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#i need a shower after this... this is disgusting

wh1msic4alwasab1 · 2 days

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⋆˚࿔ 𝐃𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

synopsis: how genshin men would degrade you <3

tags: degrading (obviously) facesitting, mentions of gagging, oral, penetration, explicit

wrd cnt: 800+

a/n: cooking up an hsr version soon

Ayato is always complete and proper in his semantics, he's fair and he loves to praise you.

But tonight...you stretched his patience too thin and his only choice was to stretch your little cunt til you couldn't talk back anymore. "Fuck, you're tight, honey.. this is what you want, isn't it?"

This day was big for Ayato, but you just had to keep pestering him with question after question. Usually, he'd entertain your playfulness but tonight was stressful. So he took it out on you instead. Call it karma?

"Clenching from my vulgarity..what a whore you are." He whispered into your ear, bending you across his desk, while all the guests sat outside having tea while you got fucked hard from behind by Ayato, who put a hand over your mouth, warning you greatly to stay quiet and stop those slutty moans of yours.

"Am I wrong or, did you not hear me? Ayato said lowly, slowly growing more and more annoyed and irritated at your misbehavior.

"Do you need me to gag that mouth of yours, y/n?” Sounding more like a promised threat than a question.

The only way you can get yourself out of this is giving Mr. Kamisato all he asks for and more, and be an obedient girl.

Nothing could really piss off Alhaitham as much as you, but not in the way that's most obvious.

He hated how much you doubted yourself, looked down on yourself, and harbored deep annoyance of the fact you didn't love the things about you he can't get enough of.

Sure, he could give you a little cute pep-talk but, fucking it into you is the approach that'll really make it stick. Some reverse psychology maybe?

After hearing you badmouth yourself for what felt like hours, he's stripping you of all your clothes and sitting you onto the couch armrest, forcing you to look him in the eyes; daring you to say those things again.

"Fucking pathetic is what you are. You're lucky I'm not fucking that stupid shit out of your mouth". He said, grabbing your hips as he sat down, positioning your cunt over him.

Not sure if you should just hover, his large hand lands on your ass, surely leaving a handprint.

"Sit down y/n." Alhaitham groaned, pulling your hips down onto his face and swallowing your clit with his tongue; his eyes never leaving you and your perfect tits.

Wriothesley loved showering you with compliments and nothing but the sweetest of words, but sometimes he just can't hold back all the filthy things he knows you want from him.

Oftentimes he's just worried you're gonna start crying, but fuck is it hot when you do.

"Fuck, I'm gonna ruin your pretty little mouth." He breathes out, watching you kiss up his cock. On your knees and eyes up is his favorite way to gaze at you, and it's just so easy for him to fuck your face.

"Wrio...you said-"

"Sluts don't get to talk." He cuts you off, his brows raised in amusement as he lights up a cigarette and throws the lighter somewhere, taking his cock in one hand to push past your lips as the other keeps the cig inbetween his fingers.

"Open that dirty fucking mouth of yours... can't take it all of a sudden?" He says, shoving it deep into your throat while his hand grips the back of your head, letting you take it at your own pace before he throws his head back and thrusts his hips up as he hears all the sloppy noises, waiting for your glossy eyes to make an appearance.

Now, Childe really tries to be sweet and praiseful, but he loves how disgusting and filthy you can be, and it's even better when he gets to tells you how much he loves it.

Wearing a new outfit wasn't something you expected to lead to something like this.

Definitely not being put in a tight mating press by your lover, pressed into the couch cushions while he left marks all over your neck and collar, biting and sucking places anyone could see to leave no guessing who's you belong to.

"Look at your thighs...they're just spilling out. You look like a filthy slut, do you want me to fuck you like one? Is that it?" He asked, pulling and smacking the material of your stocking that you didn't think too much of, but the minute he saw you walk out in them his cock wanted to spring out and get in between your thighs. But your pussy was an even better spot.

Deep and deeper be thrusted, the springs in the furniture squeaking while your voice almost did the same, cursing and moaning his name while he kept you close. Small protests for him to be quick fell from your lips, urging him so the two of you could get to where you were headed prior to this..."short" break.

"Are you gonna be a good girl or a fucking headache?" He asked, only fucking your harder and slower, a hand finding to squeeze the sides of your neck.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

#jo’s posts #genshin impact smut #genshin #genshin impact #genshin imagines #degredation kink #childe smut #alhaitham smut #wriothesley smut #ayato smut

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rainba · 10 hours

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Animalistic Instincts ღ

a/n: I just wanted to write a small thing about Luka being in heat some more... Particularly his breeding kink~ I made this one a fem reader, but if anyone wants a male version of this, I'd be happy to write it! ( ´ ▿ ` )

For this, reader is implied to be living with Luka.

TWs: breeding kink, dubcon (?), silencing via fingers shoved in mouth, dirty talk, unwanted pregnancy on darling's end, Luka being Luka.

NSFW, 18+ only!

Luka is a man who typically never loses his composure. He’s almost always calm, careful, manipulative, and smart to some degree. It’s something that he takes pride in.

…However, as a man born half-fox, there are days where the animal within him likes to take control. Every year when winter rolls around, that’s when his heat takes over him. And when that happens, he can no longer think for himself– he just goes wherever his dick takes him.

There are some times where he can be rational. Luka can still reasonably cook, clean, work, and take care of both you and him. However, he needs to fuck multiple times between tasks, which is a little inconvenient. He can still function overall, though.

But… There are days where his mind turns into total mush, and all he can think about is fucking you raw.

Luka knows that it’s gonna be a rough day when he wakes up and his first thoughts are centered around how badly he wants to breed and get you pregnant.

God, the idea of it all sounds so damn enticing to him. He’ll fuck you over and over again until you can’t walk, stuffing you full of his hot seed as he lovingly rubs your stomach. He can’t stop thinking about how beautiful you’ll be when you’re all swollen and big while carrying his children. Luka will take extra-good care of you every step of the way… He’ll spoil you like a princess.

“We’re going to have so many kids,” He’ll growl darkly as he savagely thrusts his cock deep inside of you, shoving his cum further in as he locks your hips in place. At some point, you’ll lose count of how many rounds of sex you’ve had.

“We’ll make a huge family.”

If you whine and tell him that you don’t want any kids, he’ll silence you by shoving his fingers deep inside your throat. You obviously don’t mean that…! You’re just a little confused and worn-out, that’s all. So instead of whining and saying things you don’t mean, how about you suck on his fingers and take his cock like a good girl?

After a couple rounds have passed and you’re thoroughly tired and overstimulated, Luka will start to slow down… But he doesn’t stop. Instead, he’ll just lay you down on your side and he’ll curl up behind you, raising one of your legs as he sensually fucks your pussy from the back. His breath is hot and heavy as he buries his face into your neck.

Luka's cum would be, quite literally, overflowing out of you and spilling onto the bed, but that doesn’t stop him. The animal inside of him demands that he keeps going until he physically collapses.

Also, it doesn’t matter if you feel all hot, sweaty, and disgusting– Luka downright refuses to let you take a shower. However, he will let you lay in bed as he takes a wet rag and wipes you down. His one rule is that you’re absolutely not allowed to clean up his cum. If you wash it out, then that means you’re lowering the chances of getting pregnant...! Right?

Afterwards, if you still cry at the thought of getting pregnant, he’ll kiss away your tears while reassuring you that everything will be okay– and that there’s nothing to worry about! Bearing his children can’t be that bad… If anything, it’ll be a wonderful experience! Don’t you worry your pretty little head, he’ll spoil you rotten for the next 9 months. ~

…But when tomorrow rolls around, if his mind isn’t mush anymore, the delayed post-nut regret will hit him like a speeding train. He’d consider giving you a morning-after pill, but… Honestly? Even when he’s not insanely horny, the idea of starting a family with you sounds nice. So, he wouldn’t give you it unless you genuinely begged him to.

#luka posting #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere #yancore #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere fic #yandere imagines

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xdaddysprincessxx · 1 day

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His Pretty Plaything

Uncle Ezra x F reader

Warnings: p in v, unclecest (again not blood related!), uhh this took a soft/sweet turn lol so emotions, some angst, pussy slapping, light edging, fingering, not beta’d, lightly edited, all mistakes are mine

Wc: 2629

As the summer was coming to an end, you found yourself tremendously confused with a dash of desperation. It’s been a couple of weeks since your encounter with Uncle Ezra. You think about him and that quite often. Most times your hands are down your pants in a frantic rush to recreate even an ounce of the pure unadulterated ecstasy he made you feel. But it was never enough. Your own hands failed you as you wished for him to come swooping in to take advantage of you again. You craved his cock, his filthy words, the way he claimed you as his. You got a taste and now you wanted more.

Fortunately for you, your dad was planning his end of summer party that he always throws. And you already know who will be in attendance. A little plan hatched in your brain; you were going to seduce Uncle Ezra and get him to fuck you again. You picked out an extra skimpy bikini to wear with a cute light blue sleeveless cover up dress. Excited for the party but more importantly you were excited to be filled by Uncle Ezra again.

The sun had already set as you stomped up the stairs to your room. Tears threatened to fall as you grind your teeth together in frustration and hurt. He ignored you. He never once looked your way no matter what you did. How could he defile you and then just drop you like hot garbage?!

You close the door behind you as you dive face first on your bed, hugging your pillow to your face as you let yourself cry. Feeling so ugly, so unwanted. You knew it was wrong what he did but you liked it. At first, yea you didn’t want him touching you. Didn’t want his advances but the pleasure he bought you was so indescribably incredible. And now. Now he acts as if you don’t even exist. As if you aren’t even there! Fucking bastard!

You cried yourself to sleep that night. Waking up still in your bikini and coverup from yesterday. You felt so disgusted with yourself. Peeling off what little you had on, you grabbed a towel and went to the bathroom for a much needed hot shower.

The hot water felt so good on your skin. The suds running down your body to the drain as you stood under the water, letting it completely cleanse you. Literally and figuratively. In your mind you imagined every inch touched by him being washed away, down the drain, never to come back and soil your skin again.

You put on an old baggy tshirt and some black cotton shorts before heading downstairs to grab some breakfast. As you round the corner going into the kitchen you look up and see your dad and him sitting at the table. Both men stop talking and look up at you as you enter.

“Good morning sweetie, Uncle Ezra and I were just talking. He’s gonna come stay with us for a few months. He’s gonna take the guest room next to yours while his house is under renovations.”

You huffed, “Oh great. Another man who probably leaves his dirty clothes on the bathroom floor and doesn’t clean up after himself. Joy.” You say dryly as you roll your eyes.

“Woah kiddo. That’s not very nice of you. Now I know damn well your daddy cleans up after himself as do I. No need to be a brat about this.”

“Whatever Ezra.” You say with venom in your voice as you grab a pop tart and walk back upstairs.

His eyes widen as his brows raise up in shock at your response.

“Eh don’t let her get to ya man. She’s just a little cranky in the mornings.”

A couple hours pass. . .

After seeing him in your kitchen and getting the lovely news that he’s gonna be staying with you for awhile really soured your whole day. You were laying in bed, scrolling Twitter when you came across a tweet that said ‘the best treatment for good girls’ with a video attached of a girl on her back getting face fucked by one guy and another fucking her pussy.

You bit your lip as you contemplated pressing play on the video.

‘Oh fuck it.’ You thought before hitting play.

The video itself was only nine seconds but it was more than enough to get you turned on. You exited out of Twitter and went to the internet browser hitting incognito mode and searched up your fave porn site.

Rolling on your back with your phone in one hand and the other softly squeezing a tit as you scrolled down the main page. You find a video of two women fucking each other. You decided to click on the video and start watching it.

Your can feel the tingles in your body as your pussy gets wetter. Pulling your shirt up, your tits fall out as you go to pinch your nipple.

You keep tugging and groping your tits before moving down to your cunt. You barely dip your finger in between your folds-

“What the hell is your problem girl?” Ezra demanded as he opened your door without knocking.

“Oh my god get out!” You shout as you jump up quickly removing your finger and trying to cover yourself.

It takes him a second to fully adjust to what he’s seeing before a smirk crosses his face. Reaching for the door behind him, he closes it before taking a couple steps closer to your bed. He places his hands on his hips as his smirk widens into a sinister smile.

“Ah now I get it. This why you were being a brat this morning kiddo? Huh? Poor little virgin got a taste of a real man and she needs more. Is that it baby? My pussy miss her daddy?”

“Oh fuck you Ezra! Me and my pussy do not miss you nor do we want you!”

That wiped the smile right off his face as he steps into your space, grabbing your face in his big hand, squishing your cheeks together.

“Don’t lie to me girl. You and I both know this cunt drools for me. You gone stop acting like a fucking brat or do I need to fuck it out of ya?”

As much as you want him to fuck you, the anger and betrayal from feeling unwanted at the party kept you from just saying yes. Your eyes start getting glassy as you swallow your spit ,

“Fuck. You.”

The sides of his mouth turn up into a smile as he lowers his face right in front of yours, “Oh kiddo. Acting like a brat is gonna get you punished. You don’t even have a clue what you’ve started.” He says in a low, gravelly voice. He turns his face slightly, nose touching your cheek as he slowly trails up to your temple.

An exaggerated moan comes from your phone and you both pause before looking down at the device.

You had completely forgot what you had been doing before you were interrupted.

“Now what’s this?”

Ezra is quicker than you to grab your phone and sees the video you were watching.

“This what you like kiddo? You get off watching pretty girls lick cunts?”

Shame and embarrassment heat up your face. You don’t know what to say,

“I - I It’s it-it’s not - wh- “ you stutter.

“Shh baby it’s okay.” He whispers as he leans forward, softly kissing your lips, “come here let Uncle Ezra help.”

He lets go of your face as he moves to sit behind you. Grabbing your hips, he pulls you in between his open legs, taking one of his legs and wrapping it over your leg and spreading you open.

“Hold the phone baby so we can watch together.”

You take the phone from him as he kisses the side of your neck. You can already feel his cock hard against your back.

“My hands don’t feel good Uncle Ezra. They don’t feel like yours.” You manage to get out in a whine.

“I know kiddo. I know.” His fingers interlock with yours as he pulls your hand up to his mouth. You watch as he puts two of your fingers in his mouth and sucks. Your mouth drops open as he stares deep into your eyes. Pulling your fingers from his mouth, he moves your hand towards your face as you take your freshly sucked fingers into your mouth, lips closing around the digits.

“There’s my good girl. I know you don’t wanna act like a brat. I know baby. Uncle Ezra’s gonna make his girl feel better.”

He pulls your fingers out of your mouth and places them on your covered mound. He uses his fingers to press yours into your clothed cunt and begin to rub circles right over where your clit is. You can’t help but throb from the friction it’s giving you.

“Watch the pretty girls baby. Watch them lick on each others pretty pussies.”

A soft moan is pulled from your throat as you follow his orders.

Ezra gets to work pulling your shorts down as you watch the porn playing on your phone. Throwing the shorts to the side, he pulls you back with him as he leans against your headboard. His legs wrap back around yours, holding you wide open. His fingers quickly making their way back to your pussy. Taking his time, dragging his thick digits from your entrance up to your little bundle of nerves and back again. You can’t help but buck your hips up, trying to get a little bit more. More touch, more friction, anything he’s willing to give.

The brush of his stubble on your neck, the feeling of his hot breath on your ear, he plunges two fingers in. You throw your head back in ecstasy as you finally get what you’ve been so desperate for. Ezra takes your ear lobe in between his teeth as he nibbles on it. Soft, sweet moans spilling from you as he massages your wet walls.

“Use those pretty fingers o’ yours baby. Rub on that sweet clit, make my pussy cum.”

You don’t need to be told twice. Your free hand quickly gets to work rubbing circles furiously on your bundle of nerves as he begins to finger fuck you harder.

