#i personally think she has more than one even tho that’s not the point
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That ask you got made me realize that Blitzø and Stolas both show 4 of those 5 responses at various points, which I think is very interesting. I really never thought about it before but that's actually pretty impressive bc it never seems "out of character" for them. I think Blitzø leans more towards fight tho we see a lot of fawning from him too, and I think Stolas leans more towards fawn but I guess Blitzø really did make him feel braver bc he shows a lot of fight too.
Fight: Blitzø in FM ballroom + after Striker steals the phone from Stolas + both fighting with and saving Fizz in Oops // Stolas confronting Stella on his balcony + most of his interactions with Striker in WE + most of his scenes in Truth Seekers
Flight: Blitzø avoiding Stolas once things got complicated + not giving Fizz the love letter // Stolas in FM hallway + trying to escape Striker in the café
Fawn: Blitzø to the client in Murder Family + in FM bedroom + trying to talk to Loona in Seeing Stars about her people skills // Stolas when Blitzø comments on his Ozzie's outfit + to Stella in LLL + in a lot of his texts to Blitzø post-Ozzie's
Freeze: both freeze up in Ozzie's + potentially Stolas in the FM ballroom bc we don't see him move except to flinch until the very end but that might just be him forcing himself to stop running
Listing it out like that also made me realize that those two spend a good chunk of the series some degree of scared, nervous, or feeling unsafe. These poor guys 😭😭
Yeah, once you start to think about how present their trauma is in their lives, you can't help but notice that they're both extremely traumatised and broken people. It's really sad, and really well done, in my opinion.
I really like how complex they both are and how many different symptoms of trauma they show—both survival reactions like the ones listed here, and just their thoughts and fears and how they handle their relationships.
What's really interesting and compelling to me is how similar they are despite how different their lives have been. And how the more episodes come out, the more obvious this becomes.
Like, up until now, we knew that Stolas often fawned to keep the peace for fear of being a burden or making others uncomfortable, like he did in his text messages to Blitz, and in Ozzie's when he immediately agreed to leave when Blitz said so. And we knew that Blitz hated himself, that his biggest fear was dying alone, that he couldn't even bear to look at his own face in pictures.
And then, in The Full Moon, we get Blitz going into an extremely childish and heartbreaking fawn spiral with his "I can always do better", making himself smaller, smiling, wagging his tail. And we get Stolas covering every single picture (and item) in his house, and then taking the time to uncover Via so she's visible, but not himself. And we get Stolas terrified of dying alone.
And to me, this conveys really well how no one's trauma is worse than others', how no traumatised person is more or less broken or hurt than the rest, how there's no "lesser" trauma. How traumatised people can't be neatly divided into "people who become sensitive and weak" and "people who develop thick skin". How your trauma may present differently and uniquely depending on the circumstances, but deep down the truth is always that you were deeply hurt, and you can't bear to be hurt again, and your life has become a constant cycle of trying (and failing, due to self-fulfilled prophecies) to avoid going through that pain again.
Truly, masterfully done ❤️
#helluva boss#helluva boss the full moon#blitz helluva boss#helluva boss blitz#stolitz#stolas helluva boss#helluva boss stolas#Trauma tw
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FRENZY ៸៸៸ part one
Jake is experiencing real love for the first time in his life. He’s so infatuated with you that he would do anything to make you understand. And you? Oh, you are in no place to argue with a man who appears to be perfect.
៸៸៸ part two here ៸៸៸ you must read both parts to get the full story
៸៸៸ sim jake x afab reader
៸៸៸ minors dni
៸៸៸ wordcount: 33k (part two: 14.2k)
៸៸៸ genre: stalker au, dark fic, slow burn, smut
៸៸៸ content tags: switch!stalker jake, he is gross but on a plus side he’s got a big shlong, obsession, panty stealing/sniffing, toothbrush sucking, shower water tasting, jealousy, manipulation, past trauma involving sa of reader, reader is manipulated into being obsessed with him too, trauma, jake is very insane, he’s thinks you need him to fix you, reader can be lifted and carried by him.
៸៸៸ !WARNINGS! there is intense trauma, past abuse, and conflict in this fic. It’s dark with mentions of noncon and dubcon, and an instance where jake keeps going after reader faints. Everything is consenting between the two but only because he is manipulative and a bad person. if you can’t handle it, don't read it.
៸៸៸ a/n: this was way way way longer than I anticipated it to be but i mean…….it’s slow burn so take it or leave it. anyway, huge shout out to @drunkhazed for not only encouraging me to write this every time I lost steam for it, but even helping me work out some of the details. i hope this fic was worth the wait even tho tumblr is forcing me to post it in two parts.
៸៸៸ nsfw tags under cut
៸៸៸ nsfw tags for the whole fic, as in both chapters: masochism (jake), sadism (reader and jake), overstimulation, painful masturbation, praise, worship, dirty talk, blowjob, finger fucking, pussy eating, riding, missionary, mating press, standing up sex yayyyyy, huge giant fat cock jake, deep penetration, unprotected sex, implied breeding, choking, hair pulling, suffocation, cock warming, crying, begging, hate sex, hitting (m receiving), squirting
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
It’s been days since he left his apartment. The skin around his fingernails have been chewed up, his eyes are red and heavy with sleep, and he still can’t bring himself to move from this spot. Disgusting as it may be, he loves it. It wasn’t like this before but that doesn’t matter too much to him right now.
The spot in front of his window has become his home within the apartment, a place where he can feel weightless and deserving of life’s pleasures. The sun is more bearable like this, the moon is prettier, even the rain sounds better now. The windowsill is lined with empty cans and food wrappers, a pile of laundry has been sitting in the corner since he started settling in this chair, and it’s gotten to the point now that nothing else in this apartment is of interest to him. Sleep comes easy in this chair too, so why move if he doesn’t have to?
He knows his last load of laundry is slowly molding over from not moving them into the dryer days ago, he knows his food is slowly going expired, and he’s aware now that bothering to wear clothes is pointless, they’ll just make the laundry pile bigger. He needs no distractions from this view, save for a quick bathroom trip and sprint to the front door to pick up his food orders. Each moment spent away from this space after five in the afternoon is a waste to him.
How did he get here? How did he get to this point in his life? You. You’re how he got here. It’s your fault for moving into the apartment next door, your fault for accepting a space within view of his bedroom window, and it’s your fault he waits all day for you to come home, learning your schedule day by day.
It started the day he forced himself out of bed. A Saturday afternoon. It was the first time he had the energy to do it after a month of barely moving, given that his recent breakup rendered him a shell of his former self. Recent to him anyway, it had been a year since she moved out, a year was like a day to him though. Time blurs when you’re shifting between resentment and numbness, and he really would have figured he'd have gotten over that breakup by then but he wasn’t. The words she last said to him resonated every minute of the day in his head, “he’s my brother!”, “you broke my phone?!”, “you’re fucking insane, Jake!”
It was a surprise to him that the man in her call log actually was her brother, but still a man at that and he didn’t like it. She was to be loyal to one man. Him. Only him. And she wasn’t, but none of that mattered to him after he got out of bed that Saturday afternoon.
When he stood to his feet and began to dig through his closet for a shirt that didn’t smell like stale depression, it was much the same as any other day when he had the energy to do this. This time though, he opened his blinds and nearly fell on his ass at the warm sun boring through his window at him. He stood there feeling the warmth for a moment before his eyes adjusted enough to look around at the lively streets below.
Even through his displeased huff, he stayed looking. If anyone cared to notice, this would be a good sign coming from him. One that shows that maybe he’s thinking about going out for once. Maybe he wants to call up an old friend that he hasn’t spoken to in almost a year and catch up on those lively streets. And you know, maybe that could have happened if it weren’t for the fact that something else catches his eye.
Directly across the street sits a much nicer apartment building, and in his direct line of sight is a large window with opened blinds. Inside, stood you. He didn’t know you at the time, of course he didn’t, but at that moment he instantly knew that he had to know you. It was like slow motion, a rush of euphoria streaming in his veins as he looked at you for the first time. After so long in a slump, resenting and vibrating hate toward an ex, seeing you was like a glass of cold water during a drought. Even from so far away he knew you had a pretty face. Even from here, he knew you’d want to meet him too.
An immediate attachment he felt, to a stranger across the street unknowing of his existence.
And that’s how he got to this point, growing so fond of watching you through that window day after day. It’s been weeks now since he started, and only the past two days have rendered him unable to move from the spot. He’s lucky his parents fund this apartment for him under the guise of him getting a degree that he no longer attends classes for. Because, well, he doesn’t want to miss a single moment with you. He’s growing so planted to this uncomfortable computer chair and barely caring because when you come home at five in the evening every day, this chair becomes much more comfortable to him. Almost as if it doesn’t exist, hell, he’s practically floating when he watches you.
It’s your own fault he’s like this. It’s your fault you leave those blinds open, it’s your fault for walking around in close to nothing within the safety of your own home. If you didn’t want him to watch you do it, surely you would have closed the blinds by now.
You’re practically inviting him.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
It’s a given that within those weeks of watching you his obsession hit peak insanity by the time he ended up planted in place by the window. Now though, he’s making plans in his head, because he knows it’s not healthy to just watch. He knows he deserves more than just feeling himself up as he imagines being in that spacious apartment across the street with you. By now, the relief his hand offers pisses him off. He wonders more and more every day what you smell like, what you feel like, how warm you must be. He deserves to know.
Such a pretty girl all alone over there, maybe you need some protecting from the other strange men probably watching you too. Jake isn’t strange though, he just likes you. A lot. Enough now to leave this chair in front of the window when he knows you’ll be at work. Enough to actually get up and shower, enough to start working out again in front of that window just in case you arrive home early. Enough to know your schedule like the back of his hand. Enough to clean his apartment, to throw out his building piles of trash, to shave and touch up his grown out hair.
Enough to follow you to the grocery store and purchase the exact things you purchase, cooking later what he presumed to be your dinner and eating it with you there at the window.
It’s gotten to that point, where his confidence is high and he feels as though it’s time. It’s time to stop waiting around but he needs to know more about you before meeting you officially. That’s the only road block by this time and he can only think of one way to do this. After all, he doesn’t even know your name in order to look you up online.
So, its early Monday morning and he knows you’ve got work for at least eight hours and, well, he’s got a fucking need.
He watches you in the window before you leave for work, his room now dramatically different than before. Clean. He looks in the mirror, proud of the way he looks now with his stylishly messy hair and skin moisturized. You’d like him better like this, right?
He doesn’t even grab a bag to bring with him, because he knows if he forgets anything he brings, you’d take note of someone being there. You might become hyper aware, you might find out it was him in the future. There are too many risks in that. So, he just brings himself, which should be enough.
Going outside was an experience as it always was for him. He always feels so out of place and so entirely alone when he walks near other people. Always wondering if they see him too much or not at all. Thankfully, your apartment is just across the street and it’s a quick trip to get inside of the building. He knew the security here is trash, after all, he’s watched this building door for so long by now, that even if he were to be stopped, he’d know how to get inside anyway. He sees the side doors, the ladder in the alley way, all of it.
When he steps inside, part of him almost wants to turn back and purchase a small camera to hide in your apartment. He slaps himself on the forehead for not thinking of that sooner, but he’s already here so he might just have to take note of that for later.
With a polite smile he nods to a single security guard and receives a stern nod back. His insides are crawling with energy at how easy this is, and he feels fucking giddy. As he works his way up, entering wrong floor after wrong floor, he finally lands his feet on your floor. He can tell because he double checks, and then triple checks by looking out of the big hallway windows and finding his own apartment straight across the way.
He smiles wide at the apartment doors, noting the lack of code entry locks and finding simple turn-key locks. This is perfect, because he practiced a skill for this specific purpose. Lock-picking. He hopes it comes in handy as he pulls out his miniature tools.
That practice did come in handy, and he smiles to himself with a near sob of happiness at the sound of what he presumed to be your apartment door unlocking. Intelligent, that’s what he is.
He steps inside and instantly he is dizzy. He was right, he was fucking spot on. This is your apartment, and he can’t help but stand in the doorway frozen at the very thought that he fucking did it. He made it in and now your apartment is his for the next few hours if he so wishes.
The first thing he does is go to your window and gaze across the street. Seeing his own window from here felt surreal, thinking back to all of those nights he came undone to the thought of standing in this exact spot. His body reacts quickly to the space, twitching in his pants at the adrenaline he feels.
If there is anywhere in the world he could be right now, this would be the exact spot. He hasn’t felt this excited in a long time, even compared to when he first saw you and his heart went from rotting to filling with love. It’s hard at this moment for him to turn around and look somewhere other than his view of that all-too-familiar window of his, but he manages. He’s slow to turn around, taking in each breath with intention, every glance burning into his memory. From the open curtains, to the open blinds just behind them, to the dull color of the paint on your walls.
He smiles as he notes that your apartment is clean, almost obsessively so. It’s also much nicer compared to his own even when it was brand new. You seem to like candles, apple and sugar cookie scented candles. He can tell from the amount littered around the open living room and kitchen. The dull scent dragging his senses into euphoria. You also seem to like plants, you like shoes, you like plushies.
He nods as he takes note of everything in your apartment before sauntering out of the living space and toward the hallway. There, he enters the bathroom first.
