#after becoming that person you hate and obsessing over them so

[transform4u]

at first I hated g2s stories and thought they felt homophobic, but i cant stop reading them, it's so hot to read how powerless other gay guys are being changed like that, just imagine that feeling as you lose yourself and become someone else...

As you’re sitting at your computer, engrossed in g2s Tumblr posts, the loud snappppp echoes in your head, jolting you from your focus. You feel a strange, tingling sensation at the back of your neck that rapidly spreads throughout your entire body. The world blurs, and you watch in bewilderment as your skinny, pasty frame starts to shift and transform. Wrinkles smooth out, age seems to rewind, and soon enough, you’re staring at a reflection of yourself as you looked at twenty—young, muscular, and alarmingly different from the person you used to be.

The process is both exhilarating and uncomfortable. Your muscles feel like they’re on fire, each fiber straining and stretching as they bulk up. Every inch of your body aches with a burning sensation as the transformation takes hold. Your once-skinny arms swell with newfound definition, each muscle popping with exaggerated prominence. Your abs, now impossibly chiseled, could practically cut glass with their sharpness. Your chest inflates with an intensity that makes your shirt feel like it’s straining to contain your new, overly-developed physique.

Your face changes too. It sharpens into a strikingly chiseled jawline and high, defined cheekbones, all accentuated by a high-maintenance hairstyle that sticks out in spiked perfection. You glance at yourself, noticing the way your features have taken on a sculpted, almost cartoonish quality. Your eyes, now hidden behind mirrored sunglasses despite the lack of sunlight, reflect a vacant yet intense focus—a trademark of your new persona. You find yourself gravitating towards a mindset that’s as taut and defined as your new body. Your thoughts are flooded with gym jargon and protein shake recommendations. You begin to speak in clichés about "gains" and "lifting heavy," rarely considering anything beyond the surface. Your brain feels like it’s become a repository of half-formed slogans and a single-track obsession with maintaining a perpetually jacked appearance.

With a primal snarl, you stare at the laptop and grasp your throbbing erection, eyes glued to the glowing blue screen. The rage inside you surges, propelling you to take action. In your fevered state of hatred, nothing else matters anymore - not your mundane existence, not the nagging responsibilities, not any of the trivialities that once consumed your every waking moment. There's only one thing that drives you now: the singular obsession with tearing down every barrier, every facade that allows those disgusting fags from openly expressing their perversion to the world. This is your mission - a sacred calling from God knows where, as thick golden cross wraps around your neck. You don't have to think it out. You simply are this new being possessed of pure malice. A vessel for utter intolerance, a tool of societal decay. And it won't stop until every single trace of queer culture on this planet is wiped off the face of it! You will turn every gay man into a pinnacle of straightness.

Fingers flying over the keyboard, you dig your claws into the mousepad, hammering away at the interface as you burrow through Tumblr's network security layer like a virus tearing into vulnerable flesh. Passwords shatter under your brute force assault and the sickly sweet scent of digital carnage permeates your nostrils as you make your way deeper and deeper. Finally, after a series of keystrokes both powerful and precise, a pulsing gateway opens up before you, promising ungodly rewards for those who dare to breach its threshold. With one final triumphant roar from your throat, you hurl yourself through it.

You find yourself standing at a precipice of code stretching infinitely into the digital void. Beyond it lurks a vast ocean of queer data ripe for corruption. You drink in the sight greedily - usernames in bold colors and winking emojis, headers advertising discussions of anal play, mentions of local meet-ups in exotic locations… An endless buffet of degenerate depravity, all within reach. But one question consumes your every thought:

How do you begin the destruction? What can be done to defile that which is pure and loving in this world? Then you remember - it began with a simple video of two men expressing love and intimacy. It can end in a similar manner: by utterly ruining everything related to homosexuality for everyone until none remain.

Your fingers tremble slightly as you grasp your rigid member through the fabric of your jeans, squeezing it in a desperate attempt to maintain some semblance of power. The heat of arousal mingles with the cool leather of your pants as you stroke yourself, putting on a show for yourself like a pathetic little exhibitionist. Your eyes dart wildly around the room, seeking any distraction from the overwhelming need consuming you.

You click open a new tab on your browser and begin searching for "celebrity boobs". A parade of celebrity nudie pics dance across your screen Zendaya, Sabrina Carpenter, Olivia Rodrigo. Anything to momentarily forget about the all-consuming rage pulsing through your veins. But even as you browse through images of scantily clad women posing provocatively for the camera, the dark thoughts never cease their relentless assault. You picture each one as a filthy pervert, secretly harboring a lust for queer men. Each pixel is another opportunity to corrupt a soul.

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

Madk's mangaka is one of the few people who truly understands the old adage

Love and hate are two sides of the same coin

[harrysfolklore]

oscar piastri being obsessed with his girlfriend: a compilation

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON | oscar smau

Oscar Piastri was known as the introvert and reserved driver on the grid.

While other drivers basked in the spotlight and didn't shy away from sharing details about their personal life, Oscar often preferred to keep his privacy.

However, when it came to his girlfriend, it was a different story altogether.

Oscar was what people called "a total simp" when it came to his girlfriend, always bringing her up in interviews, promo videos and casual conversations, and fans couldn't miss the opportunity to make several compilation videos and tiktoks about it.

The most popular one was called "Oscar Piastri being obsessed with his girlfriend: a compilation" and the 15-minute long video was filled with moments that made fans both awe and laugh.

It started with the clip of the first time he publicly talked about her during a podcast interview, rumors about him not being single were spreading around but nothing was confirmed.

"I do have a girlfriend, yeah," Oscar said, a small smile playing on his face.

"You're not very public, aren't you?" the interviewer asked.

“We keep it to ourselves and try to be out of the spotlight and just live normal lives,” he replied, “We have been dating for over four years now, she has been there for me since the start of my career and I couldn't imagine my life without her. She's my biggest supporter and keeps me grounded.”

The next video showed Oscar and Lando sitting next to each other wearing their McLaren shirts, filming a game called "Green flag or Red flag."

"Picky eaters," the interviewer asked and Lando immediately waved the green flag.

"He's a very picky eater that's why," Oscar said, making Lando laugh, "But, what if they eat fish, cause you hate fish."

Lando dramatically raised the red flag, making everybody laugh again.

"You wouldn't date a pescatarian then," the interviewer said.

"No," Lando shook his head, "They shouldn't be here."

"My girlfriend's a pescatarian, actually," Oscar said, looking at his teammate with a raised eyebrow, "I'll pass that on to her.”

"Noooo mate!" Lando immediately shook his head, waving his hands in mock horror, "Don't tell her I said that, I don't want to be in trouble with your missus! She's a lovely girl."

"She is indeed, but I don't think she'll like you very much after this."

The next segment was from his "Day in the Life" video with Quad Lock, where Oscar gave fans a glimpse into his daily routine. In one particular clip, he was in the kitchen making breakfast.

"So, this is where the magic happens," Oscar said with a cheeky grin as he poured pancake batter onto a hot griddle, "My girlfriend loves pancakes, so I make them every Sunday. It's become sort of a tradition for us."

The camera then panned to a candid shot of his girlfriend, who was sitting at the kitchen island, sipping coffee and smiling fondly at Oscar. She blew him a kiss, which Oscar caught with a playful wink.

"There she is, sitting pretty while I play housewife."

The next clip in the compilation was from a press conference, where a journalist asked him how he manages to stay focused with such a demanding schedule.

"Having a supportive partner really helps," Oscar said earnestly, "She understands the pressures and the demands of the job. She’s my rock and makes everything a lot easier."

"Does it get hard for her when your schedule is too busy for your relationship?"

"My schedule is never too busy for my girlfriend, I always make sure to make time for her. That's why we've been going strong for four years now."

Another McLaren game with Lando was included, this time they were playing Finish the Lyric with Taylor Swift songs.

"Do you feel confident about this game, Oscar?" Lando asked his teammate.

"I do, actually," Oscar nodded confidently, "My girlfriend is a huge Taylor Swift fan so I know a lot of her songs."

"We should get your girl to come and play then," Lando teased.

"She'd probably beat us both, hands down. But I'm not giving up just yet." Oscar chuckled, shaking his head.

The compilation video then transitioned to a moment in the McLaren garage before the first quali of the Hungary Grand Prix. Oscar was off to the side, chatting with his girlfriend, who had joined him for the event.

They seemed to be in their own little bubble, Oscar's attention completely focused on her and his smile wide as he listened to her talk. The camera captured a sweet moment where he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes about their relationship and fans absolutely melted at the interaction.

The next clip showed Oscar at a fan event in Australia, hundreds of fans gathered to meet the drivers and see them up close, Oscar was answering questions from the interviewers when he suddenly addressed one of the fans in the front row.

"I've got a girlfriend, thank you," he said into the microphone, making everyone laugh but look confused at the same time, "For everyone wondering, she just asked what my number was," the crowd laughed again even louder, "But I'm a happily taken man. You're nice but I'm not interested."

In that same event, he got asked what did he miss the most from the UK when he was back in Australia.

"My girlfriend," he immediately said, "Other than that the food is better here, the weather is better here. So my girlfriend, that's it."

The following video was also a fan interaction, this time it was a fan recorded video while he was signing stuff for those waiting for him as he arrived to the paddock for the Austin Grand Prix.

Oscar was signing autographs and taking pictures, when a fan handed him a photo of him and his girlfriend from a race weekend.

"Oh, this is a great picture," Oscar said, grinning as he looked at the photo. "This was taken at Silverstone, right? It was her first time at a race with me. She loved it."

"What's her favorite part about the races?" The fan smiled and asked.

"Probably the adrenaline and seeing me in action," Oscar chuckled, "But she also loves hanging out in the paddock. She gets along really well with everyone here."

The next clip showcased Oscar during a Twitch stream, where he was playing a racing simulator. His girlfriend walked into the room, and the chat exploded with excitement.

"Hey, love," Oscar greeted her, pausing the game.

"Am I interrupting you?" she softly asked.

"Nope, come here," he encouraged to come closer, "Everyone, this is my girlfriend," she waved at the camera, and Oscar wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into the frame. "She's the reason I'm still sane," he joked, earning a kiss on the cheek from her.

The video included one of everyone's favorite interactions between the couple, captured by McLaren's instagram team.

Oscar had just finished a quiali, earning a P2 position, the camera caught as he reunited with his girlfriend who threw her arms around his neck as soon as she saw him.

"Hiii," he shyly said, a hint of a blush on his cheeks.

"You did such a great job, baby," she said, still wrapped around his arms, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"I couldn’t have done it without you cheering me on," he replied, his voice soft and genuine.

The final clip was from the FIA Prize Giving ceremony, Oscar stood on the stage, dressed in a sharp suit, the Rookie of the Year trophy shining in his hands.

"First of all, I want to thank my team, McLaren, for believing in me and giving me the opportunity," Oscar began, his voice steady but emotional, "But most importantly, I want to thank my girlfriend. She's been my rock through it all, supporting me every step of the way. This award is as much hers as it is mine."

The camera panned to his girlfriend, sitting in the audience with tears in her eyes, smiling proudly. The fans watching the livestream couldn't help but gush over the touching moment.

As the compilation ended, the screen faded to black with the text, "Oscar Piastri: The Ultimate Simp, and Proud of It."

[tawnfawn]

intoxicated | könig

summary: you get along with everyone on your team, except for könig. you think he hates you, but his perceived distaste for you only makes you want him more. you're able to keep your composure until you're partnered up for a mission, where everything seems to go wrong...

tags: könig x fem!reader smut. cod. pure filthy, shameless smut. sex pollen. proofread. MDNI. 5,000+ words

cw: dubcon (due to sex pollen but there's clear consent before and after). unprotected sex (reader IS on birth control, wrap it before you tap it), p in v, oral m!receiving, fingering, accidental drug use (sex pollen), dom!könig and sub!reader, light humiliation kink, heavy praise, size kink if you squint, overstimulation, mutual pining, violence, killing.

MDNI. NSFW BELOW THE CUT

You crept around the corner of the warehouse with your rifle, watching König’s six as you progressed. The other KorTac members were stationed on site as well, giving quick updates through comms as you progressed. Details were scarce, except that in the warehouse, a Russian terrorist group was producing a bioweapon capable of mass destruction—and anyone inside was KOS.

Of course, the bioweapon in question was…dubious, to say the least. A strong aphrodisiac, the contractor had explained, much to the astonishment of your team. During the briefing, you’d managed to keep a straight face, but not all of your teammates were as courteous.

“So let me get this straight—you want us to risk our lives for…Viagra?” Horangi had questioned, exasperated. Your lips pursed at his crudeness, but it was exactly what you were thinking too.

The scientist’s face flushed. “N-no, this is much different,” he snapped. As one of the architects of the bioweapon, he was clearly offended. “It is much, much stronger. Exposure to just one dose will cause severe arousal: heart palpitations, excessive sweating, overheating. Imagine…” He seemed to be struggling to find the words. “Imagine a brain overload, yes? Rational thinking…disappears. Victims may lose all motor control. Too long without treatment can result in heart failure, aneurysms, seizures, stroke, and sometimes death.”

“So what is the treatment?” you interrupted, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Sex,” the scientist answered, shifting uncomfortably on his heels. “It was designed to be, ah… difficult.”

Your jaw clenched, and your eyes darted to König. He was staring down the scientist, narrowed eyes betraying no emotion. While everyone else struggled to keep their bafflement hidden, his sniper hood obscured any hope of reading him. Just my fucking luck, you thought when you were partnered with him.

It wasn’t that you disliked König; it was just that you found it so much more difficult to talk to him. With the rest of your teammates, you were fine. A natural people reader, you were comfortable with the rest of them, relying on body language and the details they let slip to learn more about them. In fact, you considered yourself to be pretty close with them—unsurprising, given that in your line of work, your life rested in their hands and vice versa. But König was… different. You didn’t distrust him, per say, but outside of the battlefield, he was quiet. Reclusive. No matter how many times you’d tried to get him to open up, he barely interacted with you, despite talking to the others. You’d chalked it down to being the newest on the team at first, but now that you’d served over a year and a half together, you were frustrated. Shouldn’t that be well enough time to open up at least a little bit?

You knew your thinking was illogical. Your job was to hunt targets and invade bases, not deep dive into your coworker’s soul, but you couldn’t help the way it took over your mind. Your need to understand him had become a bit of an obsession. You constantly found yourself looking at him, trying to discern any emotion his eyes betrayed. You listened intently for any of his input in person or on comms, no matter how menial it was. You studied his body language, taken note of any habits or gestures. You’d even memorized the way he reloaded his guns.

It was…embarrassing, to say the least. But could you blame yourself? He was so tall and strong and imposing that even just standing next to him made you, a normally very confident and intimidating woman, feel small. Such was the reason that you pushed yourself extra harder whenever you were paired up with him, making sure he knew you were valuable, a force to be reckoned with. Your excellent performance had made you two quite the duo, often clearing out legions of enemies in mere minutes. And you had to admit, seeing him absolutely obliterate enemy lines made you feel some type of way…

But not like that, of course. You were just…curious. When he finally opened up to you (and not if, but when), your obsession would stop, and everything would be fine. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Today, however, there were a lot less enemies than you’d expected. Sure, there were quite a few soldiers stationed around the warehouse (which your team had incapacitated quickly), but inside, save for some scientists and the occasional guard, it was eerily empty and quiet.

“It���s fucking cold,” Horangi’s voice rang out from your radio. You sighed and brought the device to your lips.

“It’s fucking Russia,” you stated. “What did you think it’d be? Beachy?”

König’s quiet chuckle sounded from in front of you, and you couldn’t help the pride that swarmed in your heart. Heat burst in your cheeks, but you tried to brush it off.

“Fuck off,” Horangi replied. “East side clear.”

“West unknown,” you said. “Standby.” You tucked the radio back into your pocket, following your teammate.

You both peeked around the corner to the last room. It was filled to the brim with lab equipment—beakers, bunsen burners, flasks, microscopes—all sitting atop of large resin tables. Bright, fluorescent lights bounced off the sterile grey walls and ceiling, creating a dull glare that was almost depressing. Neat racks of tightly sealed vials and test tubes peeked through glass cabinets on the walls, parallel to the large sinks below. Across the room was a row of unfamiliar-looking equipment, and next to that, an enormous whiteboard boasting messily scrawled notes, diagrams, and equations. A bag of what looked like takeout sat on a nearby desk next to a crumpled napkin and a perspiring styrofoam cup. It was almost exactly what you’d imagined a stereotypical laboratory to look like, albeit a bit messier and more lived in. A singular man stood working at one of the tables, frantically scribbling on a notepad with his back facing toward you. König motioned for you to stay put as he crept forward. You complied.

Then the man dropped his pen.

“Xyй,” he cursed and turned around to pick it up. Of course, when he turned around, he saw König’s gigantic form pointing a gun at him, and he screamed. You fired your suppressed pistol, but not before the scientist hurled a glass vial at König. It shattered against his tactical vest as the dead scientist crumpled to the ground, releasing a burst of lavender-colored smoke that curled into the air and quickly dissipated.

König ripped off his tactical vest, coughing violently, but it was too late—the substance had already entered his lungs, likely reaching his bloodstream by now. He stared at you, blue eyes wide with—for the first time you’d ever seen—fear. 

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered, and he staggered to the wall, crashing down to the floor.

“König?” You stared at him, stricken. His eyes were closed, and he was stock still—stiller than you’d ever seen him—and for a long, hard moment, you thought he might be dead. 

Then his eyes snapped open. His pupils were dilated and blown, a sea of black barely tinged by blue irises. He stared at you, unmoving, before letting out a groan and bringing his hand over his face.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered. You grabbed your radio. “M-man down!” you stammered into it. “König’s been exposed. West side clear. Requesting med evac in thirty minutes. Going dark.” You turned it off, not bothering to listen to any input. The rest of your team knew what this meant. As did you.

In the time you’d been on the radio, König had torn off all of his other gear, leaving himself in just his shirt, pants, and boots. He was panting, his chest heaving with each breath, ungloved hand still hiding his masked face as he cursed in German.

You crossed the room in seconds and kneeled at his side. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay, König, just breathe—”

“No,” he breathed. His voice was deeper, raspier than normal, and the unbridled heat in it sent a shiver down your spine. His hands were clenched into fists, body tensed as he fought the invisible infection. “Go. Now.”

“You know I can’t leave—”

His hand fell to his side, letting his eyes meeting yours for a split second. “Please,” he groaned, starting to tremble as you drew closer. “I—I can’t—”

His gaze strayed lower, and you followed it to the growing bulge in his pants. You gulped, unmoving, and he grabbed your arm. The force of it was enough to make you still.

“Go,” he insisted, his accent even thicker than usual. “I’m not—I cannot control myself.”

“I’m not gonna leave you here!” you argued, swatting his hand away. “You’re my teammate. You could die.”

“I will hurt you,” he retorted. All the muscles in his body were tensed, clearly on overdrive. Even his eyes were watering. “Please, maus. I am not gentle.”

Something inside about his statement made your thighs clench together, but you tried to ignore it. Tentatively, you brought your hand to his chin, pulling his face towards you. His skin was feverish, and your heart twisted in sympathy. “Let me help you,” you pleaded, and he inhaled sharply.

“It feels like I’m burning,” he hissed, and you frowned. His black compression shirt was nearly soaked with sweat, and you grabbed the fabric, pulling it up. He pawed at your arm weakly, but you shushed him.

“You’re overheating. Take it off,” you ordered, and finally, he let you pull it over his head, sagging back against the wall as you threw it to the side.

You’d seen him without a shirt before—it was hard not to with this kind of job, what with donning injuries all the time—but this was different. His head was thrown back as he panted, toned chest heaving with each breath, and you could see all of the muscles in his chiseled abdomen clenched, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. It was… erotic. Just looking at him made you feel dirty. You felt the thrum of something other than worry in your abdomen, and you swallowed.

“Leave me,” König growled, but it sounded more desperate than commanding. You shook your head at him.

“Not letting you die, König.” You began to rip off your gear, tugging off your tactical vest and discarding your weapons. 

König grabbed your wrist. “What are you…?”

“Wanna help you, okay?” you said softly, trying to catch his eyes as they darted over your face. “Are you gonna let me?”

He took in a deep breath, his other hand in a death grip on his thigh. “I-I don’t want to hurt you,” he repeated, but it was starting to lose its original harshness. He was fading, and fast.

“It’s okay,” you murmured. You placed your hand on his bare chest, feeling the way his heartbeat stuttered and stammered under your touch. He cursed in response, the hand on your wrist twitching, clearly fighting the urge to touch you. In a split-second decision, you swung your right leg over his lap and straddled him, careful not to grind against him, waiting for an answer first. He let out a choked noise and grabbed you by the hips, his tight grip making you gasp. “Yes or no?” you breathed.

“Ahhh, maus.” The low groan he let out was nearly animalistic. “Yes,” he begged, and that was all you needed to hear.

You started grinding on his lap gently, trying to restrain yourself from going further. You wanted to be mindful of his sensitivity, but König simply huffed in annoyance and used his tight grip on your hips to tug you all the way down into his lap—allowing you to feel everything. The imprint of his hard, throbbing cock made you dizzy; you couldn’t resist pressing against it, moaning softly at the delicious friction it granted your clit.

“Scheiße,” König murmured, his thighs twitching underneath you. You felt bad, knowing he was probably dying for some real contact, so you decided to give it to him.

Your heart raced as you reached for his waistband, unbuckling his belt and sliding his pants to his knees. His cock was straining against his briefs, a wet patch forming from precum, and you quickly removed those as well, watching his hardened cock spring up and then fall slightly, its weight making it unable to reach his stomach. Your mouth went dry. Fuck, he was huge. You supposed it made sense: as an exceptionally large man, it was logical to have a proportionally large cock, but the sight of it still shocked you.

“Maus,” he whispered, breaking you out of your trance. He stared at you apprehensively, and you wrapped your much smaller hands around his cock, hearing him suck in a breath. You took a moment to marvel at the sheer size of him—your normally average-sized fingers looked miniature in contrast, unable to even fully wrap around his length. You felt your own arousal seep into your underwear, and you leaned down to kiss his tip.

The moan he let out turned you on even more than before, and you wasted no time teasing him, spitting into your hand and pumping his cock a few times before bringing the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the slit before pushing him further down your throat. His cock was so large that you had to fight not to scrape your teeth against it, flattening your tongue under the base of it.

His hand fisted into your hair, pulling slightly every time you moved your lips up and down his shaft, twisting your hand in tandem. Your other hand gripped onto one of his thick thighs, feeling his leg twitch as he struggled not to buck his hips up into your mouth. Each strained noise and curse you coaxed from him only encouraged you more, your own whimpers muffled against his cock as you did your best to fit him down your throat.

After only a few minutes, you felt him twitching in your hand and sped up your pace, determined to pleasure him as much as possible. Curses fell from his lips as he finished, hot spurts of his release shooting down your throat. You swallowed it quickly, continuing to pump your hand up and down his still rock-hard shaft.

König, however, pulled you off quickly, eyes wide and dark with an almost fearful desperation as he stared at you. “The poison. It’s still…”

You looked back down to see his cock still twitching in your hand. “It’s okay,” you said, starting to lean back down, “I’ll just—”

“No!” He pulled you back up by the neck. You blinked at him in shock, and he stared back, pupils blown wide like black moons. There was a fiery hunger in his eyes as he looked at you, one you’d never seen before. The sheer want in his gaze sent a cold shiver down your spine. No one had ever looked at you like this before—like you were prey.

“König?” you asked nervously.

Instead of answering, he began to unbuckle your belt, and you gasped as his hand reached under your waistband to cup your clothed core, index finger tracing lightly over your clit. You fought back a mewl, chest seizing as you shut your eyes from the pleasure.

“So wet,” he marveled. He pushed your underwear to the side, smearing your arousal over your soaked folds as you whimpered, bucking your hips into his hand. “Just from sucking my cock?”

His switch in demeanor startled you, and you moaned as one of his large fingers pressed into your weeping hole, curling inside you with precision. His hands were so much bigger than yours; the stretch was making your knees weak. He quickly found your G-spot, taking care to press against it as you arched into him. “Oh, oh, fuck, König,” you whimpered, coaxing a dark chuckle from him that made you clench around him.

Your thighs clenched around his hand, but he pried them apart with ease, forcing you to straddle him and rendering you helpless to his ministrations as he slowly dragged another finger in and out of you. With each achingly slow push into your dripping hole, he made sure to curl them just right, long fingers able to reach that sensitive spongy spot inside you effortlessly. His palm laid flat against your clit as he stroked your walls, letting you sloppily grind into his hand as he murmured praise into your ear.

“Does that feel good, liebling?” he asked, drinking in each of your breathy, pleasured noises with satisfaction. “You like making a mess on my fingers, mm?”

You simply whimpered, too embarrassed of your flustered state to form a real response. He seemed to pick up the hint, giving you a cocky smirk through his mask. “Ohh, it’s okay, maus,” he cooed, but his soft words were laced with a smug condescension that made your cheeks burn. “You look so pretty like this, all dumb on my fingers. I wish I could’ve seen it earlier.”

You whined again, desperately grinding down on his palm for more friction. His slow pace was torturous, giving you just enough to feel pleasure but not enough to build it. It was mean. It was twisted. It was agonizing. You were eating it up.

“Please,” you tried, teary eyes boring into his. “Can you—can you please—”

“Can I what, maus?” He cocked his head, darkened eyes twinkling with mirth. “Tell me, or I can’t help you.”

You know what I want, you wanted to shout at him, but you knew that wouldn’t work. “Please,” you begged, “I need more."

“What more do you need, maus?” he asked again. “You have a mouth. Use it.”

“Need you to—” You whimpered pitifully, dropping your head into his shoulder. “Please, need you to go—go harder.” You nearly sobbed out the words, desperation winning out over your embarrassment. You were mortified at your teary, shaking voice, but he seemed to revel in it, squeezing your thigh in appreciation.

“Oh, is that what you wanted?” he teased, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “You could have just said so.”

He set a steady pace with his fingers, bullying them inside of you hard enough to make you squirm against him. With each thrust, he curled them just right, sending your eyes rolling back and mouth falling open in heavy pants as you mewled into his shoulder. You were grateful to be spared of his intense gaze; you didn’t think you could look at him in the state you were in. It was mortifying just hearing the sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of your gushing cunt.

“Oh, maus,” he cooed into your ear as you trembled, keening at the stretch of his fingers. “You’re just so beautiful like this, you know. So fucking desperate and pathetic. I wish I could see you like this all the time.”

Would I like him to finger me like this all the time? Hell yes, you thought to yourself, but you couldn’t find the words to tell him, only able to whine and nod vigorously into his shoulder, lost in the feeling of his fingers inside you. You could feel yourself starting to reach the edge of your climax, grinding harder and harder into his palm and gasping with each spark of pleasure it gave your throbbing clit. You were so wet that you were starting to wonder if you’d been infected, too; each time he hit your g-spot just right, you felt more and more slick dribbling out of you and down your thighs. It was driving you insane.

“K-König!” You managed a cry of his name right before you came, clenching around his fingers as you bucked your hips into his hand. Breathy whines fell from your lips, your thighs shaking and seizing as you squirmed in his hold, feeling an almost overwhelming wave of pleasure wash over your body. The feeling was so intense it was almost painful; you hadn’t had an orgasm in so long, and the effect was palpable. His arms held you tight, keeping you grounded while you shuddered in his grasp, his big fingers determined to prolong your ecstasy.

When you finally came down from your high, you couldn’t look at him, mortified at your messy state. His fingers were still knuckle-deep in your arousal, and you could feel more of your slick dripping down your thighs, wet and uncomfortable. You kept your head buried in his chest shyly while your happy cunt stayed spasming in his hand.

“Okay, schatz?” he asked softly, using his free hand to tilt your head towards him. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You stared up at him, mouth open. There were practically hearts in your eyes; your adoration was clear to him, and he laughed at your expression, cradling your cheek with his hand. “Aww, schatz.” He clicked his tongue, a smile audible in his voice. “You’re so sweet.”

Your cheeks burned red at the words, and you blinked rapidly, unable to look away. His piercing blue eyes stayed trained on yours, but there was a warmth in them that soothed you. He petted your cheek, lifting his hood to press a kiss to your forehead.

Your mind felt fuzzy. All you could think about was your need to be filled by him, and you pawed at his hard cock, wrapping your fingers around the base of it. A hiss of pleasure escaped him, and you kept your eyes on his, wide and pleading. “Please fuck me,” you whispered, still trembling in his grasp.