You find yourself quickly on the edge, ready to spill over any second.

“U-un- uncle Ez- ‘mgonna cum”

Ezra pulls his fingers out as his other hand grabs your hand, holding it against your chest.

Using his free hand he slaps your pussy in rapid succession.

“No!!! What are you doing!?” You shout as you come back down from your almost high.

“Nuh uh baby you wanna act like a little brat I’m gonna treat you like a brat and brats don’t get to cum.”

You could feel your face heat up with anger and shame. You acted like that because of him. He lead you to this, to act like this.

“You’re my pretty little plaything baby. Mine. I control when this pussy cums. You wanna act like a bitch, I’m gonna treat you like one. You got that?”

Tears threaten to spill over as you bite your lip. Frustrated from not being able to cum, mad and upset from feeling rejected by him. You want to scream so bad.

“I hate you.” You manage to whisper. Scared to speak, knowing your voice would be shaky.

“You. . Ignored me. I- I tried so hard to get you to notice me. At the party,” you gulp in a deep breath, “You ruined me and threw me away.”

Ezra’s face falls. Eyes wide as he takes in your sad face as you reveal your truth. Your words are a sucker punch to his gut.

“Oh kiddo. No. No baby I noticed you. I always do. You made it so hard for me, all I wanted to do was take you, right there in front of everyone.”

With that, Ezra softy leaves a sweet kiss to your forehead before slowly trailing down to your nose.

“I’m so sorry I made you feel like that.”

His lips press a kiss to the top of your nose.

His lips just barely touching yours as you both look into each others eyes. It feels as though he is looking directly into your soul.

“You’re mine baby. Until I no longer walk this earth and even then, there will be no others ya hear me? Mine. And I’m yours honey. All yours. But we gotta keep this a secret. I know your smart kiddo, if someone found out about us your daddy would kill me. You don’t want that do you?”

You shake your head no ever so slightly. Tears now full on streaming down your face.

Ezra presses his lips on yours, seemingly taking your breath away with a soft, simple kiss.

He moves out from behind you, putting the forgotten phone down on your nightstand.

Pulling his own shorts down, his thick cock hitting his stomach. He lowers his body over yours as he takes both of your hands in one of his.

Lips finding yours again, your own tongue darting out to lick his lip, asking for permission to enter. He opened, allowing you inside. Eagerly you lick into his mouth as he tightens his lips around your tongue and sucks. A deep guttural moan pulled from the very depths of your body. Ezra takes his free hand to rub his cock through your folds before notching himself at your entrance and slowly pushing in.

The stretch making you moan more into his mouth as he continued to kiss you.

This was nothing like the first time he fucked you. Slow, deep strokes making you feel every inch of him. You grab onto the hand that’s holding your hands hostage, just trying to ground yourself. The immense pleasure making you feel as though your about to float away if you aren’t anchored to this earth. After each thrust in, Ezra grinds into you, bringing you back to your peak,

“Please don’t stop oh fuck pp- please!”

“Oh fuck I’m not baby I won’t stop. W- where do you want me kiddo? You want my cum in this tight little snatch honey? That what my little girl wants? Huh?” He starts thrusting into you faster.

Your eyes roll back as you moan like a bitch in heat.

“Yes! Yes Uncle Ezra oh fuck, please cum in me! Please!”

“There’s my good girl nngh oh oh fuck oh fuck”

Hearing his words and moans send you over the edge. Your cunt tightens around him as you cum making his thrusts stutter as he gets closer to his own finish.

The both of you stare deeply into each others eyes. Noses touching, chests heaving as you both come down from your high.

Ezra rolls off, laying down next you.

Holding his arm out to let you curl into his side.

He holds you close to him as he places a kiss on the top of your head,

“I really am sorry baby.”

Your so wore out, all you can do is wrap your arm around him and hold onto him as tight as you can as you squeeze your eyes shut.

No more words are exchanged, just the sound of your breathing as it starts to even out.

Drifting off to sleep you can’t help but wonder how you got here. The fact that this is your dads best friend. A guy you’ve always seen as an uncle. Who’s been a total creep since you’ve hit 18. Now here you are, craving him. Needing him. This isn’t gonna end well.

A/n: I just wanna apologize I know I suck at being consistent. It is what it is. Life’s been rough and I’ve been struggling with writing. But I hope you enjoy this, I love you! I love seeing everyone’s reactions! Please reblog, comment, send me asks, talk to me about my writing lol or about anything! I love to yap lol

#Ezra #uncle Ezra #uncle Ezra x you #pedro pascal #ezra prospect #ezra x reader #ezra x f!reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe

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myneodream · 24 hours

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So, it's the first time in years that I write something, the first time I do it in English, from DC AND on Tumblr, but this prompt didn't want to leave my head and I'm doing my finals, so I had to get this out somehow. Maybe I will make this into a fanfic later, but for now, my first prompt.

____________________________________________

Prompt Idea: DC x Beauty and the Beast

Jason walked back to his house, nodding absentmindedly at their words, as his focus was on the interlocked hands, their fingers intertwined with his clawed ones. The warm feeling from their conversation silencing the anxiety and self-consciousness about his cursed appearance, slowly starting to accept that they really don't mind it. It was not his fault, after years of people reacting with fear and disgust, it was easy to think they were faking it, their reaction so different from the rest, but Jason was tired of hoping. It was easy to just accept, no need to have expectations just to have them broken on his face, and, despite how many times it happened, it didn't stop hurting, no matter how good he became at not showing it.

The other option was not better than the usual reaction, he would even say it was worse. Jason preferred to be looked in fear and disgust by people he couldn't care less a million times than to receive the looks of pity from his family. Reason why he left the Manor so many years ago. Sometimes, he would fake not noticing how Bruce looked at him, seeing the ghost of a kid, of a Robin long gone, too lost in the past to really pay attention to the version in front of him. Jason doesn't blame him. He, too, would sometimes look in the mirror, missing his old reflection, when he was a boy, a person, and not the monster the mirror is showing these days. His clawed and furry hands were full of scars from how many times the beast that looked at him in the mirror received a punch, glass shards showering the ground, piercing his skin. Not that it mattered, the scars were the least of his problems regarding his appearance.

Then they came out of nowhere and stubbornly stayed at his side, insisting on knowing him despite everything, despite all the walls that Jason kept building, despite trying to push them away, there they are, considering him safe and, maybe, Jason was starting to believe it too.

They enter the house, their house, with them going towards the kitchen, talking about their plans for dinner and Jason notices how this became a habit, how it became so easy to interact with them, to share with them. To live with them. Maybe, there was hope. Maybe the curse could be broken. Maybe, they both could learn how to love each other. Maybe, he could be free.

But as he looks at the corner of the living room, he freezes, their voice being tuned out, his hope shattering. Time stops, only the sound of his heartbeat in his ears as he looks at his most hated place of the house. There, almost hidden by a pillar, was a small table, with a glass dome on it. Inside, a beautiful red rose, that Jason was certain was mocking him.

A lonely petal still on the flower, the last one, trembling, about to fall with all the others at the base of the dome.

It was too late.

#jason todd #jason x reader #batfam #beauty and the beast #red hood #dcu #batman #dc comics #dc universe #what if #instead of the pit madness #Jason got cursed instead?#Jason as the beast #reader as Beauty

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cherrymoon4 · 2 months

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Suguru hates the taste of curses. He hates the aftertaste that persists in his mouth, that doesn’t leave no matter how hard he brushes his teeth or how much sickening sweet candy Satoru gives him.

Even when hours pass, no matter how many boiling hot showers he takes, nothing takes away the disgusting feeling that swallowing down curse after curse brings.

He has tried everything, every single thing that comes to mind to not have the aftertaste of a vomit soaked rag stuck to him for hours.

But nothing works, he is sure of that, he reminds himself as he leans over the bathroom sink, trying not to throw up after another “successful” mission and another curse swallowed.

As he takes deep breaths, trying to come up with something, anything, that could help him, he hears a knock on the door, followed by your gentle voice asking if he’s okay.

He’s always seen you as one of his closest friends, the one that is there for when he feels like no one can help him; when he knows Shoko is too busy with her own shit, and Satoru could only try to come up with a joke and probably wouldn’t take him seriously, he knows that the one he can always turn to is you.

Soft, sweet little you. Too kind for your own good, with a heart too big for your petite form. So selfless, always worrying over ‘Sugu’ even when he doesn’t deserve it, even when he pushes you away, not wanting to stain your pure self.

Just like right now, as he contemplates whether to let you in or tell you to leave. He pictures your pretty face in his mind, how it probably is adorned with worry and concern, your doe eyes big and glassy.

His heart clenches at the thought of you walking away all sad after he told you to leave. He can’t bring himself to push you away.

So he tells you come in, he just wanted to reassure you after all. But when he sees you coming in and rushing to check him over for any injuries, clad in your fluffy pajamas and fuzzy socks, his mind fills with images of him doing everything but reassuring you.

And that’s how he discovers that there is, in fact, something that can help him out.

He knows that this is all he needs, your pretty cunt in his face is where he belongs.

Your plushy thighs around his head and your sweet juices smeared on his cheeks are just what he needs to forget everything about curses and the awful feeling that they leave him with.

He reprimands you for keeping your heavenly pussy from him all this time; how could you be so selfish :(

He laps at your folds like a starved man, moaning in your cunt like he’s the one getting eaten out. And he’s so messy too! After all, how could he not be when he finally found the perfect treat to solve his problem?

“Fuck sweetheart, you’re such a messy girl mh?” he grunts, like he’s not the one turning his head side to side to smear your juices all over his face.

“This pretty pussy loves me so much, doesn’t she? Gushin’ around my tongue like that, bet it wants me to fill her up too..” he says as he toys with your puffy pussy and swollen clit, looking up to see you all dumb and stupid, babbling something about how it’s “t-too much!”.

But you clearly don’t know what you need, not when your hole keeps getting wetter and wetter.

“It’s not too much, silly girl. You can take it, I know you can. You want your Sugu’ to be happy, don’t you baby? You wanna be my good girl, yeah?”

And how can you deny him? You do want to be his good girl, his best girl!

So you spread your legs wider for him and let him lap at your messy hole, and you don’t even complain when you feel his thick cock prodding at your entrance, stretching your pussy nice and full :3

hello ^^ ( thank you sososo much for the love on the other posts! send me requests if you want :P )

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diejager · 6 months

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hear me out tho. PervKönig with with thick thigh female reader who applies lotion on her thick thick thighs after a shower??

Lotion Cw: Pervy!König, lotion on thighs?, erotic fantasy, tell me if I missed any.

Fortunately - or unfortunately in some situation - he has self-control, able to hold himself back from re-enacting his fantasies or to push his needs onto you. The hunger that festered in the pit of his stomach, an unbearring heat at the apex of his thighs, beating with an erratic pulse and growing in restlessness. König has to push back the hanging reminder that he was hard, pressed against his sweatpants with a leaky tip.

He can only hope that you won’t catch the slight tent in his pants while his hands were busy, working the soft smelling lotion of your supple thighs. The pudgy fat of your thighs so tender under his callouses fingers, skin rolling if he pressed on it, lathering the white cream over your skin. You were so soft, so pliant and so loving, letting him inch his fingers closer to the edge of your shorts, tights and squeezing your upper thigh and your crotch.

He had to bite his cheek when you let out soft moans when he reached your inner thigh, folding your round skin and bending your knee to reach under your leg before he reached down. From the apex of your leg down to your ankle, his fingers twisting and curling around your toes, between and under. You curled your toes, giggling at the ticklish sensation of his fingers, it made him smile softly, scarred lips stretching thinly.

His eyes roamed over your glistening legs, the lotion making it gleam under the bathroom light, where he had his hands on. He bowed down, lips kissing your foot, tender and loving. He heard your surprised hum, but didn’t react to your sweet sound, his mouth trailing kisses up to your knee, eyes gazing into you own, cool eyes swirling with heat.

He loved how supple your thighs were, how soft and pliant it was, it drove him wild with need. He wanted to push you down on the couch right down the hallway, and fuck them, to rut his leaky cock between them. He wondered if you’d be disgusted if you knew your roommate wanted to paint your thighs white with cum, to massage your skin with his load rather than lotion, smelling salty and tasting tangy - smelling and tasting of him - after a shower.

König might have to add this fantasy to his bucket list, to act out when you fell asleep. He only hoped you wouldn’t mind.

Tag list: @hiraya1802 @tess0288 @elichisstuff @emodanoriddler @kenz-ee @bunnyclaire @akenosimp167 @death8match @yourliebling @allicsirp00 @cross-axis @hereforhotbitches @delulu4ghost @monster-in-paradise @nordicvsp @madi0987 @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @223princess

#tw: dubcon #Pervy!konig #Pervy!könig #Pervy!roommate!konig #konig x reader smut #konig x reader #konig mw2 #cod konig #cod könig #könig #könig x reader #könig mw2 #könig smut #cod mw2 smut #mw2 smut #x reader #cod mw2 x reader #yandere x reader #yandere

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simpjaes · 5 months

Text

FRENZY ៸៸៸ part one

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

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

៸៸៸ sim jake x afab reader

៸៸៸ minors dni

៸៸៸ wordcount: 33k (part two: 14.2k)

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

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

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

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

៸៸៸ nsfw tags under cut

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re practically inviting him.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sex toys.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then….you smile.

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

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

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

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, you glance away from him and speak.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

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

He picks up on it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s…delightfully warm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey!”

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

“Jake, Wait up!”

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

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

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

So naive. You do need protection.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your face falters.

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

“Ah, well, maybe.” Jake chuckles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The panties.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The way you immediately respond is telling.

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

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

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

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

Jake: hmmm what does that say about you then?

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

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

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

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

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

And yet, you’re busy today?

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

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

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

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

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

Jake: alright, be safe today...

You: always am!

Jake: text me when you make it home safe

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Spotted you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then he starts counting in his head.

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

“Jake?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think I feel safe enough for now.”

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

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

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

Jake nods to her.

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

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

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

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

Your mother nods.

“I can admit that he’s cute–”

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

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

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

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

You look down with internal confirmation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You: i made it home safe

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

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

You: it’s ok, i was happy to see you.

You: my mom seemed to like you

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

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

Jake: woah really? how so?

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

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

Jake: i was serious

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

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

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

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

You: you were?

Jake: yea, what are you doing rn?

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

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

So soft, so gentle.

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

You: bout to take a shower, why?

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

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

Jake: can i?

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

You: right now?

Jake: right now.

You: can you give me like twenty minutes?

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

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

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

Finally for him. For him. For him.

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

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

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

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

Yet, still, he manages.

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

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

You: okay, im ready!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God damn.

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

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

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

He’s struggling not to lose his mind.

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

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

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

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

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

He looks happy to be with you right now.

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

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

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

It doesn’t. But that’s what he’s for.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sigh, chuckling.

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

Jake pauses, glancing away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The dirt is cold, but Jake is warm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You think harder.

Much, much harder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiles.

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

You smile back.

“Likewise.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’ll be okay. This will pass.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you left.

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

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

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

One thought floods his mind.

Did you find out that he watches you?

Then another thought.

Are you hiding from him?

And one last thought.

How can he explain and still get you back?

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

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

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

You: are you mad at me?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You: i think we need to talk

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

Jake: of course, love

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

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

You: no

You: ill explain everything but can you like…

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

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

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

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

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

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

You: can you come now?

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

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

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

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

You can’t resist it.

You don’t want to resist it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Instantly you do, and instantly your face is hot.

Searing. On fire.

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

This is where he belongs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You like him, and he likes you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes stay on his.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You recoil internally.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shake your head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Somehow, you believe him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And oh.

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

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

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

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

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

And then he says it.

