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#the moon makes everything prettier:)
nikswonderland · 11 months
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taken by me
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beamingdesign · 6 months
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enjoy every given moment
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simpjaes · 3 months
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FRENZY  ៸៸៸ part one
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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
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lovebugism · 18 days
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hello sweetheart, i read your prompt list and saw this one "hug?” “clingy, much?……” but hugs them anyway and my heart melted, i don't know if you already did this, but can we have something like that with our sweet but grumpy eddie? 🤍
ty for requesting! — eddie doesn't know why you're avoiding him (fluff, ditzy!reader, 0.9k)
Eddie lost sight of you ten minutes ago. 
You were squished between Robin and Steve on the loveseat last he saw you, giggling into your solo cup while they belted Total Eclipse of the Heart to you — at you — over the music and in their best Muppet impressions. 
He only remembers it so vividly ‘cause he was jealous. Not jealous because you were subjected to Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum’s drunken antics, of course, but jealous because you were with them. And so, so far away. 
Now you’re gone, and he misses you like a stray dog — aggressive and hungry and hurt. He walks up to Steve in the kitchen just the same. Hair wild. Button eyes glittering. Slightly reluctant. 
“Where’d she go?!” he shouts over the music, half-muffled into his drink. He uses the plastic cup like a shield ‘cause he doesn’t want people to know he’s missing you. The metalhead freak from the wrong side of town isn’t supposed to need the ball of sunshine from the suburbs. 
But alas.
“Uh, I don’t know,” Steve slurs, half-distracted as he pours himself a drink. He doesn’t need Eddie to tell him who she is. There’s only one person in the whole world he’d go looking for. “She went outside with Robin, I think—”
Eddie spins on the worn heel of his sneaker before the words can properly leave his mouth. He ducks through the bustling, drunken crowd and finds you sitting lonesome on the porch outside. Prettier than the full moon and all the stars in the velvet black sky combined. 
He walks to stand beside you, shoes thunking heavy on the wooden deck. You tilt your chin to smile brightly up at him while he slips a cig into his mouth. He cups the stick as he lights it. Pretends that’s what he came out here for. Not to see you, of course. 
Definitely not.
“What are you doing out here by yourself?” he mumbles beneath the cigarette in his mouth.
“Robin just left,” you answer plainly, half-shy.
“Why didn’t you come find me?” he asks with an air of nonchalance, still trying to play it cool. ‘Cause there’s nothing less metal than yearning.
You shrug. “‘Cause you were busy?”
It’s easier than telling him that you thought he wanted the space. Or that you actually spent the whole night aching to hang on his side — too scared of embarrassing him in front of all his friends to act on it. 
You know who you are just like you know who he is. Bubblegum pink doesn’t always go well with black. It gets in your hair. Makes everything go all sticky. It’s an acquired taste you know Eddie’s still getting used to — too much of it, and his stomach will start to hurt. So you figure it’s best to keep your distance.
You just didn’t think he was as grieved by it all as you were.
Eddie scoffs. I’m never too busy for you, he wants to say. He might’ve if he wasn’t such a coward. Instead, he blows smoke from his lungs and jokes, “I wouldn’t call keeping Argyle from crowd-surfing in the living room busy, sweetheart.”
A laugh tumbles from his plush lips. The golden sound falls over your skin like stars. You smile absentmindedly back at him as you rise from the creaking rocking chair. You plant your feet ahead of his and smooth your palms beneath his leather jacket, over his warm sides.
Eddie meets your twinkling eyes with narrowed chocolate ones. “What?”
“Hug?” you ask in a mousy voice.
The boy laughs like he’s too cool for affection, though he’d be lying if he said your offer doesn’t have his chest sparkling something fierce. He flicks the cig to the ground — sheepish gaze going with it — before snuffing it out beneath his sneaker.
“Clingy much?” he scoffs.
You nod with a proud smile. 
Eddie’s chest swirls with an unfamiliar feeling. You’re strangely brave about all this — affection and love and all things sweet enough to make him gag. 
It makes him feel like he can feel brave, too.
He wraps his arms around your shoulders and holds you with all the intensity of someone wanting to swallow you whole. You hug him back just the same. “I missed you,” you murmur with your cheek squished against his chest.
“Then what’re you avoidin’ me for, huh?” he teases, chin bobbing against your head.
You pull slightly back to squint at him. “I’m not avoiding you.”
“You’ve been hangin’ out with Steve and Robin the whole night,” he grieves, hiding his sincerity behind boyish theatrics. With a feigned pout that feels totally real, he says, “And you didn’t even sit next to me when we played Never Have I Ever.”
“I thought you wanted the space,” you confess in a hushed voice.
His face screws up like he’s tasted something sour. “Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know…” you shrug. “You always talk about how much you like being alone and stuff, so—”
“Well, yeah! I like my space— just not from you!”
It’s likely the least metal thing he’s ever said.
“Oh,” you hum, mouth contorting into a sheepish beam. “Well… Sorry.”
“Yeah. You should be,” he scoffs, mostly joking. He pouts softly and pulls you back into him again, nosing at your hair until his chapped lips brush your temple. “Just don’t let it happen again, alright?”
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avaf00rdxx · 2 months
Text
you’re like 30
Leah Williamson x Reader
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I wanted to get my tillies fic out tonight but I feel so sick but I still wanted to write. Here is this short asf Leah piece!!!
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You woke up to Leah’s arms tightly around your torso, you being her little spoon as you slept on your left side of the bed. It was Leah’s birthday today and you couldn’t be more excited. You very gently peeled the last arm off of you waist, and slightly shifted her leg back that was hoisted over your legs to hold you closer.
You went down the hall after quietly creeping out, grabbing your bag of presents you had put on the dining room table, all nicely wrapped and also turning on your coffee machine, making you and Leah one. While the coffee was being made you decided to quickly post Leah’s birthday post on instagram that you both did for each other every year, consitisting of old and new photos of each other.
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@y/n.y/l/n
happy 27th my precious girl. Thanks for being my whole world. So happy to be with you on your day, I hope it’s one to remember my love. Love you forever and always ⭐️ 🍾 @leahwilliamson
you quickly posted it before you heard Leah’s footsteps come up behind you. “No no baby go back to bed please” you smiled
“I’m already up” she shrugged still half asleep “happy birthday to me” she smiled, saying the part that you missed.
“Oh of course” you said gently grabbing her neck so you could give her a long morning kiss “happy birthday baby” you said softly before kissing her again. You handed her a mug before she thanked you and you brought her over to the living room.
You handed her a large bag that would sit up to your waist if you put in on the ground.
“What on earth” your girlfriend laughed
“There’s nothing crazy big. There was just a lot and it felt reasonable” you said motioning to the size
She unwrapped multiple presents from you. Like a new cowboy hat that you knew she would adore, an iPad for her piano app (well hopefully you didn’t spend that money just for that but the piano is an option), heaps of clothes from new and nice brands that she fell in love with, some random and silly gadgets you found online and while scrolling on instagram, and two new records - an old vintage record name ‘greatest hits of ‘75’ and a country hits one.
She gave you multiple hugs kisses after opening each gift. “Stop getting me so much” she teased, tickling into your side while you laid in her arms on the couch, wrapping paper surrounding you and you squirming under her tickles.
“Never!” You exclaimed. “Wait was your card in there?” You asked her remembering she hadn’t opened it.
She peeked back in the gift bag “don’t see one honey”
“Hang on” you said, getting out of her arms and heading up to your shared room to grab it. “Here” you smiled excitedly as your three the card on her lap before sitting next to her, head leaning now on her shoulder.
dear Leah
My old girl is getting older now
You mean everything on this planet to me and even further into the universe. I wouldn’t want to wake up next to a more sweeter, genuine, prettier, passionate, hotter and loving woman than you my Leah.
Thank you for being there for me when times were lower than usual, and I’m so proud of all of your achievements, it gets me emotional thinking of your beautiful and amazing career.
Love you to the moon and back and I hope you have the best day
Love your girl y/n xoxoxoxo
You studied her face as she read it, not quite being able to see her facial expressions from the next to the girl. When she finally looked up from the paper she brought her hand up to her eye to wipe it. “Oh baby thank you” she chuckled pulling you on top of her so you could cuddle into her,
“Of course” you smiled in the crook of her next “happy birthday I love you”
“I love you. And your old girl huh?” She said raising an eyebrow
“Yeah you’re getting old” you smiled shrugging, looking down at your smiling blonde.
“Your 26 and I’m 27. I was your age yesterday” she laughed
“Your like 30 basically. Maybe it’s time you settle down” you shrugged in a joking way “scratch the current plan you carry the children and I’ll be the grumpy dad who goes to work” you giggled
“Hm let’s take it day by day huh. And stick to our decision. And no one is giving up their career yet” she told you, wide grin still plastered on her face.
“Smart. Ok now read the second paper in the thing” you said pointing at the envelope before clapping your hands in excitement.
She pulled out an A4 piece of paper with some sort of writing printed out and an image of skydivers. “Oh my we are going sky diving?” She laughed throwing her head back
“Close. Bungee jumping. I printed out the wrong photo”
“That’s scary” she said cutely before you pinched her cheeks
“No we get to do it together. We are like connected together and get to jump together” you exclaimed. You loved heights. Leah didn’t mind them, you wouldn’t have gotten the experience if she didn’t like them. “Plus it’s way more safer than skydiving so” you shrugged looking back down at her.
“I love you and thank you. I’m excited to do it with you” she smiled kissing your lips slowly.
“Goody cause it’s tomorrow!” You said happily
“What-“
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Super short but I’ll start my draft for the fic you guys asked for tomorrow.
Love you! Stay nice in the requests and have the best day xxx
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writerdream22 · 11 months
Text
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requested by: anonymous, I really hope you like this ✨🌻💛
pairing: Chandler Bing x reader, Joey Tribbiani x reader (platonic), Monica Geller x reader (platonic), Rachel Green x reader (platonic), etc.
prompts used: “Have you ever seen anything prettier than this?” “Yeah, you”
warnings: mentions of smoking. English is not my first language so there might be some grammatical errors
feedbacks are always appreciated!
