”

“I think you’re the only person in this station who has made Wesker lose his cool.” She snickers.

You shift uncomfortably at the mention of their captain. You can’t explain why he makes you so uneasy, he just does. You’ve been everywhere in this station but the S.T.A.R.S office is one place you won’t go since he’s always there — except for now, he hasn’t come in yet today. You’ve chalked the reason up to just being that his reputation is less than friendly. Anywhere he is, is an instant repellent for you. His presence doesn’t only bother you though, no, you’ve noticed that everyone in the station will tense up around him. Even Lieutenant Branagh, which is an amazing feat on its own, considering the Lieutenant seems afraid of nothing.

Branagh is probably the one who will be training the rookie. The thought of following a new person around the station gets you excited, no one has been transferred while you’ve been here so this is new. Another person for you to scare the shit out of, the thought makes you smirk.

You zone back into the conversation, wanting to know more about this rookie.

“Heard rumors about him from other students in the academy.” Chris lowers his voice, leaning closer to Jill. You roll your eyes at the obvious way he just wanted to be closer to her. “Apparently, his parents were into some heavy crime, they were mobsters or some shit. Because of that, they were murdered. Kid saw the whole thing.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, feeling slightly guilty for planning on haunting him when he got here. A kid watching his own parents die was horrible to think about, even if they were criminals. You’ve never been close with your parents, but you couldn’t imagine losing them in that way. And now, this rookie is going to come into his first day on the job with people already knowing more than they should about him. Invading his privacy. You felt for him, you really did. If it was you, you wouldn’t want people gossiping about your traumatic past.

You push yourself off the table and go behind Chris, stroking your fingers lightly along the back of his neck until you see goosebumps. He slaps his hand over the spot you touched, whipping his head around while he shudders. Jill startles at his actions, asking him if he’s okay.

“I swear Jill, this station is haunted.” Jill laughs, loudly, at that.

“You believe in ghosts, Redfield?” Chris turns back to her and glares.

“Whatever.” He mumbles.

Their conversation before is forgotten, and you feel a sense of triumph. Your mind wanders back to the rookie and his story, or at least a little chunk of it. You decide, then and there, that you’re going to help make his time here a little easier.

—

He can’t stop fidgeting with his hands. His nerves are at an all-time high as he stares at the station in front of him. Pulling down the car mirror, he gives himself a look over. Splaying his hands over his hair, he flattens it into place, licking his fingers and then smoothing out his eyebrows after. Glancing down at his uniform, he rubs down the wrinkles, hoping to make them less noticeable as he didn’t have enough time to iron his shirt this morning. His hands catch on his name tag, reading ‘Leon S. Kennedy’.

Leon takes one deep breath, then another, before exiting his vehicle. He’s nervous, yes, but he’s also excited. Ever since the accident when he was a kid, he knew he wanted to do something good with his life. Prove every person that said he’d end up a criminal like his parents wrong. Growing up was difficult when everyone knew about your past, he didn’t want that here. He wanted – no, needed – a fresh start.

Someplace to prove himself.

He lets his excitement outweigh his anxiety as he treks up to the main door and walks right in. Immediately he’s met with a bustling precinct, officers are up and walking around, paying no mind to him. He takes this time to admire the precinct in all its glory. He had heard rumors that this building used to be an art museum, it’s evident it was. With the high ceilings that were decorated with pillars reaching up into them, along with intricate details in the crown molding. Looking further, he could see a statue holding a flag in between two staircases that led to the second floor. Everywhere he looked was a well thought out architectural design.

He shook himself out of his daze. He led himself to the main desk right in the middle of the main hall where a woman in uniform sat, flipping through a magazine while chewing some gum. He cleared his throat to get her attention, she didn’t move.

“Uh, excuse me?” Leon spoke up.

She sighed deeply before folding the corner of the page she was on, flitting her gaze up towards his face. “How may I help you?”

Leon shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m supposed to meet Lieutenant Branagh… My name is Leon Kennedy. It’s my first day here.”

She looked him up and down, blowing a bubble and popping it aggressively. “He’s in his office. Go up the ramp and take the first door on your left.”

She lifted her magazine back off the desk and continued to flip through it. “Okay…” Leon mumbled.

Her dismissive tone bothered him more than he’d care to admit. It’s his first day and he already has to deal with the attitude from his coworkers. Although, he doesn’t think he’ll be spending much time with her, considering they’re in completely different areas of work.

He followed the receptionist’s instructions and walked through to the office. His eyes were immediately drawn to the large banner, reading ‘Welcome Leon’, with some other star streamers attached to the ceiling. His bad mood from earlier seemed to disappear as he took in the decorations, a sense of warmth and comfort flooding through him. A smile stretches its way across his face as he walks down the steps. His footsteps alert another officer in the room of his presence.

“Can I help you with something?” A woman, maybe a couple years younger than Leon, asked.

“Uh, yeah, I’m looking for Marvin Branagh. I’m Leon Kennedy.” He answers, pointing a finger up at the banner.

“Oh! Welcome Leon! I’m so sorry, you’re early, we were going to have a whole thing when you came in.” She says, defeatedly. A pang of guilt washes over him. ‘How many things can go wrong on my first day?’ He thinks.

“Sorry…” He scratches the back of his neck, eyes darting away from her gaze.

“Don’t be, at least we know you’re reliable. I’m Rita Phillips.” She gives him a gentle smile that eases some of the guilt of ruining the surprise they had planned out. “Marvin went to grab some files on a case, he’ll be back soon. Until then, you can wait on that bench over there. When you’re done talkin’ with him, you can meet everyone else.” She gestures to the left.

“Thank you.” She nods at him and goes back to her desk.

He walks over to the bench, taking a seat and wringing his hands together. His nerves from earlier are mostly gone, now he just wants everyone to like him. Leon likes to think of himself as uncaring of how people think about him, unbothered. Or that’s what he wishes he was. All his life he’s been a people pleaser, wanting people to like him and want him around. He can’t help it.

He spent all his childhood being avoided like the plague because of who his parents were and that takes its toll on a child. Changes how he acts now that he’s all grown up. No one knew what to say to him when he was a kid, no one could find the right words. He was alone and that made him angry. He didn’t ask for his parents to be criminals, it’s just the parents he got stuck with. After he watched them die, everything went to shit for him; his grades, the miniscule friendships he did have, his reputation, his sanity. He got into some petty scandals, started going down the wrong path. He wasn’t a full-blown criminal yet, but he was headed there. The only reason he didn’t get to no-point-of-return was because of a police officer he met. That officer saved him, his future, his life. He led Leon to the right path, the one he was always meant to take. Leon hasn’t strayed from it since.

His attention is brought back to the present with the slam of a door. Leon did his research on the R.P.D before he got here so he knows the man that just walked in is Lieutenant Branagh. Leon shoots up from the bench as Branagh’s deep brown eyes meet his light blue ones. He walks over to Leon, stopping in front of him and switching the files he held in his right hand to his left.

“You must be the new rookie.” Branagh extends his free hand forward.

Leon grimaces slightly at the nickname before letting the emotion leave his face just as quick. Taking his hand, he shakes it, solid and firm. “Yeah, Leon Kennedy. It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

The Lieutenant gives an approving nod of his head, lips slightly upturned as he takes in the sight of his new officer. “Likewise. There won’t be much excitement for you today, this being your first day on the force.” He turns around and heads towards the desk closest to the stairs, Leon following right on his heels. “This is your desk.”

Branagh slaps his hand on the side of the desk. Leon takes a look at it, noticing that the cover for the desk is rolled down and locked by two padlocks on each side of it. He looks up at his Lieutenant, brows furrowed, confusion written all over his face. Branagh smirks.

“Your very first assignment rookie! Unlock your desk and awaiting you will be a list of files I need you to gather from the library. I’ll tell you what to do after that.” He nods his head one last time at Leon before making his leave to his own desk.

Leon scoffs quietly in disbelief. Unlock his desk? How? He bends down and takes a look at each padlock; they’re both lettered, not numbered. A small ‘psst’ is heard from his left and he looks to find Rita holding out a small paper for him. He takes it and she smiles, looking back down to her work. He unfolds the small page, reading the contents inside;

“Leon S. Kennedy, we’re putting you on a very special case for your first assignment.

Your mission is… to unlock your desk! The key to your success is in the initials of our first names. Input the letters in order of our desks. There are 2 locks - 1 on each side of your desk. Make sure you get them both.

Basically, your first task is to remember your fellow officers’ names, but you figured that much out, right?

Good luck, Leon.

By the way, it might take a little work to get Scott to give you a straight answer.

Lieutenant Branagh.”

Leon chuckled, finding amusement in this little game his superior thought out. All the things he was stressing about on his way here are completely forgotten now. He was slightly nervous that his Lieutenant would be a hardass, fearing that he’d be on his case his first day here. After meeting with him, Leon’s glad his anxieties were proved wrong. He tucks the paper in his shirt pocket and looks around him at the new people he will be spending all of his time here with. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, this is finally the place he will achieve his attempt at normalcy.

He didn’t know how wrong he was.

—

You were starting to get fed up with none other than Chris Redfield. He has an extraordinary talent at being the dumbest person you’ve ever known, well, that you’ve watched. You’ve been listening to him while he plans his stupid initiation — which is more like humiliation — with Jill. Every time he speaks your eyes roll further back into your head.

“You’ve had bad ideas before but none this bad.” Jill chastises. “This prank is not going to end well for a lot of people.”

“It’s not a prank, it’s an initiation. And it’s not that bad, you’re being dramatic…” Chris trails off when Jill glares at him. “You’re not being dramatic, that was the wrong word. How about… paranoid? Anyway, it’s not going to go terribly.”

“Yeah right.” You mumble. That was the biggest lie you’ve ever heard. This whole ‘initiation’ has the potential to completely derail into disaster.

Still sensing Jill’s apprehension, Chris continues; “I just want to see how well the new guy can take Wesker’s rage, it’ll be the perfect opportunity to see if he has the balls to work here. That’s all.”

‘That’s all’ he says, as if that’s not the perfect number one way to get this guy killed. You haven’t seen much of Captain Wesker, still making it your mission to avoid him, but you’ve heard all about him. Anyone who disobeys him or talks back gets reprimanded to an extreme degree. He doesn’t yell much, his anger is more controlled than that. It’s cold, calculated, he gives no warnings — if you do something wrong, it’s cause for immediate punishment to him.