“Does this mean I can kiss you now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You are his. You have always been his.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, still blinking up at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re happy.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Every. single. day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jake: I’ll walk you there.

You smile at his immediate act of protection of you.

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

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

Jake: oh

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods confirmation.

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

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

You never could do it alone to begin with.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No one can get to you right now.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

Muttering that you want him to stay.

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

He didn’t sleep.

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

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

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

He’s more than delighted to–

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

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

He’s so quiet, so careful.

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

A text message.

From an unknown number.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rage.

Unknown number: so who is the new guy

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

Unknown number: i’ll be seeing you soon babe

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

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

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

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

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

Still, he gets it.

Who wouldn’t want you all to themself anyway?

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

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

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

Your photos.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re still not ready.

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

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

“Alright, baby.” He pouts again.

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

“Then when?”

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

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

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

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

part two

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

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

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ellecdc · 2 months

Note

PART 2 PLSSSSSSSSSSS

I need the comfort

ok ok ok ok ok mother's here - I've fixed it for you. Don't say I never did anything for ya 😉

part two of Mistake: poly!wolfstar x fem!reader

CW: angst, hurt and COMFORT read part one here

Remus felt like he’d just been slapped. In fact, he was sure that if he looked in a mirror, he would see a red welt in the shape of your hand across his cheek.

Lupin?

You haven’t called him that since...well since you started dating. As a matter of fact, he can’t remember the last time you referred to him in any way other than some sickly-sweet pet name that he pretended embarrassed him, but he secretly preened at.

I’ll see you around.

What the hell did that mean? What just happened?

He felt stuck...perhaps he should go after you? But you told him to go check on Sirius: make sure he’s okay for me, yeah? And he meant what he had said – the three of you would be back to normal in no time. They’d catch up with you tomorrow.

Remus tried to replay every interaction you had tonight. You had asked how their days were...he replied and asked how yours was. Should he have asked you first?

He should have asked you first.

You tried making conversation, but Remus was so hyper focused on Sirius’ mood – afraid that he’d do or say something out of pocket that would hurt your feelings – that each attempt sort of fell flat. Remus had been there before – he’s witnessed Sirius’ tendency to self-sabotage and ruin a good thing once he finally has it, and he didn’t want that to happen again. Not with you.

He knew what Sirius really needed was some quiet; a chance to ponder and lament angrily inside his own head without outside influence.

Maybe they should have cancelled – rescheduled your study date for another time. Clearly his effort to protect you from any negativity was in vain.

But it was just a bad day, a blip, a one-off. You would all get some good sleep tonight and reconvene tomorrow.

Right?

Maybe he should have followed you.

But by the time he could manage to pry his feet from the floor of the library that he felt cemented to, you were gone.

He would just have to talk it out with you tomorrow.

Remus entered his dorm to find Peter already asleep on his bed, James finishing the Transfiguration essay that was due tomorrow morning on his own bed, and both Remus and Sirius’ beds empty.

“Pads around?” Remus asked James quietly as he began to shuck off his uniform. The quiet tone was mostly for courtesy’s sake knowing Peter could sleep through a stampede of hippogriffs.

James peered at Remus from above his glasses before nodding his head towards the bathroom door.

Sure enough, Remus found Sirius leaning against the shower stall with his eyes closed as the water cascaded around his form.

“You almost done, love?” Remus asked gently. Sirius spooked slightly as he turned to look at Remus; his eyes were red and glossy...he had been crying.

“You didn’t stay with her?”

Remus fought the urge to grimace, to heave, to turn around and run. He opted to gently shake his head. “No, she... said she got most of what she needed to do done.”

Sirius seemed to consider that as he sighed. “Was she terribly upset? I didn’t...I didn’t mean to be an ass. I know James always says I’m quick to take it out on others – I tried really hard not to, honest. I swear it, Rem I-”

Remus began shaking his head as he moved towards Sirius. He could tell by the smell in the bathroom that Sirius had already washed his hair and there were no more suds on his body, so he turned the water off and handed Sirius a towel.

“You were fine, Sirius. She’s – she’s fine.” He lied.

He lied. He lied to Sirius. About you.

But how could he look Sirius in the eye right now – Sirius who was currently standing naked, soaking wet, nearly hyperventilating, not over his disgusting parents but because he was afraid that he may have upset you – and tell him that between the maybe seven minutes since Sirius had left the library and now, Remus had completely mucked it all up?

The answer was: he couldn’t. He couldn’t look Sirius in the eye and admit that he may have just sabotaged your relationship.

It’s going to be fine. He tried to tell himself. We’ll fix this all tomorrow.

You felt beyond childish, hiding in your dorm room like some toddler throwing a temper tantrum. But you had decided last night that what you really needed was space. Some breathing room. A chance to see this from a different lens. A different perspective.

And you couldn’t do that when your heart was breaking. And being around Remus and Sirius felt like that right now.

It felt heart breaking.

And perhaps that was your answer right there. If this was causing you heart ache, why were you doing it to yourself? To them? You didn’t deserve that, and neither did they.

But it wasn’t just this you were worried about. It was more than just this relationship – it was the friendship that preceded it. It was the meshing of you into their circle of friends. You were their friend long before you were ever their girlfriend. You wouldn’t just be losing Remus and Sirius: your boyfriend’s; you’d also be losing Remus and Sirius: your friend’s.

Maybe you should have thought about that before you said yes.

Suddenly, you were a little angry: they had asked you to be their girlfriend – not the other way around! Why would they put you through all of this for, what? For...

Was it really for nothing?

“Are you coming to breakfast?” Shelby asked you quietly from the door. You shifted your head on the pillow to make eye contact with her. “No, I’ve got some things to work on. I think I’ll hang out up here today.”

She seemed to consider you, eyes squinting and mouth pursing before she offered a curt nod. “I’ll bring something back for you then.”

You smiled gratefully at her. At least you knew if you did lose Remus and Sirius, you would still have friends who cared about you.

Sirius spent most of his life believing he’d never be worthy of nice things. He was raised by monsters which meant he was a product of monsters; he was basically a monster.

He knew that the Black Darkness was always simmering just below the surface. It was archetypal of Black’s to explode; to lace their words with venom and strike at their victim, always aiming for the jugular. It had been Sirius’ own M.O. for his whole life. He had nearly lost everyone who ever meant anything to him on account of it. He had almost lost Moony.

Which is why it was so important to him that you never end up the latest victim of his Black Darkness. He was so afraid of disappointing you, letting you down, making you feel unloved. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to live with himself if he slipped – if he said something or did something to make you hate him.

And it wasn’t just you he was worried about hurting; he knew if he hurt you, Remus would likely never forgive him.

Remus may have forgiven Sirius for his Darkness once; he didn’t want to risk trying for a second time. Sirius felt he’d hit his threshold for forgiveness – one more sin and he’d be on his own, surely.

So, he walked away. He tried to do it nicely – to excuse himself politely, assure you he’d be back in no time.

But he still left.

It was cowardly.

He needed to talk to you.

Which is why Sirius could be found that morning sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, knee bouncing frantically under the table and his body turned towards the entrance – waiting for you to make an appearance.

Except, you never came.

“Wait, Shelby just walked in without her. Where is she?” He asked despondently, turning towards Remus.

Remus watched as Shelby and a few of your other friends sat at their usual places without you. “Come on.” He said quickly as the two of them stood and made their way over.

“Hey Shelby. Do you know where Y/N is?” Remus asked quietly, hoping his guilt didn’t permeate his tone. Unfortunately, under Shelby’s scrutinizing glance, he was sure he had been found out.

“She’s in the dorm.” She said flatly, looking between the two boys.

Sirius exchanged a glance with Remus before continuing. “Erm, do you...do you know why?”

Shelby furrowed her brows “all she said was she had ‘some things to work on’ and that she’d be in the room today.”

Remus hissed under his breath and pulled Sirius aside.

“Pads, I’m sorry, but I think-”

“What is going on?” Sirius interrupted.

“Last night, I... I think Y/N was upset?”

“Upset? With me?” Sirius asked, shame worming its way through every cell in his body.

“I don’t know. I... I don’t think so. But she...she said she’d ‘see me around’ and then called me Lupin.”

All blood drained from Sirius’ face as he considered Remus’ words.

See him around...see him around!? What the hell did that mean? Did you not plan on seeing them again? Oh gods...you never planned on seeing them again.

“Rem...” Sirius breathed out, leaning against a pillar for support.

“I know, I don’t-”

“Good grief, what’s gotten into you two?” James commented as he walked into the Great Hall with Lily, who opted to carry on in her search for Regulus as James took in the state of his two friends.

“Well? What’s got you in such a twist?” He pressed when neither boy offered an explanation.

“It’s Y/N.” Remus admitted.

“She’s leaving us.” Sirius blurted.

“Okay, we don’t know that.” Remus conceded.

Sirius scoffed. “Well, she basically told you to go fuck yourself last night and now she’s avoiding us; what do you call that?”

“She didn’t tell me to go fuck myself!”

James groaned and rolled his eyes before grabbing Remus and Sirius’ shirts and dragging them over to the Slytherin table.

“That’s it. You guys need to talk to Regulus.” James muttered.

“Regulus?!” Sirius sputtered, looking at James incredulously. “I’m not asking my baby brother for relationship advice.”

“You’re not asking for relationship advice. You’re asking for his perspective on his own relationship.”

“Ew! That’s worse! I don’t want to hear about my baby brother’s relationship with my adoptive brother.”

“Oh for- you are going to listen to Regulus’ perspective on what it’s like being added to a polyamorous relationship last.” James pressed, tone implying no nonsense.

Sirius (unwillingly) and Remus (placidly) were dragged to the dark side (read: the Slytherin table) to be read their Miranda Rights have their asses handed to them by one Regulus Arcturus Black.

“Reg, dear. I’m begging, pleading, on my hands and knees: put the poor sods out of their misery.” James said as he bodily sat Remus and Sirius on the bench across from Regulus.

Lily snickered and poked her nose into Regulus’ cheek, causing the youngest Black to blush, though the rest of his face remained stoic as he sized Sirius and Remus up.

“What have the two of you done now?” He drawled. “I can’t help but notice one third – arguably the better third - of your little trio is missing.”

Sirius scoffed, though he didn’t argue – Regulus wasn’t wrong per se; he loved Moony, but you were indeed the best of the bunch.

James cleared his throat pointedly as he shot Remus and Sirius a look.

“Right, er” Remus started awkwardly. “We seem to have, uhm. I mean to say that-”

“Why does Y/N hate us?” Sirius spat, slapping a hand over his mouth immediately afterwards as if those words had fallen from his mouth without his consent.

“Y/N? As in your girlfriend, Y/N?” Regulus asked, moving his eyes between his brother and his brother’s boyfriend.

“Yes, as in our girlfriend.” Remus muttered.

“What did you say to offend her?” James asked unhelpfully.

“Do you think if we knew that, we’d be here right now?” Sirius spat back.

“No, I don’t think that.” Regulus answered for him. “What I think has probably happened is she’s feeling terribly insecure in your relationship and neither of you have done anything to help her.”

Well that shut Sirius up... Sirius noticed that Remus was pretty quiet too.

“Were...” Sirius asked, grimacing when he looked over at Lily and James knowing this was teetering slightly into the realm of things-he-doesn’t-really-want-to-know-about-his-brother’s-relationship-with-his-best-friend territory. But damnit, Sirius was as desperate man. And desperate times called for desperate measures. “Were you terribly insecure when you started dating...these two?” Sirius sneered the end of his sentence earning him a ‘hey!’ from Lily and a solid whack up the back of the head from James.

“Yes.” Regulus answered simply.

“Why?” Remus asked, looking desperately close to pulling out his notebook to take notes. Scratch that, Sirius watched as James swallowed a teasing remark when Remus actually pulled out a notebook to take notes.

“It’s hard coming after. There’s a part of your brain that convinces you that you are second best; that you’ve somehow come in second place. If that’s not bad enough, then you begin spending time with two people who already have history, already have a connection, and already have a rhythm that doesn’t leave much room to pull you into the mix. And if it does pull you into the mix, you end up feeling terribly guilty for disrupting that rhythm. It’s all quite difficult.”

Sirius’ mouth hung open at Regulus’ demure tone on what sounded like a really heartbreaking situation.

“Let me ask you this,” Regulus continued, unawares of Sirius’ inner dialogue (which consisted mostly of panicked ‘oh my gods oh my gods oh my gods oh my gods). “How has your relationship – between the two of you – changed since you added a third?”

Remus and Sirius exchanged a glance before looking back at Regulus. “Uhm...not, really?”

“Not much at all.” Remus admitted more clearly.

“I see...” Regulus said, narrowing his gaze. “And how much time have each of you spent with her individually without the other present?”

Regulus got his answer in the form of awkward silence.

“How did either of you expect your relationship to work if neither of you were willing to change the nature of yours in order to help it grow?” Regulus spat.

“Well...” Remus started, but his sentence died when he realized there was nothing to say.

“But...you stayed? Why?” Sirius asked his brother.

At this, Regulus’s face fell as he gave Sirius a sad smile. “Because of how we were raised, Sirius. I was so excited to be wanted, even for a moment, that I was willing to beg for scraps of whatever I could sink my claws into. She doesn’t strike me as that kind of girl.”

James and Lily looked forlorn as the latter placed her hand on Regulus’ shoulder consolingly.

“It didn’t hurt to have the walking definition of unconditional love and the smartest, most intuitive witch I know to notice any discontent on my part.” He admitted shyly, earning him a smack of a kiss on the cheek from James.

“Gross. You guys are sickening.” Sirius muttered petulantly.

“So?” Lily interrupted what was close to becoming a squabble between the two Black brothers. “What are you guys going to do?”

Remus sported a determined expression as he looked to Sirius. “We’re going to make it right.”

Shelby stood by her word and brought your breakfast. She also brought you lunch, and then dinner. But by the following morning, she was tired of playing the role of house elf.

“Alright, are you going to tell me why you’re avoiding Lupin and Black?” She asked plainly, plopping herself down uninvited onto your bed.

“Wha-? I’m ... I’m not avoiding them.” You lied poorly.

“Please; don’t spit on my muffin and call it frosting, Y/N. You’re obviously avoiding them.”

“I...ew?”

She groaned and fell onto her back in defeat. “Please, for all that is holy, tell me why they’ve been following me around like kicked puppies hoping I’ll take them to their master?”

You rolled your eyes and turned back to your book that you held open but had never been reading. “Yeah, I’m sure they’re real upset.” You muttered.

“That’s it.” She spat and plucked your book out of your hands, throwing it over her shoulder unceremoniously. You cringed to think about how Remus would feel seeing a book treated in such a way.

“I was reading that!”

“Don’t lie to me again.” She said, levelling you with a ‘no nonsense’ look. “Spill.”

You sighed deeply, looking toward the window to try and find the words you’d spent the last 24 hours trying to formulate. She never rushed you for your answer, giving you all the time you needed.

“I feel insignificant.” You admitted finally.

“And?”

You turned to face her, bemusement painting your features. “What do you mean, and?”

“And... have you spoken to them about it?”

You felt a little embarrassed to admit that no, you hadn’t.

“Why not?”

And that simple question seemed to set off all the emotions (mostly frustration) that simmered beneath your surface.

“Because Shelby. Because I don’t want to have to beg for love and affection. I don’t want to have to tell people how to love me; they should just already love me. I don’t want to feel like I’m intruding in someone else’s relationship. I don’t want to have to point out that I’m here and I’m hurting. It’s mortifying. I... I think I’m just done.”

Shelby nodded in understanding before she stood from your bed. “Then you need to finish this today. No more hiding in your room being angry by yourself, and no more letting them sniff around the castle like dejected little runts. Put all three of you out of your misery.”

