#some details bothered me too much so i fixed them

[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

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

[ohdeerfully]

K hear me out, a wife! Reader x Alastor and Charlie finds out they had a kid when they were alive. (I don’t mind what the kids name is but make them young and passed due to Spanish flu, dark I know)

omg this has been sitting in my drafts so long, i love requests like this </3 im sorry if it seems rushed, i really wanted to finish it!

Mourning Dove

Alastor x Reader (angst, slight comfort at end) TW: CHILD DEATH, child sickness, reader referred to as a woman but doesnt effect story too much join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══

You sat yourself unceremoniously at the bar in the hotel lobby, shoulders slouched and cheek squished against the cold countertop. You weren’t one for alcohol, but you didn’t mind the company of Husk. He didn’t say much unless prompted, but that didn’t bother you. It was nice, honestly, after a day of dealing with the others.

“Somethin’ the matter?” Okay. Nevermind about him not saying much.

“Hmm?” You responded, barely peeking up from your finger that dragged patterns in the surface you laid against. “I’m good.”

“You don’t look it,” Husk observed, and you knew he was referring to the discoloration of your eyes and the residual dampness of your cheeks from crying. Your hair was a mess, too. Yeah, you looked like shit. “Tough day?”

“I guess, yeah,” You sighed, pushing yourself up and leaning back in a stretch while your fingers gripped the countertop to steady yourself. “Just thinking about… Y’know.”

He didn’t pry, and you were thankful for that. Husk did know a little, actually, and knew better than to push for more details. After being stuck with Alastor for so long, with the guy owning his soul and all, he inevitably learned some deep shit about him and, by extension, you. He just grunted in response and went back to spot cleaning his bottles of booze.

“(Y/N)!” A chipper voice called your name, and you squeezed your eyes shut in frustration. You thought you were done with all of this for the day, and you were so ready to just go to sleep. “I wanted everybody to join me for dinner today! We have a few new residents, so I want everybody to meet each other.”

You squeezed your lips to prevent a harsh word from responding to Charlie’s invitation. You were so tired. You feigned a weak smile and looked at her. You wanted to say no, to say you needed to sleep, but those huge, pleading eyes of hers caught the rejection in your throat. You tried to reason with yourself that Charlie doesn’t host stuff like this very often. It would just be one night. You’ll survive.

“Okay.” 

She clasped her hands together and jumped on the balls of her feet, thanked you, and took off to find the next resident to invite. You held your head against your hand and you sighed dramatically. Husk looked at you from the corner of his eye, but opted to remain silent. You stood up after a few more minutes of quiet sulking, deciding you should fix yourself up for dinner.

In your room, you gently fixed your hair and threw on a casual outfit. Nothing super nice, just in case food started flying–knowing the antics of some of the hotel residents, it wouldn’t be a surprise.

You slowly made your way to the banquet room, which Charlie had installed for events like today. You could already hear the low murmur of small talk, and you were surprised to see a few new faces. Not a whole lot, just about five, alongside the familiar faces of your friends. Charlie’s hotel was, slowly but surely, becoming more successful.

You spotted Alastor quickly–he was hard to miss due to his height. You settled yourself in a chair next to him at a long table that Charlie had dragged into the room for everybody to sit at. You felt your skin prickle with the familiar sensation of static, which increased slightly as his attention turned towards you. He gave you a grin before focusing his eyes on the racket that was already picking up. You watched his smile curl, a bit sinister, as the sound of shouting caught your attention.

“-my fuckin’ business!” You picked up the tail end of Angel Dust fuming at Vaggie, one pair of arms crossed under his chest. He had a third hand on his hip, with his fourth hand jabbing an accusatory point at the woman in front of him.

“Guys, please!” Charlie pleaded, pressing her shoulder against Vaggie’s in an attempt to move her away from Angel. “I don’t want to scare my new guests away!”

“Tell this bitch to keep her nose outta my shit! I can’t have my fuckin’ life on the line because she doesn’t like my job!” Angel spat. There was a dangerous, maybe even frantic, look in his eyes. Before Charlie could say anything, Angel had spun around and stormed to the table. He ripped the chair out and slammed his body down. All four of his arms were crossed now as he glowered at the wooden tabletop.

You sighed, and felt a headache already forming. 

Angel’s spirits quickly changed when Husk sulked into the room. He had his paws stuffed in his pockets, and glared at the air in front of him. He sat down at the other end of the table, but Angel was quick to stand up and saunter his way over to sit next to the cat. You couldn’t quite catch the flirtatious remarks that made Husk roll his eyes. 

You observed them for a while, watching as Husk slowly grew more comfortable in the small talk he and Angel shared. He would never admit it, but you knew Husk didn’t hate Angel’s company. Husk seemingly said something about you to Angel that made him whip his head up to look at you. You quickly averted your gaze.

Charlie had been standing by her own chair, and a cough from her throat made the chatter die down. You didn’t really listen to the overly sappy speech she had started to give, your mind drifting away in absent thought. You picked your nails into the edge of the table, fidgeting with the light cloth.

Alastor caught your attention by lightly nudging his leg against yours. You trailed your eyes up to his, meeting his red gaze. There was a hint of worry in his eyes, and his grin twitched at the edges as he looked at your exhausted face. He tilted his head in a silent question.

You merely shook your head in response, and mouthed a quick “it’s nothing” and hoped that he wouldn’t press. He didn’t, but you knew he’d ask again in a private room.

Charlie sat down again, and Vaggie rubbed her shoulder, murmuring a silent praise. You dragged your eyes across the table, making note of the handful of new faces. None of them seemed to take Charlie very seriously, but that didn’t come as a surprise. They probably just liked free food.

The food in question seemingly materialized out of nowhere, and you chalked it up to her “princess of hell” type powers that she didn’t use very often. You smiled gratefully and, though you didn’t have much of an appetite, you started slowly picking at the plate in front of you.

The room once again began to rumble with small talk, but at some point the multiple conversations began to melt together until the whole table was talking to each other in one. Charlie was doing most of the heavy lifting with keeping the conversation going.

“-the deal with the Radio Demon and that gal next to him?” You perked your ears when you heard this reference to yourself. One of the new guests, some sort of lizard demon, had a finger pointed at the two of you. He had a slight country drawl in his voice. You saw Alastor’s smile widen when the attention of the table turned towards himself.

“My darling wife,” Alastor stated simply, briefly placing a hand on your shoulder. His eyes were closed as he smiled proudly. You silently nodded with a light, polite smiling. “We knew each other in life. It’s only natural for us to remain together. It would have been a shame for death to do us part.”

“Didn’t think you was the type…” The lizard said slowly, eyeing the two of you carefully. You didn’t blame him; what kind of nut job would marry the Radio Demon? Though, as Alastor said, you were married before Hell, and he wasn’t so… infamous back then. He was actually rather sweet, besides the whole serial killer thing–which, in your defense, you weren’t even aware of till he was shot to death.

“Didn’t think ya were the type to have a kid, either,” Angel piped up absently, one arm thrown lazily over the back of his chair. You watched as Husk tried desperately to shut him up as he continued to speak, but you barely heard the words over the sound of your heart picking up pace, and the increased radio frequency of Alastor’s. His body had stiffened and his eyes had shot open, quickly narrowing as his smile strained and curled dangerously, his gums visible in a snarl. His eyes were not on Angel, but on Husk, whose ears were flattened against his head and a nervous look in his wide eyes.

You weren’t really paying attention though, but you felt the intense tension and rapid prickling on your skin. Your breathing became more labored and you pointed your face to the table to try to hide the building tears in your eyes. You had tried so hard, all day, to push back the memories that kept threatening to resurface. What are the chances that on the same day, the topic was brought up, destroying the wall you had built to contain the anxiety, regret, grief…

You were kneeling by the wrinkled, messy sheets of the twin bed your son had been in for the past couple days. Your heart was tight, and you could barely breathe as you looked at him. He gazed blearily at the ceiling, following the path of the rocking fan. Every breath he took scratched at his throat, as if there were pebbles blocking the path. He barely had the strength to cough. His lips were dry and cracked, and his graying skin still had a flush of fever. You used a damp rag to clean the dried snot under his nose.

You had tried everything. Every recommended antibiotic, every treatment, therapy, exercise; nothing had worked. Nobody knew how to treat the illness. You had even tried to work with witch doctors that Alastor knew. You had spent so much of what little money you had trying to save your little boy.

Alastor was often gone during this time, being the one to go out and find something new to try. You never left the room, even when your husband tried to push you to go outside to stretch your legs or take a shower. He promised to watch over your son. But you just couldn’t, not with David laying on these dirty sheets, looking so frail, weak, and small. You had often called him little dove, and it made you sick to think that your nickname was now like a cruel adjective to describe his current state. A sick, frail baby bird. He had barely eaten in the past eight days, and you didn’t want to admit to yourself that any scratchy breath he took could be that last one.

You stiffened when his head rolled over towards you, and his eyes struggled to focus on you. His cracked lips grimaced for a moment, followed by a sharp, grating cough that made your heart drop and your eyes sting. You reached a shaky hand forward to smooth down his knotted hair.

“Am I going to be okay,” David said weakly. His voice caught on the tightness in his throat multiple times. “I feel really bad.”

“I know baby, but you’re okay,” You said tenderly, continuing to stroke his hair. “Your dad is getting you some new medicine. You’ll be okay.”

You were lying to him, and to yourself. But you couldn’t help but cling on to a morsel of hope–it was all you could do, really. David just looked towards you, his eyes flicking around slightly, unable to truly focus on anything.

“I’m tired.” He said. His breathing was labored.

“I know.”

Your emotions threatened to spill from your eyes as you watched him turn his head back towards the ceiling, eyes shutting. You didn’t want to cry; you couldn’t, not in front of him. You needed to stay strong for him.

You pressed the back of your hand to his burning forehead, and then trailed your hand to his chest, lightly pressing against him to feel his heartbeat. It was slow, and slowing. Your own heart picked up in response. 

You heard the door in another room open, shut, and footsteps quickly pace towards the room. The door cracked lightly, and the tall, thin frame of your husband peeked in. He held a brown back tightly in his fist. With one look into your eyes, he knew something was wrong. Or, well, more wrong than usual. 

You clenched your jaw to prevent any sob from escaping your lips as he sat the bag down on an end table and kneeled next to you, gripping your waist tightly as he looked at David. The boy’s breath had gotten dangerously quiet.

You watched as his eyes opened again.

“I’m tired.” He repeated, weaker this time.

Both you and Alastor leaned towards the bed, his hand on David’s leg as you gingerly lifted the boy’s head into your arms, pulling his light body towards yourself. You shifted yourself up into the bed with him, trying to wrap as much of yourself around your son as possible. You could feel his heartbeat getting slower with every weak breath he took.

“Sleep, then,” your voice trembled. You felt Alastor grip your shoulder, his other hand softly rubbing David’s arm. You couldn’t describe the expression on his face. “I’ll see you in the morning, little dove.” You lied.

“In heaven?” He responded. Your breath hitched at his words. He knew, somehow, that he was dying. How sick it was, for such a young boy to be aware of his impending death. How cruel God was.

“Yeah, I promise,” Was all you could muster. You worried that any more would destroy the dam that held back your tears.

It broke, though, when you felt David’s heart finally stop. You choked on a sob once, twice, before finally you started wailing. Screaming. You held a vice-like grip on the boy, both your arms and legs secured around him. Alastor was still quiet, but he had sat across from you on the bed and pulled you towards him, securing you and David’s still-warm body in an equally tight grip. You could feel his strained breathing and tight jaw against your head. He said something, but you didn’t hear him.

Your mind rushed back to the present when you felt a hand on your back. Your head whipped towards Alastor, who was looking at you. The table was dead silent, and there was still a look of rage in his eyes, but his smile held a softness that was only ever given to you. Your heart still beat strongly, and you struggled to breathe, but you were at least glad that your mind was still back in the present.

Evidently, barely any time had passed. Angel had a nervous look in his expression, which he tried and failed to mask as Husk cursed at him. Charlie was looking at you in worry.

“(Y/N),” She said softly. “...How come you never-”

“Truly, there is no point in speaking of life before death,” Alastor interrupted her, the usual cheer in his voice lilted by a masked emotion. You knew he felt the same grief as you, but he was a million times better at acting naturally. “What a waste of time and emotion.”

Alastor stood quickly, his hand trailing against your shoulders as he walked past you and towards Angel and Husk. Husk’s ears flattened to his skull again as Alastor loomed over them, hands behind his back as a smile twisted his features.

“Husker, my friend,” He said, the cat demon visibly flinching at the mention of his name. “Let’s take a walk.”

Husk didn’t move, and the room grew heavy with tension with every second as the sound of radio frequency got louder and somehow sharper. Alastor bent at the waist, his snarling smile inches away from the panicked expression on Husk’s face. 

“Is the tomcat getting too old to hear?” You barely picked up Alastor’s words, but you definitely heard the threatening tone in his voice.

The cat swallowed hard before standing up. He shot one last infuriated look at Angel, before whipping his head back to attention when Alastor tapped his cane against the ground impatiently. The two of them left the room, and the tension in the air immediately lifted when the door shut.

Charlie startled you when she placed a delicate hand on your upper arm, and she guided you to your feet and out another set of doors. A weak smile touched her expression.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked as you both went up the stairs towards your hotel room. You shook your head silently at her offer. She only nodded back, and said nothing more. She opened the door to your room for you, and waited till you settled down in your bed before saying a string of comforting words that you didn’t really pay attention to. The door clicked softly, and you once again began to sob.

Only a few minutes passed before you felt your skin prickle with a static-like feeling. You had grown to find comfort in the odd sensation, and felt incredibly relieved when you knew Alastor was sitting next to you. You didn’t even hear him enter the room.

He pulled you wordlessly against his chest, lying the two of you down. You twisted yourself in his grip till your ear rested against him, listening to the odd drum of what you assumed was a heart.

“Has David been troubling you all day?” He asked you when your sobs slowed and you caught your breath. You nodded. Alastor rubbed a soothing hand on your shoulder blade. You recognized the tone of grief in his voice as he spoke. “What a pesky boy, even all these years later.”

You wrapped your arms tightly around Alastor’s neck as tears began flowing again.

Though you would never tell him, you often hoped Charlie’s idea of redemption would work. Your husband himself would likely never follow that path; you knew he saw no point and enjoyed the power he held in Hell. But, you wished every day to see your son again. To see your little dove.

You had promised him.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #angst #TW: child death #child death #ohdeerfully

[reiderwriter]

My Love Is Mine All Mine

Week 2 of my Playlist series 🎧💕

Summary: Spencer Reid always liked broken things, but you didn't think you could be fixed. Maybe all you needed was understanding and companionship.

Warnings: slight angst, case details mentioned - misogyny, kidnapping, etc, but no graphic/ explicit details. Hurt/Comfort.

A/N: Tumblr, please let me post haha I've been good, I promise 🙏 This fic is so late because I've been having some technical issues with tumblr and it has greatly annoyed me, so hopefully if you're seeing this it's been fixed? Who knows... Thank you to everyone who has sent in songs so far for the Playlist series, I'll be cresting the playlist today and posting it for everyone to see and use!

Masterlist || Series Playlist

Falling for Spencer Reid wasn't in your plan for the new year, but looking back, it was probably something that was just bound to happen. 

He'd been the first person to show you any kindness after everything you went through, the first person who hadn't put their own rigid horror at your past before their attempts at sympathy. 

You watched the way people recoiled from you as you told them - bluntly, you had to be blunt - what the man in the cabin had done to you. 

He listened to your words, didn't interrupt, didn't quietly shake in anger, and refuse to meet your eyes like your father did, didn't weep for her baby like your mother did. He took your hand as it shook. He held your gaze. 