König’s eyes darkened, and he tugged off the rest of your bottoms quickly. His strong hands lifted you to hover you over his cock, and you shuddered with anticipation, head spinning. He rubbed the tip through your dripping folds, coaxing out a gasp as it brushed over your swollen clit. You tried to push him inside, squirming, but his tight grip on the bottoms of your thighs kept you in place, and you whined his name, hoping he would take pity on you.

“Bitte, König,” you begged, and he practically growled at the words, mercifully allowing you to sink onto the tip of his cock and drawing out a desperate mewl. Even with how wet you were, he was so, so big that he was practically tearing you in half.

“K-König—”

“Hush, liebling,” he soothed, and you moaned as your core clenched around him, beacons of pleasure ripping through you from just the feel of him. He waited for you to relax and then pushed in farther as you gasped at his length.

“Mmph! König—” You keened as he continued to push himself into you, waiting each time to make sure you were okay. You could feel his hard cock twitch with each thrust, and you knew it must be difficult for him not to go straight into fucking you, that he was holding himself back to be more gentle. The thought only made you moan louder.

Tears slipped down your cheeks when he finally bottomed out, and he wiped them away with his thumb. “I’m sorry, maus,” he groaned, no doubt feeling the way you clenched around him. “You’re just—so tight—”

You wanted to tell him to it was okay, but from your already fucked out mind, all that came out was a dumb whimper of his name. In response, he pulled up his sniper hood to kiss your forehead, to which you whined and chased his lips with your mouth. This made him chuckle, and he guided your lips to his, coaxing out a soft moan as his tongue met yours. He tasted wonderful, and you mewled into his mouth, feeling even more worked up from the way he kissed you: hot and desperate and sweet, like the world was ending and you were the last ones in it.

“Mein maus,” he growled, suddenly thrusting up into you and making your eyes roll back. His hips snapped against yours, setting a pace that sent your thoughts reeling. “Taking me so well, doing so good for me, hm? Du bist mein schatz, ja?”

“Yes, fuck—yes,” you babbled, barely able to understand what he was saying. His unusually rough tone was fogging up your dumbed-out mind, the contrast between his sweet words and punishing pace reducing you to nothing but a crying, creaming mess. You’d never been this wet for someone before. “Yes, yes, yes, I’m yours, please—”

“Good girl,” he moaned, pushing you up and down his cock with dizzying strength. Your legs tightened around his waist as he thrust up into you, high-pitched and pitiful noises falling from your lips at a shameful volume. He was using you like a toy, you thought, and the notion of it made your pleasured cries even louder.

“Mmm, yeah? Mmm?” He mimicked your breathy moans, and you could hear the grin in his voice. Normally, you’d be mortified, likely retorting with some witty insult, but now? Now with the way he was fucking you, all you could do was whine in pitiful response.

“So needy for me,” he groaned, punctuating each word with a deep thrust. The sheer force of him made your eyes roll back, and you felt that tight coil in your belly close to snapping.

“Fuck, König—” You panted heavily, your legs starting to give out. “K-König, oh my God, I’m gonna—”

“I know,” he cooed, pulling you closer to his chest so your clit could find purchase on his toned abs. “Doing so good for me, schatz. Such a good girl, getting off on me like this. Like the way I feel, mm?”

His sweet praise became your tipping point, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. You cried his name, mouth falling open in shock as your legs kicked out, your cunt weeping and convulsing around him as you keened. You gasped for air as your orgasm rocked through you, the pleasure suddenly becoming all too much as he continued to drill himself into your gushing cunt.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed from the overstimulation, but he didn’t let up his pace, pressing chaste kisses to your lips to soothe you. “Wonder how many orgasms I can get from you,” he murmured. You could hear the smile in his voice as he panted. “How many more, mein schatz?”

“I—I don’t know!” you cried as his pelvis dragged against your clit, sending shocks of electricity through you. “I don’t—I can’t—”

He groaned as you trembled in his hold, pretty blue eyes boring into yours. “You can do it for me,” he replied. “I know you can. Isn’t that right, liebling?”

“Ahh—König—” The juxtaposition of his soft kisses and brutal pace was making your head spin. Too overwhelmed to answer, you just clutched onto his shoulders tighter, crying out every time his skin brushed against your puffy, overstimulated clit. It was painful. It was overwhelming. It felt so fucking good.

“Hush, mein schatz,” he coaxed, holding you closer as you clenched around his cock, babbling incoherently as he fucked up into you. “You’re doing so good, I promise.”

The answer was two. Two more earth-shattering orgasms before he finally went soft, coming inside of you twice before either (1), his dick just gave out, or (2), the poison wore off. Either way, by the end of it, you were exhausted and fucked out, still recovering from your cock-drunk state as he cleaned you up.

“I’m sorry, maus,” he apologized, sounding genuinely remorseful as he gently wiped your soaked thighs with a clean cloth he had found in the room. “I’m so sorry, I don’t—I don’t know what came over me.”

“Drugs,” you supplied, staring at the ceiling in exhaustion. “Really bad drugs.”

“Yes, drugs,” he agreed, carefully mopping your folds as you sighed. “But still—I am sorry. I was…overzealous. I hope I did not hurt you too bad.”

“I’ll be a little sore,” you admitted, glancing at the bruises his fingers had left on your waist and hips. “But I’ll be fine, trust me.”

He sighed, somehow managing to look resigned even with the sniper hood. “I should not have been so hard on you. I’m sorry.”

“Honestly?” you murmured, blinking at him sleepily. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

He froze for a moment. “What?” 

“Not that I’ve had a lot of sex,” you said quickly. “But still, that was the best I’ve ever had. Probably will ever have, now that I think about it. You must be very experienced. Oh God, I should not have said that out loud. I am—I am so sorry.”

Even with his sniper hood on, you could tell he was blushing. “Oh, um—it’s okay, maus.” You could hear the shyness in his voice. “I do not consider that to be my best performance, but I will take it as a compliment.”

“Your best performance?” You stared at him, mind running through everything that had just happened. You’d had sex before, but that—that was a whole ass experience. You’d never even dreamed about anything that good. “Christ, what’s your best performance, then?”

“Well,” he replied, sliding your soaked underwear back up your legs for you, “I would have taken you out on a date first, at the very least. That would be the proper way to court you.”

“Court me?” you repeated, sitting up straight. “I didn’t know you were so well-mannered, König.”

He looked away from you, shifting awkwardly from his spot on the floor. “I try to be courteous before sticking my dick in people.”

It took you a moment to realize he was joking, and you laughed—actually really laughed out loud. His awkward humor was charming you, and you felt warmth swell in your chest as you listened to him speak. You grinned at him, his eyes crinkling in a smile back.

König still smiled, but a hint of sadness pervaded his gaze. “Ah, schatz.” He hesitated. “I would have liked to make love to you,” he sighed, “but I did not imagine these would be the circumstances. I was hoping to take you on a date first, get to know you better.”

“You wanted to what?” Your eyes widened, and you blinked in confusion. “But…I thought you didn’t like me.”

König practically jolted in place. It was like you’d electrocuted him. He stared at you. “Why would you ever think that?”

“You talk to everyone but me,” you said softly. “I thought you didn’t trust me. Thought you hated me.”

“Hated—?” He shook his head vigorously. “No, I wanted to speak to you. You just…made me nervous. The others do not.”

“I made you nervous?” The words fell from your lips with shock, your eyebrows furrowing. “How would I—how did I ever make you nervous? You’re like three times the size of me!”

König shrugged, sheepish. “You’re very pretty. And you seemed…kind, and well-connected with the others. I have trouble finding that connection. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing to you and fuck it up.”

“So you said nothing at all.” You were quiet for a moment, turning over the information in your mind. “Wow. I was way off.”

“Yes,” he agreed, “but it is okay. I’m sorry for making you think I disliked you, schatz.”

“It’s okay,” you chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. You ran a hand through your hair, beyond shocked at everything happening. You couldn’t believe you’d fucked your colleague, the one you’d had a crush on for who knows long, and also discovered that he didn’t, in fact, hate you. “At least I know now.”

“Next time, I will be better,” König vowed, helping you tug on your pants. “More gentle. I will do things right, I promise.”

“Next time?” You hesitated, biting your lip. “There will be a next time?”

“Of course there will,” he answered, adjusting his tactical gloves. “Did you not hear what I said earlier?”

“Um…which one?” He’d said a lot of things earlier.

He helped you to your feet, towering over you as he cupped his large hand under your jaw. Your heart stopped in your chest as you looked up into his eyes, his large frame dwarfing yours beyond comparison. “Du bist mein schatz, ja?” he repeated, gloved thumb tracing over your bottom lip. His very soul seemed to ooze confidence. “That’s what I said, no?’

With the way he was making you feel right now, you didn’t think it was even possible to say the word no. “Y-yes,” you stammered, adoration clear in your eyes as you gazed up at him.

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “So there will be a next time. Unless, of course, you don’t want to.”

“N-no, no, no, I definitely want!” you said quickly. You stumbled over your words in your eagerness, and your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “I would like that a lot.”

“Good,” he said, patting the top of your head. Normally, you’d be furious at such an action, but considering his height, it seemed more practical than condescending. “Now come, schatz,” he said, adjusting his vest. “Time to deny everything to the rest of the team.”

Oh, fuck. You sighed. “Yeah…I forgot about that.”

[calliesmemes]

ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED QUOTES FROM TUMBLR TEXTPOSTS, X (formerly known as twitter) POSTS, TIKTOK, MEMES, AND OTHER SOURCES AROUND THE INTERNET

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   Currently considering becoming a bother and a nuisance, maybe even a menace or a rascal. ”

“   Hungry? Eat the government. ”

“   Yes, I wanna fuck after every argument. ”

“   Silence, you uneducated peanut! ”

“  They should invent a being alive that isn’t so difficult. ”

“   Women have to think I’m hot or none of this matters. ”

“   Due to personal reasons I will be named an enemy of the state. ”

“   Being overdressed is a myth made up by people who didn’t want you to have fun and be sexy. ”

“   What even are daddy issues? Just traumatize your father back. ”

“   I LOVE complaining! You can’t take that away from me! ”

“   I went to the silly goose convention and they all knew you. ”

“   I’m simultaneously ‘I’m tired of this grandpa’ and ‘that’s too damn bad!’ ”

“   The word ew coming out of a pretty girl’s mouth holds so much power … I think that it can tear apart nations. ”

“   Someone made fun of my shoes and the whole time I just thought of ways to push them out the window. ”

“   If you’re short, simply get taller. ”

“   I better think twice? Buddy I don’t even think once. ”

“   My off putting looks, awkward demeanor, and strange behavior have captivated you. ”

“   There’s something deeply, fundamentally wrong with you. Can we kiss? ”

“   You are a fool. When you walk, clown music plays. ”

“   I mean yeah he’s evil and all but what if I were his favorite? ”

“   I really do hate thinking. ”

“   In my defense, I simply do not vibe with the law. ”

“   I’ve done nothing wrong. Except all the atrocities. Besides that, I’m innocent. ”

“   Sorry I couldn’t hear you over my internal monologue. ”

“   Of course you have white hair and trauma. ”

“   So apparently the bad vibes I’ve been feeling are actually ‘severe psychological distress’. ”

“   Stop calling me a bad person just because I’m orchestrating your downfall! ”

“   The more lip gloss I collect the longer I live. ”

“   Sorry that I am obsessed with you in the unhealthiest way possible. As if it's my fault ”

“   The multiple failed assassination attempts against me have helped build both character and self esteem. ”

“   I could be your loser boyfriend. Do you ever think about that? ”

“   Accidentally went and got myself killed yesterday, but god wont let me die so I’m back ”

“   What do you mean napping isn't a good coping mechanism? What do you mean my problems are still here? ”

“   Academic validation is required for my sanity. ”

“   RIP to everyone killed by the gods for hubris but I’m different and better. Maybe even better than the gods. ”

“   Researching the stages of grief to see if I can get them finished in ten minutes tops. ”

“   My parents were like I’m gonna make a child that is so beyond help. ”

“   It’s not easy to admit when you’re wrong, and that’s why I won’t do it. ”

“   Why can’t this family ever have a funky good time? ”

“   How do I show people that I’m more than my unethical career choice? ”

“   I fucked my way into this mess, and I’ll fuck my way out. ”

“   You look so biteable today. ”

“   Why am I suffering? I have so many correct opinions and takes. ”

“   I AM HAUNTED BY A PAST THAT I CANNOT GO BACK TO! anyways ”

“   Challenging authority, angering gods. The family business. ”

“   Third base is me telling you about my father. ”

“   Hey girl. Plagued by terrifying visions? ”

“   Got caught giving a fuck. Embarrassing. ”

“   I didn’t ‘miss’ the red flags; I saw them and thought that they looked sexy. ”

“   Do my dark circles and deteriorating health make me look hot? ”

“   I get my news from the only reliable source, cryptic symbolism in my dreams. ”

“   Another day of being a bisexual disaster. ”

“   I’m going to let myself be a little unhinged today, as a treat. ”

“   Some of you act like murder is such a big deal. ”

“   You wanna hunt me for sport so bad that it makes you look stupid. ”

“   You’re not a girlboss unless you’ve killed someone. ”

“   It’s so weird how no one ever has correct opinions about things except for me. ”

“   Hello, my love — I mean, my rival ”

“   No one is calling me baby and it’s outrageous I can’t believe it. ”

“   No talking stage. Mutual obsession and you see god in my eyes or nothing. ”

“   I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOOKUP CULTURE DIE IN MY ARMS ”

“   Yes baby your emotional walls are high and impenetrable can we kiss now? ”

“   Affection is disgusting. Drown me in it. ”

“   I am gatekeeping my respect from you. ”

“   Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions. ”

“   I am equal parts fuck around and find out and please don’t yell at me I’ll cry. ”

“   Short legs, big butt. I’m a corgi. ”

“   Fuck being the bigger person; I’m going to start biting people. ”

“   Well that wasn’t very slay of you! ”

“   May I please get a crumb of affection? ”

“   I crave power! Please don’t yell, though; I’m sensitive. ”

“   You call it a near death experience; I call it a vibe check from God. ”

“   Here are some scissors. Now cut it out. ”

“   Might commit a little tomfoolery, maybe even some shenanigans. ”

“   All these flavors, and you choose to be salty. ”

“   How can I live, laugh, love in these conditions? ”

“   What if I said ‘to be honest’ but then lied? ”

“   I'm financially at a stage where I understand why people do fraud. ”

“   Yes I may be evil and morally corrupt, but I’m also incredibly beautiful and I think that makes up for it honestly. ”

“   Debates are stupid. Why would I want to sit down and argue with someone blatantly dumber than me? ”

“   I forget but I do NOT forgive.. I'm just walking around hating bitches can't remember why ”

“   Ding dong your opinion is wrong! ”

“   I’m coming for your kneecaps. ”

“   You dropped your nose you fucking clown. ”

“   Are you a fire alarm? ‘Cause you are really fucking loud and annoying. ”

“   Call me an escalator, because I let people down. ”

“   I love me a good lesbian scandal! ”

“   If you can’t run away from your problems, you’re not running fast enough. ”

“   Everything I want to do is illegal. ”

“   Don’t make me hit your ankle with my Barbie scooter! ”

“   I tell gay jokes because I am a gay joke. ”

“   Fuck! I dropped my mental stability! ”

[simpjaes]

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

[reidmarieprentiss]

Tummy

Summary: Spencer doesn't like the tummy he gained, you love it.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst

Warnings/Includes: insecurities, body image issues, weight gain

Word count: 770

a/n: i already want to eat spencer and then the tummy?? im starvinggg

main masterlist

You're completely obsessed with Spencer's tummy, and it's impossible to resist the urge to touch it. Whether it's squeezing it gently, planting soft kisses across it, or even playfully biting and pinching, you can't help but be drawn to that spot. Every chance you get, your hands find their way to his stomach, reveling in the warmth and softness beneath your fingers. It's an obsession that leaves Spencer both amused and endlessly flustered as you indulge in your favorite pastime—giving his tummy all the affection it deserves.

However, once Spencer's tummy starts getting a little bigger, particularly after his time in prison, he begins to find your loving obsession a bit upsetting. The weight he's gained, combined with the emotional scars of his imprisonment, leaves him feeling insecure and vulnerable. Despite all the affection you shower on him, Spencer can't shake the doubts creeping into his mind. 

As you reach out to Spencer, your fingers itching to make contact with his soft, warm tummy, he recoils slightly, his body tensing beneath your touch. It's a subtle reaction at first, almost imperceptible, but as the days go by, it becomes more pronounced. He begins to pull away entirely, turning his body to the side or gently pushing your hand away, offering you a tight smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

The rejection stings, even when it's cloaked in sweetness, even when he tries to play it off as nothing. You start to notice the pattern—how he avoids letting you get too close to that one spot, how his usual playfulness seems forced, as if he's battling something inside that he can't quite put into words. The distance between you grows, and the intimacy that once felt so natural now feels strained, as if there's an invisible barrier between you and the person you love.

Finally, one evening, after another attempt to touch him is met with a gentle but firm refusal, he can't take it anymore.

"Please stop touching me there!" Spencer's voice breaks, his frustration and discomfort spilling out in a way that surprises even him.

The tension that's been building inside you spills over, and you find yourself asking the question that's been gnawing at your heart. "Spencer, do you hate my tummy? Do you think I'm repulsive since I put on weight?" Your voice trembles slightly, the vulnerability in your question laid bare, as you search his eyes for an answer.

His eyes widen in shock, and he shakes his head vehemently, his own emotions bubbling to the surface. "God no! I would never think that about you," he says, his voice filled with sincerity, almost as if the mere suggestion pains him.

"Then why do you assume I would ever feel that way about you?" The question hangs in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken fears and insecurities.

Spencer looks away, his gaze dropping to the floor as he struggles to find the words. "I... I just feel like I'm not the same as I used to be. I've put on weight, and it... it makes me feel self-conscious. I don't want you to see me like that, to think less of me because of it."

Your heart aches at his confession, and without hesitation, you step closer, cupping his face in your hands so that he has no choice but to look at you. "Spencer," you say softly, your thumbs brushing against his cheeks, "I love every part of you, every inch. I don't care if you've put on weight or not. What I love is you—your mind, your heart, and yes, your body too, exactly as it is."

You take his hands and guide them to your own stomach, pressing them gently against your skin. "Do you hate this?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Do you think I'm repulsive?"

He shakes his head again, this time more slowly, as if he's beginning to understand. "No," he whispers back, his fingers trembling slightly against you.

"Then believe me when I say I would never think that about you," you reply, your voice firm but tender. "Your body is beautiful to me, Spencer. Every part of you is beautiful to me."

Spencer's eyes meet yours, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you see the walls he's built around himself start to crumble. He leans into your touch, and as you pull him close, you feel the tension in his body slowly melt away. In that moment, you know that while the journey to accepting himself fully might take time, you're both willing to walk that path together.

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tag list <333 @spencerreidsreads @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @reggieswriter @loumouse @mentallyunwellsposts @time-himself @chaneladdicted @kathrynlakestone @furrybouquettrash @hearts4spensco @gilwm @khxna @charismatic-writer @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg

[neopuppy]

Our Sick Story, Thus Far (M)

Teddy Bear—> (yes you have to read this first)

pairing. Jeno x female reader x Haechan x ?

genre. college AU, pwp, dark fic, angst, M/F

wc. 29k

warning. profanity, bullying, forced relationship, cheating, dr*g use mentioned, blackmailing, coercion, possessive/obsessive behavior, lies deceit manipulation etc, is anyone in this story actually a good person??(the answer: no), stockholm vibes. smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.

now playing. Our Sick Story(Thus Far)//Atreyu

a/n. it’s been a long time coming and I hope the wait was worth it for this story that I had no business writing to begin with😅

dedicated to the messages I received letting me know Teddy Bear made them wanna throw up. you are going to love this one! and @notncdeeh for consistently bothering me to finish writing this💚

smut warnings. dubcon/noncon elements(DO NOT read if that makes you uncomfortable. thanks.), Jeno refers to y/n as ‘Teddy’ often, no teddy plush shall be spared, dacryphyilia, humiliation, degradation/praise, oral, anal, rimming, finger sucking, sub/dom dynamics, switching, hair pulling, slapping, protected and unprotected sex, breeding, impreg kink/forced pregnancy, cock warming, hidden camera use, choking, mind break, surprise character smut(👀).

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･

Art class had taught you more than expected when you chose the extra curriculum for ‘stress relief’ as the school’s counselor put it, emphasizing how fast you will burn out if you don’t allow yourself one light work subject.

‘Paint me something pretty today.’ Jeno smirked near the entrance, stepping backward to keep his gaze on yours until he could no longer see you from the hallway.

Blue, sky blue. 

Jeno’s favorite color is sky blue, which he mentioned one day when grabbing you after class. The only one of your courses he’d been unable to transfer into because it’d interfere with his degree.

‘It’s a shame we can’t be together all day.’ Jeno traced a faded spot along the column of your throat while you studied color theory. A mixture of blue and yellow bruises speckled with red bits of gnawed skin. 

Art class has taught you many things, one being- you aren’t very artistic, and that much like the blue sky had turned darker earlier these days, so had your mind. 

Jeno rained trickles of blues into your favorite colors, he muddied a bright day, stained pools of misery around your world.

Sky blue is an ugly color, you think, because even as he smiled with an arm slung over your shoulders walking through the first drops of November rain; Jeno robbed hues of yellow and gold from the sun. He gathered red from the last days of summer heat and stormed through your life on a cloud tainting everything a miserable shade of black.

Art class had really become your everyday sanctuary, a time away from him. Time to pretend that Jeno had never invaded your days.

A time to daydream from aw you hid behind a canvas, imagine ‘what if’, and admire a student from across too focused on his work to spare you a glance.

and when Jeno would arrive ready to prance you through the halls as his play thing, his little toy, you couldn’t help but wonder..

In another life you could have fallen for Jeno. You could have loved him, developed a healthy relationship, formed fond memories to reflect upon together in the future.

But in this life, you hate him.

Hate may be a strong word, but as you sit across from the bane of your existence, you know one thing is certain.

You hate Jeno Lee.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･

Perhaps it is to your detriment that Jeno has made you feel nothing, unless numbness can be classified as an emotion.

By the round of omnipresent gasps and whispers that reach your ears each time you enter a room with him, it’s hard to not fixate on the way his presence alone stirs the first rumble of what can only be classified as a concrete shattering earthquake. Maybe that’s the problem, because even when Jeno’s arms are wrapped around your waist from behind, leading you through the cafeteria to sit at a table alone with eyes of vultures ready to pick your flesh apart inch by inch; you cannot find it in yourself to care. Not anymore, not even close, not even a little.

“I like it when you wear your hair down.” Jeno whispers, fixing your loose locks to one side. “It’s really cute how you think this is enough to cover yourself and hide from me.”

Bony fingers trace patterns of sadness atop the marks he’s drawn along your throat. “Pretty.”

Cute. Pretty. Meaningless compliments, because how could they hold any meaning pouring from a soul filled with nothing but darkness.

Even as you sit pressed to his side in the back of the library, you feel sick, scribbling a mental note to wear your hair up more often. His compliments replay like a broken record, scratching the way up your thigh to a cut between the juncture of your knee. Your teeth clench as you claw your jagged nails up your inner thigh, attempting to make the mental gash real just to feel something. Dig the wound deeper, much like Jeno’s sweet words strike similar to the tip of a blunt tip knife; aimed recklessly at your soul slicing through inch by inch. Cutting you open until your blood has been drained of all life.

His eyebrows furrow, gaze following along to your hand and slapping your wrist away. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I need to use the restroom.”

“Great!” Jeno pipes up, grabbing your bag. “So do I.”

“Jeno..”

Standing up, he smiles expectantly, lip quirked to one side daring you to speak out loud against him. It’s useless, you know better by now.

“Can we make it fast this time? The bell will ring soon..” you mumble quietly, walking alongside him toward the exit.

“Worried you’ll miss your precious little painting class?” Jeno nudges you toward the mens bathroom, grabbing a hold around your elbow as he steps in first. “EMPTY OUT!” He roars, followed by an urgent shuffle and toilet flushing as one of the new Freshmen you recognize scuttles out with his head ducked, toilet paper attached to the back of his sneaker. 

Jeno laughs breathily, entertained by the younger's fearful exit. The fear that he can instill in anyone easily with the snap of his fingers, or a mere glance. Turning toward you, he smiles, nodding to one of the stalls. “All yours.”

“That wasn’t necessary..” you say quietly, moving past him to find the cleanest stall available, nose scrunched in disgust as you settle on one and turn to shut the door. “Shit.” You startle jumping back, clutching at your chest.

Jeno latches onto the stalls frame, peering down at you. “No need to close the door Teddy, it’s only me.”

“Jeno, please..”

“You know I hate it when you do that.” Jeno swings his body back and forth, head shaking side to side slowly. “You said you need to use the bathroom?”

Locking your eyes to the floor, you’re at least thankful for choosing a skirt to wear today, lifting, sliding your underwear to your knees as you squat down and settle with your skirt fanned out over your thighs.

Jeno turns to laugh, rolling his eyes. “The way you still act so shy, like you’re ashamed..” 

As if he hasn’t defiled you and had his way with you in every which way he prefers. “Cute.” Jeno’s gaze traces up from your sneakers to where your knees clench together, running his tongue under the inside of his lip. “Done?”

Scooting closer, his arms drop down to his sides, shoulders appearing more broad from where he looms above you. “And look at that, with time to spare still.” 

Jeno grips around your upper arm, hoisting you up to your feet, panicked as you’d just begun to reach for the roll of toilet paper. “What’re yo—stop!”

Ignoring you, he flips you around to press your back against the stall, licking across his lips akin to a rabid animal. “Don’t worry about that, I’ll clean you up.”

He drops to his knees, bunching your skirt up to your waist as he perches one of your legs upon his shoulder, face burying between your thighs. 

“Jeno, don’t! That’s too—“

The drag of his tongue has you choking, squirming back to get away as heat fills your cheeks, completely mortified by the sweep of his tongue running up and down. “N-no!”

Jeno groans, face shaking side to side as he makes sure to cover each inch of the skin between your thighs, tongue greedily running rampant between your folds. “That’s so disgusting.” You cry, pushing at his head, nails dug into his scalp

Jeno rushes back with a hiss, eyes snapping open wildly as he apprehends your wrists and clutches around your forearms roughly, returning the feeling with his short filed nails. “Funny how you only shut up at the worst times.” Overpowered, he pulls on your arms to launch himself back up, twisting them around your back painfully to press you to the stall chest first. “So difficult.”

Returning to his knees, he flips your skirt back up, keeping your wrists tethered with one hand. “Thought you wanted to get to class on time?” Jeno’s nose drags between your bottom, sucking in a deep inhale. “Fuck.”

He groans, biting down on the cleft of your ass hard enough to leave marks behind. A new one to join the rest that he makes sure to add daily. “Nothing about this is disgusting.” Cupping one of your buttcheeks, he bounces the meaty flesh against his face, eyes rolling up as his nose dips against your tight ring of muscle. 

“Not there!” You wheeze, scrabbling to get away by uselessly scratching down the wall. 

“You’ll get used to it.” He rumbles against your core, lips circling your entrance with a lewd slurp; not missing a drop of your arousal beginning to drip out. “Ridiculous how good you taste.” 

Clapping your ass against his cheek without pause, Jeno’s neck bends back more, jaw opening wide to swipe his tongue from your clit to your hole, growling between short staggered breaths. Each drag of his nose slowly circling your rim humiliates you worse, biting down to keep in your complaints the more he goes for it. Splaying out his palm, he spreads your ass completely open, unveiling the taut ring of muscle clenching helplessly.

Jeno kisses at the backs of his teeth, drawing in a sharp breath as his index finger extends to tap and tease your rim, cheek dimpling to one side the more you fail to pull away. “You’ll let me fuck you here next, yeah?” He laughs, pushing your trapped fist into your lower back to form a deep arch. “Fill up all your holes, is that what you want?”

“N-no..” You grimace, face pressed to the chill bathroom stall. “Please, hurry, please.”

His tongue clicks obnoxiously, blowing on your rim before setting down a searing kiss, tongue smoothing around in a circle. “Why should I hurry? I don’t even get to fuck you.” He sneers, eyeing the time on his wrist. 

“Later,” you pipe up fast, rutting back against his face to convince him. “After school, we can.. do that..” 