It was your turn to nod as you too stood from your bed, ready to face possibly one of the most heartbreaking days of your life.

But Shelby was right; it was time.

The worst part was that Shelby had been telling the truth; Remus and Sirius did look like kicked puppies.

The second you had entered the Great Hall you heard a crash of knees against benches and cutlery clashing as Sirius clumsily tried to vacate his seat in record time to make it over to you.

“Y/N!” He called, as if you could have missed the racket he made just prior.

He looked gaunt – like he hadn’t eaten or slept enough (in the only less than 48 hours) since you’d seen him last. His eyes were red and a little swollen, like he’d been rubbing at them.

You immediately felt sick with guilt; if he really was struggling with things with his family, the last thing you wanted was to add to his stress. But Sirius was looking after himself, and Remus was looking after him too; someone needed to think about you. You had to look after yourself.

Remus didn’t look much better, approaching the two of you much more slowly, hardly making eye contact with you as if you’d lash out at any moment. You had to admit that it annoyed you a little bit.

“Hi Sirius.” You offered, voice grating over the sudden tightness. “Remus.”

Some of the tension seemed to leave Remus’ shoulders as he made an effort to make eye contact with you.

“Can we talk?” He asked timidly.

You knew what was coming, what was happening, what you yourself had come here planning to do.

But it broke your heart nonetheless.

“Sure.” You whispered, and exited the Great Hall without waiting to see if they were following you.

You walked into an empty classroom and leaned against one of the walls as Remus and Sirius closed the door behind them. They shared another look and stood opposite of you.

More secret conversations. You thought bitterly. And doesn’t this just paint a lovely picture; them versus you.

“Y/N. We, uhm...we’ve been talking, and we realized that...that maybe we haven’t gone about this the right way.” Sirius started, looking at Remus continuously as he addressed you.

We’ve made a terrible mistake.

“We didn’t take into account the ways in which our relationship would have to change in order to make the three of us work” Remus added.

We didn’t realize how much you’d take away from us, you heard

“We feel like we’ve been unfair to you, and... we’re really sorry.” Sirius concluded, looking like his heart had been ripped out of his rib cage. You supposed that would make sense, considering that’s how you currently felt yourself.

It probably hurt all the same to them – they’d be losing the friendships the three of you had created too; the friendship you had with Remus, the friendship you had with Sirius, and the fun the three of you had all together. But you still loved them, and the last thing you wanted to do was to interfere in their relationship.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.” You admitted finally. “It was just a mistake.”

Remus’ head cocked to the side like a confused puppy whilst Sirius’ eyebrows furrowed. “Well...I, I’m not sure-” Remus started but was cut off by Sirius.

“Wait, Y/N, what exactly do you think the mistake was?”

You looked between the two of them as you lifted your shoulder. “I... I guess including me?” You stated as a question.

Sirius actually sputtered as Remus stepped towards you, stopping himself seemingly before he made to grab you.

“No! No, Dove. That’s not a mistake!” He insisted.

“Are you kidding? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to us – no, no. This...wow, okay. Can we start from the beginning, please? Why do you think this was a mistake?” Sirius managed to (barely) get out.

You looked to the ceiling, eyes stinging at the reality of having to voice your hurt. “Because” your voice came out embarrassingly high. “Because it-it felt...better when we were friends. I didn’t feel...in the way. And it felt easier. Just - I didn’t mean to come in between you, and I never...” you cut yourself off, quickly moving into hyperventilating territory.

“But-”

“It’s not a mistake!” Sirius shouted, cutting Remus off. “This wasn’t a mistake! You weren’t a mistake. I... okay. I didn’t mean to fall in love with you, that’s true. But I don’t consider that a mistake. Not you, never you.”

“It was a surprise; a happy accident.” Remus added hopefully shy.

You felt drunk...dizzy...beyond confused. Weren’t they breaking up with you? Weren’t you supposed to be breaking up with them!?

“I think it was easier when we were friends because we weren’t putting so much pressure on ourselves to get this right.” Sirius explained.

Remus nodded and continued. “Sirius used to get so jealous if I got to hang out with you without him if he was at practice – took us a while to figure out that it was because he wished he was the one hanging out with you. When we started dating, I guess Sirius and I figured we’d just make sure to always hangout with you together so that neither of us felt left out. But we never even thought about how that must’ve been making you feel, dove. I’m so sorry.”

“Regulus read us our rights.” Sirius admitted abashedly. “He pointed out that the relationship between the three of us will only work if our relationships with each other are strong. And we didn’t make our individual relationships with you a priority – that was our mistake, Y/N. Not you.”

“Our mistake was believing you would just ‘catch up’ to where we are – which is years in the making – and also expecting you to somehow do that on your own. It was selfish and thoughtless.” Remus stressed

The things they were saying made sense and spoke to your very soul, but you couldn’t shake off this lingering feeling of dread.

“I... I should have said something... about how I was feeling.”

Sirius sighed, but it was Remus who spoke. “I think all of us could have done a better job communicating, that’s true. But we should have been more considerate. We asked you to join us, dove; we should have made that easy for you to do.”

“To think how much grief we’ve caused ourselves, when we could have just solved this all with a conversation.” Sirius mumbled dejectedly.

“We’re not too late, are we? To solve this?” Remus asked quietly. Sirius’ eyes looked like they were close to popping out of his skull as he stood and made for you, grabbing your hands pleadingly.

“Oh gods, Y/N. You... you were breaking up with us, weren’t you? You thought we were breaking up with you?” His voice sounded very close to a sob.

“Please...please dove I- I don’t know that we deserve it, but please give us a chance to make this right, to do this properly. Give us a chance to love you the way you deserve.” Remus begged, moving to stand in front of you with Sirius, though he controlled his urge to grab your hands.

You looked between the two boys; the two boys who you’ve been basically in love with for so long – the two boys who have proclaimed to feel the same way about you - and wondered to yourself again:

Have we made a terrible mistake?

Remus’ golden eyes shimmered with compassion and warmth, and Sirius burned fiercely in devotion and promises.

Had you made a mistake? Falling in love with them?

No.

Perhaps Remus was right. Perhaps this was a happy accident.

“Okay.” You whispered. Remus exhaled the breath he’d been holding while Sirius’ face morphed into a small, hopeful kind of smile – far shyer than you were used to seeing from the boy.

“Okay?” He asked, moving his hands up from your wrists to your shoulders.

“Yeah... I-I don’t want to lose you guys.” You admitted wetly, a tear betraying you as it fell down your cheek. Sirius was quick to catch it with his thumb.

“Never, dove. Not if I can help it.” Remus promised.

You believed him.

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localkiss · 2 months

Text

Heavenly sin

virgin pastor's son!leon kennedy x virgin fem!reader

cw: guilt!! p in v, porn watching (has some "intense" sex ig??), needy sex, virginity loss, creampies, thinking about god during sex, humping (dry at one point), oral (f receiving), awkwardness, CHECK-INS!!!, dirty talk, begging, soft ish dom!leon, pet names, mentions of daddy kink but only once, pregnancy mentioned a couple times, Leon's a sweetheart, goofy ending, rough ish treatment only once, confessions!!

wc: 6k...🧍🏻‍♀️

note: barely proof read and I don't know shit about church or anything like that... Lmk if I missed any tags! Also inspired by @moolvn's bot!

@valkyrurr @rigorwhoring @marymustdie @tatumrileyslover @frostywintersnow @queenofstresss haii yall ! :3

It's around 10 in the morning, and you're dressed in a flowy black dress with flower patterns on it. Perfect for church and for this wonderful spring weather. Pulling your hair back into a low ponytail, you get out of your parents car. They have already gone inside the church.

Walking briskly to the entrance, you take note of the flowers that are planted on each side that're beginning to bloom in the glowy sunlight. You make it in time to sit next to your parents before the prayer begins.

You bow your head and begin to listen to it. Soft shuffling is heard, and then there's a warmth on your right side, as if a heater were turned on.

Peaking out of your right eye, you see the pastor's son, Leon. Dressed in dark wash jeans and a white button up. He tilts his head towards you and smiles, mouthing, "Hello."

You smile and shake your head, closing your eyes to listen in on his father recite a prayer, so that the Holy Spirit will help us all understand God's words.

Despite trying to listen to him preach, your mind wanders off to the boy next to you. How his muscles ripple underneath his shirts. (which are always fitting for him. Like how?) And the way his beautiful oceanic eyes shine with purity. Especially when he's preaching about how God is constantly saving and bettering him and how important he truly is in his life. The way his brown hair flows in the wind and how it falls into his eye whenever he looks down.

It's all beautiful to you. You'd rather worship Leon than God. Would it be a sin to worship man instead of the Lord? Probably.

Every time you spoke with Leon, you felt dirty. You were filled with these disgusting, sinful feelings. You were afraid of it rubbing off on him and getting into trouble. Getting called the devil. Shunned and kicked out of the house for having feelings you didn't know how to fucking handle.

After all, you were only human. One with needs, thoughts, feelings, and insatiable cravings for a certain man beside you.

Once the pastor stops the prayer, everything else goes by quickly. You try not to stare at Leon while his father is reading aloud hymns. But it's impossible.

He catches your eye and flashes you a boyish smile. You look away. It's quite embarrassing to have been caught staring at him. You couldn't help it.

A couple hours later, the service ends. You get up and stretch your limbs, ready to leave.

A large hand grabs onto your forearm. Warmth surges through your veins, all the way up to your midsection.

Turning your head, you see that it's Leon.

He lets go of you with a smile. "Are you busy today? I was wondering if you'd like to come over."

Biting your lip, you think for a moment. Looking over at your parents, they give you a nod of approval.

"I'm free. I can come over today."

Both of you walk towards the exit, and he opens the door like a gentleman. You mutter a small "thank you" and step outside.

The cool, light breeze washes over your body like a cold shower. It feels refreshing after being in a stuffy room for more than an hour. Breathing it in and letting it out, you turn towards Leon.

He squints at you with a small smile, motioning to follow him. You oblige, putting your hands on the bottom of your dress and bunching up the fabric so that it doesn't fly up.

By the time you guys make it to his house, your feet are dying in the black flats you're wearing. Rubbed raw on your heels by your pinky and big toes.

You sigh in relief as you enter his house, slipping your shoes off by the door.

The both of you walk into the kitchen and grab a cup of water. Heading upstairs to his room. You try to push down the nerves and excitement bubbling in your guts, but it's so hard.

All you guys ever do is read, listen to the radio, and talk about your guys's jobs. Not all exciting, but laying in his bed and being so close to him is what gets your panties soaked. Maybe you are the devil's spawn. Getting aroused by just being in Leon's vicinity. It's bad. Real bad.

He opens his door and walks in, laying down on his plush queen-sized bed. His hair falls to the sides of his face as he closes his eyes. Breathing in deeply and then exhaling slowly.

You sit on the bed, eyeing him up while his eyes are closed. Noticing the way his veins on his hands are popping out, the small little freckles that paint his face and neck, and the way his lips look so velvety.

Wondering what it would feel like between your legs, your calves, and your neck. You shouldn't be thinking about him like this. It's wrong. But it feels so right.

"So, uh, what are we going to do?" You mutter quietly, tearing your gaze away from the white man beside you.

"I thought that we could just hang out."

"Okay." You scratch your head for a moment, looking at one of the posters on his wall. It's a poster for The Legend of Zelda, Ocarina of Time. It's probably one of the only games his parents approve of.

"Actually, hold on." He sits up slowly and begins to walk towards his desk, fishing something out. He holds up a CD with a grin. "I found this lying around on the bookstore floor. I thought that we could check it out."

Motioning with a nod of his head towards his computer. The thick monitor has the circular silver Dell logo on it at the bottom. Paired with his grey and black mouse.

Popping it into his PC as it whirrs on, you snatch his swiveling chair, making him sit on the uncomfortable wooden chair next to it. Maybe you should get a new best friend, thinking about how you come over so much that he has gotten another chair just in case you guys get on his computer.

You take over and open the Windows Media Player, then double-click on the CD's name. Spice it up in the bedroom! What an odd name.

Turning up the volume on his mini speakers that're alongside his monitor as you wait for the media to load.

A woman and a man appear in the frame, with a messy bed behind them. She's hardly wearing any clothing, only her undergarments and stockings are on her figure. Meanwhile, the man is only dressed in his briefs.

You feel your cheeks burn red hot, swallowing thickly at the video. Afraid of what's going to happen next and afraid of looking at Leon after this surprise of a CD, you continue to look straight ahead.

They don't even introduce themselves, but they say one thing: "Here's how to spice things up in the bedroom. Watch and learn."

Shifting in the cushiony chair, you unconsciously grab onto the armrests.

The next part shows the woman lying down with her legs spread open. The man walks into the frame and sits on the floor next to the end of the bed. Putting his face in between her legs, he kisses her thighs. Trailing up to the bend of her knees and then to her ankles. Repeating the same for her other leg.

Then he begins to leave small bite marks and bruises on her inner thighs. With each of them, her hips jump, and small moans leave her lips.

You squeeze your thighs together, feeling your most sacred parts ache with need. Hoping Leon doesn't notice it.

But he did, just didn't want to point it out and embarrass the both of you even more than you guys already are. He's always staring at you subtly. He's not doing any better on his end, cock filling out in his jeans, begging to be freed from its confinement.

He's just thinking about the kind of noises you'd make if he kissed you there. But he shouldn't think about that. His heart sinks into his stomach, feeling guilty for even having those sorts of thoughts about you from time to time. He wanted to baptize himself again and again until those thoughts clouded him no more.

Leon always had to shower in cold water to make all of the pent-up need go away from his dick. He was afraid to touch himself. Especially to the thought of you. He thought you didn't deserve to be sexualized. How wrong it is to even imagine your lips on his! How soft and plush you'd be against his body.

Feeling like the devil has made its way into both of your bodies. Lust coats both of your frontal lobes, coaxing you into continuing to watch this sinful CD.

The man begins to lick and kiss her panties which makes her noises grow louder and breathier. You hope to God that his parents don't come home anytime soon.

He slips her panties off, and her precious parts are exposed to the camera. Leon makes a small gasping sound, and you snap your head towards him.

"Leon, I.. I don't know if we should watch this. This is... wrong. I feel dirty, Leon." You search his eyes, hoping he'll agree, but he just blinks slowly at you.

"I-I think we should continue. Don't act like this doesn't pique your interest," he mutters back. His eyes are slowly beginning to darken.

Turning your focus on the screen, you hear him noisily slurping away between her thighs. The woman begins to get louder, and her fingers slot through his hair and pull him closer.

She yells out, "I'm cumming!" And soon her legs squeezed shut on his head, her body convulsing and lunging forward to curl in on itself.

"Fuck baby, that was so hot," He comes up and kisses her, grabbing a fistful of her hair and flipping her over onto her stomach. Fumbling with his black briefs, tugging them down and stepping out of them.

You squirm uncomfortably, not sure if you can handle seeing a random man naked. But you gulp down the bile crawling up your throat, mixed in with sickening guilt.

His cock stands up to attention, the tip as red as a tomato. A patch of hair surrounds it, leading down between his legs. He strokes it a couple of times, lolling his head back with a loud groan.

"You ready, slut?" Tapping himself against her folds.

"Y-Yes sir, I'm ready." The woman frantically nods and pushes up on her elbows, watching him sink into her hole.

He grips her hair as soon as he's fully sheathed inside, pulling her towards him. Making her see how they're connected. You bite your lip as you watch this couple go at it for about five minutes. Watching them change positions and get louder and louder with each minute that passes by.

He puts his hand on her throat and slaps her face, breasts, ass, and privates. It all makes you feel fuzzy inside, like you drank too much alcohol. The world is slowly starting to spin, with all thoughts going straight down between your thighs.

But the way he talks to her is what really gets you.