It was his job to ask questions, but there weren't many left to answer. 

The only reason you were alive was because his team had tracked the string of bodies to your kidnappers home. You were alive because one of his coworkers had put a bullet through his head, ending your nightmare. 

The very idea of love was repulsive to you as you emerged from that basement in the first days of the next year, and you remembered thinking the snow looked fresh and soft. You remembered wanting to lay in it, to wrap it around yourself like a warm blanket and drift into sleep. The cold ground would be as much comfort as you would allow yourself. 

Because after everything, you knew you didn't deserve love. 

You accepted understanding from him, though. 

When the shock wore off, you were awash in all the misery inflicted upon you. You raged, kicked, screamed, broke things, and made people uncomfortable. Nothing would numb the pain of being trapped inside your head, your head still trapped inside that basement, that cage. 

He came to visit you at the hospital. The nurses had given up on you, were content you were physically healing, and that they had technically done their job but not bothered by your deteriorating mental state. Some days, you swore that they pierced your skin in the wrong places purposefully, not even searching for your vein. 

But then he was there, with a book and a chess board, and he'd asked you if you'd ever played before. 

“No. Chess always seemed too…” You swallowed the bile that drowned your lungs and tried again. “Before, it was boring. An old person game, too many rules. Now… He said we shouldn't do things like this. Said we shouldn't cultivate our minds.” 

It was a confession again, but one that took a weight off your shoulders, and not one that pushed it further down. 

“Would you like to learn?” His tone was so soft and awkward, like a teenage boy asking a girl out on a first date, that you almost giggled. 

“I'll be honest and say you'll never beat me, I've played through most board combinations, including a large proportion of the 10^80 theorised checkmate positions, so if you'd rather do something else, that's fine, or I can leave, too, if… you'd… prefer?” 

You had laughed then, a thing that bubbled up from the pit of your stomach and left your shoulders shaking as you gasped for breath doubled over. 

You'd been in hell for six months, and he'd drawn you out of it for a few moments by rambling about chess. 

“Are you a patient person, Doctor Reid?” 

“I think so.”

“Then set up the board and let's play.” 

He beat you every time, obviously, but you enjoyed his small explanations of the moves, and you did improve slightly. 

More than that, you enjoyed his company. It wasn't that you talked extensively In your hospital room, oscillating between your lowest point and somewhere just a rung above that where the snow was falling and the air was fresh, but that he never looked at you the way others did. 

You were discharged and were sad to lose that small glimmer of normality. He'd come twice a week throughout January, and now you were back in your usual shape. You were being discharged, and so that would end. 

You were surprised that he came to pick you up from the hospital the day you left. 

The parents who had looked everywhere for you for half a year hadn't wanted to, and the close friends from before hadn't spared you a thought since reposting your missing poster on their social media pages. 

But the man you played chess with twice a week, the man who'd carried you out of hell himself was there. 

“Ready to go?” You nodded, dumbstruck, and followed as he grabbed your bag. 

You weren't exactly sure where it was you were going, but you followed the man anyway, only a small part of your brain shouting in protest considering the last time you'd been blindly trusting.

He led you back to an apartment with some bare furnishings but a large window and a warm soft blanket covering the bed. It wasn't his, but yours. 

“Your parents are paying for it. They're taking the city to court due to the circumstances. Apparently, there were numerous phone calls to law enforcement that went unnoticed, but the city is looking to settle, so you don't have to worry about rent for a while, maybe ever again. The WiFi is all set up, hot water is working, and so is the heating. The locks are triple enforced, and I'm right down the hall, so if you need-” 

“What?” 

He blinked at you and suddenly, looking sheepish, as if becoming aware that he'd presumed a friendship between the two of you without consulting you first. 

“I live down the hall.” 

You stared at each other for a few moments as you processed his words. He lived down the hall. He'd driven you to your new home, set everything up for you, and he lived down the hall. 

“You're a good man, Spencer Reid.” You whispered, turning away to not let the moment linger anymore than it already had. 

Chess nights became routine. You'd set up the board and play for an hour or two or until you were sick of losing. 

Gradually, though, the nights got longer. He'd arrive just as you were eating a meal, and you'd invite him to join you, or he'd bring along takeaway and you'd eat quietly together, talking about everything and nothing.  

One day, you'd mentioned a film. A popular one, one you'd loved as a child and still rewatched to this day. 

“I've never seen it, is it good?” He'd said. And in your shock, you jumped up and sent half the chessboard flying. 

“Well, it seems that now our game is over, that we have time to give you an education, Doctor Reid.” 

“I have three PhD's-” 

“And still you haven't seen Clueless?” 

You'd pulled him over to the couch he'd picked out for you, loaded up the movie and then invented a new tradition. 

Chess nights and film nights were separate days of the week. So he could always promise to be around for one of them even if he had to miss the other because of work. 

You didn't ask him about his job anymore. He saved people like you, and you didn't need to be thinking about people like you too much.

What they went through, if they survived physically. If they survived in other ways. 

He always visited you first when he returned, though. There would be a knock on your door at some point in the day or night, and he'd let you know he was home safe. 

Another tradition. You'd opened the door to let him in the first time he'd returned from a case after you moved in, and he'd leaned down and wrapped his arms around you. 

You heard the breath of relief, loud and emotional, and hadn't quite realised it had come from you until a few minutes later. Some part of you had thought he wouldn't come back. 

Now, every time he came home, you ran to the door and quietly comforted each other, reminding the other that no matter what happened, you were both there for each other. 

You weren't sure when traditions and movies turned into love or if it had lingered over you the entire time. You didn't think you could love someone right then, your heart broken into small pieces with the torment you'd suffered. 

But it was stitched back together with pieces of him still lodged inside. He was in the very fabric of your being as you became whole again. 

The truth was that you most likely couldn't find love again because there was no room in your heart for anyone else. And you'd never be able to reschedule chess nights to go on dates anyway. 

You weren't sure if Spencer ever figured out how much of hum you carried around with him, how your eyes followed his lips as he ran through decades of memories to give you the fact he thought would please you the most. You weren't sure if he loved you as much as you did him until you were.

You'd agreed to watch one of his movies for a change, agreeing to stop the streak of 80s brat pack classics to watch a black and white war film from Russia with no subtitles. You'd sat together on that couch under blankets you'd bought together months earlier, and he'd pulled you in closer.

“I want to watch the movie and translate at the same time. You should sit here.” He'd pulled you into his lap, letting your back fall against his chest as his lips fell to your ears, and he began to whisper. 

Sitting there so closely, so intimately, was almost torture. Unconsciously, your head tipped back with his words, displaying your neck and shoulders, silently willing his lips to drift even once. His arms wrapped around your waist, and you did your best not to squirm the entire movie, but with your heart beating out of your chest, it was a hopeless cause. 

“Did you enjoy it?” He whispered as the credits rolled, but you hadn't even noticed the movie had ended. It wasn't until the silence that followed his question stretched out notably that you came back to reality. You couldn't answer, in fact. You gaped for a few short moments, hoping something vague but accurate enough would just pop into your mind. 

As you attempted to negotiate yourself out of distraction, you turned your face to his, but he was closer than you thought.

Your noses touched, and your breaths mingled. His arms still wrapped around your waist, and your blankets still anchored you to one another. 

“I wasn't paying attention to the movie, Spencer. I'm sorry.” The words came out of you so fast, yet so quietly that you were surprised yourself how honest you had chosen to be. 

“Why not?” He asked, eyes having drifted sleepily down to gaze at your lips. 

You didn't answer his question but felt your cheeks flush red. You thought about pulling away, moving back, or at least laughing everything off, but you didn't. You stayed there, still like a deer in headlights. 

“Your voice was too distracting,” You forced some of the tension out of your body and let your head fall against his shoulder again, hoping this moment wouldn't end anytime soon. 

“Distracting?” He sounded concerned and shifted in his seat, lifting you up from your happy place in his arms until you were again face to face. “Did I make you uncomfortable?” 

The look on his face was so concerned and focused that you had to pause for a second to catch your breath. He cared about your comfort so much and paid attention to each word that came out of your mouth. He wanted your happiness more than anything in the world. 

“No. I'm never uncomfortable with you, Spencer.” You were back to whispering now, hands floating up to grab his own, fidgeting by his sides. You bought them up to your face and guided his hands to your cheeks, needing to show him just how comfortable you were with him in actions, not just words. Words could be dishonest. Actions were honest. 

His concern melted away as he began stroking your cheek with his thumb, smiling sweetly at you. 

Though you were both content, you'd never been quite this intimate before. So when his thumb swiped over the corner of your lips, your eyes both caught on each other. You could see him weighing up the outcomes in his head, going back and forth between pulling away and pushing in closer.

Slowly and softly, as though he were trying not to startle you, his head moved closer until his lips were on yours. 

It was a quiet kiss. You wouldn't describe it as fireworks, or butterflies, or anything loud and grand and passionate. It was quiet, and it was right. 

He pulled away seconds later, trying to gauge your reaction, but you followed him away and kissed him again. 

When you finally pulled away, it took you a few seconds to realise you'd climbed back into his lap, unconsciously having moved closer to him. You guiltily looked up, waiting to see any discomfort on his features, but to your surprise, he was busy straightening out your hair. 

“I love you, Spencer,” you whispered as he took care of you. He smiled, looking down at you once again, pulling his arms around you to gently lower both of you down to a laying position on your couch. 

“I love you, too,” he said as you held each other and drifted into contented sleep.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid hurt/comfort

[easy-there-leftovers]

I See You, Darling (4)

[Astarion x reader] A little longer than usual, I hope that’s fine for all of you :,DDD I didn't want to cram too much into the post though, so the segment at the end might be continued in full detail, or maybe not! Let's see.|Word count: 2.9k.|

Content Warnings: Mentions of cooking, handling knives, blood, allusions to sex, a few ooc characters, reader being a dumbass and wahtnot.

Part 3 here!!

Masterlist here!!

A party is being held at the camp in the heroes’ honor, which greets you with a lively crowd that you’ll hopefully meet again soon. And with a gathering this large, you’re bound to garner attention. But with a constitution as poor as yours from the night before, a round of drinks is the last thing you want. 

Alternatively: A bloodless human tries to balance respectfully participating in a drinking party, while also not drinking at all. 

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

The sun rises, the warmth of its rays gently waking you in the absence of the campfire’s flames. The soft chirping of the birds greet you a good morning as your eyes slowly open, ready to greet the day as a new opportunity arises.

Is what would have happened in a more idyllic scenario. Instead, you bolt awake with a pounding headache, worse than any hangover could possibly feel like, and quickly rush to get up. By the sheer brightness of the light that burns your newly opened corneas, it is far later than when you usually wake. And breakfast still hasn’t been made. 

“Well, good morning sleepy head.” One of your companions, Gale, says as he fixes his belongings. Readying himself for the skirmish that was about to take hold later on in the day.

“I’m very  sorry for waking up late. It won’t happen again.” You bow your head low for a moment before he waves you off.

“Oh come now, we all have our off days. Besides, I think the rest would agree with me when I say what you made for us last night was more than enough to last us ‘til morning.” His statement is punctuated by the lively sounds of the others training. Ready and well rested for whatever may come.

You look around. None have seemed to mind your temporary absence, so you endeavor to double check with everyone leaving and ensure that they had a sound strategy with the necessary materials and weapons should there be a need for failsafes. You remind them of certain notes that some of them have informed you about but failed to share with the rest of the group. 

‘While goblins typically go down faster than other opponents, they have no sense of honor nor pride which gives way for them the opportunity to use more underhanded tactics. But they also aren’t very bright, so you can convince the others to let them infiltrate the camp and eradicate them from the inside out.’

As the rest disperse, finalize their plans and check their supplies, your favorite character approaches you much like he usually does every morning. Only this time, you see that he looks very pleased. A more vibrant spark in his eyes as he opens his mouth to speak.

“Thank goodness you’ve finally woken up.” He looks at you, in the same way an old friend of yours would when they’re seconds away from telling a joke. 

The look fades soon enough though as he breathes out. You wonder if it’s because the joke isn't funny anymore, or if he never had a punchline to begin with.

“You looked a little ill last night, but you’ve certainly recovered.” Recovered isn’t the word you would use to describe your current state of feeling almost half dead, but you don’t bother correcting the details.

“And you look particularly vibrant today, Astarion.” The itch of your neck intensifies as you return a pointed look at him as he frowns.

“Oh, of course! Now, don’t be so upset. I will admit that I got a little carried away, I apologize.” He pauses. The frown remains on his face for a while before it is erased with his usual expression of confidence. 

“But let’s not fall out over this.” He moves to stand closer to you, taking your hand to his as he nears it to his lips as he continues. 

“We need each other.” 

And whether its done purposefully or not, you see his fangs peek out from his mouth and a shiver courses through your body.

You slip your hand out of his own in a panic and interject. 

“I know that much already, and I trust you not to let what happened last night happen again. I also apologize for not noticing sooner and dealing with the situation better.” You hold your head down a bit to apologize but quickly meet his gaze gain. “But I do need to know what we’ll have to feed you from now on.”

The look of confusion, and perhaps even shock that was once swimming in his eyes dissipates before you can notice them when he swears upon his resolve. “No innocents, you have my word. After all, you know what I am now. I can fight with all my weapons–” He grins, allowing you a clearer view than what you had earlier. “Teeth included.”

“And if I happen to drain the occasional bandit during a fight, what's the harm? They’re just as dead.” He makes a very compelling argument, at least to your standards.

You sigh, satisfied for now. You’re confident that none of your party members would end up at the mercy of his fangs, and you’re more than sure they would be able to overpower him more than your attempts did. But the same sentiment cannot be shared for possibly important, plot driving, characters that you might meet later on.

So you propose something to strengthen your trust that the unlikely will stay the unlikely.

“Look, I’m–” You breathe in, almost as if you're trying to suck back whatever courage washed over you back in as you steeled yourself for what you were about to say next.

“I’m not against you feeding from me, but!” You punctuate the last syllable as you see his grin growing wider. “We need to discuss things beforehand. No prowling over me while waiting for me to wake up or to sink your teeth into.”

The proposal greatly delights him, as is evident in his response. “Of course! That sounds eminently reasonable. I shall wait patiently until you suggest we… dine together. But until then: no more late-night surprises. You have my word on that.” 

After that, he makes a joke about feeling ‘peckish already,’ and quickly gathers the rest of the party to leave on their adventure.

You promise them a feast when they came back as the victors that they are. What you forgot, after what felt like weeks in the real world, was the crowd that would come filtering in to celebrate their heroes’ achievements as well.

————————————

When you saw the tieflings from the grove traveling alongside your companions, you knew they had come to celebrate. And you blanched at the thought of the provisions they’d be seeking to pair with their drinking. It’s been so long since you went through this event, and you no longer recall if they even ate anything during the party.

You look at your bubbling cauldron–– a bigger one as you had anticipated a few acquaintances accompanying them–– but you wager that at least a little extra things to nibble on won’t hurt to have. You still have quite the amount of camp supplies in the trunk, but you keep it reserved for the camp’s use only. So you smile at your returning comrades and alert the others that stayed behind for your reason to leave and that they can begin eating dinner. 

While others told you it wasn’t necessary, the rest just nodded with a smile and yelled that they’d wait for you to return. You return quite too quickly though, all the while informing them why you’re keeping the communal chest in your tent as you spy the child that tried to steal and swindle the group a few days prior approaching with the rest.

They have a laugh and you quickly proceed with your plan to find at least a few consumable berries and nuts or seeds to accompany the drinks later on. 