Clean still, save for a pile of dirty clothes thrown carelessly into the corner. Before he focuses too much on that pile of clothing though, he stares at your shower, taking note of the other scents you’re drawn to before trailing his fingers along the shower wall. Still damp from your morning shower, he presumes. He lets himself feel the sensation of the droplets soaking his fingertips, running it along several areas of the wall before pulling his hand back. He looks at his glistening fingers for a few moments, preparing himself for a new sensation as he places his fingers to his lips. Sucking in the remnants of your shower and humming. Then, ecstatic with the taste, it’s easy for him to balance himself against the wall and bring his face close to a few more unbothered droplets, licking them into his mouth and relishing in the feeling of the cold shower wall against his tongue. His cheeks dampen through the act, and even when he pulls back for a moment, he can’t bear to wipe away the condensation.
It tastes like water, but it’s your water. And as he continues to suckle against the wall, he finally pulls back and places his fingers back into his mouth to suck off any last remaining droplets. His eyes now flick to that pile of laundry. Based on your cleanliness in the rest of the apartment, he assumes you’ll probably wash these later, which is a fucking waste. He confirms in his head the loss it would be not to take something, and so, he plans to.
Fingers still in his mouth, he fumbles with his other hand to shove each piece of clothing up to his face, inhaling the scent of your sleep because these were clearly the pajamas he saw you wearing last night. The scent is dull but he swears he can smell your skin on this fabric and it’s enough to cause another twitch in his pants. His cock already growing heavy and sensitive in the confines of his pants.
Finally, the pair of panties. Worn, crumpled on the floor in a presentation too beautiful to resist. He drops your shorts carelessly to grab at them, his fingers leaving his mouth just to smear across the seat of the garments before instantly he’s sighing out in a soft moan. Nuzzling his lips and nose into them, inhaling for an even longer time compared to the other articles of clothing. It’s as if he’s inhaling a deep hit from a blunt, the scent making him dizzy and entirely hot in the face. He could cry, honestly, as he dips his tongue out just for a moment to taste. Heightening his sensations of you. It was euphoric feeling them in his hand, against his face, in his mouth. Even more so with the scent of them, worn from the day and clearly needing a wash. It was relieving to him in some way, fondling the panties seems to push him further from the reality he’s in, sending his mind into colorful image after image of what these must have looked like clinging to your pussy.
He’s quick to stuff them into his pocket after he gets his fill, forgetting only for a moment that there’s more to explore and that he can’t just sit here all day and jerk off to a single pair of panties. He’s sure you have more for him somewhere. And with that, he moves his eyes to your bathroom counter.
Gazing at your toothbrush momentarily, he fights off the idea of taking that too. Ultimately deciding that you’d definitely think something was off if that went missing.This doesn’t prevent him from touching though, as he reaches forward and runs his fingers along the bristles. Just as suspected, it’s still damp too from your morning routine. The sensation of the bristles along his fingers is somehow more arousing than anything else right now, and it’s hard for him to hold back. His cock is now heavy in his pants, leaking against his zipper and begging to be let out. He holds back still though, even as he brings the toothbrush up to his lips much like your other items. He takes in a deep breath first before licking along the handle up to the bristles. Still tastes like toothpaste, and the taste is far too overpowering to be able to taste you. Still, his hips lunge forward against the counter as he tastes another part of you.
He stays like that for a while, hips pressing forward every few seconds in search of the friction his zipper offers, and your toothbrush hanging from his mouth as he rummages around your drawers and cabinets.
By the time he has searched every inch of your bathroom, he finally places your toothbrush back into its place and stares at it for a moment longer. If you continue to use it, it’s like you’re kissing him. He hopes you like it as much as he does. And just like that, his interest in the bathroom is gone. Excitement bubbles up yet again, knowing that he still has more of your space to explore for his own pleasure. He adjusts his length in his pants and sighs with a dazed smile and leaves the bathroom almost exactly as you left it.
Quietly, he goes further down the hallway. There's only one other room and he just knows that it’s your bedroom, that much is clear. You always keep these blinds closed but sometimes he can see your shadow when you turn on your light at night. This is where he wants to be right now, and upon opening that door, he’s immediately hit with another new scent. Home.
He doesn’t waste his time indulging himself here, throwing himself forward onto your bed, face down, and instantly groaning at the feeling of his sore cock hitting your mattress under his own weight. By this point, it’s weeping with pre-cum and staining his jeans with a large dampened spot. The feeling is so much to handle as he lays there trying to breathe through the raw feeling of how badly he wants to fuck something. How badly he wants to fuck you.
He laughs to himself in the bliss of your scent as he tears up, gripping your duvet and covering his face with it. He breathes heavily as his gleefully aroused tears begin to soak into the fabric. Then, because of course he would, he gags himself by stuffing that very same duvet past his lips. He closes his eyes now, imagining that you let him in, you’re here with him, you’re here under him. The scent of apples and cookies would be drenching the air, your panties would be wet and begging to be off of you. Fuck, he wants to consume these sheets the same way he wants to consume you.
Immediately, he sucks on the fabric with a lift to the corner of his lips, smiling as he tastes the closest thing in this apartment to your body save for the panties in his pocket. He feels like he’s floating right now, and he would be a fool to hold off any longer. He wants to have his way here, hoping that you don’t notice the stains he plans to leave behind. Hoping you sleep on them, hoping you sit your bare pussy against the same spot he intends to fuck as hard as he would fuck you.
He slides a hand down between his body and the mattress and dips into his pants with a visible shiver, finally offering himself relief. Long and slender fingers making their way around his length and instantly he’s unable to keep quiet. His eyebrows lift in relief at the feeling, rubbing his tongue raw against your duvet with his muffled moans, writhing wildly as he begins to fuck forward. His ears are ringing, his finger tips are burning against his own arousal, and he doesn’t think he’s ever been so fucking happy in his life than he is right now.
As he continues, his wrist is being rubbed raw much like the head of his cock and his tongue. So many sensations come from the fabric you provide and, god, he loves it. He can’t help it when he aggressively shoves his pants down, allowing his pre-cum to spurt out of him, instantly staining your sheets and causing him to pick up the pace. Fucking against his hand and humping with no real rhythm.
His moans come out in short, muffled whimpers. Your blanket in his mouth makes the sound more pathetic than it already would have been, but he loves the way the sounds echo off of your walls. It’s like he was meant to be in this room doing this. Like this is the only room he should be intimate in, whether it be with himself or you. He wants to moan like this not just because of you but, for you. He wants you to play with him, he wants you to fucking destroy him, mocking his overly sensitive cock until he’s crying.
His mind is spinning as he fucks forward with these images in his head, the scent of you only drives him further and further from the reality at hand. He sobs only a little when he pushes the duvet out of his mouth, quickly replacing that with your pillow. He buries his face into it so hard that he nearly can’t breathe. The lack of oxygen hitting him second by second until he’s gasping for the same warm air that’s being trapped by the plush pillow, his orgasm bubbles up quickly with each jerk of his body.
Faster and faster he fucks into his palm, paying no mind to the burn on the under side of his cock that repeatedly rubs against the sheets. His muffled breath now comes out in short cries of laughter as he feels his release approaching. He chases it aggressively, violently. He wants his cock to fucking ache for you.
And it does, a mixture of searing heat and release hitting him all at once. He can’t breathe as his body stutters against your sheets, his pathetic cock continuously releasing a greedy amount just for you to sleep soundly in later.
Then he just lays there, feeling every last drop leave him and make a home within your sheets and mattress. All he can do is grin as he tries to catch his breath, rolling over and feeling his already-spent cock pulse at the cold air that hits it. He lifts his head to look down at it, noting how red it is even as it softens up. Again, he’s floating right now. He can’t believe he managed to get inside, he can’t believe he has your panties, he can’t believe he’s even tasted you.
Through his blissed out state, his eyes begin to travel around your room as he comes down from his high. Heart pounding still, he realizes he didn’t comprehend a single corner of this room the second he saw your bed. It was like he cared about nothing, it was like he died and went to heaven, and he wouldn’t have it any other way save for you being on this bed with him.
Then, his eyes land on your dresser and he’s careful when he stands up to balance himself, tucking his length half back into his pants and wincing at the sensitivity. Jackpot. Jake’s attention is solely focused on your dresser now, wobbling over and trying to pretend that his body isn’t still shaking from his recent orgasm.
He’s in a world of euphoria again, immediately after having gotten off so quickly within the sheets of your bed, and now as he rifles through your panty drawer, his sensitive cock is twitching with embarrassing interest. He laughs at himself and the way he could probably fuck you repeatedly for hours at this point. Never has he been so ready to come again a mere minute and a half after already having done it once. He holds off though, pocketing a few more pairs of your panties before turning his attention to your closet.
There, he notes the fashion you like, the shoes you have hidden probably for nights out, and…oh.
Sex toys.
He glares at them for a moment, wondering if you only have these because you’ve yet to realize how badly you’d want him to do it for you. This leads him to believe that you must be desperate for touch, for love, and surely he could make you feel better than a piece of soft rubber, surely you wouldn’t need these if you have him, right?
He grabs one with a huff and inspects it for use. Upon realizing this has been well loved by you, he removes the batteries and pockets those too, solely because he refuses any competition when it comes to you. Another mental note to find any and every battery in this apartment so that this toy becomes useless to you and your pussy. After all, you’re his now and it’s only a matter of time before you realize it.
He shakes his head in disappointment at his findings before tossing the toy back into the space he found it and turning his attention to your desk. After all, he’s lost all interest in this closet simply for containing items that offer you pleasure. At least at your desk, he might find some deeper information about you.
And God, it’s like you knew he was going to be here. He smiles, his heart swelling at your kindness of leaving your journal right here in the open for him. Inside is a page bookmarked with what he assumes to be junk mail.
There’s your full name though, glistening in the dark space of his brain that was dying to be filled with information about you. He whispers it to himself, loving the way the tip of his tongue tingles at the act of saying it out loud for the first time. His heart flutters as he runs his fingers along the plastic window of the envelope, repeating your name several times, as if to conjure your spirit up right here, right now, to bask in his post-orgasm glory of love for you.
He’s almost got all of the information he needs with this simple envelope. He knows exactly where you live obviously, your full name, what you like, your favorite scents, and now all he needs is–
He pauses as his eyes fall to the page marked in your journal, damn. It seems to be your most recent entry, and you really let it all out in these pages. His own ex-therapist suggested he start keeping journals too, but fuck no. That’s too much work for him. He doesn’t like giving himself that type of attention either, but thank god you keep one.
Your self written bible, with all the information in the world about you coming from your own hand, your own brain, is right here in the palm of his hand and it’s not hard for him to decide what to do with it.
Just like that, an hour passes as he starts from the beginning and works through your thoughts starting from early last year. Right around the time his ex-girlfriend left him, the bitch.
The deeper into this journal he goes, the more he learns. Intimate things, fucked up things. He almost laughs at your pain, how silly of you to love someone when he was here all along. You had your heart broken, met someone who fixed you, then he destroyed you even more than the first man. Silly you, choosing the wrong people and letting yourself be hurt enough to write about it.
It’s not until he reads what your recent ex did to you that he starts to really feel something. Anger. So much fucking anger that a man touched you like that. He hurt you like that, then left you feeling torn apart and, as you wrote, “dead inside”. The anger is so strong as he grips your journal and nearly crumples the page. He wants to rip it out, to erase it from your life so you forget it ever even happened. You wouldn’t need to remember all of this if you’d let him in.
But he can’t just rip this page from your life, because you’d notice. These are your deepest secrets, surely you’d be on high alert if something like this were to go missing. So, he opts to read it again, and again, and again, searing it into his memory like a mantra of you and your life. A mantra of why you need him, and why the universe is putting you in front of him.
Now, the further and further he reads, the pages are filled by this man who hurt you. He can practically smell the tears you shed when writing these shaky words. Detailing each painful touch, each emotion and moment of dissociation that happened to you during that time. There’s something about the way you write your pain that arouses him just as much as everything else you do.��
Perhaps it's the anger of you being taken advantage of in that way, or perhaps it’s because he’s reading each fine detail and wishing he was you, and you were the ex. He wants you to hurt him the way you’ve been hurt, the thought alone is enough to make him fall deeper, and harder in love with you. He wants to feel everything you’ve felt.
In his mind, you’re doing this to him. He wants you to hurt him that way so badly. He wants you to have him broken and crying, with all the power in the world because it’s what you deserve. Because of him, you will forget what happened to you. He will fix you, and you will break him.
The more he reads, the more he fantasizes. It’s not your pain, it’s his now, except he would never tell you to stop. He’d be begging for more, more, more. In his head, yes, you’re on top of him and gagging him with your fingers so he can’t cry out. You’re the one hitting him and taking him for all he’s worth. You’re the one calling him dirty names and forcing a painful orgasm through his body.
The image in his head right now is so beautiful, and it’s all you. The man no longer exists in his thoughts as he stares down at your words, another flash of a smile crossing his lips as he snakes his hand down his pants for the second time, because this time he can’t resist it. The words appear more like an erotic novel rather than your own painful trauma. He finds it easy when he checks out of reality, each drag of his palm up his cock sending waves of warmth through his body with each new word he reads.
He likes the way you write “fuck”, he loves the way you write, “I deserved better.” He adores you so much, he wants you to say those things to him. Even if he would never hurt you, he would be more than willing to let you hurt him, to let you be the aggressor, to ruin him and make him bleed.