REQUESTS ARE CURRENTLY OPEN!
You did not like parties. At all.
It just was not your thing, and everyone knew that. That was the main reason why you had decided to stay home and relax rather than attend a Thanksgiving party with your best friends.
You did not understand why they were so attached to the tradition, anyways. The fact that you didn't grow up in an American household didn't help with that. Nonetheless, you weren't the only one who didn't always celebrate the festivity
“Do you have them?” Chandler Bing barged into your apartment. He held a couple of beers in one hand, and a bag in the other where there seemed to be some food.
“Yes.” you responded, sitting up from your sofa “I only had one quilted blanket, because Monica somehow couldn't tell me where she'd put the others. As for the pillows— well, I have two”. Chandler shrugged, then motioned for you to get going. You exited your apartment closing the door behind you, while silently hoping that none of your roommates came back while you weren't home.
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There was a full moon. The city was still buzzing, it was amazing how its lights were never turned off. You loved it. And the company just added to your enjoyment of the night.
You'd laughed at Chandler's never-ending jokes for so long that your cheeks hurt, and you'd eaten so much that you swore you would never open a packet of chips again.
“Have you ever seen something prettier than this?” you questioned, looking up at the sky in awe .
Chandler stayed silent for a few, awkward moments, before responding. “Yeah” he said “you”.
What the hell?
“Are you... are you drunk? I can make you that strange smoothie that we always had in college, if you want—”
“— no, y/n” he interrupted you, rolling his eyes.
You were more confused than ever, so you asked Chandler what he meant by that. “I'll cut to the chase” he began “I love you, y/n. Everything makes me think about you: even when I just stare at the wall or drink a coffee, you're what's on my mind. And look, if you don't reciprocate my feelings, I totally get it.”
You couldn't find the words to answer coherently. Those damned feelings.
“Are you for real?” you questioned, to which Chandler responded “Yes. I know it's shocking, but I'm being serious this time”. He took a deep breath before adding that he was going to pass out if you didn't say anything.
“Oh, I'm sorry!” you exclaimed “Well, uhm... I love you too, Chandler. I have loved you since we first met... Since Ross and Monica introduced the two of us”.
He was clearly trying to hold back a smile, but he failed miserably at doing so when you nudged him and remarked that you had to throw out those “best friends” mugs that you'd bought as a joke a few years prior.
“Yeah... We should.”
You didn't think you could be happier on Thanksgiving Day.
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janesgms · 9 months
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Astro Notes - 05
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– Introduction –
[✨️] In this post I wanted to talk about my SR placements for this year and my experiences with them, and then in the next post I'm gonna try to predict my next year experiences basing them on my 2024 solar return chart and come back here next year to tell you guys what i got wrong and what i got right 😀 (is this a stupid idea?¿ idk). Btw, i've made it writing it in a way that makes you indentify with it in case you have the placement!
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CAPRICORN ASC ♡ You're gonna show yourself this year like a more serious and mature person, you may focus on dressing more classy or just having more polites and elegant manners. You'll focus your appearance on aging better and even trying to look an age different from yours, in my case I think I wanna look younger lol. Your energy may be more grounded and even dense this year. You might look like you're always serious or deep in thought this year. Which is true because a friend told me that I look like I always want to punch someone when I was just with a normal face? Haahah and I never heard that bc I've also had a more calm vibe to my appearance lol.
14° DEGREE ASC/MC ♡ With the taurus degree on the ascendant and midheaven you may focus your appearance on venusian themes like makeup products, skin care, clothes!!!, accessories, anything that makes you feel prettier eith yourself. since the MC is in it too, people might compliment a lot on your physical appearance that year (or judge you too -_-)
LIBRA MC ♡ The SR MC reinforces how people are gonna perceive you that year and your reputation direction. With the libra MC, you might look like a person who focus a lot on appearance and love, even looking vain to some, you might appear to be someone who's constantly focusing on looking beautiful and being loved that year. It may be a year which your love life and personal cares with your appearance is gonna be very visible to others 😨 to my sadness, so it may indicate that you receive unwanted "advices" or judgements regarding these topics.
12H SUN ♡ you'll focus a lot on your subconscious mind that year. you'll focus on spritualism, the general occult. everything that's been hidden within yourself is gonna come out from yourself like an avalanche. this can also indicate your hidden enemies will be shown to you. you'll tend to isolate yourself more because of this or just because you feel like you're gonna be better this way.
AQUARIUS MOON ♡ your emotions will be focused and based more on your friends, who you want to get closer with, social settings (maybe parties), and things unconventional for you, or just new and exciting experiences, you'll see things in a new vision. think of your past years and habits and remember if this year you've started craiving or thinking on something unusual for you. You'll also focus on being more original and not following much the others, feeling like "I know my own worth and values and I'm not gonna change it easily for anyone". You might feel like you don't need to fit in anymore, like you're happy with your uniqueness. Also, idk if it's a coincidence but this year I got closer to someone who's an aquarius moon and this person taught me some really important lessons to me.
2H MOON ♡ you'll focus your emotions on physical sensations, your face, your food relationship, your physical posessions... this can make you crave financial comfort, luxury, relaxation, sensual intimacy maybe? you'll feel like you're more materialistic than in other years. this is so true, I was never someone to focus much in matters like money and posessions but this year I felt more inclined in wanting a better financial life, wanting more financial comfort, etc (I'm not proud of it lol), also a lot on my physical face - the 2H is also about it.
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CAPRICORN MERCURY ♡ you'll focus your communication style on being more direct, solid and someone who imposes respect. you might also talk about financial matters lol. you'll also talk a lot about your future profession, your future ambitions, your mental security, your workplace (be it school, job etc). you'll want to talk about more mature themes. I feel like it specially because this is my last year in high school so all the "focus" and expectations are in how my professional career is gonna start when i finish it and what college I'm gonna attend too, so I tend to talk a lot about these topics specially this year. For ex: I have lost counts on how many times people asked me which job I want to do this year.
1H MERCURY ♡ means you'll focus on finding your true voice that year. you'll focus on being honest with yourself and be more direct in your conversations. you'll focus on imposing limits with communication. i feel like this year i'm being more direct in my thoughts and I don't let people have their way with me and keep quiet so this is great for a personal development.
SCORPIO VENUS ♡ I still have hopes this placement indicates that you're gonna pass through the humilliation first (check ✅️) and then through the new vibes of your love life with a fairytale boyfriend (waiting?... ❌️ not check). But being more serious, the scorpio venus in here tells that your love life is gonna be intense for you that year. You may go through a break up that year if you're dating or a new relationship if ur single (there's still hope for us single ladies), since scorpio is all about transformations and rebirths. You might feel like you're more posessive and jealous in your relationships (friendships, affairs, etc) than in other years. You might go through an acquaintence with someone that'll make you suffer like hell but will make you stronger in the end. Your relationships this year can be secretive or just mysteryous in general, but summing up, very transformative. This can also be an indicator of letting go of toxic friendships or affairs so if you lost someone this year and ur still suffering stop if girl, cause this person went away for your well being and not for your worst.
11H VENUS ♡ (Guys as I'm writing this I'm so tired and sleepy so forgive me any typo but I'll keep going bc if I bury this post in my drafts and say "I'll continue later", than I'll never end this post like the others in my drafts so I'm gonna keep writing it with the appearance of a corpse but let's go) I'm almost 101% sure this aspect is the friendzone one guys, and probably you're the one who's gonna be friendzoned or already was. Sadly but it happens. So... according to the universe laws, this indicates that you're not gonna focus on romantic relationships and more on friendships but this wasn't the case for me, maybe it was because it's in scorpio. Furthermore, I think this indicates that my love life this year influenciated a lot on my social circle, or badically that it made me isolate myself because of my romantic life and fuck up my social life/"friends". It also affected my only real friendship, where it became really exhausting to me bc of it.
SAGITTARIUS MARS ♡ you'll focus a lot of your energy in things that make you feel like you're free, truly happy and actively stimulated. you'll probably focus your energy and passion in: going to parties, learning about philosophic matters, learning about the higher meaning, the truth about the universe, being more independent, wanting to live somewhere else, wanting to travel a lot or just knowing more about other cultures, living alone or at least far from your parents to feel like you're free, learning new languages, etc. On another note, you may focus on being more physical active and doing exercises. This mars can also indicate having a more disperse energy which changes direction easily. I relate to that and I'm really experiencing all of that and more in the future I hope!
12H MARS ♡ you'll put a lot of your energy in the matters said in the 1st note (12H sun). probably you're gonna get closer to hobbies like: subliminals, law of attraction, meditation, tarot, astrology, psychology, sel reflection, the supernatural, past lives, connections to other dimensions, getting high and/or drunk (👀), having constant connections with water (like rivers, lakes, beaches), things that you do alone like reading, listening to music, etc. In a more realistic side, you'll focus your energy and passion on changing yourself in a transcendental way, it's like the 8th house but in a more mental way, which also influentiates on your physical manners obviously. this is so nice in my opinion, it's been such a nice year in this sense to me, i'm gonna enjoy the rest of this year to the max because these hobbies were the best thing that happened to me this year.
12H CERES ♡ this is getting repetitive but wtv, you're gonna develop a soft spot (if you don't already have one) or just create a very nurturing attachment to the 12H matters (things said in the 2 notes above), so you'll feel like you're at peace when you're focusing on these things. and this is true for me! as i said before, when i focus on these things, I feel at ease and healed.
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– End notes –
[🩷] So guys, it was it for today. Maybe later I'll edit it and add the other planets house plafements but for now I'm gonna rest bc I'm literally dead and my hands are gonna fall, so byee! See ya and good night <3
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angrythingstarlight · 2 years
Text
Power Over Me
Summary: Bucky has a thing for sundresses, he loves it when you wear them for him. All you have to do is saunter around in his favorite one and he’s willing to do whatever you want. 