But foraging for said consumables near dark is a choice not for the faint-hearted. You came to realize this when you heard the low grumble of a large animal, thankfully far from your form. You turn to look behind you, taking great care to do so as slowly as possible so as to not alert the mysterious creature.

In the clearing, you spot a rather dark looking bear and you feel a cold sweat begin to form on your temple. Hands, growing wet in the dangerous situation you’ve placed yourself in. This wasn’t the same as being drained to death by a vampire, that, you could at least reason with. But a wild animal? With your lack of magical prowess and lesser knowledge of connecting with nature and the wild, you would be finished if it were to follow you.

The small pouch of nuts and wild berries stayed holstered on your waist, but the bear’s eyes that were previously low on the ground are now trained on you. Almost as if it were caught doing something it wasn’t supposed to be. 

You freeze. You forgot what the basic policy was around brown or black bears and therefore couldn’t do much about your current predicament. There shouldn’t be a bear around this area, not unless they had traveled from far away, or that this bear was one of your future companions.

And while the latter isn’t impossible, you most certainly did not want to gamble your life on a possibility. So you tried to compose yourself, returned the gaze of the bear with a shaky and careful nod, and turned back to return to camp. Figuring that the amount of tidbits you gathered would have to suffice.

 When you return, the company you shared seems to be in high spirits. Some more than others. But conversation was plentiful and you smiled as the tieflings cheered for your comrades. You quickly got to work and began to chop the nuts into thinner pieces. Something you learned to make the appearance of something look more abundant than it really is.

While you were chopping away unfortunately, you nick your finger along the way and silently curse. Unfortunate, but not an unforeseeable outcome given the booming drums of the bard that plays oh so nicely with your bloodless state. You quickly, but neatly, arrange the provisions on two small platters, and position them near the larger gatherings. 

“Flitting around like a hummingbird as always, I see.” A familiar, but not immediately recognizable voice greets you as you pass them. You turn and you see an unexpected acquaintance with a bottle in their hand and an incredibly charming grin.

“Dammon! How lucky of me to run into you.” You genuinely were elated to see him. You didn’t see much of him later on in the game, and being able to interact with him beyond the opportunities given to you was certainly nice.

“I could say the same. Though you’re as lively as you usually are.” There’s no malice in his tone, only an innocent observation, yet you feel embarrassed to have been seen scuttling about like a bug.

“I– promise I’m more organized. I just didn’t expect us to be having any guests.” He takes notice of how you push your fingers into your palms repetitively, a small action that soothes you.

“I think you’ve done more than a fine job already. The celebration is for you all, and it was us who planned to come and might’ve put your friends on the spot.” He later takes notice of the cut on your finger as well.

“Speaking of,” He gingerly grasps your hand, looking to you for permission, but you’re too confused to respond with anything he can understand. “Shouldn’t you be taking it easy for the night? You’ve done enough. And if what happened at the grove tells me anything about you, I’m sure they’ll survive even if you settle. Just for a bit.” 

He leads you nearer to the water and produces a small washcloth to clean a bit of your finger as you respond. “The grove? They did that on their own. I just um, take notes.” You sit on a fallen tree, your head still fuzzy, as you observe his crouched form. Inspecting the cut as he cleans it. 

A curious interaction. Not one that you’d expect from an non-romanceable NPC, but an interesting one nonetheless. And it would seem that someone had found it equally as interesting, if the way he scrutinizes you had anything to do about it.

He chuckles in turn. “If modesty is how you like to live, then I won’t impose.” He smiles and gets up as you continue your conversation. You don’t recall if the tiefling has ever had this much screen time, but his voice is rather lovely so you don’t complain about it.

You end up discussing quite a bit, but you focus on what can be done about your party. Specifically Karlach as you worry for the future and you’d like to have answers for her when he isn’t around during your journey. He doesn’t have much idea of what else can be done, but he does mention that he should have something by the time you meet him again in Baldur’s Gate.

You do remember that you might meet him a lot sooner, but you don’t mention it explicitly. You do, however, advise him to be extra careful around the oxen as they can be rather unpredictable this time of year.

As you continue, you notice his eyes flit up every now and then. Like something was catching his attention ever so often. You ask him about it and he actually laughs at your genuine inquiry. “It looks like I was wrong. Your friend there looks like he’d like his turn for your company.”

You turn around and you don’t immediately eye anyone looking in your direction. You were never the subtle type, so you looked around, blatantly searching for someone. It was a bit odd to see.

Your eyes do eventually train on his, but he doesn’t necessarily look like he wants to talk to you. Sure, he’s scowling away, though that’s not out of the ordinary at all. Besides, he has a bottle of something that you hope is helping him relax.

Still, perhaps Dammon saw something you didn’t so you politely thank him for his company and excuse yourself.

You greet the others that regard you as you walk past them. Declining the offers to drink and excusing yourself politely when you were asked to stay a bit. 

As you approach him, a tiefling tries to strike up a conversation with him. With a bored look, he dismisses them and turns to look at you. He takes a sip, sneers, and begins his rant now that you’re situated in front of him.

“I hate it. This is awful.” 

“The…wine?” He looks at you as if he should be mad, but a hint of amusement surfaces past the expression anyway. 

“There’s that, but I’m talking about the tieflings. We killed some goblins to save the others. The tally of lives didn’t change much. But what do I get for my hard work? A pat on the head, and vinegar for wine.” He looks down the neck of the bottle, swirling its contents before handing it out for you to take.

You look at the bottle, then him, warily. Modern alcohol is already a wonder to you, and this medieval mead could only do so much worse. Still, you take the bottle, and take a very small sip.

It’s a heavy, rich, red. Dry and sharp. You make a small sound of shock as you keep the liquid in your mouth. Offering him an awkward smile and a nod as you do.

“Ugh, see what I mean? Awful.” 

“All I want is a little fun. Is that so much to ask?” You would think that after an entire day of fighting whatever was out there he’d be tired. Apparently not. 

You sigh, ready to reprimand him and that he should just enjoy the night, but you stop when you feel his unburdened hand reach out to you. Eyes, boring into your own as he propositions you.

You’re here. Face in the grasp of a character you’ve longed to romance with what little time you’ve had away from your scholarly pursuits. Yet meeting him in strange, yet not all too unfamiliar, territory stirs uncertainty within you. Because while he doesn't have a knife at your throat like he did when your character first met him, it certainly does evoke the same sentiment.

‘To, “make me his”, is that right?’ While the idea is tempting, that statement alone can have various interpretations. And you didn’t want to hedge your bets on the one that made your heart race for all the wrong reasons.

Thankfully, he releases his hold on your visage. Only the gods know how much his touch alone can influence you, and you struggle to stand upright.

“I’m– very,-- truly, sorry, but don’t you think you have the wrong person? I mean,” You gesture to yourself with both hands, a cut visible from the labor in the few hours prior to the large festivities going on.. “Uh…in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly in a position to make any um, lucrative offers.” 

 He looks at you, a familiar expression graces his face. He leans his weight on one leg, and you struggle to recognize what his body language is conveying. This is one of those instances you wished you had the dice roll mechanic of the game at your disposal. 

“Why, that hardly matters, darling. What matters is that you’re here.” He takes a sip from his bottle, the very same that he allowed you to partake from moments prior. Only this time, without the sneer at the aftertaste as he continues.

“But then again, what’s a sinner to do when faced with the very embodiment of chastity?” A smile graces his face, but it’s one that is all too perfect. As if he’s rehearsed the same song and dance enough to save him lifetimes.

“Let’s wait until things quieten down. Once the others are asleep we’ll find each other.” 

You have no idea what to expect. Well, you do, but you’re not very sure if this is necessary. You’ll just have to find a way to continue the story without having to go through with this. For now, at least. 

“We’ll see about that, Astarion.” 

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

Thank you to @rey26, @shyminnie07, @lynnloveshobi, @iggee-rose, @automnepoet, @tiannamortis, @aoirohi, @sarkara211, @jane-3043, @h3110-dar1in9, @h3ll0k1ttyl0ver333, @mimziethealien, @squichymochi, @sharabay, @furblrwurblr, @dork-of-the-universe, @thedevilssinner, @fuckalrighty, @queenofthespacesquids, @perseny, @goldenplutus, @h4nluv, @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer, @auszimbo, @maruichio, @iamsexytrash, @craig-mywifeisdead-boone, @grimissleepy, @fandomsfanman, @bitchyzombienacho, @r1kk, @ancuninstar, @izuoyarmin, @gracemisconduct, @kiinokochii, @marina-and-the-memes, and @life-is-hard-m8 for asking to be tagged!!

#astarion ancunin x reader #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #astarion x mc #aware!astarion #baldur's gate 3 x reader #astarion x you #bg3 x reader #bg3 x reader isekai(?) #possibly also a Dammon x reader? #slight!! #Slight Dammon x reader

[sawyerconfort]

the yellowjackets when you wear their shirts would include...

Hi, I promised I would come back and I just disappeared, I'm really sorry! As I mentioned before, my computer has been having huge problems, and I've tried to fix it before, but it looks like I'm going to have to format it after all.

In the meantime, I've got a laptop abandoned at home and I'm trying to write on it. Half the delay was because I was trying to adjust to the new method and the other half because I really had no idea for these requests and giving you shitty stuff would not be fair at all.

Ok, so here we go, probably for a wave of headcannons with other fandoms (AHS fans, I promise I'll answer all of your asks, don't worry!

Enjoy!

Requests will be a little closed for a while just until I get my act together! Sorry for the delay and closing!

If you can also let me know in the replies if you want more prompts and headcannons with the yellowjackets, I would appreciate it! And let me know if you want me to include Travis or\and Coach Ben on it too...

--------------------------

Jackie Taylor

I don't think Jackie would make a fuzz about it. Alright, she would probably be surprised on the first day. But because she's supposedly the most popular girl in school, she's even happy that you're being influenced by her style, after all, that's what popular girls are for, right?

It will also depend a lot on your relationship. If you are friends, for example, Jackie will insist on letting you take some clothes that no longer fit her. And if you're dating, she'll make sure to tease you as much as she can until you express the reaction that pleases her the most.

"You look beautiful, (Y\N), my style really suits you, like I always said."

Shauna Shipman

Shauna wouldn't mind too much about you wearing her clothes either, but unlike Jackie, I think she'd be pretty insecure about commenting on it, kind of afraid that it would make you stop wearing it, and also, of course, due to her internal issues with herself.

But Shauna would find it incredibly adorable, though, and would give you some signs that she liked the offbeat idea, her way. This includes not-so-subtle glances while you're wearing the fabric, or some clothes, which are her favorites as well, laid out on the bed when you come to visit… Little details that let you know that Shauna isn't bothered at all therefore.

I mean, unless it's her flannels, these inseparable fucking flannels… Those no one can take, not even a significant other.

"Uh… You look cute, (Y\N), in my outfit… I like it."

Natalie Scatorccio

I don't think Natalie would mind you wearing her clothes. In fact, I think it would be a good opportunity for her to take advantage of this and tease you as much as she can. She will do anything to make you self-conscious and blush, but not in a bad way. Like, that's just her love language.

And, let's face it, Natalie is needy enough not to let her scent wash off her clothes when you take them off. On nights when she needs to sleep alone, if you're dating, she'll purposefully grab one of her pieces of clothing and smell in the scent to keep you close.

"Hey, sweetie, lookin' pretty, huh? Is this outfit mine by any chance?"

Taissa Turner

I'm a hundred percent sure that Tai would be one of those people who abominate clichés, unless she's doing it herself. So, at first, this idea of sharing clothes with her significant other is something she would find completely silly. The first time, she would just kindly tell you to stop it, in a way that doesn't hurt your feelings (I love a soft-hearted Tai, don't judge me!).

But then, as time goes on, I'm also one hundred percent sure that Tai would buy clothes in her style that exclusively fit you. It's kind of her guilty pleasure, since spoiling you is one of her most practiced love languages. And well, considering the tantrum she threw the first few times, how much you've evolved is impressive.

"Okay honey, which one do you want to wear today?"

Lottie Matthews

Okay, get ready for the biggest love bomb you've ever received in your life. Lottie would be completely adorable about your wearing her clothes, and not only would she not mind at all, she would make a point of convincing you that you are one of the lost paintings by one of the famous artists of past centuries, or something like that.

In fact, it's kind of a headcannon on my part that Lottie doesn't have her own style and that she's always looking for something that makes her belong somewhere (some clothes in her teens she wore because of her mother's influence, just because it would please her, you know? )

So, seeing you wearing the dresses that she finds extremely over the top, or the blouses that have too much detail and too little simplicity, is like one of the greatest achievements of her life, if not the greatest. I don't think Lottie ever liked that flashy style more than when you started stealing it from her.

"Wow, wow, wait a minute! Wow, (Y\N), I think you wearing this made me a hundred times more in love with you! Wear it more, babe. You can wear my clothes as much as you like."

Van Palmer

(Okay, since Liv identifies as they\them, I'm going to change the pronouns for this one, hope you don't mind!)

Van and Natalie would have the same approach when it comes to stealing their clothes. But, I think, as an honest opinion, Van would turn this more into a flirting game than anything else. They are simply obsessed (it reads turned on) when you wear something of theirs.

And of course, this opens the door for some good teasing that will inevitably end in making out. Like, how would you handle it, with Van looking you up and down and smirking with that smile you're completely drawn to every time? It's almost impossible for nothing to happen.

I'm also pretty sure that if you were dating, they wouldn't let you have only your clothes in your closet or in your bags. There would always have to be three or more pieces of them that you could use as much or as little as you wanted.

"Wow! Watch out, everyone! There's an extremely hot living being crossing the room, and look what a coincidence, they're wearing my clothes!"

Misty Quigley

Misty would probably have the best reaction ever. Then she, who was always ridiculed for her attitudes and style, having someone who was able to wear her clothes as if they were completely ordinary. Are you kidding? You'll practically make her day if you do something like that!

Obviously, she would be embarrassed and reluctant to ask you the first time why you were doing it, but Misty Quigley has two sides to the coin, and one of them being the impulsive side, I think that would be the one that would beat her to the courage. And your response of the type "because I love your style" would simply keep her up all night.

By the next morning, her entire circle of potential friends would have known about it…

"OH MY GOD! Are these… are these my clothes? Okay, now you really need to let me do your makeup, (Y\N)!"

Laura Lee

(Same thing as Liv\Van, but I don't really know if Laura Lee would use neutral pronuns... It's all because of Jane Widdop, our baby!)

Laura Lee would be pretty surprised if you showed up wearing their clothes, and honestly, I don't think there would be any malice on their part when you did. More than a possible sign that they could be more than friends to you, this would mean that you could, above all, be friends.

They would find it extremely sweet, actually, the effort and dedication you put into choosing an item of clothing that they loved, but was also comfortable for you. In short, Laura Lee would just adore you even more, if that were even possible!

"Oh! Oh! I can't believe it! You look beautiful wearing this, (Y\N). In God's eyes and mine mostly."

#lgbt #romance #oneshot #fluff #headcannons #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #jackie taylor x reader #shauna shipman x reader #van palmer x reader #taissa turner x reader #natalie scatorccio x reader #lottie matthews x reader #laura lee x reader #misty quigley x reader

[fandomwritingbit]

Sweet Girl pt.5

dbf/William Afton x (fem) virgin/reader

pt.1 - here. pt.2 - here. pt.3 - here. pt.4 - here.

Synop: Bored of the lack of contact you and William decide to bring wanking to the 21st century.

Warnings: Smut, masturbation, obsessive behaviour/thoughts for the both of you, corruption, coercion. Virgin reader.