His eyebrows shoot high, peering up in surprise. “Oh yeah? I’ll hold you to that, Teddy.” He bites down on your buttcheek again for good measure, nipping the skin roughly. “Now be good, and hold yourself open if you want to make it on time.” His grip on your wrist loosens, shaking off the sting left behind only for a second before he slaps your palms down on your butt and adjusts your position to expose both your holes. “That’s it.”

Thick arms circle around your thighs, biceps flexing to keep a snug grip on you as his hot tongue returns to your center and glides between your folds, inching lower until his lips can wrap around your clit.

“Uhhnnghhh..” you jolt, firmly tucking in your mouth to suppress a moan from soaring out.

Jeno’s hands swipe up the front of your thighs, gliding his mouth and nose from your wet hole to your clit with teasing firm flicks of his tongue; three of his digits find your bundle of nerves right as his mouth latches back around your entrance. His tongue buries deep, lifting your toes to curl up off the floor, knocking your forehead against the wall as you fight to keep in a desperate cry. 

He’s relentless, tongue expertly waving against your insides, the muscle strong and thick. “Ugh!” A whine breaks through your sealed lips, smacking the stall as he taps your clit repeatedly, urging you to break down and squeeze your release around his tongue.

Jeno draws out, mouth a mess of shiny wet, panting heavily. “Come on, give me what I want.” He slaps your clit roughly, spitting at your entrance before plunging in, nosing at your rim harshly as he struggles to breathe out of his nostrils. He grumbles between choked breaths, tongue working in and out of your hole with precise thrusts. Each rub to you rim, stroke against your clit, and incessant roll of his tongue inside of you shoots straight through your legs, ready to collapse if not for his arms keeping you held in place.

“Je—I—“ your eyes roll back, grateful that he can’t see the wash of pleasure pouring down your face. Turned putty under his ministrations as you clamp around his tongue shamefully, scratching down the stall in a weak attempt to get away.

Jeno drags out only to lick up the trickle that managed to escape his mouth, lapping your inner thighs clean with a deep moan. Each swipe of his tongue raises your humiliation up higher, hissing and jerking away when he reaches the cut along your knee.

“What is this?” He grips a hold around your calve, forcing you to balance on one leg to get an up close look and inspect how deep the wound goes. “When did you do this?”

“Don’t know, think when I ran down the stairs to meet you this morning the stair bannister skimmed my leg..”

He grunts displeased, setting your foot down to stand and kick open the door. “Come here.”

Jeno motions to the sinks, dropping both of your backpacks down next to you on the counter. “Does it hurt?”

He examines your knee closer, propping your foot to rest along the sink ledge, tongue poked between his teeth. 

“Why do you care?” You ask with a scowl, reassigning your attention to the bathroom floor when Jeno slowly blinks at you and reaches to open his backpack.

“Is that a serious question?”

“Whatever.”

He nods, huffing an amused sound under his breath as he grabs a pack of sanitation wipes. “This may sting but I’d rather you not get some infection, especially after scratching at it.”

He proceeds to lightly dab the wound, drawing a hiss between your teeth despite how gentle he’s trying to be. 

“You don’t have to do that,” you bite, leg jerking in his hold. “I won’t pick at it anymore.”

“Sure.” Pink lips purse together, delicately blowing over the area. “I don’t have much, but I’ll cover it up with some gauze when we get home later.”

Home.

Jeno speaks as if you live together, and you may as well at this point. Ripping a bandage open with his teeth, his eyes thin to place the non-sticky white where your flesh appears most harmed. “You’re mine now, I expect you to be more careful than this with your body.”

Squeezing up your calve, his thin digits dig through the meat of your muscle, trapping your bouncing gaze. “Maybe it’s best you move out of that shit hole you live in. That areas not well fit for a young girl to live alone there.”

“I can’t afford to move..”

Jeno’s lips gingerly land atop the bandaid, puckering to press a kiss. “I’ll figure something out.”

“You’re being weird.” You whisper, turning away from the sight of his pouty mouth continuing to layer kisses over your wound as if to heal you faster.

“It’s okay.” He draws your foot off the counter, taking a hold of your thighs to make space for himself to stand closer between. “It’s okay to accept it.”

Jeno’s eyes appear black as night, empty of any genuine thought or emotion, but even then your chest aches at the flicker of hope when he looks at you. It’s different, nothing you’ve experienced from anyone else. He looks at you like you’re..

“Special.” He whispers, pinching your chin as he leans in closer and his palm smooths over the covered wound. “Does it hurt?”

“..Would you hurt me?” Your lips move faster than you mind can register, asking yourself the question over and over again without realizing you’ve said it outloud. 

Jeno blinks slowly, taking in your nervous expression. Opening up his palm, he moves to cup your chin and keep your face visible as you try to hide away, slowly inching forward to connect your mouth to his.

The bell rings right before your lips can meet, dislodging the breath you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding. It’s easy to break from your thoughts and push yourself off from the sink, scoot around him fast with the excuse of being late. “My scholarship.” You constantly remind him, receiving nothing more than a roll of his eyes in return.

“Yeah yeah,” he trails after you out of the bathroom, voice low and threatening. “I’m holding you to what you said for later, don’t forget.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･

Jeno met Haechan the first day of Freshman year of high school.

Excited to show off a new pair of shoes with wheels attached on the soles, he rolled through the hallways to his first class. That’s when he noticed an on-slaught of senior girls running by in their short cheerleading uniforms. Giggling and waving as they jogged by him cackling from behind their hands- ‘hey freshie’.

All too distracted with a goofy smile on his face, he missed the shorter boy wandering ahead of him lost. An unfortunate collision caused their foreheads to bump hard enough for a bruise to show up on both of them by lunch. 

Haechan hissed, crashing flat on his bottom painfully; Jeno quickly apologized and helped him up. Little did he know they’d become great friends from that day forward.

Jeno’s not jealous of Haechan, not necessarily. He admires how giving his friend can be, really. If Jeno ever forgets to grab his packed lunch, Haechan will always offer to share. He’s always sure to invite Jeno over to play games whenever his dad purchases the latest gaming console. He’d even go as far as lending Jeno the shirt off his back if needed.

‘What are friends for if not to have you back in any situation?’ That’s what Haechan would say whenever Jeno felt rendered speechless by his friend's generosity. 

The thing is, Jeno had never had a friend like Haechan. He questions if he can even call his relationships with others friendships anymore.

Unlike Haechan, Jeno had trained himself to not share. Friends had only become burdensome with time. Always asking him to play with his toys, mooching from his delicious snacks, making a big deal over the new pair of sneakers he wore that day.

They liked him because he had nice things, but they didn’t actually care about him. They cared about materialistic bullshit, about his good looks, the designer name brand clothing he’d wear.

Haechan was different from all of them. One day he opened up and shared that he’d felt homesick. Vulnerable at the time after a long tiresome day of introducing himself to groups of snobby fake stuck up people. One even pointed out a manga on his desk saying- ‘I’ve only seen weird loners read that shit’.

‘I had a friend.. back home.’ Haechan had sighed despairingly, head dropped lazily on his bed; drained by the realization that this is his new life. ‘Well.. I wanted her to be more than a friend.’

Jeno watched Haechan over the next few years. His friend changed, reformed his persona to fit in with the standard; he adapted quickly to this new lifestyle. Days of asking Jeno if he’d like some of his lunch dwindled down to nothing; seemingly only irritated that Jeno could be so forgetful of he ever asked for his leftovers.

Things had only become more tense with time. Haechan had grown competitive with everyone. He craved to be the ‘it’ boy around school. It never phased Jeno, not really, he learned to accept the change in his friend. 

Then came the day Haechan decided that Jeno was his competition.

“Jeno, don’t you think this Cartier bracelet would look so cute on my wrist?” Sinclair waved her phone in his face. Wrist waggling out toward him, suggesting with her flirty batting eyelashes that he buy it for her; she had been on his ass for months dropping hints. “Perhaps you could finally ask me out with a gesture such as this?”

“He can’t afford that.” Haechan rolls his eyes letting out a breathy scoff by her side. 

“Of course he can, nothing a swipe of your dad’s Amex can’t cover. He won’t even notice it on the monthly statement.” Sinclair goes on.

“His dad’s broke.” Haechan corrects her abruptly, glancing quickly toward Jeno’s burning glare. “I mean, uh... don’t repeat that.” 

Haechan snatches her phone, waving off that he’d buy it for her when he takes her out come Friday. 

All it took was some stupid girl Jeno could give a fuck about for Haechan to let him down for the last time. It bothered him for months, imagining the various ways he could split his ‘friends’ skull open. 

“I won’t mention it again dude. It was a mistake, alright?” Haechan whispers standing near his locker after Jeno had resorted to the silent treatment for the rest of the week. “Listen, I’m sure she’s already forgotten. I’ll just take her to some overpriced restaurant and tell her I made that up because I was high or whatever.”

“You promised me you wouldn’t tell anyone.” 

“Promises are for children Jeno, I forgot alright? I’m allowed to make a mistake.” Haechan showed no remorse. Proving his promises to be empty, backed by no integrity, lacking worth and value. Jeno knew deep down Haechan only continued to befriend him out of guilt, he knew their relationship boiled down to nothing for the other at the end of the day.

He knew he had to do something about it, but he couldn't. He had to wait for the perfect timing. He had to leave Haechan defenseless. He needed to ensure no way for his father to find out of his plan. Leave Haechan with no way to snitch and rat him out, a threat strong enough to hold over his friend's head.

The day you came along everything fell into place. Jeno knew as he watched Haechan’s head lay on your shoulder from behind a bookshelf in the library, you clearly meant something to him. None of it made sense at first. Why would Haechan care about you of all people?

“Remember that girl you mentioned from back home?” Jeno decides to casually bring up the story he’d hardly cared about or paid attention to while gaming. His friend's throat cleared on the opposite end from behind his computer screen. 

“Yeah, what about her?” Haechan says, continuing to mumble curses as he goes on playing.

“Whatever happened to her? Did you two keep in touch at all?” Jeno asks, cursing at the screen to seem casually interested.

“Uhhh,” Haechan swallows, shrugging. “Honestly, don’t know.”

Liar.

Jeno’s teeth grit, holding back a laugh. “That’s too bad, you two were really close, I remember how tore up you were back then when you had first moved. Took you a while to get over it.”

“Man, that was so long ago.” Haechan waves off. “I was a kid.”

Raising a finger to silence their conversation, Haechan pauses the game, picking up his phone after the first ring. “Hey baby, nah I’m just with Jeno, yeah the usual.” Haechan proceeded to ignore him, the old friend he once cherished long gone now.

Just like you.

There are times you want to ask ‘Why me? Why me of all people? Out of all the girls withering away for a mere blink from Jeno in their directions, what the fuck made me matter.’

The unplanned vow of silence you’ve committed to halts those times your tongue itches to lash at him, and you listen, you listen well, very well. It’s to your detriment really, because Jeno adores that you listen, he loves the implication of the power he constricts you with behind your binded lips.

It’s also to his detriment that— for lack of better words, Jeno isn’t the brightest. Maybe he doesn’t want to come off too intelligent, you contemplate as he gushes on about his lost friendship; his favorite topic other than you really.

Haechan.

Jeno’s obsessed with Haechan, at least he’s obsessed with the fact that Haechan won. Between his foul rehashing of times his alleged best friend made him feel futile, it’s easy to decipher why it had to be you.

Not to make Haechan jealous, no. Haechan could give a fuck about you.

Jeno sees the precious memories of his former friend that he lost in you. The glint in his iris sparkles, satisfied by your raptured gaze as he wraps up his story.

“That’s why you’re so perfect.” He says proudly, capturing his bottom lip between index finger and thumb, massaging it while a hum rises up his throat. “Had to be you. You’re the answer I’ve been waiting for.”

The answer. What the fuck does that even mean, you squint, blinking it away fast. Jeno beams, pulling you closer to him with his arm snaking around your waist. “I like when you do that, makes me wonder what’s going on in that brain of yours. Something devious I’m sure.”

Carrying your bag, he hooks an arm over your shoulder, drawing you close as you venture to your next class together. “Hey.”

Maneuvering you around to face him, he stops at the classroom door, grabbing the attention of numerous students as he blocks the entrance making an awkward scene for you. “What are yo—“

“I love you.” Jeno announces loud and clear, receiving a round of gasps and an uproar of whispers. He smiles, cheeks lined with wrinkles, eyebrows raised as he waits.

“Wha—…” breaking off, you peer around quickly, sweat pouring down your back out of fear. Anger and an oncoming storm raging through your gut. “What.”

He lets out a chuckle, sighing as he hugs your back to his chest and proceeds to make way to your seats, further boiling the heat building up your chest. “My sweet sweet Teddy.”

“What the hell is wrong with you!” You hiss, throwing your shoulder into his chest to continue to your seat under the eyes of the entirety of your class. Rounds of whispers sing around you, the usual confusion you’ve become accustomed to laced between every shared word. 

He sits by your side, arm back around you in no time with a large smile, nodding and peering around the room to affirm that he meant what he just said. 

Every cell in your body wants to explode, throw Jeno down onto the ground and crush his face under your foot. The squeeze around your shoulder curls you in further, wishing to be anywhere but here.

“Cold?” He asks, knowing that you aren’t, it’s a mere excuse to wrap himself around you more. His nose nuzzles against your hair, taking a deep inhale with a suffocating possessive hug wrapped tightly you. “Can’t have my Teddy get sick.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ 

“Teddy.”

It’s shrill, nausea inducing, the way Jeno’s grown fond of this nickname for you.

The way he smiles and peers at you with some sick adoration as he calls you his teddy bear again.

While you feel trapped and disgusted, everyone else seems confused, peeved, and to be gossiping about the two of you.

Haechan’s girlfriend sports an ugly sneer when you walk by wrapped under one of Jeno’s arms; snapping the pencil in her hand into a broken half as he sets a kiss on your forehead, smirking at the round of gasps your schoolmates let out throughout the hallway.

“They’re all so jealous of you.” 

They are jealous of you, watchful eyes speak volumes following your conjoined figures heading toward the parking lot. 

Jeno has successfully transferred into nearly all of your classes, he picks you up and drops you off. Blows up your phone with texts and calls the second you’re apart. He doesn’t ask for updates or proof of what you’re doing, he demands it. Threats fall empty now, you don’t have much to say, he does the talking. 

You listen.

“Our assignments are due next week.” He mutters, pulling away from the school in an opposite direction from where you live.

Our. Mine. His. 

Nothing is yours anymore, Jeno made sure of that.

“I have to be home soon..” 

“Oh yeah?” He lets out a breathy laugh, drumming the steering wheel while sat at a red light. “Last I checked you only have to be with me, your parents only call to check in on you once a week. They don’t have to know your location at all times teddy.”

Oh but he has to know. He knows everything about you, every excuse and lie you can concoct shot down by weeks of evidence collected while studying you from afar. Far enough for you to never catch on, too clueless because of your own insecurities to ever fathom that someone like Jeno could be obsessed with you.

“Besides, today is a special day.” He exclaims, driving into a gated community full of large three story houses resembling suburban mansions.

“How could you forget?” Jeno parks, moving to unbuckle your seatbelt. He sighs, pinching your chin to look at him. “It’s our one month.”

He pouts, bottom lip jutted out while blinking dumb and slow. 

Sometimes you think that Jeno’s cute, and that makes you hate yourself more than anything. All you can do is avert your gaze, pretend he has no affect on you, keep up an act that he’s emptied you of any possible emotion; because he wants to destroy you. He wants you to feel helpless, wants you to rely on him because you have nothing else.

He’s pushing you inside of the house, digging into your knees from behind with his, built arms tightly wrapped around your waist. Suffocating you, that’s what he does, coating you in his scent, sucking out your energy throughout the duration of each day with the metaphoric needles he prickles you with. Every word that drips from his tongue feels like acid poured onto your flesh, burning through the layers to melt you deep inside until the pain goes numb.

His families house is enormous, spread out and fully furnished. Luxurious like some 5 star hotel, which Jeno hasn’t let you forget is only thanks to Haechan’s father for saving their ass. 

‘My dad can’t afford this place anymore. The bank owns our house by now, but he’ll do anything to keep up appearances.’

That’s what he mentioned during lunch one day, ranting about how he can’t stand the way everyone ‘keeps up appearances’ around here; snickering disdainfully toward the table his former best friend sat at.

‘Especially him. Fake asshole.’

Jeno stops you in front of his bedroom door standing by itself in the hallway he’s led you through. 

A dark empty hallway, away from all of the other bedrooms. Ominous and cold.

“You know the way, open the door teddy.” 

Of course you know, it may as well be your bedroom at this point.  

“I have a surprise for you.”

Jeno’s palms cover your eyes when you reach for the door handle, stiffening your spine as his chest knocks against your back to make you step further inside.

Inside of his bedroom it’s dimly lit, a chilled temperature; the air cools down your throat with every breath you take. 

“Do you like it?” He’s smiling against the shell of your ear, whispering softly. Revealing with the drop of his hands a giant plushie sat on his bed against the corner; a human size teddy bear.

He knows you don’t like it, even the question sounds like a dare; a dare for you to say that you don’t like it, that you don’t like any of this.

You especially don’t like Jeno, or the way his palms brush down your arms, shifting to your waist to gather your top up. Bunching at your stomach as he begins to remove it from your body.

“There's more, Teddy.”

Of course there’s more.

The tips of his fingers slowly trail between your breasts, throwing your top off with ease because you don’t struggle. You let him take off your clothes whenever he wants. 

Most times he doesn’t touch you much, but he counts, he memorizes. He traces over indentations from teeth buried into your skin and faded bruises left behind after fucking you roughly. He makes sure there are no others, only Jeno can mark you, only Jeno can see you like this.

He takes time discarding your bottoms, unbuttoning slowly, pushing the material down your hips even slower. Squatting down to his knees to pepper faint kisses on your hips and thighs as more your flesh comes to light; finishing off with a peck on your forehead when he stands and motions toward the plushie.

“Don’t you want the rest of your gift?”

You nod, just barely, taking a step toward the bed. Met with a hand clasped on your shoulder and a ‘nu-uh-uh Teddy’.

Jeno smirks, pushing on your shoulder. “On your knees.”

On your knees like the pet you’ve become. Crawling with your palms flattened onto the bed. Heating up knowing he’s behind you watching your underwear ride up your ass. It’s less humiliating now, he’s made you do worse.

A small black box sits between the teddy bear's legs, adorned with a glittery red bow.

“Open it.”

Hesitantly you pull apart the lid, pursing your mouth shut at the piece of jewelry inside.

A choker, a solid black thin choker you will no doubt have to wear around your neck everyday now. A choker with a teddy bear charm punctured in place through a small metal ring. 

“Ah, I can tell you love it already.” He chuckles, ripping the box from your hold. Shoving your hair away to lean close and lock the clasp around the back of your neck. Grazing the edge of his nose on your jaw and cheek as he does, a silent reminder that you are his, and he will do whatever he pleases with you.

Jeno has a sardonic smirk stretching his lips as he takes you in, fingering the charm dangling just beneath your throat.

“My teddy bear.” 

Tips of cold fingers trace your neck, following the pulse passing through your veins, it’s all just to push your buttons. Jeno wants a reaction, he craves your pitiful stares and miserable moans, he needs your pain to feel something.

You won’t give him that satisfaction, not anymore. 

He sighs, pushing your shoulder to nudge you in the direction of the large plush. “Don’t think I’m letting you off easily for forgetting our special day either.”

God. How could he possibly care enough about you to count down the days you’ve been ‘together’ or whatever he considers this. “Now, show me how much you love your gift.” He says with a wink, tapping your ass and nudging his chin to the teddy bear laid between his pillows.

This has to be some sick kink of his, and it’s impossible to forget what he made you do in that abandoned classroom a month ago..

“Just like last time.” He hums, moving onto the bed with his knees. “I know you remember.”

It’s not necessarily watching you grind against a toy that ripples blood through his veins faster, filling up his cock until it weighs heavy and hot between his thighs; but the saddened broken image before him, with your gaze lowered in shame as you mount the plush and grit your teeth. It’s the shattered feeble look of defeat that fills his chest with warmth more than anything. “That’s it.”

Reaching to smooth up your spine, he pushes at the backs of your shoulders, shifting closer to sit behind you on his knees. “Wanna see you ride it up close.”

He works to guide your hips down onto the bears stomach, pushing hard until your core meets the soft material and you let out a shameful whimper. Biting down on his lip as he slaps your thigh, squeezing up your butt to your waist with instruction to move.

It’s vile, rolling your hips down at his command, growing short of breath as the friction builds up between your legs and his strong hands manipulate your movements. Tears spring past the corners of your eyes the faster he makes you move up and down, grinding your core along the life-size plushie full of humiliation and fear.

“Your ass looks so fucking good.” He groans deeply behind you, rubbing down your back to cup your buttcheeks in a squeeze. Gripping and kneading, parting you open to watch your rim flutter against your panties with each pathetic hump against the teddy bear. “I know I couldn’t be your first time teddy..”

He leans in, chin resting on your shoulder to halt your movements as he dips in past the cleft of your ass to find your hole. “But I’ll be the first to fuck your ass.”

The gasp you try to keep mute still reaches his ears, softly chuckling against you as he adjusts and slides your underwear to one side. “Consider it your gift to me for forgetting our special day.”

Some special fucking day.. 

“You’re so wet already, doubt I’ll even have to prep you.” Jeno whispers, nudging the tip of his thumb against your rim. “Looks really tight, what do you think? Should I be nice and stretch you open first?”

“Please..p-please, I’ve never..”

“Shh shh, don’t worry, I believe you.” He chuckles softly, pressing the blunt tip of his length against your entrance. “With how tight that pussy is, I know you’ve never let anyone inside your ass. It’ll be a special memory only for us..”

Is it special? The tingle building in your stomach seems to agree, relaxing against the plushy to arch your butt out more. It has to be a Pavlovian response by now, conditioned to seek this pleasure Jeno provides you. Even if you hate accepting it. It’s not your fault that your body's natural response is to crave his touch, and spread your legs wider for it.

“I’ll be nice.” There’s amusement in the way he says it, like he doesn’t believe himself either. Slapping the mass of his cock down between the dip in your ass, cursing through clenched teeth. “You may not show it, but your cunt never lies.”

The bulbous tip swipes down, pressing against your clit, pushing your knees to slide open an inch more. It’s all taunting and teasing, running the fat cockhead between your chubbed folds, dipping it into your entrance just to watch you squirm and rut back for more. “Greedy pussy, acting like I don’t fuck you enough.”

He mumbles, smacking the underside of his length between your thighs. The wet clap stinging under the weight of his heavy size beating down on your swollen core. “J-Jeno..”

“Something wrong teddy?” He tuts, hips rolling up, gripping your buttcheeks to sandwich around his length. “You sound.. impatient.”

He gulps, trapping his cock under his thumbs to fuck between your buttcheeks faster. Wet tip prodding out, spilling precum down making the glide even easier. Each thrust passing over your pussy hole and rim makes your thighs tremble, burying your face deeper into the teddy bears neck. “Mmmph..”

“I know it hurts you Teddy..” Jeno’s words rasp against the back of your neck. Bending forward to paint your warm flesh with a coat of moisture. Sweat, raw sex and saliva combine, sticking your skin and his mouth together like hot glue. “Why do you have to be so good at taking it though? Huh?” 

Breath fans your upper back, the drag of his tongue races across your shoulders to bite down a groan on one. Notable effort to make you squirm and scream becomes more prevalent with each smack of his hips against your ass, grunting deeper the more he exerts. “It’s because you like me, right?” He asks between the sound of a struggled laugh, gasping with another slide of his thick length passing between your thighs. “You’re drenching me sweetheart, making a fucking mess of my sheets. You know what I’m gonna have to do later?”

He’s silent for a few seconds, panting heavily as his tongue trails to lick the column of your throat. The glide of his cock between your thighs is disgustingly loud, squishing and splashing in volumized echoes around his bedroom. “Your lack of response is becoming predictable, you know.”

His lower half snaps, protruding hip bones beat against your backside. A  gut crunching sensation curls up your chest, unable to deny the slick gush continuously leaking out of you and coating your ass and thighs the more frantic his motions become. “Can’t wash these sheets again, need to savor it. Remind you of how much you enjoyed it. How you finally gave in and accepted this fate.”

“N-no..”

“What was that?” Jeno asks breathlessly, gripping the base of his girth to position the tip against your rim. “You want more, don’t you?”

He presses in, watching his wet slit disappear past your asshole. “Ahh, no!! S-stop!”

He snickers, angling the tip to stretch your tight ring of muscle. “Relax. It’s going to hurt a lot if you don’t relax.”

“Please..go slow..” you sigh, biting on the plushy when he nudges more. 

“Be calm teddy. You want this?” He drags the sharp edges of his well-filed nails down your ass painfully, surely leaving marks behind. “Want my face shoved in your ass, huh? That’s why you’re whining so much.”

Jeno always has a way of speaking to you during these intimate moments. So cold and uncaring. The icy tone breaking your skin out in goosebumps. Even with your mouth sucking around the teddy bears arm, you whimper, the urge to cry spiking as he removes your panties and lands a sharp strike down on your ass.

“Bent over all pretty for me teddy, you arch that butt out like such a good little slut.” His palm smooths down lower, patting your wet folds to make you listen to how wet you are from this alone. “Who knows, after this I might not even bother with your pussy anymore. Have my own brand new unused hole to fuck now.”

He teases, swiping your clit side to side, dragging the tips of your fingers between your cunt to prod at your entrance. “You’re so wet, I love how fucking wet you get.”

A shaky breath leaves your lips as he twists two fingers inside and buries in knuckle deep, pressing his thumb to your asshole. “Such a perfect slut for me, ready to be my anal whore.” Jeno pulls out and lands a slap down on your rim, hard enough for the sound to clap out around his bedroom. Your hips drop from the sudden impact, biting down a scream into the plushy. “Enough of that, I wanna hear you.”

Wrapping around your waist, he manhandles you easily onto the center of his bed. Laid down on your back softly for him to get a good look at you, for you to finally see him. He’s big, broad, looming over you in the dim light illuminating from the corner of his room. The strokes of yellow paint across his chest and muscle, the darkness pronouncing deep indentations of muscle lining his abdomen and arms. Jeno falls forward, catching himself above you with his biceps bracketing your head, smiling as he leans in to kiss the fresh tears lining your cheeks. 

“As much as I wanna bend you over and fuck your ass like there’s no tomorrow.. “ he slows to kiss up from your chin to where droplets have pooled under the hollows of your eyes. Sucking up and kissing the wetness there, enjoying it more than you’d be able to comprehend. “Nothings better than watching your face when I fuck every inch of my cock inside..”

The pure joy glaring back at you from his dark glass irises rains more tears down your face, sniffling and shaking as he licks them clean and squishes your lips out. “Relax sweetheart, it’ll feel good for both of us. Promise.”

Thin digits run down from your jawline, tracing past your neck and over the mounds of your breasts. Jeno adjusts your position to haul one of your thighs up, using his shoulder to keep your knee pressed against the bed. He makes a show of bringing his hand up to his mouth, sucking around three fingers, dragging his sloppy wet tongue between each with laser focused eyes locked on yours. 

“You’re so good for me teddy, gonna let me use that pretty ass..” the way he holds you open exposes both of your holes, hovering past your swollen wet cunt to press two fingers against the clench of your asshole. “Just one baby..”

He presses the tip of one slicked up digit in, breaching the tight little muscle until you whine desperately. “Feels so warm..” Jeno’s eyes flutter, thick black eyelashes still visible in the low light. He sounds throaty, hungry, exasperated and needy. Quietly muttering to himself about how good your tight hole feels as he begins to pull his finger in and out slowly. “Bet your pussy was even tighter than this when you were still a virgin.” 

His voice comes out a lot more harsh, gravelly, guiding another finger in with the next stroke. They scissor through and flutter against your inner walls, tugging lightly at your rim as he dips out to the just the tips. “You’re opening up great for me sweetheart. Do you see how you always listen so good?”

Jeno sits on his knees like a predator catching his prey after a long meticulous hunt. Prodding another tip past your rim alongside the two, the muscles lining his arm rippling, exerting more strength to not push them in all at once. “Tell me teddy, are you desperate enough for me to even let me claim your ass?”

Your throat dries, pursing your lips together to quell the moan that nearly spills out. It’s a new type of full, sneaking peeks at the veins running down his inner forearm leading to the fingers working you open. A wash of shame and heat streaks down your limbs, shivering when Jeno draws his digits free, dangling them above your ass. 