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Pairing: Beefy Biker Bucky x Reader
Warnings: Smut, Bucky being a 6′4″ menace, sex against a wall, praise kink, implied body worship.
A/N: Based on a tiktok about sundresses, written on my phone. Comments, reblogs and likes are cherished. Sinday drabble.
This is not the fic about the first time he saw you in a sundress, oh no he was way worse that day. 
|Masterlist|Biker Masterlist|Library|
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Bucky loves it when you wear dresses, you look beautiful in the classic little black he bought you for a party but his favorites are those colorful sundresses. The ones that show off your luscious curves, and slide across your ass with every step, highlighting your body in ways the other dresses can’t. 
He goes feral every time he sees you in them. He likes you in sundresses more than you like him in those grey sweatpants.
You can get him to do anything you want if you ask him while wearing the one red with the thin gold straps. Granted, he’s going to do whatever you want anyway, but he appreciates the extra motivation.
And he knows, he absolutely knows, what you’re doing when you saunter around the house, wearing a new sundress. Enticing him with your pretty smiles and even prettier eyes as the soft material sways around your hips.
It doesn't matter because he’s always ready to give you anything including giving you the moon whenever you want. He's just waiting for you to ask.
That's the power you have. And he loves it.
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Bucky's trying to behave, he really is. Even keeping his eyes on the manual he's studying, telling himself to stay focused while you moved around the living room.
All you're doing is rearranging a few things, a couple of candles on the mantle, sprucing up the wilting plant in the window, nothing too special except for the fact that its you doing these mundane tasks.
Yet he can’t help the way his gaze keeps straying from the page, wanting a glimpse of you. 
You're alluring, addictive. Without even trying.
He’s about to return to his work when you lean over, picking up a stray pillow off the carpet, the hem of your lacy dress riding up your thighs and he sees that you’re not wearing any panties.
His reaction is instantaneous.
His body moving towards you, like you're the sun, pulling him into your orbit. Just like that everything else is forgotten as he gazes at you.
Bucky swears that every time you do this to him, it’s like being struck by lightning. He can’t breathe, can’t move, can’t think for a minute, just drinking in the sight of his gorgeous girl showing off her perfect body.
He inhales deeply, attempting to get a handle on the torrent of emotions swirling inside him, happiness, potent lust, and a tinge of possessiveness.
“So I was thinking...” you start, glancing over your shoulder unaware of the effect you’re having on your boyfriend, your eyes widen when you see his bulge hardening, his eyes darkening.
Bucky leaps to his feet, tossing his Harley manual on the floor. “Yes.”
You laugh as he grabs you by the waist and spins you around. Your hands land on his chest and you tip your head back to look into his oceanic eyes. “Bucky, you don’t even know what I was about to say.”
“Gorgeous, the answer is still yes. You don't have to say anything else, I'm still going to say yes." Bucky says over your shocked giggles.
"It’s yours, you can have it, I’ll do it, I’ll make it. I'll get it, Yes we can go. The answer is always yes when it comes to you," Bucky continues, his large hands sweeping under the hem of your dress, and the feel of his calloused palms, makes you shiver, goosebumps trailing behind his deft fingers.
His hands curve under your ass, squeezing your soft skin as he picks you up, without any effort.
Hours working in the garage and in his home gym have sculpted his thick body into the masterpiece it is today, allowing him to manhandle you with ease, always making you feel weightless and small around him.
“You can have whatever it is you want, you know that,” he says, a smile lifting the corner of his lips. It’s true. Making sure you’re happy and taken care of has become second nature to him.
Providing for you is more natural than breathing. 
He backs you into the wall, framed pictures rattling and threatening to crash to the carpet below, not that you notice or care, laughter pinging between you, the both of you pushing and pulling at each other clothes. Your dress is bunched up around your waist, his pant falling to his ankles. What’s happening is wild and chaotic and irresistible. Just like Bucky. You need him right now, you can’t stand going another second without him inside you. Your hands reach between your bodies to find his thick cock hard and ready for you while he keeps a firm grip on your hips.
“Fuck,” he groans when you slide him through your drenched folds, coating his veiny cock in your slick arousal. “Is that all for me?” His deep voice is already strained and gravelly. “This pretty little pussy wet for me Gorgeous?” 
“All for you Bucky," you sigh. "Always for you."
You’re reminded of the feeling you get when you’re sitting at the top of a rollercoaster and then it drops, going 100mph, your stomach plunging to the ground and excitement laces around your racing heart. That's how you feel when he looks at you, when he kisses you, touches you. And it's how you feel every time he first stretches you, giving you inch after inch until he's so deep inside your pussy, you can't think. You can only feel him.
And he always makes sure you’ll feel him for days after he’s done with you.
"Good girl." He keeps his hands around your hips, holding you up, his head dropping down so he can watch you guide his thick length inside you. "So good to me. So fucking tight for me, wish you could feel how good you are."
Bucky’s eyes bounce between your joined bodies and your face, unable to decide which sight is sexier, the way you’re taking him or the way your eyes are rolling back, mouth slack as moans and sighs spill from your lips.
Every sound you make spurs him on, his pace increasing from the need to hear you scream his name so loud the entire block knows who’s making you feel so fucking good.
You gasp, a soft shuddery noise that slips down his spine when he rolls his hips, hitting that one spot only he can find.
“That’s it Gorgeous,” he rasps out, “that’s it, fuck you’re doing so good for me.” His head drops to the curve of your shoulder. The wet schlick sounds of your pussy gets louder, more vulgar with every deep, frantic stroke.
You cling to him, letting the pleasure wash over you in thick, sultry waves. "Right there, right there," you cry out, you don't have to tell him not to stop.
He won't.
Not when you're holding him so tight.
The same sensations tightening the coil in your belly are crawling up his spine, he has to adjust your hips, needing to go a little deeper, so greedy for the way your tight wet cunt wraps around him, knowing you can handle him. You feel so good he has to hold back, refusing to cum before you do. He slips a hand between you, and his thumb rolls over your clit, once, twice before circling it in an intricate pattern.
You jerk back, stomach tensing as the edges of your orgasm surround you. “Bucky,” you choke out, unable to say anything else. You’re so close it hurts. "Buck-oh god"
“I know, I know, go on and let go for me,” he encourages with a particularly deep thrust that nearly tears you in two, a cascade of pleasure bursts inside you, scattering through your veins and you clench down on his cock so hard his pace stutters.
“Fuck, that’s what I want,” he laughs breathlessly, grinding slower, deliberately drawing out your pleasure. “ You're doing so good. Cum for me, please cum for me Gorgeous," he pleads, snapping his hips into yours.
His filthy, sweet praise is all you need to fall over the edge, your orgasm slamming into you. His name leaves your lips on a broken gasp, your nails drag down his bare, sweat laced back, thin red lines marring his tattoos.
A few more languid strokes inside your spasming walls and his pace becomes erratic, sloppy,  his lips finding yours, the deep kiss broken by his harsh grunts of I love you as he loses control, pounding you into the wall until he goes taut, his muscles constricting, a low of hiss of fuck yes followed by warmth blooming as he spills inside you.
He stays like that for a few long minutes, holding you in his strong arms, resting his forehead on yours, relishing in your warm, soft body, his lips brushing against yours, giving you sweet chaste kisses until his breathing evens out, your hands rubbing his back, smoothing over the scratches you left.
“So what did you want?” He asks, a bright smile etched across his bearded face, as he pushes away from the wall, pulling out of you with a low groan before easing your trembling legs down one at a time.
Keeping one hand on your waist so you don't slump to the ground, he slides your strap back over your shoulder.
"Um..." You have to think for a second. Your brain’s still addled from the aftershocks of your intense orgasm. "Oh right! I was going to ask if you were hungry." You pause, tapping his bottom lip. "What if I was going to ask you to shave your beard or get rid of the motorcycle?" you ask, mostly out of curiosity.
"I meant what I said. It's always a yes when it comes to you. I would shave it and sell it for you." He replies sincerely, his love for you is apparent on his face. Your heart twists and you feel even better than you did a few minutes ago.
"Now about lunch-" A smirk slides across his lips and he tugs your dress up so he can get a good view of your messy, swollen pussy. He couldn't hide how much he wants you if he tried, his voice deepening as he stares down at you. “I know what I want to eat.”
You playfully slap his chest, chuckling. “Food, real food Bucky. Maybe we could try that new Thai place for lunch?”
Bucky gives you an incredulous stare as he drops to his knees. “Gorgeous, you got a five-star dessert between your thighs. Why would I want anything else?”
“Bucky.” You try to keep your voice firm but it's hard to maintain your composure when he's looking at you with such adoration. “We talked about this.”
“Fine, how about I eat you, then we’ll both eat and then I’ll have you again for dessert.” he bargains, gazing up at you with hopeful blue eyes, placing your leg over his shoulder.
You’re not going to say no to that.
“Deal.”
5K notes · View notes
rrairey · 3 months
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[title];
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𝐚/𝐧: i had no clue what to name this gimme some ideas- dividers done by @ cafekitsune
𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐌𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨, 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨
𝐜𝐰: nada
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:@no-b10g-here @anxious-chick @aleluvsuu @funky-writes @oneofthesevensins (please let me know if you want to join the taglist!!)
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𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢
He has known you for eight years.
He has known you for eight years, and for each of those 2920 days, he has patiently waited for a moment.
This moment.
When he saw you walking out of the car, wearing a dress/suit with the colour bringing out the flecks hidden in your eyes.
'Fuck you looked so perfect.'
And he almost dropped the flowers as you walked up to him, with that unfairly cute smirk creeping up your face.
'And fuck.'
Handing the flowers to you, he couldn't help the small smile that flooded his face as you accepted them and grabbed onto the arm he offered you.
Walking to the restaurant entrance, he felt the glares of men and women alike reveling in your beauty and glaring at the lucky man who got to hold [prounouns].
And he practically melted at your smile as he held the door open for you because that smile was for him.