"You like that slut? Fuckin' taking daddy's cock so well, fuck."

"Good girl. I know you can take it."

"Yeah, cum on me, baby, squeeze this fat dick."

"Stupid fucking whore, practically crying for me to creampie this tight little pussy. Isn't that right, baby? God, you know you want my cum stuffed in you."

Her punched-out moans—the way she's clawing at the bed and sometimes at him—is what gets Leon excited. The way she can't even say anything remotely coherent to the man gets him so hard, it fucking hurts. Leon's boxers are practically stuck to his cock.

Leon's hand drifts towards his groin, shifting it so it doesn't press against the zipper of his jeans. He lets out a soft hiss, putting a hand to his mouth as he slumps back against the wooden chair. Leaning onto the left armrest.

Your ears pick up on Leon's strained noise, and you pull your knees up to your chest, breathing heavily between them. It's almost over, you think to yourself. Just a couple more minutes, and we can do something else. Forget about this, and maybe read the Bible to cleanse our minds.

The guy on the screen pulls her up so her back is flushed against his chest, his arm wrapped around her throat to keep her there. Her body is shaking uncontrollably, and he groans deeply, thrusting a couple more times before he comes to a halt.

"Fuck, baby girl, fuck. Take it. Mmhh, I want to get you pregnant so bad. Gonna suck on those fat tits until they're squirting milk into my mouth. I'm gonna love seeing you so swollen and full of my seed. God damn."

That's it. He pulls out of her, and you can vaguely see a white liquid pooling out of her and onto the bed. Her body is so red and bruised. It makes you take a deep breath.

By clicking out of it, you eject the disk and put it on the desk. Quickly shutting down his PC.

Both of you sit there in silence for a little while. Afraid to look at one another.

The air is so thick and hot, as if someone turned a heater on. It would make sense, as both of you have red faces and sweaty palms.

Leon's the first one to clear his throat and shift in his seat. "So, um. What did we watch?"

"For heavens sake, we just watched two people make love, Leon!" You whisper-yell at him, looking directly into his eyes.

He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth and looks to the side, clearly embarrassed. "Right."

You get up and flop onto his bed, face first. The coolness of his sheets is washing over you like an ice pack.

Leon sits next to you, practically burning his gaze on your thighs. Lost in thought of the possibility of doing something like what you both saw just mere moments ago. His hips are bucking upwards, seeking relief. Looking like a damn fool for humping the air.

"Do you think that felt good? Would God like...allow them to seek pleasure like that?" You mumble into the bed.

"I think so, but I don't know if God would be happy if they were to continue..without repenting for their sins and asking for forgiveness."

Yeah, you figured he would respond like that.

"I feel gross, Leon."

"Me too."

You turn on your side and look him up and down slowly. "Are you... aroused?"

Leon gulps and tilts down to meet your gaze with a small nod.

"Me too." Your voice is soft and hushed. Rubbing your thighs together for some relief.

At this point, you don't even care. God this. God that. Those women at the church don't seem to care when they get pregnant. They just pray and repent for their sins and move on with their day like nothing happened. So, God doesn't fucking care if you have intercourse or not. So long as you ask for forgiveness.

His baby blues drop to your lips and back up, licking his own lips. Then, he leans down and boxes you between his firm body and the plush bed.

Your breath catches in your throat as you feel him tremble above you. Heart thumping wildly in your ears, wondering if he can hear it too.

Unconsciously, your legs spread open to accommodate his hips. He shifts his weight nervously, his groin settling on top of yours.

Both of you moan and buck your hips towards one another, wanting more. Becoming insatiable beasts filled only with lust and need. Logic? God? Who needs that when you have horniness on the brain?

Leon groans and buries his face in your neck, panting hotly against your skin as he begins to dry hump you. "Please... It-It hurts. I'm sorry." He stops himself from rambling on, nosing up to your earlobe.

"Leon, it feels really good. Don't—don't stop, please."

His hips stutter, and he lets out a soft whimper, touching his forehead to yours. "May I... may I do what the video showed, to you?"

"Yes," you say as you connect your lips to his, tangling your hands into his thick locks of brown hair. Lightly pulling on it, earning you a groan into your mouth and a thrust against your clothed mound.

Tongues uniting sloppily, moans spewing out, and desire floating in the air. A perfect recipe for disaster.

He sits up on his knees, his eyes blown out, his lips red and glossy with spit. How can he get even prettier? It's not fair. It really isn't. God really gave him the best of the best, honestly.

Leon quickly made work of his button-up, throwing it across the room. His wife beater is the only article of clothing shielding you from seeing his chest and abdomen. What a shame. Though you do see a small silver chain, most likely it is his cross that he always wears, no matter what.

Breathing out of his mouth like his nose is fucking clogged, he hesitantly reaches up to the hem of your dress. "May I?" He whispers, pushing it up to where your shorts stop at your waist.

You nod, your hips lifting up to help him get rid of your dress. It soon hits the floor next to his shirt. Immediately feeling embarrassed, you cover your black bra with your hands.

Leon just stares in awe, his hands slowly trailing up your sides and tracing every contour and bend in your body.

"So beautiful," he mumbles. His thumb feels nice and is also ticklish where the sun doesn't see your body. He carefully removes your arms away from your bosom, kissing the inner parts of your wrists and making eye contact with you for the entirety of this undressing.

You gasp as he kisses down to your clavicles, making sure to take his time mapping out your figure with his lips now. Dipping down to your cleavage, his hands grab ahold of your waist, thumbs rubbing against the wire of your bra.

Leon presses his lips across your entire chest, making your skin buzz and your soul leave your body.

Never in your life would you have imagined Leon doing this to you in his own bed.

He fumbles with pulling your cups down, trying to get rid of the bra. "Can you, um.. take this off?"

You lean forward and unclip it, letting it fall forward into your lap. Getting your arms out of the straps, you are now topless in front of him. Topless in front of someone for the first time ever.

God is getting ready to punish the both of you for sinning, and you know it. Closing your eyes tightly for a few moments as you try to battle with continuing or just leaving Leon to deal with his own battle. That would be just mean. And if you were going to sin, why not together?

Gulping down the acid that clawed its way up your pipes once more, you shake off the guilt as much as you can. Opening your eyes, you see Leon getting closer to your chest. Ready to plant his love on them.

He slowly kisses around your areolas, nosing his way from breast to breast. You let out a nervous giggle as he makes eye contact with you as best he can.

Finally making contact with your nipples, he dips his tongue out and swirls around it. Pulling away with a soft 'pop', you card your fingers through his hair.

"Did that feel good?"

"Yeah, it felt really nice." You give him a shy smile, and he returns it.

Leon does the same to the other one before leaning back and admiring you once more. "You are honestly beautiful."

Covering your face with your arms, you push him with your knee, mumbling an embarrassed "thank you." You still have your manners, even for being the devil's best friend.

Some shuffling, and you peek through your arms and see he's taking off his white wife beater. You bite your lip and shift to your haunches, running your hands up his abdomen. Mesmerized by the way his muscles tense under your fingertips, dipping down to a small patch of hair trailing down beneath his jeans.

Smiling up at him, you wish to return the favor. Putting your lips near the belt of his pants, kissing each of his hip bones softly. His body twitches towards you, and he lets out a broken moan, putting his hands on your shoulders. You decide to be experimental and graze your teeth all the way up his stomach, stopping at his chest. Leon's sounds are going straight down south; you'll be surprised if your shorts aren't completely wet by now too.

"Can I?" You grab ahold of the button on his jeans, toying with it. Asking him for permission to undress him as well. He shakes his head, yes, and you immediately start undoing his fly. With a soft gasp, you see his bulge with a wet spot near the tip, staining his dark blue boxers. You continue to tug his pants down to his thighs so he can do the rest himself.

Leon's pants join the rest of your clothes on the floor. You shimmy your shorts and tights off. Both of you dressed in your undergarments.

You lay back, eyes on his cross necklace, hoping that God will accept you both as you are after this experience. Making love before marriage isn't acceptable, and you've been told your bodies are sacred temples and to not let anyone in or touch you inappropriately. Both of you would be shunned, and God knows what else would happen.

Leon begins to kiss his way down to your ankles and back up between your thighs. Slowly breathing in the scent of you. Pressing a few on your clothed mound, making you squirm, your thighs daring to close on his head. He gently pushes them away and up as he leaves little love bites where your legs connect to your most sacred spot.

Moaning softly, you cover your mouth. Your eyes dare to roll back into your head as you try and watch Leon explore your features before he removes the last article of clothing, keeping him away from seeing you completely bare. He moans into your panties, kitten-licking to taste your arousal. He is doing his best to try and copy the video from earlier.

"Please, Leon.." you whine, your hips pushing against his face, aching for more.

Leon nods his head and nuzzles against you, his nose stimulating you even further. He pulls away to remove your panties to dive back in.

Getting messy with it, he drools onto your folds, pressing open-mouth kisses all over. Paying attention to where you moan and squirm the most.

He dips his tongue down into your pulsating hole and groans, his eyes rolling back at the taste of you. "Tastes s'good, baby," he continues to ravage your poor, sensitive pussy, iron grip, keeping your thighs open.

You squeak and grab ahold of his hair, trying to push him away as you feel an unfamiliar warmth spread throughout your body. "Leon! Wait, wait, I-I—"

Leon moves his mouth up to your little pearl and begins to suck and nibble on it. That's what truly sends you over the edge.

Back bowing, legs shaking, head thrown back with your mouth open in a silent scream. You can't even feel your lower half; pins and needles are crawling down your legs and into your feet. You're sure your legs snapped shut on his head, as you feel him so much more now.

Soon you come back into reality with Leon hovering over you, his dick freed from its prison, poking your thigh. "You okay? Did that feel good, my love?" It's so sweet how he's checking in with you after giving you the best time of your life!

"Y-Yeah," you breathe out heavily, pulling him closer by his silver cross. Toying with it between your fingertips. "That felt amazing. Thank you."

Giving him a soft, sensual kiss. Tasting a bitter liquid on his lips. He chases you as soon as you part, dipping his tongue between your lips and asking for more. You oblige, and his thick muscle is invading your cavern, touching each tooth and swirling around your own tongue. It's turning hot and heavy as he presses his hips into yours, putting weight on you.

He starts humping your leg, his cock pulsating and leaking transparent sticky fluids on your skin. He is moaning and panting into your mouth as he cups your breasts. Slowly pulling away as he takes you in once more, completely infatuated with you, it seems. And it also seems the feeling is reciprocated by yours truly.

"Can I put it in, please?" Leon grabs ahold of his dick and clumsily strokes it over your cunt. His body is stuttering forward, and his grip on your breast is tightening just slightly.

Biting your swollen bottom lip, you nod slowly. Bracing yourself for the intrusion down there. It doesn't even look like he'll fit inside of you; you're afraid he's going to somehow rip you apart down there. But you push down the fear with a shaky sigh.

"Just, um.. let me know if it hurts," he swipes through your folds a few times before sinking into you gradually.

Your body tenses up, and you grab hold of his hand, squeezing it as you let out high pitched breathy whimpers. Squeezing your eyes shut as you try to get used to his size. You can't believe he's taking your virginity.

"W-wait, stop, stop, please... It hurts." You feel tears forming in your eyes, and Leon immediately halts.

Pressing chaste kisses to your eyes and one on your lips, his body bucks forward. With a groan, he murmurs, "God damn. I-I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, baby."

Your pussy flutters around his length, and you breathe in and out, getting used to him. Canting your hips up to get more of him on your terms, you roll your hips with a gasp and say, "Leon."

He takes that as a sign to push more of himself into you, filling you to the brim. Shifting to lay down on his forearms, next to your head, you wrap your legs around his waist. Your nails dig lightly into his back, eliciting a low growl from him as he tries to calm himself down. Too aroused with the feeling of you wrapped around his shaft so tightly that he can't even begin to think properly.

Taking a quick breather so that he doesn't accidentally fall on top of you. Lazily humping against you, stimulating your clitoral area while being so goddamn full of him.

"Baby, god," Leon starts to clumsily push in and out of your sopping heat. Barely even disconnecting himself from you. If anything, he doesn't ever want to pull out of you. You feel too good; it would greatly upset him to stop now.

It feels so intimate as he continues to hold your hand, sloppily kissing you as his dick slowly penetrates you deeper and deeper. Swallowing each other's noises, afraid of getting caught by his parents, is always lingering in the back of your mind.

"Mmnn, you're so tight, it's hard to move." Leon drops his forehead onto yours, staring at you intensely. His eyes are soft yet lustful, carrying love in them, you see.

Maybe you just hope that he loves you because you've loved him all your life. Having known him since you were 4 and he was 6, you couldn't have asked for anyone else to take your virginity but him. Even though he's the pastor's son.

"I love you," you can't help but blurt out. Biting your lip as he speeds up his movements for a few thrusts before going back to his lazy ones.

"You mean it?" He pants heavily into your mouth, feeling you nod your head against his. "I love you too. God, I really, really do. I promise, baby."

With those heartfelt (sort of) confessions, he begins to pick up his pace.

Growling softly when you clench around him or make squeaky noises that can't be discerned by a whimper or a moan. He loves you and all your little noises. The freckles that paint your body. The way your body curves and your stretch marks—everything about you is so gorgeous to him. He wouldn't want to do this with anyone else. He's tried giving you signs and hints that he wants to be your boyfriend, but he is always too scared to say it outright. But now he's glad about how things turned out. Including giving you his virginity.

You claw at his chest, grabbing ahold of his necklace as he fucks you harder. Looking down at his member, you see a white ring around his base. Throwing your head back into his pillows, you feel another orgasm creeping up your body.

"I'm gonna—it's gonna happen again, Leon, mmphh," you whine out as your legs try to close up, only to be blocked by his body.

Leon lets out a pained whimper, and then all of a sudden he grips onto your hair and starts to gently bite under your jawline next to your earlobe. It's syrupy and slow this time; your mind goes fuzzy and blank. No thoughts, just Leon. And his manhood bumps into your cervix.

"Please, let me... inside—can I?" His words are all jumbled up, and you can't help but say yes.

He speeds up even more, which seems impossible, but it really isn't. It has your chest bouncing with each thrust, and soft cries are leaving your lips. He keeps on holding onto your hair and hand, bringing your face up to meet him halfway to make out with you. Drooling into your mouth and his eyes rolling into the back of his head. With each thrust, his necklace bumps into your neck.

Hips stuttering into yours, he almost collapses onto your figure. Threatening to bury you into his mattress as he lazily thrusts a couple more times.

A hot liquid squirts into your womb, and Leon lets out a strained moan, dropping his head into your neck. Slowly letting go of your hair and letting your scalp relax after such harsh treatment. Your cunt clenches around him tightly.

His hips continue to jerk into yours, almost making sure his cum stays inside of you. It's like his body already knows what to do after watching one video of people making love.

Leon presses soft kisses up to your temple before getting off of you. Shifting back to his haunches, he hesitantly pulls out of your hole. Watching your cunt flutter around nothing, his seed slowly drips out of your hole. His dick jumps, hitting his toned stomach, almost ready to jump back into action for round two.

"Baby, just so beautiful. I love you."

You can't help but giggle at that, making more of the sticky white liquid squirt out of your hole and onto his sheets. He quickly notices that and grabs a few tissues to wipe it off, leaving you and himself clean.

"I love you too, pretty boy," you sigh deeply, truly enamored with the way Leon just is. He's so sweet without even trying.

You go to sit up and grab your undergarments, but your legs are too shaky to even stand up, and you almost fall over. Leon maneuvers you back onto his bed and fetches it all for you. Getting himself dressed as well.

Hell, maybe it wasn't so bad to become a sinner. It was definitely a heavenly sin, that's for sure.