Chris grinds Wesker's gears like no other though. They’re both hardheaded, stubborn, which causes them to butt-heads more often than not. Chris is the only officer in this station that has faced Wesker’s wrath and still continues to debate with him on the regular. You admire Chris’s ability to stand up for what he believes, even if his superior disagrees.

You envy it, even.

Most of your life was spent never saying what you really thought. Biting your tongue when it came to defending yourself or your morals. You were always so eager to follow the rules others had made for you, not wanting to stray too far from the good girl image you had given yourself.

It’s always been that way, even as a child. You were the star child that always behaved and listened to others. The teachers would sit the misbehaved boys next to your desk in class, hoping you would ‘keep them in line’ or ‘rub off on them’. All it did was make your school days unbearable. Constantly being the target of vile, degrading jokes or being messed with because they knew you would never say anything. Would never snitch.

It was torture. That was one of the things you didn’t have to deal with as a ghost. It was lonely, yes, but free from restrictions. You could say what you want, do what you want and no one would bat an eye because they can’t see you. You’d never known how good it would feel to do as you please. How freeing it truly is. Your heart clenches at the realization of this now, after you’ve already died and lived your short life. You wanted to curse whatever higher power there was for this cruel joke.

Of course you would finally find yourself only after you’ve died.

You shake your head at the thoughts before you can get too emotional. There’s nothing you can do about it anyway.

“He’s here!” Chris whisper-shouts.

Jill looks at him with an amused smile on her face, “You don’t need to whisper, he’s a whole floor away from us.”

“...Right.”

You chuckle softly. Chris can be hard to be around sometimes but he’s got this way of making everyone love him. Even when he’s being stupid. Like now.

“Let’s go greet him.” He smirks and Jill’s soft demeanor from before drops.

“Don’t do this today Chris. Let the kid have a day to settle in before you ruin his life.”

Chris scoffs, “But we-”

“No.”

Jill looks at him pointedly, waiting for him to say anything in defiance of her order. He opens and closes his mouth like a fish before snapping it shut altogether. She grins in victory and stands from her seat. “Let’s go meet him.” She holds her hand out and Chris takes hold of it, pulling himself out of his seat and walks out of the S.T.A.R.S office with her.

You trail behind, not wanting to miss getting to meet the new rookie yourself. After winding through corridors and staircases you all finally make it to the main hall, walking over to the receptionist's desk where Alice works. You’ve been around her a few times but never stayed for long, being around her is like being around the mean kids in highschool. With her constantly chewing gum and looking at everyone that talks to her like they’ve personally offended her somehow, looking at people up and down like she’s better than them.

Even though she quite literally only does one thing in this damn station and it’s to direct people that come in to officers that can actually help them. Why they ever put her in charge of talking with people, you will never know. Chris’s pace slows the closer we get, as well as Jill’s.

“Rock, paper, scissors?” Jill suggests.

“Yup.”

They both get into position and start up the game. On ‘scissors’, Chris throws rock and Jill throws paper. She mutters a quiet ‘Yes!’ and pumps her fist in the air at the same time as Chris curses and hangs his head in defeat.

He holds his hands back out, “Best two out of three?” Jill rolls her eyes and pushes him away from her. He reluctantly drags his feet to Alice, stopping right in front of her and clears his throat.

Alice looks up and an emotion you’ve never seen before flashes across her face, “Chris! Oh my god I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you, where have you been?” She beams at him and realization dawns on you.

Alice totally likes Chris.

He laughs nervously, “I’ve been here, you must’ve just not seen me. Anyway, we’re looking for the new rookie, any chance you know where he is?”

“I’ll tell ya but it’ll cost you.” She purrs, leaning forward over the desk and brushes her fingers over his arm.

Jill covers her mouth, stifling a laugh. Your amused eyes look over at Chris where he sports a grimace and raises a hand to scratch a spot on the back of his neck, a nervous habit you know he has. Alice bats her eyes expectantly and Chris shifts. “Uh, you know we can just find him ourselves, thanks.”

He scurries away as Alice’s expression drops into one of shock. You snort and follow Chris and Jill’s snickering figures. “It’s not funny, Jill.”

“It’s a little funny.”

You stay behind them and watch as they walk in sync, hands nearly brushing against each other as they continue to talk and laugh with one another. It makes your chest tight. Before you died, you didn’t have much luck with romantic relationships with people. It’s not that you didn’t want it, you did. But you decided to stay focused on school, you always told yourself that when the time was right, you’d put yourself out there. You were in your third year of college when you died, still waiting to put yourself out there. It’s another regret you can’t help but have now that your life is gone.

You wanted to have a deep connection with someone; wanted to know all their little quirks, their tells, any small detail that would seem insignificant to a passerby but would mean everything to you. That’s what Jill and Chris have, even if they don’t see it. It makes you want to scream at them, tell them to just go for it because life is short and you never know when it’ll come to an abrupt end.

Your thoughts come to a stop when you accidentally run right into - well, through - Chris. His whole body shudders and he’s looking right into Jill’s eyes, exclaiming “Did you feel that?!” She brushes him off and opens the door into the library, walking over to the file archive section. You didn’t even realize they had found out where the rookie was, too lost in thought to notice.

You spot a blonde haired man sitting on the library floor with files spread all around him at the same time Jill does. She and Chris make their way over to him, their shadows encasing over his body. Leon looks up at the sudden loss of light.

“Hey, you’re the new guy right? I’m Jill Valentine and this is my partner Chris Redfield. We’re a part of the S.T.A.R.S unit.” She gives him a friendly smile.

He pushes himself up off the floor, meeting their gazes in equal now. “I’m Leon Kennedy, it’s nice to meet you both.” He extends his hand and Jill shakes it first, Chris follows.

You hover behind them, watching the interaction. You take this time to admire the rookie — Leon. He’s probably the prettiest cop here, if you’re being honest with yourself. With beautiful blonde hair, cut short but still has some bangs flowing over his face, with baby blue eyes and a defined jawline. You step closer to him, wanting to get a better look at his features, when his eyes flit to your face before hastily retreating back to Jill. Your body stills.

Did he just look at you? No way. No one can see you… or you thought they couldn’t.

He continues talking with Jill and you’re convinced you imagined it. But what if you didn’t? You decide to test your theory, if he really can’t see you then there’s no embarrassment for trying, and if he does — well you might just be the happiest woman alive. So to speak.

You squint your eyes and slink closer to him until you’re standing right in front of Jill, blocking his line of sight. He shifts from one foot to the other, nervously twiddling his fingers and craning his head slightly to the right. Your eyes widen. “You can see me!” No response.

You huff, “I know you can see me because you wouldn’t have moved your head to see Jill if you couldn’t.”

His eyes meet yours and you beam in victory. Jill’s brows furrow, “Are you alright?”

Leon snaps his eyes back to hers. “Y-Yeah, sorry. I just want to finish up here and get these files to Branagh. I want to make a good first impression, you know?” He laughs, but it sounds forced.

“Gotcha. Well, we’ll catch you around.” Jill turns to leave but Chris stays.

“See you tomorrow, rookie.” He smirks before following Jill out of the library and you roll your eyes.

You turn back to Leon, who glances around anxiously before his eyes settle back on you. You try not to shudder, not used to having someone acknowledge you for the past three months. “If I were you, I wouldn’t talk to Chris at all tomorrow.”

He squints at you, “Why?”

You almost jump in excitement at the fact that he’s responding to you. “Because he’s been planning this stupid initiation that’s most definitely going to ruin years of your time here.”

He scoffs and turns back to the files on the ground. “That’s great. I haven’t even known the guy for more than two minutes and he already hates me.”

You frown, “He doesn’t. That’s just how he is, he’s really childish and in his mind this is how you get his stamp of approval.” Leon turns back to you with files in hand.

“Thanks for the warning.” He walks away, leaving you gaping with a shocked expression. You quickly gather yourself and run up to him.

“Uh, so you can see me and you’re just going to walk away?”

His eyes don’t move from the spot in front of him, “Yup.”

“No, no, I don’t think so. I’ve been in this precinct for months — months — and no one has been able to see or hear me. I’m losing my mind, you have to talk to me.” You plead.

This is just your luck. The only person in this whole precinct who can see you is trying to ignore you.

“No, I don’t actually, because you’re a ghost and normal people don’t talk to ghosts.” Another officer looks at him wearily and Leon smiles and nods his head before turning to a more secluded area in the library. “Look, I came here to get away from not-normal shit and that includes you. So I’m sorry that you’re dead or whatever but you need to find someone else to bother.”

Twice in the past five minutes this man has managed to leave you speechless. You’re not for long though as the shock simmers into anger. “You’re an asshole, has anyone ever told you that?” You snap.

He falters for a second before regaining his composure. “Look, I’m sorry but whatever you want from me, I can’t give to you.”

“I just want someone to see me.” It’s so quiet coming out of your mouth Leon barely hears it at first.

His expression softens and he pauses for a moment. His head bows and he blows out a long sigh, “Okay.”

“Okay?” You question, dumbfounded by his lack of an answer.

“Okay. I see you. I won’t pretend I don’t.”

Your heart flutters and if you could blush, you’d definitely be doing it right now.

“But I have to work and you can’t talk to me when I’m around other people. They’ll think I’m crazy if I’m talking to nothing but air.” You nod eagerly, just happy that he decided to not pretend you don’t exist.

—

That’s how it is for the rest of the day; you follow him, talk to him (though he can’t answer, just gives brief nods of acknowledgement), and sometimes accidentally walk into him; which he doesn’t appreciate as it feels weird. Even though he has to pretend you’re not there around others, the knowledge that he does see you is the greatest comfort you’ve felt in the last three months. So you continue to babble on about anything and everything, ranging from things some officers here do when they think no one is watching, to information on what he can do to get on people's good sides here, to things about yourself. Also just gossip.

That’s what you’re telling him now, “And Alice, the receptionist, I just found out today that she has a crush on Chris Redfield. That S.T.A.R.S member you met earlier today.”

“How would you know that?” He says openly now that he’s on his lunch break, away from people.