'and one day, you will be his.'
'and that was a vow.'
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𝐌𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨
Leaning against the wall, he watched as you walked over to him, the hoodie that you stole from his closet slightly oversized on you and he smiled at you.
"ready?"
You smirk at him as he offers you his hand and grabs it swinging your hands together as you both walk through the dark path, the stars and the moon being the only light.
"Think they followed us like last time?"
Megumi shrugged, his mind flashing back to their first kiss which was rudely interrupted by Yuuji and Nobara being nosy.
"Nah."
Walking on the grass, with only the moon to accompany you two, Megumi sat down with a sigh and laid down, with you following shortly after.
"Hey Megumi."
"Oh no."
You scowl and swat at him, hearing a small chuckle erupt as you avoid touching your hair to the ground.
"Can i lay on your arm?"
Megumi sighed and adjusted where he was lying to look over at you, look at your earnest face.
"....fine."
You grin as he grudgingly lets you lay on his arm and you adjust a little to get comfy, hearing the calming sound of his breaths.
And a shooting star streaked across the sky.
But Megumi didn't care about the pretty stars or the magnificent moon.
Because you were prettier then anything and everything he had every seen.
And he closed his eyes making a silent wish.
'Please let the one be you.'
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𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨
a haunted mcdonalds play area.
thats the date.
thats it.
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332 notes · View notes
agentjackdaniels · 3 months
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On New Year’s Eve, @goodwithcheese opened her inbox to fandom confessions, and there was one that struck a chord with me about a fan in their late 30s who was still a virgin who wished they could read more fics that handled that situation.
Well, as a fan in my early 40s who is also still a virgin, I felt a connection to the anon. I invited them to come to my inbox if they felt comfortable and I’d see if there was anything I could do to write a story that fulfilled their wants. They did — and I did.
So just for you, dear Anon — but also for anyone in a similar situation to ours. (Please note: The fic is written with a female/AFAB Reader. I hope this is okay for the original request!)
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Title: First (Jack Daniels x f!Reader)
Rating: Explicit || 18+ only, please!
Word count: ~5.4k
Summary: You and Jack have been dating for about a month and you know the time has come to spend the night together. You’ve just got one concern: you’re still a virgin, and at your age, you’re a little shy to admit that. This, however, is very much not a problem for your gentleman cowboy — in fact, he takes your trust in him very, very seriously.
Warnings/Triggers: This is porn with plot, plain and simple. Reader is female, in her late 30s, and wears a dress/female-coded undergarments; there are two passing mentions of a somewhat visible hickey on her skin, but no other explicit description used. Oral sex (f!receiving); fingering; protected PiV sex. Explicit and constant discussion of comfort and consent, including Jack talking about and through it. Use of lube and male condoms. Jack goes above and beyond with aftercare.
Notes: For that darling Anon, who trusted me with their request and their fantasy. For @goodwithcheese, who made it possible to know there were others out there. And for my beloved, darling @ladamedusoif for her editing — and her title suggestion. (And a quick tag to @pedrostories as well.)
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Tonight’s the night. You can feel it, and part of you is ready — finally ready — but another part of you is absolutely terrified. Jack has been nothing but a gentleman the whole time you’ve been dating (nearly a month now!) but you’ve somehow always avoided the subject. You don’t know for sure if it’s fear, or nerves, or just plain embarrassment.
Either way, tonight is the night you and Jack sleep together for the first time.
For your first time.
You’ve dressed carefully, simply, though you did wear a matching bra and panty set (that’s how they do it in the movies, isn’t it?) that you bought specifically for this evening. It’s white, it’s prettier than most of your underthings, and you have to admit — you like how you look in just them. Hopefully he’ll feel the same.
Dinner is lovely, a nice night at a quiet Asian place near Jack’s ranch. You eat light, but well, and Jack doesn’t miss the chance to playfully tease you that you seem to be storing energy with your choices.
Your wink back at him makes him bite the side of his lip.
The moon is barely up over the horizon when the two of you walk into his house and he pulls you into his arms, his mouth sliding over yours, moustache tickling the skin of your upper lip.
“You look so beautiful tonight, Moonbeam,” he murmurs, his hands settling at the curve of your hips as he holds you close. “Like a fuckin’ dream.”
His fingers are inching towards the roundness of your ass, and you close your eyes briefly as you pull your lips from his. “Jack, just a moment.”
He doesn’t let go, but his hands still and he leans back to look into your eyes. “Everything alright?”
You nod. “Yes.” Your voice is firm, and you’re proud of yourself for that. “I just need to talk to you for a moment.”
His eyes are soft, cautious. “What is it, darlin’?”
A deep breath, and then, “I’m a virgin.”
That blunt. That simple. You’re an adult — there’s no need to sugarcoat what is just a fact. You’re almost forty, and you’re a virgin. It just is.
You’re surprised when Jack’s face doesn’t change a smidge. “Okay,” he says, easy as your admission had been. “So we go slow.”
A smile flits over your face, and the hands clinging to his shoulders flex around them. “You’re not surprised?”
“Only because it’s you,” he replies. “You’re so beautiful I’d have guessed you had folks linin’ up at your door.”
You shrug. “The opportunity never really presented itself,” you explain. You’re somewhat shocked you’re being so casual about it — you’d expected everything to be a bit more awkward. It just makes you more sure this is the right thing. “But it feels like it is now, so I wanted you to know so you’re not…shocked by my inexperience.”
“Oh, Moonbeam.” Jack leans forward and kisses you, and it’s deep and passionate and full of emotion. “Everything you do shocks me, but only in the very best of ways.”
You slip one hand up along the line of his throat to catch his ear between your thumb and forefinger. “Jack, sweetheart,” you murmur. “Take me to bed.”
It’s a game of give and take as you fall onto Jack’s bed with him, hands roaming and mouths meshed. You’re currently sitting on his lap, kissing like the world will end if you stop. He seems to be leaving a lot up to you, letting you lead, though he’s very willing to be just the right amount of pushy with you.
You’re the one who goes for his shirt first, your fingers working at the buttons of the soft gray flannel, a little clumsy but for the most part successful as you continue to kiss him. He gives you a break, just a bit, dragging his lips down along the side of your jaw as you slip your hands under the material, over his white t-shirt, your palms pressing into the soft firmness of his belly and sides.
As you slide the overshirt off his shoulders, his hands find their way up your thighs, resting just under the hemline of your skirt, hot and rough against your skin. He doesn’t move, as if waiting for permission, and you inch forward on his legs, pushing his fingers further. You’re pressed up against him enough that you can feel him half-hard in his jeans, and in the back of your mind you think just how powerful that is, to know you’re doing that to him.
“Can I take your dress off?” he asks suddenly, the first time his mouth isn’t on your skin since you got to his bedroom.
You nod. “Please, Jack.”
He touches you like you’re made of porcelain and steel, his hands firm but gentle as he slips them up along your body, careful not to tickle, bunching the material up until it’s gathered at your shoulders and he can tug it over your head. With one swift movement, it joins his shirt on the floor beside the bed, and Jack’s eyes are all over you in its place.
“Christ, Moonbeam. Look at you.”
“Is that a good thing?” you ask, though his fingers pressing harder into the skin of your thighs answers that question before he can say a word.
“Better than good.” He lifts up and drags his mouth along your chin, his facial hair brushing your lower lip, the sensation absolutely wild. “You’re gorgeous.”
You grin. “Look who’s talkin’.” Twisting your fingers in the hem of his undershirt, you catch his eyes again. “My turn?”
“Anything you’d like, darlin’. I’m yours to do with as you will.”
The white tee joins the pile, followed in short order by his well-worn Wranglers.
When it’s just you and Jack, bare skin and thin undergarments, you take a moment, sit back against his knees. His full lips are even more swollen and pink from your kisses, his dark eyes blown with desire, his hair mussed from the shirt and your fingers. You reach out and trace a fingertip down along his chest, pausing just briefly on the larger freckles that dot his skin, down only as far as the top of his black boxers.
Meanwhile, Jack’s hands are mostly still, though the one holding you steady around your back is stroking the line of your spine just so. The sensation is damn near electric. He’s watching you as you touch him, a smile teasing at the corners of his mouth, and when your hand does stop, he looks up and holds your gaze.
“Here’s the big question, Moonbeam,” he says gently. “Who’s gettin’ naked first?”
You pause. It’s now or never, and every single nerve ending in your body is saying now. Without a word, you climb off his lap and — hands trembling just ever so slightly — you reach around to unhook your bra. It and your underwear fall away until you are fully exposed to another person for the first time in your life.
It feels…incredible.
Especially when Jack all but visibly melts at the sight of you. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way,” he says, his voice smooth and easy, “but I might just be the luckiest man alive bein’ the first to see you like this.”
“Why would I take that wrong?” you ask, taking a tentative step closer to him and reaching out to brush your fingers over his cheek.
He shrugs slightly, pressing a kiss to the inside of your arm. “Because it feels just a bit like I’m lookin’ at you like a prize I’ve won.”
You smirk, closing the space between you and catching his lips in another searing kiss. “But Jack, you have.”
He takes initiative again, pulling you back down onto his lap, tight against his groin so you can feel him at the core of you. It’s a bit of a shock, but not an unwelcome one, as Jack kisses you across your lips and up to the shell of your ear. “I’m gonna lay you down now, okay?” When you nod, he nips at your jaw and flips you over easily, caging you between his arms. “If you need me to slow down or stop, you just say so. No questions asked.”
You lift your head to kiss him softly and smile. “I trust you, Jack.”
His smile warms every single part of you. Sitting up just for a moment, he reaches over to pull a couple of things out of his bedside table — a small blue bottle of lube, a foil packet with its unmistakable round content. The nerves kick in just a little, and it’s as if Jack can tell.
“It’s alright if we don’t use these today, Moonbeam. I just want to be prepared if you choose to.”
You nod carefully. “Do we…” It feels stupid. “Do we need a towel?”