His fingers squeeze around his length harder as he feels his legs attempt to buckle. He allows himself to fall to his knees on your floor, gripping the journal like it’s his last life line in this world.
His eyes shoot across the paper and he’s biting against his bottom lip so hard that he can taste the metallic flavor of blood as he takes in every pen stroke. That taste of blood only becomes more obvious to him when he begins to whine at his own grip against his cock. It’s not enough, and it will never be enough until you’re the one ruining him. He grips tighter, bouncing up on his knees to chase the feeling as he works himself up, only briefly losing the ability to read when he rolls his eyes back at the desperate feeling of needing you here with him to hold onto. His entire body is burning up, pulsing aggressively, and yet, still shivering at the cold and lonely air within your apartment.
Then his eyes are right back down on your journal, his hips continuing to chase. He’s not alone, you’re here with him, you are surrounding him entirely right now. This is the air you breathe into, and the gasps he takes with the realization are deep and intentional as he swallows up the air in this room until it feels suffocating.
“Part of me wishes I wanted it, It would have hurt less, I think.” You had written one day last week.
He groans at your boldness, poking his tongue to his cheek with a frustrated moan.
“At least I left the city. Mom told me to change my number too, but I haven't done that yet. I hope he can never find me again.”
Jake smiles with a clenched jaw, because that man won’t ever find you again. Not with him by your side. He will protect you, he will make damn sure that any man who wants you can’t have you.
He edges himself for a bit this time, after having gotten off so quickly before. He wants this one to be drawn out, he wants it to fucking hurt, and it does already. His sensitive length is twitching against the pre-dampened denim it’s being restricted by, his knuckles are red and raw from hitting the zipper of his pants, and the inside of his lip is still bleeding. Finally, he skews his pants down just enough to let his length spring free.
The suffocating air of your apartment wraps around him so beautifully, and once again he’s shivering and letting out a chuckle. It feels so good. It feels so much better when he’s here and not stuck in his apartment. It feels amazing reading your words of pain, putting himself in your position and wishing so much for you to take this frustration out on him.
He edges, and edges. Fucking up, then strangling the base of his cock to prevent orgasm. God, it feels so hot, so good that it becomes harder each time he does it. Again and again, until the shadows of your curtains shift in position, until he feels like his head might explode, and that’s when he realizes he has been reading, sometimes the same page over and over again, for hours and at least an hour more fucking himself.
Surely you’ll be getting off from work soon, but he’s so close. He’s so, so, fucking close to you right now and he can’t bare to end it just yet. The images of your past burns in his gut, and despite being in your space, he truly is so far away. He cannot imagine your face up close, and only imagines the silhouette of you, the shape of you that he’s seen so many times before. Every image is from a street away, and still it’s so unfathomably arousing to think you could use him as your diary. You could whisper your painful little thoughts into his mouth and let him swallow them up, let him erase them from your life.
Take this rage out on him. Hit him. Make him suffer the way you did, he would love that. Giving you such an outlet, and loving it more and more each time.
He fucks up once, hard, and for the last time he squeezes against his weeping cock so tightly as if to prevent himself from releasing. His body can’t take it anymore though, he loses all control even through his tightened grip at the base of his cock. Still, he manages to focus his eyes down at your journal, placing it directly against the underside of his cock, and there, he lets go. Strings of white shooting out past the journal and onto your carpet, seeping in almost instantly as he lets out a long and choked out moan. Raspy and raw, he can barely recognize his own voice.
The sweat on his brow drips down as he shakes through the most intense orgasm he thinks he’s ever had, vibrating moans coming out as pained whimpers as he continues to pump himself empty against the pages of your trauma. Then, he pulls your journal up to his lips in a last attempt to show how desperate he is at this moment. He closes it, licking up the spine of the book before dropping it to the floor in exhaustion.
His mind and body has never been so stimulated by another person. Despite you not even being in this room to physically do it for him, he feels as though he’s just professed a profound love for you and you accepted it. He’s left himself all over your space, marking you, marking his territory, swearing to his shaking soul that he will never let another person touch you.
The only pain you should ever feel again is when your palms sting from swelling his skin before kissing it better.
As he sits, coming back to himself, still trembling from pleasure and overwhelming adoration, his eyes scan further around your room and note all of the little trinkets of personality you like to show to yourself.
A list of movies you’ve watched dangles, pinned on a cork board by your tv, and next to that is a list of movies you haven’t gotten to watch yet. On the other side of him is a bookshelf, containing a variety of novels, manga, magazines, cds, and even a few little figurines of characters that must bring you comfort.
All of these things, the scents you like, the colors you like, the books, movies, shows, music. It burns into his memory the same way you did when he first saw you.
It doesn’t matter that his body feels weak at this moment, his mind will never be calm when he’s thinking of you. These forms of entertainment are now his favorite things. His fingers struggle to pull out his phone, and struggle more to find his notes app.
There, he stays for an hour more. Typing and retyping everything he can see, smell, and touch. Every single movie, every single music disk, every single manga, magazine, and book. He will love them as much as he loves you, and he will be the person you seem to need so badly in your life.
And then, as he glances up to the tiny, bastard of a digital block on his phone, reality sets in. He needs to leave now.
Thankfully enough, you’re right on schedule as usual. He’s crossing the street to his own apartment when he catches the scent of you carried by the wind, and right there, he glances. For the first time seeing you a little closer than usual.
He doesn’t know if you look happy, sad, or exhausted, all he knows is that you’re truly a feast for his eyes as he stares a few moments too long and you make eye contact with him.
Then….you smile.
You smile at him, with a small wave as you walk through the building’s doors with not a clue in the world that the kind faced, handsome, stranger you just made eye contact with was worshiping the very air you breathe.
For him, that smile managed to ignite something else in him that he didn’t even know he had. Perhaps a feeling of confirmation? No, maybe it was validation? Either way, the pep in his step is at least an inch higher than it’s ever been as he makes his way up to his home, and finds himself right back at the window.
He feels satisfied, happy, and maybe even a bit sleepy as he watches you from across the street. Standing where he just stood, disappearing to what he now knows is the bathroom.
With all the new information, surely it won’t be the last or only time he’ll be in that room with or without you. Now, he can meet you as the best version of himself. The best version of the person you would love.
Perhaps now, he can accidentally run into you enough times that you’ll have no choice but to face an introduction, and right then and there, he will be the perfect man for you. You’ll invite him in, you’ll share all of those secrets with him, and you will love him.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Buying a camera was easy, and setting it up against his window so that he never had to risk missing a single second with you was even easier. Especially because now he had studying to do.
Movies, shows, music, books, all of it. He delved in for days, living the lives of other people through the media you seemed to love so much. Through all of it, he paid most attention to the romantic aspect of each bit of entertainment you seem to enjoy the most in your free time.
He learns how these men kiss their significant others, he studies how they look at each other and express their emotions. In the music, he listens and anticipates that he can make you feel better than these songs do. In the books, even the horror related ones, he focuses on the emotional aspect and forces himself to learn these expressions.
Love and hate aren’t the only two emotions he should be feeling, but they are for the most part. Save for things like jealousy, arousal, and entitlement. He needs to learn sympathy. Empathy, passion, contentedness, melancholy. There is a vast array of emotions he needs to master, and he can’t help but feel like that’ll just take far too long.
As he is, he loves you. As you are, he loves you. You should love him the same, and you will love him the same. After all, he already loves the same movies, books, and music. What else could you possibly ask for from him, outside of a burning loyalty driven by passion? Outside of never laying a hand on you, nor letting another person within ten feet of you if you so much as blink at him lovingly?
It’s as if weeks passed when he started watching you through the recorded footage. Really though, it’s only been a week because he can still smell the scent of you on those dainty little panties each time he wraps them around his sore cock. They satisfy him plenty when he uses your other, cleaner garments that he took from your dresser against his lips.
Each night since he was in your apartment, he’s fucked into these panties, remembering the taste of your shower water and toothpaste, and each night he grows more and more weary of when he can have more.
Still, these panties are getting him through this difficult period of down time, the anticipation that soon enough, you’ll smile at him again is enough to not jump for the opportunity to get back into your apartment just yet. Because soon, you’ll probably invite him in next time too, maybe even let him taste you rather than a simple remnant of you.
Even your social media drives him to learn quicker. It’s private, of course, and all he has to go off of is that pixelated image of you, your interests, the burning images of your trauma, your name, age, address, and used panties. Sure, he’s satisfied for the time being but he knows for a fact that this “content” feeling will only continue to fade away and be replaced with the intense need to just fucking meet you.
He knows you’re hiding from someone, and that someone just so happens to not be him. So, he’s the one man in the world you could ever hope to meet anyway. A protector, a lover, a fierce defender and an outlet for all of your pain.
And oh, what great news is it that just a mere two days later that content feeling does, indeed, run out! Not only does he feel well equipped to be your forever soulmate, but when he looks at himself in the mirror, still fond of now trimming and taking care of himself, he’s gotta say that he plays the part well on both fronts.
It’s another Saturday afternoon, this time he takes the time to sit by the window and watch the shadow of you through that closed bedroom curtain. He wonders how often you wash your sheets, or clean your carpet, or lose your batteries to your stupid fucking sex toys.
Surely the remnants of him are still there, surely you’re used to his scent by now. You won’t be afraid when he steps out around the same time you do. You definitely won’t think it’s strange that he just so happens to be grocery shopping too, or that he’s needing the same ingredients you are needing. Maybe you’ll like it when he brushes his hand against yours when going for the same tomato.
He’s confident, and he’s ready. That’s for sure.
What he wasn’t ready for though, is how outgoing you are.
Naturally, he smells you before he sees you. Hyper aware that every person on the street that isn’t you just ends up invisible to him anyway. He doesn’t intentionally walk into you, acting as if he’s going the opposite way. Except he does.
The first touch of your body to his is nothing but a mere “accident”. The soft padding of your jacket collides with his hoodie, and still he swears he could feel the blood pumping through your veins at that moment. His entire body erupts in goosebumps at the first touch, he sighs out at the intentional mishap, not yet making eye contact with you.
He falls back only slightly, raising his hands in defense and mock apology. Right there on the street, not even a block from the two buildings both of you call home.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even–” He goes to say, mind blanking the moment he does look at you, and you look back at him.
You’re right there. He can feel your energy hit him in the chest, as if that little collision was nothing less than a car hitting him at full speed. His breath is caught in his throat as he takes in your image up close for the first time.
You look….frail. Not like a sickly-frail, but the kind of frail that only comes with emotional baggage. You look sleepy, with your cold cheeks and watering eyes from the icy wind hitting them. So badly does he want to grip you and pull you into his chest. He wants to hold you, he wants to keep you warm, he wants to kiss those shivering lips and hold those shaking hands.
You’re a mere foot away from him and his heart is already exploding. Standing in awe, oblivious to the fact that he has lost his ability to control the situation upon looking at you, because now all he can think about is giving you everything in the world.
Then, you glance away from him and speak.
“No, no.” You look to the ground after that brief eye contact and seem to shy away from the interaction. “I shouldn’t have been looking at my phone.” You continue to stare at the ground, gripping your bag close to you out of instinct rather than fear or anxiety.
“Likewise.” Jake smiles, trying to refrain composure and softening his voice. Still, he burns the image of you into his corneas and memorizes the pitch of your voice. “Hey…” He adds, trailing off a bit and dipping his head to draw your eyes up to him in a friendly way.
“I think I’ve seen you before, do you live around here?”
You pause. He’s just a friendly stranger with a tender voice but the brief glimpse you had of him did seem familiar.
“You seem kind of familiar too?” You question, easing your tense body and looking up at him with another smile, this time more awkward. Mostly because you definitely avoided his question.
“Huh, small world.” He shrugs, offering little to no context to that statement before shifting the balance on his feet and stiffening at the harsh wind that picks up.
This is the moment in which any normal person would say their goodbyes, last apologies, and be on their way. Jake is too in love to comprehend what normal people would do though.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I forgot my wallet at home and was running back to grab it before the market gets packed with college kids trying to buy all of their weekend alcohol. I really didn’t mean to run into you like that.”
God, he feels like a robot saying it. He did mean to run into you, and he didn’t forget his wallet.
“Oh! I’m actually on my way to the store.” You admit, trying to appreciate his explanation and press the idea of forgiving and forgetting. “So you live close by then?” You add, feeling better asking him where he lives rather than stating your own place of residence.
“Yeah, I live over there.” He points at the building across from yours, silently taking a step closer.
The chill in the air is harsh, but the way you don’t move back from him is much softer and easier to swallow as a man on a mission.
When you perk up at recognizing his apartment building, it’s very telling. Well, to him it is, but to anyone else he could assume they wouldn’t have picked up on that slight blink of surprise he caught.
“Huh,” You state casually. “Well, I’m going to go pick up some groceries too. I walk this same way back, do you want me to spot you on your groceries as my own apology for not paying attention?”
Partially, you do this because you want to be alone, and upon meeting this man who is running the same errand as you, you think you may feel too awkward to go through your daily plan running into him again. Plus, he lives right across from you, and you find yourself not wanting him to know where you live.
To him though, outgoing may be an understatement. You’re offering to not only shop for him, but to drop it off at the desk? You’re inviting yourself into his space?!