“Because anyone that ever comes up to her gets looks of disgust and dismissive behavior, but not Chris. No, he gets full on heart eyes and her full attention.” You wave your hands around for emphasis, one of your hands disappearing through the table before coming back up.

“Does he like her back?”

You shake your head, “No, he’s only got eyes for Jill.”

“His partner?” He stops eating, this newfound information peaking his interest.

“Uh-huh. She likes him too. I’ve just been waiting for one of them to admit it but neither of them will. It’s frustrating to watch.” You sigh out. Your eyes squint as the cogs in your brain turn, then you raise your hand and point a finger at Leon.

“You!”

He places his pointer finger on his chest, “Me?”

“You can totally help me set them up! I mean, I could never do anything because they can’t see me but you can. I can be the mastermind who makes the plans and you can execute them.” You’re practically buzzing in excitement at the idea of finally seeing Chris and Jill together.

“No. No way, that’s not happening.”

“Way. C’mon Leon! This’ll not only be fun but once they’re together, you can boast about how you’re the one who made it happen. They’ll forever be in your debt.”

“Or they’ll date for a while and have a terrible breakup and hate me forever.”

You frown. “Pessimistic much?” He rolls his eyes but you continue, “They’re already in love with one another, they just don’t believe that the other does.”

He laughs. “And you know that because they told you?”

You deadpan at him, “I know that because I’m not blind. I’ve been watching them everyday for the past three months, they belong together. Don’t you believe in that stuff?”

“What, true love? Not really, no.” His brows drop and his eyes hold something that you’re well familiar with; sadness.

You stare at him for another moment before clearing your throat. “Well, I do and they’re meant for one another. So you’ll help me.”

His eyes shift from sadness to amusement. “And why would I do that?”

You smirk, “Because without me you’ll never know what Chris has planned.”

The hand that was holding his fork faltered and his eyes met yours in a glare. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

“Of course it is. You get information from me and I get to see an overdue relationship blossom from you. Seems fair to me.”

He seems to consider it for a moment before shaking his head side to side. “I’ll take my chances.” You deflate but don’t push him, knowing that after what will happen tomorrow, he’ll be begging for your insight on future ‘Chris Pranks’.

“Suit yourself.” You shrug, a small, mischievous smile gracing your lips. He narrows his eyes at you but leaves it be nonetheless.

—

Time seems to fly by and before you know it, Leon’s packing up to go home. He’s in front of his locker, taking out his bag and car keys, then turns around to face your solemn expression.

He sighs, “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

You release your bottom lip from your teeth, “I know. I just — I don’t sleep. So, I'm always by myself at night. I hate it.”

“You know, I’ve never met a ghost who can’t leave a building.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, they usually linger around where they died but they’re not stuck.”

You puff out air through your nose. “Great! So I’m a mystery, even to ghost boy.”

He laughs, “Ghost boy?”

You wave your hand dismissively. “So, you mean other ghosts can like… go to Paris if they wanted to?”

He thinks for a moment before answering, “I guess they can? Like I said, they linger where they died. Most ghosts move on before they even think about traveling too far.”

“Move on? I can do that?”

“Of course you can. Ghosts that don’t move on become…” He pauses, like he doesn’t want to continue.

“C’mon, they become what?” You laugh nervously, a habit in stressful situations that you haven’t shook off, even in death.

“Aggressive. The longer you linger in this world as a ghost, the more you lose yourself. I’ve seen it happen.” He glances at you warily.

“How long do you have to be here until that starts?” You’ve been here for three months, that’s not that long, right?

“Usually the time ranges between six-to-twelve months. But look, I’m sure you’ll be able to move on by then.”

You turn away from him. It was bad enough that you have been stuck here with no idea of what happened to you, but now you have a time limit?

Leon says your name quietly, “You won’t get to that point, okay? I won’t let you.” His fingers ghost over your arm, dipping softly into you, your image spreads like mist around his fingertips.

You turn back to him, appreciative at the attempt of comfort. “You aren’t obligated to help me, Leon. This is my problem, not yours.”

He smiles. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.”

“Really? Because earlier you basically told me to piss off.”

“But that was before I got to know how lovely you are.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, rookie.”

He chuckles, “No one is immune to my charm.”

You roll your eyes. “Your game is bad, that’ll be another thing I’ll help you with.”

He feigns offense, “My game? Bad? Impossible.”

He closes his locker door shut and you walk with him to the exit of the building. He looks around for any lingering ears and turns back to you when he spots none.

“You’ll be okay?” He murmurs, still hesitant to talk to you out in the open.

You put on your best brave face. “Yeah, of course. See you tomorrow.”

He softly smiles at you before turning on his heel and walking out of the precinct. You watch him as he gets in his car and pulls out of the parking lot, down the road until you can’t see him anymore. You stay there for a few more moments before taking a deep breath and looking around at the now Leon-less precinct.

Tomorrow.

#voidconversations #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil fandom #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil x reader #resident evil 2 remake #resident evil leon #resident evil 2 #chris redfield #jill valentine #albert wesker #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fanfic

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respectthepetty · 4 months

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Pit Babe Colors Ep. 8

I'm challenging myself with this show and seeing how good my color skills really are, so I'm doing my normal thing of watching it double-speed on mute, but now, the captions are off also. It's just colors and vibes here. Also, I know way more than I intended because of comments and reblogs on previous posts, so I'm in the know now.

Kim looking at Kenta's face right before the elevator closed is the only thing keeping me from losing it. If Kentana doesn't save Kimberly, what is the point of this?! What is the point of Kentana?!

Are y'all a couple now? Y'all are starting to color and outfit coordinate, and it feels very gay.

I don't know what to do with these two.

I'm pretty sure I'm just not seeing pink on Pete, which means he has connections to the red, and Way refuses to stay blue, so I'm sure he is still planning some corrupt red nonsense.

JUST BE BLUE! Just be in love with each other. Accept his love, Waymond!

I never thought I'd write this, but be like Jeffrey, Waymond. Turn blue. Commit to the blue. Fall in love!

Look at him! No matter what connection he has to the red, he is beating the allegations. Peter is a GOOD MAN! If Waymond doesn't fall in love with him, somebody else will. Guaranteed.

Not going to read too much into that red stripe at the top of the room, but this is a red's room. Is this Kimberly's?! Why is there so much blood?!

When you take people's superpowers, yet have no idea how to use the superpowers. Apparently, Babe without superpowers is still better than everyone else. At least Charles is no longer a lying blue.

I think Big Red knows something is different with Babe, and even though Jeffrey still has that damn red bag . . . IS THAT WAYMOND?! No, Waymond, no! Do NOT work with Big Red. You have Peter RIGHT THERE! Quit your bullshit, Waymond!

WTF, Kentana?! If I have to pick between you two, I pick Peter. No contest. Kimberly, Peter, and Alan above everyone else. Kentana, you better stop it! You are still on my shit list!

Hold up! Do you two know each other? Like biblically? What is this tension? What are these looks? Why does this feel very personal? I ain't mad at it, but Kentana still needs to save Kimberly!

Jeffrey, why would you go there in that red and blue flannel shirt?! That won't save you, buddy!

Kentana, the ONLY thing that will redeem you is saving Kimberly. I didn't like Jeffrey, but now he is matching with Alan, so they are in love, and you can't break Alan's heart! You are just fucking up left and right today, and I hope you get punched in the throat before this episode is over.

KIMBERLY IS DYING! And y'all are about to have sex in the blue after tending wounds which is pointless because you have superpowers that will heal you!!!!!! Y'all continue to amaze me by the lack of priorities. Save Kim Possible!

Why is this shot in the mirror? Why is there a barrier between you two? This is odd. More lies?

Who takes a shot like that?! A KILLER! Barbara, get it together! This isn't an episode of Dead Friend Forever, and you are no longer a red.

Everything about this scene is ridiculous. Charles in blue. SONIC in blue. North and Waymond in black. AND EVERYONE IS DRINKING RED SODA! This not looking good for the blues. Whatever they are talking about, the reds already won.

Barbara continues to be touchy-feely with Waymond. Why can't he just let Waymond brood in peace? Barbara knows Waymond loves him, yet gives Waymond no space. Go tend to your boyfriend's fake injuries, Barbara! Waymond is working with Big Red and not falling in love with Peter, yet you have me feeling bad for him, Barbara. I should hate Waymond! BUT I CAN'T BECAUSE YOU WON'T LEAVE HIM BE!

These two have to be sleeping together. Cooking Crush had the Chicken Bite product placement too and Prem and Ten definitely want each other in that show, so North and Sonic have to want each other too, yes? Yes. Now why are they watching Whiny Winifred while flirting IN THE BLUE?! They finally are both wearing blue at the same time. Thank, Baby Jesus.

I was worried seeing Waymond in the red doorway, but he has Charles and Barbara. But they aren't saving Kimberly. Why does nobody care about Kimberly?!

The kid is blue. Is he the insider informant? He is a child!

Why are there so many red kids in the world? Big Red, why do you need an army?! Overthrow your shitty kidnappers with your superpowers, kids! REVOLT! Sí se puede

KIMBERLY!

North and Sonic are going to save Kimberly! They are finally in the blue and saving my favorite red! I never doubted them!

WHAT THE FUCK?! THEY DIDN'T SAVE KIMBERLY?!

Southwest Airlines and Vegas' Hedgehog did NOT save Kimberly! Kentana watched as Kimberly got taken, then had the audacity to have chemistry with Peter. Jeffrey walked right into the reds like that was gonna save him instead of saving Kimberly! Whiny Winifred kicked Kimberly. Waymond is working with Big Red and not saving Kimberly. Charles and Barbara CANNOT prioritize and are talking to a blue kid and giggling at each other instead of rescuing Kimberly.

AND BARBARA IS FIGHTING PETER NEXT WEEK!

These men need to get their shit together! The ONLY things that needed to happened this episode were 1) SAVE KIMBERLY and 2) ACCEPT PETER'S LOVE! Neither happened. Honestly, Kentana and Waymond could die and leave Kimberly and Peter to be the power couple of Alan's company. They both wear too much black, and unlike Barbara, they aren't the title character, so either commit to the blue Waymond or Kentana, or else I'm gonna start thinking y'all are disposable.