Jack’s laugh is clear and happy. “No, darlin’. I don’t mind gettin’ a little messy.” He lifts your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. “You ready for me?”
“Absolutely,” you reply, and he stretches out over you again, his knees on either side of your thighs, his hands planted beside your shoulders.
He kisses you once again, dragging it out on your lower lip until you squeak in arousal. Then, he turns to his task.
Jack’s maneuvers are slow, meticulous. His lips line the column of your throat, down along your collarbone, and he starts off between your breasts, his tongue tracing a line down the center of your sternum before he slides one hand up to cup the roundness of you. “Remember,” he says, his breath ghosting over the moisture he’s left behind on your skin. “Use your words.”
“Go on, Jack,” you say, a bit breathless just from the thought of it. “I want — I want you to put your mouth on my tits.”
“Thatta girl.” You see that he’s grinning as he does what you ask, his tongue bringing your right nipple to full attention before he gently scrapes his teeth over it.
The stimulation goes right to your center, and you’re slightly embarrassed by the moisture you feel between your legs. If Jack notices, though — and he must, because his lower half, still clad in his boxers, is pressed against you — he doesn’t say a word. He keeps his focus, hand holding your breast steady as he works his mouth over it. It isn’t until you’re squirming and gasping that he finally lets you go with a pop…
…only to move onto your left side.
You have never once been this turned on in your entire life. Virginal or not, you’re not innocent — there have been videos and audios, books and stories. The little plastic toy in your nightstand has enjoyed many a night cupped in your palm and buried between your thighs. You know how to get yourself off, what fantasies work and what thoughts push you over the edge.
None of them, not a one, not even your best nights, match what Jack is doing with his mouth right now. And, you know for a fact, he’s barely even started.
Your whole chest feels like it’s on fire by the time Jack finally lets go of you, his mouth finding that place between your breasts again as he kisses the same line right back up. “How’re you doin’?”
“I’m… I’m good,” you stammer. “More than good.”
“Good,” he echoes. “Mind if I work a bit lower?”
You nibble at the plush of your lower lip. “Slowly,” you say quietly.
“Of course.”
He doesn’t lie. Sliding a little further down on the bed, he picks up where he left off, the base of that line of wet on your chest, and leaves featherlight kisses down along your belly. He takes a moment to dip his tongue into the fold of your navel, and you gasp, earning a raised eyebrow as he looks up at you.
“Don’t stop.”
Jack takes his time around the area of your stomach, alternating kisses and little nibbles on the skin there, his coverage widening until you feel the scratch of his moustache at the very top of your mound. This is where he finally stops again, lifting his head.
“I need you to promise me that you’ll talk to me now,” he says, and his tone is serious. “I’m going to use my mouth on you. My fingers, too, if you’d like that. But if you need me to stop…”
“I know. I’ll use my words.” You reach down and brush his brown-black hair off his forehead. “Kiss me, Jack.”
The mattress shifts as Jack moves off it, getting to his knees between yours. He’s gentle as he uses his hands to push your legs open more, settling his body there to hold you open for him. He gazes up at you, the wrinkles around his eyes more pronounced as he smiles. “I’ve got you, Moonbeam,” he murmurs as his thumbs press little circles into the fronts of your thighs. “Just let go for me, okay?”
“Okay.”
Your gentleman cowboy lives up to that reputation as he lowers his head and presses a chain of kisses to the soft, unblemished skin of your inner thighs. When he meets the apex, he ghosts his lips over you and when you don’t flinch, he moves in a little harder.
His aquiline nose bumps against your clit, and that’s what causes you to jump. Before he can react, though, you speak up, your clear “I’m alright” paired with the fingers curled into his hair keeping him from pulling away and breaking the rhythm. At first, it’s just nose and breath, the combination enough to have you moaning lightly as you carefully rest the backs of your knees on his shoulders.
When he deigns it time to introduce his tongue, your mind shuts down and your body takes over. “Jack, yes,” you hear your own voice say, even though you don’t actually feel the words leaving your throat. He nuzzles a bit closer, nose against you as he slides his tongue inside your walls, his lips sealing tight around you.
For some reason, you’d expected this to be weird and uncomfortable. Maybe even moreso than actual penetration. And yet, as Jack’s tongue explores your folds, your entrance — it feels…blissful. He’s careful, gentle, slow, though his movements aren’t without purpose and you feel your legs start to quiver around him. In response, his hands slip to the outsides of your thighs, offering comfort and stability as he moves his mouth a bit faster.
“Jack, I’m…oh, fuck,” you gasp. You scramble a hand down to where one of his rests, shoving your fingers between his and holding tight. “Please, please don’t stop, I’m gonna come, oh, fuck, don’t stop.”
He doesn’t. Not when your heels buck against his back, nor when you feel your hips grind down so hard you’re sure you must be either suffocating or injuring him, nor when you cry out in ecstasy some combination of his name and every swear you’ve ever uttered. You feel the familiar but also new sensation of the orgasm within you — the fuzzy lightness in your head like the climb of a roller coaster, the sudden immeasurable distance between your brain and your body, the curl of your toes and the tension of your fingers wrapped in his. 
Before you’re fully down from your high, he’s back, belly pressed to yours as he licks up into your mouth. One thing you’re wholly unfamiliar with is the taste of yourself mixed with someone else’s, and right now, it’s like the richest honey you’ve ever eaten. You and Jack taste incredible together, and he seems to enjoy it too the way he’s drinking in your lips and tongue.
It’s only when your heart rate starts to even out that Jack breaks your kiss, his forehead pressed against yours, his eyes searching your face. “Are you okay, Moonbeam?”
You blame the hormones still raging through your body for the words that spill forth next. “I thought you were gonna use your fingers on me, cowboy?”
Jack’s right eyebrow arches straight up, and his lips follow suit. “You give a girl one orgasm…”
It isn’t long before his hand is snaking its way down your body, however, finding the wetness his mouth left behind. His fingers are broad — this isn’t a shock to you after this long — but you’re still a bit unprepared for the way it feels pressed against the nub of you. He goes back to kissing you, long and lingering, as he draws little circles around your clit. He changes pressure with each rotation, sometimes so hard you feel the tissue and muscle shift; sometimes so gentle you think maybe you’re imagining it. He recognizes your need rising again as your kisses get hungrier, and he breaks away from you, shifting a bit lower again so he has better leverage.
“I’m gonna use one finger first,” he explains gently, moving his thumb to take the place of his index finger. “Get you nice and wet for me, and then we can try another.”
You’re both grateful for the explanation and desperate for him to just shut up and do it. “Please,” is all you manage to say, and the smile is back as he seeks out your entrance again.
You’re still pretty slick from his mouth on you as well as the heat of the moment, so he slides right in to the first knuckle. Watching your eyes, he continues a bit further, and you feel the slight stretch as you adjust to him, keening just a bit when he hooks his finger a little and catches a spot inside you.
“Ohhhh.”
“You like that, darlin’?” He almost sounds like he’s teasing, but you know he isn’t. He drops another kiss on your arm. “I’m gonna go back down there, make it easier on both of us.”
“Easier”, you discover, means movement. Jack settles back on the floor, one of your knees over his shoulder again as he reintroduces his finger, this time slowly, lazily almost, pumping his hand in and out. The drag of his knuckles against you has you whimpering, and you’re just cognizant enough to make sure you pepper in a few “yes”es to be sure Jack knows you’re okay. 
“Gonna try a second finger, alright?” At your desperate nod, he trails his fingers between your folds, gathering moisture, before pressing his index finger back inside, followed by his middle one.
The pain is sharp, but completely fleeting — however, it seems like your reaction is enough to make Jack pause. “Alright, okay, I’m gonna try something different.” He kisses the bend of your knee and reaches for the lube, squeezing a bit over both of his fingers. “Tell me if this still hurts.”
The lube does help, and this time there’s no real pain at all. As both of Jack’s fingers fit within you, you let out a long sigh. “Oh, wow,” is all you can manage as he holds still, letting you adjust to the feeling. Jack chuckles a bit, wiggling his hand a little to encourage comfort, and you giggle. “Can you…move them?”
“You sure, darlin’? We can take our time, you know.”
You shake your head. “I’m ready.”
Jack kneels up and kisses your belly. “Okay, then.”
The room is mostly silent as Jack fingers you, only the sound of your heavy breathing and the soft, obscene squelch of your wetness and the lube as he rhythmically speeds up his movements. “Fucking hell, darlin’,” he mutters at one point. “Look at how good you take my fingers. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”
The words are enough to make you clench around him, and he grins, allowing his fingers to curve as he moves them faster. “Jack, Jesus,” you gasp.
“Gonna come again?” he asks, the tip of his middle finger catching a spot inside you that makes your whole body tingle. “That’s good, Moonbeam. That’s real good. Go on and let it happen.”
Jack’s honey-whiskey voice and his fingers are enough to send you right back over the edge again. Your back arches as he rests his free palm on your stomach, keeping you from hurting yourself as you ride out your pleasure.
He’s still curled inside you when you come down, and he speaks up softly. “Are you okay?”
You find your voice, in more ways than one. “Yes.” You lift your head, look down into his shining eyes. “Jack, I want you to fuck me.”
He looks only slightly surprised by your candor. “Are you sure you’re not too tired, darlin’? Like I said before, there ain’t no rush. We have all night. Or as long as you’d like.”
“I know,” you smile. “But I’m sure. I want this. I want you.”
He pulls away from you, discreetly wiping his fingers on his boxers as he stands and bends over you to kiss you hard. In response, you hook your fingers into his waistline and tug lightly. “I think, Mr. Daniels, you need to lose these before we continue.”
The tips of Jack’s ears go a little pink, but his moustache quirks as he wiggles his eyebrows. “You wanna see what you’re missin’, huh, Moonbeam?”
In response, you push up on your elbows, letting your knees fall open just a little. “I dunno, I just think since you’ve gotten so up close and personal with me, it’s only fair I see what we’re gonna be working with next.”