“Don’t be silly, I’ll just run and grab my wallet and I’ll be right back out. I can help you carry your things. It’s not safe for a lady to be walking alone on a Saturday anyway.” He assures you, stiffening up his shoulders in the wind and smiling at you.
You don’t know how to reject his offer, as awkward as it is, and somehow as comforting as it is. Solely because he just confirmed your silent anxieties about being in this city alone. You do this walk to the market every weekend, and despite you slowly becoming accustomed to the area, you never truly feel safe doing it alone.
Should you reject the offer and go back home? You have enough snacks to last you the night and you can just go to the market tomorrow. And even with those thoughts in your head, you wonder why you nod to him, and you wonder why you step back toward the building behind you and lean against it as if you’ll wait for him.
You shiver at the wind as he nods to you and jogs to the very same building he pointed out before disappearing inside of it, and all you can do is internally panic at how pathetic you are. You should not be inviting this random man to walk with you, or to carry your things for you. He’s going to know where you live. What if your ex set this up? You wouldn’t put it past him for a second.
Then you think a little deeper…perhaps you’re comforted by this man’s calm and somewhat genuine kindness. You’re not amazing at reading people, clearly, but he seems to be kind. Still, you’re too afraid to tell another person “no” these days out of fear that they will be angry.
You’re now hyper aware of your surroundings, wondering if the threat looms elsewhere, or if you just invited the threat to walk you to the supermarket.
You have no choice but to take the chance though, with the way he mentioned that you shouldn’t be walking alone on a weekend. You’d be paranoid with or without a stranger escorting you, especially after returning home from work last week and swearing your apartment felt different. Your anxiety regarding your ex is at an all time high.
Should you even want to reject this small situation of possible safety? It’s still known, to you at least, that your ex hasn’t been able to find you, nor has he texted or called you since your first week of living in this city.
Finally, you decide to just try and relax. If you show your fear, perhaps this man will turn on a dime and take advantage like everyone tends to do with you. Even if you don’t remember leaving your apartment door unlocked last week, even if you don’t remember misplacing your batteries for a particular item in your closet.
You can’t just assume every new, kind, and handsome face is working with your ex. You can’t just let your fear continue to control your life.
At least with this new face, and the security in your building being well aware of your safety concerns, you nor your personal space could be violated inside of your own home at the very least.
Outside though? On the streets with dozens of others? The risk is high, and you aren’t even sure if you have the capability to run fast enough or react fast enough with the little safety keychain you keep in your hand, buried in your puffy jacket pocket.
By this point, you’re more afraid to walk alone than you are to walk with this nameless man. Saying no to him would only result in another evening walk full of paranoia, then again, walking with him still brings a whole different type of paranoia. That is, until he comes running back up to you with that same warm smile, hands tucked into his hoodie, and the promise of some sort of protection at least for this grocery run.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“So,” Jake starts after several long minutes of walking with you in silence. “Do you always walk alone at night?”
You nod to him quietly, about to say something before he sighs and shakes his head.
“That’s brave. You must be new to this side of town because it’s not exactly the safest for you to just be wandering around by yourself.”
It’s obvious to Jake that this is only a half truth, but he knows what you’re running from by being here and he can’t help but ensure future endeavors with you, even if just to have you need him each time you leave your apartment. He would gladly walk you to the moon and back if you so much as considered it an option.
“Oh, really?” You respond with slight distress. “I moved here because of the safety ratings. I wasn’t aware that it was an actual concern outside of me just worrying too much.”
He picks up on it.
“Every city is dangerous if you think about it. You know where my building is if you need it though. Just let me know if you ever need someone to usher you back and forth.”
You scoff almost, laughing at the implication that you’d consider that an option.
“Please, that would be so inconvenient and inconsiderate for me to do. Besides, I have this nifty little keychain!” You smile, trying to make light of the situation and the anxiety his words of your bravery are bringing to you.
“That is pretty nifty,” He laughs, eyeing your keychain and watching you put it back into your pocket. “Can’t imagine that keychain would stop anyone though.” He adds with a light and casual tone, only because he knows that the keychain couldn’t stop him. “Plus, it’s not inconsiderate. I’m much more effective than that keychain of yours.”
There is a deep fear instilled in you at his words, ones that make you curl in on yourself internally. Maybe you really couldn’t protect yourself without someone next to you. You slow your pace for a moment and consider his words. Pepper spray, a seatbelt cutter, taser, and a pair of pointy claws won’t do a damn thing for you if you end up frozen on the spot at a threat. Which is something you know yourself to do when danger rises. Perhaps this stranger is right about that, and if he’s offering, maybe it won’t be so embarrassing to actually follow up on that, especially if he proves to simply be a kind and concerned neighbor.
Then again, maybe he’s just being nice and doesn’t want you to genuinely expect that from him.
“Can I know the name of the person willing to escort me to and fro?” You try to play it off as a joke with a sweet and calm tone to your voice, thankful that you’ve become an expert at hiding your fear by now, but he stutters in response. Stopping in his tracks and deadpan staring at you.
“Oh my god, how rude of me.” The same smile, the same soft voice, and now– and extended hand to you. “I’m Jake, and I fully expect you to require my assistance at any time, any day, when you feel it may not be safe for you to be out here alone.”
“What the fuck?” You comment without full intent, reaching for his hand and gripping it in yours.
It’s…delightfully warm.
“Hm?” He perks up a brow. “What was that?”
“It’s like you can read my mind or something.” You laugh, now releasing his hand and feeling far more comfortable walking with him, and possibly accepting his offer.
“I’ve been told that before, you know.”
Good fucking lord, the feeling of you gripping his hand was something that could have sent him straight to an asylum. Cold hands, warm smile, a reluctant tone in your voice– he sees you size him up, and god, fuck, did he see you just accept him for all that he is at this moment. He broke past your first wall, he could see it in your eyes when they flickered for just a moment.
“I bet you have.” You confirm for him, now giving him your name and looking up at him. The dim streetlights and remnants of the setting sun sure do put this moment on a pedestal in your head for some reason.
Your first friend in this city. Surprisingly it’s a man, and even more surprisingly, he seems to be entirely in tune with every single anxiety you have about life right now without even fucking knowing it.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
The immediate night after you willingly led a kind stranger to the front of your apartment building, seemingly right across the street from his own, was the moment you realized that for the first time in years, you really did feel safe.
Jake, this new person who appeared out of thin air walking right into you and somehow, into your life as well, is safe. With the well-bleached hair peeking from his hoodie, tired eyes, and the blushed cold air on his face doing nothing more than highlighting his features, you didn’t want to admit the immediate attraction to him.
In fact, those feelings of instant attraction are what got you into that mess with your ex. It’s what you’re running from now, and what you were intending to avoid. It’s in your nature to want to be around an attractive person, sure, but is it so strange to lean in so quickly when said attractive person lives across the street and offers you convenient means to feel even safer? You’re not jumping into an immediate relationship or anything by feeling safe around him. You don’t know him well enough, but for some reason, all you need to know to satisfy you is that he’s not out to take from you. He didn’t seem to need or want more, even in those long moments of silence standing beside him in the supermarket.
If anything, Jake, himself, is a new safety measure you intend to use for yourself, even as a last resort. Not because his smile is charming, or his voice is soft. Definitely not because his fashion sense seems to be well thought out, and his clothes hang against his body as if he had a real life filter consistently maintaining that every angle of his face and body remains perfect.
It’s because he offered it. Point. Blank. Period. You, unfortunately, are not in any position to deny that it’s what you need either. You know for a fact that your ex is still asking around for you and trying to figure out where you live. Not to get back together, but just to let you know that he’s around, and he always will be for as long as you live.
So, Naturally, the days leading up to running into this man was a whirlwind of paranoia for you. Nothing that even your heavy doses of medication could calm, yet, he managed to do it on that simple fifteen minute walk to the grocery store, and that somehow quicker fifteen minute walk back home.
That happy shocked sigh he let out at learning you live right across from him, was weirdly comforting too. As if he was just as relieved as you were that he knew he could at least keep an eye on you if you needed him to. Like he would be willing to call you at three in the morning if he so much as saw suspicious activity outside of your building. Plus, you were debating at the time lying to him about where you live just to comfort yourself, and you’re glad you didn’t.
It caught your attention, and you find yourself longingly looking out of your window today, scanning the building across from you and wondering which one of those rooms would be the most safe for you. Your mother’s voice muffled through your phone as your eyes wander, and a smile forms at her words.
“Don’t you think it’s too soon to be putting your trust into a complete stranger? Honey, I don’t want to watch–”
“I know, Mom. Really, it’s not like that. I barely know the guy but don’t you think it’s a good thing that I have a neighbor now? One that’s willing to walk with me so I’m not alone out here?”
There’s silence on your mother’s end for a few moments before she sighs.
“It does make me feel at ease, I admit,” She starts, sounding as if she’s going to cry. “I just want you to be careful. And– I want you to tell me things if anything were to happen. I don’t want you to keep anything from me anymore.”
You sigh now, more in a defeated and sad way as your eyes trail down to the door of Jake’s building and notice him stepping out and heading down the street.
“I won’t hide anything anymore. The last thing I want is to go through that again, but I’m healing. Really, every day feels a little better, a little safer.” You back up from your window and smile again, grabbing your coat and slipping on your shoes. “I gotta go though. I love you, Mom.”
You don’t hang up until you hear her say it back, and then you’re out the door to catch up to him. Unsure of why you’re doing it, and ultimately choosing to ignore the fact that you were staring at his building.
Jake, on the other hand, has been reeling for days. Though, more careful now when he watches you. He even moved his camera slightly, hiding it better since he’s caught you staring out the window at his building multiple times.
It’s confirmation that, at the very least, you think about him.
“Hey!”
At first, he thought that voice was his imagination like always. He ignores it, relishing in how well he managed to remember that little rasp you have sometimes when the wind blows like this. Given, he’s only walked with you once to and from the grocery store, the weather was much the same, and your voice cracked a few times in your words to him.
“Jake, Wait up!”
He hears it closer now, followed by the sound of foot steps and….fuck. It’s you. You’re really running after him as he makes his way to the local mall, all to buy the next book on his list from your bedroom.
“Hey?!” He turns to you, unable to control his glee at the turn of events.
For once, after all this time of him watching you, you’re approaching him without prompting and it only took one official meeting.
So naive. You do need protection.
“What’re you doing here looking so warm?” Jake adds, outstretching his arms and watching you pause at the invitation for a hug. “Too soon?” He lets his arms fall before stuffing his hands back in his pocket.
You panic only for a moment, realizing you definitely need an excuse to be chasing him down like this solely because you crave that short instance of safety he offered you once before. Sadly, you have no excuse. You had nowhere to be today, nor any plans to leave your apartment at all and yet, here you are, avoiding his hug and yet still wanting to stand in front of him.
“Oh,” You instantly come up with a lie. “I was running out to the market again because I forgot to buy something.”
Jake perks up even more at the idea that he could walk you to and from the market, and possibly even offer that you come with him to the mall. Maybe this is the perfect time to bring up the book you’ve already read, that he, apparently, so desperately wants to read too.
“What did you forget?” He asks playfully, noting in his head that maybe you’re a forgetful person. Which is kind of cute.
“Uh–” You pause, breaking eye contact and blurting out a random item. “Milk.”
Well, that was a lie and he definitely knows it. He carried that jug of milk that was not forgotten back to your apartment for you. In fact, he hadn’t worked out his arms in a while due to his focus on his abs and stomach that he even felt a little sore due to how long he was carrying it, all while the wind was freezing his fingers to ice for you.
“Ah, should we go grab you some milk then?”
You don’t think twice before you nod, sighing in relief that the lie was taken at face value and not realizing for a moment that you just impeded on whatever plan he had prior to you interrupting him.
“Okay, can we stop somewhere else first? If you want?” He eases into the question, studying your expression and loving every moment of it. Craving to be close to you, even just to stare. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, I can always just grab milk on my way home and drop it.”
Oh, you were being rude. Only now realizing how you eagerly transformed his errand into your errand.
“My god, I’m sorry. You’re clearly busy today, it’s okay. I can grab milk later!” You say in a rushed huff, already backing away and trying to hide yourself from the embarrassment.
You really do cling. Your ex was right about that, and it makes you uncomfortable.
“Wait, no!” He panics, fumbling in a step toward you to close the distance again, feeling far too uncomfortable with how you step away from him. “I’m just headed to the mall real quick to grab a book I’ve been wanting to read. Just a quick in and out, then we can grab your milk. I’ve been wanting to see you again anyway!”
Jake thinks that may have been too forward for any normal person to say outright, but it’s true. He so desperately wanted to see you again. Up close. He needed to see you again.
You pause your step, turning back to face him and unintentionally scanning his outfit that day. He’s somehow even more handsome than he was the night you met him, nose slightly red from the cold weather and shoulders stiffened as if he’s trying to hide from the open wind.
He takes intense note of the way your eyes scan him, and there is an unintentional twitch in his pants at the way you don’t grimace at him. He knew you wouldn’t, after all, he does all of this for you. He’s clean shaved and dressing better because of you.
“Book? What book?” You ask delightfully, being an avid reader yourself. Of course you’re interested in connecting on a level that isn’t just safety with him.
“Well, I’m not sure if you’ve heard of it but it’s called ‘[redacted]’.” He side eyes only slightly at the anticipated response from you. It was…a bit different than he expected.