A/n: MATES, MATES, I FUCKING WROTE SOMMET. This is not a drill, I wrote something after weeks of nada and it's... well, it's mediocre. But it's something! This was not the part 5 I had planned but rather a dirty thought that ran away with me that I hope reads half decently.

Is this fuck proofread lmao, soz for any errors I'll try to fix them later on x

You wake very confused, squinting in the light from your bedroom window that was much too bright for 8 in the morning, so you lift yourself from your sheets to check your phone: 9:30. You’ve overslept. Siting up properly you glace at your side table clock through sleepy eyes, needing to confirm the reality of the time, you set an alarm, what the fuck? You have plans today that are now going to have to be pushed up. 

You’re up like a whirlwind, messaging the friend you’re supposed to be having breakfast with that it’s now going to have to be a lunch, a late lunch ideally. Surprisingly they’re not too put out, they must be running late themselves. Crisis averted, you head downstairs to get yourself some coffee which will hopefully combat the awful feeling of having screwed your whole day up already. To be fair, it’s about time something like this happened to you, life’s been too easy for too long. Well, baring the odd relationship with your father’s friend, of course. 

Not wanting to tackle the coffee machine, which you swear is as old as you, if not older, you go for coffee granules and the kettle. A simple man’s brew, and that’s certainly how you feel today. You hadn’t bothered with dressing or throwing a dressing gown on, it’s a warm enough morning that you can stand in the kitchen in your pyjama shorts and vest without shivering, the only cold you feel is your bare feet on the tile. 

Your kettle clicks and you set about making your cup, ignoring the squeak of the backdoor  opening, you’ll greet whichever parent it is when they greet you, if the interaction can be delayed it’s for the best. You pour your water, but the sudden and crisp sound of a wolf whistle makes you overspill onto the counter. Sliding your phone out the way of the spillage, you turn to see the sniggering face of William and your heart manages to soar and sink at the same time, something only this man is able to do. 

Your annoyed expression melts into a flush, you know exactly why he whistled and you cross your arms over your chest accordingly, hard up to do anything about the shorts position high up your thighs. 

“Sorry,” He says without any conviction, still grinning as the coffee begins to drip off the edge of the worktop. Adding slyly, “You wouldn’t mind making me one, would you?”

You neglect to answer, going for an embarrassed, “What are you doing here?” instead. The man’s been in your kitchen for less than a minute and you already feel like you shouldn’t be here, for your own protection. Last time springs to your mind, involuntarily quickening your heart rate. He’d caught you off guard then too, then used you up and wrung you out, and you loved every second of it. You hate him for that, and the way your pussy seems to know when he’s in the room, it’s not fair. 

“Clearing out the garage with you dad.” He presents his palms in his own defence, the smug look of him shows his pride at begging her legitimately. “He told me you were out.” It’s phrased like a question, again making you feel like a trespasser in your own home.

“I’m supposed to be.” You explain without detail, averting your gaze from his and instantly remembering the mess on the counter, and now the floor. 

“Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Especially in that.” He laughs meanly, making you frown. You look pretty all annoyed at him, the furrow of your brown not doing anything to hide the heat on your face from the invasive way his eyes drink you in. And as if that wasn’t far enough he steps forward, sliding his hand over the silky fabric coating your hip. “Almost as revealing as that pretty little bikini.” Your back hits the surface behind you, he has a knack for cornering you, but you suppose it’s not exactly herding cats if the prey doesn’t want to run away. 

The comment hits home though and you remember exactly how easy it was for him to move that garment aside and- 

You’re pulled from that thought as his hand slides further, over your hip to your arse. “Stop.” You say a little breathless, not liking how he just grins at the word. “...My dad could walk in.”

“That didn’t stop you last time.” His tone is mocking, riddled with amusement at how you can’t seem to refuse him. 

“That was stupid… You make me stupid.” You mutter, pushing his hand away and trying to ignore how affected you feel already. “You need to stop.” You affirm, holding your voice steady to prevent the whine that threatened to accompany it. 

William leans closer to you, a mean joy practically emanating from him when your breath hitches. He speaks lowly, a gleeful edge warming you for him and doing everything possible to add to that stupidity “Are you going to make me?”

You just look up at him, your chest rising quickly less than half an inch from his. “...Yes.” You finally manage, nerves and need in your core making you hesitant. Your eyes are wide in wait for response, and the man holds firm just long enough that you panic. He reaches behind you for something before obeying your word, you realise sharpish that he’s plucked your phone from the countertop. 

Trying to take it back fails when he catches your wrist and flicks you away. You’re whining like a child, unable to help the discomfort flooding your veins at him holding something so personal. “William, give it back. What are you-” Your words die when he simply holds the phone in front of you and you hear the subtle click of your face ID unlocking it. 

You watch angrily as he steps away with the device, internally fighting the urge to try and take it back by force. 

He glances at your outrage, stoking it with, “You must have some dirty secrets on here to protest so much.” Shaking his head, he makes you wait whilst he does whatever he nicked your phone to do. Chuckling as he has to manoeuvre the screen from your sight when you try to at least see what he’s doing. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m giving you my number… You don’t want to entertain me now, then you can later.” 

You find yourself nodding when he hands you the phone back. 

~

Your day is spent, lunch and coffee with your mate over and done with, dinner with your parents finished. So you slip away to bed with your phone clutched to your chest, which is tight with forbidden excitement. Halfway through the day your checking of messages was fruitful, with one from William telling you that you’re going to ‘entertain him’ at 11pm tonight, and despite your naivety you know exactly what that means. 

The only way to combat your nerves is preparation so you pick out a matching bra and knickers set, light pink and lacy, you know he’s going to like them, perhaps too much if anything. Then a white nightdress, just see-through enough to give a hint as to the underwear underneath. 

Then it’s propping your phone up with a pillow and sitting cross-legged on your bed, checking to see it the view will be good, and it certainly will. From there, all you do is wait, your foot absentmindedly tapping away with the excess excitement, you’re aroused at the thought of it. A dirty video call with a bloke older than your dad, it’s everything you’re not supposed to do, a bad idea all around, but that just makes your panties that bit wetter. 

He’s a little late, but the very moment he calls you answer, not even waiting for a ring. It makes him smirk, such a sweet thing, ready for him, no doubt waiting for him. Fuck, if he was twenty years younger he’d scale the window and see it in person. 

You know you’ve given your want away by his sly expression, and he teases you by saying, “Eager, huh?” 

You pout, now hating all the effort you went to and trying to explain it away. “Well, I was expecting-I knew you were going to-” 

Somehow, even through your tiny phone screen he has enough presence to be able to cut you off. “It’s a good thing.” He pauses before adding with a snicker, “I doubt you’re as eager as me.” He shifts as he says that and your heart skips a beat at the thought of him touching himself already. It’s a power only he has ever given you, to know just how mental you make him and that power makes your core tighten. 

“Now, sweet thing.” There’s a nonchalance to his words that contradict the fact he’s palming himself over his boxers, he can’t help it, he can see the strap of your bra peeking out and the curve of your hips suggested by your nightie. It doesn’t pass him by that he’s fucking pathetic. “Have you got headphones, or do I have to keep my voice down?” 

You hadn’t thought of that, but you’re glad he did when you think how often you hear your parents tv through the wall. So you reach to your bedside drawer to retrieve your headphones, well aware that he’s watching you and trying to catch sight of whatever he can. And after a moment you plug them in and pop them in your ears, flushing when you realise that the sound feels a lot more intimate now. Maybe he knew that. 

“God you drive me crazy with all the tiny fucking clothes you wear.” He’s laughing but you know he’s not joking. You’re not in a position to laugh, how exactly can you tell him that he drives you crazy with everything he fucking does. From the tensing of his jaw to the delirious sensation of his voice on your skin. All of it has your body begging for anything he’s willing to give you, regardless of what your mind thinks. 

You can’t prevent a small smile on your lips though, “I don’t do it on purpose.” Even as you say it you know it’s a lie, you didn’t do it on purpose at first, now though, you want him to see you. 

“Don’t fucking lie to me, sweetheart.” He knows you better than that. You giggle, it should be illegal for him to read your mind that easily. “I’d wager under that nightie you’re wearing something nice for me. Like a gift to be unwrapped.” The look on your face says it all, when you bite your lip like that he wants to bite it for you. “Am I right?” 

You can hardly look at your screen, but you nod, barely able to sit still. 

“Fuck, let me see.” Something about how he’s speaking now is very telling and you revel in the feeling for a moment before shifting to sit on your feet. 

“Okay.” You sound so small and quiet you can hardly hear it over that arousal in your blood. Your fingers hook under the bottom of your nightdress, hesitant to begin the process and your eyes flick to the screen. 

You catch his gaze and he smirks, “Come on, you know I’d do it for you if I could.” That you are certain of, sometimes there’s such hunger in his eyes you think he’s a breath away from ripping the fabric off you. 

You do as asked, your panties straps revealed high on your hips guiding the sight up your stomach,then to the thin lace hardly covering your breasts. You were right, he does like it. Much too much. 

“God, you are like a fucking present.” You grin at that, watching the hint of movement you can see towards the bottom of the screen, and you core pangs with the knowledge of what he’s doing. Now sitting on your feet, you press your heel between your legs and jump at the jolt of stimulation it brings. 

Your lip is between your teeth again as you debate whether you’re brave enough to ask for what you want. “...Show me.” You manage in a surge of voice, you wish you didn’t sound as shy as you do. 

You hear William’s scoff of disbelief, he hadn’t expected you to ask that but he supposes it’s only fair. “Yeah?” 

You nod, watching eagerly as he moves a hand to change the angle of your view. The sight stirs you immensely, his boxers pulled down enough to let his cock free, he held it, touching himself at a slow pace. You rake the image for what you can see, his shirt pulled up to let you see the trail of dark hair that leads down to his length. A crazy part of you burns to press your nose against his trail, curiosity, or something dirtier you don’t know, but you know he’d let you if you asked. 

It’s with near fascination you watch his stroke himself, not noticing how you’ve begun grinding your pussy against your heel, your knickers are clinging to your slick but all shame is lost. 

“I didn’t expect you to want to see.” He sniggers, you recognise the thickness of his voice, remembering the pride in your core when you took him in your mouth, the heavy breathing of someone clinging on to their self restraint by the tips of their fingers. There’s precum on his tip smeared by each rise of his fist, it’s a dirty feeling and if you were in his reach he’d have it resting pretty on your tongue. 

Soon your movement isn’t enough anymore, your heat whines for better friction, the attention on your clit that he does just right. It’s written in your posture and the pinch of frustration between your brows. 

William’s voice affirms your need. “You can touch yourself, lovely. Don’t have to wait to be told.” 

“I know.” You reply quickly, embarrassed at how easy he’d jumped to that conclusion. If you were harder to read maybe he wouldn't have such a hold on you. 

“Or do you want me to ask?” There it is again, that mocking that shouldn’t speak directly to your slick, it’s condescending but you know in your heart that he knows better. You open your mouth to protest the teasing but you have no chance to. “Come on, show me how you play late at night, how you give yourself what you need.” He wants to seem like he’s humouring you but right now, with his cock in his hand, he’d beg to see just how you touch your perfect cunt.   

You’re doing it, shifting your position so you’re sitting properly, legs raised to let you trace over your bundle of nerves. The fabric of your panties quickly proves irritating, so you hurry to take them off, glancing repeatedly at the view on screen, dying to match the rhythm of him stroking himself, not wanting to miss anything. At the sight of your pussy bare for him, knickers discarded, he hisses through his teeth; now that is the kind of thing that gets a bloke in serious trouble.

“And the rest.” He adds, and you’re so lost in your new-found touch it takes you a moment to realise what he’s referring to, when you do you push the bra straps from your shoulders, shimmying the garment down so that your chest is free. Your nipples are hard from your excitement, all parts of you aware of the growing need in your core, begging for the release your touch promises. It should be familiar but with William’s eyes on you it takes you time to remember what you like. 

You rub your clit, the cues from your body calling for you to press your fingers inside your hole. You’re unable to reach like he does, but it’s enough to bring your end into sight and a soft moan from your lips. 

He’s chuckling watching how weak you become, like he’s not moving faster with the taste of release on his tongue. It takes a lot for him to ask the question burning in his head, he already knows the answer but hearing it from you is going to be delicious. “Tell me, what you think about, when you play with yourself, sweet thing.” The words are stilted with his involuntarily quickening pace, he’s close and it’s fucking stupid how much he needs to cum. 

“You.” You say instantly, voice cracking. Your head between my legs, fingers hooking inside, teeth on my neck as you line your cock up between my legs. You haven’t the coherent thought process to say that, it’s flicking images of past imaginings, you shouldn’t want to give yourself to this man as much as you do. 

William grunts, speaking through gritted teeth to try and remain somewhat controlled, though there’s nothing controlled about his frantic movement, nor yours. “You’re so fucking lucky I’m not in there with you.” 

It’s not a threat, you’ve seen the size of him, you’ve been delirious from just his fingers, but you want it. You want him in there with you. You want it all. 

He loses it at your wide eyed look, fucking his fist ‘til his cum is dripping down his abdomen.  You're not far yourself from the view alone, but you can hear his breathing, the groan right as he touches the peak. And your walls clamp around your fingers in stuttering waves of climax, you shiver with it, your legs unwillingly pressing together. You have to bite the inside of your cheeks to keep any noise leaving you, a startled thought of discovery hitting you out of nowhere. 

“Fucking hell.” His voice makes you regain your senses, he’s chuckling and the hand not coated in release slips out of shot to rub the bridge of his nose; why is it so much better when a pretty thing like you is watching? 

“William?” You’re shaky as you speak, weighing up what you want to ask, deciding that closed mouths don’t get fed. In response he tilts the camera up so you can see he’s listening, and you can’t help but hit screenshot at the sight of him so dishevelled. “Next time… I want you to be here with me.” 

He laughs, “Anything you want, princess. I mean it.”

#fnaf #william afton #william afton x reader #william afton smut #fnaf smut #william afton x you #fnaf william afton #fnaf movie #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan x you

[meadow-hearthfire]

[Insert dialogue of a ten-year-old ranting to his previously-unknown Pop dad about the mistreatment he and his sister endured in the Techno foster system just for being half-Pop.]

--We didn’t ask for any of that! We never asked to be made!! Where was all that love and care these past ten years? Where was that these past FIVE YEARS?!!

I have no excuse… I’m sorry I wasn’t there.

No kid should ever have to go through such hardship, especially not at such a young age as you were…

Despite how angry and upset they are, they’re still kids and they’re hurting and they need a hug. Also, you gotta let them get it outta their system.

---

I love @zivazivc's OCs Eddy M and Ravin! (Oh, and their Techno dad is confirmed to have been in his twenties when he had them.)

Some songs I listened to while working on those pics:

This takes place in a universe in which Floyd mans up and takes those kids in after being reminded of their existence and informed of their situation. There are some other things that sets this AU apart from Ziva’s but I’m not gonna spoil any more than I probably already am. Plus, the AU is still a work-in-progress.

The kids are sent straight to Pop Village after the events of Trolls World Tour, and all of BroZone is informed of the kids’ existence after ancestry test results come out.

Why’s Eddy M pissed at Floyd, you may wonder? It’s because Eddy M knows Floyd knew of his and Ravin’s existence from the start and didn’t bother being part of their lives until Floyd was reminded of their existence and informed about their situation. Ravin knows that too, but she’s more upset that she’s reliving the trauma she and her brother underwent.

In the Mirverse, Eddy M and Ravin’s Techno dad died when they were five, and their Techno grandparents, whom they thought loved them, shunted them off to the Techno foster system where they were mistreated for being half-Pop.