#SAVE KIMBERLY #pit babe #pit babe the series #the colors mean things #and they will guide me the whole way through #color coded boys in love #episode 8 #I'm so upset #all I care about right now is Kimberly!#SAVE HIM!#And quit fighting Peter‚ Barbara!

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epickiya722 · 10 months

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Being in a fandom, like BNHA (most active there) has taught me some things...

It doesn't matter if a person shares the same favorite ships and characters as you, if they annoy you, they annoy you. Block them.

Ship wars are a total waste of time. They're pointless. If someone feels that their ship is better, let them. Don't waste your time arguing about it.

It's a shock when a fairly popular character isn't your favorite.

Rare pairs deserve more love. They're fun, and if you like one, don't be shy about it. You might get others to join you.

On that note, there are some ships though that should never have been thought about, but given if the fandom is a huge one, at least two people have thought about it.

There will always be bad takes about the protagonist (and other characters). It may be surprising to you, but there are people with very off-the-damn-wall takes. Ignore them and move on.

It's illegal for some characters to be mean apparently.

There will be assholes outside the fandom who jump on the bandwagon of hating the material without ever engaging with it and only possibly ever met two people within that fandom. Block and ignore.

Expect people to take what you say and twist it around to make you look like the asshole. There's going to be at least one person who just wants to debate with you because they're bored maybe.

There are people who use "KYS" without thought. No regard for how you may be feeling at that time. They're an ass.

There are people who haven't finished the source material and think they're right. Don't spend your time arguing with them. Block them and move on.

Your mutuals may be mutuals with someone else you don't like. That's fine.

People forgot that opinions and facts are totally different. People will choose what they think and feel is canon just to shape the narrative into what they want. Ignore and block.

Okay, the block button is your best friend.

No matter how you tag a fic, there's gonna be one person who will take it out on you. You put the ship tags, they ignored them and want to be an ass.

Shipping is very popular. So if you mostly write friendships (and rare pairs), there's a chance you won't get as much feedback on a fic (or art) if you wrote a fic with a ship (especially a popular one).

On that note, you might get someone who will try to make the pairing you wrote/drew as platonic into something romantic. You have every right to be upset if it does upset you. Especially, if it was clear that you wrote it as platonic. Not everything needs to be romantic and some people needs to grasp that idea.

Take breaks for you! Take those breaks!! Take them!! And don't feel guilty about it! Take care of yourself!!

If you disagree with someone's opinion, that is fine. But do not reblog or comment under their post because you never know what kind of person that is. Write your own post if you feel the need.

That's so far what comes to mind about what I have learned. This applies to any fandom.

#just kiya's thoughts #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #fandom

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shawtuzi · 2 years

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heyy idk if you do requests but if you do, can you PLEASE do plug!eren or plug!connie actually using or aiming his glock at someone 😩 n y/n gets so turned on

hello bb the answer to both your questions is yes!!! requests are always open but i might take a while to get to them <\3 btw idk why i make jean the villain in almost every eren fic i write i literally love him sm

this is 18+///cw include: black coded reader, drug usage, slight possessiveness, MAJOR GUN KINK, kinda cervix fucking, more bad writing

it was very rare for eren to use his glock ever. yes he was a dealer but he tried to keep the violence of that lifestyle out of his and your lives. your safety was his top priority and he’d be damned if you got hurt because of something that had to do with him, but of course the one time he had to use it you were with him witnessing everything.

everything was going perfect. the two of you were walking back from the park blazed and full from the sandwiches and other snacks you packed for your picnic. eren had his arm wrapped around your shoulders while yours was wrapped around his waist, your other hand swinging the small wicker basket you used to carry the food back and forth.

“aye eren!” you heard someone yell instantly feeling eren tense up. you looked to the side but eren kept you straight picking up his walking pace, “just keep walking” he spoke in a hushed tone pulling your body incredibly close to his. “what you ignoring me now jaeger? what’s the rush to get home?” you heard the person yell once again and now you were beginning to worry.

you’d never seen eren be so skittish before and it made the uneasy feeling in your stomach grow bigger by the second, increasing tenfold when you realized these people had no intentions of leaving you alone. “what do you want jean?” eren spoke in a monotone voice never once looking over or stopping his fast face. you nearly tripped over you feet when you heard eren say the persons name. eren was a very unproblematic man never being the one to entertain pointless arguments, but there was something about jean that made eren want to pop a cap in his every time he heard his voice.

“heard you were talking a lot a shit, there something you need to say to my face playboy?” eren could’ve easily handled this by pulling him out the car and beat his ass but he held himself back, fearing that this side you’ve never seen of him would be too much to handle. eren made a vow to himself one night after the two of you smoked —still friends and still getting acquainted— that he would never involve you in this life. the thought of any of the sketchy weirdos he’s met making you uncomfortable makes him homicidal to say the least.

“nothing that i already haven’t said to your face playboy now if you don’t mind i’m busy,” your heart was now beating incredibly fast and your mind was racing a mile a minute you hadn’t even noticed the bruising grip eren now had on your arm. jean kissed his teeth looking you up and down, “oh i see…this your bitch here? why don’t you send her my way when you’re done i like em’ thick too.” eren stopped dead in this tracks whipping your body behind him as he turned toward jeans car and that’s when you felt it. the glock 43 you thought he usually kept in his glove box or safe tucked behind his back.

“fuck did you say?” eren asked his voice dropping two octaves. at this point all he could see was red. it was one thing to roll up on a man and his woman but it was a whole other thing to lust after her and call her a bitch right in front of his face.

“i said send your bitch my way when you’re done.”

it all happened so fast. one minute to you holding onto eren for dear life, the next you were pushed away eren now holding the glock right in jeans face. it was a clean shot right between the eyes. now of course eren knew better knowing jean wasn’t even worth the murder charge, but jean didn’t know that. “woah woah- hey i was just playin’ eren!” the smirk jean was once sporting now gone and replaced with a look of pure fear. “i tried giving you a chance to leave but you never know when to quit to do you?” eren chuckled dryly his index finger resting lightly on the trigger.

jean didn’t even get a chance to respond before eren told him to get the fuck on leaving an obnoxious tire screech behind him. the ringing in his ears had stopped his attention now solely focused on making sure you were okay. eren tucked the glock away once more turning to you, “i’m sorry i did that he just gets on my nerves so fucking bad and then him calling you a bitch just-“ he was cut off by you bringing him in for a soul searing kiss. “it’s okay eren really, thank you for sticking up for me” you gave him another kiss lightly sucking on his bottom lip.

eren chuckled grabbing you lightly by your jaw, “don’t tell me that shit got you in the mood” he asked in a teasing tone running his thumb over your lips. “maybe just a little” you giggled pressing a small kiss to his thumb before taking it into your mouth lightly sucking. “oh really? let’s get you home then i’ll take care of you ma.”

not even 20 minutes later eren had you bent over on the couch in his apartment moaning and whining like a bitch in heat. “erennn” you whimpered bringing a hand back to push against his pelvis but eren just smacked your hand away with his free hand while the other held blunt. after the jean situation eren needed to regroup and what better way to do that than pussy and a blunt???

he glanced at the glock that sat on the coffee table a sadistic smirk gracing his kiss swollen lips. eren grabbed you by your throat pushing your body flush against his chest, “hold this for me will you?” he asked setting the blunt between your lips. suddenly you felt something hard and cold press against the side of your head and you immediately knew what it was. “oh shit you like that huh? felt you get real tight around me,” he grunted snatching the blunt from your trembling lips. “y-yes i love it” you sighed dreamily moving your hips to meet his shallow thrusts.

eren set the blunt in a nearby ashtray before wrapping his hand around your throat while the hand holding the glock pressed it harder against your head. “god what do you think people would say if they found out you get turned on watching me threaten people with this? or how you’re on the verge of cumming just from me holding it to your fucking head huh?” you didn’t even have an answer to his question not because you were too embarrassed to answer, but because the combination of his tip brushing against your cervix, the glock against your head, and his rough grip on your neck left you a brainless drooling mess.

you were slightly brought back into reality when you felt the cool metal of the glock press against your lips, immediately opening your mouth to let him slide it in. “i know how much you like when i do this so go ‘head baby suck it like it’s my dick,” eren chuckled darkly nibbling on the lobe of your ear. your knees were becoming terribly weak and if it wasn’t for eren holding you up by your neck you would’ve fallen fast first into the couch cushions.

four orgasms later eren had finally let up giving you a break before he started the next round. he was now on his back while you sat on his dick, a blunt being passed between the two of you. “suck it one more time f’me wanna get this shit on camera,” he giggled taking a hit of the blunt while his other hand held his phone. “okay okay since you asked so nicely,” you happily grabbed the glock once more licking it from the bottom of the barrel to the top suckling on the tip of it like you would his cock.

eren zoomed in on the way your plush lips sucked on the glock, swirling your tongue around it extra slowly making his dick twitch. you let go of the barrel with a lewd pop noise before setting it aside once more a bashful smile making its way onto your face.

“man i fucking love you y/n.”

#eren <3 #plug!eren #eren smut #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger smut #aot smut #aot imagines #attack on titan smut #eren yeager #snk eren #snk smut #eren yeager imagines #eren jaeger imagines #my writing

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 3 months

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Never Say Never

Chapter 10

Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader

Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.

No posting schedule.

18+ only for eventual smut

Word Count: 9.3K

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

“Wow,” Robin breathed, her eyes so wide Steve feared they would pop out of her head, her spoon of cereal paused in front of the perfect circle her mouth was currently making. “That good, huh?”

“Better than good. I don’t…shit, I don’t even know how to describe it,” Steve replied, arms dropping to the table. “I’ve…Robin, I have never felt anything like that before. It was incredible and so damn intense. I don’t…I don’t know if I can have any self-control now that I know what kissing her feels like and I have to have self-control with her. That kiss is all I’ve been able to think about. It’s all I want to do. I had to stop myself from driving to her work today just to see her and touch her again. I think I might be losing my mind.”

Everything about last night had been perfect. From the food to the conversation to the girl. He knew he liked you. He knew he liked you a lot. He’d known he wanted to kiss you from the moment he’d laid eyes on you but nothing could have prepared him for what it was actually like. The moment his lips touched yours it was like sticking his finger in an electrical socket. You consumed him. It felt like you were everywhere at once, completely overwhelming every one of his senses until you were all that existed.