You swear you see ferality behind his pretty eyes, and he slips his hands under the material at his slender hips and pushes the cotton down.
You’ve seen naked men before. Okay, maybe not in person, but you know what everything looks like and generally how it all works.
You’re still very unprepared for Jack naked. 
Though he doesn’t have much hair on his chest at all, there is a long line of dark strands under his belly button that extends into a full — but neat — cluster of curls between his legs. His cock is thick, much thicker than the majority you’ve seen on screens before. At your eye’s gage, it’s long too, and his balls are heavy and broad beneath it.
There’s a tickling fear at the back of your head that his mouth and two fingers haven’t prepared you enough.
“Can I…?” You sit up, looking up into Jack’s face.
“Yeah, of course you can.”
You reach out and gingerly curl your fingers around him. The skin is silky and warm, the ridges and veins pronounced against your hand. You can almost feel him growing even harder at your touch, and instinctively, you pump your hand lightly back and forth.
Above you, Jack hisses through his teeth, and it makes you stop. “No, no, fucking Christ, darlin’, that feels good. You don’t have to stop.”
A thought hits you, and you feel the heat in your face as you lift your eyes again. “Jack, I don’t…” You breathe out. “I’m not sure I can…” Say it. “I can’t give you a blowjob.”
Jack’s hand slips under your chin. “I wasn’t expecting one. Tonight’s all about you, not me. And, for the record?” He smiles brightly. “You never have to do that for me if you don’t want to.”
You lean forward and press a kiss to his belly. “Thank you,” you whisper. You know that one day you’ll probably be able to — you really want to — but now…that’s the one thing you aren’t ready for yet. When you are, you’ll make sure it’s as special for Jack as tonight’s been for you.
Reaching around him, you grab the condom packet off his table. “Show me?” you ask, holding it up for him.
Jack’s patient, slow as he shows you how to unroll the rubber over him, making sure there’s enough space at the tip before he lets go and allows you to slide it over the remainder of his length. You can hear his breathing speed up as you move, careful to keep it smooth and even as you get to the end.
“Good girl,” he exhales, reaching for the lube again. “Hold out your hand.” You obey, and he squirts a bit into your palm. “Over me, and then use the excess on yourself just so we’re sure we’re ready.”
You coat all of him, maybe a little too thoroughly based on the groan he lets out, before leaning back a little and dropping your hand between your own legs.
“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” he jokes, and you narrow your eyes at him. “Kidding, kidding. You’re just so fuckin’ sexy.”
“Come on, Jack,” you reply, just as playfully, as you lie back against the pillow.
He does exactly as you ask. Stretching himself over you, he pulls your lips against his, fingers sliding through your folds again and working you until you’re whining against his tongue. He breaks away only far enough to whisper against you, “I’ll go slow, I promise, but you can still say ‘stop’ if you need me to.”
“Jack,” you murmur back. “Please, I need to feel you.”
He smiles, presses a firm kiss to your lips, and rests on one elbow at your side. With his free hand, he grasps himself, offering a few pumps against his palm to prepare, and then carefully notches himself at your entrance. Catching your eyes again, he strokes the side of your face. “Take a breath, Moonbeam. You’re safe.”
As you breathe in, he breaches your walls.
He goes as slowly as he promised, an inch at a time. Your eyes hadn’t deceived you — his cock is much broader than even two of his fingers, but his due diligence worked. Between your own wetness and the lube, it makes his movements easier, and because he takes his time, your body welcomes him in with each little push.
You’re not sure how long it takes for him to bottom out, but suddenly you feel his hips lock into yours. The feeling of Jack between your legs, inside you, is foreign — you feel full, stuffed even, but it feels right. Natural. There’s no real pain like you’d been taught since adolescence. Even the slight pinch you’d felt with his fingers earlier didn’t return.
It’s…wonderful.
“How’re we doin’, darlin’?” Jack asks, his voice strained slightly as he runs his nose over your cheek. “We alright?”
“You…” You look up into Jack’s face, the hand not currently clinging to his back coming up to catch the side of his throat. “You feel amazing.”
The grin that crosses his lips now could light up the whole room. “Oh, I am just gettin’ started, Moonbeam.” He hitches his hips the tiniest of millimeters, and you gasp a little. “Remember, just breathe.”
Slowly, achingly slowly, Jack pulls back, and you feel the loss of him deep inside so acutely it feels like emptiness. He doesn’t leave you completely, though, and when he pushes back in, it’s just a little rougher.
“Oh,” you groan. “Oh, that’s…”
“Again?”
“Again.”
Each time Jack thrusts into you, it’s just a little harder. And each time he does it, your body seems to open up more. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s filled and left you before your only thought is to keep him close the whole time. You tighten the arm that’s around his back, your other hand falling to his hip and gripping so hard you’re sure your nails will leave little crescents in his skin.
“Jack, please,” you breathe unevenly. “Faster.”
“You sure?”
You nip at his earlobe. “Never been surer.”
He adjusts his position a little, and the shift hits that same spot inside that his fingers had earlier. You tremble in his arms, and apparently, that’s the right move, because he pushes up a little onto his palms and begins to fuck you harder. You’ve lost all sense of language, and all you can do is keep your fingers pressed into Jack’s skin as he buries his lips in the hollow of your shoulder so roughly you know you’re going to be bruised.
“Oh, god,” you groan as your third orgasm of the night begins to build inside you, this time deeper and heavier than any you’ve ever felt. “Jack, fucking hell, I’m so close already.”
“That’s alright,” he pants against you. “Don’t hold back, darlin’, don’t you dare.”
You hitch your knees up, your ankles twisting around Jack’s shins as you try your damnedest to pull him in deeper. He slows, just a bit, and you want to scream until you realize — it’s helping. The drag of him deep inside, the less demanding rhythm, the fact that he can lean down onto you again and press you into the mattress as he pulls your release from you — it’s all working like a fucking charm.
He kisses you deep and hard as if he knew you were right there, and with one sharp thrust you cry out into his mouth. Behind your closed eyelids, there’s a myriad of colors and sparks, your brain whirling with every thought you’ve ever had and no thoughts at all. You wrap your arms around him so tight they hurt, you roll your hips to extend the feeling, and when he swears and pistons into you fast a few more times, you realize it wasn’t just you who was right there.
You’re not sure how much time has passed, but after a while, Jack slips out of you and carefully peels away the condom, dropping it into the garbage can tucked away under his nightstand. “C’mon, Moonbeam,” he says softly. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
You’re not quite sure how your legs are still functioning given you can feel the strain and stretch in them and between them, but you manage to get out of bed and follow Jack to the bathroom. You watch as he turns on the tap, adjusting the temperature until he deems it right, then dumps in a bit of bubbly soap.
“What?” he asks with a cheesy grin. “A man can’t enjoy a bubble bath from time to time?” You only smile in response, your brain still feeling a bit mushy. “There’s a clean washcloth on the towel rack. Go on and clean up a little and then you can sit in the bath.”
“Why?”
Another grin. “One, to get all that residue off you. We definitely did make a bit of a mess out there, Moonbeam.” He reaches over and pinches your ass affectionately. “But also, because you’re bound to be a bit sore and the hot water will help.”
You know he’s right. You do your best to clean yourself up with the cloth, trying to hide the wince that comes when you brush the space between your thighs. Jack starts forward, and you shake your head. “No, no, it’s okay. Sore, not hurt.”
There’s concern in his dark eyes, but he nods. “Bath’s ready. Get on in, it’ll help, I promise.”
When you’re settled under the bubbles, Jack tucks a folded towel behind your head. “Relax. I’ll go make us something to eat, get your energy back.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, his index finger brushing a spot on your neck that makes you squint. “I marked you good and well, darlin’. Sorry about that.”
He moves away from you to the sink to run another cloth over himself before slipping into a pair of sweatpants. Just before he snaps them into place over his hips, you notice the very clear set of fingernail marks left at the curve of his ass.
“Mm. Looks like I marked you too, Jack,” you murmur.
He looks over his shoulder at you and winks.
“More than you know, Moonbeam.”
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itgirl-111 · 4 months
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Embodiment of love
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She looks just like a dream.....
I am literally the prettiest dream girl ever. Looking at my face means instantly getting serotonin and adrenaline, dopamine rush. Just being in my presence is itself a present. My presence alone has value in it, feels like a literal nostalgic Deja Vu like dream you never want to wake up from. I embody love and beauty, physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually, energetically.
The prettiest stars in the world.....
My beauty is unrivaled, I look like the prettiest angels and stars of the galaxies. I am simply so breathtaking, irresistible, and unforgettable. I embody the prettiest sunsets, prettiest stars, prettiest skies, prettiest oceans, and prettiest art. My beauty is otherworldly, the one that you'd want to capture it so badly. Even the camera couldn't capture a tenth of my beauty, because I'm just way too beautiful. I am a living, breathing work of art. I am so mesmerizing it's insane. Every single day I wake up looking a billion times prettier than I was yesterday. My beauty knows no limits. I am just naturally and effortlessly beautiful. My beauty is the one that is once in a blue moon, it's rare, it's too precious. The moment you lay your eyes on me the only thing on your mind is "wow". Seriously, how is it even possible for someone to look this pretty that you'd take their breath away? But it is possible for me, yes, because I'm the ultimate dream girl.
Embodiment of love.....
I am the embodiment of love itself, you don't know true love until you see me. One look is enough for you to fall utterly in love with me. I am the first love, I am the definition of love. I'm the embodiment of love in the purest form. If love was a person it would be me. I'm immensely in love with myself inside out, and this love only keeps increasing. I act, walk, talk, like I'm a blessing because I literally am!!. There's something so lovely, adorable, otherworldly, ethereal, magical and angelic about my aura that people simply cannot help but to fall in love with. I have 0 haters, I mean come on, I'm literally the best of the best. I'm simply loved, respected and admired by everyone. I am everyones favourite everything. I am the dream girl, the one that you dream of. I'm the typa girl you wish you had. I'm the typa girl you wish you would become. I'm the typa girl who you see once and never forget. I'm the typa girl who you can't help but to love and adore. I'm the typa girl you want to protect and cherish with all your heart. I'm the typa girl you wanna see win. I'm the typa girl that takes your breath away. Im the typa girl that makes your heart race. I'm the typa girl who reminds you of everything. I'm the typa girl who reminds you of love songs. I'm the typa girl you miss when I'm not around. I'm the typa girl you wanna spoil. I'm the typa girl who brings the soft side out of you. The only one.