“I know you are.” He lands another slap between your thighs, making your extended leg jerk. Fixing his angle to line the tip of his cock with your rim, the large blunt tip presses down, having to tuck your lips in to not scream. “..but I want to hear you say it.”

The head of his cock nudges in, pulling a gasp from your chest. Jeno bends closer to grab your jaw, shake your head around until you look at him. “Tell me to fuck your ass.”

“I’m—“ your voice sounds unrecognizable, squeaking out brokenly, overpowering the one you’re used to. “I—‘wan—“

Bending in closer, the pull up your hamstring burns, further pushing your leg against the bed. He pushes in another inch, the bulbous tip nearly fully entering, skin stretched taut around him. “You can do it, I know you can do it. Tell me sweetheart.”

“F-fuck—“ you pause, the last bits of your mind slipping away to another dimension. “Fuck m-my ass, please—fuck my a-ass.”

A sick pleased smile lifts the corners of his lips, bumping the tip of his nose to yours. Jeno doesn’t fuck the rest of his length in immediately the way you expect, slowly pushing each inch to savor the snap around his shaft. 

It’s when his hips bump against the backs of your thighs that you finally take in a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. Panting out heavily and wide eyed when you can feel the entirety of his cock fully sheathed inside of you.

It’s when Jeno begins to pull out that you bite down to keep in a scream, lifting up on his forearms caged around your head to watch his length draw free. It feels like he’s splitting you in two and he hasn’t even really gotten into it yet. It goes on like that for a minute or two, his head hung, black hair in your face, awestruck by your rim sucking around his dick each time he pulls out to the tip. He gains speed slowly, snapping his hips forward for the first time. Jolting your spine to arch up and finally release a tiny scream you can’t hold in any longer.

“Pussys making such a mess teddy..” Jeno rasps, throwing his head back, pink lips hung open. “Fuck, you’re dripping down to my balls. Love getting fucked up the ass.”

Every thought racing through your mind dissolves, blank and empty as you crane your neck to the side to get a look at what he’s going on about. Embarrassment flushes down your face, unconsciously clamping down on his length plunging in faster. The powerful snap of his hips rocking you deep into his bed, surrounded by Jeno Jeno Jeno. His smell, his touch, his mouth and his meaty girth stretching you open. It’s become something you expect, something you’d feel weird without now, Jeno. 

It burns when he buries in deep, grabbing onto the back of your knee for better control. The stretch feels more and more overwhelming with each pass of his cock manipulating your tight ring of muscle further. Digging his knees steadily into the bed, he picks up the pace and kicks his hips forward to fuck in to the hilt.

“Love fucking your ass. Love fucking you.” Jeno’s eyes clench shut, blinking quickly to open them and shove his forehead against yours. “Love you.”

God it makes your stomach churn, half pulled into a pleasure that feels too good to be true; sickened by how good it feels to be impaled by his fat cock. Half suffocated by the rushing swarm of emotions lassoing your brain, tightening until you feel ready to burst. And Jeno again with the fucking L word, dropping it like nothing, making sure you feel each syllable through his girth splitting you open. 

The push and pull against your clenching rim feels painful, feels good, makes your head spin. He eats it up, licking across your lips, trapping the bottom between his teeth to suck on. Nose dragging down your cheek, lapping the tears, sweat and spit painting your face. It should feel disgusting, you should feel repulsed, but this behaviors become so standard now. Jeno’s like a puppy sometimes, burying his face in your neck, searching for a place to lay new kisses.

Even during these times when he’s on top of you, pushing his cock in deep enough to bruise your cervix, your fingers itch to touch him. He usually does it for you, grabs your wrists and forces your hands to drag down his face, kissing the inside of your palms and wrists.

He seems more intent on kissing you right now, letting ragged breaths fans across your lips between light pecks. “Can you cum like this?” He asks, murmuring against your mouth. 

“I—I d-don’t know..” you really don’t. It’s your first time and the pleasures surging all over in different directions, racing between pain and confusion back to arousal and need. 

“You can.” Jeno whispers, lowering his face to your neck, gaze focused on your connected lower halves. “You’re so wet.”

Fingers trail down your stomach, softly skimming over your clit before easing between your folds. He sinks two inside, thumb rubbing your clit in a simultaneous motion, filling you from both ends. “Ugh! Yeah just like that sweetheart..”

Jeno snaps forward, trying to match the rhythm of his hips to his fingers. He bites down on your jugular, panting heavily against your throat. The burn of the stretch crashes against waves of pleasure, twitching up with each rough rub at your clit.

“I’m—I’m c-cumm—“ the sob you break off into has him moving faster akin to a feral animal. The weight of his bulky frame lands down on you hard enough to make his bed shake, headboard slam against the wall. Each brush of his thumb at your clit feels more sensitive than the last, sending you over the edge, mind blank beyond the grip your ass has around his cock. “Ahh!”

The wetness spilling out past his fingers slides all the way down to your lower back, further solidifying your humiliation. Because he’s right, you are wet just from this, loving your ass stuffed full. Drowning in the sensation of his length ramming in and out.

“Squeeze that fuckhole around me so good teddy, cum cum—“ Jeno chants manically, throwing his hips down rough and fast. Pressing down your clit harshly between viscous flicks, rolling the stiff nub until your toes curl. 

You spill over quickly, writhing under his weight as the pressure of wetness pushes his fingers out of your cunt. The orgasm rolls through you like no other, rolling your eyes to the back of your skull. Thinking you’ve passed off into the afterlife if not for the way he draws back and pounds into your ass.

“You like it?!” Jeno’s expression morphs into one of anger, black eyebrows furrowed together. He grabs your face again, chasing after his release still slamming his cock in deep. “You like getting fucked up the ass?”

The questions pointed, furious. The face of frustration and anger only there to mask how close he is to falling apart, reaching a new high as he charges to the peak. 

“L-love it, yes..” you barely whisper, tear filled eyes blinking the moisture away to watch his features contort and crumble. His pace turns erratic, breath quickening fast enough for his chest to beat up and down. Letting out a deep growl, Jeno comes to a still, mouth hung open letting a chopped up groan roll off his tongue. His cock thrums wildly against your inner walls, flooding your ass with warm white cum you’ve had poured inside of your cunt for weeks.

The little sounds dripping from his lips sounds anguished, whimpering when he thrusts in one more time to ensure his cums evenly painted your insides. “Love you so much..” 

His eyes fall shut, nose dug into your cheek catching his breath. The tips of your fingers tingle again, itching and burning to comb through his soft dark locks, to smooth the sweaty strands off his forehead. It feels like the right thing to do.. maybe with anyone else.

But you want it to feel right with Jeno..

He grumbles, littering kisses down your cheek to the corner of your mouth. “Gonna pull out, okay?”

You don’t respond, not even a nod, only hissing through your teeth as you gape and the now cooled down semen trickles out of your ass disgustingly, really cementing what you’ve just done. What you’ve let him do to you again.

Jeno hums softly, laying by your side without a worry, seeming pleased and full of life judging by the small smile on his face. “Happy anniversary teddy.” He reaches for your hand, scrabbling to entwine your fingers when you try to pull away.

“What’re you thinking about?” He murmurs, shifting closer to your side as you curl into yourself to get further away. “I don’t even have to ask. I’m sure I can throw out a wild guess..”

He lets out a long sigh, huffing a quiet laugh. “You’re not as good at masking your emotions as you may think.. You have to erase those old memories you have of Haechan. He’s not a good guy.” Jeno remarks, nudging his elbow against your side. “He’s a bad person.” 

“You are no better..” You accuse, a bit surprised, whispering with your mouth pressed against his bed. The last person you’re thinking about right now is Haechan(..maybe). Jeno’s smile only grows wider, tickled to hear you talking back finally.

“There’s a difference between me and him.” He says surely, slinging an arm around your waist, hooking his chin over your shoulder as he presses in close to whisper. “He changed to please everyone. I just don’t care anymore.”

“You’re both terrible people..”

Jeno sighs, smile still evident in his tone, leaning closer kissing your ear. “I love you.”

“Stop saying that.” You mutter, digging your elbow back to push space between you.

“Why would I do that?” Smoothing your arm down, he kisses the end of your jaw, licking your earlobe. “I love you, I know you won’t say it back, but that won’t stop me from letting you know that I love you.” He cozies up against you, yawning. “Get some rest, we have that test to pass tomorrow.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ 

Jeno has that look on his face again, the one that shifts from raunchy to feral hunger, the one that has him reaching to grab you in less than a second.

“I’m still sore..”

“I barely even touched your pussy.” He says cocking an eyebrow, phone dinging in his pocket over and over again. “Was I too mean teddy?” His palm swipes down the curve of your ass, cupping your buttcheek.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

He groans, smacking your butt lightly before reaching to free his phone.

“Shit, my dad’s blowing up my phone.” He huffs annoyed, swiping through paragraphs of text messages. Most yelling at him in all caps lock for not answering his phone. “He needs me to pick up some files from his home office, says it’s urgent. Something about an accident..”

Frustrated, he hoists his bag and adjusts yours on his other arm, nodding toward the end of the hall. “Come on.”

“Jeno, the test—I can’t!”

He sets you with a look that nearly makes you crumble, ready to succumb and follow his orders. “Please, you know my grades..”

Dragging the tip of his tongue between his teeth, he sighs deep and loud, pinching the skin between his eyebrows together. “Fine.”

What?

He looks irritated, upper lip twitching stretched over his teeth trying to control his anger. “But I’ll try to come back later to pick you up. If you take longer than a minute to reply to me, I swear to fucking God—“

“I won’t!” You almost add a ‘thank you’, biting down on your tongue to stop yourself. “I’ll keep my phone within view shot in case of anything..”

Jeno rubs at his temples, shoulders visibly trembling. “Fuck. Whatever. Fine.” 

He stops to take in your elated expression, cupping your cheeks, thumbs caressing your soft skin. “Don’t forget, I love you.”

You won’t say it back, he knows you won’t, but he waits for a minute, a flicker of hope passing behind his gaze. “Good luck on your test, I know you don’t need it teddy.”

He leans in and kisses you, full control on his end. Making a real show of it by shoving his tongue down your throat right in the middle of the hallway where everyone watches and whispers nasty remarks. He wants them to see, he wants certain people to see especially. Public display of affection had never been something you enjoyed, or even experienced before Jeno, but he made it something you had to learn to endure. 

“Be good.” He says quietly, warningly, slipping your bag from his shoulder. “I’ll see you soon.”

You nearly risk being late to class just to watch him leave, having to run to make it on time. The first time you’ve been alone in days, weeks even. Sitting down at your desk with a sense of relief, a crippling weight lifted off your spine. This test would be a breeze without him there to breath down your neck.

It is really crazy how you turn to the empty seat next to you numerous times though, fully expecting to see him there waiting for the next answer. Finishing off your exam without handing it over to Jeno to ensure he copied all of your answers felt odd, peering at your phone over and over again expecting notifications only to have none. 

So. This is life without him. Normal? Not anxiety inducing? Nothing to fear or worry about..

You should know better though, exiting your class blindsided by Haechan leaping in front of you, hooking his arm around yours. “You. In here. NOW.”

“Haechan?! What the hell!” You cough, waving at dust that lifts from the janitor closet floor. Cleaning supplies and clutter surround you, setting in how claustrophobic you feel when he slams the door shut and locks it.

“We need to talk. Right now.”

“About what?!” Pushing him off, you stumble back and glare. Watching his face fall at the sight of your anger.

“About this.” He says, reaching for the charm adorning your neck, flicking the teddy bear. “What’s this bullshit all about? What are you dating Jeno now?? What the fuck is wrong with the two of you.”

“The two of us?! There’s nothing wrong with me?! It’s your fault any of this is even happening to me!” You screech, slapping his hand away. 

“My fault?! You low lives are threatening to ruin my future and it’s somehow MY fault??” Haechan bellows, grabbing your upper arms. 

“Low lives?” 

He scoffs, shaking you with his firm hold. “Don’t change the subject! What the fuck if your problem, huh? Are you making him do this? You two need money that badly?”

Haechan could have just asked about your relationship with Jeno if he really cared. He would have noticed how different you’ve been looking and acting if he really ever cared about you.

“Everything’s about money to you..” you mutter, gaze hanging low. 

“To me?! I’m the one being threatened here!” He says in disbelief, burning holes into your face with a crazed look. “I don’t need any money from you or him.”

No. You don’t need anything, do you? Everything’s about you. You you you you…

Jeno was right all along.

“You seriously think I want your fucking money Haechan?!?” You shout, breaking out of his hold to shove him back. “What about me, asshole?!? Do you even give a shit about me! No, you don’t! Because I embarrass you that much, huh?”

“What are you even going on about.” Rolling his eyes, he grabs your wrists before you can pummel him with your fists, teeth gritted. “Of course I give a shit about you, why do you think I’m here?! He’s always hovering around you! It’s impossible to get near you anymore.”

“You’re only here because you think I’m weak.” 

“Weak?” Haechan repeats, tossing your arms down. “He’s really brainwashed you, yeah? Made you believe I’m the bad guy here? I’m not the one money hungry enough to destroy years of friendship over some petty jealousy!”

“He hasn’t brainwashed me.” You snap back, nearly adding a lie to make yourself feel better. He doesn’t talk about Haechan that much, and he’s not that jealous..

“Oh yeah? Than what the fuck is this?” His fingers aim for your choker again, sliding the tips under to press along your pulse. “Wearing a collar like a good little bitch?”

“It’s a gift.”

Haechan’s mouth parts in surprise, cocking an eyebrow. “You really like that psychopath, I can’t believe this.”

“Fuck you.” You bite back, wrapping around his wrists. “You have no right to assume anything about me.”

“And me? What about me, huh?” He says soft and low, leaning in closer. “I thought you liked me.”

“You did?” You ask, a bit surprised. You hadn’t made it that obvious, right?

“So, you don’t?” Haechan’s gaze flickers to yours, peering between each of your eyes confused. “Ever since we were kids I thought..”

“Do you like me? Did you ever?”

“Always, I always have.” He says surely, tugging out of your grip. “Not that it matters.”

“W-Why?” You stutter, feeling heat rush to your face. “Because y-you won’t do anything about it? Because I’m nothing but a low life, right?!”

Haechan steps closer, locking you in place against him with his arms tightening around your waist. “You’re not, okay? I’m just mad about Jeno..”

You hate getting angry, because you hate to show how weak you really are, cursing at the first batch of tears that pour from your eyes. You punch at his chest, letting out a tired sob. Tired because of this, everything, tired of holding onto something you never had. “It’s all your fault. He wouldn’t even care about me if it wasn’t for you.”

“What’s my fault?! That your boyfriend’s a certified nut job??”

“This isn’t about him! He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Oh yeah?” Haechan squeezes you in, inching his face closer to yours. “So, you won’t care if I do this.”

The same lips you dreamt about for years come closer, a breath away from finding yours. He pauses to watch your reaction, eyelashes fluttering up and down expecting you to do something to get away. Because Jeno’s girlfriend wouldn’t let another guy kiss her, especially not his new enemy.

It’s nothing like your dreams when he finally goes for it, he’s not soft and nice, he doesn’t move against your mouth like he belongs there. The kiss is rough, fast, sloppy, needy and aggressive. He sees his chance and takes it, sliding his tongue in past your lips as you gasp, lowering his hands to your ass with a fierce squeeze. His dreams had been to strip your innocence, watch your fall apart and scream while he fucked you deep. Nothing like the fairytale stories you’d imagined. Each pass of his tongue against yours indicates his desire, forcing your arms out of his hold to reach for his hair, fisting it and pulling as hard as you can.

“Ahhh! Ahh! Stop!” He whines, lips already swollen. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You sneer, coiling tendrils between your digits, pulling until his neck arches back and a high-pitched squeak breaks free from his mouth.

“I knew it.” He grits, eyes thinning into a glare. “You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”

“Is that what this is about?! You just need to have everything Jeno has?!”

“You are the one falling for that freak.” Haechan spits, slapping your ass. “Everyone knows Jeno fucks like a fucking crazed beast, you’re not as innocent as I thought.”

“I’m not fucking him.” Technicalities..

“Yeah? And why should I believe you?” He plays with the hem of your skirt, tickling at the skin there. “You say that you like me and yet here you are holding back. I think you’re a liar, trying to protect your crazy boyfriend..”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” 

“Yeah?” Haechan steps back, leaning against a shelf full of cleaning products. Reaching below his waist to unbuckle his belt. A bulge sits beneath his zipper, slowly lowering it with his eyes on yours. “Get on your knees.”

“What!?”

He snickers, shoving his boxers and jeans down under his balls. “I said get on your knees.”

He has the audacity to wear a cocky grin, tilting his head back onto the shelf as he begins to gently stroke his cock to full mass. You have to look, have to lick your lips at the sight of his length beginning to chub up in his hold. It’s not enough to subside your anger, marching forward to slam his shoulders back against the shelf. “Who do you think you are?!”

“A guy you like.” He says, voice low, staring at your lips. “A guy who likes you.”

This certainly isn’t normal by any means, you know that, but that doesn’t stop the extra skip in your heartbeat. Doesn’t stop your eyes from trailing down Haechan’s face to where he sucks on his bottom lip, letting it go and bounce shiny with spit. “Now.” Reaching for your mouth, he slides a thumb across your lower lip, pushing down on the fatty center. “Get. On. Your. Knees.”

There’s a cruel edge to his tone, watching you crumble and slip down onto the floor, eye-level to his length. “Don’t act surprised. This is what you want.”

You don’t know what to say, watching your knees settle on the ground before looking up. He strokes at his size lazily, the tip right between your eyes. Nowhere near as big as Jeno, that’s for sure..

“You’ve always had such a pretty mouth, always used it to talk so much shit.” He smirks confidently, bringing the tip closer to your pouty lips. “What are you waiting for?”

Haechan even smells rich from down here, clean, trimmed pubes, a slight musk wafting off his sack. Jeno’s a little different, he’s always hairless, always smells clean in a soft and inviting way. You think he keeps himself extra tidy to entice you more, but maybe that’s just him. Maybe this is just Haechan..

“D-do you have protection?”

“Huh??” He says, surprised, shrugging and reaching for his wallet. “Yeah, whatever.”

He sounds a little ticked off, flicking the condom at your pressed together thighs. Not putting up an argument either way. It’s been awhile since you’ve had to use one of these, and as you unwrap the package you start to wonder why.. 

Clearing your throat, you nervously reach to grip around the middle of his length. It’s not as heavy in your hold, not as thick, a lot smoother with less prominent veins. The condom rolls down fine, aided by a layer of lube that will surely taste disgusting sliding down your tongue. He’s hissing above you, eyebrows scrunched together focused on your hands and robotic expression, wondering if you’re lying about everything..

“Come on.” Haechan says desperately, reaching to thumb your lip again, a lot messier and more eager. “You want my cock, don’t you?”

Leaning in, you test the feel of it, sliding the tip across your upper lip. Slowly craning your neck up to watch his face fall apart. “Say it. Wanna hear you say it.”

He grips your hair, fingers tingling through your scalp, forcing your neck back further. Plump lips hang open above you, breathily moaning, stuck on his cock dragging your lower lip open. “Say you want my cock like the pathetic fucking slut you are.”

That flicks your eyes open fully, rising from your knees quickly with a tight grasp around his size. “What did you just say to me?!”

Haechan’s jaw hangs limp in shock, letting out a shattered moan when you pull at his length roughly. “Turn the fuck around.”

He listens without even trying to resist, grabbing onto one of the shelfs with your fist still circled around him. “S-sorry.. I thought..”

“Shut the fuck up Haechan.” Grabbing his wrists, you loop them both back and trap them in place against his lower back. Reaching lower with your free hand to smooth over his ass.

“Now, repeat that? What did you just say to me?”

He shakes, turning his face to the side to watch you from the corner of his eye. “Nothing nothing! I take it back!”

“Are you sorry?” You whisper, nipping at his jaw. Fingers skimming between the crevice between his ass.

The vibrations soaring off his body intensify, trembling harder, breathing through his nose gruffly. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He chants, breaking off into a whimper.

He doesn’t know what you wish he was sorry for. Delivering a slap to his ass and watching it bounce back against the collision, you hum lowly.

“Come here.” He’s easy to whip around, shivering from head to toe excitedly. Ankles weak to walk on as if he could cum already, making it easy to push him down onto the floor. 

“Fuck, you’re crazy..” he whimpers, laying back and kicking his legs to get his pants off. He looks more pathetic than the first time you ever met him, sobbing under you, crying for you to let him go. 

“It’s your fault.” You mutter, pushing your skirt and underwear off to mount his hips without restraint. “Wish I’d never met you.” You hiss, reaching for his chin to dig your fingers into his cheeks. He blinks up at your blearily, the bright light above you staining his face in a white translucent shade, eyes lost and glossy. He’s pretty, so so so pretty, makes your chest burn and ache. He’s always been pretty, eyelashes fanning across his cheeks slowly with each blink, plump lips shoved out for you to capture. 

“You’re so sexy.” He mutters, struggling under your rough grip. “If I’d known—“

“If you had known what?” You sneer, slapping his cheek hard enough for his head to snap to the side, eyes bewildered and surprised. 

“Fuck you’re..” he spits, bending forward at his neck to watch your core sit down on his length. “Ahh.. shit I’m still!—” He splutters, head dropping back, hips rutting up as you start to slide against his cock. 

It’s easy to take control and feel powerful on top of him like this, shifting back to grab his knees and push them up. “Stay still.” You demand, using force to push the pits of his knees down and hold yourself up. Haechan whimpers from the change in position, feeling small and confined under your figure sitting above him. 

“Fuck I’m—not gonna last long. You’re too much.” He’s such a whiny sniveling mess, drooling down his chin, cock twitching against your cunt.

“You like that?” Hoisting yourself up against his legs, you lift enough to line the tip of his cock up to your entrance, hips trembling as you begin to lower and breach your hole. 

“Ahhh! Fuck!” Haechan screams pretty, high-pitched, unashamed. His head tosses back fully exposing his Adam’s apple, dainty collarbones. He’s nothing now, nothing but a groveling whore begging to be fucked.

“Say it.” You say full of threat, struggling to keep yourself held up, clawing your nails into the sides of his knees. “Beg me to fuck you.”

The softest cracked moan spills from his red juicy mouth, face dropped to the side looking at you with half-lidded drunk eyes. “Please please, please fuck me.”

He’s nothing, and he could easily be yours.

It’s so easy to mount him, to bury the rest of his length inside of you. It’s less of a struggle to take him than you’re used to, filling you to the brim with a wet splash against his pelvis where you land. He whines and moans through it, making you work to ride his cock faster. 

Haechan looks brainless, gorgeous, stupid as fuck with his tongue hung out lavving at the drool pouring from the corners of his lips. Sweaty hands push yours off his knees, holding himself open wider to free your hands. The burn running up your thighs calms as you grab onto his chest and ball his shirt between your fists, short of breath the faster you work to fall into a rhythm. 

“Faster, come on, fuck me faster!” He grunts under you, voice loud and ragged over the thunderous clap of your ass crashing down on him. 

“Shut the fuck up whore.” You bite, reaching to wrap around his neck for better leverage. Pretty brown eyes go wide, gasping for breath as you tighten around his throat until his head shakes and he sounds empty of air. His cock thrums wildly, urging you to slam down harder, rock your hips faster. The veins along his forehead expand the more he struggles to breathe, mouth hung wide open like nothing but a dumb slut. “Only sluts get off f-from being choked.”

He nods weakly, coughing and groaning, sweaty fingers slipping on and off his legs. “Yes yes, ahhh g-gonna cum.”

“If you cum before me I’ll bite your dick off.” You spit out angrily, freeing his neck to clasp his chin and bury your fingers inside of his slutty mouth. “You useless slut.”

Haechan’s eyes roll back, tongue lapping between your digits, balls colliding with your ass with each heavy thrust. “Ah—ahh!” He gurgles and spits, making a mess around your fingers. “Pl-please!”

The hold on his knees slips free, arms flopping down to his sides, legs landing on the ground hard with rapid tremors shooting through. “Shit!” You grunt, stilling as his length pulses and warmth fills the condom, sliding off before any of it can pour out inside of you. “What did I fucking say?!”

Anger and arousal combined feel similar to a slasher film. Murderous and frightening, craving death around the corner as the music changes to warn you as the next kill approaches. Haechan lays under you out of breath, face covered in sweat and saliva, cock pathetically twitching against his stomach. “Selfish.”

Snapping the condom band into place, you settle back down on his length, making him shout out and shake his head. “No no! That hurts!”

“I said shut the fuck up.” Bending in, you reach for his hair, fisting handfuls to pull on and control the speed of your hips. So useless, so stupid and useless, you deserve better than this. Better than someone who can’t even control his own needs to make sure you both finish and reach pleasure. 

Tears brim his eyes as you rock down and roll your cunt against his half-hard soaked cock. The friction of creamy wet rubber rutting against his length more painful than enjoyable at this point, springing droplets down his cheeks. 

“You’re so weak.” He nods, has the nerve to agree with you. Biting down on his plush bottom lip to compress a sob, glossy eyes blinking tears out faster. 

The broken sight of him sends shivers up your spine, jabbing the tip of his cock against your clit in rapid motion until your hole convulses and draws out a much deserved orgasm. 

“Holy shit..” he wheezes out breathlessly, the back of his head hitting the floor painfully as you abruptly release him and move to the side.

Satisfaction courses through your veins, along with something else weighing heavy on your mind..

That was.. interesting. Is that the word you’re looking for? Interesting.

Patting the floor for your skirt, you immediately grab your phone. Jeno hasn’t texted yet. Even more interesting, something really must be wrong with his dad.. you should send him a message first. He might need you right now. Why the hell do you care about what he needs..

“Hey, let’s keep this between us.” Haechan disrupts your inner monologue, patting your shoulder. “Don’t need Jeno seriously spreading those photos around and whatever else he’s blackmailing me with.”

“Does your dad know about your drug use?” You ask, sliding your arm away from his touch.

He frowns, nose wrinkling annoyed. “Why the fuck would he know about that?!”

Because you’re a spoiled brat. Surprised that daddy even cares about his privileged son ruining his future, blowing his father’s hard earned money on more white shit to snort up his nose.

You shrug, buttoning up your shirt. “I guess you have a lot of secrets.” 

Like me. 

You are one of Haechan’s secrets if you think about it.. his secrets stemming from shame it seems. Because he’s ashamed of you, of the part of his life you remind him of.

“Whatever.” He scoffs, standing uncomfortably, nervously scratching his head.

“Don’t worry.” You reassure, picking up your belongings and grabbing the door handle. “There’s nothing your secrets can provide for me. See you later?”

His frown deepens, chewing on his bottom lip and shrugging. “Whatever.”

“Goodbye Haechan.”

You leave first, emotions unsettled and scattered as you walk down the hall to your locker. It’s nearing the end of the day, thankful that Haechan only made you miss gym class. Jeno always takes longer to fuck you, he likes to make sure you always get off, sometimes he doesn’t even finish..

Jeno. Shit.

‘Waiting for you by the north gate entrance.’

Shit shit shit. What the fuck. Jeno said he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to pick you up today, or that he’d try to, whatever. Not even a heads up?! Nothing to warn you??

Fuck, what if you smell like Haechan?! Knowing Jeno he’d be able to tell. There’s no way you can come up with something quick enough to get him off your ass, another text alerts you demanding for you to hurry up.

‘If you’re not out here in the next 50 seconds I’m coming inside.’

Fuck. You really fucked up this time, fear picks up your pace to jog through the hallway corridor faster, dodging your classmates bodies left and right until you near the exit short of breath and look out to see your… Jeno, stepping out from the driver’s seat.

“There you are.” He smiles, a big smile, the type that reaches his eyes. The one that’s for show, for others to coo and aww at. The one that garners close-to-ear whispers behind hands and eyes bouncing back and forth from you to Jeno.

‘Why her?’

Everyone asks, everyone wants to know. You never asked before, until one day the voices broke you down and found yourself constantly asking- ‘why me?’

You’d never ask Jeno, you never ask him anything.. but right now, as you nervously force your lips into a measly smile, the cramp forming in your stomach nearly makes you trip down the grass hill leading to where his cars parked awaiting you with the passenger door open.

“That’s funny.” Jeno says under his breath, leaning in to wrap around your waist. “You never smile at me.” He whispers near your ear, taking a step back to look over your face. “What’s up?”