Steve was not new to kissing. In fact his track record was probably far higher than most but he’d never had a kiss like that. That kiss made all other kisses seem pointless. Why would he ever waste his lips on anything that wasn’t as amazing as that? And now all he could think about was your lips and your skin and how much more he wanted to explore. He was completely done for and that was scary as hell.

Robin giggled, her spoon clinking as she dropped it into the bowl, “Oh, my sweet summer child, you have got it so bad.”

“I know! What do I do?” he pleaded desperately.

The blond shrugged, her foot coming up to rest on the seat of the chair, arm wrapping around her leg, “Why would you want to do anything? Go with it. Savor it. Enjoy the hell out of it. Kiss that woman silly.”

“Robs, this isn’t funny.”

“I’m not saying it’s funny. Steve, it’s amazing. I’ve never seen you so over the moon. I mean, yeah, you fall hard and fast but it’s all just a show. I’ve never seen you this lovestruck, my friend. You give new meaning to the term stars in his eyes.”

“But I told her it was no pressure. I said it wouldn’t be a big deal if it didn’t work out and now it feels like a very big deal! How am I supposed to go back to the way things were now that I know how goddamn good she feels?”

Blue eyes widened as she leaned forward, “Whoa. How good she feels? I thought all you did was kiss.”

“That is all we did!” he huffed. “But I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about how so many other things would feel with her. But that’s a huge step, right? I mean, if I sleep with her then there is definitely no going back. It would be too awkward. And then what about the boys? I will shatter Jere’s heart when I tell him Eli’s mom and I can’t be around each other anymore. And what about…”

“Whoa! Hold your horses there cowboy. You’re getting just a bit ahead of yourself, don’t you think? Why are you already planning on all of this going south? Obviously, you two had an amazing time together and a kiss that could launch a thousand ships or some shit. Why would you think this isn’t going to be something?”

“Because it’s me!”

“And?”

“And I can’t ever make anything work. I am King Steve alright, the king of failed relationships.”

“Or…and hear me out, you’ve only had failed relationships because you’ve picked the wrong girls. She doesn’t sound like the wrong girl. I mean, honestly, did you ever have a kiss with Nance that made you feel like that?”

“No, but you know me. I’m going to push too hard, too fast, and she’s going to get freaked out and run. Look at me. Already I want to race over and see her even though I am seeing her tomorrow. Hell, I wanted to turn around and drive back to kiss her senseless all over again the moment I pulled away. I’m going to do it, Robin. I’m going to be too much. I can already feel it.”

“Okay,” shrugged Robin. Inhaling, she dropped her leg to the floor, arms crossing on top of the table. “Say you do what you do and you’re really needy and smothering and make it so she feels like she can’t breathe. Steve, we’re talking about a girl who lost her husband, a girl who has been alone for two years, a girl who hasn’t had anyone to care for her. Do you think she’ll find it smothering or do you think she’ll find it refreshing? Maybe she doesn’t even like breathing. Maybe what she wants is a Steve sized pillow right over her mouth and…” She cringed, lips puckering. “Okay, eww. I am realizing how that sounds but you know what I mean. Hell, maybe she does want that too.”

“But what if…”

“What if? What if? What if the Earth implodes tomorrow or aliens finally make themselves known and attack us all? Steve, you could go through the what ifs all damn day if you want but we both know all you’re really doing is grasping at shit because you’re scared.”

“Scared?” he scoffed, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “I’m not scared. I just don’t want to make an ass of myself.”

“No. You’re scared. Terrified with a capital ‘T’ because King Steve has had a ton of relationships, more than is actually acceptable for the common person if we’re being honest. But what you’ve never had is anything real and that scares the shit out of you. Because if it’s real then that means there’s very real potential for losing it. But you have to stop focusing on what could happen and start focusing on what is happening right now. Because from what I’m hearing, she is just as deep into this as you are. It doesn’t sound like she was trying to stop the kiss which tells me she wants it. So just go with it. Go with the moment, with what you feel because yeah, it could all go to shit in a month. But it could also be your happy ending, Steve and you have to stop thinking you don’t deserve it or that it’s not possible for you because you, my friend, are worthy of all that shit they write about in romance novels.”

He was scared. He was scared shitless because there were a million and one ways he could manage to royally fuck this whole thing up. He was the king of fuck-ups when it came to relationships. And you were the first one that felt like it was something, something more than just a companion, something more than just someone he wanted around so he didn’t have to be alone.

“Hey Steve!” came Dustin’s voice, the front door banging against the wall, making Steve swear because how many times had he told that kid not to do that? He’d already patched that spot twice because of him. “You got anything for breakfast? I’m all out of Cinnamon Toa…” He paused in the doorway when he took in the sight of Steve and Robin at the table. “Sorry. This looks serious.” His face lit up, finger pointing at Robin’s bowl. “Sweet. Exactly what I needed.” Pulling the bowl over, he dropped down between the two of them.

“By all means,” Robin snapped. “I wasn’t eating that or anything.”

“Don’t you have your own house with your own food?” Steve sighed.

“Well, yes I do,” replied Dustin, scooping milk and cereal into his mouth, “but I am all out of cereal.”

“You know, there’s this place that all your breakfast needs. It’s called the grocery store.”

“Yeah, but you’re only a block away. Why would I drive all the way to the store when I can just come over here where there’s always food?”

“Because it’s my food,” argued Steve, jabbing his pointer finger repeatedly into the table. “It’s my food that I buy for me and my son to eat and it’s my house and it’s my table and it’s my bowl and spoon.”

“Damn. Someone’s grouchy today.” Dustin rolled his eyes toward Robin. “What’s up his butt?”

“Hot widow.”

“Impressive. That’s quite a leap from barely being able to tell her you like her.”

“Come on, man.” Steve wadded up a napkin, throwing it at his face. “I told you not to talk about my sex life.”

“So there is a sex life to talk about?”

Robin sniggered, “Based on how last night went there will be shortly.”

“Ohh!” Full teeth on display, he wiggled his eyebrows at Steve. “Do tell. More than dinner was enjoyed last night? Maybe a little late night dessert? A little something sweet after the meal? A little…”

“No. Absolutely not. I am not talking about this with a child,” Steve snorted, arms flailing in the air as he rose from the table. Grabbing onto the bowl that had been Robin’s before Dustin had stolen it, he walked it over to the sink, rinsing the remains of cereal and milk into the garbage disposal.

“Dude, I was still eating that! And I am not a child,” protested Dustin. “I am twenty-six! I have not been a child for eight years.”

Robin ruffled his hair. “You’ll always be itty bitty Dusty-Bun to us.”

“Knock it off. Jesus, seriously, you two have got to realize I am a man now. I am not unknown to the ways of carnal enjoyments. You’re not going to tell me anything I don’t already know. Seriously, did you and her hook up?”

“No! We just kissed, okay?”

Steve spun, leaning against the sink, fingers wrapping around the edge. He glanced over at the clock. Normally he would be leaving now to pick up Jeremiah from school to start his few days with him but Nancy would be getting him today. She was keeping him for the night because it was her dad’s birthday and they were all going out to dinner.

He had a whole evening ahead of him with nothing to occupy his thoughts and that was dangerous. Because his thoughts could lead him right to your doorstep. He hadn’t been exaggerating. Twice he’d had to convince himself that it would be ridiculous for him to show up when you had plans to see each other Thursday. Twice he’d been ready to turn his car right instead of left simply because he wanted to see your face. But his fear of doing what he always did, getting clingy, stopped him.

Steve had always been clingy in relationships. He had this neurotic need to feel important, to feel needed, to feel wanted. Robin told him his lack of parental love as a child left him constantly seeking it out in others. It was annoying how well she could read him but it didn’t make her wrong. And this time was so much worse. The intensity of his feelings was magnified by a hundred and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to be the pillow that smothered this relationship before it even began.

“It didn’t sound like just any old kiss to me,” Robin mused, opening the refrigerator to pull out a can of Dr. Pepper, something he only kept in the house because she drank it and she was always there. “It sounded like the kind of kiss that leads to all of the other dirty, delicious things.” Lifting her eyebrows, she nodded toward Dustin. “They were pawing at each other like a couple of horny teenagers in that car.”

“Steve! How very…junior year Steve of you. Which, I mean, that Steve was a douche but in this case, I approve,” Dustin laughed, only annoying him further. “And she was into it? I mean, obviously. Aren’t you two seeing each other tomorrow?”

“They are. They’re baking together for the school carnival.”

“Baking? Seriously?” He cringed at Steve. “How is that even slightly sexy?”

“Are you kidding me? The kids will be at school. They will have the whole house to themselves.” Pushing off the fridge, Robin’s hands wove in front of her as if she were setting a scene for a play. “Picture it. They’re mixing up ingredients and oops, some just happens to get on her neck. What to do? The only obvious conclusion is for Steve to lick it off.”

“Oh! Yeah and once you get tongues involved…” A husky laugh rose up out of Dustin, causing Steve a lot of unease. He did not appreciate this side of Dustin, the kid he used to give advice to for how to talk to girls. Dustin and tongues did not mix and was not an image he wanted in his brain. “That’s hot.”

“It’s not hot,” he stated, turning back to the dishes in the sink. “It’s not. We are two parents who volunteered to help bake for the carnival and…”

“Yeah. One of them who can’t bake and only chose that option to spend more time with the girl of his dreams,” Robin reminded.

“Yeah. I did,” he admitted, squeezing far more dish soap onto the sponge than was necessary in his irritation. “But I didn’t do it to get lucky or whatever. I did it just so we can spend time together. We’ve been on one date. She’s a widow. I mean, Jesus. We’re just getting to know each other. Nothing like that is happening for a long time.”

“Sure. If you say so,” Dustin snorted and Steve had had more than enough. He grabbed the sprayer from the sink, pulling it as far as it would go, shooting water right at his face. The boy’s hands flew up as he yelled, wiping the droplets off his skin. “Damn! That was unnecessary, Steve!”

“It was very necessary. Stop talking about my sex life. One, it gives me the ick to hear you talking about sex at all. You shouldn’t know anything about it. As far as I am concerned, you’ve never done it and I don’t want to know otherwise. And two, it’s not happening.” At Robin and Dustin’s disbelieving look, he sighed. “It’s not. Nothing is happening tomorrow. Seriously.”