You two stare at each other, lips swollen red, eyes swallowed by the black and flushed pink faces. Your hands interlocked as you slowly began to kiss. But this time, it's much sweeter and softer. No rush to feel skin on skin; just relaxing in the now.

"What're we going to do?" Mumbling into the kiss, you pull away.

"What do you mean?"

"You.. you did it inside of me. What if I get pregnant? I can't be a mother right now, Leon," you frown, looking down at your stomach.

"I'll figure it out, okay? And—And if you do end up carrying my child, I'll be there. I'm not just going to leave you."

And with that, your worries washed away, nodding alongside his words as if they were God's words. In a way, he is God to you. Constantly saving you, bettering you, loving you unconditionally, and listening to you. You'd get on your knees any day for Leon. He'd just have to say the word, and you'd do it.

"Was I too rough? Are you hurt anywhere?" He presses a few chaste kisses on your forehead and temple.

"No, but I am hurting... down there. It feels a little sore. But everything else is fine." You give him a thumbs-up with a goofy grin. He returns the silly smile, nuzzling your jawline.

"I can see if there's any ibuprofen; I'll be right back, okay?"

Shortly, he returns with two pills and sets them in your palm, bringing your water over to you. You take them with a gulp of water.

"I think I've got to use the restroom as well. I'll be back." You let out a breath and walked into the bathroom across the hall. Doing your business, flushing, and then washing your hands before returning back to him.

Joining him on his bed, under the covers, to snuggle up close to him.

"You're so warm. I love it."

"I'm glad you do, sweetheart."

You both end up talking for a few more hours about work, your friends, hobbies, and, lastly, how long you've liked one another.

"Wait, wait, wait," you giggle and lay on your elbows, resting your head in your palm. "You've liked me ever since elementary school? Why haven't you told me?"

"I tried. I tried giving you hints; I even brought you a flower that one time, remember? And, like, I always let you borrow my shirts and sweaters. I thought that was enough, and you saw that, and, uh, just didn't like me back." Leon rolls his eyes and pulls you into his arms. Attacking you with kisses on your ear and behind it.

You squeal and squirm in his grasp, letting out a breathy, "Okay, okay! I see it now!"

"What about you?"

"Since middle school. Remember the time on Valentine's Day when I gave you like all my candies? And then, when we did bingo at church, I gave you my prize and said I didn't want it. Yeah, well... I wanted it, but I gave it to you instead."

"So cute. I love you, baby bug," he mumbles into your neck.

"I love you too, handsome," you answer into his shoulder.

It is safe to say that you both fell asleep holding onto each other. With smiles on your faces. You both are dreaming of the day that you both get married and have the whole white picket fence, dog, children, and everything in between.

You'd risk your relationship with God again if it meant that you'd be with Leon forever.

He would absolutely risk being called a devil's spawn if it meant that he'd get to be your lover forever.

Maybe God would forgive you if you decided to sin again and again. As long as you are happy, it doesn't matter what happens. If and only if, you have Leon, the pastor's son, in your arms, everything will be alright.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #pastors son!leon #leon smut #leon kennedy smut #re2 leon #localkiss

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rinniessance · 5 months

Text

DADDY'S FAVORITE GIRL ༊*·˚ - step dad!gojo x fem!reader

going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to in the summer is a new step-dad. and you do not like the dangerous glint in his eyes every time he looks at you.

꒰ warnings: nsfw - dark content - mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ non-curse au. step dad!gojo, stepcest, age difference (reader is implied to be 21, gojo is in his late 30s), dubcon, gaslighting, manipulation, cheating, heavy daddy kink, so many pet names (babygirl, pretty, doll, princess etc.), slight dacraphyllia, slight overstimulation, breeding kink, unprotected sex, virginity loss, corruption kink. plot is kinda messy 'cause i was rushing to get to the smut, sowwy ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ // word count: 5.1k ꒱ ꒰ notes: i am freely being my most disgusting self, thank you for supporting my little insane brain .ᐟ.ᐟ꒱

going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to during summer break is a new step-dad. ever since your parents divorced when you were 14, your mom has been single – your teenage years, she dedicated herself to you, protecting you from your scumbag father, focusing on your future. you even agreed to delay your college admittance until you were 20, taking two gap years after your high school to stay at your hometown with her. your mom has the worst case of separation anxiety – which is why maybe you should’ve been more concerned when she gradually stopped texting you as the days went on. you assumed the best – maybe she found a hobby, maybe she reconnected with old friends, maybe she finally realized you are an adult and stopped babying you every waking moment. what you did not expect is for her to get married.

these are the thoughts running through you head as you stand in the middle of your living room, fresh out the airport, gawking at the man sleeping on the couch, and wonder how the fuck that happened. you would’ve honestly screamed and thought this was a squatter, or a robber, if not for all the wedding pictures obnoxiously decorating almost every available surface (god, how many photos do you need?). you try not to think too much about it – the flight was 6 hours, you barely got any sleep sitting to the smelliest man on the planet, and you just want to take a shower and go to bed. just as you start walking off, the front door swings open.

“oh my god, sweetheart, you’re home!” your mom’s voice booms through the quiet room resonating like a thunderclap in the middle of a still field. she runs to you, immediately pulling you into a hug which you happily return. you’re genuinely delighted to see her, albeit feeling a little weirded out by a man she decided to bring home. your mother looks over to the couch, man’s sleeping figure not moving once, and sighs with exasperation. “i assume he didn’t pick you up?”

“no but it’s okay…” you whisper quietly and gesture towards the figure on the couch with your head, “about that, though…”

“yeah, honey, i know, i am sorry i didn’t tell you. everything has been happening so quickly, i haven’t even had time to process it myself!” she squealed like a school girl. “his name is satoru gojo and we met at the charity event i went to six months ago.”

“since when do you attend charity events?” you ask, quirking the brow upwards.

“oh, i didn’t know what to do with myself ever since you moved out so i’ve been trying anything and everything. and look, the results have been phenomenal!” she giggled, frustration she had towards her husband about not picking you up melting away in front of your eyes. god, he really had her wrapped around his finger.

“okay, well, i am kind of tired so i wanted to go to bed. is it okay if we talk about this tomorrow?”

your mom suddenly looks down at her feet, a little embarrassed. what did she do.

“yes, about that… that room was sitting unutilized the whole time you were away so satoru and i thought it would be a good idea to remake it into a home office, kind of. your bed is still in there though! so you can sleep in the room no problem.”

“mom, what the fuck…” you whine. not only your room with all your memories and all your personality was gone and demolished, you now have to sleep in the room that was most likely used by him. “home office” my ass, you thought – your mom would not need it in a million years, and by the way she’s avoiding your gaze in shame, it was definitely not her idea.

“i’m sorry baby, but you’ve been away and…”

you interrupt her with a wave of your hand.

“whatever, i’m too tired to think about it. i’ll take a shower and go to bed, i don’t wanna deal with him until tomorrow,” you sigh with frustration and walk off into your home office, dropping your things on the floor.

what you don’t see as you walk off is the dangerous glint in satoru’s eyes as he listens to every bits of your conversation. you said the last sentence with so much poison, he thinks it might’ve struck him dead. gojo knows it will be difficult to get on your good side now but he likes to play these games on hard mode.

oh, you will be so much fun to break.

gojo satoru is a patient man – when he really wants something, he is content to wait until he gets it. that being the main reason why he approaches you slowly. it’s the next day after you arrive that he has a chance to introduce himself properly.

you leave the room after having the best night’s sleep – you really didn’t mind waking up in the office today, you must’ve been too tired to think straight and threw a fit yesterday. you make a mental note to apologize to your mom later. as you turn into the kitchen, you’re met with the view you wish did not have such a strong effect on you – your step-dad, freshly out of the shower, grey sweatpants low riding on his hips, is preparing what seems to be breakfast.

you’re so fucked.

you try to shake off the feeling of arousal washing over you. you may not have had a chance to have any sexual experiences yet, but you’re not that much of a virgin not to know when you’re feeling horny. you just wish it wasn’t due to the incredibly hot step-dad. the left-over frustration from previous night bubbles up like over spilled champagne and you decide to keep your distance. anger helps you keep yourself grounded, and you maneuver around the man to make breakfast, but you see that he prepared it for you already.

“oh, thank you,” you say quietly as he extends the plate to you.

“you’re very welcome, sweetheart.”

the nickname sends a shiver down your spine.

gojo turns to face you and gives you his breathtaking smile. you want to choke on your toast.

“i wanted to apologize for not picking you up yesterday. your mom told me so much about you, and i was excited to meet her ‘favorite girl’,” his eyes spark with a dangerous glint at the nickname, making you shrink into yourself, “but my work held me up, and then i think i went for a quick nap and… uh… ended up falling asleep,” he says with a light chuckle.

“that’s okay, i didn’t really mind the train ride,” you respond with visible discomfort,

he now stands next to you by the counter, his body heat palpable, melting over you like a scorching son. gojo’s all-teeth smile is gorgeous, frustratingly enough, but it makes your skin crawl: like a prey walking into the carefully designed trap, you can feel your gut asking you to run. it makes sense your mom fell for him so easily.

“will you let me make up for it? let’s go our for a dinner, i’m sure your mom would be delighted to hear we’re trying to get along.”

“i don’t know, i haven’t seen my friends in some time, i think i’ll be hanging out with them for a while,” you shuffle from leg to leg, trying to move away

“that’s okay, we have a whole summer ahead.”

for some reason it felt more like a threat than a promise.

you smile politely back, not knowing what to say, rushing to finish your breakfast. the image of your step-dad, half-naked in your family kitchen talking to you about his plans with you for the whole summer should be weird – it’s difficult to find it weird when the said step-dad is criminally hot, unfortunately.

“i think i’ll go now, thanks for the breakfast,” gojo’s gives you a smile so sweet, it somehow triggers a toothache, and waves you off. since yesterday, he’s been making you feel extremely on edge for no apparent reason, it’s driving you a little insane.

when you come back home that evening, you are greeted by both your mom and satoru with the dinner ready. she babbles about how great of a cook he is, and that she can’t wait until you try it. you politely decline citing that you’re full and quickly leave for your room – satoru’s blue eyes were looking at you with almost an animalistic stare, and you hated that you liked it.

gojo thought things were going well with you – he’s given you the space you need in the first two weeks after you arrived. your mom was overjoyed seeing how deeply satoru already cared about you – making sure you eat in the morning, not letting you go to bed without a meal, always checking on you throughout the day, keeping you safe. you, however, thought it was… weird, if anything, that he was all around you this intensely.

“oh, honey, that’s just how he shows that he cares. he was like that with me as well,” your mom tells you one of the nights when you bring it up. it worries you how easily she takes his side now and wonder if something else is going on.

satoru picks you up when you stay out too late, to the wee hour of the night when the subways stop running; he makes sure you have your nights with your mom, when he doesn’t intrude on your backyard conversations and only adores you pretty features from his second-floor window; he learns what movies and music and tv you like, trying to decipher the person that is you.

he’s been putting all this effort to get to know your every step – then why the fuck does he find you one night you kissing some random boy on your driveway?

you said you were going out today and no pickup was needed – now it makes sense why.

gojo satoru is a patient man. but even his patience can start running thin, trickling like water through cracks in the fingers. hourglass of his kindness has been half full for a while now – it’s about time the sand runs out.

you think a boy like him can give you what satoru can? just you wait and see.

kitchen is uncharacteristically quiet when you walk in. it’s the next morning, and usually by now, satoru would be making breakfast for you. his job is still unknown – you are not sure if he was suddenly called in but the feeling of happy solitude falls over you, even if for a moment.

your mom is gone at least for two weeks for work, you’re dreading the moment you have to be left alone with your step-dad. the look in his eyes yesterday was dangerous, a predator appraising its victim before sinking its teeth in, and you’re happy megumi was able to leave quickly after walking you home. surprisingly, gojo didn’t say you a word when you walked into the house, silently sitting in front of the tv like he didn’t just spy through the window on your kiss with the boy.

air in the room was heavy with tension – you knew satoru was avoiding looking your way, jaw clenched, hands balled into fists. instinctively, you wanted to break the silence, say something to discharge the electricity jumping through the atoms of your stuffy living room air, but ultimately decided against it. you have nothing to say to a man, and it’s not like you needed to justify your actions in front of him anyways. you quickly retreated into the office and avoided him until you fell asleep.

when you woke up to an empty apartment not even fifteen minutes ago, you felt relief. walking into the kitchen and confirming your presence alone, you even felt happy. then what is this weird feeling, almost as if you are missing something, nagging at you? you thought of going out today but now a strange desire to stay at home washes over.

you make breakfast for the first time since you came home (gojo didn’t skip a single day, you have no idea how he kept up with that), and you chastise yourself for feeling weird about cooking for yourself; and you chastise yourself again when your mind lingers on the thoughts of a certain white-haired man; and again when you look at your phone, convincing yourself it’s a bad idea to text him. god, you feel so stupid. didn’t you want him to stop being so unsettlingly sweet and dotting around you all the time?

conflicted by your irrationality once again, you frustratingly take your plate and sit down on the couch. flipping through the netlifx previews, you land on something to distract your mind by. you settle on some true crime documentary and let the horrors on the screen consume you, abandoning for a moment the thoughts plaguing your head.

you’ve been glued to the screen for at least two hours before you heard the jiggle of the keys. like an eager puppy, you waited for gojo to come inside and greet you like he would every day – only for him to completely ignore your presence, beelining straight for the kitchen. turning your head back to the tv, you try your best not to pay any attention to the uncharacteristic behavior from satoru’s end.

“i will be in the home office the whole day, don’t enter.”

before you can respond anything back, your step-dad is already walking off without sparing you a second glance. is he still upset from yesterday? you didn’t think kissing megumi would be that much of a deal. your nervously play with the hem of the blanket, show playing on tv long forgotten, contemplating what you should do next. why are you bothered by his silence this much anyways?

rethinking your earlier choice, you send a quick text to your friend asking to meet you for drinks. maybe right now gojo needs space, or whatever, and leaving him alone is the best next thing right now. you knock at the door of the home office.

“sorry, i am going out now and need to quickly change.”

not even 5 seconds pass before the door is swung open by a man that’s been occupying too much of your mental space today.

“be quick,” is the only response you get before he leaves the room and closes the door behind him. you’re perplexed by this sudden change in behavior yet again. throwing on the first decent outfit you can find, you let gojo know that you’re done and will be home later; hum is the only acknowledgment you get before he disappears in the office.

exiling all the thoughts of satoru gojo from your head, you leave your house, hoping tomorrow will put all the pieces of the puzzle back together.

yet the next day comes, and you still wake up to no warmth from satoru – it felt as if he built a wall between the two of you in one night’s span, impossible to be breached. should you talk to him? should you apologize? and apologize for what? you didn’t do anything wrong, did you? ignoring the gnawing feeling inside once more, you retreat to the living room, sulking on the couch until the end of the day, clawing onto the hope gojo of tomorrow will acknowledge your existence.

“did i do something wrong?”

you stand in the doorway to gojo’s office, arms crossed over your chest. he lazily turns his head your way as if giving you even a second of his time is too much of a bother – the look he sends you is burning through your core, making you pathetically weak and wet.

“no,” he starts slowly, “do you think you did something wrong?”

“i don’t know! that’s why i’m asking. you’ve been ignoring me for the past week, and it’s getting weird.”

“i thought i’d leave you alone, it seems you’re capable of having fun on your own.”

satoru is looking back to his screen now, and you scrunch your eyebrows, frustrated by the riddles he’s throwing your way. walking inside the room, your close the door on instinct and take wide steps to stand in front of him.