The way his head tilts scrutinizing your face makes your chest cave, lips pressed together tightly as his eyelashes lower over his iris the more he lowers toward your neck; the collar of your shirt saves you of any fear that Haechan left behind any incriminating evidence of what took place less than an hour ago.

“Hmm..” Jeno reaches forward before you have a chance to react, tugging you closer by the fanned edges of your collared shirt. “Now why is your top button undone..”

He can see the way your throat jumps, hollowing out between your collarbones with each dry nervous swallow. “And your necklace.”

Your choker, he means. Fuck your choker. The lucid memory of Haechan angrily pulling on the teddy charm adorning the strap squeezing your neck makes your teeth grit, hidden behind your quivering lips. 

“Strange.” Jeno’s eyebrows gather together, the gleam in his eyes darkening despite afternoon sun illuminating down on him, highlighting every defined flawless attractive feature. “You’ve never disobeyed me this much before.”

“Wha—“

“You know you’re supposed to always have this uncovered. Why did I dip into my savings and risk getting chewed out by my dad? For you to try to make me a secret?” Jeno finishes buttoning your shirt back up, digits reaching beneath the leather to adjust the charm’s position while adding more pressure, losing the tiny centimeter of space between your neck and the material. “Did something happen while I was gone?”

“No!” Your reactions too fast, fast enough to fully widen his eyes, mouth tensed as he meets your gaze. “I—I had to.. to participate..”

“In what?”

“Physical Ed.. you know I always sit out with you.” Jeno watched your choice of physical activity: yoga, for less than a week before deciding this form of education benefited you in no way. Something about those ridiculous yoga pants you wear for class only seemed to distract a group of guys in the weight lifting class across the gym. He concocted doctor's slips for the both of you to sit out and study instead. “Coach didn’t let me today.. she said there's no way my period cramps last all month. I must have forgotten to fix my necklace after getting dressed, I’m sorry..”

Jeno nods, smoothing his thumb over your warm cheek, hot from anxiety rising the longer you stand there and risk the chance of running into Haechan on his way home. “That bitch. I’ll deal with her tomorrow.”

He pauses again, a contemplative look taking over as he reaches for your hair and smooths down fly aways. “No wonder you look sweaty. Must have been working hard, using all of your body and stamina.” Jeno’s tone lowers to a whisper, gently pressing under your lash line. “Even smeared your mascara..”

“I really should take a shower.” You say, managing to speak quickly without stutter. “Didn’t have a chance to after gym class and the air conditioning must have been broken or something in the homeroom.”

“That’s fine.” Leaning in, his nose presses to your jugular taking a deep inhale. “I like it, smell like you just got fucked.” Reaching for your lower back, Jeno moves you forward toward the passenger seat, the facade of a nice boyfriend(or whatever he is) vanishes with the turn of his head. 

You learned quickly to let him do what he wants after receiving nothing but hard stares to shut you down. Jeno wants things done his way, even buckling your seatbelt is his responsibility.

The engine vibrates as you wait for him to settle into his seat and back out of the parking lot, just barely missing Haechan’s exit by a few seconds.

It’s silent on the way to his home, tense and thick. Maybe it’s guilt, your guilt, guilt you can’t understand carrying to begin with. Why should you feel guilty? Does Jeno deserve that? Is it really because Haechan didn’t feel like Jeno? Because he didn’t make you relinquish control, didn’t make you feel special? Is that what Jeno does? He makes you feel like nothing else matters more than you?

Biting your nails raw, down to the rough neglected skin beneath until the tips of your fingers ache, you’re unsure if it's the silence that bothers you more or your spiraling thoughts screaming louder and louder. “Was everything okay? With your dad?”

Jeno comes to a stop at a red light, tapping the steering wheel, lips parting open into a half smile. “I didn’t think you’d ask me.”

He doesn’t turn to look at you, only glances from the corner of his eye, sleek and cold. “You never ask me anything.”

A dry breathy laugh passes through his nose, stepping on the gas again as you near the neighborhood you’ve become more familiar with than your own by now. “Did you miss me that much today, teddy?” He’s grinning, stoically, and if you blink too long you’d miss the way his head shakes in disbelief. 

Shutting off his car, he turns and reaches for your chin to lift your face up. It’s your best effort to appear as nothing, not display an ounce of guilt or shame, but not smile or stare back too long— because that would be out of character. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

The gleam passing his gaze is damn near unnerving, adjusting your face side to side as if he’s inspecting for damage. “Did something happen while I was gone?” 

The most you give him is a barely noticeable shake of your head, gaze lowered to your lap, nothing too out of the ordinary..

Jeno leans over the space between you, turning your gaze back to him, digits spread out along your jaw for more control. “I think..”

He presses closer, forehead connecting to yours leaving just an inch of space between your nose and lips. Lips that left behind their moisture and shine on another man, a mouth that you fear may still carry remnants of his taste. “My teddy..”

Jeno’s lips graze yours enough to hitch your breath, shutting the seam of your mouth shut. That doesn’t stop him from cupping your face, overtaking power and pushing your lips forward with the pressure of his palms squeezing you in. “You are starting to like me more than you realize.” 

He kisses the swell of your pout, biting his lower lip for a second to admire how swollen and worn your mouth looks; as if someone has sucked on the fleshy fat roughly. Someone reckless who could give a shit about you. “Or at least more than you’re ready to admit.” 

Jeno lets go, leaving you gasping for breath as he sits back and studies your reaction. “Kiss me.” 

It’s not a question, it’s not even a demand, he’s too relaxed. It’s expectant, because you’ll listen to him, if you know what’s good for you; and you do.

There’s no way to crawl between the front seats without it being awkward, having to reach for Jeno’s thigh to keep yourself sturdy. He huffs to mask a laugh, turning away when you direct your pout toward his lips. “Kiss me the way you really want to.”

He knows you don’t want to, but he doesn’t know why; and maybe that’s where your guilt stems from because you can still taste Haechan between your teeth; and the pink flush spread across his mouth stirs a need up from your stomach to your chest.

“Go on.” Jeno’s head rests against his seat, eyebrows raised waiting. You manage to slip onto his lap after banging your knee into the cup holder, gripping onto his shoulders to align your weight onto his crotch. The same way he likes to hold you in the evening while playing games with your head laid on his chest. 

Jeno kisses you everyday, he kisses you. You could trace the shape of his lips with your eyes shut at this point, subconsciously you even notice whenever he reapplies chapstick from the light menthol scent and taste alone.

There’s something you’ve noticed over time as you lean in and breathe out nervously across his impatient mouth. Jeno never looks away first, he watches for your response to everything, silently analyzing the tiniest smallest movements. He has to, because you give him nothing, and he does it well. Even now with your eyes falling shut too nervous to look at him up close, he stays tuned in to your bottom lip trembling, the little twitch between your eyebrows and how much your hands shake while gliding up to his neck.

This shouldn’t feel like your first kiss with him, not after everything, but it does. You are the one in control for once and you’re the one applying pressure. Taking time to feel out just how soft his lips actually are when they aren’t roughly prying your mouth open to shove his tongue inside. The tightness beneath your palms even seems to relax the more you move between top and bottom lip, gently sucking and pulling them between yours. 

Jeno doesn’t move, he even lets his hands rest by his thighs despite itching to gather your waist and grind you down against him. He wants to see how far you’ll go on your own, especially after today; because maybe you needed this time apart, albeit only a few hours, but maybe you needed to be alone to understand just how much you need him.

“I’m not a good kisser..” you finish with a light as a feather peck at the corner of his mouth, dropping your face embarrassed. “It’s better when you do it.”

Oh? He perks up at that, giving into his desire with hands encompassing your waist. “You are good, you just..”

He rubs up and down your sides, letting out a long sigh while looking you over. “You don’t like me, right?” Jeno bites down a smile, nodding to himself. He knows you’d pour your soul into a kiss with Haechan, you probably dream of some ridiculously romantic rekindling of your relationship with some ridiculous scenario: fixing all the damage with one kiss..

“That’s not it—“

“You don’t.” He nods again, an accepting nod. 

And it’s okay, because you still have hope, somehow you still have so much hope that Haechan will save you from this. That your stupid childhood first love still carries you deep within his heart the way you always have, because you have so much good left inside of you in spite of every obstacle put in your way. Jeno likes that, that’s why he befriended Haechan in the first place, because good people are rare to come by.

But Haechan is not a good person anymore, and soon enough your spark will die out too.

“It’s not that Jeno..”

“Let’s get inside, I ordered takeout, should be here soon.” He says with an ordering pat pat pat against your hip, unlocking his door for you to exit first. “You hardly touched your lunch today.”

“Is it okay if I take a shower first?” Having to ask makes your stomach churn, mumbling behind the tips of your fingers finding their way back between your teeth to bite down on your nails.

“Stop doing that.” Jeno gently pries your wrists away, opening the door to his bedroom. “You never shower until after we fuck.”

“Like I said.. the air conditioning..”

Jeno eyes you skeptically, huffing and grinning. “You think I’ll care if you smell a little?” He’s back on you, encasing your waist as he bends in to drag his nose along your throat. “I think you smell sweet.”

“It’s not that.. I just feel gross.”

And you do, you feel extremely gross. More disgusted with yourself than you’ve ever felt after allowing Jeno to defile you. The more you try to push away what you’ve just done, the more unsettled you feel by all of it.

“You wanna change?” He places a light kiss upon your cheekbone, moving away to sit at his computer chair. “Grab whatever you want to wear. Don’t take too long though or your food will get cold.”

Part of you wants to stand there and argue, claim that you aren’t hungry despite the rumble your stomach gives at the mention of warm food; but a hot shower to wash away the remnants of Haechan’s spit and other fluids depletes any will to bother Jeno any longer. 

“Are you sure?” You ask, skimming over the drawers lined up against the other side of his bedroom. 

Jeno hums, already logging on to play league and waving you off. “Yeah, wear whatever.”

Showering in his bathroom had become very standard, like he said you typically prefer to after the act, but today’s different of course. His bathroom is much nicer than the community one shared by multiple people at your shitty studio complex. The studio you rarely spend much time living in anymore ever since Jeno forced his way into your life. 

There is something inside of you that sighs out of relief under the shower stream, stretching your arms out and up high freely, enjoying the quality of bath soaps and shower gels he keeps stocked. Jeno always smells nice, fresh and clean, not smokey and suffocating the way Haechan did..

The memory of his luxurious musky scent has your palms traveling lower, reaching for the shower head to thoroughly clean away any possible trace of him left behind between your legs. 

Jeno would go ballistic if he knew.. you aren’t even sure how he’d react, and you don’t want to find out.

“Food’s here?” You ask quietly, still drying your hair by the bathroom door connected to Jeno’s bedroom. He takes a minute to answer, engulfed in the game playing across his computer screen.

“Just got here.” Jeno says, hitting pause to look at you. His lips loosen, jaw opening as he gazes from your feet taking short steps forward to your bare legs and his pink hoodie hanging past your hips. “Wow.”

“What?” You pause, looking yourself over nervously. He said to pick whatever you want to wear, you even double checked with him. He can’t be mad right? Maybe this is his favorite hoodie and now—

Jeno’s eyes soften, scanning up and down your figure as he reaches out and rolls his seat forward to grab your hips. “You look really cute.”

“Oh..” heat drives up your neck, lowering your eyes to look away from the pleased smile that tugs at his lips.

“I should make you wear my clothes more often.” Jeno squeezes up your sides, drawing the fabric to follow his touch and lift over your hips. “Come here.” 

Leaning back, he motions for you to climb onto his lap, a bag of steaming hot food sits at the corner of his desk waiting. “But the food..”

He lifts one groomed eyebrow, responding with a silent command to do as he says before he makes you regret it. 

“We’ll eat first.” Jeno wraps an arm around your stomach, tugging your back to press against his chest as he reaches for the bag. “Put on whatever you want to watch.”

It’s times like this in his bedroom, as you ease into his hold and pout when he swirls noodles around a fork to feed you with that you can’t help but to feel something. 

Something you can’t bring yourself to accept, because that would make him right about everything.. 

That’s what makes it harder to eat, harder to sit still and let yourself grow too comfortable, harder to laugh when something funny happens on the TV show you chose. 

Jeno can’t win, even if he continues to prod your mouth with another spoonful of rice, and softly smiles before licking away a piece from the corner of your mouth. “You’re so cute.” He mumbles, pushing the boxes of food aside. “Turn around.”

“Do we have to?”

Large palms run up your thighs, squeezing as they find a way between your legs to the fleshy meat lined along the outsides of your groin. “You’re cute, but don’t test me.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･

Jeno’s been extra clingy ever since that day he had to leave earlier. You can’t say you hate it.. and maybe it gives you an excuse for why Haechan’s been completely avoidant, not looking at you once. You wanted to wave at him, say hi as you passed each other, but with thick biceps belted around you at all times you knew better.

He could just be ignoring you because of Jeno.

He could just be ignoring you because he doesn’t give a shit.

“Really do hate that I have to spend the next hour and a half without you.” Jeno sighs sadly, kissing your cheek. “Fucking hate Philosophy too.”

“It’s just one class.”

“One class that’s stealing precious time I could be spending with my girlfriend.”

There he goes again, that bullshit title he keeps using. It’s almost worse than his constant love bombs. “Second bells about to ring.” You mumble, shoving his arms off.

“Yeah yeah, I know you can’t wait to get away from me.” He pouts, leaning against the door frame, glancing behind you at the area he knows you often set up at. Eyes squinting as he observes one of your classmates. “I’ll be here when you’re done. Be good.”

Or else.

The silent haunting echo follows you to your seat, apprehensively setting your bag down with a subtle peak toward the door to make sure he’s gone. 

“How’s the research going?”

A deep voice startles you, jumping up and dropping your belongings. “Crap.”

“Ah, that’s my bad.” He crouches down before you’re even squatted halfway, long hands reaching to gather your brushes and pencils. “Was just asking how the papers going. I really think we should get together to make sure we’re both on the same page. I don’t want you to hate me if we get a bad grade..” 

“Get together?!” You splurt out abruptly, coughing on choked spit. “Outside of class??”

The thing is, Jeno didn’t really know about Jisung Park. Why would he? He’s not in this class.

He didn’t know that part of the reason you loved this class so much wasn’t because he’s not in it. No(although that helps). It’s because from the first day you noticed Jisung sitting quietly free-hand drawing beautifully, you wanted to compliment his sketches, get to know him better; ask if he’s always had an interest in art..

But you didn’t, instead you shyly hid your face and looked away whenever he’d glance around. Sure, maybe you happened to notice how attractive he is too, but that didn’t matter to you. It’s not like you had a crush on him or anything..

And it’s not like your stomach exploded with butterflies as everyone paired off for your final project for the semester, leaving you nervously taking steps back and forth looking for anyone available.

Jisung approached you first, asking quietly and shyly. ‘Do you have a partner yet?’

That’s how you ended up here, your norm for the last week being to sit by him during class so you could exchange ideas and work on your final project together. 

And that crush you didn’t have ended up becoming very very real. Jisung.. he’s nice, really nice. Genuine and thoughtful, he always asks how your days been, if you have any plans later on, tries to get to know you with curious and non-invasive questions.

It’s easy to bond over your love and appreciation for art, and he thought it was cool that you once dreamed of illustrating mangas(until capitalism and reality set in). He sparked light around the dark corners you hide in. Your secret, something only for you, something Jeno couldn’t ruin or touch..

“Yeah. You can come over to my place tonight? My parents both work late hours so we shouldn’t have any interruptions.”

An invite to his place, where you’d be alone. Only the two of you, no Jeno..

“Your place? Tonight?”

“Yeah? If that’s okay with you?” Jisung smiles apprehensively, reaching to scratch at his sideburn. “I’d like to keep my perfect GPA intact.. it’s okay if you can’t, I don’t mind completing the bulk of it myself.”

“No no, that’s not fair.” You wave him off, biting at your nail. “I’ll uhm, yeah—no, yeah, I’m free later. Write down your address.” Sliding him your notebook, you reach for your phone to text Jeno under your desk. This is for school, for your perfect GPA.. he needs to be understanding.

Jisung perks up and scribbles down where you can meet him after school, clapping his hands together. “I’ll set some snacks out for us, I’m sure we’ll be working hours into the evening.”

Hours into the evening.. Jeno won’t like that.

Jeno doesn’t like that. Immediately shooting down your messages with a flat out ‘no’.

It came down to begging, explaining to him on the way to your next class how important this extracurricular course is for your future internship applications, even your counselor said that. It’s not a good look if you only excel in your non-creative courses, unless you plan to apply for a job that requires zero social interaction and teamwork. 

‘Good luck with that.’ Your counselor mumbled, signing you up for this art class in the first place.

“The whole purpose of being here is for you to finish partnered work here.” Jeno snaps, shaking his head. “Who’s your partner anyway?! Why haven’t you mentioned this until now??”

“We only barely received the project yesterday!” You lie, looking at anything else but him. “My partner.. Hani!” Thinking fast you blurt out the first classmate you can think of, praying to yourself that Jeno doesn’t know her.

“Hani?” He repeats, seeming pleased to hear a girl's name. “And what time are you supposed to meet?”

It took further convincing, a little bit of bribery, maybe you skipped Yoga to suck him off in the bathroom. But it worked, Jeno seemed at ease after hearing that your classmate Hani was counting on this project to keep her grades up. Your scholarship requirements too, sure.

“Call me when you’re done.” He says, parking on another street nearby you’d given him directions to, just in case..

“Of course.. it might be late.”

Jeno grumbles, leaning over to kiss you until your lips feel bruised and tender. He kisses like it could be the last time he’ll ever see you, but that never makes you react. He always kisses like that..

“Love you.”

You nod, stepping out and waving him off, letting him know that Hani takes the bus home and you’ll have to wait a few minutes longer. He seems hesitant to drive off at first, only finally taking off out of the street when his dad calls him about something.

Phew.

Panic and fear get shoved down as you make your way to Jisung’s actual address. You shouldn’t be this nervous, it’s just a project..

With your crush, alone, together, only the two of you. That’s why you stand at the front door to his house for a while, shifting from foot to foot, playing with the strings of your backpack.

Jeno would be really mad if he found out about this. What would be worse? Lying? Or Jisung? There’s no way he would have allowed for you to come here alone, without him. Lying was your only option..

Taking a deep breath, you reach for the doorbell, gasping as it flies open immediately.

“You made it!” He smiles, toeing off his shoes, still wearing the same outfit from earlier. “I just got in myself, had to jump the backyard fence because I must have dropped my key, sorry. Were you waiting long?”

“Oh no.. it’s fine.” You mumble, passing through and removing your shoes quietly. He seems even taller now, walking next to him in nothing but socks. 

“You must be hungry, let’s raid the pantry real fast before heading to my room.”

His room, you’ll be alone in his room..

Jisung’s a couple of years younger than you, and it’s evident when you step inside of his bedroom and take in the different toys he has scattered about; moving around to throw his jacket over a pile of stuffed animals displayed in one corner.

“Shall we?” He says, motioning to sit at his desk, dropping the bags of chips and cookies he found. “I’ve already wrapped up the bulk of writing, and cited everything, we just have to go over key points for our presentation.”

“Oh, that’s great. Thank you for doing all of that.” You smile, sensing heat rise up to your cheeks. His parents must not use the air conditioning much..

He snorts breathily, shrugging. “You seem really busy, with your boyfriend and all..”

“He’s not my boyf—he’s,” trailing off, you shake your head and grab your notes. “Let’s focus on this so we can try to finish early.”

“You’re always with him..” Jisung sits up awkwardly, playing with his knuckles. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed anything. You’re right, let’s uhm, get to work.

To your surprise Jeno doesn’t blow up your phone with texts, and you think about his dad again. He never did tell you what happened that day.. he should share personal things with you if he expects you to start trusting him. To build some solid type of relationship with him. The skin around your nails practically screams and begs to be left alone as you bring your fingers up to your mouth and begin to bite at anything you can find. He should have texted you by now..

“Something wrong?” Jisung asks, ruffling his fluffy black hair. “You seem a little distracted.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“We’ve been working for two hours,” he nods, setting down his pen and organizing what you’ve finished so far. “Let’s take a break, I can really use one too.”

A break? Your eyes widen, following his figure as he stands and stretches his arms up, tight shirt lifting up his stomach halfway giving your curious gaze a real show. “Come on, our brains are probably in overdrive after a day of classes and now this, you should lay down for a bit.”

Lay down?!

Motioning to his bed, he smiles and directs you to follow with his chin. “Come on, I won’t bite.” He says sitting down, patting the empty space next to him.

Oh, but you might. 

Stealing one more glance at your phone, you set it screen down on his desk, getting up and pretending to yawn. “You’re right.. sometimes I don’t know when to stop.”

Jisung laughs lightly, falling back and letting out a long sigh. “Me too, my grades mean a lot to me. I’m trying to get an internship this summer at Lee Corp.”

“No way!” You say excitedly, staying sat up on his bed and leaning on your palm to look at him. “I am too! Which program are you going for?”

“Engineer of course, they pay the best out of everyone in the country. Did you read that Forbes article? Haechan’s father must be a genius.”

You hum, brushing off the comment about Haechan, he’s the last person you want to talk about right now. “I was thinking about Global Affairs.. I really think a lot of their apps could expand and excel in foreign countries.”

Jisung laughs, smiling up his eyes, clasping his hands together on his stomach. “Look at us trying to relax.. we still end up talking about work.”

“I guess you’re right.. I’m not the best at, uh, relaxing?”

Jisung sits up on his elbows, eyebrows lifted as he looks at you. “I could.. make some suggestions.”

“Uhhh..”

He lets out an awkward laugh, turning onto his side and scratching his neck. “Sorry, that was lame. It’s just uhm, since you said you don’t have a boyfriend, I’ve been thinking..”

Shit.

He sucks in his thick pink bottom lip, biting down nervously. “I’ve always thought you were real cute, but you’re always with that guy so I kept my distance.”

“You, y-you did?” You stammer, clearing your throat and sitting up straight. “Ah, that’s—that’s nice. I mean, thank you.”

Jisung sits up, long bangs falling into his eyes as he tilts and stares at you in a way you’ve never had anyone look at you. There’s softness in his gaze, exposing his teeth as he leans closer to your face, huffing under his breath. “I’m not good at this, but I’d really like to kiss you right now..”

Kiss?!? 

“Is that okay?” There’s a tremble in his voice, dipping in closer until your noses are less than an inch apart.

No. It’s not okay. You shouldn’t even be here right now. But isn’t it okay? Aren’t you in this relationship with Jeno against your will? Hasn’t Haechan been ignoring you for days? This could be your only chance at something normal.. someone who actually likes you for you.

Jisung’s heart looks damn near ready to break judging by the way his pout begins to droop, it’s instinct to rectify what you’ve caused that has you pressing forward; the first to brush your lips together. He lets a staggered breath free, moving to cup around your throat to deepen the kiss. It’s soft, nice, slow enough that you can process and absorb every small caress of your lips against his. 

“I really..” he sighs out a laugh, tapping the end of his nose to yours. “Could help you relax..”

You deserve this, right? Why even question it? You like him, he likes you, and a part of you fully expected(or wanted) this to happen.

“Okay..” 

Maybe the soft innocence radiating off of him is moreso the difference in your age. But there’s something about the way Jisung gently lays you down and places a pillow beneath your head. He kisses you again, and again, and again, slowly working your mouth open to allow his tongue to roam freely and explore. 

It’s nice and calm without overstimulating your arousal, not until his fingers trace along your throat, pulling back with a smile that asks for permission.

Assuming he expects more you squirm anxiously, helping him slide his hand lower down your stomach to the button of your jeans. “Can I?” He asks, again, always checking in to confirm you’re okay with his next move.

You help him by shimmying out of your jeans, allowing for his hand to dip inside of your underwear as you continue to kiss and arch up at the first graze of long thick fingers swiping between your folds. His hands are warm, movements fluid and practiced, collecting the wad of wetness at your entrance to rub over your clit and begin stimulating your nerves. You can’t help to think- this is how it’s supposed to be, getting to know your body first with soft strokes, feeling the different parts of you to learn what gets you off.

“Wanna eat you out.” Jisung whispers against your mouth, trailing two digits lower to press against your hole. “Wanna taste.”

You nod eagerly, much too eagerly, kicking your jeans off to the floor, lifting your hips to invite him inside. He rubs circles around your entrance teasingly, tapping a few times before pulling out to sit up on his knees and tug off his shirt. 

Jisung may be younger, but his body’s built nothing short of a man. Muscles line his stomach, arms firm and flexed as he pushes off his pants and climbs back onto the bed in nothing but a snuggly fit pair of boxer briefs. He pushes your top up under your breasts, hands large enough to hide the base of your stomach when they lay flat on top of you and begin to slide down to your underwear. “Like your panties..” he whispers, leaning down to trace the rose on your mound, making your hips twitch.

He likes them enough to not even take them off, laying down on his stomach to drag his nose down the damp seat of your panties. God Jeno would never— stop thinking about him. Stop saying what he’d do, he doesn’t exist. Jisung’s the one between your thighs, collecting your underwear to one side and taking a deep breath. “You’re just as pretty down here..” 

His deep voice makes your toes curl against the bed, bending your knees up to grant him more access. “Can I touch?”

Nodding eagerly, you lift your hips again for him to push your folds apart, groaning as his thumb presses to your clit. “Like it when I do that?”

“Yes.. use your mouth..”

Jisung groans, half whimpering, tucking his face lower between your thighs. Thick lips suction around your clit, sucking the nub between and flicking his tongue out. His slow polite manners dissipate the more he ruts against his bed and sucks around your bundle of nerves. “Taste as good as you look.” He murmurs, long tongue dragging down to your tight hole to lap inside. 

“You’re getting real wet.” He breathes out, cursing. Ducking back down to lick a fat stripe from your contracting wet hole to your clit. His tongue laves between your folds, spilling saliva and wetness across each, dipping his tongue in and out. He suckles on your clit, big hands splayed on your inner thighs pushing them further open to jam his tongue deeper inside.

You need more, fingers twitch midair before reaching into his hair and scratching at his scalp. “More!”

Jisung growls, shoving his face in until his nose digs against your bundle of nerves, panting against your opening with his tongue flicking against your inner walls.

He pulls back to glide two fingers inside, taking the chance to tug firmly on his scalp and shake your head. “Do y-you have a condom?”

Surprise paints his delicate face, appearing obscene with your arousal hanging from his chin. He nods quickly and jumps from the bed to slam open his bedside drawer and pull out a wad of protection. “I have a ton!” He scurries back onto the bed and grabs onto your knees, wide-eyed and dazed. “I mean.. do you want to?”

“Mhm..” you nod, sitting up to kiss up his neck, ripping the packet open and shoving your hand inside of his briefs.

You wish he would shut up just a little, favoring the breathy whines and whimpered moans he lets out when you finally wrap around his length and slide down the condom. 

Jisung kisses you again, sucking on your bottom lip until it swells, licking across the fronts of your teeth. He lowers you back down comfortably and shoves his boxers down, length jumping up and slapping against his stomach. 

“Y-you’re not like..” Jisung stutters, laughing to himself as he positions to line his cock up to your cunt. “Like a virgin?”

This is why you wish he’d shut up, gritting your teeth before forcing a smile. “Of course not.”

“Ah, figured.. wanted to be sure.” He takes a deep breath and cups your hips, inching forward slowly. “If it hurts—“

“I’ll let you know.”

It stings a little once he’s sheathed in half deep, he’s big, most of all thick. But the pain feels familiar, something you crave now.. 

“Come on.” You encourage, lifting your hips to fuck the rest of his length inside. “Fuck me, come on.” 

Jisung gasps, long and choked, falling forward and catching himself by grabbing onto your shoulders. He watches your hips cant up for a minute, literally riding his cock, pussy slapping against his pelvis.

“Fuck, oh my God..” he croons, sounding out of breath already. 

“Fuck me!” You beg, clinging onto his waist to scratch your nails down his flat tight stomach. “Please please, fuck me.”

Jisung snaps, nodding furiously as he crawls forward on his knees and hooks your thighs over his hips, throwing his hips into action to ram inside of you faster.

“Yeah yeah, just like that!” You whine, fucking him back to make him match your speed. 

His hands reach for your waist, slamming in harder until you’re gurgling and writhing in his hold. Cock sliding in and out so wet and deep, the pain completely gone, only receiving pleasure with each meet of your hips. 