A dream....
I would just be sitting there and doing nothing and everyone would go crazy over me. Everything about me, my aura prompts people to smile uncontrollably like an idiot in love. Even the coldest of people turn soft for me. It's like everything around me just turns into that one romantic and dreamy shoujo manga. Being in my presence is strangely addicting yet comforting. The world is literally a happy, ethereal and magical dream when I am in it. People automatically feel better in my heavenly presence. I literally embody makoto shinkai's movies, so breathtakingly beautiful, dreamy and the literal embodiment of love. I embody all the majestic love songs. My beauty, presence, aura, vibe, personality, mindset, my voice, literally everything about me is so dreamy, perfect and lovable. It's like I walked right out of a love struck, euphoric dream. That's right I'm a dream you never want to wake up from.
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nikswonderland · 5 months
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ig: alexkittoephotos
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crystalofmoon19 · 4 months
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Childhood Friends - Striker x Female Imp! Reader Headcannons
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This is not a request, I still have more to go, but I wanted to make these headcannons so that you have something to read in what ended with the requests. Enjoy!
● You were a small female imp who lived happily with your large family in Wrath, every year your parents took you and your little siblings to travel to the other side of Wrath, to celebrate the Harvest Moon Festival.
● You loved the celebration, you watched in amazement as your parents participated in the pain games, you also wanted to participate but they told you that you were too young to participate. That's why they left you and your little siblings in a muddy area while they were in the care of your tired grandpa (who didn't take long to fall asleep.)
● You, for your part, decided to play in the mud with your little siblings and other children who were near you, but from one moment to the next your mud pies were trampled by someone. When you looked up you saw him.
● A young Striker who looked to be your own age approached you to stomp on your mud pies and tease you, saying that girls shouldn't play in the mud; that boy didn't look like any imp you had seen before and he had features of a snake demon because of his ringed green eyes and the spikes that were around his tail gave him away as a hybrid.
● But you were not going to allow this snake boy to treat you badly, so you decided to kick his foot so that he stumbled to the ground, immediately he pulled the braids of your hair. You screamed but you bit him on the arm and he let out a kind of snake-like scream; It didn't take long for you and Striker to fight each other while the other kids started a mud fight.
● Your mother and Striker's mother (who was a snake demon) had to separate them to stop fighting, and yet he mocked you by sticking out his blue tongue and you also did the same with your tongue. Striker was forced by his mother to come forward with his name and apologize to you, but you knew he was a bad boy.
“Shut up, you dumb girl!”
“Look who's talking, snake boy!”
● Years passed, as your family continued to travel to celebrate the Harvest Moon Festival, which meant that you had to meet Striker every year. He always found a way to annoy you, after all Striker when he was little was a very problematic child and you, being a very brave girl, made them always fight.
● Striker always found a way to annoy you, whether he was making fun of your braids or your love of music (where he said music was stupid to annoy you). You in response called him “snake boy” to emphasize that he was a hybrid and told him that his breath was stinky.
● However there was something that you and Striker had in common, and that was that you liked getting into trouble, you once decided to free the hellish pigs from the town ranch and Striker surprisingly supported you in doing this. And although this caused both of you to be punished by your parents, it didn't take away from the fact that you two make a great team despite everything.
● Another way in which you and Striker managed to become friends was that you started placing bets on the competitors of the games of pain every year, Striker thought that he would easily beat you in this, but the truth is that you managed to be tied in his bets and this made Striker impressed with you.
● As time passed, you and Striker put aside your enmity to have a friendly rivalry between you, you also learned to respect each other's tastes, you supported Striker to be a cowboy like he always wanted since he was a child and he supported passion for the music. (In fact he learned to play the guitar only because you did it to sing your melodies.)
● When you became teenagers, Striker began to see you with different eyes, you were no longer the annoying girl he had known as a boy, now you had developed a curvy body and your hips widened; You were considerably prettier now and he became taller, stockier and his teeth along with the spikes on his tail were sharper. Striker started to develop feelings for you.
● Now that Striker had become old enough to compete in the pain games, and he was more than willing to impress you, what he didn't expect was that you wanted to participate too.
“Why do you want to compete, Y/N?”
“I always wanted to enter since I was a little girl, I want to prove myself in the games!”
“Well, I hope you're prepared, you won't have it easy."
“Let's see who wins in the end, Striker!”
“Do you want to bet, Y/N?”
"What do you want to bet?"
“If I win the games, you will do my farm chores for a week.”
“Okay, but if I won the games, you will take care of my little siblings this weekend.”
“Okay, deal?”
"Deal!”
● You competed in the pain games with Striker, and now that you had grown up they no longer seemed to be as exciting as you thought, because now measuring your strength against strangers, going through obstacle areas and fighting with others was not the most pleasant feeling. You definitely didn't like the games but you still weren't going to give up so easily.
● Striker on the other hand performed very well in the games, showing little to no difficulty in competition, but he always had his eyes on you.
● You gave your best effort in the pain games, you resisted quite well, but your body did not say the same. So there came a point where you fainted in the middle of the competition because you were so tired.
● Striker surprisingly came to look for you when you fainted and carried you in his arms to take you to your family.
● Hours passed until you woke up with your mother again, she scolded you that you had pushed yourself too hard but she was calm that you were okay, when you asked your mother what happened she told you that Striker had carried you home; you remembered the bet.
● That's why you wanted to talk to Striker but you didn't need to call him, because he came into your room as soon as your mother gave him permission to do so and left you two alone.
“Striker! I know about the bet, I lost, I promise I will do your farm chores as soon as I recover…”
“No need, I didn’t win the games either, Y/N.”
“What, you didn't win? Did you…?”
Striker nodded before you even finished saying your question.
“Did you leave the competition for me?”
“And I would do it again.”
● Before Striker said anything, you smiled at him and gave him a big hug that he gladly reciprocated. What he didn't expect was that you would place a kiss on his cheek and it made Striker's cheeks blush and now he could be compared to a complete imp.
“Thank you, Striker.”
“You’re welcome, Y/N.”
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plutonian-moon · 1 year
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astro aspects observations p1 🖤 ☆°
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take what resonates leave what doesn't!!
moon-neptune (hard aspects) peoples can have hard time understanding their emotions or cant put their emotions in words ☆°
moon-pluto (hard aspects) can have a mother that is controlling or very intense sometimes even toxic also feeling very intense emotions with this aspects is very common ☆°
sun-asc (hard aspects) when it comes to a personality or just vibe that they gives to others is very different from their real personality and they can feel that they never are seeing by others from their true self :(( ☆°
moon-uranus peoples are prone to doing impulsive decisions and not thinking abou't what they are doing bc their chaotic emotions can affect how they acts ☆°
moon-jupiter/moon-venus/mars-neptune aspects peoples can make someone very lazy unless others placements/aspects etc says opposition of this ☆°
sun-moon (hard aspects) peoples can have a parents that are not together or are always in conflict with eachother..and they just dont get along together ☆°
moon-venus/moon-neptune aspects can make a person very creative/artistic!! ☆°
asc-venus (hard aspects) peoples are not any less prettier than asc-venus (easy aspects)!! ☆°
asc-neptune/asc-venus aspects can make a person that have a very soft features and with asc-mercury aspect u can even look younger but with asc-saturn u can look older and more mature !! ☆°
mars-pluto/mars-uranus/mars-jupiter (hard aspects) peoples can be very explosive and more impulsive when they are anger ☆°
venus-uranus/mars-uranus peoples can be more open to queer relationships or can even be open to relationships with more than one person (polyamorous) ☆°
mars-neptune peoples can more daydreaming abou't doing something 😭😭 ☆°
mercury-saturn peoples can be more quiet and not very talktive ..or can dont know how to respond to others so they can stay quiet and with hard aspects they can struggling with communication even worse unless others things suggest in birth chart that person is more open ☆°
mercury-uranus peoples can have a very short attention span ☆°
jupiter-saturn (hard aspects) peoples can feel very unworthy and can struggling with self-worth,self-esteem,thinking in a positive way and with getting attention from others ☆°
sun-chiron (hard aspects) peoples can have a very hard/painful relationship with their father and with moon-chiron with mother but they also have a strong potential to heal themself and others!!! ☆°
peoples easly come to someone with moon-mercury aspects when its comes to vent or advice !! also others can easly trust u lollll ☆°
mercury-neptune (esp. hard aspects) can lie alot abou't random stuffs 😭 ☆°
venus-pluto easly attract peoples with jealousy issues, trust issues or someone who is very possesive/obsessive could be both ☆°
moon-mars peoples motivations can depends of their mood !! (same goes to cancer mars/4h mars) ☆
mercury-venus peoples can have a nice hands tbh (gemini/3H placements too) also their handwriting is pretty ☆°
asc-uranus peoples have such a unique face or features just something abou't them is rlly unique when it comes to look ! ☆°
venus-uranus peoples can like doing unique makeup or can have also drawing in unique style !! also this can means that u can have more long-distance relationships ☆°
venus-neptune peoples are delusionals in love they will be ignoring all the red flags (same goes to pisces venus/12H venus and 7H neptune lol) ☆°
mercury-uranus peoples are so random with their words 😭 they can tell the most random things that comes to their minds they use sarcasm also alot ☆°
moon conjunction asc wear their emotions on face u can tell when something is wrong (same goes to 1H moons/cancer risings) ☆°
u cant lie to someone with mercury-pluto aspect bc they will find everything!!! ☆°
venus-neptune/asc-neptune/sun-neptune peoples looks so angelic istg (pisces risings/1H neptune too) ☆°
mars-uranus peoples in one minutes can have so many energy and in another they will have zero energy to do anything ☆°
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spiderfunkz · 9 months
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✧.* the way her hair falls
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— summary : spending a night with natasha.