You laugh at him. Genuinely, you’re laughing at him, with a snort and all. A laugh that he would argue is cute if it weren’t for the fact that he feels like this could be the first time he fucks up with you. He doesn’t want you to laugh at him for reading this book. He wants you to love that he wants to read it. Its one you wrote on your list, why are you laughing?
“Wait, you’re serious?” You deadpan, standing stiff and shocked. “Even I wouldn’t admit to having already read that very book…” Your eyes trail off before you smile.
You sense that he’s gone rigid not from the weather, but from your mocking and you lighten up instantly.
“I just didn’t expect to meet such a handsome guy who reads about a woman who…well, you know.”
It’s like you could do no wrong as Jake’s eyes tune into yours and you see a sense of sparkle in them. You’d never understand how that simple, off-hand compliment to him is making his heart spiral up, down, and all over behind his ribcage.
Physically, he can feel his body react to you addressing him as handsome. As if he doesn’t react the same way any time you look at him, or speak to him, or come near him at all. You think he’s handsome. You just admitted it, and he can’t help but already feel high, like he’s on top of the world over it. You must like to look at him, much like how he loves to watch you.
Still, he knows he needs to play it cool despite how in love with you he is right now. You’re the one who seems eager, which means he’s done his part for now, and your chase for him is just beginning. If he comments on your compliment, you’d think of him as too eager. Too ready. As if he had some underlying reason to continue speaking with you.
Plus, Jake actually has no idea what the book is about, but he was very willing to find out today when he got home. You, however, seem to be keen on discussing it.
“Know what? I only want to read it because it was recommended to me by someone.” He lies.
Your face falters.
“Oh, was this someone a girl?” You don’t look up, nor do you realize that the two of you have started walking toward the mall regardless of the insecure conversation at hand.
“Ah, well, maybe.” Jake chuckles.
He’s in love with you, he’s so in love with that disappointed sound in your voice when you asked him that. He could even, perhaps, sense a bit of jealousy. So soon too? Already? He knew he was right, he was made for you and he couldn’t be happier knowing that you’re picking up on it.
“A girlfriend?” You pry unintentionally, noting how that book is generally geared toward a female audience who would only ever read a few passages to a man if they were, well, into that sort of dynamic.
“Why do you ask?” Jake encourages you to boost his ego even more, unable to stop himself from smiling.
“The book is about a woman who kind of, kills men and eats them, among…other things.”
Oh, wow. He loves you so much right now, even if you spoiled the story for him.
“Interesting. What makes you think my girlfriend would ask me to read that?”
“It certainly wouldn’t be a brother or best dude friend recommending it to you, let’s be real.”
Jake raises his hands in mock defense, ready to see if this makes you like him even more.
“Alright, I’ll admit. I knew what it was about–” He’s lying. “No one actually recommended it to me, I just didn’t expect you to have already read the book, nor did I expect to have to explain myself why I want to read it.”
“Explain away, Jakey, we got a bit of a walk ahead.”
A nickname?! Already? You're entirely naive and in need of him being beside you. God, what would have happened if some other cunning liar appeared to walk into you and offer to escort you back and forth? You would have swooned the same fucking way! Anyone with eyes can see that you’re flirting, and anyone with a dick can see that he’s eating it up faster than you’re able to put it out for him.
Regardless of if you seem too quick to trust, he’s proud that it’s him who got to you first, because now no one else will ever get the chance to even consider it.
“Oh, I’ve got a nickname now? That must mean you like me.” He offers you a sort of drunken dopey smile, only because he feels drunk. Like a lost puppy just invited into a warm and caring pair of arms, really.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You’re the one going to fulfill your fantasies about–” You try to joke as if he’s one of your best friends from highschool. You remember when you were able to freely have a sense of humor, but before you can finish your joke, you pause, realizing that despite mocking the book and his interest in it, you still don’t know him on a level to do this. Nor should you have given him a nickname so soon. God, how stupid could you be? “Nevermind, I actually have the book if you want to borrow it.”
You have issues getting too close, too fast. You’re already clinging, watching his building without full intention, and chasing after him down the street simply to speak to him. You don’t know where this feeling inside of you comes from but you can argue that it’s solely due to the comfort he brings to you. You don’t know anyone else in this fucking city save for a few co-workers. When you moved here, you promised that you’d keep to yourself until you heal and feel safe on your own again.
Yet, here you are. Clinging to the handsome man who lives across the street. Clinging to a fucking man. Again.
And you know, even though the two of you are already halfway to the mall by now, he doesn’t mind that you didn’t bring up borrowing the book until now. He was prepared to buy it, and even more prepared to see where your eye wandered just to learn about more of your interests within the rows of books.
“Really?” He smiles and tilts his head at you, turning both of you around with a gentle touch to your arm, very nearly wanting to snake his hand into your pocket and hold your fingers against his. “That’s great, let’s go get you some milk then!”
And you know, when he waited in the lobby of your apartment, you almost invited him upstairs to your actual space. You didn’t though. And when you handed him the book, and he handed you that milk, only then did you realize that one of the jugs of milk in your possession will have to spoil…and it sure as fuck won’t be the one he just handed to you.
Why? Because you create silly little attachments to the rare moments in your life when you’re happy. This jug of milk is a representation of a lie he accepted, as well as him accepting you and your silly ways of making it through the day.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
The panties.
The scent is dull as he reads and rereads passages of a book that many would consider improper for anyone to even write, let alone publish. Every victim is him, and everyone, everything else is you.
It’s hard not to be aroused when you so readily invited yourself to be around him that day. Even now having your number, the self control he needs to not frantically text you that he’s in love with you is eating him from the inside out.
The panties. Still offering the most private part of you but no longer being enough. The camera, offering glimpses of your alone time within a space you don’t quite realize has been shared with him. The taste of your shower wall, your toothbrush, the smell of your clothes, the softness of your sheets, and the trauma within your written words— none of it is enough anymore.
And now, the book, offering plenty to the imagination, turning the pages as if he were playing with your skin, still not enough to satiate him any longer. Nothing could ever satiate the need within him to love you to his full extent or to have you love him back. Especially after having already met you, after feeling your hand against his in that brief handshake, after hearing your sweet voice say words for him to hear and him alone.
Has he not waited long enough for more? He’s seen you up close and personal, he knows all of your interests that you display, he knows your voice, knows your footsteps— still, he can’t get the feeling out of his mind. What it felt like to stand in the spot within your apartment that ultimately led to his even deeper love for you. His confirmation that he loves you, even.
And now? Texting is easy when he feels this desperate to get to you again. He doesn’t care to be overwhelming to you because he is overwhelmed. You’re the one who approached him last time too, so if anything, the universe is on his side and he fucking knows it. He can feel it in the air with each little breeze that flows past that little crack in his window. He can smell your shampoo with each cold gust of wintery air, and see your reflection in each little snowflake that falls.
He wants you to chase him again, so bad. Only so that he knows he can chase you harder now.
Jake: hey so i read the book, are you free today?
The way you immediately respond is telling.
You: what did you think? insane story, right?
Jake: not sure if you wanna have this conversation over text…
You: it’s ok, i figured you had some freaky fantasies if you wanted to read that, im not gonna blackmail you or anything
Jake smiles, he’d let you blackmail him any day of the week.
Jake: hmmm what does that say about you then?
You: anyway, im a bit busy today but maybe we can catch up tomorrow?
No, no no. Tomorrow is centuries away. He knows you’re home, he can fucking see you over there, he can smell you, he can sense you. Not to mention, he’s not an idiot, he can see the way you avoid certain conversations and steer the direction despite making the same joke yourself.
Silly, silly girl, thinking he can’t read you. If anything, he’d think by now that if you’re really so afraid of the world, or him, or anyone else, you’d have closed those fucking blinds by now. You haven’t though, have you?
Maybe you know people watch you. Maybe you love it, hoping that he’s the one doing it. Maybe you’re some sort of exhibitionist. Maybe that’s the reason you read that fucking book. Maybe that’s why you were trapped in your relationship before.
There has to be a reason for it at the end of the day, and he hopes that it’s him. You love his jokes, and your avoidance is only further proof that he’s breaking past your little sad and pathetically thin walls. You’d probably love to know he watches you, that he protects you even when you don’t think he’s around.
And yet, you’re busy today?
Guess he will be busy too, then, as he stands to his feet and begins to dress himself while texting you.
Jake: Oh, you’re busy? That sucks, i guess i’ll find somethin else to do today then
You: I know :( ill make it up to you soon, promise!
The buzzing in his brain and need for you is too strong to stay away. That little promise means the world to him, especially because you’ll be making it up to him sooner than you anticipate. You can be busy all you want, but that’s not to say he can’t accidentally end up at the same place as you, right?
Besides, what if your ex comes around? What if some guy gives you unwanted attention and there’s no one there to defend you? After all, his body reacts with euphoria each time he has gotten the chance to be with you, and he craves that feeling once again. You’re going to give it to him, not anyone else.
Jake: alright, be safe today...
You: always am!
Jake: text me when you make it home safe
You freeze as you read his words, feeling something in your stomach flip. You can’t tell if it’s butterflies or anxiety. Still, you find yourself smiling and your face feeling a bit fuzzy.
He wants you to be safe. That’s more than you could ever ask from someone, because god knows you’ve always managed to find yourself in the most unsafe situations with very little effort.
You: ok!!! ill text you when i get home so you know I didn’t get run over or something
Jake: it’s more just to make sure someone doesnt kidnap and take advantage of you lol
You freeze again, this time fully aware of the anxiety in your belly.
Jake: pretty girls like you gotta be more careful, so don’t stay out too late or ill worry
For a second, you almost wanted to cancel your plans. For just a second, you felt good today. You felt safer than usual.
You: i’ll come home before sundown….thanks
Jake smiles, hoping you recognize the risk you put yourself in each time you leave your apartment without him beside you. Thankfully though, you will never be without him again if he can stand it.
Besides, you suck at safety. Following you around is far too easy, and popping up when you least expect it is even easier.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Spotted you.
There you are, with that same puffy jacket he’s grown used to seeing you in considering he only ever really gets to see you outside and on a cold day. In that puffy jacket, you’re walking into a local coffee shop and his eyes sharpen at the image of you through the window.
The barista takes your order with too much interest, in his opinion. He can see you not take notice on how everyone in this city wants to take you from him. He wants you to notice so bad, he wants you to only want his eyes on you, and to only want his voice in your ear.
He breathes in the icy air, bottom lip shivering only a little bit at the idea that other people look at you the same way he does, even more so the fact that you might be here to meet someone that isn’t him. You might have friends, and he knows better than anyone that you do not need friends. They’re always out to get you anyway, you should be here with him, not someone else.
He breathes a sigh of relief followed by a heavy shiver when he sees you take a seat alone, and he dips away slightly when you glance out of the window as if you’re trying to be aware of your surroundings.
With him around, you don’t need to pay attention to the things around you, he’s hyper aware for you. He could tell your coffee was finished before your name was even called to alert you.
Honestly, he’s so hyper aware of each person who walks into that coffee shop after you. He sets themself up for failure in his head. Each person gets a stare of daggers, because what if they’re here to meet you? What if you’re trying to make friends? What if you’re trying to date? After all, this little errand must be important to you considering you told him you were too busy to see him.
His eyes continue to fall back on the barista though, staring at the line of sight this man offers to you every few moments. As if he wants to catch you looking at him too, as if he wants you to give him a reason to talk to you, as if he is a better option than Jake himself could be.
There is a hate within him at this moment as he seethes outside of the cafe window, staring down his competition. He almost completely forgot to look at you until he felt a rush of air push past him and he notes two people walking into the cafe now.
As he comes back to reality and leaves his little realm of hate for the handsome barista at the counter, his worst nightmares are confirmed. Not only a woman walks in and takes a seat at your table, but a man too. You hug them. You hug him.
Why is everyone all over his girl today? His heart drops. His quivering bottom lip intensifies with the wind, the temperature mimicking the feeling in his heart as he watches you touch other people, and spend time with them. He really, really, needs to know who these people are and why they’re close enough to hug you like that.
He pats his chest through his hoodie with a breath in an attempt to rid himself of the stress weighing on him, and then straightens out his back before taking one last deep breath and making his way inside of the cafe, straight up to the counter.
There, he tries to balance his breathing as he makes eye contact with the very same barista that keeps pushing dangerously close to a boundary line. His name tag states the name “Jay”, and Jake can’t help but grimace and roll his eyes at how similar their names are.
He grimaces more at hearing the man speak to him, as if he has all the right in the world to exist on the other side of that counter after staring at you the way he did.
“Sir? Can I–” The barista repeats himself for a third time, feeling small under the gaze of the customer in front of him.
“Just a shot of espresso.” Jake dead-pans, still glaring at the man.
The barista nods awkwardly, shifting his eyes to you on instinct now that he’s done it probably a million times since you’ve walked in. He’s noticed you for weeks, he can’t help it.
Jake, on the other hand lets out a deep and angry sigh from his nose as he tosses his card onto the counter, clearing his throat at the barista.
“You seem to have an eye for girls.” Jake lightens up, holding up the short line of one person behind him.
“Oh–” The barista laughs shyly, “am I that obvious?” he adds, dipping his head down as he slides the card through the machine and turns the screen back to his customer.