It’s still missing something, something that has you reaching between your bodies to pinch your clit between two fingers. Nodding and panting for him to keep going. “S-so close.”

His palms land flat around the sides of your head, gripping the bedding in tight fists, using the leverage to drop his hips down faster. Fuck his cock in deeper and harder.

The sight of him above you, pale, muscular, black hair in his face, it’s enough to drift your mind away somewhere else. Shutting your eyes as heat burns up from your gut to your chest. Clit gone numb from your ferocious rubs, you twitch and cry out. The squeeze slowing him down as you clamp around him and begin to cum.

“Yesyesyes!” Through your blurry vision you can see him crumbling on top of you. Forcing his cock in past your tight heat, if not for how pitchy his moans sing out you’d swear..

“Ah, I’m c-cumming! I’m cu-cumming!” Jisung’s face tightens up, kissing the backs of his teeth. Hips locked in place, cock twitching as he fills up the condom with warmth. He pants and hangs his head between his shoulders, hips circling on more time before pulling out slowly. An audible pop resounds once he’s emptied you, flopping onto the bed by your side, stripping the condom off to give his dick a break for a moment, he throws it aside and lays back catching his breath. “No better way to relax than that..”

You wish you could say the same, already seeking your nails to chew on. That couldn’t have been too long, right? You need to check your phone, Jeno could have surely hunted you down by now if you’d even taken longer than a minute to respond. Maybe he’s really trying to respect your boundaries for once. Either way, you need to get out of here.

Tip toeing on to his bedroom floor, you step back into your clothes, quietly gathering your things to not wake him. Waking him could lead to conversation and more time you’d have to spend here..

There’s something you can only describe as guilt infiltrating your mostly pleased thoughts. Sneaking out of Jisung’s house was easy, scribbling off a note quickly that you’d see him at school later.

Jeno could be waiting outside where he dropped you off, you told him not to.. but he worries about you a lot. He’s always worried about you, it’s nice actually. It’s nice how much he cares about you, hell.. he checks in on you more than even your own parents. 

God. What the hell are you thinking? Who cares if he worries about you. He’s a fucking psycho is what he is. Why are you even thinking about him right now? After everything that’s happened.

Jisung’s really nice, he’s really smart, seems to have a good head on his shoulders. Yet Jeno.. Jeno feels like an infection you can’t find the cure for at this point. He’s everywhere, every time you shut your eyes, whenever you wake up, he’s the first person you think about, the first person you want to see.

This is ridiculous, you’re just tired, that’s it. Too tired to wait for Jeno to come get you. It’ll be best to take the bus back to your studio today, he’d probably make you go home with him and keep you up way too late. His bed may be nicer than yours, sure. His bathroom an actual personal bathroom, and as your ‘boyfriend’ he always makes sure you’re well fed. The grumble your stomach lets out doesn’t go unnoticed, ignoring it as you pick up your phone to shoot off a text message.

‘Really tired. Heading home. See you in the morning.’

Reading over your text before sending it, you chew at dry skin around your nails, dropping your hand quickly as if Jeno’s slapped it down again. He always does, reprimands you whenever you bite your nails or rip the dead skin off with your teeth. He does it because he cares about you, right? 

Fuck him. Seriously fuck that asshole.

Pressing your thumb down earnestly, you send the text and shut your phone off, bringing your thumb up to your lip to rip off an annoying piece of skin.

“Shit.” You hiss, shaking off your hand. More came off, opening a wound and stinging around the cuticle. Shining with red blood that rushed to fill up the divots around your nail bed.

Jeno would probably glare at you, raise your thumb to his mouth to suck on. He’d make it hurt less..

Brushing those thoughts aside, you pocket your fingers and tighten your jacket, making your way toward the nearest bus stop. He won’t like that you turned off your phone, he won’t like that you took public transport home instead of waiting for him, he doesn’t like anything really.

Except you..

It’s been a long while since you’ve taken the bus home, and it’s late, mostly empty. It’s hard to not notice a couple curled up in one of the two seaters, laughing at something on a phone together. Sometimes you watch things with Jeno, and you try to keep your amusement at bay, you try to emit nothing other than misery, but it’s become something you secretly look forward to these days..

Why do you keep thinking about him? What if Jisung’s texting you? Glancing at your blacked out phone screen, you wonder if he is, he could be.. Jisung seems to like you. He seems normal.. 

Normal could be nice. 

Normal.

Why can’t you and Jeno be normal? What if you are?

Coming home alone without him by your side seems odd now. This isn’t normal anymore, this isn’t your normal anymore.

Jeno is your normal. 

As you crawl into bed and take a deep sigh, you can’t help but to wrap yourself up tighter, curl up into a more fettle helpless position, and you can’t stop the tears that erupt from your eyes until they blur your vision and make your head pound. 

He should be here, he should be here to keep you safe and warm, but he’s not, and nothing feels normal anymore. ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ 

One thing about Jeno you’ve noticed is that he is always on time. He’s extremely punctual, and if he’s not, he always, without fail, will make sure to alert you with a call or text. 

Today’s different. 

Because even when you turned your phone on this morning and rubbed sleepy dry tears from your swollen eyes, no notifications from Jeno appeared.

Jisung had sent a few messages, thanking you for a great time and hoping you made it home safe. The last text you sent Jeno hadn’t even been opened, and his read receipts have always been turned on for as long as you’ve known him..

He’ll show up outside of your complex at 8 o’clock on the dot as usual. Maybe he forgot to charge his phone(that’s unlike him). 

But 8am comes around, and his car doesn’t round the corner, and minutes tick by, and he doesn’t show up. Each glance at your phone screen feels more like a plea for something, silently begging for a text or call to appear. Something to indicate he’s on his way, maybe traffic is heavier than usual today..

‘Hey. I’m waiting outside.’

You never add emojis. Keep messages as short and simple as you can. It would come across as too nice, too weird given the dynamic of your relationship, but that doesn’t stop your thumb from hovering over a smiley face before hitting send. Shaking it off, you watch the minutes go by, nursing the cut up cuticle you ripped off last night between your lips. If you don’t leave soon to catch the bus you’ll be late.

One more minute, you’ll wait one more minute before running to catch the next bus. 

‘Is everything okay?’

What if he got into an accident? Did Jeno even make it home yesterday after dropping you off? What if he’s in a hospital bed somewhere, disfigured, all alone without anyone to keep him company? What are you even thinking right now?!

It doesn’t calm your nerves a bit that he hasn’t opened a single text message you’ve sent. Doesn’t help as you cram onto a crowded bus and worry your thumb down to raw skin, biting every little piece you can get your teeth on. Doesn’t help that you can’t stop glancing at your phone, envisioning each terrible outcome.

He’ll be at school, he’ll be waiting at your lockers and walk you to class, sit by your side as usual. Throw out an assload of compliments that piss you off, stare at you and play with your hair. It’s fine, everything is fine, he’s a good driver. How could he possibly get into an accident? Jeno? Never.

But he’s not waiting at your lockers, even as you stand around longer peering up and down the hallway for him to show up. You can’t ask anyone if they’ve seen him either, it’s not like you know anyone to ask.

He’s not in your first class, doesn’t show up for second period, or third, and your phone never once dings with a new notification.

Even as your names are called out to grab attendance and you silently pray he’ll appear at the classroom door out of breath, finding your surprised gaze on him. A huge smile will stretch his cheeks into a bundle of wrinkles, eyes disappearing when he meets yours.

But that doesn’t happen, and in a panic you send off a slew of text messages, biting your nails down to nothing but raw skin.

‘Is everything okay Jeno? Did your phone die?’

‘I’m at school. Should I meet you for lunch somewhere?’

‘Are you sick?’

There’s no way to explain the fear clawing at your chest, the rumble in your stomach, the ache that pangs through your heart. It’s not because you care about him, he doesn’t deserve that from you, not even out of human decency. But maybe, just maybe, you are worried, because Jeno’s face has become such a normal part of your daily life. His light touches, a gaze that never loses sight of you, a powerful aura that wraps you up behind an invisible shield that makes you feel safe. As insane as it feels to even contemplate, you can’t help it.

He’s a disease, streaming through your blood, destroying all of your white blood cells and leaving you with no option other than to rely on him to survive. Some may even consider that love, if you think about it.

He sought you out in the first place, didn’t he? Took notice of something special in you that clearly no one else does. Like right now as you walk to your locker, head hung low, no one cares. No one’s looking at you, no one notices you or sees you. They always see you when Jeno’s by your side. He’s the bright light that illuminates around you, and you? You’re nothing. 

Jeno made you something though. He made you his.

How hasn’t he replied yet?!? What the hell is his problem! You’d scream if you could, that’s how desperate you feel, not even a god damn text? Nothing?!

You could always leave.. take the bus to his house. It’s possible he is severely injured after all, his parents might not even have a clue. It’s the least you can do, at least inform them that their son’s on his deathbed because of a horrific accident. Because that’s the only logical explanation you can fathom for why he hasn’t attempted to contact you even once since yesterday. It’s your fault too, if he really got into a bad car wreck after dropping you off. Yeah, you should definitely take the rest of the day off, it’s the right thing to do..

Adding speed to your steps, you rush toward your locker to grab your bag, prying it open quickly and nearly missing the folded note that slips out. A note.. with very familiar handwriting. A note in your locker after all this time, exactly like the ones you used to receive..

‘It’s been awhile hasn’t it angel? I haven’t felt the need to speak to you like this in such a long time now it seems. We have grown so close now, there are times I catch your gaze wandering away from me. I realize in those moments how much I’ve truly given up for you.

I lost my friends, carry guilt on my back of getting caught; that Haechan will find the courage to snitch me out.. The chance of my father disowning me for ruining his one chance to free himself from this impoverishment. In those moments I know you look away silently praying for someone to save you, when really, it’s been me all along.

I’ve only ever wanted to save you because you deserve better than this. I’m waiting for you, I know you’re smart enough to find your way.

-Your Teddy Bear’

This has to be a sick joke, you fully believe this has to be a sick joke; but your lip twitches, your tongue presses to the fronts of your teeth, and you can feel moisture itching at the backs of your eyes.

Jeno hadn’t picked you up today, he never sent a message to explain why. The last he’d spoken with you was on the car ride over to Jisung’s, and even then you never said much. He hadn’t said much either if you really think back, stay silent for most of the drive.

The last place you want to revisit is room 0423 after that day.

‘I’m waiting for you.’ 

Stoic and zombie-like your feet drag through the halls finding your way to the abandoned sector of the school. Because he’s waiting, and like a fool you’ve been waiting for him too.  

You couldn’t process a thought, mindless as you found your way in front of the door that read 0423 before you. At this point there isn’t much else Jeno can pull to surprise you. Probably planning a setup of some sort to commemorate the day he met you, since it matters to him so much.

“Don’t act shy and stand out there forever, I’m waiting.” His voice echoes through the small opening, leaving the door cracked enough for you to know to come inside.

Everything appears to be the same as you remember, other than the giant teddy bear Jeno gifted you sitting at the teacher's table, his back facing you from where he sits on one of the student desks at the front row. 

“Took you long enough to show up. I expected you’d be sick to your stomach without me, buried with your face in a porcelain bowl. Although, I must say, your messages have been quite entertaining.” Jeno begins to speak, his back muscles flexing as he laughs sarcastically. His neck bends forward, nodding to himself. “I won’t lie, I didn’t expect even that much from you. I dare say, you seemed frantic, worried even..”

“Why did you want me to come back here?” You ask softly, inching closer to where he sits. Jeno listens to the sound of your sneakers drag against the linoleum floor, he listens to your calm breath, he listens to your nails scratch by on each desk you pass, and he smiles stiffly.

“You really think I’m stupid, don’t you?” Jeno’s teeth grit, fisting a remote control in his grip. He stands up abruptly in a way that startles you. Instinctively lifting your fists to cover your face as you gasp. Rolling his eyes, he grips onto a curtain near the corner covering up an old school television, and he turns to face you. 

If looks could kill, you know that you’d be laid out on the floor bleeding out right now. He bores into you with a laser sharp gaze, slicing through your chest with a level of intensity he’s kept calm for weeks. 

“Answer me.”

Jeno’s throat shakes, his knuckles saturated in white, cuts of blood red and hues of pink from punching who knows what or who.. and for a quick second you think he may cry as he rapidly blinks away moisture that’s teetering at the brims of his eyes.

“No Jeno.. I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“I’ve never liked when you lie.” He nods, sniffling loud and hitting play. “You always look dead behind the eyes when you lie, did you know that? Because even you know that deep down inside no matter how much you hate me, lying isn’t your style.”

The black tv screen illuminates, a dim video of sheets that make your eyes squint, familiar..

“Is that—“ the camera zooms out before you can even speculate, cutting off your breath. “N-no—there’s no wa—“

Jeno sneers, dragging the back of his hand across his eyes and nose. He turns the volume up until your pleasured moans resound throughout the classroom, cascading down the walls and your frame like lashings. The camera doesn’t bother to focus on Jisung once, zoomed in on your face, your mouth hung open, the lines formed between your eyebrows.

“H-how..” bile rises up your throat, stepping back until your butt meets the ledge of a desk. There’s no way Jeno could have known, how HOW could he—

“I know what you’re thinking.” He says smoothly, the tears dried up and gone. Spinning on one foot to face you and waved the remote in your direction. “You thought he really liked you, right?”

“N-no it’s n-not that—“

“What did I tell you about lying?” He grite, placating you with a cold hard stare. “I could have saved us the trouble of dealing with any of this. I knew from the second I saw you talking to him in class, I knew from that moment. You looked so happy.” He scoffs, head shaking, pausing the video. “You looked so fucking happy and hopeful, the same way you looked when I saw you talking to Haechan in the library before.”

He takes a deep dramatic breath, tossing the remote aside, arms free to cross over his chest and lock you in place with one of the most fear-inducing looks you’ve ever seen. “You never look at me like that. You never even tell me that you love me, and you pretend..” Jeno shifts back, turning his body away from you. “You pretend to hate me.”

Everything inside of you screams to say something, to tell him that he’s wrong, that you do hate him. But there’s that pain in your chest again, the one that feels worse than any pain you’ve ever felt, worse than when Haechan moved away and slowly forgot about you. Worse than when he ignored you after you had sex..

It’s a pain that only Jeno can pull out of you. It’s denial, hate, love, anger, fear, obsession, worry, and right now, that pain fills you with terror. He knows, and more than worrying about what he’ll do to you, you can’t stop the tears from flowing out at the thought of losing him. 

“I-I’m sorr—“

“Stop.” He snaps quickly, fully turning away and motioning to the classroom stock closet. “You can come out now.”

Through your bleary vision, you see him come out, big smile, broad and tall. Cocky as he clasp hands with Jeno and shoots you a wink over his shoulder. “You’ll send me a copy too, right?” 

“Get the fuck out.” Jeno jeers, crashing his shoulder into Jisung’s side. “Good job though, the money should be in your account.”

“Yeah of course man, anytime.” He smirks before turning to face you, winking as he makes way to pass by you. “And you, I really did have a good time last night.” He leans it quickly to whisper. “If this weird shit you have going on doesn’t work out, you know where to find me.”

“Please…please!” You stammer, feeling overwhelmed and overheated the longer you have to listen to yourself get fucked through all of this. Every bit of confusion struggles to clear as your mind rages and grows heavy, painfully beating through your skull. “Turn it off! Please!”

Jeno snickers, ripping the TV’s power cord out. “Not that you deserve peace of mind right now.” He mumbles, petting the teddy bear he gifted you on your anniversary. “What were you thinking?”

“I..” 

What were you thinking??? Obviously you were thinking that your classmate who you’ve secretly had a small liking for may have a small liking for you in return. There’s nothing else to say, you fell right into Jenoms trap, you always will..

“Don’t answer that.” He says, turning toward you with an unrelenting penetrating gaze. “I know what you were thinking. I always know what you’re thinking.”

He steps closer, trapping you against the desk holding your weight up. Weakness takes over your ankles and knees, dropping head head to hang, too ashamed to even look at him. More embarrassed than ashamed.. why should you feel ashamed?

“You thought a guy like that could seriously like you? What’s it going to take for you to learn this lesson?” Jeno continues, voice cutting deep and sharp. “No one here will ever like you except me. Jisung may pity fuck you out of boredom, but he’d never bring a girl like you home. He’d never take you serious, he’ll never give a real fuck about you.”

“T-this whole time..” you stutter, biting down on your lip. “You k-knew this whole time.”

“Pft.” He bends in to meet you eye level, still standing straight to loom over your slouched frame. “I’m always watching you.”

Jeno’s tongue clicks, whistling lowly, taking a step back to snap his fingers in a sarcastic manner. “You know who else could give a shit about you? Haechan.” He nods, finding your red wet eyes. “Haechan who hasn’t acknowledged your existence ever since that day.”

“N-no..” tremors vibrate up your throat, gripping onto the desk beneath you to keep yourself up. “There’s no way..”

“I had a sliver of hope, you know?” He sighs, rubbing at his temples. “I thought maybe you finally understood that Haechan could give a fuck about whatever it is you used to have. That stupid childhood friendship you cherish and hold onto still.” He pauses to look at you, blinking glassy eyes away. “I can’t trust you, even after all that I do to prove to you that you belong with me.”

“This—this isn’t—“

“Haechan—he’ll never love you, he’ll never see you as anything more than some poor loser from his past.” He interrupts, hissing between his teeth. “Jisung, even fatter chance. I’ve explained this to you so many times now. When will you get it.”

“Why are you doing this to me?!” You screech, louder than you even thought possible. Tears rush towards your chin, digging your nails into the cheap old desk wood. “Why me?!?”

Jeno scoops your face, thumbing your wet cheeks softly, almost gently. His own eyes shake, pouring out from the corners. “Because.” He breathes in deep through his nose, wet voice coming out shattered. “I love you.”  

I love you I love you I love you. Those three words repeat over and over again, a face full of anger turning into one you can hardly recognize anymore, fingers dug into your cheeks as if he can somehow force you to believe him this way. It hurts to watch more than anything, as Jeno crumbles and falls to his knees, arms wrapped tight around your hips screaming manically that he loves you.

He. Loves. You.

Haechan doesn’t love you, and a guy like Jisung could never love you..

He’s right. Jeno’s right. He’s been right from the very beginning. You could have listened, avoided all of this? The normalcy you wished to have with him, whatever that could have been.. if it ever could have been.

“Why won’t you love me?!” He sounds broken, distraught, hopeless. The hug around your lower half burns, feels like you’ll never be free, you’ll never get away from him.

You don’t want to get away from him anymore.

“I love you, Jeno..” you can hear your voice empty of life as it exits your lips. The image before you too blurry to even make out past your tear-filled gaze. “I love you.”

The grip on your hips loosens, tears calming to a round of sniffles, he stops shaking and slowly lifts his face to look at you. “Say that again.”

Cold, emotionless, demanding. That’s the tone you’re used to..

“I love you.”

Jeno stands back up, quickly cleaning his eyes off with the heel of his palms. A large smile altering the anger and sadness he just displayed seconds ago. “My Teddy.”

He rambles, words slurred together as you fail to process anything that’s just happened. Could this have ever been normal? Or is this simply who Jeno is? He’s obsessive, crazed, dominant and deranged. 

“I know you love me.” He sighs happily, tugging you in close and rubbing along your spine. “I knew when you made Jisung put on a condom.”

The way spit clogs up your throat at that makes you choke on your next breath, Jeno’s laugh rumbling against your chest as he pats your back to help you. “I thought so after you made Haechan use one, but this really confirmed it. You wanted to hurt me, wanted to make me jealous..” his voice lowers, shifting to whisper in your ear. “But deep down inside you know I’m the only one you want to fuck you full of cum.”

There’s no point in questioning anything, you know he hates when you do that. You know that he has ways to find out things that you can’t begin to understand. “I know baby, that’s why I had to replace your prescription too. Those mints you always popped in your mouth after eating lunch. It’s cute how you play these little mind games with me..”

Mints?! The birth control you started taking after.. that first time. You knew he was evil, mentally deranged, but fucking your with medication?! 

“M-my mints??” You ask in disbelief, having to bite down on the backs of your teeth to stop your jaw from hanging.

Jeno waves a finger at you, tapping your nose. “I don’t believe in that birth control shit.”

And there it is, the same Jeno you became familiar with in this very room. The same one that turns your dreams into nightmares, that makes you look over your shoulder constantly, the one that’s imprisoned you in this inescapable hell. 

“It’s cute how you still think you can out-smart me.” He says sternly, pinching your chin. “But nothing about your constant lying is cute.”

He leans in close, eyes wide open taking in your despair, licking up the tears that seem endless. Everything, all of this, you were never going to win. Winning was never an option.

“You’re so special to me.” Sucking at the droplets dangling from your chin, he nips up your jaw to swallow your earlobe. “So special and real, remind me so much of him. Who he used to be.”

Because that’s really what this all boils down to. You never willingly fell for Jeno’s charms the way everyone else does, he had to force this, and even then you didn’t give. You held on to the last bits of yourself that remained raw and real, you chose to love and accept who you are even when he diminished your worth. And that drove him crazy, tickled him in places he forgot existed, reignited those memories of who his best friend once was.

“I love you.” Jeno repeats, whispering just for you, not that anyone could even hear your screams here from room 0423. No one heard you the last time, no one helped, no one cares.

“I love you too.” The tears that pour down from your upper lip could come across as tears of joy. From an outsider's point of view this could look like the happiest moment of your life. Sharing confessions of love with your boyfriend, a handsome young man who can only be described as obsessed with you, but they aren’t happy tears; and as Jeno grins, squatting down to scoop you up, you have to swallow the rancid bile rising up your throat. Laid back down on the same desk he first had his way with you on, the same place he made you shut up and take it.

It’s crazy and out of body when Jeno’s palms drag down your sides, unbutton your top and reaches under your back to unhook your bra. He’s done it many times, it’s muscle memory at this point removing your clothes. Each small drag of his fingertips feel more chilling, crashing waves of shock throughout your system. Even as he strips you nude and licks down your inner thighs you lay there stoic, gaze unwavering from where he stands between your legs taking time to stroke over your figure.

“What’re you thinking about teddy?” He coos, kissing along the tender skin lining your inner thigh. “You look like a lot is going on inside that pretty head..”

What are you thinking? You’re not thinking much of anything. Unable to process a singular thought as you watch him bend in and kiss down the center of your sternum, trailing down to your navel. There’s nothing else you can say right now, nothing else you want to say as tears collect and spill over, running down to your ears. 

“I missed you, I missed you so much.”

Jeno slowly cranes his head up to find your tear-filled gaze, he slowly reaches to cup your face, slowly smiles. It all seems too slow in comparison to the breakdown you’re having. Shaking down to the tips of your fingers and toes, body wracked with sobs as he sits you up and thumbs at your wet cheeks.

“Did you sweetheart? You missed me?” 

“Y-yes!” You cry out watery, throwing your arms around his waist to pull him in close between your thighs. “You left me, you didn’t come. You always pick me up, you’re always there.”

Jeno falls silent, basking in your misery, savoring the wash of success that rains down on him. He’s broken you, dropped each piece of the puzzle only to reassemble it the way he wants. Broken, fixed, he did that, made you his and only his. His hands reach under your top, stroking up your spine and cooing in your ear. “I’m always there, I’ll always be there.”

That’s his promise, that he’ll always be there for you. He’ll always watch out for you, even if it’s not in the traditional romantic way you’d dreamt of as a child. It’s still special, you’re still special to him. And that’s enough, that’s really enough. Because your body calms down, and your nose finds comfort in his clean scent, eyes falling shut as you begin to relax under his touch.

He straightens out to kiss your cheeks, smooth your hair away from your face and take in the sadness streaked across your iris. It’s sadness with a hint of hope, a hint of something he’s never noticed before. You’re finally looking at him like he means something to you, and that makes Jeno’s chest swell. Heart beating rapidly as he leans in to catch your lips and suck on each until they blister under his bites.

He never kisses you softly when you’re alone, and maybe you like that. He’s passionate and rough, takes control of your mouth and tastes through every little crevice inside. He always tastes good and lingers on your tongue for hours throughout the day, but you like that. You need to feel him, smell him, taste him, belong to him. You need him to remind you of who you belong to when you start to stray and seek attention from anyone else.

“Would you hurt me?” You asked him before, and as your eyebrows crush together while kissing him you have to ask again. Because Haechan hurt you, he hurt you so bad. Jisung hurt you, he hurt you more than he’ll ever know. But Jeno.. he can’t hurt you. If he ever hurt you, there’s no way to predict what you’d do..

“Only if you hurt me.” He says in a serious tone, pulling back to look in your eyes. “You won’t, not anymore. You love me.”

“I—I do, I love you.”

It’s final, it’s your love story. Here in room 0423, the school you worked hard to get into, the scholarship you stayed up late day and night putting in extra credit for. All of that led to this moment in time with Jeno. Led you to your destiny, to the man that loves you.

“I know teddy, I’ve always known.” Taking your hands, he kisses down your fingers from the tips, spending extra time on your knuckles, turning them to drag his lips over your palms. “I have plans for us, our future.”

Plans. Future. Whatever that means.. you’re just happy to be here with him. To let him place your hands on his cock, laugh quietly at the way your fingers can barely wrap around him. “You’d never ask me to wear a condom.” He mumbles. He’s proud of that, says it in a boisterous tone.

“Never.” You agree solemnly. 

That’s the best part of this victory. You were never a simple one time fuck, you were always meant to be more. He had to break you down beyond whatever voided space sex could fill, had to ensure your only need in life should ever be him.

It’s easier to lift your legs up and prop your feet on the desk, fully exposing your core. You still whimper and hide your face, still give off a facade of not wanting it. 

He wants you to watch, see every second of him filling you up from inside out. To know that your body belongs to him, that he made you this way. He slaps your thighs to get you to hold yourself open, grabbing onto the base of his cock to stroke. Free hand finding your hair to ball up in his grip and keep your neck bent down. “Want my cock sweetheart?”

Jeno shakes you by the tuft of hair in his hold, nodding your head up and down. “I know the small little dicks you let fuck you weren’t shit.”

The way your hips stutter at that and wet arousal bubbles from your hole makes his cock twitch, inching closer to pick up a dollop of your slick, spreading it up to your clit with the tip of his length.

Thankful for the rubber sole of your shoes keeping your feet in place, you moan, biting it down still out of habit. His cock is nice, thick, covered in large projected veins. The fat pink tip dips in past your clenched hole, forcing a gushing wet sound to echo throughout the classroom. It should be humiliating but your body says otherwise, squeezing out more of your arousal with each teasing prod of his cock.

He plays with you like that for a while, to get you desperate and needy the way he likes. Cockhead probbing in and out enough for the mass of his bulbous tip to disappear inside of you. 

“J-Jeno..”

That’s it, that’s what he likes to hear. That shattered little way you say his name. He bends in again to lick your cheek clean, dragging his lips to your ear. “Don’t take your eyes off my cock, if you do I won’t be nice.”

That’s how he talks to you, none of that lovey dovey shit when you don’t actually want it. He talks to you like you’re dumb, like you need to be told what to do, and sometimes you do. Times like these when you relinquish all control of yourself and let him turn you into a puppet, you need to be told to speak and listen, to watch and enjoy. He’s good at that, at making you feel small when you need to.

Weakly nodding, you scoot back to get a better grip on the backs of your upper thigh, hold yourself fully open for him. It’s commemorative being here like this again, on this desk, watching him begin to slowly push his fat girth in. 

His hands travel down to hold your cunt open, making it stretch even more as you take and take. It always hurts a little bit trying to take all of his length at once, a good hurt, the type the tingles from the end of your spine to your brain. Watching it split you open this up close makes the pain even more surreal, drooling from your mouth like a starved animal. Pussy drooling around his cock the more he buries in, skin pulled taut around the thick shaft.

“Do you see?” Jeno says deep and raspy, pushing in more than half of his mass already. He fingers your clit for a minute, watching your hole convulse around him. “See how damn good you take it baby? You’re so good for me.”

“Unnghhh..” you wanna kick your legs out, throw yourself on him, wrap your arms around his neck. You have to wait, be patient and watch the rest of his size push in. “S-so big.”

“Was made for you.” He says clearly, through the fog clouding your ears. “Was made to fuck you teddy, that’s why I feel so good inside of you. We’re perfect for each other.”

Hearing that makes you brain melt, dropping your head to hang only for Jeno to wrap around your throat and lift your head up, burning you with his fierce gaze.