____________________________________________________________

You moved throughout the house, laundry basket tucked under your arm, as you did your nightly pick-up of Eli’s various toys and clothes that had managed to be strewn everywhere. A random sock that had been deposited while he was eating his after school snack, the Hot Wheels car that had raced on an epic journey down the steps and then been abandoned at the base of them, the stuffed giraffe forgotten on the couch as he’d fumbled half asleep upstairs for bedtime.

Depositing the basket next to the stairs to be dealt with tomorrow morning, you made your way into the kitchen. You grabbed the bottle of Malbec that you'd picked up at the store earlier and poured yourself a generous glass before making your way toward the living room, pausing at the door frame, your eyes trailing the little pencil lines that documented your son’s growth through the years.

Your finger traced the one that said, Eli, 5 years old, the last time that Justin had been the one to do it. You could see the moment so clearly, the light in your son’s eyes as his dad gasped, marveling at how much he’d grown since last year, asking him if he’d been sneaking spinach when they weren’t looking. Eli had giggled as Justin had hoisted him into the air, exclaiming that he was going to be bigger than him, something her son could not fathom as his father always seemed larger than life.

“I miss you,” you whispered, closing your eyes, tears burning the backs of your eyelids.

You hoped he could hear you, somehow, someway, through the span of time and space and death. You hoped he knew how much you missed him, how much Eli missed his dad. You hoped that he knew that there wasn’t a day that went by where you didn’t think of him and wished that things had gone differently.

Your feet led you into the living room and you collapsed on the couch, your head resting along the back. You'd never once asked Justin to give up the military. Not when you were dating, not when you got married, not even when you found out you were pregnant or after your son had arrived. You'd always known how much the job meant to him. He wouldn’t have been your Justin if he’d walked away.

No. You'd always accepted it was just a part of him like the color of his hair or the way he rose before the sun no matter what time he went to bed. He was a soldier and that was it. There was no speculating on that, no room for compromise. To ask him to quit would have been like asking him to give up his soul.

You'd worried. Of course you had. You knew it was a possibility but he always came home to you…until he didn’t.

Even knowing it’s a possibility never actually prepares you for the real thing. Yeah, you knew it could happen, that at any moment something could go wrong when your husband was heading into hostile areas. But you never actually entertained the thought. He was the other half of you. You couldn’t possibly survive without him so he had to keep coming home to you.

And how could you not have known when it happened? If your souls were linked, if you were connected the way you believed you were, why didn’t you feel it when he’d left this Earth? Surely there should have been some pain, some ache, some sign from the Universe that the other half of your heart had been destroyed.

But you'd known nothing. You'd woken to your alarm, made breakfast, gotten Eli ready and dropped him off at school. You'd stopped at the grocery store and chatted with Nick, the cashier, like it was any other Tuesday. He’d told you that he was heading to Stanford the following fall for Mathematics and Statistics. You'd come home and started the laundry. You were just plugging in the vacuum when the knock at the door came. How could you have been sweeping when a piece of your very soul had been destroyed?

How could you have been sitting in your living room, sharing a glass of wine and laughing with Janice, when your husband was bleeding out half a world away? You'd focused on that for so long when you'd found out when he died. You'd hated yourself for it, for enjoying life, for having a laugh, while he lay suffering so far from his family.

The ring of the phone jolted you from your thoughts. Blinking, you set your wineglass down on the coffee table and padded, barefoot, to grab the cordless from its stand by the television before the ringing woke up Eli.

“Hello?”

“Hi honey. It’s not too late to call, is it? I was going to call you earlier but your dad invited Jerry and Susanne over without telling me and I just got them out of my house. They just bought a camper and once we got on that subject, they would not shut up about it. They had to tell us about all the bells and whistles it’s got and all the places they’re going to see. Good grief. It’s just an extra-large tent, you know.”

“A tent doesn’t have a running bathroom.”

You smiled, dropping back onto the couch, lifting your glass to your mouth as you listened to your mom rant for ten more minutes about this couple.

“Your dad met him at the golf course and, of course, now I’m stuck with not only him but his braggy wife. Now she wants to have lunch next week. She wants to tell me all about the pool they’re having put in this summer and the kitchen remodel they did last year. Please. I hate people who show off. Money doesn’t make anybody better than anyone else. Money can’t buy you manners or a kind heart.”

“No, you’re right about that. But come on, mom. Don’t you think it would be nice to get out of the house and go to lunch? You just met the lady. She might have been trying to impress you. Give her a chance.”

“Oh, don’t you start, too. Your dad’s been saying the same thing. Susanne loves reading romance novels just like you. You should invite her to your book club. You two have so much in common. Just give her a chance.” You could hear your mother’s eyes roll through the phone. “Maybe I don’t want to give her a chance. I have plenty of my own friends.”

“But dad doesn’t.”

A loud sigh came down the line, “I know he doesn’t. Anyway, how are you and that beautiful grandson of mine?”

“We’re both really good.”

Your mom went silent which was never a good sign.

“Mom?”

“Really? That’s intriguing.”

“What’s intriguing?”

“The emphasis you just put on really.”

“I did not emphasize really,” you sighed, heading falling against the back of the couch.

“You absolutely did. So what is the reason for this over-emphasized really?”

“Mom…”

“Oh, come on. Something’s changed since the last time we talked. And it’s something good by the sound of it. Is it so bad that I want to know what made my daughter so happy?”

“You’re very nosy, did you know that?”

“I do but also, you’re my child so I am allowed. If I can’t prod into every part of your life, then whose can I? Besides, it’s been far too long since I’ve heard that little…what word am I looking for? Delighted. You sound delighted. Exhilarated even. Dare I say exuberant? Effervescent?”

“Just because you teach creative writing at a university doesn’t mean you have to throw the thesaurus at me. I am not one of your students.”

“Darling, come on. Tell me what’s got you sounding happy for the first time in years. I can keep going. You sound jubilant, joyous, lighthearted…”

“Oh my god, stop,” you laughed, running your palm over your forehead. “Okay. If you must know, there might be a person…”

“A person? And is this person of the male persuasion?”

“Maybe.”

“And how did you meet this person who may or may not have a penis?”

“Mom!”

“Basic anatomy dear. It’s not that scandalous.”

“Jesus. You’re just as bad as Janice.” How you'd managed to be a product of your mother was beyond you, especially when your dad wasn’t much better. Both of them just said whatever they wanted, consequences be damned. “He is Eli’s little league coach. That’s how we met. Eli and his son, Jeremiah, became best friends this year at school and it started with just trying to get a playdate together. But then, because of the boys, we’ve been spending a lot of time together and he asked me on a date. We went out to dinner last night.”

“And?”

“And what?”

Your mother snorted and you could picture her face so clearly, the sound bringing back every time you'd tried to avoid a conversation when you were younger. When her mom asked about your crush on Elliot in junior high. When she’d tried to get you to share about your prom night. When you'd come home crying after Jessica Finch had told everyone you'd given blowjobs to half the basketball team. Your mother always knew and she always managed to dig it out of you no matter how hard you tried to resist. There was no resisting Sally Madden when she was on an information gathering mission.

“How did it go?”

“It was…perfect? I mean, it was amazing. He’s such a good guy, mom. He’s ridiculously good looking.”

“Oh! Describe him for me.”

You sat forward, crossing your legs, setting your empty glass on the table. How to describe Steve? It felt like there weren’t the words to accurately depict how beautiful he truly was.

“Okay. Well, he’s just under six feet. He has this chestnut colored hair. It’s so thick and it’s longer but not too long. It’s the kind of hair that most girls would kill for. He has hazel eyes and I swear, every color is in them. Sometimes they’re more green, sometimes more golden, sometimes more brown. It’s like they change with his moods. And his smile…his smile is like the sun. It’s so bright and beautiful and you just can’t help but smile too. And he has these adorable little moles on his face and neck. And he’s fit, you know, but not, like, too fit. He’s not all muscly but he definitely takes care of himself. His hands are huge. They could swallow my entire head but he’s so gentle. Oh, and his chest hair…I didn’t even know I had a thing for chest hair but apparently I do.”

Your mom giggled and your face flushed. You hadn’t meant to quite share all of that but once you began, it all just came spilling out. Had you really just talked about Steve’s chest hair with your mother? You could envision your mom’s feet kicking in glee, overjoyed that you had shared so much with her.

“Mom, please don’t make this a bigger deal than it is,” you pleaded. “We’ve only gone on one date and I have no idea where it’s going. It might be nothing.”

“I’m not making anything bigger than it is. Honey, you sound so happy. It is absolutely a big deal. It’s the biggest deal. Oh, I can’t wait to meet this guy who has made my girl sound like she’s truly living for the first time since Justin.”

That familiar knot of guilt coiled inside of you at your husband’s name. You rotated your ankles, willing away any kind of anxiety. It was okay. You were allowed to be happy. At least that’s what everyone kept telling you and if you shared how you were feeling with your mother, she would tell you the same thing. There was no point in rehashing it again.

“Mom, it’s really not yet. It might not even be anything.”

“You know, we were talking about coming for a visit. This could be the perfect time.”

“Oh no. Wait…”

“Oh honey, I can’t wait to meet him. I can already tell by the way you sound that he’s incredible. And he sounds so dreamy but then, you’ve always had good taste. Maybe we could plan a trip for next month. Your dad wants to catch one of Eli’s games anyway.”

Oh god. Your stomach rolled, your eyes darting to find something to focus on. The clock on the wall, the steady tick of the second hand. The ashtray on the coffee table that Eli had made for you last year even though you didn’t smoke. Your red pumps sitting by the door, discarded after a long day at work.

No. Your mom swooping in, fawning all over Steve, and inflating this into something much larger than it was…that was the last thing you needed. Sounds…you needed sounds. Any sounds that were not your mother screeching in your ear.

“Mom, I have to go.”

“Oh, but sweetie…”

“No. I need to go,” you gasped, struggling to find air.

“Honey, is it happening?”

“It’s ok. I’ve got control of it but I need to get off the phone.”

“Okay but if you…”

“Bye mom.”

You slammed the phone down, closing your eyes, going inward. The tick of the clock, the sound of someone’s radio playing next door, the hum of the washing machine. You wiggled your fingers, nodded your head, and tapped your foot.