The kids are supposed to be ten years old in this. If Floyd is thirteen when BroZone split, in his mid-twenties when he had those two eggs with that Techno troll, then he should be in his mid-thirties in this (at least in the Mirverse and according to my headcanons). If you notice the kids’ heights are possibly inconsistent for a ten-year-old, please ignore this error because I was too late to fix it. Maybe their time in the shitty-ass Techno foster system stunted their growth?

Wondering about Eddy M’s bandages? Well, all I’m gonna say is that Eddy M ran into trouble and got hurt. And nope, it wasn’t during his and Ravin’s time in the Techno foster system.

As for the clothes the kids are wearing? They were gifted those clothes when they were in the much nicer Pop Village foster home/orphanage.

Notice Floyd’s tattoo? The flowers are forget-me-nots, which I picked for a symbolic meaning that's literally in the name. I’m gonna let you try to figure out the rest (; btw the tattoo design isn't finalized, so it's subject to change.

Oh, and I hope you don’t mind the alterations and errors in Eddy M and Ravin’s designs. I was almost done with the pic so it was too late to fix those errors (the bangs and eyebrows), I’ll try to rectify that and see if I can make those details work next time I draw those two. As for the alterations, I wanted to simplify Ravin’s skin for ease of drawing and I struggled to make Eddy M’s Techno troll teeth work.

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls 2 #trolls world tour #trolls 3 #trolls band together #floyd dory #trolls floyd #trolls oc #trolls fc #eddy m #ravin #trolls mirverse #meadow draws #fan art #trolls branch #forget me not #dad floyd #dad floyd dory #hurt/comfort #pop troll #techno troll #branch dory

[azaleaniath]

hii!

requesting an aonung x reader 🤭 i’m sorry if it’s too detailed i just want to make sure what i’m saying isn’t confusing! could it be like major fluff and really sweet? i know aonung is the most loving behind the armor he wears

so we all know aonung’s an asshole. for some reason i imagine he’s actually a biggg softie but he sees showing his affection as embarrassing because he himself is self conscious, thinks you deserve better and has his walls up.

he’s pretty much always mean to you in hopes that you’ll give up your efforts to be with him and find a mate who actually deserves you.

reader is bothering ao’nung one morning, asking him to hang out with her, basically a date. he denies the first attempt so she changes the activity they would be doing and keeps offering more things to do hoping he’ll say yes to at least one of them. she’s visibly excited and hopeful that he will agree.

aonung was previously already frustrated for other reasons and he ended up taking it out on you, yelling and speaking to you hurtfully but he doesn’t actually mean it. (unknown to you). you stand there shocked and for a second his eyes soften as he realized he was reallyyy harsh with this one and may have taken it too far. before he can even say anything her lip trembles and her eyes instantly well with tears, she truly looks heartbroken and takes a step back from him.

at this point in time he realizes he’s really fucked up with this one and it’s almost like a switch flips, he’s able to bring his walls down and sincerely apologize and actually express his love for you/tells you how beautiful you are. he curses himself for hurting you to this point, mans is basically on his knees begging for forgiveness because his intention was never to make you cry(if you actually make him beg on his knees i would have zero complaints 😋). it’s a side you’ve never seen before and you didn’t even think he had it in him!

I hope this makes sense i’m sorry if it doesn’t 😭 i have the idea but i love your writing and know you can bring it to life!!

Thank you for your request! It wasn't too much detail at all, I liked the clear idea you had!

Hope you enjoy what I turned it into 😊

~ AO'NUNG X FEM! METKAYINA! READER ~

Date?

summary: The two of you have known each other forever. As you talk him into a date, he tries to get some space in between you two, but ends up hurting you with his words. Words he never meant.

includes: crying, angst, fluff, yelling, arguments, confessions

SFW

1.4k words

________________________

With hopping steps you pathed over to Ao'nungs marui. In one hand you held a few shells and small beads, which you tried not to crush. A happy smile enhanced the positive aura you created around yourself.

"Ao', are you there?" you asked before entering the marui. 'Shit', he thought as he heard your voice, 'the last thing I need now.'

He didn't answer. Instead, he just sighed, mentally preparing himself for the ray of sunlight you were.

"Ao'?"

One of your hands pushed the curtains away and and you entered, still wearing your happy smile.

"I'm busy."

From the sound of his voice you could tell that he was not in a good mood, you could probably even tell why.

He sat in his rather dark home, fixing his fishing net without even looking up to greet you.

You came closer to him, resting a hand on his shoulder.

Ao'nung still just sat there in silence, as if you weren't even there.

"Why did your father and you fight this time, hm?" By now your voice was a bit more calm, not as excited as before.

He still didn't physically react but only continued patching up the holes in his net.

"You know me too well..."

"Of course I do, you're the most important person in my life."

Your answer reminded him of why he didn't look up to you;

It hurt.

You were the sweetest soul he had ever met. You deserved the entire planet and every star in the sky. All he desired was for you to always keep that beautiful smile. But mostly, he wanted you to find a worthy mate.

In his eyes, he was anything but that. He would be olo'eyktan one day, that was true, but he had always been certain that he was not enough and he would never be.

Every time he treated someone in a bad way or laughed at someone, every time he misbehaved and refused to obey his parents he had a hard time sleeping the following night, knowing that the right mate for you would never do that.

He was not the right one.

And yet you had waited for him all your life.

"The usual. It's always the same..." he mumbled, tying the loose ends of his net with a bit more force now before tossing it into a corner and covering his face with both hands.

"I'm sorry to hear that." The hand you had on his shoulder gently caressed his skin a few times before he pulled away from your touch.

"Maybe this will cheer you up. Look, I found these, I thought we could sit down together and make bracelets for each other?"

You opened your other hand and showed him the shells, but he didn't even look.

"i said I'm busy. I don't have time for such childish things."

His words felt like a needle stinging your chest, but you tried to stayed as positive as possible.

"Oh, uh, okay... Well, we haven't been out swimming lately, would you like to accompany me? We could swim to the old cave, we haven't been there for a long time."

His hands sank down from his face and he supported his elbows on his knees.

"I'm sure Tsireya and Roxto would like to go with you."

'This is our spot...' you thought, feeling his bad mood draining your positive energy slowly but surely.

"That's not the same, Ao', I want to go with you!"

Instead of answering, he only took a deep breath.

You crouched down in front of him, resting both of yout hands on his thighs.

"What about tonight, would you like to eat with me? I'll prepare your favourite food and afterwards we can go look at the stars and-"

"Why can't you just accept a no?! I don't have time for you, and mostly I don't want to spend my time with you! Stop clinging to me like I'm your mate cause I'll never be!"

Your heart shattered at his words. It felt like it sprung into thousands of pieces.

It was nothing new that he avoided you, he had been doing that lately, but what he just said ripped your insides apart.

Ao'nung watched you standing there, frozen in place. It took a good while until your body reacted. Tears pricked in the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision before they rolled down your cheeks.

As you sniffled and started to sob you blinked a few times, averted your watery eyes from him and faced the ground.

Everything you hab ever wanted vanished before your eyes. In pain, you balled your fists, crushing the shells you had collected in your hand. They crumbled onto the ground like your dreams of a life with Ao'nung as your mate. He had made it clear, he didn't want to be with you.

Ao'nung felt his own heart break at your reaction. Instant regret overwhelmed him as he watched you dying inside.

"Fuck, I-" he hated himself for making you so miserable.

"I didn't mean to-"  He got up at reach out to you with softened eyes. If only he could turn back time.

You flinched at his touch and immediately withdrew, taking a step back. Again he tried to reach out to you but you only shook your head in disbelief. There was no way he just said that you.

All your life you had turned down the strongest and bravest warriors, the smartest and most good-looking clan members, no matter how hard they would try to make them yours. You loved Ao'nung and that had been for as long as you could think.

The chief's son looked up to you with such soft eyes, he looked so vulnerable and easy to crush and you did.

"I've been waiting all my life just for you. No matter how much you messed up I stayed by your side... But I guess I'm not good enough for the future clan leader."

Your voice was merely a whisper but these words burned themselves into his heart. Ao'nungs own eyes started to water and he held your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours to keep you from running away.

Your empty expression didn't even change as he did the unthinkable and knelt down in front of you, holding your hand and pressing it to his cheek  as if his life depended on it.

"No, you're wrong! I am the one who isn't good enough! You deserve more than me. You deserve everything this planet has to offer. You're the most beautiful and wonderful soul on Pandora, you're the most sacred thing to me, not even Eywa can compare to that."

You looked down at him, still completely disappointed and hurt by how he had adressed your date ideas earlier.

His lips trembled in panic. He couldn't lose you, that was not an option.

Ao'nung looked pathetically miserable all huddled up at your feet while clinging onto your hand for his life.

"L-let's go collect some shells, make some pretty bracelets for each other and go to our spot, yes? Just you and me, and then, let's get something to eat and watch the stars after the eclipse. Just the two of us, okay? Please, (Y/N)... let us spend the entire day together, we can to whatever you want."

You sobbed at his words, slowly agreeing with a soft nod. Until you did, Ao'nung held his breath in angst, hoping you would accept.

As you did, he got up and his hands fell around your neck instantly.

"Say, Ao'nung..?"

He pressed you against himself, holding your head against the crook of his neck as carefully as he could.

"What is it?" he asked, by now sobbing himself lightly.

"Do you really mean that? Do you think you're not good enough?"

You could feel his shaky breath around your ear as he spoke again.

"You're perfect. You deserve a perfect mate."

"I've made my choice a long time ago." Both your arms sneaked around his waist as you pressed yourself against him, inhaling his scent deeply.

"Are you sure about-"

"Ao'. I don't want anyone else."

He sighed at your words, wondering what you could possibly like about him so much.

"I just want you to live a happy, perfect life. You mean so much to me, I couldn't stand to see you unhappy."

At his words, a smile slowly made its way back to your face. Withdrawing a bit from the hug, you faced him, looking right into his puffy red eyes.

"Then stay with me, forever. That's all I need to be happy."

______________________

taglist: @luvlykrispy

@zatarias-pandora

@vviolaswrld

@yeosxxx

@lilgurlbeoncrack

@philiasoul

@ch0nky-child

#avatar x reader #avatar way of water #avatar 2022 #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #avatar fanfiction #avatar fic #avatar headcanons #avatar imagine #avatar imagines #avatar x you #aonung headcanons #aonung x you #aonung imagine #aonung x reader #aonung #avatar twow #avatar fluff

[wongyuseokie]

Gotcha! | y.j.h

Summary: Jeonghan loves pranks, creating chaos and mischief, and you love it too, but one day he goes too far, and he’s unsure how to fix it because how do you fix a broken heart? 

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ☁︎ angst |  ♥ completed works Word Count: 3249 words

Pairings: Jeonghan x Female Reader Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: Fluff and angst, sort of idol AU, not in detail, but it does mention that Cheol is a leader and Jeonghan has members. Content Warnings: Angst and fluff, a bit of fighting, Jeonghan cries, Y/N cries. Jeonghan sprains his foot and drowns his foot. Mention of food (Y/N stress bakes)

Authors Note: Thank you, my soulmate @here4btsfics, for beta'ing this and helping me figure out the ending too!! 💕 Thank you so much to @onlyseokmins for listening to me babble, reading over a bit of the fic, and helping me with the flow! Finally, thank you to @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this over too!! ✨

Crossposted to AO3 © wongyuseokie 2023. All rights reserved.

Jeonghan grinned. His newest prank was all set. He’d been priming you for it, and tonight he was pulling out the big guns. This would be the most epic thing if he pulled it off. 

Jeonghan tucked his phone away when he heard the front door open and resumed ‘sulking’ on the couch by the window. He heard you kick off your shoes, put down your bag and put your keys in the bowl on top of the shoe rack. 

“Hi, I’m home,” you greeted, sitting next to Jeonghan on the couch. 

Jeonghan grunted in response, and you took a breath and placed a hand on his knee, but he didn’t bother to look at you. 

“Babe. I even got your favourite cake from the bakery!” You said excitedly, trying to get his attention. 

Crap, Jeonghan thought. His favourite cake was from a bakery on the other side of town, which meant you went there in the cold. Granted, you had a car, but it was still an inconvenience, and you went out of your way to get it. 

“Shall I grab a couple of forks, and we can dig in?” You suggested, and Jeonghan shook his head. 

“Oh! I know we haven’t had much ‘us’ time, and you said you wanted to spend more time together so that we can do just that. I took the next two days off work and looked up the weather if you wanted to drive out and enjoy the winter!”

You didn’t know what caused the shift in your relationship, but Jeonghan was distant, unavailable and curt for the past week. There were times when Jeonghan would suddenly pull away before planning and pulling off some grandiose prank, but this time, it felt different. Usually, he’d keep up a facade for a day or two, but this time it was a week. He’d even pull away from your touch at times. 

You weren't sure if it was work or other personal stress, but he seemed fine when he was alone and when he came back from work, he was fine. The only time the grin would be wiped off his face would be when you were around. 

You were the common denominator. You were why Jeonghan was distant. 

“Hannie, what’s wrong?” You asked, and with how weak and broken your voice sounded, Jeonghan wanted to stop and abandon his plan, but he just had a couple of lines to say, and then he knew you two would one day laugh over it. 

“Y/N, we should talk.” 

You felt like your heart stopped, and your blood ran cold. That sentence was never good, and you felt like a fool. All the signs were right there, yet you ignored them, and now everything was unravelling. 

“Mhm,” was all you could muster, not trusting your voice. 

“I think. There’s no easy way to do this, but we need to break up.” 

You didn’t know words could inflict so much pain until Jeonghan said those words. It felt like he ripped you apart. 

“Is there anything I can do to fix it?” You mumbled, your voice breaking, and Jeonghan felt even worse, but he was determined to see this prank through. 

“I just don’t love you the way I once did,” Jeonghan lied, and you took a sharp breath and let out a broken chuckle. 

“Well, I guess there’s no fixing that,” you mumbled, getting up and trying to keep your emotions in check as you paced to your bedroom. 

It all made sense, the distancing, the curt responses, the annoyed glances. You were trying so hard to love a man who was done. How could you be so blind? Simple. You loved him, it made you blind, and he didn’t. 

Jeonghan was in the living room for over 30 minutes when he decided to finally go into the bedroom and reveal his grand plan and laugh, telling you all about his dumb prank. He had a massive grin on his face that was wiped off the minute he opened the bedroom door and saw a suitcase on the bed. 

“Baby?” Jeonghan called out, seeing you emerge from the bathroom with your belongings. 

“What are you doing?” Jeonghan asked, panicked. 

You stared at him, confused, your eyes red and sore from crying. 

“I’m moving out. You broke up with me. I don’t want to be here if you don’t love me,” you mumbled, and Jeonghan swore he could hear his heart shatter.

“No, no. Oh my god. No, you misunderstood,” Jeonghan rambled as he moved to hold your wrists gently. 

“What?” 

“Baby. Uh. This was a prank. I just wanted to do something a little more intense,” Jeonghan answered lamely, making your eyes widen. 

“Yoon Jeonghan.” 

Jeonghan froze. You never called him his full name, even if you were upset. 

“Baby, it was meant to be funny, I was going to come in here and joke and laugh, and we’d be fine,” Jeonghan rambled. 

“You sure as hell committed to it, a week of near silence from you. You committed so much to it that I didn’t even question it,” you fumed, your voice low and calm, and honestly, it scared Jeonghan. 

“Baby. I had to commit, you know,” Jeonghan said nervously, trying to joke, and you glared at him. 

“Are you trying to be funny?” You asked. 

“Baby, it was a joke,” Jeonghan repeated, and you pulled away from him and threw your remaining things into the suitcase. 