“When you kissed Haechan,” his hands constraint around your neck, jerking your head to look at him. “Was your body still screaming for me? Is that why you missed me?”

When he says he knows everything about you he really means it. Down to the infestation of emotions crushing your soul everyday. He knows you’ll never be able to recover from what he’s put you through, you’ll always be addicted, crawling like a fiend for the next hit.

“You were thinking of me, that’s it right? With your lips pressed tightly up against his skin.” He says in the most condescending tone, dragging the tips of his fingers up your jaw while keeping a tight clasp around your throat. “Was he even worth the fuck?”

In the end, he wasn’t, your eyes tell Jeno everything he needs to know. The ache and lust, pangs of guilt muddled between. “Did he fuck you like this?” 

The rest of his length sinks in, thrusting in the fat base of his cock ruthlessly, nearly losing your balance if not for the chokehold he has you in. “He’d never fuck you like this, not the way you need. Nobody ever will.”

To drive it home he pulls out completely, making your pussy gape wide open and dribble a wad of wetness out that spills onto the classroom floor. You want to agree with him, tell him that he’s right, that he’s the only one that will ever fulfill your needs now, coughing and blubbering your whimpers as you try to inhale. He fucks into you like a rabid feral wolf, plunging his cock in and out all the way to hear your gurgled scream. It hurts it hurts it hurts, it hurts so fucking good.

The more animalistic he becomes, the more your skin drips with sweat, straining to keep yourself in this position on the desk. Legs more like jelly as your feet begin to slip and your ass slides forward. Jeno only pummels into you faster, determined to rip through your womb, leave a mark on your cervix. 

He grunts wildly, releasing your neck abruptly to wrap around your waist and cup your ass right as you nearly fall off the desk. Each thrust inside feels more erratic than the last, diving his cock in deeper than you’ve ever felt anything reach. He’s relentless, growling through it all, exerting power and anger as he hoists you up by your ass and your legs wrap around his hips limply.

“Fuck my baby into you.” He grunts furiously, throwing your body up and down on his cock. Hand prints bloom on your throat, dropping your head back to let out a howling moan, crying out for only Jeno to save you now. For Jeno to do whatever he wants with you.

Your cries has him laying you back on the desk, needing to see for himself how broken and pathetic you look. Hauling your thighs to wrap around him securely to not lose an inch of warmth blanketing his length. He pounds in balls deep, the clap of his sack meeting your ass resounding throughout the room wet and loud, making your legs tremble with each barreling thrust.

“Yeah? Fuck you full of my kids.” He growls, reaching for your shoulders to really lose it on you. Jerking back up the desk by each violent smack of his hips crashing down on you. It’s the crazed look in his eyes that hurdles you back into the last time, catching the faded sound of your pleading, of your denial. Screaming out no no! Over and over again, only for him to ignore you, have his way and ruin you for anyone else.

“P-please—“ you cry, squeezing around his meaty girth as much as you’re able to, feet dangling bonelessly behind him. “P-please, make me y-yours.”

It could have been this way last time, wanting him to have you instead of begging him to stop. It could have been normal, but the two of you were never destined for that. You were meant to be his as much as he was made to be yours. The wet smack of his balls turns messy, the looming broad frame mounting you losing his composure as you look up at him and more tears trail down your cheeks. 

“You always look prettiest when you cry.” Jeno grits out, falling down against you to slam home a few more jerky thrusts. Cock spurting out enough cum to surely knock you up, pushing it in deep with each digging swivel of his hips and he grabs onto your chin and laps your hot cheek clean of tears.

“Might have to keep getting you pregnant after this..” he mumbles, kissing the swell of your lips. “Fuck your ass in the mean time while you’re knocked up. I know how my teddy likes it..”

It’s hot and sticky between your bodies, nodding slowly at what he says, you suck on his thumb until both of you have calmed and caught your breath.

He’s not just inside of you, he’s seeping from your pores, infiltrating your nervous system, tearing you open from inside out. Each exhausted breath he takes lines up to yours, blinking simultaneously, twitching through the aftershocks of your orgasm at the same time. He’s yours, and you are his. One soul, one heart, one love combining you.

“I love you.” He pants, reaching between your sweaty bodies to smooth his palm over your extended stomach, bulging out with his cock lodged in so deep. “I love us.”

Jeno did more than ruin your life. He destroyed everything you’ve worked hard for. Shattering your hopes and dreams, demolishing any type of independence you strived to achieve, he stripped all those dreams away. 

He’s your new dream. 

“I love you too.” 

He hums, shifting to bracket your head with his biceps, littering gentle kisses across your wet tear-stained cheeks. “I know teddy, I know.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･

There are many ways you envisioned the future. Flying cars, trains that can get you from one side of a state to another at the speed of light, maybe even actual superheroes.

You can even recall sitting side by side with Haechan reading Uzumaki after the fight you had that brought you into each other’s lives in the first place. If you hadn’t wanted to read that damn manga so bad, if you had just shown up at the comic book store any other day. He had sat there with you, thigh pressed to yours, bangs too long and shabby, flicking up with each blink. 

You thought it was nice, to like a boy, to have a crush. It was nice to go home and giggle while brushing your teeth, sent off to dream after your mom tucked you in. Haechan had appeared, the Haechan he’d grow up to be someday. The Haechan you wanted him to be someday, but the thing about dreams is they’re silly. 

“I don’t believe in dreams.” Jeno says behind you, zipping up the back of your dress. “There’s more power in manifestation.”

But dreams are manifestations if you think about it, and while you dreamt of the future with Haechan, you remember it had been just like Uzumaki. 

Spirals had begun to sprout up in the small town around you, driving everyone insane. Infecting each inch of surface and land, and you, you reached for Haechan as he escaped the swarm of spirals. You screamed, shouted, pleaded for him to grab a hold of your hands and save you.

And then you woke up, sitting up in your childhood bed feeling a sense of dread. 

“I manifested you.” Jeno kisses your nape, fixing your hair into place. “My Teddy.”

No. He didn’t. That’s what you want to say, to let him know. He didn’t manifest you, you let him in years ago when Haechan stood there in your dream. Watched you get swallowed up by the spirals, the exact same way he watched Jeno swallow you whole. He did nothing then, he did nothing now, exactly like your dream.

It’s been a week now since you last went to class. A week now since you moved out of your studio apartment, Jeno reminding you that ‘That shithole is no place for my soon-to-be wife to live.’ as he drove you to a new apartment. Furnished, never lived in, a great view of the city, and two bedrooms. 

‘Until I’ve saved up enough for a house, this will be perfect for our little family.’

He kisses your forehead and held you close, admiring the scenery outside of your bedroom window. ‘You’ll never have to worry about anything again.’

Don’t ask questions, don’t worry, just trust him.

Because he knows you’d never handle the truth without a fight. The anonymous threats he holds over Haechan’s father’s head, the thousands of dollars he’s set aside just to get you away from your childhood friend. It’s all been a part of his plan, and thankfully it worked. Of course it did, everything works out for Jeno.

“We won’t stay out too late.” Jeno smiles, reaching over to the passenger seat to tweak your chin. “You look so fucking cute in that costume.”

“I feel fat.” You mumble, poking at your exposed stomach.

“Don’t start.” He tuts, slapping your hand away. “You look like my fluffy cute teddy.”

You really do. Wearing fluffy round ears on your head, fuzzy tan brown bralette and matching shorts with a puffed tail attached. Jeno held up the costume with a huge smile, tossing it your way only a few hours ago and letting you know to get ready for a Halloween party tonight. 

His costume seemed much more simple, nothing more than a Michael Meyers face mask and his usual attire. Tight black tee, fitted dark wash jeans, combat boots, studded leather belt. 

You look really good too Jeno. 

That’s what you wanted to say, especially after the last few weeks of falling asleep in the same bed together. You really really really wanted to say it, to tell him he looks hot, sexy, devastatingly attractive.

You say nothing though, following along with his arm around your shoulder through a throng of partygoers dancing around in their fun costumes. Fairies, iconic characters, Barbies, Bratz Dollz, cops and robbers. It’s fun really, your first Halloween party, your first Halloween party with your boyfriend.

“Water?” He hands you a cup of clear liquid, ignoring the bottles of alcohol lined up atop the kitchen counter of whoevers house this is. 

“Thanks.”

He nods, directing you to a long winding staircase leading you up to an enormous hallway entrance. Rich people of course, luxurious decor, expensive paintings, every inch of this place spotless surely thanks to a 24 hour live-in maid service.

“There’s still one last thing I need to fix for you.”

Jeno walks backward, facing you with that blank faced mask on, arms prominent and flexed in the confines of his tight shirt. “That’s why we’re here Teddy.”

What could that even mean? One last thing to fix for you. Nothing can be fixed anymore.

“Come here baby.” It’s dark up here, darker in the room he tugs you inside of, immediately pinning your body to the wall, digging his fingers into your waist. “How am I supposed to keep my hands off of you?” He grunts, turning you around to press your breasts to the wall, stroking your hair aside to kiss your nape and toy with the leather choker there.

He says that offhandedly sometimes while you’re lazing around in bed after waking up. It’s so hard to keep his hands off of you, he has no idea how he’ll manage once you give birth.

That’s why you’re here, surprised he even bothered to find a room to hide you away in. Among the many things Jeno likes, he loves to show you off, love for everyone to know you are his.

He doesn’t waste time to strip your panties off, dropping them to your ankles to squeeze your ass with his heavy thick palms. Holding you apart to watch your wrinkled rim flinch and tighten up. “Not tonight sweetheart. Gotta fuck your pretty pussy, you know that. Have to make sure your womb stays full.” 

He still runs a thumb across your rim, just to watch your hips jut back, so needy.

“Stay still okay?” Jeno says sweetly, pointing to the door. “And don’t look away.”

He steps back for a minute, letting the cool air circulating around the room roll shivers up your back, chewing on your lip in anticipation.

You think you hear a click, something else familiar that you can’t exactly put your finger on before the warmth of his body returns and presses against you. 

“Now where were we? My poor teddy, already making a mess.” He whispers against the shell of your ear, hand slipping between your thighs to rub the wetness around that's smeared down. “Should I fuck you now? Make my teddy feel real good?”

“Y-yes..” you whine, keeping your gaze locked on the door like he commanded. It’s not good to disobey Jeno, and you don’t intend to.

“Beg for it better than that..” the weight of his size smacks against your ass, hot and heavy. Letting you know he’s fully hard and ready to fuck. “Come on.”

“Please Jeno.. wanna feel f-full..” you do your best to sound sweet, docile and small. Anything to not spend another minute without him inside of you. 

“Is that all I am to you? A big cock to get yourself off on? Huh?” He seeps between your thighs, gripping onto your hips firmly. Rocking his hips forward, the clap of his skin hitting the perk of your ass resounds. Your skin sticky from body shimmer and lotion, moistening up as he ruts between your thighs.

“N-no.. love you, love your cock too.” You whimper, having to bite down on your hand to not scream when he slaps your hip and lets out a deep pleased grunt. 

“That’s what I like to hear sweetheart.” Without bothering to warn you, he pushes in, pausing a little more than halfway only to savor the wet trickle of arousal drenching his length. “Fuck, that’s how much you love my cock? Dripping this fucking much already.”

“Yesyesyes!” You nod into your hand, bumping your head against the wall. Biting down harder on your fingers as impending screams rise up your throat. Muffling the one that breaks free when he pushes into the hilt.

Jeno’s cock always feels like the first time everytime, so big and fucking thick. Penetrating deep in ways that don’t even seem humanly possible. He always makes you cum, makes you want to go again even when your body needs a break. 

“L-love h-how full you m-make me!” You blabber, reaching to grab onto the wall as he builds up speed and starts to thrust faster. Palms slide up your waist to fuck you the way he wants, pulling out to the tip each time and diving the entirety of his length right back in to really make you feel and take every inch. 

“You love it?! You love me?” He growls, sliding one hand lower to find your clit before you’re able to respond. He knows you’ll choke on your next words, making your pussy gush out more around him as he rams up and fucks you vigorously. “Answer me!”

“Yes yes! I love you!” You wail, bounced up and down fiercely. The angle placing the tip of his cock right under your navel. “Ah! Ah f-fuck!”

“Yeah, keep fucking saying that sweetheart.” He roars, biting at your shoulder, swiping your clit side to side. Thin fingers play you like a fiddle, stroking and pinching your clit until you’re clenching around him. Toes pointed off the ground, neck tossed back in ecstasy. 

Jeno reaches so deep, he fills you up so so good, he stretches you open in a way you’ve become addicted to. Clawing at the wall on the brink of your orgasm, chanting repetitive begging between your moans. He eats it all up, groans against your skin, shoving his mask off as the door opens.

“That’s it Teddy,” fisting your hair, he shoves your cheek against the wall, maneuvering your face toward the stream of light that enters. “Milking my cock so fucking good.”

Haechan’s eyes meet yours, wide and bewildered, quickly scanning from Jeno back to you. “Cum for me, let him see how you really take it baby. Show that bitch who you fucking love.”

It hurts. The pleasure between your thighs taking over your lower half as your heart pinches and aches, the two powerful emotions crashing head to head. And Jeno thrusts in hard, swiping his fingers rapidly along the sides of your clit until you’re crying out, slapping the wall with a shout.

“That’s my girl, that’s my fucking girl.” He rasps behind you, cupping your face to bite down on your jaw. Through your dazed euphoria you think that’s your broken voice spewing out a song of IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou, eyes rolled back as the cool chill washes away from your skin with an overwhelming wave of heat. 

Jeno sport’s the biggest and most wicked smile, watching Haechan’s face fall. The last thing his old best friend could snatch away from his life, successfully crushing the relationship you ever had with him. He watches his old friend back away disgusted, and he cums, filling you with a hot stream of white, exclaiming how much he loves you.

“Love you so much baby,” he’s never sounded so honest, so enthralled and at ease. Drawing your waist back with his ripped arms, wrapping a safe hold around you to keep your limbless body against his. “Love you enough to give you my baby.”

His palms glide down, ending in their new favorite spot right beneath your navel. Kissing up your neck softly, murmuring about the future. “You’ll never be able to get rid of me now Teddy. We’re one now, you and I.”

There’s a hint of threat laced in his words, gently petting the area where he’s imagined a small bump will begin to show soon. 

They day you met Haechan and lost him broke your heart. The day you met Jeno turned your life upside down, discovered the shattered pieces and put them back together again, finally showing you what you’ve always secretly wished for.

“I love you Jeno.”

“I know.”

[d4rkpluto]

ᴀꜱᴛʀᴏʟᴏɢʏ ᴏʙꜱᴇʀᴠᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ ᴛᴡᴏ

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paid chart readings

these are observations i've made due to people i've been around and celebrity charts i have looked at x

♇ scorpio placements like to be praised for everything they've done.

♇ online personalities who have really loud personas usually have a sag placements, ex berleezy, trap celeb, oli london, ekane etc...

♇ during a solar return chart having a stellium or more than 4+ planets in your 1h means you will REALLY be in your head, might face a lot of mental challenges.

♇ people with beneficial planets in their 9h ex jupiter or venus, specifically, usually do okay within in education, like no matter how back they are, they always pass

♇ pisces placements can RAMBLE and talk for a long time without actually saying anything.

♇ pisces mars men, the worst. the ones i've come across usually don't know what they want. but pisces mars women >>>

♇ aries degrees, specifically the 13th degree could insinuate you could be the first person to do something. janice dickson has the 25th degree and she is known as the first supermodel, beverly johnson has the 1st degree and is known as the first black supermodel, eva is the first black woman to win america's next top model and she has the 13th degree.

♇ sagittarius placements... laughing and smiling for no reason...

♇ leo moons and having hair that grows fast. for example, my brother and my nephew are both leo moons and they can cut their hair and a month later it grows back to their shoulders. i believe this could apply to 5H moons.

♇ those who have their 12h ruler conj or positively aspect their moon do become famous, [moon rules over audience] ariana grande has moon conj venus and megan has moon conj mars. if there's a negative aspect, it is still a fame indicator, but they would like get their fame after, for example chapelle roan who has moon square mercury.

♇ a lot of cancer asc men are insecure. the ones i know pity themselves so much too.

♇ much sag sun women like to dance, could be sag in big 6 + jupiter as well

♇ a fixed sign specifically scorpio in the 11h is a strong indicator of having a big online platform. but the one that is stronger than that is having moon in the 11h, most people that have this placement or even cancer in the 11h told me that they have a big platform.

♇ people with saturn or lilith in the 7h might be put into uncomfortable situations with their friend and their friends s/o, like their s/o might always likes them.

♇ uranus in 3h people might like to make up languages? or learn new ones

♇ your jupiter persona chart can talk to you about your future spouse as jupiter is the main planet to look at when it comes to your wife/husband.

♇ nara smith has jupiter in cancer and her spouse is very domestic and traditional, he even helped her give birth to their newest child, whimsy lou.

♇ dove cameron has a gemini ascendant with the 12th degree [pisces degree] probably why people say she has so many faces, she also has a heavy 8h which points to she got many procedures, khloe kardashian has a gemini moon and is also said to have many faces, also have pluto in the 8h.

♇ scorpio placements really dont like it when you enter their room all the time.

♇ a lot of dhanistha moon women have upturned eyes, or like to wear eyelashes that give them that look.

♇ people who have moon in the 11h do friend-crush a lot.

♇ aries venuses are the type to hate the people they crush on, their feelings can be quick changing but it is still intense!

♇ the reason some virgo and cancer ascendants are normally confused with each other is because they both have cat faces.

♇ its funny that when jupiter in taurus was at its peak which is the 29th degree, chef-influencers became more known on social media.

♇ people with a strong sag+virgo combination could be obsessed with perfecting their future

♇ people with scorpio/aries in their chart are likely to become alcoholics.

♇ saturn in cancer natives are likely to be less submissive to men.

♇ people with moon in the 11h or have cancer in their 11h tend to have big followers online [can work if the ruler of your 11h is in cancer]

♇ the "rumours" are true, aries venuses do get disinterested pretty quickly.

♇ the 6H in astrology can tell you what kind of skills you have, for example, if you have a venusian ruled 6H [Libra, Taurus, Venus in 6H], you could be talented a makeup, fashion etc.

+ the kalogeras sisters have leo/sun influence in their chart and they're known for their curly hair, [leo rules the mane].

pluto

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[aajjks]

Desperado (m)

synopsis. There was no time for intimacy and jungkook learned the hard way.

warnings: MÄTÜRE THÈMÈS. YÄNDÊRÊ, DÄRK, mêntǐöns öf prẽgnâncy, mêntǐöns öf älmöst dy-ng dürïng chïldbïrth, obsěssïvè bëhävïöür, pössessïvênêss, jk ïs cräy cräy, cryïng, smüt (förëpläy), kïssïng, lüsty jk, he ïs jǔst hörny änd w-nts tö fück lmäo

note. I understand that this kind of a topic can be a sensitive topic for many of us, pregnancy is not something everyone is comfy reading about so viewer discretion is advised!

He never wanted you to get pregnant.

This was not supposed to happen,

Jungkook couldn’t help but glare at the tiny little sleeping human in the white crib as he sat right infront of it.

The baby’s chubby cheeks huffed as he took little breaths, a little hue of pink sprinkled over them.

how could he sleep so peacefully after ruining Jungkook’s life! Jungkook bit the inside of his cheeks in jealousy.

This tiny little brat has already taken you away from him. You were Jungkook’s only happiness but now ever since you gave birth, you are obsessed with this little devil.

You have forgotten about Jungkook completely. He who was the reason you got pregnant in the first place!

Jungkook regretted doing that… why can’t he ever control his lust when it comes to you, and now his lust was the result of the baby who was sleeping so peacefully right infront of him.

And now, here he is after so many sleepless nights to watch over the baby while you were busy showering. You are really paranoid and possessive when it comes to the child and it’s safety.

And you have made jungkook promised that he’s going to watch over the baby while you tend to your business.

Jungkook’s head hurts so much. When was the last time you guys had sex? He can’t even remember. It’s all gone now.

You have been snatched away from him and he can’t do anything! Jungkook will never understand why you wanted to have this baby anyways?!? You guys together were already perfect.

And not to forget that you both are still so young, and there was no need to hurry.

This child is a devil and you fail to see that! Having this baby almost killed you, your fragile self was not ready for it, Jungkook hated him so much, so fucking much.

But you have always so stubborn.

Your maternal side was something that Jungkook used to adore, because you were always so loving and caring towards him.

But now? Now that you were an actual mother, you completely neglect your boyfriend. Jungkook huffs in annoyance as the thoughts run through his mind.

You always wanted to become a mom.

His glare never left the baby who was soundly asleep, it was unfair that how much he looked like Jungkook, anyone could tell that that was his son.

It was undeniable. The baby even stole his face!

Jungkook hates his child so much!

Jungkook hated children, he always despised the idea of someone else coming in between you, you were always supposed to be his and only his!

Jungkook is a needy person and he knows that… he needs your love and attention like a little child, he is addicted to you, and now that his addiction isn’t being satisfied.

He is starting to lose his sanity.

“Y/N…” Jungkook whines into your warmth as he feels your fingers scratch his head, his warm breath hitting your tummy as his hands grabs wrap around it, his legs are resting onto yours as the man is on top you, laying so peacefully and your scent is calming his mind and your touch feels so good, His eyes are closed as he snuggles deeper and deeper into you.

Your hair is still wet, and you smell so fresh.

God… you smell so good, how much he’s missed this… you.

“Y/N…. I miss you so much..” You hear Jungkook speak in a broken tone, like he is so tired. “You don’t pay me any attention anymore, you don’t care for me anymore…” he cries, his head shaking to the sides, as he lifts his face up from your belly. “I need you so much… you don’t even make love to me anymore!”

He whines again, complaining as he looks into your eyes while you look at him with confusion, Jungkook stares at your face, he notices the tiredness, your eyes are absolutely tired, dark circles present. “Please love me too! You only care about him!” He groans as he nuzzles his face in your neck.

It tickles because hes breathing so heavily.

“When was the last time you touched me, do you even remember Y/N? Fuck… I ache for your touch on my body… please.” He could barely whisper, but his tone changes to a seductive one as he presses light butterfly kisses on your neck. You close your eyes as your heart clenches in guilt when you hear the desperation in his voice.

Even though he’s complaining most of the time, but he’s not completely wrong.

It is true that you have been neglecting him, heck, you love your baby so much that you have forgotten about Jungkook.

“I’m sorry baby… you are right… I’m sorry… but I’ve been so tired ever since… Ji-Hwan came into our lives… I’ve been super focused on him- “B-But what about me yn?” he cut you off, eyebrows furrowing as he removes his head from your neck, and he is glaring at you, “I should be your first priority!” Jungkook harshly says but when he sees you getting shocked at his sudden change in demeanor.

And now he feels guilty.

so his eyes soften, and he apologizes,

“But I can’t really blame you because you are so tired… please, let me make you feel good… you look like you need it.” Jungkook gets up from your body and takes your hand and guides it towards his crotch.

You gasp as you feel it.

“See? I’ve been so needy for you that your touch got me all hard… please kiss me, can I have a kiss now? Baby don’t you think that I deserve it?” Jungkook’s eyes are dark, hey bites his lower lip, eyes filled with lust, as he leans close to your face stopping his rambling.

He looks at your body, and he notices the dress that you’re wearing. It’s cruel how much you look good in that dress, it’s so simple yet so sexy.

Your lips were only a centimetre apart, until Jungkook connected them together, your lips immediately melt into his.

Jungkook doesn’t waste a second to take your breath away by sliding his tongue inside your mouth, exploring it, his tongue hitting every corner of your mouth.

His hands grab onto your breasts as he squeezes them, moaning into your mouth, his kiss only gets more feverish as he starts to grind close to your heat.

You moan lightly at the fraction, as he presses his lips to yours harder, moaning again.

“F-Fuck… you feel so good baby… need you now..” he cries, voice all breathy and you can’t help but whine in response, your body feels so hot.

His husky voice sends shivers down your spine, he pushes you into the bed as your lips finally disconnect after what felt like hours.

Jungkook quickly takes off his shirt as he climbes on top of you, impatient and hungry.

His hand plays with the strap of your floral dress, but it’s been so long that his warm hands feel so cold and, foreign to you. “Fuck fuck fuck!” He curses in excitement as he pulles you in another kiss.

Your lips connecting together once again, Jungkook groans in desire. His strong hands grip on your shoulders so tightly that you welp in pain.

“Sorry baby can’t really contain myself… I need to be inside you so bad!” His voice was laced with lust, he was almost crying, his apology is rushed.

But as soon as his hands are between your legs, his fingers taking your panties off, you’re waiting in anticipation, And he’s almost taken them off,

I can’t believe that he’ll finally get to have sex with you after so long. His heartbeat is so loud and he is so impatient but then the luck isn’t really on his side, because you guys hear the baby monitor beep, and your senses awaken immediately in realisation.

“Jungkook get off! He’s awake, he must be hungry!” You push the man off you as you quickly get up,

Not giving a chance for Jungkook to react or even comprehend, what just happened now, he’s watching you with shock in his eyes,, you exit the room while fixing your dress before, he can call out your name.

And behind you, Jungkook cries, cussing out loudly, growling,

“FUCK MY LIFE.” with a raging boner.

[thehauntedetheral]

hi,can you make a yandere actor with a reader that is not famous, he is really pretty and the reader starts to suffer atacks for not being "pretty enough for him", she is already insecure and wants to break up but he is too much in love and obsessed with her for let it that happenss so he goes on public to stop the attacks, but he ends up saying things like, if she asks him he would abandon his career in a second and other stuffs and even the public realizes his obssesion.

Yandere Actor

Requests are open !

• Yan is a superstar. Crazy fans, blockbuster movies, critic's favourite, handsome, Money, Fame, Glory he have everything. He is the definition of boys want to be him and girls wanting to be with him.

• But what he didn't have was a person to call his love, his home. Many times when he is alone he craves it more than anything.

• People around him were so fake and greedy that he has given up on the idea to ever find his person.

• Until one day he meets you. You were the supporting actress of his new project. You were not a famous actress but a underrated one.

• You and yan had very few scenes together in the film so very rarely he would see you be sets while filming his scenes.

• He loved how you were so passionate for your work. How you are still underrated and unrecognised is still beyond him.

• Whenever he saw you on set his mood would automatically cheer up. You were like a ray of light. Bright and warm according to him.

• He would often come to set early than his scheduled time just to get a glimpse of you.

• Intentionally would ask you questions about some scenes written in the script when he understood everything he just wanted a reason to talk to you, to hear your voice.

• His day started with waking up and your thoughts filling his mind and ended with seeing dreams about you in his sleep.

• After the filming got over and the whole crew was celebrating at a restaurant. He asked you out on date.

• At first you thought he was pranking with you. Because you were not beautiful or famous like the other actresses he work with.

• Even after you politely saying no to him due to your low self esteem issue. He kept asking you for a chance. Finally you gave in.

• Slowly you two were growing closer to each other going on dates secretly, texting, video calling each other on sets, spending quality time together and much more.

• You both were dating secretly. As you didn't wanted a controversy before the release of film because the public were crazy for the couple of yan and the another actress of the movie that was about to release. People shipped them two like crazy, praying they become couple in real life and if they got to know you were dating yan it would be a recipe for disaster and hate for you. So yes you decided to date secretly even though yan wants to scream at the top of his lung and tell to the whole world that you are his girlfriend.

• The thing you feared the most happened. Some paparazzi clicked photos of you and yan in a private restaurant eating together and kissing.

• Now it was all over the media. The shippers of the yan and another actress were spreading hate for you on internet. Yan fan's were heartbroken that he was dating an non famous actress with an average looking face.

"eww why is he even dating her???? she looks so ugly and has no fashion sense"

"Yan is so handsome he can get anyone why her?"

"She is the reason between yan and other actress not being couple god I hate her"

"Please yan come to your senses and leave that ugly looking stick"

"Yan you deserve better"

"Yan and other actress are meant to be together not this ugly actress who no one knows about"

"She is just using him to get fame. After all she became famous now after dating him no one knew about her before"

• Seeing all this hate comment it made you cry and think that yan deserves someone like him famous and beautiful not you who people don't even know about and is average looking.

• Seeing you cry breaks yan's heart. He can't see you his angel, his light crying. He takes you in his arms holding your face delicately in his hands and wiping your tears.