It was under control. You were in control. You could do this. If your parents came it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Besides, you would love to see them. The last time you'd seen them had been Christmas and Eli would be overjoyed that they were visiting. You would have to give Steve fair warning before then. Yeah. That wouldn’t be awkward at all.

____________________________________________________________

Steve ran damp palms down the front of his jeans as he approached your house the next morning. You'd told him to be there by eleven so they would have plenty of time to get the baking done before the boys had to be picked up from school. Looking at his watch it was 10:56. He was right on time.

Of course, that could be because of how stressed he’d been this morning. After dropping off Jeremiah, he had called in to the office just to check in and make sure everything was set for the day. As soon as you had offered to let him come and bake with you, he rearranged his schedule, moving a meeting to tomorrow and asking Gerry to do the rounds of some of the job sites. But still, it was his responsibility, and he just wanted the assurance that all would run smoothly and he wouldn’t receive any calls interrupting their time together.

Gerry was great but he’d only been with the company for six months and often called just to double check decisions with Steve. His self-confidence was lacking. Steve had assured him that he could make the calls today, making it abundantly clear that he didn’t want to be bothered for the day unless it was a life-or-death emergency. Nothing would burst the bubble of a new relationship faster than constant distractions.

He’d spent the two hours after that pacing, checking the clock, heading into the bathroom to make sure he looked okay, changing his shirt, anxiously waiting for it to be time to leave. On more than one occasion he’d grabbed his keys, thinking he’d just show up early but stopped himself, not wanting to seem too eager. But he was. He’d thought of nothing but you since your date, seeing your face, hearing your laugh, getting to taste those perfectly sweet lips again.

You had even invaded his dreams in the very best way possible. After a rather vivid dream of you underneath him, his name falling from your lips as you urged him on over and over, he’d had to take matters into his own hands this morning to relieve the throbbing hard-on he’d opened his eyes to. His hand moving over his length, picturing you in his mind, those pink lips and beautiful eyes, your dainty hand stroking him to release.

Fuck. Steve shook it off. He had to stop. He was not going to be able to control himself from making a move if he didn’t. It was hard enough to not touch you or kiss you when the boys were around and now, they were going to be completely alone in your house. That opened far too many possibilities and he didn’t want to push you too fast. He feared if the two of you made a move you weren't really ready for, then you would retreat, pull away from him, and this would be over before it really began.

Bracing himself, he lifted his fist and rapped on the door three times. He could do this. He could control these urges. He wasn’t a fucking pre-teen anymore who didn’t know what to do with a boner. He had this completely under control.

But then the door opened and no, he absolutely did not because there you stood, looking so damn enticing and all he could focus on were those perfect pink lips, currently curved up on both sides in the most delicious looking smile, and he was overcome with the urge to shove you against the wall and kiss you senseless.

“Hey! Right on time,” you beamed, waving your hand in invitation. “Come on in. I’ve got the kitchen all set up for us.”

“Great,” he replied, thinking you didn’t have the kitchen set up for what he actually wanted to be doing. “I am going to apologize now because I really am very bad at this. I don’t know how much help I’ll be. I may have just signed you up for double duty.”

You shrugged, bouncing barefoot, your toenails a bright sky blue, into the kitchen. The counter space was absolutely covered with mixing bowls, baking pans, containers of baking ingredients, and tupperware just waiting to hold sweet treats.

“Not a big deal. I actually love to bake. I’ve been doing it since I was a kid.”

“With your mom?”

“Oh god no,” you snorted, grabbing the container that looked like flour. “My mom would burn the house down if she tried to bake. She can’t cook, either. She hates the kitchen. If it weren’t for my dad, we would have lived off of take-out. No. I baked with my grandma. I used to spend most weekends with her when I was a kid and she always had something in the oven.”

“That’s cute. I can just picture little you, nose all dusted with flour. She never taught your mom?”

“Grandma on my dad’s side,” you explained. “We’re going to start off with basic rice krispie treats. Every kid loves a rice krispie treat.” At his skeptical expression, you laughed, sliding the recipe card toward him. “I promise. You can’t mess it up. It’s not even really baking. Nothing has to go in the oven.”

“You have far too much faith in me,” Steve told you, glancing down at the card.

“You just melt the butter and then add the marshmallows. The trick is to keep stirring it until the marshmallows are completely melted. Then you add the mixture to the Rice Krispies, spread it in the pan, let it cool, and voila, you have a yummy treat. I mean, anyone can do that.”

“You clearly haven’t met me. I can grill any kind of meat you want but baking…but we’ll see. I’ll give it a go.”

He set to work on the Rice Krispie Treats, grabbing a saucepan and a stick of butter. He turned the burner on low, watching as you began measuring and dumping ingredients into a bowl.

“And what are you making?”

“I am making my grandma’s famous strawberry crumb bars,” you answered.

“Ahh. So, does your mom’s mom not like to cook or bake either?” he asked, swirling a spatula through the butter gently.

“My grandma on my mom’s side doesn’t like anything,” you laughed harshly. “She’s a miserable woman who made my mom’s childhood hell. She got pregnant at twenty-two and the guy took off. She’s never told my mom who her dad is. I guess she never wanted kids and so she just acted like she didn’t have one. My mom practically raised herself, which is why she has no idea how to cook. She lived off of cereal and canned soup, whatever she could find because her mom went out most nights leaving her alone. She doesn’t speak to her and neither do I.”

“Damn, that really sucks for you and your mom. I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, stirring the ingredients in the bowl. “It doesn’t really bother me. I never went without. It bothers me for my mom. It does suck. It sucks that she never had anyone to call about all the crazy shit that happens in life. I don’t know what I’d do without my mom. She drives me nuts but she’s my best friend, you know?”

“No,” he chuckled awkwardly, dumping marshmallows into the pan. “I actually don’t. I’m more like your mom, remember? Hell, I may as well be an orphan at this point. I haven’t seen my parents in years. They didn’t even come up to the hospital to see Jere when he was born. My mom saw him once, when he was four months old.”

“Jesus…that…Steve, I don’t even have words for that. How does a mother do that? How can they not want to see their own grandchild?”

“Probably because they don’t want to see me,” he answered, cringing as he attempted to stir the cereal into the sticky mixture. It did not want to mix and he had to give it some real elbow grease to get it to start blending together. “I’m a massive disappointment. I didn’t go to college. I didn’t follow in my dad’s footsteps and according to them, I married down and now I am reaping what I sowed. Like they’re the glowing example of a successful marriage. Staying together doesn’t mean it’s successful, especially when you can barely stand each other.”

You slid by him as he carried the bowl to the counter and you transferred your bars to the oven. Closing the door, you spun, hands braced on the handle.

“You know they’re wrong, don’t you?”

“What?” he asked, becoming frustrated as the gooey concoction fought back, not wanting to leave the spatula to transfer into the pan.

“Your parents. They’re wrong. Any parent who wouldn’t be proud as hell to have raised someone like you is completely out of their mind.”

“I think you give me far more credit than I deserve.” Steve groaned, shaking his hand as the marshmallow mixture stuck to his fingers when he tried to press it out of the bowl and into the pan.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” you chuckled, grabbing the butter. “Here. Hang on.” You spread the butter lightly over the spatula, easily spooning the rest into the pan and then spread it over the top to even it out. “You don’t see what everyone else does.”

“I mean, it’s not like I’m not proud of where I’m at. I know I’ve done okay for myself. And I wouldn’t trade a single part of my life for the one they wanted for me.” Steve moved to the sink, squirting soap onto his hands, scrubbing at the sticky mess he’d become. “I just worry that you have this image in your head of me and you’re going to wind up sorely disappointed when I can’t live up to it.”

“Oh Steve, you’ve already far exceeded it. You don’t have to try as hard as you think.”

A shudder ran through him at the closeness of your voice. He grabbed the dish towel that was folded next to the sink, drying his hands as he turned to you, resting against the counter. You were right in front of him, those beautiful eyes filled with just as much desire as he was currently feeling. Was it real or was he just imagining it? Did you want this as badly as he did?

“I want to kiss you again. Jesus Christ, I’ve wanted to kiss you silly since you opened that door,” he stated boldly and you stepped into him, pulling the dish towel from his hands, tossing it back onto the counter.

“So what’s stopping you?”

That was all the confirmation he needed and then his hands were on your face, his mouth descending on yours. His entire body sagged as if in sweet relief, releasing the breath he’d been holding since he’d arrived. He felt like a parched man who’d finally received a drink of water, the very essence of life seeping into every pore of his being.

His hands moved to your hips as yours tangled in his hair and he pressed you back into the island, his lips never leaving yours. A moan vibrated from your body to his and the aftershocks of it shot straight to his cock. Fuck, he wanted you so badly. He wanted to taste every single goddamn inch of this woman, to run his hands over your bare skin, to watch as you unraveled before him. He wanted to worship at your goddamn feet. It was becoming harder to remember why he needed to wait.

It was made damn near impossible when you pressed back against him, your bodies colliding against the sink once again. Your lips broke from his and you gasped his name when his thigh came between your legs. You rocked forward against it and any sense of self-control he had snapped. He had to make you say his name again and again. He wanted to memorize you, to find out exactly what made you feel good, and then watch you come undone when he did just that.

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, your hips rolling as you sought out the pressure of his jean-clad thigh.

Keeping one hand on your hip, his other slid into your hair, cupping the back of your neck. He finally allowed himself to explore more of you. His nose traced the line of your throat, his tongue following, relishing the shiver that raced over your skin as he did so. He sucked the lobe of your ear between his lips, reminding himself you were crossing over a dangerous line, one he wouldn’t be able to stop at soon.

“Honey…if we don’t stop now…I don’t know if I’ll be able to,” he rasped when your fingers dug into his back. “Fuck, I want you. I want you so badly right now but if you don’t want this…”

____________________________________________________________

His words filtered through the fog of desire that had you completely lust drunk. Did you want this? God, you wanted this. Your body was craving this. You wanted all these stupid clothes out of the way. You wanted no barriers between them. You wanted him in a way you hadn’t wanted anything in far too long. Was it stupid? Maybe, but you couldn’t bring yourself to think rationally right now. The repercussions of this were a problem for later you to deal with.