“Unfortunately.” Jake narrows his eyes at him, intentionally and violently clicking the number 0 for this asshole’s tip. “and I’d suggest you contain yourself, because that’s my girlfriend you’re drooling over.”
And then he walks away, ignoring the way the presumed “Jay” looks at him in embarrassment. He can tell he wants to apologize, and rightfully so. Jake does deserve an apology for how shameless this idiot was, but he doesn’t let him as he makes his way down the counter leans against it with his palms, facing away from you and pretending he can’t sense your warmth from here.
And then he starts counting in his head.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven…..Thirteen….Twenty si-
“Jake?”
His heart immediately swells at the way you’d recognize him anywhere, even if he’s facing away from you and he makes sure to make eye contact with the barista when they both perk up at your voice calling out a name. He watches the confirmation in Jay’s eyes click, the confirmation that he is never to look at you again.
And still, Jake’s heart swells even more in this instance because he could recognize you too, even if you’re faced away from him. Still, he has to keep his cool. One, to make sure he doesn’t appear too eager to see you, as if he definitely followed you here. Two, so the barista doesn’t see his lie. And three, so he doesn’t snap right here, right now over the fact that you hugged someone that isn’t him. Two someones that aren’t him.
He doesn’t want to interrogate you so immediately, he wants you to give him the answers yourself as to who these people are.
He pretends to not hear you as he stands facing away from you and grabbing his espresso from the barista who avoids eye contact.
Jake gives a small and fake nod to the barista, as if to show you that he didn’t say anything out of pocket to him. As if to show you that he definitely didn’t just claim you as his girlfriend so the freak behind the counter doesn’t try anything with you.
Then he turns to eye the room, looking for an empty seat, avoiding the corner where you’re blatantly staring at him.
“Jake!” You wave your hands to get his attention, standing up half way as if to stand out from the crowd of puffy jackets and warmed cheeks.
His eyes land on you, where they rightfully belong and he notes the smile on your face upon seeing him.
Oh, so you did want to see him today. You didn’t smile like that at the barista, or to the people in front of you. There’s another confirmation within him in reaction to this, that soon enough, what he said to the barista won’t be a lie. In fact, it gives him the confidence to push for it now more than ever.
He raises a brow in mock-surprise to see you before shooting you a half wave, moving his eyes to other areas as if to imply he doesn’t want to intrude. As if to say he isn’t here with you intentionally.
And then you wave again, raising your voice a bit and saying his name yet again. His eyes land back on you, and the way you pat the seat next to you.
Perfect. Yes, invite him. Prove to everyone who you belong to. Prove who it is you want to see right now, who you want to sit by, who you want to look at. And then, tell him who the fuck these people are. Explain why you hugged them, and why they’re somehow more important than he is.
As he heads over, bowing politely to the man and woman sitting across from you, he seats himself next you to closely. So close that he can feel the friction of your jacket against his hoodie, and immediately his skin is raised in goosebumps as he looks at you and your bright eyes.
He wants to lay claim to you so badly. He wants everyone to know that you are his, and he is yours.
“Such a huge city and still we manage to run into each other–” Jake chuckles playfully, looking at you with a soft and gentle smile before glancing at these strangers across from him. “If we keep meeting like this I might just have to ask you on a date.”
He says it like it’s final, like he’s laying that claim he wants so badly. As he says it, he looks the man that you’re with dead in the eye with exuding charm and confidence. Still, the way you shift awkwardly next to him doesn’t go unnoticed as he turns back to you and takes a sip of his drink.
“Would that be something you’d be interested in?” He whispers gleefully to you, saying it as if it’s a joke because the people across from him lend you both a smile and a laugh at his blatant and forward words.
“Jake, this is my mom.” You finally speak out to avoid his question, watching him attach his lips to the hot cup of espresso he ordered, as if to only breathe in the warmth of it. “And this is my uncle.”
Jake immediately stands and bows politely. He appears panicked, embarrassed, to everyone else in the room. He’s not though. Not at all. He is relieved to know that now is his chance to make some sort of impression, now is when he should show his best side. All worry of who these people in front of you are is thrown out the window for the time being, actually. He feels like he’s on top of the world, killing two birds with one stone almost. Or three, if you count Jay.
If he can get your family to like him the same way he got you to like him, maybe you’d be more inclined to circle back around to his half-joke of taking you on a date.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” He stutters, not looking the two in the eyes. “I must have sounded so rude just now, I didn’t mean to intrude–” He continued, only to be cut off by your mother.
“Don’t mind us, Jake, is it?” She says kindly, glancing to you and then back at Jake. “You must be the boy with the pretty smile who she mentioned the other day.”
Jake does take note of your mother’s reluctance to accept him immediately, and given your past, he guesses that would make sense. Her kind words and smile does not match her eyes when she speaks to him initially, but he’s going to change that now.
Besides, his heart just grew four sizes bigger at your mother outing you to him. You said you like his smile? You said it’s pretty? Fuck, he’ll show you pretty.
“I can only hope so.” He responds, turning to you and smiling even bigger, noting the way you curl in on yourself in discomfort at the awkward situation. “Always so shy, don’t worry, I think your smile is even prettier.”
And then Jake trails his eyes to your uncle, proud of the way he felt you shiver at his words.
The man simply judges him, then looks at you with a raised brow.
“Jake helped me carry my groceries, he lives across the street from me.” You say, feeling stupid and small in the way your mother just fucking embarrassed you in front of the only person you like being around in this city. Still, that judgment from your uncle is called for, you think, and you’ve got to calm his worry for you somehow.
“Couldn’t just let her carry all that back herself, afterall.” Jake shrugs. “I was raised to know better.”
Both your mother and uncle nod, going silent for a few moments.
Then, as if Jake isn’t even here, your mother prompts the conversation that the three of you must have been having before Jake came over.
“So, have you decided yet?” Your mother asks with no context for Jake to pick up on.
“Yeah, actually–” You look down, then slightly press your leg against him from under the table.
As much as you’d prefer this rather telling conversation not to happen in front of Jake, you reluctantly speak in a way that gives little to no context.
His heart explodes at that simple touch though, ears going deaf from any words you’re saying anyway, and he very nearly shoves his hand under the table to place upon that very same leg.
Somehow, he holds back, his hand shaking inches above your leg before forcing it back into his own hoodie pocket.
“I’d like to stay here.” You say confidently now, looking at both your mother and uncle.
Your mother nods with a smile, your uncle following her reaction.
“I think I feel safe enough for now.”
Jake wants so bad to confirm that you’re safe with him, despite knowing exactly what you’re talking about within an instant when he definitely shouldn’t know.
“Well, you know there’s always a room at home for you if you need to come back–” Your mother seems reluctant to say too much, looking over to Jake with a smile that becomes more genuine. “Keep an eye on her, I’m sure she’d appreciate it.”
He knows you’d appreciate it and he has gone above and beyond in terms of keeping an eye on you. It’s like, he’s fucking perfect for you.
Jake nods to her.
“I’ll do my best.” Jake smiles, now shifting his body up and standing back to his feet. “Well, I’ll leave you guys alone.” He continues, now looking at you. “Text me when you get home safe.”
And as he walks away with a triumphant and hidden smile, your mother immediately smiles at you in the same way. Seemingly lightening up about Jake as a whole, briefly anyway.
“Text him when you get home safe, huh?” Your mother pries, kicking you gently under the table and watching you squirm and release the blushing mess that you’ve tried to hold within you for the past few minutes.
“Ah, yeah, um–” You try to speak, unable to explain the safe feeling you feel around Jake. You’re not sure if it’s a crush, or if it’s just you taking advantage of someone who is being kind. “He’s kind of already been watching out for me, so that's partially why I’m choosing to stay here.”
Your mother nods.
“I can admit that he’s cute–”
You nod to yourself at those words before your uncle interrupts.
“And polite.” he adds, sipping his strong coffee and offering a look of possible approval.
You dead-pan stare at both of them, knowing exactly where this conversation is going.
“He likes you.” Your mother continues shortly, looking away from you and not allowing you to hush her of the motherly-instinct. “I’m just saying, honey, please be careful. I know he’s cute, and polite, and seemingly safe. But I just want to make sure you’re safe.”
You look down with internal confirmation.
“It’s okay to live a little, go on that date with him, but go somewhere public first.” She continues. “Don’t move too fast, you’re still–”
Everything is overwhelming in this moment. Especially when the truth is put into words and offered to you by the two people you trust most.
“Healing.” You look down at the table as you finish her sentence for her, thinking of how close Jake was sitting next to you. Wishing he was still next to you because somehow, you felt more safe with him than you do your own family right now.
“Don’t sit there and act like I don’t know how you act when you’re being shy about a boy…” Your mom adds to the silence, quirking a brow and looking to her brother. “You’ve still got your pepper spray if you need to use it.”
“It’s not that I’m worried he would like, be like him.” You interject. “ I just don’t know if I’m ready to act on a stupid crush so quickly.”
“That’s good, and I’m glad he makes you feel safe. Just please hold onto that feeling, don’t rush just because a cute boy is carrying your groceries.” Your mother starts again, only to be cut off.
“Okay, okay. Can we talk about something else now?” You roll your eyes.
Your mother keeps to herself after this, and all you have in your head is wondering how and why your mother seems to partially advocate for this man after a mere ten minutes of meeting him. You can see her try to keep you safe despite her distance from this city, yet she seems to be hoping that Jake is a legitimate defense system for you too. It’s as if she’s looking for comfort in him as well.
She’s never been one to approve of your crushes either, but somehow, this time is different. And these days? You trust her intuition better than your own.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You: i made it home safe
Jake: good, im really glad. sorry for accidentally ruining your plans today
God, if there’s anything Jake should be sorry for, it’s not that.
You: it’s ok, i was happy to see you.
You: my mom seemed to like you
Jake’s cheeks burn reading that as he goes from staring out his window to looking at the screen of his phone. He can tell that as soon as you got home, you headed for your bathroom and you must be in there right now readying yourself for your evening routine, possibly even naked before a shower to text him.
It’s not strange at all that he knows you’re over there all alone, texting him. His body reacts like it always does, and he’s already snaking a hand down his pants just to rub against himself to satiate his body and keep it under control for a bit longer.
Jake: woah really? how so?
You type to him almost immediately after each of his responses.
You: idk, they commented on how you asked me on a date or whatever, thinking it was serious.
Jake: i was serious
You pause, standing at your bathroom sink with your toothbrush in your mouth when a smile creeps across your face. It feels like the first time you ever got asked on a date in highschool, and that little dance of happiness would have been fucking embarrassing if he were to see it.
Even worse than your reaction to that, your mother would be terrified to know how you shift entirely when you’re alone and talking to Jake. She would faint knowing that you intend to immediately go on a date with him, and she would immediately wake up and faint again knowing that you find yourself letting your guard down entirely around him as well.
It’s safe to say that, maybe you definitely have a crush on him. Why else would you react this way to how forward he is? Why else are you somehow so willing to go on a date with him despite wanting to stay as far away from relationships as possible?
Why is he so fucking irresistible? Why is he making you feel this way?
You: you were?
Jake: yea, what are you doing rn?
He’s typing with one hand, legs spread wide while he slouches in his chair and skews his head to stare through your empty window. He thinks back to the day he stood in your living room looking down at his own window. You could come into your living room now and watch his body jerk with each movement of his palm against himself, phone in hand as he texts you and know exactly what you do to him.
Each passing moment between his last text to now doesn’t bother him as he works himself up, chewing on his bottom lip and focusing even more on that lit up room across the street, feeling the familiar arousal bubble in his belly as he rips his hand away to grab that same pair of panties he stole from you. There, he shoves them down his pants along with his hand, groaning at the fabric stretching around him like they always do.
So soft, so gentle.
As for you though, you’re feeling the panic flow through you as you stare in the mirror at your reflection. Right now? He wants to go right now? You just washed your face, and you were about to take a shower.
You: bout to take a shower, why?
He groans more at your typed words, remembering the taste of that shower wall, imagining your pretty face with little droplets of water running down it. Imagining droplets of other things running down it. God, his confidence is so high, he’s so fucking horny right now, and he still manages to text you with that one shaking hand.
Jake: ill come get you right now, i want to go on a date with you
Jake: can i?
His persistence shows his interest in you and it’s so attractive to you right now. Immediately you find yourself spitting, rinsing your toothbrush, and wiping your mouth clean before opening your makeup box again.
You: right now?
Jake: right now.
You: can you give me like twenty minutes?
There are explosions surrounding him right now, or rather, a very intense orgasm. He scored a date with you and he feels the confirmation run straight through his body and out the head of his cock, all over your panties, his hand, and his pants. And god, he’s a little frustrated that he spent so long trying not to get his own cum on your panties, solely to keep more of that scent of you, but he fucking got a date.
Who cares? He can surely just snatch another pair, possibly right off your legs.
After all, you asked for twenty minutes surely to try and look nice for him. Fuck, that means you want him to look at you the way he always has been. He wonders if you’ll do something different with your makeup, or if you’ll put on a different kind of outfit. All for him.
Finally for him. For him. For him.