— pairings : natasha romanoff x gn!reader
— word count : 0,3k
— warnings : pure fluff, established relationship (they also share an apartment), pet names, kisses & cuddling, reader being head over heels for nat, super cheesy stuff, and some typos probably.
a/n : just a simple cute blurb with natasha!! i absolutely love writing these types of blurbs. also this is more from readers prespective of them & nat's relationship.
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you absolutely love the night time. how the moon reflects on the buildings in new york, how the air feels thinner, how people laugh and smile under the stars, how everything feels so much slower, not-rushed, quieter, and more beautiful.
moments also feel more memorable at night. moments like when you first moved to new york, when you first heard the news that you got a job as an intern at stark-tech, and when you first met your future lover, natasha.
you fell in love so quickly, like a star that felt the magic of the moon for the first time.
since then you've never been happier, you've gotten closer over time, becoming friends, learning eachother's secrets, making inside jokes with one another, even patching her wounds sometimes.
you've learned how to care for eachother over time, which led to you one day asking her out on a date, which of course she said yes. and that led to you now.
the aroma of vanilla and coffee filled your apartment. you grab the cup and walked to your shared bedroom, with nat already comfortable in bed.
"coffee? it's already really late bubs." she yawned, "i'll live." you shrug, sipping on the drink.
you place the cup by the bed-side table before grabbing the sheets and snuggling near natasha. you lay near her as she slowly falls asleep, resting your head near hers.
you absolutely love nights like this. how music feels louder, how food tastes better, how the skies are prettier, and how you can spend it with your favorite person.
the way her hair falls, the way her freckles are more visible thanks to the moonlight. you adore her with all your soul and mind.
the polaroids stuck to your wall, capturing memories with her, the memory box on your shelf filled with all the notes she has given you and flowers that are now wilted.
you admire all the memories you've spent together as you fall to slumber.
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ykiwrite · 1 year
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departure
description: the only exception when headphones are not needed is when you're around
warnings: everything and none
requested: no
Not one soul truly knew with certainty what was the bond between Jenna and her headphones.
Majority of guesses pointed towards the same chain of remarks like a broken record, over and over.
She's obviously annoyed with all the attention around.
It's to drown out the fans, obviously.
Probably for a distraction.
While most of it was true, all of them were looked at from the surface level. There laid much heavier meaning. The one that Jenna herself is not too fond of uncovering to the world and never was.
She thinks it's sweeter that way. Not everyone has the right to know everything down to little details just because she made a choice of pursuing this path. Some things are better to stay under one's wing.
But when such thing is so broad, and the center of the media conversation, she grew to hate it which ultimately portrayed her as a liar and show-off. But she knew she was no different just because she preferred going outside more than staying inside. Just because she keeps on carrying them around everywhere she heads.
"Close your eyes, come on."
"I told you, i have them closed." Jenna insisted on the truth ever since you started struggling with her trickery for the past ten minutes. Unwilling and tired from opening gifts all day long.
It still felt like summer outside despite the calendar's date passing the one autumn was supposed to begin. You don't recollect signing a deal with the sun to set so deliberately on Jenna's face. As it were placed by your hand. Offering a daily reminder of how crudely you fell for the woman.
The sooner you start inscribing each detail of hers in your memory while this scenery lasts, the better. Not that you could ever forget her, even if she was taken away this very moment and never given back again.
You're just not sure how much will change, counting from this day onwards. A lot will.
Grabbing the box that, taking into account the trouble you withstand saving for it, could have been put together prettier.
But that was not Jenna's specialty after all. Being overly picky about things, it left no gaps for worry.
Normally, a grain of unease at giving gifts would invite itself but this one felt oddly at home.
Everything did with her around.
"So...it's nothing much. Just something that you're gonna, hopefully, take along with you when you leave."
Seeing the stuffed bags and girl's belongings as they confined the room felt suffocating. It took over your composure, twisting a knife stuck in you ever since news arrived. A week ago it had a life to it, it had Jenna written all over. Now, all it will become is an empty room until she's home again.
Jenna understood the absence of your pre-gift giving speech you surely had prepared for the obvious unsaid reasons. It made her awake.
Opening her eyes and first thing being you, she thought there's not a gift out there better than you in every way and form. But blinking the haziness away, she got the full picture.
"No way." She grabbed the box with a simple ribbon and a letter attached that will be delayed from opening for now. Knowing this day would never come if it wasn't for you making the actual move. All she did was words and never actions because "it's too much and i don't need it that bad".
Exactly why she needed it.
"But how? Why did you?"
You watched her open it like it has a fragile label plastered over. "I saved up. I know your saving addiction wouldn't let you do that and then what? You'd feel guilty so this is where i show up."
"Mannn, noise cancelling? Plus, it has that thing, forgot what it's called. You know the-"
She got over the moon with the unboxing while you watched. Less listened. You tried but it weighed heavy on your mind;
"So Jen," acted as a ground zero and breaking point, "since you landed this big role you're probably never gonna be home as much."
She knew where this was heading. You've been there many visits in the past.
"I won't be there to help with stuff unless you call or something. So distract yourself with this whenever you're out because i know how you are better than anyone-"
"Don't start again. You don't know that. I'm not gonna leave."
You hindered every way from this turning into arguing. Especially on her last day here. "Just listen to me. I want you to do great, even i'm not there."
God, this really is exhausting.
She stared at the folded headphones with your writing within them. A spot where no one could see. Just like a secret you were, and always remained, and it was always against Jenna to do so.
Her hands began to shake before she preoccupied them with the unfolding. Flashes were passing through the glass. She had no one to do what you were capable of. Or at least mimic, copy it in whatever way possible. The doors were opening against her will.
It was a double edged sword sooner than a pair of headphones she carried. Eternal reminder of what's left of you as ridiculous it sounds.
Your playlist compiled over the years was on while she was led by where the job took her down without you.
"I don't think i've ever seen someone so attached to their headphones, you know?"
Of course you didn't. God, he was too pushy. You wouldn't like him either.
Jenna laughed, toning down the insincerity but it was emerging.
"They were a gift before i left home some time ago. The whole idea was to-"
"Oh, they were? From who?" The man went ahead. He struck Jenna as someone who clearly wasn't interested in treating this podcast like a podcast. Rather a second hand source of news.
"Just someone that was, i mean- is really dear to me, you know?"
She should call you after this.
You were everywhere yet nowhere. In that woman leaning at the bar, in the deep waters of the conversation. In the guy sitting at the corner, reading something she can't figure out the name of. The girl chasing a dog for ten minutes straight.
This was so stupid.
"Are you okay?" Her only sane coworker out of everyone seated at this table patted her on the back, jolting her forwards. Perhaps she needed that.
"Yeah, why?" Who is she fooling?
"I saw who are you texting, that's why. Not to pry but maybe give it a break?" She was visibly cautious about the last part but uselessly.
"There's afterparty tomorrow, after the show. Maybe try and have fun?"
Come on. Jenna looked at her and smiled, in the meantime picking up the neatly placed headphones and pushing the chair to where it originally was. "Thanks but i don't think i'll be there. I'll be off now. You guys have fun, yeah?"
The third bottlecap dropping struck the floor and it was the loudest sound of the day besides the line ringing. Piercing her sense of hearing making it the only sound stuck for the rest of the week. Without Jenna acknowledging that. The cold, high story building with a nice view was never in the position to fill the void of you.
Jenna was tired. She was staring at the phone unanswered, it was all she saw on her unlit kitchen floor.
"I know you're not sleeping, please."
As a matter of fact, there was a mutual agreement. That type neither side obeys and respects. Maybe only just in the beginning but as days fly by it starts being harder to play by the rules.
She was only to call when it was critical. And to her, every day was critical and you weren't much different. Just better at hiding.
Quiet.
Jenna dared to smile to herself, unknowing she still had it in her.
"...it's late Jenna."
That alone, more than enough to keep her at bay. If only she can capture it and lock it away somewhere, anywhere that's close at reach.
"I know, i know. I just, i miss you."
The shuffling replaced your voice as it gave you time to think. So why did you go with the question you couldn't care less already knowing the answer to it. "How was the afterparty?"
Jenna knows you better than that. It's not foolproof.
"I didn't go."
"You should. Maybe you'd find someone."
A great deal of things this device around her head witnessed but this was fairly new.
"You know i won't-"
"What if you do?"
"Because i don't care about anybody else. Don't you get it already? In these past, what? Months we have been talking on and off?"
She let a sigh slip by her lips. "It was always you."
Hoping your laugh doesn't get mistaken for a rude one, it's just a cover up for what's really playing out behind the screen, you fought through, "Well then, prove it. You've been away for too long anyway."
Not much changed since the last time.
Even though, in regards to sites she visited, this is the most peace felt.
She wasn't an actor. A celebrity. A character. Someone who dealt with vast fame. She was simply Jenna here. And it's the purest version of her.
Standing at the entrance felt like the longest, most torturous thing she ever performed. There was nothing playing over the phone. Jenna still had them on which stopped her from detecting you behind closed doors.
You're not sure how long your hand was laying on the handle, it should probably do something about it soon.
It was not dark outside, but not complete daylight either. Jenna picked up on it when the inside light escaped. Shined on her greater and warmer than any place she's been to provided.
You stood there, for the first time. The silence in Jenna's mind, thanks to your gift, created a chance to worship, take you in ever more. Just like the first time.
Slowly, shortening the painful distance between, no words were said but if only eyes could speak.
It took Jenna some time to notice you removing what kept her grounded for so long. Until she finally heard it, without drawn out ringing of the line or a faulty service.
"You don't need them anymore."
"No. I don't."
notes: as you can see i was so heavy in the feels it needed to be done, thank you for surviving through i love you
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