“stop answering me like this, we’re not playing a charade. what do you mean?” the demand in your voice is clear, and it twists something inside satoru – his gaze falls on you again yet this time it’s dark, taunting, dangerous, with a hint of chaos. it scares and excites you.

gojo suddenly stands up, and pushes you into his desk until you’re sitting on it. he is tall – your mom basically married a giant – and you try to curl into yourself to escape his malicious eyes.

“what, i thought you wanted me to leave your alone? you want my attention now all of a sudden?” he respond with the question of his own in a mocking tone.

“i never said i wanted you to ignore me…” you answer meekly, yelping slightly as your back hits his desk – you suddenly realize there is nowhere to run now.

“really? we’ve been together in a house for almost a month now, and yet you showed no interest in getting to know me.”

“’m sorry…” you cannot think of anything else to say. gojo moves even closer, and is now towering over you – it makes you embarrassingly horny.

“show me how sorry you are.”

before you can respond, he is caging your body with his and capturing your lips in a kiss, and you freeze – all of this is so wrong, you cannot bring yourself to start moving your mouth against his. gojo’s tongue coerces its way inside, exploring the undiscovered paths, his teeth biting your still lips. closing your eyes, you whimper and try to push him away but he only catches your wrists with his one hand, while the other plays with the hem of your shorts. a gasp escapes your lips, and you push yourself further into the desk, squirming under gojo’s body.

“what, you don’t like it? i thought my little girl wanted daddy’s attention?” he torments you, voice condescending and thick with mockery. all you can muster is a pathetic mewl, words lost somewhere inside your throat, and dig your fingers into the edge of your desk as your step-dad forces his digits inside your panties, lightly brushing against your clit.

“god, you’re already so wet, so filthy,” he whispers between the heated kisses as the pads of his fingers keep teasing your pussy. “tell me, babygirl, are you still a virgin? gotta know how to treat you.”

“y-yes…”

“well, am i just not the luckiest?” gojo chuckles darkly, spreading your legs with his thigh. unoccupied hand goes to grip your hip while the fingers on the other are still working your clit, sliding the digits between your puffy lips, teasing your hole. every time he circles around the entrance and mocks by pushing his finger just slightly inside, the moan builds up in your throat, and you’re too embarrassed to let it out.

“common, baby, your daddy wants to hear you, don’t hide your pretty voice from me.”

gojo is infuriatingly good with his fingers – you could never bring yourself this much pleasure from playing with your clit, and your defiance starts melting away as you find yourself bucking your hips into his hand, whining pitifully. the man completely removes your shorts and underwear, shoving the latter into his pocket – something to remember this moment by.

“god, such a pretty pussy, i can’t believe you’ve been hiding it from me. take off your shirt so i can see all of you, princess.”

immense desire pools between your legs, hunger and lust evident in satoru’s cerulean eyes, now hidden by dilated pupils, and you’re surrendering yourself to him – want makes you delirious, completely erasing your sense of right and wrong. you remove the top, nipples perked and waiting. gojo looks at you in wonder and disbelief – all of that for him? his hand went to squeeze your boob almost on an instinct, rolling the nipple between the pads of his fingers, while sucking on another with his mouth. you drop your head back, losing yourself to the intense pleasure your step-dad’s giving you. seeing as you’re distracted by him playing with your tits, he takes this as his chance to shove two of his fingers inside.

a strangled moan leaves your lips, your hands gripping man’s shoulders.

“ahhh, that hurts, satoru.”

“nah-uh, that’s not what i want to hear you calling me,” he straightens himself and starts scissoring you with his digits. the initial intrusion is painful, you can feel your virgin walls stretching to accommodate for how he’s dragging the fingers in and out, yet the burn is woefully delightful, and you’re getting lost again.

“’m sorry daddy.”

gojo only chuckles – god, you were easier than he expected, so well-behaved and pliable under him.

“that’s right, let daddy take good care of you.”

he speeds up the pace, curling his slender, pretty fingers, brushing the spots you were never able to reach with your own. wet, soggy sounds fill the entirety of the room, air already stuffy with smell of sex as he continues to finger-fuck your pussy. gojo could feel his cock twitching in his pants, he wanted to take you right there and then, but he was determined to make you cum on his digits first – it prompts him to attach his lips to your neck, sucking on the sensitive spot below your jawline, marking you as his.

your mewling turns louder, breathing is getting labored, and it seems your hips have a mind of their own now as they are bucking into satoru’s movements, fucking yourself how you need it. something akin to orgasm starts building up in your tummy – it has never felt this all-consuming, you wonder if you’ve been touching yourself wrong all this time.

“daddy, please don’t – ah! – stop,” is everything you can say in a measly attempt to ask him to speed up. his thumb finds your neglected clit, rubbing tight circles around your bundle of nerves, and picks up the pace, cunt now clenching even tighter around his two fingers, and gojo groans thinking how you’d feel around his aching dick. he adds a third finger – it’s angled so perfectly assault your special spongy spot, it turns your brain into a mush.

gojo pinches your nipple, kissing you to swallow all the lewd moans to himself.

“is my princess close?”

“yes daddy, ‘m so close.”

“common, cum all over my fingers, baby.”

these words finally push you over the edge – your climax washes over you like a cold morning shower, leaving you trembling in gojo’s hold. your legs are trying to close to stop the man from continuing his abuse on your twitching pussy but he is too lost in the feeling of your walls constricting around his fingers to allow you to do that. he fucks you through your orgasm, bringing you to the realm of overstimulation.

“ahh, daddy, please, it hurts now,” you whine with teary voice, beads of salty water gathering in the corners of your eyes.

“shhhh, daddy knows best, yeah? let me feel you a little longer.”

gojo keeps his pace until you’re clawing at his arm, trying to pull away your pussy from his fingers. he grabs you by the back of your head, bruising your lips with the intensity of his kiss – you’re sure he draws blood by how he bites your lower lip, licking the messy aftermath. you’re still whining and mewling, trails of tears finally flowing down your face, and he’s sure he’s never seen anything hotter as he licks the salty tracks.

“you’ve done so good, babygirl, i think you’re ready for the main gift,” satoru says and finally withdraws his fingers. the emptiness is welcoming yet disappointing, and you groan. gojo quickly unbuckles his pants and shoves them down, alongside his boxer briefs, and you almost choke on your spit when you see how well-endowed he is. you don’t have a lot to compare it to but you think his cock is beautiful – it's long and slender, and uncut, prominent vein running all the way from the base to just underside of his head, and you get an immeasurable desire to run your tongue along it.

“is my pretty doll drooling jus’ at the sight of my dick?” he mockingly asks you, making you turn your gaze away. gojo chuckles again, and grabs you by your chin, pulling your head down.

“no looking away, darling, i want you to see how i take your virginity.”

with no other option, you keep your gaze peeled downwards, to where gojo strokes himself couple of times before lining himself up with your leaking hole. despite all the preparation and your previous orgasm, you’re still incredibly tight and satoru groans as he starts pushing himself inside. you can see his smooth cockhead bullying his way into you, stretching your greedy walls – man feels you pulsating around him, and that makes him twitch.

“fuck, princess, you’re so tight, feels so good.”

gojo finally sinks all the way in, your cervix being met in a kiss by a swollen tip, and you moan, sound almost pornographic. your step-dad doesn’t let you adjust before he pulls out almost all the way before sliding back in – he doesn’t go easy on you for your first time, setting up a brutal pace, not caring if you’re ready to take him fully yet. it stings, and you have to hold yourself on gojo’s shoulder’s as he starts fucking into you. his hands are on your hips, guiding them to meet his thrusts.

“daddy please, ‘ts too much,” you cry out but satoru is all too lost in how your gummy walls perfectly hug his swollen cock. he doesn’t respond, shutting you up by forcing his tongue into his mouth yet again, sucking on every piece of available flesh. slowly, the tension in your body melts away and gives way to a new kind of pressure – the one building up in your tummy. you’re shocked at how fast your body is able to start getting on the road to blissful ecstasy again but you’re not complaining.

“shit, are you getting close already, babygirl? i can feel your pretty pussy squeezing me again.”

“yes, sorry daddy.”

“there is nothing to be sorry about, just means your daddy’s doing a good job,” he says with a grin, keeping up the pace, rutting into your sloppy cunt. queefing sounds and slapping of skin on skin make you blush furiously yet you can’t take away your gaze from where satoru keeps burying himself inside you.

the girth of gojo’s cock is deadly – not only he’s able to reach the spongy spot almost immediately, making white spots dancing across your vision, kaleidoscope of pleasure lighting up your every nerve ending, he is also bruising your cervix just with enough pressure to make you twitch in delight. his pubic bone grinds against your puffy clit and it’s setting up fireworks against your skin, hot molten lava igniting your whole being.

your moaning becomes uncontrollable as satoru’s fucking you in an animalistic pace – he keeps splitting you open, the spread of legs is slowly growing uncomfortable.

“look how good you’re taking me, being such a good girl for me,” he’s babbling, edging himself too – he wants to feel you spasming around his cock, he cannot let himself cum before that. “gonna feel so good cumming inside, pretty. give you a cute little brother or sister, huh? what do you think? i bet you’ll look so gorgeous being pregnant with my baby.”

“no, daddy, you can’t do that…”

“hm, why? just imagine, you walking around, with my child inside your belly, all cute and swollen for me, tits full of milk. wouldn’t you want that?”

you hiccup a sob as gojo keeps dragging his heavy cock in and out of you, the vein you saw before pressing against your walls deliciously, and you feel your toes start to curl as your body chases after the second orgasm. you dig your nails into his biceps, certain to leave half moon marks on his porcelain skin, and bite your lip. in turn, he is pressing his fingers against the plum skin of your hips, marking you with bruises to remind you of this tomorrow.

“shit, i haven’t fucked your cunny for that long yet it’s already perfectly snuggled around me. i’m training it fast, huh? i’m gonna teach it to fit only me,” you can hear the grin in his voice as he says that.

gojo feels your walls tighten around him – he can see you’re teetering on the edge of climax, whining and moaning under the man, letting him completely use you – so he picks up the speed, assaulting your abused pussy. it doesn’t take longer than that for the tension in your tummy to snap, and you’re wantonly crying out satoru’s name.

“fuck, dollface, you’re squeezing me so perfectly right now. want to milk me for all i’ve got?”

you’re cock drunk, unable to respond to him, hoping your mewling will be enough for the man to see he fucked you stupid. he is not showing signs of slowing down – you can only continue whining as satoru chases after his own pleasure. he pistons his hips couple of times more, and you can feel him throbbing inside as he shoots creamy ropes of cum inside you, painting your womb white. the ring of mixed fluids at the bottom of his cock drives him insane, and he continues fucking his cum into you.

“shit baby, can’t waste a single drop now, can we.”

you’re letting out a quiet sob, pleasure too overwhelming and almost feverish, still unable to find your voice. when he deems it satisfactory that his seed is all warm inside you, gojo finally pulls out and kisses the top of your head.

“i’d say this was a good practice run, what do you say? your mom only comes back in a week, i’ll make you my personal cumdump until then.”

you snap your head up at his words, the smile playing on your step-dad’s face borderline sinister. you think it’s supposed to make you scared, then why is your pussy already twitching around nothing?

“yes daddy, anything for you.”

2K notes · View notes

explicit-tae · 2 months

Note

i seen you did a request so i as wondering can i request something? 🥹

jk x reader where the reader gets cheated on by her boyfriend and she gets her lick back 💜 love your stories!

I'm sure I can do something quick 💜

Lick Back

Realizing that your boyfriend has become a completely different person & being malicious towards you could only mean that he’s being nice to someone else.

Word Count:4.298

Warning: dry humping, kissing, neck kissing/sucking, dirty talking, nipple pinching, praising, affair/cheating, oral sex, breeding kink, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, slight voyeurism, teasing/taunting, squirting,

Your mother always told you that if your dog started barking at you that it only meant that someone else was feeding it. A dog would never bite the hand that feeds them.

Your mother wasn’t talking about an actual dog.

However, you had a dog - in a way - and recently, it began doing just that. It became annoyed with you for every little thing you’ve done. It’s tone changed completely when speaking with you; always rushed and not attentive. It started to be mean for no reason, nearly foaming at the mouth when you questioned their sudden change of actions - or questioned it at all. It wanted to be outside longer than usually and would be upset when called back home.

The dog being your boyfriend of nearly 5 years. You noticed the shift a year ago, but you ignored your gut feeling of something being terribly wrong - but now, you are numb and though it hurts in a way, you are also relieved. The love that was one there in your relationship appeared to expire without you realizing it - or maybe you had not wished to accept it.

And yet, here you are in a home the both of you share. He is out, not bothering to tell you just where he’s at - and you don’t ask. You stopped asking a year ago when you grew accustomed to sleeping alone.

But even if the love for your dog is no longer there - and if it was, it was slowly drifting away - that didn’t mean the anger wasn’t. The fact that you allowed the dog to stay with you because you loved him, fed said dog his favorite meals and showered him with love and affections. They were supposed to be loyal - but atlas, someone else had gained its love while you were left in the dark.

But there was someone else who liked what the dog had, you noticed. Someone who appreciated the meals you cooked and ate them with ease, who would come when you called them. They were loyal - even more than your own dog - and it just happened to be the dogs friend.

Jeon Jungkook is an attractive man and he knew it. It showed in the way he struts, shoulders lax and head held high. He almost wore a smirk, but never a cocky one. Jeon Jungkook could be an asshole - a complete fuckboy. He could turn his nose at anyone because he had it like that - but he didn’t.

Jeon Jungkook was a kind individual. He was caring - especially to the ones he was close with. You recall many times when you’d had to call him because your boyfriend had gotten so drunk that you’d need a man's help - and Jungkook was always that man.

And even though Jungkook was a friend of your boyfriend, he was kind to you, as well. He changed your tires on numerous occasions, making sure to give you the speech that “You need to make sure you keep up with your car, Y/N.” or the “Your oil and tire lights are on, how do you even drive this still?” he had good intentions.

“This is so good!” Jungkook says, mouth full of the pork belly. He licks his lips to savor the flavor. Jungkook always wore a disgusted face when something was amazing in taste and even now, his eyebrows are knit together in confusion and he appears utterly disgusted - that was a good sign.

“I’m glad you enjoy it.” you smile at him, washing the dishes you’ve made when cooking.

“I told you I don’t mind washing the dishes, Y/N.” Jungkook says, glancing upwards at you. “It’s the least I can do since you cooked.”

You sigh, smile never ceasing. “It’s alright. You’re a guest after all.”

Your dog wasn’t home and you don’t know when he will be - nor did you truly care. His friend was nicer, more entertaining, as well. He ate your cooking as if it was fine dining, and appreciated it, too. He was kind and good at conversation - he was caring, far more than your dog.

“I enjoy cooking for you, Jungkook. You deserve it the most.” you turn off the water and begin to dry your hands. Your eyes meet his and for a moment, you’re pondering if he’s thinking about your words the way you intend him to.

“Thank you.” Jungkook grins, tiny dimples at the side of his cheek forming.

You lean against the island that he sits at, quiet and content that he’s eating the food you’ve made for him. It wouldn’t be the first time you cooked for Jungkook - you recall the first time without your dog being present was a year prior. You had cooked and waited for his return and was left with nothing. It was hours after when you heard him return - this time not alone or coherent. Jungkook had slung the man onto the couch annoyed with just how drunk he had become and when you emerged - in nothing but a nightgown - he had apologized profusely.

“I cooked.” you had sighed, disappointed but not the least bit surprised by the actions of your dog. “Do you want a plate?”

It has become a tradition now. You’d cook for Jungkook often and each time, he'd come and enjoy what you’ve made him - whatever you made him.

Jungkook was no fool, as well. He knows just how independent you’ve become, especially within the last year. He knows that you know that he knows of your boyfriend's loyalty - or lack of - but you never question him about it, even when he prepares himself to tell you the truth if you had.