Jake: of course, text me when you’re ready
And then, he just watches as his body makes an attempt to relax. The way you wisp back and forth like a ghost through your apartment, rushing to find something to put on. Even from here he can see you smiling. Running around in a bra and panties, he moans slightly, almost considering fucking his cum into your panties again but ultimately choosing to stand and change him. Mostly because he sees you think hard about your outfit. The way you throw on a shirt only to take it off and slip on a dress instead, despite the cold weather.
He’s going to give you that same effort, eyes glued to his window as he blindly searches his closet by touch alone.
He wants to text you again after you run your hands down your stomach in that dress you put on, he wants to tell you to keep it on. He wants to tell you how pretty your matching pair of bra and panties look under it. He wants to say so much, do so much, and containing it is so fucking hard.
Yet, still, he manages.
When you stand in your living room, that same dress still on, he watches you throw a jacket over it, he can’t help but wonder if you could sense his hope that you’d wear that. He wants to have a reason to keep you warm, a reason to put his palms on your legs to warm them up, a reason to be close to you. After all, this is a date, you’re inviting him to be close to you, right?
And then his phone buzzes and he struggles to tear his eyes from the image of you standing there with your phone in your hand.
You: okay, im ready!
Jake immediately sighs, staring up at the ceiling to get his body to calm down. His dick is twitching wildly in his pants again, his hands are sweating, his entire body is vibrating. It’s finally happening.
You’re going on a date with him, and he’s had the perfect place planned and in his mind since the first day he met you from your window.
He’s quick to throw on an outfit, slip on his shoes, and run out his door.
Jake: on my way outside now, meet me in your lobby in 5
You’re fucking beaming. For the first time in a long time feeling like you may be the luckiest person in the world. There is no pain within you as your butterflies overtake every amount of angst you had about meeting someone under circumstances of dating.
You’re here to get away from your ex, not to fucking ban yourself from having a good time. You want to have fun. You want to stop being afraid.
And god, Jake is like, the perfect guy for it.
You enter the lobby to find him standing proudly against the wall, propped up in a lazy way and already looking at you with a dopey grin. He looks flushed, proud, and happy. Arguably, he’s even more attractive now than you ever thought he was before and instantly, you’re ten times more shy than you’ve ever been.
“There she is,” He smiles, spreading his arms out to invite you into a hug like he tried to do before, and he’s shocked that you step into his grasp. “was starting to worry I was too forward.” He adds, immediately burying his face against your neck.
You smile against his chest in the hug, feeling so warm for the first time in your life. A warmth that comes from something other than rage or tears. Already, you can feel your body shiver at the way his arms wrap tightly around you in a hug that doesn’t feel condemning.
You don’t feel trapped against another person, and it’s a welcome change.
“You definitely were a bit too forward but–” You pause, stepping out of his grasp and feeling the empty air replace his arms. “It made me feel better about liking it.”
Jake gives a reassuring smile before lending his hand to you and instantly intertwining his fingers with yours, shoving them into his hoodie pocket, and dragging you close to him before leading you out of the building. He’s reeling from the hug, feeling the way your breasts pressed up against him, the way you sighed against him, and the way you smelled while you did it.
God damn.
In his head, that hug from you felt better than any sex he’s ever had to date. His entire body reacted as to be expected, to the point he was thankful that you weren’t as close in the hug from the waist down as he wished you would have been. You would have felt that reaction, you would know how you wake his entire body up.
Thankfully, the cold air outside lends him a hand in taming his lower half, and also lends your hand to him to keep warm.
“Where are we going?” You ask out, voice gentle in the night air, unaware of how the man next to you is buzzing from his feet to the top of his ears.
He’s struggling not to lose his mind.
He can see your breath, and wants to swallow it. Each huff and puff, each word, he can visually see it in this icy night, and he knows it has to be warm despite the minty toothpaste he can smell on you.
God, he knows what your mouth tastes like, the smell sending shivers down his spine at the reminder of how he sucked your essence off of the bristles you must have used just minutes before now. He wants to kiss you, he wants to kiss your breath, he wants to devour the air and aura that surrounds you when you’re next to him.
Honestly, the cold weather does not freeze his bones. He feels entirely hot, leading you to his favorite place in the city.
“Nothing big, I assume you ate with your family so I figured we could skip the regular date stuff. I want to take you somewhere quiet and pretty.” He looks over at you, hoping you see how much he adores you.
Somehow, you do notice something in his eye. A shine, a glint. It’s something you’ve never seen in any pair of eyes that looked at you. His pupils seem to be dilated and his eyes almost look black, still, that smile reaches those same dark eyes, indicating to you that he is happy.
He looks happy to be with you right now.
And on any other day, a man you barely know saying he’s taking you somewhere “quiet” would scare you. But….you’re not scared. You’re looking forward to it, actually.
He gives your fingers a squeeze as he waits for you to speak back to him, leading you easily through the city streets.
“Quiet and pretty?” You say, looking up at him. “Does this place happen to have a heater?”
It doesn’t. But that’s what he’s for.
“Unfortunately, no, but–” He goes to say, and you stop walking for a second. “I was going to say I could keep you warm, I mean, if you want. If not, I can take you somewhere else.”
You look down, weighing the options on whether you want to be that close to him so immediately, or if you’d rather follow the general rule of dates. Dinner, movie, goodnight kiss. You already hugged him, and you can admit to liking the way his arms hugged you. Maybe you’re not entirely against the idea, despite feeling alarm bells deep in your brain go off, telling you that you’re moving too fast.
And then you wonder why you start walking again, and why you’re imagining him holding you close, huddling your body against his to keep you from shaking. Intimacy. You’re thinking of intimacy.
Why does it feel good? Why does the thought excite you?
“You’ll keep me warm?” You reluctantly ask, your fingers twitching in his within that hoodie pocket.
“Yeah, I mean, if you’re comfortable with that. I don’t want to seem too forward–” His fingers squeeze yours tighter, as if to comfort you.
You sigh, chuckling.
“Like I said, I like that you’re forward— just, no funny business okay? This is a date, not a hookup.”
Jake pauses, glancing away.
As much as he’d love to lay you down against cold, moon-lit grass and taste the entirety of your body. As much as he wants to hear you call out to him, feel you react to him, he knows what’s inside of your head better than you do, he knows he needs to tame that need for now. The fact alone that you even imagined it for a second, just to find out if you want that now, just to tell him that you don’t want it yet, is enough to satisfy him.
It won't be long until you’re asking for it anyway.
Plus, he would never do anything to you without your consent. If he’s allowed to keep you warm tonight, that alone is better than anything he could ask to experience.
“No funny business.” He uses his other hand to hold out a pinky to you. “Jesus, what kind of guy do you think I am?”
Suddenly, you feel guilty as you take his pinky into your own and seal those words into a promise. Jake picks up on the way your face falls.
“I haven’t been on a date in over a year. Been avoiding it if I’m being honest,” He starts to explain as a way to soothe you, guiding you gently through a large gate. As if to connect with you on your level of discomfort. “My last relationship ended pretty badly, I didn’t think I’d ever want to date again.”
You perk up at his words, looking at him as he guides the two of you through a dark and grassy area. You can still tell his eyes are shining as he shares this with you, making you feel special and….not alone in your anxieties about this.
“I don’t know what it is about you, or why I immediately want to skip all of the casual shit when it comes to dates but, this is where I wanted to bring you.” He smiles when he stops you, standing in front of you and grabbing your other hand, holding it, and shoving it into his hoodie pocket alongside the other. “Not because I was trying to come onto you. If I was going to do that, I would've asked you to come home with me.”
You feel his icy knuckles and squeeze his hand hard to try and warm it up. Maybe to comfort him, or to thank him?
“I didn’t even bring my ex here. I actually came here to get away from her sometimes.”
You look away when the blood rushes to your cheeks at the way he’s talking to you. He’s acting like the two of you have been on at least ten dates by now, but it’s only been one.
Somehow, some way, you lean into it. Into him.
“My last relationship wasn’t very good either. Was so bad that I actually find it hard to believe that I’m on a date with someone right now, I still don’t even know if I’d know how to love again.”
You pause, closing your lips tightly and feeling awkward for saying the L word so fast like that. Implying that you don’t know if you could love Jake.
“Would you feel better knowing that I’m not asking you to think of the future?” He offers, slowly lowering himself and pulling you to the bare ground with him.
The dirt is cold, but Jake is warm.
“Just worry about how you feel today, when you’re with me. If you’re enjoying it, there’s no reason to worry about what you might feel–” He reaches for you to turn you around and drag you onto his lap before quickly enveloping you into his arms. “Or what you might not feel.” He pauses with a squeeze against you. “Is this okay?”
You don’t understand why it’s okay that he’s being so touchy, but he is warm, and any shiver that threatened to hit you now only comes in the form of butterflies seeping out of every pore on your body. He’s pulled you into his lap as if to keep you from having to sit on a blanket-less ground, and his arms are around you as if to remind you that blankets only exist for people who don’t have him.
It takes so much self control not to pull away when you feel his chest breathing against your back, but it takes even more self control to not turn around and cling onto him in the same way. You’ve wanted to feel safe so badly, for so long. You wanted to feel this way on your own though, without the need to lean on someone else.
You’ve never wanted to be a damsel in distress, but goddamn are you fucking distressed. Your trust issues run deep, so fucking deep. Anyone can see that you are a broken person, but not everyone would accept you for it.
Jake, right behind you, right under you, holding you so close like this the moment you’d let him? He accepts you entirely, and it’s so enticing to you. You can’t turn away from it, you’d only fail yourself.
You’re so fucking drawn to him, no matter how forward or blatant he is.
“This is a bit overwhelming,” You start, pulling away from him slightly and turning to look at him. But then you see his face, and how sincere he looks. “But I’ll try to appreciate how I feel right now.”
“Does that mean you’re okay with this?” Jake whispers, pulling you back against him and pressing his face against your shoulder, breathing in deep to get that scent of you into his lungs.
You don’t notice the way he does it when you nod in response, and the way he’s entirely enamored with you at this moment. He wouldn’t be able to let you go if you asked him to, not when your body is relaxing against him and you’re letting out a small hum of cautious approval.
“Are you warm?” He continues, shifting his legs only slightly from under you, mostly to make sure you’re coat is offering enough padding under you to keep from feeling the blood pumping in his pants right now. And then, his hands move from his hug down to your legs, big warm palms not moving from the expanse just above your knees, instantly warming you.
He can feel your shivers calm, and your regret for wearing this dress die.
You nod again, still cautious but also wanting to fight the fear within you so that you can really just enjoy this moment of closeness with someone else. Even if you just met him. Even if you’re afraid. His hands feel like they belong there, as you stare at the way he doesn’t move them higher or lower. They’re really just there to keep you warm, and surprisingly, you don’t know if you could ever feel cold around him at this point.
“I'm scared of this, you know?” You comment into the night after a few moments of silence, reluctantly holding onto his wrist, pushing them down your leg a bit as if to imply he should rub them.
He follows your movement, wincing from behind you in a hidden attempt to contain the fact that he very much wanted to moan at that. Feeling your legs against his palm feels so….igniting to him.
“I know.” Jake says in a matter of fact tone, confident in his words as he bores holes into the revealed skin of your leg when he moves his hands back and forth.
“You do?” You lift to turn and look at him, but his hands instantly move to your shoulders as he turns you away from him, forcing you back against him in a tight hug.
Mostly because you do not need to see his face right now, he knows he looks fucking gone.
“Anyone can see that you’re terrified.” He comments seriously now, placing his head on your shoulder and pressing his cheek against yours. “It’s no wonder I feel the need to protect you.”
You’re shocked that you don’t flinch at feeling his cheek against yours, noting that his lips are just inches from yours. You try to erase the images of kissing him so soon, you’re too weak right now. He makes you feel so weak.
Instead, you try to think hard about his words. Trying to ignore the way you felt his jaw move against you. Trying to ignore your immense attraction to the closeness he’s giving you. Are you really that obvious? Are you really this desperate to be close to someone? Anyone?
“Hoping that someday you’ll tell me what it is that makes you so afraid, but for now? Just know that I’d never do anything to make you feel like that.”
You think harder.
Much, much harder.
An uncanny feeling in your gut wonders how he finds words that are so meaningful to you. It’s like he can read your mind. It’s like your life is a book that he’s read a thousand times.
But that’s impossible. You haven’t known him for long, maybe he’s just….a really good person. Maybe you’re just lucky to have bumped into him that day. Maybe it’s lucky that your ex instilled a fear into you so deep that you found yourself living next door to the man holding you right now.
“How do you do that?” You comment quietly, feeling warmer than you ever could have expected to on a night like this.
“Do what?” He smiles, now loosening his grip on you, pulling his face back, and spreading his legs so that you’re now sitting between them, rather than on him.
After all, if he had kept you there, you would have felt what was happening in his pants by now. The way you don’t run away from him, the way you let him touch you has him reacting for more than he ever knew he could. Even after releasing his arousal just before the date, he can already feel the ache. The need to crawl into you, the need to make you fucking love him.
“It’s like you tell me exactly what I need to hear. It’s fucking weird.” You continue through his movement, scooting back as if to huddle yourself against his warm chest, in turn bumping his pathetically hard cock against your back.
You try to hide that you’re a little disappointed that you’re no longer on his lap, and the back of your thighs are now freezing against the grass. He, on the other hand, is so fucking thankful that you still manage to not feel what his body is trying to show you right now. His arms immediately wrap back around you, holding you against him much like before.