“The fact that you could even think I’d find this funny. I know you’re playful and mischievous, but this? This was low and cruel, and fuck, I don’t care if you were joking, you broke my heart Jeonghan, and I don’t know if I can be with someone who finds that funny!” You cried out. 

“Baby. No, please. What does that mean?” Jeonghan asked, and you sighed. 

“You found it so easy, but even if all you wanted to do was prank me, you still broke my heart. I need space. I need time apart from you because I don’t know if I can be with someone who finds my love for them something to toy with,” you explained, and you saw Jeonghan’s eyes water and his lips quiver. 

“Don’t fight me on this. I need space from you, Jeonghan, because right now, prank or not, you’re still the guy who broke my heart,” you said as you went back into the bathroom to collect more of your belongings. 

Jeonghan nodded and slowly left the bedroom, glancing at your suitcase. How did a prank misfire this badly, and that too, on him? How did a breakup prank become a reality? 

“You did what?” Jeonghan cringed, pulling the phone away from his ear when Seungkwan yelled at him. 

He could hear the ruckus and scuffling of the other members. He could hear Mingyu complaining about how you always baked sweet treats. 

“Hyung, that’s messed up,” a deeper voice commented. 

“Wonwoo. I know. I just don’t know what to do,” Jeonghan answered lamely. 

“We’re coming over, Shua and I. I’ll text her to find out if she’s safe,” Seungcheol stated, the voice of reason in such moments. 

“She is. She’s at her friends' place. She texted me,” Jeonghan added, grateful that you even updated him. You had no obligation to do so, he broke your heart, but you’d always been the more gracious one in the relationship. 

“We’ll be over in a bit,” Seungcheol said before hanging up. 

Jeonghan sat on the couch looking despondently. You were indeed too good for him. That’s all he could think. Even though he broke your heart, you still told him that you were safe, and you even told him to sleep well, but how could he? How could he sleep well when he didn’t have you to hold in his arms?

“It’s open,” Jeonghan mumbled from the couch when he heard the knocking on the door. 

In the last half hour, Jeonghan had torn himself apart. Dissecting everything he ever did in his two years of being your boyfriend, he was an utter mess and hated the fact that he felt upset and like he wanted a hug. He was in this predicament because of something he chose to do. He had no one to blame but himself.

“So, a breakup prank?” Seungcheol asked the second he entered the apartment, and Joshua simply stared at Jeonghan, disappointed. 

Seungcheol and Joshua sat across from Jeonghan and stared at him until Jeonghan sighed and explained his so-called elaborate plan. 

“So, at no point did you think this would be a bad idea?” Joshua asked. 

“Of course I did. Especially when I told her that we should talk,” Jeonghan admitted feeling extremely foolish. 

“So why go on with it? If you knew it was going to hurt her?” Joshua probed, and Jeonghan fell silent. No reason or excuse would ever justify what he did.

“I get that you take pranks and causing chaos seriously, but sometimes it goes too far,” Seungcheol started to say, and Jeonghan nodded shamefully. 

“She deserves so much more,” Jeonghan mumbled, making both men roll their eyes. 

“Nope, we’re not enabling your pity party. You did something stupid, but you love each other and have been an amazing boyfriend. You just did something incredibly dumb,” Joshua reasoned. 

“I miss her,” Jeonghan confessed, and both men shrugged. The urge to hug and coddle Jeonghan was something they were both fighting because they needed to kick some sense into him. 

“Okay. We get that, but you need to fix this because right now, you committed so much to the prank that maybe she thinks a small part of you did want to end things,” Seungcheol suggested. 

“Also, she could feel insecure because if you can joke about breaking up so easily, she might wonder how much she means to you, especially if you can make light of something so serious,” Joshua added. 

“Should I go see her?” Jeonghan asked, and both men shook their heads. 

“No. She wants space. You can stick to wishing her a good morning and night but nothing else. No apologies, it won’t mean anything.”

“What about ‘I love you’?” Jeonghan asked and got an eye roll from both men in response. 

“She knows you love her. I'm sure she loves you too, but for now? No. Show her you love her instead of concocting dumb pranks to make her lose faith,” Joshua elaborated, and Jeonghan nodded. 

“We’ll try and stop by or call her to understand how she is, and we’ll give you an update if we can, okay?” Seungcheol added, noticing Jeonghan’s despondent state. 

“You’ll get your girl back. Just let her have some space for now,” Seungcheol added confidently. He was sure you two would be fine, just needed some time. 

“Y/N, you have some visitors,” your friend Hana told you. It had been nearly 24 hours since you left Jeonghan, and you had just been moping at her house the entire time. 

“Who is it?” You mumbled, pulling Jeonghan’s hoodie that you took with you closer to your body. 

“Seungcheol and Joshua.” 

“I’ll be out in a second,” you said. 

“Hey,” you mumbled, making both men turn to smile at you. They both had soft and caring smiles on their faces. 

“How are you?” Seungcheol asked as you sat down across them on the couch. 

“I miss him,” you admitted. 

“Well, he does, too,” Joshua added. 

“How is he?” You asked. 

“Miserable. Feels terrible,” Seungcheol answered. 

“Maybe I was too hasty,” you mused. 

“No, you weren’t. What he did was shitty, and he got an earful from us, and frankly, he deserved it. It was a dumb prank,” Seungcheol elaborated, and you frowned. 

“I just don’t know why he found it funny?” You thought out loud. 

“We don’t either, but we do know how he is. Just never means to harm. He legitimately thought it'd be funny, I guess?” Joshua offered. 

“I know, I’m fine with his pranks, but he was so damn committed that I thought he was actually done with me,” you stated. 

“Yeah, he overcommitted and overdid it,” Seungcheol agreed. 

There was a moment of silence between you three until you broke it. 

“I’m not breaking up with him. I just needed some space.”

“That’s a decision that is only up to you. If there’s anything else we can do, let us know,” Seungcheol comforted. 

“Actually, yes, can you take these? I made two batches, so there’s plenty, and if you could give one box of cookies to Jeonghan too,” you said shyly, grabbing a box you kept on the table. 

“Stress baking?” Joshua asked. 

“Mhm.” 

“Gladly. We’ll go deliver these. If you need anything at all, call us, okay?” Seungcheol said, and you nodded, hugging both men before they headed out. 

Wonwoo never thought he’d live to tell the tale. But here he was, watching Jeonghan sniffling and eating a cookie while Wonwoo tried hard not to laugh at the sight. It wasn’t entirely funny, but Jeonghan sniffling and biting into a cookie like a child was almost amusing. 

“She makes nice cookies,” Jeonghan mumbled, and Wonwoo could no longer hold back a laugh.

“Hyung, she said she needed space, and she told Seungcheol and Shua that she wasn’t breaking up with you, so I think the sniffling and cookie eating can stop,” Wonwoo suggested lightly. 

“It’s been two days,” Jeonghan sulked. 

“But she won’t break up with you,” Wonwoo repeated, making Jeonghan place his sixth cookie down. 

“That’s true,” Jeonghan muttered. Words could not explain how relieved Jeonghan was when Seungcheol told him that you weren’t planning to leave him. He couldn’t believe it. It was such a relief. Now, all he could do was count down the days. It was just difficult when he didn’t know when. 

“Maybe instead, you could do something nice? Like cleaning up the apartment, getting her her favourite flowers, chocolates or something? Cook for her, make her feel welcome?” Wonwoo suggested, and Jeonghan nodded, huffing dramatically as he got off the couch. 

“Yes. To quote Cardi B, I shall cook, clean and be the best boyfriend. Am I missing anything?” Jeonghan asked. 

“One thing, just don’t play any more dumb pranks.” 

“Got it. Anything else?” Jeonghan asked. 

“Yeah…don’t ever quote Cardi B again.” 

It had been four days, and today you were going back. You missed Jeonghan, and you just wanted to see him, but also, he had not sent you a good morning or good night text yesterday, and you were slightly concerned. 

Concerned that he was wallowing, over-blaming, and criticising himself. You decided to go back and find out why he wasn’t responding to your texts. 

You missed him, and it was the perfect opportunity to see him again. 

Jeonghan wasn’t a good cook. This was a fact. Even his best efforts couldn’t take away from the fact that he could never cook. When you’d cook, he’d always watch and sometimes help prep some vegetables. That was it. 

However, Jeonghan decided to take Wonwoo’s advice and wanted to cook you a three-course meal. It started going wrong during the first course. While boiling the vegetables, Jeonghan looked up the recipe and held his phone precariously close to the boiling pot; one second, he looked at the recipe. Next, he was trying to figure out if putting his arm into boiling water would be wise. 

Jeonghan drowned his phone and couldn’t text you. To make matters worse, he accidentally slipped on a potato peel and rolled his ankle. Jeonghan wasn’t clumsy, but the nerves about you possibly coming back sometimes made him frantic and careless. 

Jeonghan was lying in the bedroom with his swollen ankle and drowned phone. He had hobbled to the bedroom, wondering how he’d contact you or his bandmates. Granted, he had a laptop, but that meant more walking, and right now, he just wanted to wallow a bit. Maybe it was karma for pulling such a crappy prank on you. 

“Hannie?” You called out as you entered the apartment, setting your duffle bag on the floor and kicking off your shoes. You walked into the apartment and noticed that the kitchen was a mess, but everything else was spotless, and there were also flowers in vases. There was also a humongous teddy bear on the couch, and you smiled fondly at it. 

“Hannie?” You called out again. 

You were starting to get worried. Between Jeonghan’s silence and the messy kitchen, you were worried that he had hurt himself badly. You walked in further and headed to the bedroom. 

“Hannie?” 

Jeonghan sat up quickly and jumped out of bed, shrieking in pain once his foot landed on the floor. 

“Baby,” Jeonghan whined, and you ran to him, pushed him back on the bed, and sat next to him. 

“What happened? Why is your foot purple?” You asked, noticing the swollen foot. 

“Uh, don’t laugh. But I was trying to cook, but I tripped on a potato peel and rolled my ankle,” Jeonghan explained sheepishly, and you bit your lip to keep from laughing. 

“Shall I get you some ice? It must hurt?” You offered, moving to get up, and Jeonghan gently wrapped a hand around your wrist and pulled you back down. 

“You came back,” Jeonghan mumbled, and you nodded. 

“I missed you, and I love you too much not to come back,” you said softly, and Jeonghan wrapped his arms around your waist and placed his chin on your shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry,” Jeonghan apologised, and you turned in his embrace to face him. 

“I promise no more pranks, ever.” 

“That’s not necessary, but just not ones that’ll break my heart. I love that you’re playful and a pain in the ass at times, but just don’t make me worry if you love me or not,” you explained. 

“Never. I promise.” 

“Hannie?” 

“Hmm?”

“Why didn’t you call anyone if you hurt yourself?” You asked. 

“Right, so I drowned my phone. It fell into the boiling water, so,” Jeonghan trailed off. 

“I leave for four days, and you’re a mess?” You joked, and Jeonghan nodded. 

“I’m always a mess without you. I’m so sorry, Y/N.” 

“Jeonghan. I won’t say it’s okay because it wasn’t, but I can move past it, just no more dumb pranks?” You asked, and Jeonghan nodded. 

“I promise, no more dumb pranks.” 

“Hannie, you could have emailed me or said you were hurt or, like, I don’t know, used something to tell me.”

“I was scared you wouldn’t believe me,” Jeonghan mumbled, and you shook your head at him. 

“I think I believe you a little too much,” you teased, making Jeonghan pout. 

“Let me grab you some ice, and we can catch up on lost time?” You offered. 

“I don’t need it. I just want to hold you.” 

You smiled at Jeonghan and leaned in to place a soft kiss on his lips, making him smile into the kiss as he moved slightly to deepen the kiss. 

“I have a lot of making up to do,” Jeonghan mumbled as he pulled away from the kiss. 

“After your foot recovers.” 

“Baby, I am a man of many talents.” 

“You drowned your phone and rolled your ankle because of a potato skin,” you countered. 

“I don’t need my foot to bury my head between your legs, though,” Jeonghan teased, winking at you, making you laugh at him.

“You’re impossible. You’re lucky I love you,” you said with a smile.  

“I am, baby. The luckiest.” 

#seventeen #jeonghan #seventeen fanfic #svthub #gotcha: y.j.h #kvanity #indigo writes: jeonghan

[melalot]

TSATS BOOK REVIEW/ANALYSIS (aka i go over things i feel was misinterpreted in the book)

So I read TSATS book, and I’m realizing that a lot of stuff in the book was misinterpreted so I’m just gonna write this here to drop my 2 cents. 

Beyond this point there is spoilers

So personally y’all I loved the book, mainly because of how different and refreshing it is from other books.

I know this book had a co-writer, and honestly I’m glad there was a co-writer because I think the co-writer understood something that I felt like Rick has underplayed in many of his books.

How trauma affects people.

I mean this book was FULL of it, and I think it really flew over a lot of people’s heads as to how crucial Will and Nico’s past experiences and trauma’s shape them as they are and their whole relationship - now let’s go into more detail. 

First I want to say - to me this wasn’t a book about them going on a quest to Tartarus to save Bob. To me this was the story of Solangelo. I mean we literally have the nymph ask them both to tell them the story of them. And the book shifts between their current conflicts, while showing the past of how they came to be, how that led up to them now.

And I also want to remind you guys that they’re both 15 year olds, and that they’ve only been together for almost a year. Their relationship is still developing, but for what already is there? I am so surprised and honestly amazed and proud of how strong they are together, they balance each other out perfectly.

Let’s start with Will. 

I keep hearing about Will being shown as a chill guy that is laid back and stuff - but I feel like you guys are literally forgetting BOO Solace who literally made it his point to be adamant about having Nico realize he wanted to be his friend, and how he takes on the burden of healing every camper that comes to his infirmary. Like this boy ain’t chill - he’s got fucking anxiety y’all!!!!

But I loved reading Will’s POV and I loved reading the way he viewed himself and his relationship with Nico. Will is a son of Apollo, and he hasn’t been out in the real world as much as other demigods have like Percy and Annabeth and Nico, and the other 7. Sure he was at the Battle of Manhattan and he went through some things in the Gaea war, and some with Nero BUT actually going into a quest willingly like that? He never has, so he may not have as much of an understanding as other demigods will about their time in war and their struggles.

Will also didn’t have the same upbringing as Nico. He is a completely different individual. And I’m bringing this point because of the moments in the books where Will would talk badly about the Underworld and where he didn’t seem to understand it the way Nico did. 

Of course he wouldn’t understand it the way Nico did - he wasn’t Nico, but also he was surrounded by people who viewed the Underworld as a creepy place, so yeah Will kinda got roped into that stereotype. But you know what I admire about Will? That he recognized that he didn’t understand, and that he tried to view it the way Nico did, and eventually he did. Like sure he realized Nico would get irritated with him at times - but also they weren’t talking about what was really bothering them in those moments - so both of them had a right to be upset. 

I think Will was just also afraid of Nico going back to his old ways. We saw throughout the book that he was afraid of Nico leaving him, that he’d realize they’re too different - his insecurities about it. Because Will hasn’t gone through what Nico went through, and by the book, they’re supposed to be polar oppostites, but he didn’t let that stop him from from trying to understand his boyfriend. 

Will also had trauma with feeling like he had to fix everyone. He was a healer, he was the son of apollo, optimism and fixing things was his thing. I think the important thing towards the end of the book is him realizing he didn’t need to fix anyone, especially not Nico. Because Nico didn’t need fixing, he just needed someone who accepted him and understood him as he is. And Will came to understand that when he said he didn’t want to keep a version he made in his head of Nico, because he recognized that he was trying to fix him all along and was going about it the wrong way. Will allowed himself to accept some of his own darkness, which in turn gave Nico some of his light. Honestly it was truly beautiful that they added that part about love isn’t about people coming to save you from your tragic life and make you sudddenly love yourself. As per will and persephone’s convo - love is a choice made everyday. to understand and accept the person you want to be with. 