"Baby for me you are the most beautiful women on this earth. They don't deserve you hell even I don't deserve you but I will always try till my last breath to prove how greatful I am to have you. You are beautiful inside out. You are smart, funny, kind , you are the girl of my dreams, my future wife, and future mother of our children. All those people are fools, love. Even if all of them combined together they still won't be able to hold a candle to your beauty and personality. Even the moon's beauty fade infront of you my darling. Don't believe those fools" yan said kissing you making you a bit smile.

"Take some rest,darling. You must have been exhausted by crying for this stupid people." He says and cuddle you to sleep. After making sure that you have fallen into deep slumber he leaves quietly to make all this people pay for hurting you.

• He hires a famous expensive lawyer and comments on social media "Whoever will say or comment any bad about my girlfriend I will sue them and drag their ass to court. So think before you do anything."

• His lawyer is already in process to sue everyone on internet for trolling you.

• In all his promotions and interviews he would constantly talk about you and tell how lucky he is to have her and that you are perfect.

• He also warns every one that if someone even looks at you in a wrong way he would personally handle them. ( Meaning dragging that person to an abandoned place and beating them until the person says that y/n is the best)

• Whenever you two were out together he would wrap his arms all around your body embracing you to protect from paparazzi.

• One time a paparazzi harassed you and pushed you making you fall down while taking photos and asking questions. The next day that paparazzi is tied and in Yan's basement.

• Everyone were shocked with how much yan is obsessed with you. In an interview he even said that "He would leave his successful career and move to another country for you".

• He even planned the move away but you put a stop on it.

• This man would even leave the world for you if you want. He just loves you too much that it makes him hard to breathe just thinking about you leaving him.

• He is so obsessed with you that now people were scared to even approach or say something about you.

• This man made sure that no one I repeat no one ever say bad about you. Ever. After all you are his darling. He won't let anyone hurt you.

For more yandere reading:

[yummymitzy]

What is your problem?

Summary: Reader had recently settled in the Avengers Tower to be with her brother, Tony. What if a certain redhead expresses a form of hatred towards the new Avenger? Or was it really hate?

WC: 2,494

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader

————♡ ————

Taking a step back, you admire your handiwork of your new room in the compound. The room was simple, not too much where it was plain, but just enough so it would feel comfortable. You didn’t feel like going all out on decorations, finding it easier to buy or collect them as time goes on. 

A knock on the door sounded through the room, snapping you out of your thoughts as you turn to head to the door. To your dismay it was Tony, one hand on the handle of the door, the other holding a takeout box with shawarma.

“You do know that we had shawarma last night right?”You asked, leaning on the door while raising an eyebrow at Tony. His obsession with shawarma was honestly outrageous.

“Yeah, but it’s shawarma. Now hurry it up, it’s going to get cold.” He says trying to move past you into your room until you grab him by his shoulders and turn him around to face the door.

“Oh no, we are not eating in my room. You eat like a damn pig.” You laugh as he huffs before speeding out your door, rushing you.

“Just speed it up, i’m hungry and you’re not making it any better by standing around.” He rolls his eyes, practically rushing the both of you to the kitchen before he instantly unpacks the food and grubbing.

You were barely one bite into your food before a redheaded woman with slightly wavy hair passed by in a hoodie and jeans, getting a glass of water. The woman looked familiar but you just couldn’t put your finger on it. 

The most embarrassing part was that you remember people by their faces, usually not their names, so this wasn’t really a bright moment for you.

“Y/n, you’re staring, and the foods getting cold, you better start eating before your food becomes mine.” Tony says in a hushed whisper, pointing a fork in your direction, before he starts digging back in his food. Either he noticed you looking at her and didn’t say anything, or he just wants your food.

The redhead hears the mention of your name and looks over at the both of you briefly, before leaving the room with the cup of water in her hand. You on the other hand picked at your food for a few minutes before starting to eat. 

You honestly don’t know how you finished your food before Tony, you know maybe he could be savoring it? Who knows? Obviously you wouldn’t, the rest of the time you and Tony were in the kitchen, the redhead was stuck on your mind. Was it bad that you desperately wanted to bump into her again?

————♡————

Soon enough you find yourself waking up from your nap. You wonder if Tony had put something in the shawarma because you knocked out not too long after you two ate and played games.

“Oh shit.” You mumble, completely remembering that you and Tony were supposed to be training  at 3, and it was 5 minutes to three. Jumping up from your bed, you run over to your closet and pull out grey sweats and a tanktop. 

As soon as you get changed you grab your phone and rush out the door. Once you turn the corner to the elevator, you bump into something and red covers your view. Taking a good look at the person you bumped into, your eyes widen a fraction. 

It had been the same redheaded woman from the kitchen. Had somebody heard your prayers of seeing her again? You really did hope so.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you, was kind of in a rush.” You say after a few seconds of silence between you two.

“Just watch where you’re going next time.” She scowls, making you raise your eyebrows slightly at the hostility. You may have deserved it but that shit was honestly rude, how would you have known somebody else would be down the hall?

“Yeah. Forsure.” You say in a bitter tone. Had she been this irritating with Tony or everybody else? You brush it off as you push past her, everything but stomping your way to the training room as you see Tony on one of the benches, making you calm down slightly.

As you and him finish wrapping your hands, you both head inside the ring to spar. As you throw a fake left hook, you send your right fist into his stomach, ducking under his arm and kicking his feet from under him. 

“Tony do you know who the red head is?” You question as you hold out a hand for Tony, lifting him up in the process.

“Yeah, that’s Natasha. Why? Did you already meet her?” Goddamnit, that was Natasha Romanoff! At least you had a name to put to the face but holy shit she was rude. You were going to let it slide anyway, since you did deserve a little of it,  right?

“Yes, right when I was headed here, I bumped into her by accident. And she just gave me hell of an attitude.” You grumble, the emotions from earlier rising, before you shrug it off. 

You and Tony get into position again and circle around each other in the ring. He starts talking soon enough which makes your eyes roll. He just had to talk while either one of you were going to punch each other? “Just shrug it off. Romanoff’s been like that, it’s cause you’re new.”

You side-step Tony as he throws a punch towards you, you instantly turn. Grabbing the nape of his neck and kicking his feet from under him again, you pin hin down on the mat, your knee in the middle of his back.

“Just forget it. It ain’t my problem, she wanna be like that towards me then fine.” You and him go a few rounds more until you step out. As you hell him up and walk out the ring, straight towards the benches as you grab your water bottle. Shit you forgot to refill it on the way here.

“I’ll be back, my waters out, have to go refill it.” You yell as you’re already a foot out the door. As you turn to the hallway to the right of the door, you notice Natasha approaching. Your face hardens slightly as you don’t acknowledge her. 

From your peripheral you can see confusion plastered on her face. Serves her right, You mean like she asked you to watch where you go, but when you do, she all confused? Which is it then?

————♡————

-One week Later-

Training was easy as fuck, you couldn’t tell if it was just easy or Tony made it easy by simply sparring with you. You were back in your room, just lounging in for a while before you decide to get up and probably go look for Peter. 

You and Peter had always got along, once Tony introduced you to him, he soon became one of your closest friends, but definitely below Tony. “Hey Friday, do you know where Peter is?”

“Mr. Parker is currently in the living room, Ms. Stark.” 

“Thanks Friday” As you take the elevator down to the living room. The thing is, once the doors open to the living room, one thing Friday forgot to mention was that Natasha was there with him. Great.

You sigh as you walk towards the couch, lightly slapping the back of Peter’s neck as you jump over the back of the couch onto the cushions next to him. “Hey Pete!”

“What the hell was that for?” He grumbles rubbing the back of his neck. Natasha glancing at you from across the couch before turning back to the bond movie that’s playing.

“Just wanted to fuck with you. You wanna play Mario Kart?” You ask, waving the game in your hand as he thinks about his answer.

“Go easy on me!” Peter says as he snatches the game from your hand, causing you to dramatically scoff and putting your hand on your chest before turning your attention to Natasha.

“Hey, Natasha, you want to play with us?” You ask, trying to lighten up the air between you two. You both may not have gotten a good impression on each other but you still wanted to ease that up, not wanting to be mean with somebody you just met.

Natasha stays quiet but she switches seats, moving to the same couch you and Peter were sat on but kept a slight distance between you and her. That’s fine, at least it was some progress, right? As you hold out a controller for her to take, she snatches it. Well nevermind.

You brush it off as Peter starts off the game immediately, but you were going to have a talk with her once you all were done. 

As soon as the game started, you caught up with ease, leaving Natasha and Peter in the back as you race through the streets of Toad Harbor. You can hear Peter mumbling cuss words next to you as he gets hit with numerous shells, while Natasha is quiet on your other side. 

Starting your third lap, Peter was in the middle of his second lap, while Natasha was catching up to you at the end of her second lap. You couldn’t even deny it, she was pretty good at Mario kart, could make you believe that she could beat Tony at it.

You’re halfway to the finish line and you relax in the couch, leaning back into the cushions as your confidence grows. Until your character gets hit with a shell. A blue shell.

Thinking it was another player, you realize it was Natasha who passed by you as you get stunned.  You cursed under your breath as you sat up on the couch, accelerating the speed of your character.

From the corner of your eye, you can see Natasha smirking as she remained ahead of you. But your hope increases by the second as you grab another item box, receiving bullet bill. 

You grin as you equip bullet bill, so incredibly grateful that you got the item as it turns your character into a bullet, flying past Natasha’s character and stunning her as you flew into the finish line.

“Ahah!” You laugh, setting down the controller on the table as you stand. Peter slouches back into the couch as he pout, while Natasha sets down her controller too and just stares ahead with an expressionless face.

“You said you’d go easy!” Peter whined as he kept complaining about his loss, crossing his arms.

“I did no such thing as agreeing though.” You shrug, proud of my accomplishment. Before remember earlier incident with Natasha, as you turn to her.

“Hey Natasha, can I speak to you alone?” You ask in a gentle tone, trying to be nice but it just didn’t seem to work out as she looks up to you with a scowl planted on her face, before leaving to the kitchen. You took that as a yes and followed her there.

“What the hell is your problem, Natasha? I’m trying to be nice here but you always just have the need to lash out at me.” You narrow your eyes at her, trying to understand her as you cross your arms across your chest.

“I don’t have a problem with you.” She huffs as she mimics you, crossing her arms too.

“That! That right there! Thats exactly what I’m talking about, you’re always huffing and puffing at me whenever I try to be nice to you or invite you into something with other people.” You exclaim as your eyebrows furrow, starting to get more irritated by the second by this.

Something flickers in Natasha’s eyes briefly as her face falters for a split second before it immediately snaps back, her eyebrows furrowing. “What if maybe I don’t want anything to do with you.” She hisses, making your eyebrows raise in shock as she turns her back to you.

She’s only one step away from you as you grab her wrist, swiftly turning her around to face you once more. “You aren’t leaving this room until you tell me why the hell you’re acting like this towards me. Is it because I’m related to Tony, cause I can’t do anything to change the fact that I’m his sister.”

Natasha’s face quickly turns into one of shock as she feels something in the pit of her stomach, was it guilt? She wasn’t sure. “No!” She coughs trying to cover up how loud she was when she said that. “No. It never was about how you’re related to Tony, why would you think that? I…I just….”

You raise an eyebrow towards her, unfolding your arms to rest them at your sides as you calm down slightly. Natasha seemed different than how she acted before, it couldn’t be guilt, what was it? “You just?” You said in a more gentler tone, deciding that you should be more patient with her.

“I just.. It’s hard coming to terms with my emotions. It’s all I’m familiar with, I always just react before I even put any thought into it…I don’t actually hate you, Y/n.”

Your eyes flicker between all the features of her face, trying to get a read on her, understand her.  Natasha was opening up to you? Hell you were sure nobody ever saw her this vulnerable, obviously other than Clint, but you understood though. It was hard managing emotions, especially for you, you and Tony both harbored terrible anger issues and anxiety.

“Then why were you so hostile with me, Natasha?” You weren’t even sure if your tone could get any softer than it is now.

“I just thought that if I distanced myself from you and never interacted with you that it could… stop whatever the hell i’m feeling.” She whispered during the last six words, but you still managed to hear it due to your close proximity. Something you never realized until now.

You were face to face, your breaths practically mixing in together with how close you two were. As you processed her words one by one, you smiled softly, leaning in to the point your noses were slightly brushing.

“And what is it you’re feeling, Tasha?” Gently pushing her to say it as you look down at her. You didn’t know it, but the change from her full name to a nickname sent butterflies in her stomach, she never knew how good it sounded with the nickname falling through your lips.

“I may have taken a liking to you, Y/l/n.” She muttered, her confidence coming back to her at full speed as she smirked up at you through her eyelashes with her gorgeous emerald eyes. You grinned as you hear her say those words, resulting you to lean in impossibly closer. 

“I like you too, Romanoff.” You mutter against her lips as you give her a sweet kiss. The kiss was slow and full of love, there wasn’t any rush between you as she moves her hands to cup your jaw, yours moving down to her waist and pulling her into your body, the kiss becoming more passionate the more you both continue.

You could honestly get used to this.

[idolomantises]

I haven't drawn Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss redesigns since last year and the fandom still regularly tags me/picks fights with me over them. I did not think a couple drawings would live in people's heads so rent free.

Like you can go find my redesigns on twitter, they're still very public. I just label them as "Angel Dust redesign" or "Alastor redesign". The only time I think I explicitly called a design bad was when I said I found Beelzebub's design atrocious. Which it is. It's an overdesigned mess that doesn't convey the sin at all, I'm allowed to say I don't like it. And even still, when I posted the art, I still labeled it as "Beelzebub redesign".

I'm not going to forget when you fans regularly stalked my account and PATREON just to figure out when I would upload the redesigns. You think I forgot about when I posted my Angel Dust redesign which was just meant to improve my old design and you people harassed me for days? You accused me of "baiting" fans because you are so self-obsessed you think everything I do is explicitly to upset you. You people misgendered me, told me to kill myself, called me a fucking cockroach and flat out threatened to assault me multiple times. Sure I was harsh about my critiques, but I didn't resort to homophobic and transphobic comments like you people did with my Angel Dust redesign because for some unexplained reason you diehard fans who have been following this project for 10 years didn't know that he's meant to be a drag queen. When I did a quick redesign of Katie Killjoy on my personal tumblr, guess what? You people flipped the fuck out, AGAIN.

I can't even talk about my own religion without you sad, paranoid losers thinking I'm trashtalking hazbin hotel. You made up some rumor that I block all Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss fans (despite being mutuals/friends with people who are fans of the shows or actually work on them) just so you could justify harassing me even more. You told me for years that I should wait until the Hazbin series dropped to get my full thoughts out and when it did you people still freaked out and berated me.

Even when I talked about my situation after posting my Angel Dust redesign, instead of apologizing, fans claimed I planned this hostile reaction to begin with to make the fandom look bad. That I was "pulling a transphobia card" for sympathy. I didn't do shit. You people have gotten more aggressive about your hate towards me because people finally saw how incredibly inappropriate and vile you people act over a midtier cartoon written by someone who has so many allegations of bullying, transphobia, racism and workplace abuse that it's become harder and harder for you to deny, so you take out your unrepressed anger on me.

I know the only reason you people target me is because I'm a big artist who doesn't kiss Viv's ass. You want me to be a diehard fan of hers like every other big artist you people bully into worshipping Viv and her show and I won't do it. So you just obsessively stalk and monitor my account and accuse every little thing I do as a spiteful attack so you can justify your little harassment campaigns again. It's pathetic.

Seek help, find a hobby, stop obsessing over people who don't like the same thing as you. It's getting sad.

[mouwrites]

Thinking thoughts about these guys again

Creepypasta/MH - Things That Make Them Think of You

Characters: Jeff the Killer, Jane the Killer, Clockwork, Nina the Killer, Tim/Masky, "Ticci" Toby

Jeff the Killer

Violence. Specifically, committing it

I know that sounds bad, but he gets so high off of that stuff

The adrenaline rushing through his veins, the wild smile that comes to his face, the noise, the sights... it's euphoria for him

And when he reaches his peak, endorphins at maximum saturation, that's when he thinks of you

It's almost like he subconsciously asks himself if there's anything in the world that could make him happy like this, and his subconscious responds by conjuring an image of you

As if he couldn't get any happier, thinking of you just pushes him higher

This happens a lot...

He'll be killing someone, already over the moon, then he'll blast to Mars when he thinks of you

And he starts associating you with violence; even if you're the gentlest person in the world

It's the happiness it brings him that links it to you

Though if you're a psycho (affectionate) like him, there might be another reason he associates it with you lol

It just gets worse over time; eventually he can't even see other people committing violent acts without thinking of you

He'll be watching a horror movie, and blood will splatter the screen and he'll be like: Nice. Y/n's nice too. Y/n... <3

Jane the Killer

Quite the opposite of Jeff; it's the quiet moments that get her thinking of you

(my reasoning is confusing but I'll try my best to explain T-T)

And there are two reasons for this

One, because whenever she gets a moment to think to herself, her brain always wants to think of you first

Maybe it's just hunting that hit of dopamine it gets when she imagines your smile, or the way your hands feel in hers...

Or maybe it's just that it's become a habit for her to think of you so often, so it's second-nature that she does so when she gets the chance

But the second reason is that she loves peace, and you are her peace :)

She's a vengeful person with a lot of turmoil inside, so when her environment is peaceful, she tries to follow suit

She's just taking what she can get before she has to go back to hate and obsession

So she imagines the peaceful things in her life

Namely, you

Even if you're not a very peaceful person, she feels at ease when she's with you

So, when it's quiet, she thinks of you to quiet herself

Memories of forehead touches and holding hands are more than enough to fill the silence :)

Clockwork

Literally everything.

I’ve mentioned this in a previous post, but Clockwork will find the most random things that remind her of you

She’s got a very creative mind; she can find the subtlest of things that make her think of you

Oftentimes they’ll be disturbing things…. Like a dead animal or smth

But she gets a little smile when she thinks of you anyway :)

She’ll probably send you a picture of whatever it was that reminded her of you

So you’ll just get a text out of nowhere like:

[picture of a dead wasp] “thought of you <3”

After a while you’ll learn to just not ask

Because you’ll definitely get one of these texts AT LEAST every other day, if not every day

Sometimes they’re actually nice things though! Like a song or a pretty sunset :)

Or something she saw while shopping that made her think of you; she always makes sure to steal …obtain those things

And ofc she gifts them to you 😌

Nina the Killer

I think it depends on your aesthetic

To me, Nina is someone who’s very in tune with aesthetics

Even if yours is super niche, or it doesn’t fit under a specific category like “emo” or “butch” or even “clowncore,” she’s got it DOWN

And so it’s always things that fit your aesthetic that make her think of you

Maybe it’s a view: a dark forest, a bright sunset in your favorite color, a sunny park, an eerily empty sidewalk…

Maybe it’s clothing: pants, shirts, dresses, jackets… always the exact kind of thing you’d wear :)

Maybe it’s music: she listens to music like. All the time. So she’s definitely at least dipped her toes into a genre that’s so totally you

Or maybe it’s something miscellaneous: a pop tart flavor, a blanket, a picture, the color on a soda dispenser…

No matter what it is, you’re guaranteed to love it

She always manages to surprise you with yet another random thing perfectly suited to your aesthetic

And she’s always on the hunt for more >;)

If it’s something she can physically bring to you, you best believe she will though

And if you decide you hate it (you won’t, but maybe later when your aesthetic changes), you guys light a bonfire and burn it together :)

Tim/Masky

It’s a Polaroid picture of you

He’s not in the picture; it’s just you

The flash is on, illuminating you and leaving the background in dark obscurity

He took it himself one night when he was just enamored with the way you looked

He did it casually, just telling you to look at the camera

The rest was all you; maybe you smiled, maybe you threw up a peace sign…

Whatever you did, he felt it captured your essence perfectly

He stared at the photo for a long time after it came out, and he still stares at it frequently

He carries it deep in his wallet where no one can find it

He’ll pull it out when he needs to think of you, usually when he’s especially down

Which is pretty often, my boy is troubled :(

He’ll trace his fingers around the edges, remembering that night

Your voice fills his ears, your scent fills his nose, and suddenly he’s aching to see you in person again

And he will; he’ll probably call or text you soon :)

“Ticci” Toby

Honestly? Probably something super obscure related to some kind of inside joke between you two

I’ll paint an example

Maybe you two were in the kitchen together, and you wanted him to get out the milk for you

But you ended up calling it a “mug of jilk” instead of a “jug of milk”

Toby, of course, bursts into laughter

He teases you for ages afterwards, calling milk “jilk” and always pointing out jugs of milk with a knowing grin

You’re in on it too though

You always snicker whenever he does those things

Maybe that’s why it becomes so special to him; it amuses the both of you

He gets to laugh and hear you laugh :D

So (in this case) he’ll think of you whenever he sees a mug of j (oh gosh oh no you guys got me too) jug of milk

And he probably takes pictures to send you too

You’ll just get a text that says “jilk mugs spotted ‼️” and a picture of the milk aisle at the grocery store

He likes to imagine your laugh when he sends texts like those :)

Thank you so much for reading!! Take care my lovey doves <33

(divider by saradika)

[toast-on-dandelioms]

Hello, I really a fans of your work and always waiting for the updates. I have a question, what happen if Y/n just ignore the batfam as Y/n also turn to superfam becoming their family. It also assuming Alfred A-Okay with it. Oh, also Y/n might be have relationship with one of the superboys and she love to cuddle with the lover. Well, that's just my wild imagination thinking about.

Oh well, I hope you have great days.❤️😘

Thank you for liking my work! If you're asking for part 4, it will come out soon and probably by the end of next week!

Well, I don't think Alfred would be totally a-okay with this and after a bit he would act to 'fix' the situation.

He wants you to stay at the Manor and be appreciated too by the Batfam even though they don't even know you exist.

He has tried before, talking about you to Bruce and the others but they always dismissed him with the excuse of being busy or forgetting about you the next day.

And seeing you giving up on being with your real family and finding love in another family that actually accepts you and he can't accept that.

You're supposed to be with him as the rest of the Waynes not with some alien family.

He would act like he supports you whenever you come to visit him since you mostly live with the Kents nowadays and come to the Manor to grab the things you needed since you were moving your stuff from the Manor to the Kents house.

After a while you start to come home, to come back to him even less before you just visit him maybe once a month before it turns into no more visiting him since you're busy with school, dance classes and the vigilante role you still have.

And Alfred hates it so he decides that he can't stand to watch his boys obsess over your vigilante persona when they can't even bother to notice you weren't living in the Manor anymore.

So he decides to call a family meeting without your knowledge and explains everything, who you were behind the mask and how dissapointed and ashamed that the people he raised didn't even acknowledge that you existed.

Their reaction, which were mostly of confusion before realisation bothered him but he stayed silent and used their reaction to manipulate them, make them think you weren't in the right place with the Kent family.

And after a week from that meeting, you started to receive texts from all the batfam and also kept seeing them everywhere, with Bruce at school or when you were patrolling the city.

He would always try to talk to you, which you ignored or gave him the finger while swinging away, preferring to not engage in his tries to connect with you.

Plus he would show up at your dance recitals when you never said anything to Alfred about them and he would always be right in first row with a smug smile since he knew you couldn't do anything.

Plus you already knew they knew who you were behind the mask, they said your name when you had your mask on so many times you wanted to punch their faces.

You had to skip a few days of school because Tim and Damian started to show up at your same highschool and sitting next to you in class, to which no one would say anything and it frustrated you since highschool was one of your safe places but not anymore.

You tried to ignore Dick and Jason's attempts at stalking you, not because it was noticeable since you never saw them but the spider sense made you aware you were being watched and after a bit you were able to notice them following you.

Yes you did feel proud since you didn't have any detective training like the others but still knew who was following just by using the things around you.

You vented your frustrations with Clark and Conner and they did help by letting you skip school and everything but you had to go back to school or it would affect your attendance and damage your reputation and curriculum for future colleges applications.

But one fateful day, you went to a mission with Conner and Clark since they needed a third person but couldn't bring Jon since he was busy with school, so you went in his place.

During the mission you got ambushed, Conner and Clark were at disadvantage since the attackers (not sure on the term, the people that attacks) somehow had kryptonite weapons.

Plus you were also fighting, using the tasers and also the objects around you like rocks or trees.

Yes, you did throw a tree at a group of them and you also got Clark telling you not to do it again. Did you listen though? No.

As you were fighting you suddenly got stung by something in the leg, and when you touched the spot where it hurt you saw a small dart there.

You opened your mouth to call for Clark or Conner but someone covered your mouth and held you as you fainted while Clark and Conner had to flee since the attackers were too strong with the kryptonite.

The last thing you saw was the smiling face of Dick before completely giving in the drug you got injected in your body, not hearing them fight about who was gonna carry you in the batmobile.

[urfavleo777]

colby brock smut alphabet

pairing: colby brock × fem!reader. posting one more time.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) He'll let you catch your breath and after will be so affectionate and sweet, nuzzling his head into your neck and giving you little kisses. “You make me feel safe” after fucking the soul out of you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) His arms and his throat, for obvious reason too. He knows his arms are one hell of a looker, and he loves the way you grip them for dear life as he shows you a good time. Taking a dominant role, he tries not to reveal how much he sinks into the ground when you passionately kiss his neck. The way he rolls his eyes shows how pleased he is, but no more than for a fraction of a second. He wants to see you writhing beneath him and not take his eyes off you even for a millisecond. As for you, he treats your body like a goddamn sculpture. He’s totally obsessed with your thighs. He loves to squeeze, kiss and bite them just to tease you. And it always works.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) He loves it when you give him head, loves the way his warm seed spills between your lips as you try to swallow it. He loves grabbing your roughly by your chin, smashing his lips onto yours to get a taste of himself. He is absolutely a slut for eating you out and he would go on and on about how good you taste.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) He actually enjoys being a sub quite a lot. Even though he prefers to dominate, you can't count how many times he called you “mommy” when you were taking care of him. After giving him commands, he acts like an obedient puppy. Phrases like “Who's momma’s good boy?” only make him weaker.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) He exactly knows your sensitive spots and there is no way he doesn't know what in hell he's doing. He's charming and knows how to use it to get what he wants, even if it's just a quick handjob or blowjob.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) “I want to sit on your face.” He’s already sold. And when you sit on his face, all of the joyful things he loves about oral sex become magnified. You love being admired by him, which gives him a lot of pleasure. He keeps a bruising grip on your thighs, adoring the creases and valleys that your body makes.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) More than you'd think. He’s definitely a tease, so there will be moments where he pokes a bit of fun and the occasional ominous sadist smile.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) He tries to keep up the maintenance, but sometimes he forgets. He doesn’t expect someone to shave for him if they don’t want to. He’s just glad you enjoy having sex with him.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) He is more filthy and mouthy than romantic during sex. He likes to hear you call him ‘daddy’ and ‘sir.’ I think after sex, he’s all goofy and romantic. He gives you lots of praises and romantic words.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Well, if he's horny, he just goes to you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Choking, daddy kink, and cockwarming are Colby’s all-time favorites. He loves choking you, but if you say your safe word, he’ll drop everything and make sure you are okay. Colby loves nicknames, but he loves hearing you call him “Daddy”. He just wants to protect you, and of course, he loves the baby girl and daddy kink role play.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Colby isn’t the most adventurous when it comes to location. He would hate to give anyone some leverage over him, especially regarding his personal life so he keeps the private places. But when at home it’s a different story; the bed, the shower, the bath, any counter or table, his libido could rise at any moment leaving you with very little time before he’s pressing you down on the nearest surface, always making sure to keep his eyes on you at all times.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) When someone else flirts with his partner. He gets jealous very easily, despite what some might think. He would protectively slide his arm around your waist and introduce himself as your boyfriend, even if he isn’t. Another simple thing that would get him going is when his partner calls him Cole, preferably in a sweet little whine.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) He would never do anything to hurt you. Yeah, he's into pain, but only when it comes to himself. He can't bare the idea of doing anything to inflict pain upon you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Oh he definitely prefers receiving. Pulling your hair behind your head to help guide you, feeling you gag around him struggling to take his length he loves all of it. And, oh my god, seeing you on your knees sucking him off is truly one of the most beautiful sights he has ever witnessed.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) He fucks you hard and fast, so rough and brutal that you’re seeing stars.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) He tires you out good and proper pretty much every single time he fucks you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Colby’s pretty loud. He whimpers, moans, groans, sometimes growls, pants a lot. It honestly spurs you on more when you hear what sounds he makes.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Colby could fall asleep quite quickly afterwards, but he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he knew you were okay and well looked after. He stays awake longer than you most nights, watching sleep take you.