Over time, Jungkook noticed that you don’t seem to care about your boyfriend's whereabouts - and around that time, he picks up on just how you begin to dress when around him. It was subtle at first, sure. You showed more skin - more legs with your shorts, more shoulders. He notes that the clothes you wore were tighter but relaxed seeing as you were in the comfort of your own home. You’d wear tanktops that showed your breast with shorts that made your thighs highly appealing for his eyes. Overtime, you ditched the bra and it became harder for him to not gawk at the way your breast looked in them.

Jungkook doesn’t want to assume anything - you were so far removed from your boyfriend that you didn’t care anymore. One drunken wine night when the man was away on a “business trip”, you had told Jungkook that you hadn’t had sex with him in close to a year now - his own drunken response was that if he was your boyfriend, he would fuck you any chance he’d get.

Jungkook isn’t sure if you remember that night and neither of you brought it up after.

“You seem tense.” Jungkook is behind you now - when he has gotten up from his seat, you are unaware, consumed by your own thoughts. “Is everything alright?”

You slowly nod your head, turning it slightly to get a glimpse of him.

Jungkook snorts. “Your shoulders are tense.” he says, gentle hands placing themselves on your shoulders. “Is everything alright with work? The car?”

“Yes, Jungkook. I’m fine.” you giggled. “You worry too much.”

Jungkook’s fingers begin to rub at your shoulders, applying pressure to them. You swallow, your hands gripping the edge of the sink.

“You should relax, Y/N. You’re always doing something and never truly giving yourself a break.”

Jungkook’s hand reaches your neck. They run up slowly, goosebumps left behind in its trail. Your eyes flutter close at how good it felt to be massaged.

“Does it feel good?”

There’s a drop in Jungkook’s voice - it’s deeper. He whispers it, as if only speaking directly to you, even if you and he are already alone in the home.

“Yes.” you murmur back, head falling back against his chest just as he reaches the front of your neck. A tattooed hand wraps around it, thumb caressing your skin in circular motions.

“I’m glad.” Jungkook is subtle when he presses himself against you - so gentle that you don’t notice it at first. You're completely against his body, in blissful relaxation. “You deserve to be taken care of, too.”

Even now, you dressed so comfortably - shorts stopping high above your thighs and a shirt that sculptures your breast so lovingly that he had a difficult time not watching the way they bounced as you walked around the kitchen preparing him the meal.

“I don’t really have anyone to do that.” you whisper back, a slight moan creeping past your parted lips.

“I can take care of you…unless you object.”

You nod your head and instantly, his free hand roams down to grip your clothed breast. He can feel just how hard your nipple was.

You hiss, back slightly arching.

Jungkook engulfs both breasts in the palm of his hands and begins to rub, your light moans enticing him to continue. He can feel your nipples harden in his grasp and he himself begins to hiss lowly to himself on how heavenly they felt in his hands.

There’s no doubt that the two of you wanted this for far too long by the way you completely allow him to touch you without any resistance. He presses himself against you needily, face in your neck as his hands continue to grip and pull at your breast.

“You smell nice.” Jungkook grumbles in your neck, nose inhaling your sweet scent; he’s sure he sounds like a creep, but he wasn’t going to hold himself back . Not now he’s certain you want him just as much as he does you. “I like this scent on you the most. This and the jasmine one.”

You swallow, heat rushing through your body at his words. Jungkook had memorized the perfume’s you’d wear due to the countless times he’d be around you. He recalls the time he even had to help his friend pick out a gift for you on an anniversary and how upset he had been when he chose the cheapest scent he could find - and one you’d never wear. Jungkook had swamped them out and chose the very scent you wore now and you’re none the wiser.

Your arms reach behind you to cup Jungkook’s head just as you feel his teeth sink into the nape of your neck. He’s being more rough; dominant. You don’t remember when the last time a man has touched you with such possessiveness - a sex-toy could only do so much.

“Such pretty skin,” Jungkook’s tongue pokes out of his mouth to lick onto your neck. “just want to mark it all up.”

“Then do it.” you respond. If you and him were going to do this, mind as well go all out. Your dog often comes home smelling like sickly sweet fruit perfume and cigarettes at times - you wanted Jungkook’s scent all over you.

Jungkook does, biting your skin harshly and then suckling on it until your neck is perfectly marked up. He’s then quick to turn you around to finally face him, the both of you now locking eyes.

“Are you upset?” Jungkook questions, eyes dark with lust but a bit concerned.

“With you?” you ask, raising a brow. “Never.”

“Not with me. In general.” Jungkook murmurs, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. His thumb gently traces your lips. “I’m sure you know…what he does.”

You nod your head, leaning into Jungkook’s touch.

“Don’t want you to regret or feel bad afterwards.”

“Are you?” you ponder aloud.

You were so far removed from your boyfriend that you could care less about what he thought. In your mind, he was nothing but a roommate now; the two of you not even sharing a bed.

Jungkook, however, was your boyfriend's friend and maybe he would feel remorseful.

“I told you that I’d never stop fucking you if given the chance.” Jungkook snorts, thumb tapping your lip.

“Then don’t stop.” you murmur, tongue poking out to wrap poke his tongue. “I haven’t been fucked good in so long.”

Jungkook hisses, his hand now gripping your cheek. He shakes his head. “He told me what you like.” he confesses, unsure if you were willing to go down that route with him.

“He was never really into anything.” you shrug your shoulders - this is why you ended up with a vibrator and a dildo; and you were currently looking into a vibrating dildo, how sad your life has become.

Jungkook is aware of his friend's lack of foreplay - he was only ever interested in his own pleasure. Jungkook, however, didn’t mind pleasuring you until you were begging him to stop - but maybe he was just a bad person to think about his friend's girlfriend riding his face until she came.

Then again, you were being cheated on by said friend so maybe this was just his karma; it wasn’t like you were a bad person and deserve such treatment.

“I want to eat you out.” Jungkook declares suddenly that it catches you off guard completely. “Why do you look scared?”

“Just shocked.” you say, body growing even hotter. “Wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“‘I want you to ride my tongue until you’re squirting all over me’ is what I truly wanted to say.” Jungkook deadpans and blinks. “But I didn’t want to scare you away.”

You gulp, eyes widening and thighs clenching.

“And by the way you’re rubbing your thighs together, it didn’t scare you.” Jungkook smirks and instantly, he presses his lips against you. It’s a deep kiss that catches you by surprise, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t crave more.

“I can kiss you, right?” Jungkook says against your lips - maybe he should’ve asked first. “I know kissing is more intimate-”

You shut him up by kissing him, arms wrapping around his neck to assure that he doesn’t get too far away from you.

Kissing Jungkook came naturally - as if the two of you had done it before. He pries your mouth open and allows his tongue to dance around yours, all the way he holds onto your hips.

“Bed,” you kiss his lips again. “room.”

Jungkook follows behind you, unable to keep his hands off of your body as you lead him to your bedroom. He doesn’t even bother to close the door before he’s already tugging at your clothes.

Your shirt is the first to go, breast pooling out that Jungkook cannot focus on anything else but them. He dives into them, your back hitting your mattress just as he begins to suckle on your left nipple, his thumb and index finger pinching the right.

The noises Jungkook made were just as filthy, wet sucking and groans echoing off of your walls. How long he had craved to see your bare breast - they were always teasing him when he was around. Bouncing whenever you move, nipples always erect for his view.

“So pretty.” Jungkook brings the right nipple into his mouth, showing the same amount of needy lust and love to it as the left. His hand squeezes your left breast in the palm of his hand, the pain shooting pleasure right to your core. “I can suck on them all night. I don’t know why he doesn’t.”

Now, Jungkook brings both nipples into his mouth, needily needing to taste you. He has a crazed look in his eyes that only causes you to squirm beneath him, legs wrapping around his waist to feel him.

“You can suck on them whenever you want.”

Jungkook grunts, teeth grazing against your nipples as they pop from his wet mouth. “Don’t tempt me, Y/N. You’ll never be able to get rid of me.”

You were positive you didn’t want Jungkook to leave.

“I want you naked right now. I wanna see just what that idiot has for me right now.”

There wasn’t much Jungkook had to do to get you naked - in seconds, he had helped you kick off your shorts along with your panties, needy pussy on display for him.

“Need you on my tongue now.” Jungkook hisses, flipping you and him so he is beneath you now. Your pussy is so close to his face that it causes you to yelp in slight humiliation.

“I-I wasn’t really prepared to do this, i-I-”

“Y/N,” Jungkook calls, tone dismissive. “I’m a man. Just fuck yourself against my tongue.”

So you do - and Jungkook’s hands only make you do more. His hands slap your thigh to kick up the pace, his eyes boring into your face as it contorts with pleasure. Your hips just as you grind against his tongue, hands gripping your breast.

Jungkook’s eyes never leave your face. He enjoys watching the stress leave your body as you pleasure yourself, it tells him that this is something you truly needed. His hands begin to rub along your hips, encouraging you to continue until they slide down to your ass. He cups them, his own head swaying side to side to further stimulate your needy clit.

“S-S-Shit!” your body leans back, hands planting against his thighs as he devours your cunt as if it was his last meal. “I-I’m gonna cum…you gotta move.”

That was the last thing Jungkook was going to do - not even as your hands try to pry him away from your pussy, he doesn’t. He continues to suckle onto your clit until you’re visibly shaking above him, but even then he was determined; fully committed to having you cum hard on his tongue.

Your legs begin to quiver and Jungkook soon was going to get what he was looking for - you cum. He licks the arousal up, slurping and suckling loudly as your moans mewl out of your mouth.

“I could eat you all day.” Jungkook speaks beneath you - and you knew he was serious.

You did the wrong thing by looking at him. His mouth and chin was fully coated in you and just the sight causes you to cum even harder - the hardest you have ever had in your life; right onto his tongue like he wanted.

You fall back against the bed with a tired sigh, breathing hitching.

Jeon Jungkook was a dangerous man. No wonder the universe gave you your dog - you couldn’t handle a real man such as Jungkook, surely.

“Can I fuck you?” Jungkook asks, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Unless you’re tired then-”

“I want you to cum in me.”

Jungkook coughs, his cock jumping in his pants. “I-I…really?”

“If you’re going to fuck me, you mind as well go all out.” you pant, widening your legs. “I don’t want you to hold back, either.”

You were going to be the death of him - but if this was what is going to kill him, then he’ll be content.

“Fuck.” Jungkook is in a hurry to remove his clothing, scattering it all around the room without a care. “Fuck you’re so perfect. I would treat you so well, Y/N. Fuck I hate him.”

Jungkook’s words causes you to giggle at the circumstances. He hated your boyfriend - his friend - for allowing you to fall into the arms of another man - him. It’s all comical, truly.

“I would fuck you all day if you’d let me. Come home every night and fill you with my cum. How are you not pregnant yet?”

Jungkook’s babbling to himself, even if you could hear it. It’s questions he has asked himself time and time again - wondering why his friend would rather sleep with other girls when he had someone like you at home. You cooked every day and assured the home stayed just right. He would have put a baby in you - and of course married you; but this wasn’t about him now, was it?

Jungkook positions himself at your center and swallows. You’re clenching, ready to be stuffed.

“I bet you’d like to put a baby in me.” you tease, hips slightly wiggling for him to enter you. “Why don’t you?”

Jungkook growls. “Don’t tempt me with a good time, Y/N. You don’t know how many times I imagined you in my home.”

Maybe Jeon Jungkook was a bad friend for imagining said friend's girlfriend in his home cooking for him - or in his bed breeding her. BUT he had since stepped out on the relationship so karma would have to skip him, right? If anything, you being with him would be doing both of you a favor - you wouldn’t be cheated on and he would dote on you every chance he had.

Jungkook begins to enter you, shuddering at the tightness of your pussy. It engulfs him completely, as if shoving him in with whatever powers it held.

Shit.

Instantly, Jungkook begins to pound into you - you casted a spell, surely. Whatever you put in the food had caused him to be highly consumed by you entirely. Maybe a baby would be nice, right?

You weren’t expecting Jungkook to get right into it - neither were you against it. He holds your legs apart in a tight hold, cock pounding into you so heavenly that even you thought about giving the man what he has been imagining.

“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses when his eyes catch the white, creamy ring around his cock. “you haven’t been fucked good in so long. You’re milking my cock already.”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a pussy before you could’ve been fucking me.” you needed Jungkook to fuck you harder if possible. Making him mad and taunting him was an amazing way to start.

Jungkook’s eyes are furious, lust and anger swirling in them. “Maybe if you would’ve asked me to fuck you I would have.” he spits back, his thrust quickening. “You always looked so desperate, too.”

“I was.” your hand slap against his bare chest, but it doesn’t cause him to stop - no, if anything it makes him fuck into you even deeper at your retaliation. “You were desperate to fuck me, too.” you moaned when he hit that sweet spot that has never been touched before. “Like a little teenage boy.”

Neither of you notice the footsteps coming closer to the bedroom, far too entangled with one another's pleasure.

“I know when a bitch needs to be stuffed. Should’ve filled you with my cum years ago.” Jungkook flips you onto your stomach. He yanks your hair back so your back is perfectly arched - and then he takes you just as hard as before. “But tonight will be the night that I do what we both want, huh?”

“Fuck, you’re so deep.” your eyes snap shut, stomach forming knots. Your breast bounces in the rhythm of his powerful thrusts.

One hand in your hair while the other begins to play with your wet clit. Jungkook buries his head at the side of your neck, lips against your ear.

“You’re coming home with me tonight, Y/N. I’m going to breed you here, then you’re leaving with me.” It’s the sex and lust talking that's causing him to be so demanding and possessive, but you and him both go along with it. When the high was down, then maybe the two of you could talk with sense.

But as of right now - he was determined to put a baby in you without thinking of any consequences and stupidly, so were you.

“You’re gonna leave him right?” Jungkook asks, yanking your hair harder as his hips jut into you. “You’re gonna give me that baby you want me to put in you so bad and you’re gonna leave that sad excuse of a man.”

Your pussy clenches around him and your eyes manage to open. You’re shocked to see him at the door, eyes wide and watching his friend fuck you into oblivion all the while bad mouthing him.

“Y-Yes!” your juices leak down your thigh, overstimulated due to Jungkook’s fucking and aggressive rubbing along to your swollen clit. “Want your baby.”

You don’t break eye contact with the man - it’s evident that he’s shocked, but he cannot be angered. Not with you, at least, maybe with his friend.

“He could never fuck me like you. Never give me a baby.”

Now you were purposely taunting him, upset that this is when he decides to come home - but a bit glad that he gets to witness the end of an already crumbled relationship. You wonder how he feels witnessing his friend fuck you better than he ever could; with more passion.

You cum around Jungkook’s cock, juices leaking out of you and onto your bed and Jungkook isn’t far behind you. His thrust began to grow sloppy. He leans away from your neck, eyes glancing up at the figure watching them - the same figure of his former friend; one who had not spoken to him in months unbeknownst to you.

The friendship had ended months prior when Jungkook had suggested that he treat you better, in which he responded angrily that if he wanted you to be treated good so bad that he should have you, declaring that he would have nothing but his sloppy seconds. Never truly imagining that he would witness it happen before his eyes - he was just angry and drunk at the time when he spoke so harshly of you.

Jungkook cums inside of you, so deep and so much. His eyes never leave the shocked ones of his former friend at the door as the both of you allow the high to die down. “You’re coming home with me tonight.” he says, not asking but demanding.

You nod your head, eyes leaving that of your former boyfriend and they close as his (former) friend gently lays you down onto your bed.

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #btswritersclub #bangtanwritershq #bangtan smut #jungkook smut #bts cheating #explicit-tae #lick back #bangtanwriters net #btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #jungkook imagine #bts affair au

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