Now with Nico

Honestly it felt so refreshing to read Nico that was a lot happier and more himself and comfortable in his skin. To read about him accepting himself and being proud of it and being so openly affectionate with his boyfriend and vulnerable, is a complete 180 - and it goes to show how much he has healed because he himself DECIDED he didn’t want to shut people out of his life anymore

The patience Nico also had with Will in understanding that will was a different person so it would be harder for him to understand his second home was incredibly important, bc even tho he got irritated at him for it, he also recognized that he couldn’t be mad about something that someone didn’t understand. but he also saw how much will was trying, and will came around towards the end. they talked about what bothered them, they had their fights, but they RESOLVED IT.

another thing i loved about nico is his ability to want to understand another person and see their perspective. he did it with nyx and i thought that was so powerful, because it showed how he doesn’t see things in black and white, that he understands that the way people were brought up affect how they are in the real world, why he is the way he is. but he also doesn’t let it excuse them for their actions.

this whole book was about changing your life because YOU wanted to. understanding and accepting your past and trauma and learning to live with it BECAUSE you wanted to. Understanding one another to make a better relationship BECAUSE love is a choice.

the message is right there!!

so yeah, this book wasnt about a quest to save bob

it was their story, and it was absolutely amazing

the story of how they got together, their first kiss (which hello even if it was after the death of jason, they had gone months dating each other and let me just say the gays have a way of being impulsive mfs lollll, i still thought it was so them) the way they took care of each other, and the kisses, and the jokes, and the ways they understood each other so well and their train of thoughts and the sun lamp and the tokens and the ring and just them 

they’re soulmates

anyway ty for coming to my ted talk, this book was amazing and i loved it

#tsats spoilers #tsats #TSATS review #the sun and the stars #the sun and the star #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo #will and nico #spoiler

[ryker-writes]

TWST characters as ✨best friends✨ (Octavinelle Edition)

What would it be like being friends with them? Come and find out! I offer my thoughts on what they would be like so I'm sorry if some of the characters are a little Ooc. Some characters I don't know as well but I'll certainly try! More dorms coming soon!

Azul:

you get so many best friend privileges

like you get discounts at the Mostro Lounge

or on a day he's feeling generous, free food or drink

I don't think he'd try to make many contracts with you

and if he does, the contract will benefit you

you are also well protected from other people

if someone bothers you he will just make a contract with them that will help you

he has blackmail on almost everyone so the people bothering you will sign a contract with him

if you have a problem, don't worry! he's great at coming up with solutions

he's very smart so he can help you study or plan things too

talk to him about anything and he will gladly listen

he's always gathering information about everything so you're helping him by talking to him

if you tell him about anything serious like your insecurities he will guard that information with his life

best at keeping secrets

in return just comfort him about his insecurities

he needs all the support and comfort he can get and will greatly appreciate it all

Jade:

scary eel friend #1

Jade can be scary so people won't bother you too much

but if they do just let him know then he will take care of it

as soon as you tell him you no longer have to worry

he will have fixed it before you even know

he's also very good at coming up with solutions to your problems

very good listener too and will not judge you for anything

he's pretty calm even if what you're telling him something crazy you won't get a super surprised reaction

he's lived with Floyd long enough that chaos doesn't bother him

this eel is busy so hang out with him while he works

he would love to tell you about the various mushrooms he finds while in his club

please pay attention he will know if you're not

will also show you his terrariums and explain the little details of each one

like what types of creatures are in there and what plants there are

automatically friends with Floyd

Floyd:

scary eel friend #2

I know I said Jade is scary so people won't bother you much, but that is taken to another level with Floyd

Floyd threatens people much more and is more likely to act on it so people fear him more

someone bothers you and he's ready to fight

he's not as good at coming up with solutions to your problems but he's very good at distracting you

he hates to see you upset and he tries to cheer you up

sometimes at the expense of others

he doesn't mind of course

if you hang out with him while he works, he suddenly stops working

he would rather hang out with you than work

Azul has asked you before to not just show up when he's working but it's up to you if you actually listen to him or not

you also can help with his mood swings

if he isn't interested in something but he finds out you are, he's slightly more interested

things are more fun with your best friend✨

don't get me wrong tho, this doesn't mean he'll put a whole lot of effort in

but he will still do it

automatically friends with Jade

Jade is happy Floyd has a good friend

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #octavinelle #octavinelle x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #twst azul #twst azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech #twst jade #jade leech x reader #twst jade x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #twst floyd #twst floyd x reader

[froglovemushroom]

This Ariel is a Headutt-er!

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x alien!fem!reader (Mantis and Peter Quill's younger sibling)(reader is the same species as Mantis)

Warnings : A wee bit of violence

Summary: Instead of Prince Eric, it was Ariel herself who swept you off your feet.

Aurhor's note: everyone is alive in all my fics, except if a specific setting or timeline is mentioned

This is a fic requested by @fayhar ! I'm so sorry it took me so long to finish this, I got too caught up with classes. But it's summer break now and I can finally write again! Hope you like this fic! English isn't my first language so please point out the mistakes nicely, I'll fix it 🥲

It all started when Yondu handed Peter a DVD that he had obtained from Earth.

The cover of the DVD box read 'The Little Mermaid' with a picture of what looked like a girl who is half Terran and half fish with bright red hair.

It was the first time the gang ever watched an animated movie during movie night and everyone had different reactions. Drax made silly comments, Rocket complained about certain scenes, Peter would place a kiss on the crown of Gamora's head during the more romantic scenes, and she would cuddle closer to him, Mantis and Groot were gushing about the little details and Nebula, surprisingly, seemed to enjoy the movie.

And you? You were enchanted by the whole thing, from the dinner scene, to the little fair date and boat ride. From all catchy songs and romantic lines to the heartbreaking conflicts ang the heroic fights.

You laughed, you cried, and you were undeniably HOOKED.

And let's just say with a little bit of begging (and using your big black puppy eyes), you managed to convince your brother to get Yondu to find more of these wonderful films.

You would consume every single thing that Yondu could get his hands on in a crazy short amount of time. Mantis would find you huddled up into a little ball on the couch in the middle of the night, eyes gleaming like a little child as you watched whatever new DVD that Yondu had gotten his hands on.

From old Disney movies like Cinderella and Beauty and the Beast, to the more modern ones like Tangled and Frozen, you had seen them all.

But alas, 'The Little mermaid' is the one that holds your heart.

And as result of all the Disney that you've been slurping up, you eventually found yourself wondering if you're going to get your happy ending.

When is a prince Eric coming to sweep you off your feet? Take you on carriage rides and dancing at carnivals? Are you even going to get a happy ending?

Your brother told you there is someone for everyone in the galaxy.

"And when you meet them.....You'll know it."

He'd said, as he looked at Gamora with a warm loving gaze.

You found it hard to believe.

You'll know it when you meet them? How???

You were skeptical.

Until one day when the Guardians got invited to a party by Tony Stark himself, did you find yourself staring at a certain woman.

It was nearly midnight, the music was still blaring loudly and you found yourself getting a little too overwhelmed, so you decided to flee the scene to catch some fresh air.

You stepped outside, eyes closed as you feel the cool wind gently brush against your skin. You had expected that the party was going to be a little too much for you, but what you hadn't expected was for there to be someone else at the balcony.

This 'someone else' was a woman, and beautiful one at that. She was wearing a black cocktail dress, the fabric hugging her body in all the right places. Her fiery red mane was curled to perfection, the luscious tendrils framed her face like puzzle pieces that fell perfectly into place.

Ariel.

That was the first word that came to your mind.

Her eyes were closed, lengthy eyelashes fluttered in the wind, and she huffed out a deep sigh, seemingly bothered by whatever it is that's on her mind.

You reached out to place a hand on her shoulder, aiming to calm her down and maybe make her feel a little more at ease with the help of your powers.

But the slight brush of your fingertips against her skin was enough to make you end up on the cold ground. With your wrists pinned to the hard surface nonetheless.

Your antennaes tensed, the gears in your head were running miles per hour, one second you were reaching out and the next thing you know you had been headbutted onto the floor into a vulnerable position.

With your mind still spiralling, you spat out the first thing in your mind.

"H-hello! A-are you Ariel?"

What?

It looked like your question had taken the woman aback, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Did this bitch with antennaes just ask her if she was a Disney character?

"Am- Am I who??"

"A-ariel?"

You had no idea what's going on, but you were somehow very, very intrigued by the woman on top of you.

The woman looked at you up and down at your attire.

Party wear.

It took her a second before she realized that you were just one of the people invited tonight, and she quickly apologized.

"Sorry about that, my fight or flight reflexes just kicked in. And to answer your question, no, I am not Ariel. "

She chuckled in amusement when she saw you slightly deflate.

"Aw... Bummer"

You had mumbled to yourself, earning another chuckle from the redhead beside you.

You both stayed silent for a while after that, blocking out the muffled music playing inside and relishing in the peaceful night atmosphere outside.

"So...You're really not Ariel?"

Her head turned to look you, elbow on the balcony railing with her chin resting on ther palm.

"Sorry to dissapoint you, but no, I'm not."

The small pout that appeared on your lips made her smile.

The both of you started to pick on some random topics to talk about. Your jobs, hobbies, crime cases, outer space, everything you could possibly imagine.

Natasha could feel the click and so could you, the both of you felt a lot more settled than expected.

"So...Are you going to tell me your name"

You paused, you had completely forgotten to tell her your name. She let out a breathy laugh as you come to the realization.

"My name's Y/n, I'm one of the Guardians."

you shyly mumbled, hand fiddling with an antennae, a sign that you're embarassed, it's a little habit you've had ever since you were a young bug.

"Y/n huh? I like that."

The way your name rolled off her lips made you slightly dizzy, it sounded good, way too good, enchanting even.

"Don't you want to know my actual name?"

Your ears perked up at that.

"It's Natasha, Natasha Romanoff."

"Wow..."

It was even prettier than you expected it to be, and it fits her a lot. Her voice kept repeating in your mind, and it won't go away.

The echo of her beautiful name.

Natasha Romanoff, Natasha Romanoff, Natasha Romanoff....

"Do you like my name that much?"

"Huh?"

"You've been saying my name in repeat for a while now."

yikes.

"And your face is all red"

double yikes.

Your antennaes drooped as you fidget in place, eyes looking anywhere but at her. Your mind was spinning, everything was going at full speed in there, you didn't know what to think, what to say, what to do, it was all so fast to the point where everything was a blur.

Seeing you panicking like this made her chuckle. Sure she knew she's got an effect on people, and she never really cared about them.

But what you're failing to see here is that you had just as much of an effect on her. The way you looked so attentively at her whenever she speaks, as if absorbing every single word with such care and warmth, the way your eyes gleam when you asked if she's Ariel, down to the way you're panicking at her teasing right now, everything about you made her feel all warm. Comfortable even.

You're odd, but it only made her want to get to know you more.

Her slender fingers reached out, gently lifting your chin to make you look at her.

"Do you know that you're very strange?"

The sensors on your head drooped even further at that, is it because you're not a Terran? Is it because you look weird and have antennaes?

"I'm sorry I'm not a terran..."

Her eyebrows furrowed.

"What?"

"I'm not like you Natasha, I'm not terran..."

You felt her hands move to cup your face, and oh how you wish you could lean on them forever.

"Y/n, you've misunderstood, I meant it in a good way, and you're strange because,well, you're you. You're unique. And it has nothing to do with having antennaes or not. Though they do add to your scale of cuteness."

She laughed as your face started to flush once more, releasing your face to lean on the railing.

You don't know if you wanna slap that cheeky grin off her lips or kiss her it off instead, but your mind was once again all hazy.

Gosh, you're down bad.

Leaning onto the railing, you closed your eyes to calm yourself down, focusing on the cool night wind blowing at your face.

It felt nice and calming. What time is it? It's probably way past midnight, and with the soft wind cradling you, your mind was starting to slowly fall into rest.

Unbeknownst to you, Natasha had her eyes on you this whole time, and your dipping head landed onto her waiting palm, stopping you from headbanging onto the railing.

She carried you as your knees started to buckle, carefully placing you on the couch in the living room. She watched over you until the guardians decided that it was time to leave, they thanked her and walked out into the night with you still fast asleep on Gamora's back.

The twinge of jealousy that appeared was something unexpected.

Why is she jealous? Was it the fact that you seem so comfortable the zenwhoberian? Was it because she wanted to be the one you snuggle into? The one you're most comfortable with?

Whatever it is, she knew she must meet you again.

You woke up in a daze the next morning. How'd you end up back in your room? Weren't you talking with Natasha?

Where's Natasha?

The sound of the door creaking open put your thoughts to a pause.

"Y/n! Breakfast is ready!"

Peter walked in with a glass of water in his hand, handing it over for you to drink.

"What's on your mind? I can see the gears in your head turning you know?"

You placed the glass down on the nightstand before turning to face you brother.

"PETER!"

"Wha- why the shout?!"

"What did you do before you married Mora?"

A blink.

Another blink.

"Oh, I proposed."

"What's proposed?"

And that's how Peter ended up telling you the whole story of him going ring shopping.

"I wanna buy a ring!"

Peter choked on his own spit. Whom for?? When did you find a lover?

"I wanna propose to Natasha!"

And the next thing he knew, he was already dragged out of the door.

The day somehow ended with you bouncing on your feet outside the avengers compound, a panting Peter Quill right behind you.

You had requested to meet Natasha, and was currently waiting for her to come down the multiple floors of the tower.

Peter was still trying to catch his breath after running around non-stop for the whole day.

"Y/n *pant* you can't just-"

He was cut off by the sound of the elevator door opening, revealing the gorgeous red-headed woman of your dreams.

"Hey Y/n, what's up-"

"Marry me!"

The whole floor went silent. Until Peter awkwardly spoke up,

"Sorry, I really tried to stop her, but she wouldn't listen."

When the redhead heard that you had come to give her a visit, she was much more excited than she would admit, her heart was pounding and she was in the elevator merely seconds after she heard the information, wanting to know why you were here again.

But a proposal from you was not something that she had expected.

"Marry me please Natasha?"

She looked at you standing there with puppy eyes, your hands presenting a red gemmed ring pop to her. This was certainly not something she gets to see everyday.

A hearty chuckle escaped her lips, and you deflated a bit, thinking that maybe she was mocking you. But your thoughts were dismissed when you feel a pair of soft lips pressed against your cheek.

"You're adorable you know that?"

You were frozen in place, did she just kiss you on the cheek?

What does this mean?

"As cute as this whole proposal was, I think I'll have to refuse it."

Your antennaes drooped in disappointment. You just got rejected.

"But instead..."

She placed her fingers on your chin.

"Let me take you out on a few dates first hm?"

Your mouth open and closed in wordless confusion.

"Date?"

"Yes date, we can go anywhere you'd like, how about that?"

Your eyes gleamed.

"Can we watch The Little Mermaid?"

She threw her head back laughing. Oh, could you be any cuter than you already are? But of course, she nodded and pulled you with her into the elevator. Leaving poor Peter to go back to the ship by himself.

Though he didn't mind, because seeing his sister so happy was worth it.

Maybe you'd have your happy ending after all, not with Prince Eric, but with beautiful badass Ariel instead.

And that's more than enough for you ❤️

Oh, and Thor asked for the ring pop, and you gave it to him. Thor is happy. Good job!