“I want this,” you choked out. “I want you.”

He groaned and then his hands were pulling your shirt over your head, his eyes hungry as they roamed over your chest, the pink lacy bra you'd put on as you'd tried to convince yourself it wasn’t for a reason when in reality it was for this exact reason.

“You are so beautiful, honey.”

You needed to see him too. You pulled at the hem of his shirt and he reached for it impatiently, pulling it up and over his head, dropping it to the floor. Jesus. Your eyes raked over every tiny mole, the mass of dark hair that coated his chest, tapering into a line that disappeared under the waist of his jeans.

“You too,” you murmured, entranced, your hand moving as if on its own, fingers slipping through the coarse hairs, following the line down his abdomen. You watched as his eyes slipped closed, felt the shudder that ran over his stomach, the muscles going taut, at your touch.

That soft smile, those warm eyes, threatened to melt you just like the butter on the stove. His fingers slipped under the straps of your bra, his eyes locked on yours as if asking for your permission. Your teeth raked your bottom lip. You nodded, feeling the silky straps slip over your biceps and down your arms. Then his fingers were brushing the curve of your breasts and he was gently pulling the lace away from you, exposing your nipples, already hard little pebbles.

“I just want to taste every single inch of your skin,” Steve whispered, the backs of his hands tracing the mounded flesh, ripples of anticipation coursing through you. He stepped into you, forcing you to step back. “Is that alright, beautiful girl?”

“Yes…”

Then his lips were wrapping around your nipple and your hand was in his hair, eyes rolling back in your head, your back arching against the island. He nibbled, licked, and suckled before his tongue glided over your skin, providing the same attention to the other. Your body was absolutely humming under his attention and when his fingers found the button on your pants, you trembled with the expectation of what was to come.

“This okay?” he mumbled against your skin, face nuzzled between your breasts.

“Uh-huh…” you whimpered, losing yourself in the feel of those stupidly soft lips moving lower, open mouthed kisses pressed against every single bare inch of you while his fingers worked your button and zipper.

His thumbs hooked in your belt loops, dragging your jeans down your legs, his lips taking the time to savor each inch of skin as it was exposed until you thought you would implode with need. Steve’s hand curled around your inner thigh, nudging your legs apart and you obliged, hands gripping the island behind you for dear life.

He looked up at you and your eyes found his. That was a mistake. As his tongue ran over his lower lip, his eyes darkening, turning a deep chocolate brown, you thought you would come right on the spot. You'd never had anyone look at you with so much desire, not even Justin. But you quickly shut that thought process down because if you let him in right now, you would never be able to go through with this and you wanted this so much right now. You needed this. You needed this like a man who had been starving for days needed a meal.

Steve leaned forward and then his warm breath caressed the lace of your matching pink panties. You inhaled sharply, eyes slipping closed as his nose ran over the fabric, bumping over exactly where you needed sweet relief. You whimpered softly, hips rolling toward him. His fingers curled into the cloth, pulling it down your legs while his mouth teased, kisses that were far too soft dancing over your inner thighs.

You lifted one foot and then the other, allowing him to pull them away, your body now completely exposed to him. Steve lips traced a path along the curves of you before they found yours again, his hands working behind your back, sliding bowls and canisters away. Those large hands grasped onto your ass, lifting you up and setting you on the island, your legs dangling over the edge.

“Lay back for me, honey,” Steve urged, his palm pressing against your breastbone until your back was flush with the formica. His hands slid along your body, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as his eyes soaked in every inch of you, stopping when they reached your pussy already glistening with need. “Jesus, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on. I can’t believe that I’m the one who gets to touch you…”

His thumb traced the seam of you and static, nothing but static filled your brain. He slid through your slick and then he was applying pressure where you were aching for it, grazing over the sensitive nub, your hips rocking up to meet his hand. All rational thought was gone. You couldn’t have contemplated anything if you wanted to. The only thing you could focus on was his hand and then his fingers pressing against your entrance before they were inside you, stretching you.

Your eyes fluttered open to find him focused on your face and you swallowed, hard. He was watching you like you were a painting at the museum and he was trying to interpret your meaning. Like you were an image he was trying to burn into his memory. Your already overheated skin was blazing under his scrutiny.

“Does that feel good?” he asked, his free hand roaming the length of your torso to palm your breast. “Tell me, honey. Tell me what you need. I want to give you whatever you need.”

You were going to die. You were going to die right here, on your kitchen island, and you would be the happiest woman to do so. This man seriously could not be anymore perfect. The way he kept checking to make sure you were okay, the way he wanted to know just what you wanted. This man couldn’t be real.

“It’s good…” you gasped. “Jesus, so good.”

“But tell me what you want. Come on. What do you like? Is it this?” He curled his fingers within you and your back arched, a wail of pleasure ripping from within you. Steve smiled, his fingers pressing against that spongy space within you that had your vision going fuzzy. “Yeah. You like that?”

“Yes…I like that…” you shuddered. “Oh my god….Steve…”

“I love when you say my name. Wanna make you say it over and over.”

He dropped to his knees, hands clasping your calves and draping them over his shoulders. A guttural sound, more animal than human, wrenched from your lips when his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking the tiny bud while his fingers continued moving within you. Your hips rocked, your head swiveled, your hands grasping the edges of the island so tightly the wood underneath was digging into your flesh.

“Steve…” His tongue flicked and fluttered. “Steve…” He circled and swirled. “Steve…” His lips covered it again, pulling it between them tightly, and you screamed, “Steve!”

Your entire body convulsed as trails of fire raced over your skin, the spring that had been coiling tightly within you from the moment his lips found yours finally breaking free. Your vision faded as everything turned white around you and you shattered under the force of your release.

An overwhelming need to feel every single inch of him overtook you and you shot up just as he was rising to his feet, the evidence of what he’d just done to you shining on his lips and chin. Your hands grasped at his face, pulling him in, the taste of your own pleasure evident on his tongue, only furthering your need for him.

His hands dropped on either side of you as yours worked at his pants, pushing them and his boxers down over his hips. Pulling your face from his, you looked down, your eyes widening at his girth. The man was even more hung than you'd imagined. Your hand wrapped around the width of him, your fingers and thumb not quite meeting and the muscle in his jaw jumping as he ground his teeth.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” he growled as you moved your hand along the length of him, stroking from root to tip.

You watched his face as you stroked him, your thumb rubbing over the tip, spreading the dampness that was already collected there. He was so beautiful. His lips parted as he panted softly, the line of his jaw as hard as stone, his eyes closed, those long lashes resting on his cheekbones. And you were the one who was making him look that way. The very thought was enough to send you over the edge again.

“Wanna feel you, honey. I want to be inside you. Would that be alright?”

Yes. God, yes. You wanted that too. In answer, you scooted forward, slipping the head of him over your heat, raking your teeth over your lip when he groaned, the sound a rumble that ran right through him.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve groaned as he pressed into you, pausing to allow your body to get used to his girth.

Your body stretched for him, welcomed him, as if it had been waiting for him. He pressed further, the movement so slow, until your pelvises were flush together and he was completely buried within you. His hand cradled the back of your head, his forehead pressed to yours, as they stayed still for a moment, just relishing the feel of your bodies connected.

“Fuck, honey. You feel amazing. You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m good,” you assured, touched that even now he had enough control to worry about you, to take the time to ensure that you were handling him okay.

His other hand gripped your hip as he began to move, slowly thrusting forward, his cock dragging along your walls, feeling like he was stretching you anew each and every time. He was being so sweet, so gentle with you, but you were craving more. You wanted him to move faster, to thrust harder. You wanted him to take you like you were his, to claim you, because in this moment you wanted nothing more than to belong to Steve.

His finger brushed your bottom lip, “What do you want, beautiful girl? Tell me.” Like he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“More…I want more,” you gasped, fingers gripping his firm shoulder blades, nails raking over the skin. “Faster. Harder…more.”

Your body was screaming for it. It had been so long since you'd done this with anyone and your pussy was practically vibrating with excitement to finally be put to good use.

“Oh yeah?” His palm came to your breastbone again, pressing you back down onto the island. “I told you I would give you anything you want, do anything you want. You want it like this?”

His hands grabbed onto your hips as he pounded into you, your flesh slapping together, echoing in the space of the kitchen. You cried out his name, your hands wrapping around his forearms to keep yourself from slipping over the counter.

His hips pistoned relentlessly, giving you exactly what you asked for and that snake in your belly coiled tightly, prepared to strike once again. Gripping his arms, your back bowed, as you tumbled through the stratosphere that was the earth shattering release exploding from within you.

“Oh fuck…Jesus…you’re so…fuck!”

Steve thrust into you, fingers clenching on the flesh of your hips as he grunted, his release filling you. He sucked down a large gulp of air, sweat glistening along the skin of his forehead and collapsed forward on you, his face pressed between your breasts, cock still nestled within you.

“Holy fuck…” he gasped, his lips peppering your skin with soft kisses.

Your fingers slipped into his hair, “Yeah…that’s definitely one way to describe it.”

You lay there, panting, struggling to come back down from the high you were currently on when your nose wrinkled. You smelled something…wrong. It was an acrid smell, almost smoky. And then your fire alarm began blaring.

“Shit!” you yelled, slapping at his back. “The bars!”

Steve jumped up, slipping out from you and as you leapt from the island, his release slid down your legs. But you couldn’t worry about that when dark smoke was currently billowing out of the oven.

Steve grabbed onto a pot holder, opening the oven door and pulling the bars that were now a burnt crisp out. He dropped them on top of the stove while you ran to the kitchen window, cracking it open, waving your arms to try to get the smoke out. Steve grabbed the dish towel he’d used earlier and waved it by the smoke detector until it finally stopped its incessant beeping.

“Holy shit,” you gasped, bent forward and then you burst out laughing at the absurdity of this moment. Both of you, bare ass naked, racing around the kitchen to empty it of smoke.

“Yeah, holy shit,” he laughed. “I mean, I like to think sex with me is pretty hot but I’ve never almost burned down a kitchen before.”

“So much for the bars.”

He shrugged, slipping up beside you, his arms snaking around your waist, his face nuzzling into your neck.

“That just means we need to do more baking and I would definitely like to do more baking with you.”

Chapter 11

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