MASTERLIST

Tbh I deleted the whole thing halfway through cause it was a mess and I hated it, and so I had to rewrite it again😂

#natasha x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #callicreations #natty fics <3

[vampzzi]

Hello! how are you? i hope you have a very nice and pleasant day/night! :D

i have an idea about.. e1610 Miles with a Childhood bestfriend reader, the reader thought that Miles were avoiding them which makes the reader upset when in reality Miles were busy with his duty as a spiderman

And Miles makes it up by comforting the reader and cleared the silly misunderstanding, then they ended up spending their time together again like how they used to be.

hehe! i just thinks its cute, im so sorry if it was too detailed! 😭

“TALK TO ME, PLEASE.”

Earth 1610! Miles Morales x GN! Reader

Author note; AWWW this is so cute omg. I’ll fix the grammar errors and stuff later. I’m on a roll rn

You — had been friends with Miles since kindergarten, you guys were even friends outside of school. You guys would go to the park together and hang out, always on the swings together. That all changed as life went on and you guys matured, Miles began being distant and it pulled at your heart strings to see it. You guys were close, he knew it something was wrong he could always talk to you, yet he never told you anything.

It started with him answering messages late to him not showing up to plans at all, he didn’t come to the mall when you guys were suppose to go the mall. You had texted him several times, no answer. It dawned upon you to stop bothering him, you yourself started being distant cause why would you text him if he’s gonna answer late or not show that he cares. All kinds of emotions strung out of you but it all came down to you laying in your bed, letting fat tears fall down your face as you sniffled and blew your nose into tissues as you put them in the trash can.

Your phone rang as you couldn’t bring yourself to answer it but decided to answer anyways. Miles voice filled your ear “I’m so sorry for being so inactive with you lately, things have been busy lately”.

You sniffled and you didn’t know if you could talk straight “W-Well, why didn’t tell me that?” you could hear Miles let out a low groan “ill come get you and we can talk about it face to face.” You didn’t even get to say anything before he hung up. You looked a hot mess as you walked to the bathroom and began to clean your face, letting the warm water touch your skin as you checked yourself after drying your face.

Shuffling quickly as you stumbled to your room to change into something presentable, you could hear a knock at your door as you were getting your shirt over your head before finally getting it on and sliding your shoes on with a slight struggle that almost made you fall. “Commingg!!” You say as you make it to the door to reveal Miles as he rubbed the back of your neck. “You ready to go?” Slowly nodding as you stepped outside and closed your door behind you

“Soo, what’s been keeping you so busy that you’ve been ignoring me and acting as if I don’t exist” Miles knew he had to tell you, he told you everything and it hurt him to see you like this as you walked along the bush sidewalk of Brooklyn. “I can’t tell you out in public but when we get somewhere private, I can tell you.”

“Alright.”

You two were in an alleyway and Miles looked at you as you were leaned against the wall, he was chewing at his bottom lip as he came clean. “You know Spider-Man right?” You looked at him “uh huh?” Silence slowly filled the air as the last two words left his mouth “I’m Spider-Man”. You thought he was joking as your brain processed it but it started to make sense, that costume in his closet, the small little marks you use to see on his skin.

“Well, why didn’t you tell me sooner? I would’ve been more understanding Miles”

“I know that, it’s just I don’t wanna put you in danger”

“I guess that’s understandable ” you mumbled as you couldn’t help yourself as you hugged him, you missed him so much. “Wanna get some ice cream, I’ll try my best to make it up to you.” You guys were making your way to an ice cream place as you had got your favorite ice cream flavor as Miles had cookies and cream while you guys strolled the sidewalk before hitting up the park just like old times.

“Aren’t we too old?”

Miles said as you giggled “never too old to have fun” as you got on the swing and he joined on the swing next to you as you guys swung on the swings. “I’m sorry once again” Miles apologized again as you looked at him “I forgive you Miles, just at least text me about it geez”

You and Miles sat on the swings as you watched the sun go down together.

#SPIDERVINYL #earth 1610 #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #earth 1610 miles fluff #miles morales fluff #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #across the spiderverse #miles morales

[lilbabydilljr]

Bee[more]hyped!

Hi! Okay! So I’ve hidden details below, but if you just want the download link here you go.

Download (SFS)

Requires: UC, Easy Inventory Check

Alright, so a while back I found this lovely beehive conversion from Foresty, which was based on Untidyfan’s 3to2 conversion, which is in turn based on Gwenke’s functional beehive. What a way we’ve come! Believe (bee-lieve) it or not this is actually the object that got me interested in modding.

What I didn’t like about the original object was that it used 2 different objects as the honey, and the overload of effects. Lots of lag. So I’ve made a few tweaks!

The first 2 are cosmetic, I’ve moved the hive from the gardening section to Hobbies.../Misc, and the default texture is yellow, but the original green is still available. Bees are yellow, duh.

Sims now harvest honey directly into their inventory, which they can drink or stock the fridge with. This is a 4to2 conversion of the honey, which I thought was neat.

The hive now only displays the bee effects when open, or when a sim angers the bees. It produces a jar of honey every 18 hours, and Gatherer sims have a 50% chance of harvesting an extra jar each harvest. Lucky sims have about a 5% chance, and these can stack. A Lucky + Gatherer sim can harvest 2 extra jars, potentially.

Sims will autonomously harvest honey and occasionally inspect the beehive, please let me know if these values seem off to you I wasn’t super sure on them. Cowards will never harvest honey. Too many stingers!

The hive now builds nature enthusiasm when it’s used, and sims can harvest multiple jars at once. I’m not sure if there’s a limit to how much honey the hive can hold? I guess just keep an eye on it.

There’s two 2 new memories included as well. If you’re not comfortable with custom memories in your game please leave them out of your downloads folder, the hive seems to work just fine.

Caveats

Bee-cause of course there are. I might work some of these things out, but right now I’m done with this project.

My beehive and Foresty’s share the same GUID, and my jar of honey does as well. I’m not sure if that’s shared across all these hives or not. But you can’t have both in the game.

Children can not harvest honey, I didn’t feel like working on the animations.

Sims can’t drink the honey straight from their inventory, it must be placed first.

The animations and tool used to grab the honey are a bit off, but not enough that it actually bothers me right now.

Finally, the jar of honey itself.

As you can see the textures aren’t great? But I don’t know enough about objects to get it right. I’ll put this out there, if someone wants to help me fix this I’d be forever grateful.

I also wanted to edit the anger bees interaction, but I couldn’t get the chased by bees interaction to work? So I gave up. I do think there should be more ways for sims to die by flies anyway, but it’s not my ideal interaction.

Lastly, I wanted to convert the Honey Cake from 4, but food again proved challenging, and when I got to trying to do the coding so it requires a Honey in the fridge, it looked like a LUA script to me? So I backed off. Maybe one day. Not today.

You might be able to get away with not having the UC for this, but I think at the very least you’ll need BV. I can’t support any installations other than the UC though.

Anyway, thanks for reading! I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I am! It’s just a fun silly little thing, but our sims need bees right???

Credits/Thanks: Foresty, Untidyfan, Gwenke. Your original objects and coding are amazing, I hope I’m not stepping on any toes here! I did DM Foresty, but I figured since Gwenke’s code has been reused a couple times now I thought I’d be fine.

Edit: 04/30/23: Moved honey jar out of the catalogue. Whoops. Had it in there for testing.

Edit 05/08/23: Bees no longer accumulate inaccesible honey in the winter.

#ts2 #ts2 cc #the sims 2 #the sims 2 cc

[elly99]

Satellite

Part 2 of 5. Check here for more details.

Summer sunlight pries your eyes open. Check your phone to your left. It says 07:05, your favorite numbers. Turn to the girl on your right. She says nothing, fast asleep on her side.

But she makes your heart say many things.

Resigned to the waking world, you decide to put on some music to pass the time. The first playlist, hanni's recs. The first song, Satellite.

You got a new life Am I bothering you? Do you wanna talk?

You entertain the question. Do you bother her? Another comeback is on the horizon, yet here she is, staying over for the weekend. Again. Yes, it's always been this way. You both knew it would have to be this way. Only on the weekends. Only in secret. Still, you begin to wonder. Does she still want this? Is this too hard for her? Your head is spinning.

I go 'round and 'round Satellite

Perhaps you were thinking too loud, because she turns around and sees you awake. She smiles and wraps her arms around you. Enveloped by all the warmth in the world, you feel your worries begin to melt away.

"Good morning, baby bear," you whisper, kissing her head. She doesn't reply. She's asleep again. But the smile that's still on her face offers reassurance. It's that same smile from months ago, from that day on the beach.

Spinnin' out, waitin' for ya to pull me in I can see you're lonely down there Don't you know that I am right here?

As the song continues, so do your thoughts. You wonder if she knows how much she means to you. You wonder if she knows that no matter the time and place, no matter how hard it gets, no matter how lonely she feels, you're always right there for her. You wonder if she knows she's your whole world and you just want her to pull you in. You let her embrace answer your questions for now.

But you know you can't always have her near like this. You're confined to your apartment and to the two days of the week you get to spend together. You make the most of it by dressing up and ordering in food, pretending you're out on a date. Or by watching a movie and eating ice cream, pretending you're at the cinema. Or by planning trips to places you want to see when you're both older, pretending you'll see them in a week.

But she makes your heart yearn for more than just playing pretend.

The music goes quiet as your right earphone is removed.

"Why so serious, baby?"

You love the way she looks in the morning. No makeup. No compare.

"I was just thinking about you."

She buries her head in your chest to hide her blushing.

"What about me?"

It's muffled but you feel her voice resonate within you. It takes you a while to figure out how to answer. You stare at the ceiling, hoping to find the right words.

"About how much I love you." After a few moments without a response, you look back down to see her eyes on you.

"Your hair looks funny, bro. Let me fix it."

Of course. That's how she says it back. You sit up, laughing softly as she stands to go get her brush. The music is still playing in your left ear.

Spinnin' out, waitin' for ya

She comes back and sits behind you. You feel the bristles caress your hair. She's so gentle. As always.

"So what were you really thinking about?"

With her soft touch comforting you, you know you could tell her everything.

"Well I couldn't help worrying about things. Like, is meeting on the weekends too much of a hassle for you? Especially now that you're so busy..."

"Where else would I be, bro?" she cuts you off and gives your back a weak punch. "At the end of the week you're what I want to come home to."

You know she could only say something like that because you were looking away. But you could picture exactly how she'd look if you turned around. Beautiful is one word you'd use.

"What else?"

You wait a few strokes of her brush to respond.

"Minji, you know you're everything to me right? Like, I know this is hard but I want to make it work. And I hope you know that I'm always here for you no matter what. Even if we don't get to see each other a lot."

You hear the brush hit the side table, then you feel her arms wrap around you again. She rests her chin on your shoulder.

"I know, baby," she whispers in your ear. "I know."

Blinded by the light streaming through the window, you close your eyes. It allows you to feel only her warmth, her glow, shining brighter than late May sunshine.

"Your turn. Come here." You pat the bed in front of you. She kisses your cheek then passes you the brush. Now you're the one blushing like crazy.

Now behind her, you watch as she looks out the window, sparkling in the golden light. She must be an angel.

"That feels nice," she says as you begin brushing her hair. "What were you listening to earlier?"

"Satellite."

"Oh, Hanni recommended that one!" She begins to sing.

Right here, right here Spinnin' out, waitin' for ya I'm here, right here Wishin' I could be there for ya

"I love your voice, bro."

"Thanks, bro."

You both chuckle. Then she becomes serious again.

"Hey, I kissed you first, remember?"

How could you forget?

"And I confessed to you first. So I hope you always remember that you mean the most to me and I'm not going to give up on you. On us. Yes, it's hard keeping us secret. Every day that I'm away I miss you. But it won't always be that way, baby. I promise. It might take years, but this is worth fighting for. I'm always here for you, too, ok?"

She finally turns to you and your heart stops as she meets your eyes with tears in hers. "But for now we'll just have to keep pretending."

You drop the brush and reach for both her hands, pulling her close. This time it's you who leans in. But the kiss feels exactly the same as it did that day on the beach. It feels like home.

You nearly weep at the sound of Sunday morning traffic outside. She would be back, yes, but you would give anything for her to be able to stay. Forever.

"I love you, Minji."

You don't want to be a satellite anymore. You want to plummet through the atmosphere even if it burns you up. Even if you shatter on impact, you just want to be with her on the ground. To truly be with her under the same sky, under the same stars, always.

You want to tell the whole world that she is your whole world.

But when she says it ditto, maybe it isn't so bad to just play pretend.

#minji x reader #minji #minji new jeans #kim minji x reader #newjeans x reader

[adobe-outdesign]

Is there a pokemon you haven't reviewed that you're really itching to? Maybe one that bothers you a lot? I'd love to hear about some of your least favorites

(I'm pretty sure I've reviewed all of the Pokemon that I don't care for already, and it's not that big of a list to begin with. That said, I'm doing the Grimer line for this one because I don't care for the originals that much, even if I love the Alolan forms.)

Grimer... is kind of boring, if I'm being honest. Slime monsters are a classic in fantasy and RPGs, and you can see a lot of different takes on them across the board. The beauty of a slime monster is that they don't have a solid body, so you can do whatever you want with the design.

Not only do we already have a slime monster in Gen 1 in the form of Ditto, but Grimer is pretty standard. It's a blob with arms, a wide open mouth, and big eyes. Color-wise, it's pure purple to represent its poison type with no details on its body. (For the record, I thought this line had stripes for years, which would've made them a bit more interesting, but the 3D models confirm that the stripes are shading.)

What I do like about Grimer is that A) the expression is kind of fun, especially in the earlier sprites, and B) it does have some great lore. I love details like how it dies if there's not enough trash and filth for it to eat, and how this has caused them to slowly become endangered because the Pokemon world has been cleaning up its pollution. It's good world building, and adds some much needed interest to the line.

Ultimately, while I find Grimer pretty bland, Muk is really what kills the line for me. There are so many things you can do with a pile of slime, and all the line does is... get bigger. It does change its eyes, gain a strand of slime over its mouth, and loose an arm (or rather, the other arm is merged with its body). The shape of it is kind of nice, and I like the mouth even if the eye is a bit of a downgrade, but overall it's about as uninteresting as an evo as you could get.

All that said, while the Kantonian version of these Pokemon don't do a lot for me, the Alolan regionals knock it out of the park. My main complaint was that the original line felt very standard, so Alolan Grimer imminently works on fixing this by making the body green (also clever as it's another toxic color, as well as a standard slime color) and giving it a blue tongue with a bright yellow mouth outline and two small teeth (actually crystals). Some black accents around the eyes help them pop a bit as well. This instantly makes it stand out a lot more.

The reason for this change is that the line now feeds primarily on chemical waste instead of regular waste, having been introduced to Alola to deal with their trash problems. Once again, great worldbuilding!

And if Alolan Grimer wasn't enough, Alolan Muk improves on the line even further by massively changing the design. What was one yellow line around the mouth is now four different colors, (yellow, green, blue, and pink), which are incredibly bright. Under normal circumstances they'd look clashy and garish, but they work perfectly when used to represent chemical poisons and the like. It's also nice that the line actually has stripes after all these years, and they ripple in its animations, which is even cooler! (The blue stripes don't move, which is odd, but I digress.)

And in addition to that, Alolan Muk expands on A. Grimer's little "teeth" by including more crystalized poisons all over its body, giving it a jaw full of jagged, uneven "teeth" and "claws". The line went from being way too similar and fairly standard to incredibly distinct and unique. It's basically a perfect example of how regionals can be used to improve on older, plainer designs.

Overall, the original line is harmless but pretty par for the course. The Alolan versions are a big improvement all-around and a much appreciated addition to the line.

#grimer #muk #alolan grimer #alolan muk #pokemon #pokemon reviews #.gif