You really don’t know why you wore this fucking dress, without tights no less.
“It’s weird?” He questions. “It’s weird that I wouldn’t do anything bad to you if you gave me a chance?”
You look down, feeling those words hit you in the gut. It is weird, but then again, you’ve never really had a relationship with a person who wouldn’t bring harm to you.
“I–” You pause, thinking as hard as you can without oversharing, hands reaching up to grip his forearms, pressing them tighter against you as if you want him to save you from…well, him. “I have my reasons. I’m not trying to call you weird. It’s just weird how you show up in my life at a time where I think I needed this the most.”
He smiles.
“Well, you’re going to have a hell of a time trying to get rid of me at this point.”
You smile back.
“Likewise.”
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Three more dates have taken place since that first night in the empty park. Each date that followed took place in the same spot, with the same weather, and the same offered warmth.
By now, you find yourself unable to avoid thoughts of him. Thoughts of how badly you like him after learning of his interests, after seeing how he carries himself, and how he treats you over all. The way he seems so in tune with everything you could ever want or need, filling you with only safe care rather than horrifying uncertainty.
Jake likes the same books, tv shows, music, movies. All of them line up near perfect to your own favorites and suddenly you believe that the red string of fate exists. Jake is careful when he touches you, never pushing and only offering, suddenly, that red string of fate is attached firmly to your pinky. Jake looks at you like he sees one of the world's wonders, which was uncomfortable at first for you, but you think that maybe the other end of this little invisible red string is tied to his other pinky.
Your entire life of fucking horror led to this point, where the universe finally gave you the person you’d want to be with for real. Any other man would make you feel cautious, Jake though? Jake does nothing but make you feel like, for the first time, you don’t need to have a guard up. The fact that he managed to do this so fast is a bit telling on your end, that perhaps you put too much faith in people, but goddamn, it looks like he works so hard to show you that you’re not wrong about him.
On your last date, he even tried to kiss you. You panicked, backed away, and felt so fucking embarrased, until he texted you a mere fifteen minutes after parting ways and apologizing, stating that he didn’t know what came over him.
He apologized to you. He didn’t take what he wanted despite your fear, he didn’t push or pull, he simply allowed you to exist beside him, in front of him, even behind him if it’s what you wanted at the time.
God, you should have kissed him. You should have kissed him hard enough for him to realize that you’re trying.
You’re trying to be a person again, for yourself, for Jake, for your mom and uncle. Still though, he doesn’t know the shit you’ve gone through, or the shit you’re running from. You feel so dissociated at times, wondering how strange or odd you must react towards him during the dates he takes you on. Yet, he doesn’t falter. He doesn’t question. He doesn’t force you to feel like you need to apologize at all.
And this is all you can think about now. About Jake. About what he’s doing, about how he must be feeling today, about how he wears his hair, and how his alternating hoodies always offer warmth on a cold night when the two of you are sitting closely together on the ground just…talking.
The thoughts of him don’t stop and it’s kind of nice. Having your fears so loud in your ears every day, anxieties of your ex eating you alive, and fear of being alone in a big city can get quite loud and exhausting after so long of not being able to escape. Thoughts of him are the only thing that calms your mind lately, so you probably wouldn’t stop thinking of him even if you had the choice.
Unfortunately, that choice is made for you today, once again, just two days after that third date with Jake.
A single text from an unknown number that shifts your brain into a fuzzy focus of terror. Your mother told you to change your number, and you really should have done it by now. You have no excuse as to why you haven’t, but you have the reason as to why you should have done it shining brightly in your notifications center.
The unknown number is just that, unknown, but you know who it is already.
Your fingers shake when you tap the screen and your eyes go dead upon the message. This confirms that your body will always know when he is around, you will always have to feel this way for as long as he’s thinking about you.
Unknown Number: heard you got a job over at [redacted company name], mind if we have lunch?
You don’t know who told him, you don’t know how he found out where you are, or where you work. All you know is that now, the buzzing thoughts of Jake fizzle out and are quickly replaced with that of searing reminders of what happened, and what will likely happen if your ex is really trying to get to you already.
It’s the fact that the police did nothing. It’s the reality that they wouldn’t let you procure a restraining order. It’s the fact that he got away with everything he did to you, and wants to get away with more. You’re just a girl, alone in a city who thought this was the best course of action.
You can’t even bring yourself to tell anyone that he texted you. Your mother would scold you for not changing your number fast enough, despite already knowing you haven’t done it yet. It would somehow be your fault that he found you despite his insistent attempts to keep you as his, as if you belong on a chain tied to a tree in his backyard.
You call out of work, explaining the situation. Your managers are already aware of your safety concerns and the situation at hand, and you’re lucky that they really do live up to the promises they made when you took the job.
All three sick days can be used right now if you need them but after those three days, you have to either work from home and be willing to come into the office if you are needed, or you need to put in your notice and leave.
Naturally, you take the sick days, and you intend to work from home.
Despite not feeling safe here, considering the few items in your apartment that went missing not too long ago, it’s safer than walking to and from work. It’s safer with Jake just next door. It’s safer with the security guard in your building’s lobby.
You’ll be okay. This will pass.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jake is at a loss, nearly ripping his hair out day by day when you don’t text him back.
When he looks to your window, the lights stay off consistently, the curains are fucking closed. You haven’t left your apartment for work, you haven’t texted nor have you called.
It’s been six days, nine hours, thirty eight minutes, and nine seconds since he last saw you and the only thing he can think of is that he fucked up.
He tried to kiss you, and you eased him into a rejection by pretending everything was fine until you felt comfortable enough to stop talking to him. For three days now, you haven’t responded to him.
Three days without any hint of you, and six days without feeling you in his arms.
He’s going insane and not even jerking off helps calm him down like it normally would. He feels like he could lose it at any moment as he paces his apartment with a buzzing non-stop energy within him, stopping at his bedroom window to stare for hours only to see no movement in your apartment. Only to still see the lights remaining off. Only to see the blinds locking him away from you.
Sure, he’s got the grainy footage of you from weeks past, the footage from the day you got dressed for your first date with him, and the footage from each date after that but he doesn’t have you. The last two days contain footage of blinds swaying, that’s it.
He was so close, he really thought he was. He thought he had you, he thought you were almost ready to let him move to the next level. He thought you would accept if he were to ask you to be his girlfriend, he thought you would let him kiss you, and let him into your apartment, and let him exist within the air you breathe.
But you left.
So, naturally, he works up the courage to grab his camera and hook it into his pc. Obsessively searching for any sign of you within the footage from last night. He tries not to think about missing a glimpse of you as he is away from his window, seeing as how you must not be home. You must have left days ago just to get away from him.
Until…as he fast forwards all of the footage, he sees a light flicker on.
The timestamp reads four in the morning, and the light stays on for a mere minute and a half before turning off again.
One thought floods his mind.
Did you find out that he watches you?
Then another thought.
Are you hiding from him?
And one last thought.
How can he explain and still get you back?
And as he continuously paces his apartment, unable to focus on anything other than knowing you’re in your bedroom hiding, nothing on this earth could calm his frantic brain.
Should he go over? Should he come see you? Should he text you again? Should he–
Pacing the same path in his apartment for far too long, nearly ripping his own hair out, he stops in his tracks at the sound of his phone. He knows that vibration like his own mother tongue by now. That’s you. You’re finally texting him back.
You: are you mad at me?
The relief is instant and near orgasmic. The first contact in what felt like an eternity for him in his head, he takes a deep and calming breath. His eyes flick back to your window, where your apartment still appears to be hidden from his view.
Jake: never, i was just worried since you stopped talking to me.
You stare at your phone, scrolling up the some fifty text messages Jake sent you over the last several days and feel awful for not once checking your phone. To be fair, you’re afraid that every message is from your ex and you eventually just ended up turning your phone off.
After all, you remember what happened the last time you blocked him. That wasn’t even an option for you at this point if he really knows where you are.
The fear inside of you is so strong by this point that you can’t help but want Jake to be with you. Even inside of your apartment, where you’ve yet to invite anyone aside from family. You just want one single day of calm, one single moment of feeling okay. The past three days have been nothing but a paranoid delusion for you.
Each sway of your curtains in front of your blinds is a person who isn’t meant to be inside of your space. Each footstep in the hallway outside of your apartment isn’t other residents, it’s someone trying to get inside. Those missing batteries from weeks ago? It was him. Your missing panties? He has them.
Just like Jake, though unknowing to you, you have been pacing much like he has. You’ve been on the verge of ripping your hair out too.
You: i think we need to talk
Jake’s relief turns to curiosity, to confusion, to horror, to excitement.
Jake: of course, love
Jake: do you want to go to the park again tonight?
You shake your head as you text back with a firm “no”, wanting so badly to explain to him why you’re acting the way you are, and why you’ve always acted so defensively. You need him to understand so that he doesn’t leave. You need him solely because he is all you’ve got right now.
You: no
You: ill explain everything but can you like…
Jake’s ears twitch as if he can hear your words, with your pretty voice, and that cute pitch it has when you talk to him.
You: i don’t like to invite people to my apartment but I'd really just rather you come over.
In less than a second Jake’s heart threatens his health. Yes, yes, yes. Fuck yes. After days of festering in love rot for you, months actually, you’re finally inviting him. All forms of negativity towards your lack of speaking to him lately is laid to rest instantly as he jumps to his feet and makes his way to the bathroom to clean up.
Jake: just tell me when, you know I’m here when you need me.
It’s a shame that he said that, really, because you take it to heart. You need him now and will probably need him far past his ability to give to you. He will grow so tired so fast, surely, but you can’t deny nor can you avoid that you need him.
You need his comfort, his safety, his smile, his dilated pupils each time he looks at you, and his careful hands reluctant to hurt you.
You: can you come now?
Jake is already out the door, following the same path he took the first time he went to your apartment. Honestly, it’s quick enough to remind you that he’s just next door.
Jake: im in the lobby, where do I go?
You pause, briefly realizing that you’re inviting a man into your apartment just so you can feel safe from another man you once invited into your life the same way. You were so enamored with your ex, never thought he could have done what he did to you, but he did. He shattered you from the inside out through years of meticulous work, and he’s still doing it now, all because you trusted him.
It’s driving you to act as recklessly as you once did, and it’s like you’re compelled to do it. You feel forced to trust Jake, despite none of the force coming from him. It’s coming from deep within yourself. Your brain is repeating whispers of “do it, do it, do it.” when it comes to him.
You can’t resist it.
You don’t want to resist it.
You’re fast when you text him your floor and room number, and somehow still find yourself shocked at how quickly there is a knock on your door.
Jake didn’t need your informational text though, he knew exactly where to go. He knows where he belongs, and the excitement within him to have an explanation from you is one thing. The excitement of standing inside of your apartment with you is another.
His thoughts remain on that camera he placed back into his window, knowing that he will finally see himself in the footage with you, in the very spot he thinks about the most. He’s worked so hard for this, so hard.
And his hands are shaking when you open the door, his heart is shaking when he takes in the scent he remembered from before, his legs shake as he takes a step in with a face of somewhat genuine concern for you, simply to hide the way his entire body is fluttering in euphoria.
“Hey,” You start, trying to be nonchalant, trying to ignore that you look like shit. “Sorry for the mess.” You add, gesturing to not only your apartment, but at yourself as well.
“Aw,” Jake coos, poking out his bottom lip before opening his arms wide as he hears the door fall closed behind him. “Come here.”
Instantly you do, and instantly your face is hot.
Searing. On fire.
Jake freezes, feeling the warmth against his chest paired with the death grip your arms instantly lock him into. This grip on him is painfully heavy and seeped with emotion, he can feel your hot tears soaking into his hoodie and it raises goosebumps across his skin.
This is where he belongs.
“I’m sorry–” You hiccup, feeling stupid for instantly crying at the touch of another person. “This must seem so annoying to you.”
“Sorry for what?” He asks gently, finally managing to come back to your reality to hug you and hold you there, wanting nothing more than to stay like this forever. “Is everything okay?”
He can’t bear to let you pull away, so he holds you tighter against him, willing those salty sweet tears to seep through both layers of his clothing to his skin. Somehow, you still manage to make him fall harder for you. He’s so fucking in love with you. The way you cling to him like this? You’re everything he’s ever wanted and more.
You try to pull back though. Once, twice, and by the third time he finally relents and lets you back away.
You take a deep breath, meeting his gaze for just a moment and seeing the concern in his eyes. Pupils still dilated like they always are, but brows knitted together, with a small tilt to his head to offer a silent question.
You turn away from him to hide your face. You feel so seen, so vulnerable, and so stupid for involving him in this.
“It’s–” You pause, catching your breath and wiping your cheek as you try to make your way back to your safe space. Your bedroom. “It’s a long story.” You finally mutter out.
Jake notes where you’re headed and doesn’t want that. He needs his camera to get this, he needs to look back on this moment later, he needs to remember the smell of your tears, the feeling of your pain, the suffocating atmosphere within this apartment.
So, he takes a seat on your couch, blatantly ignoring how your voice fades before getting closer again.
You look at him when you go back to the living room, confused as to why he doesn’t follow you.
“You mentioned not inviting people into your apartment, don’t you think it would be best if I stay here for now?” He offers, giving you instant comfort in the way he doesn’t try to invade your space. “Come over here.” He continues, patting the couch cushion next to him and glancing to your window for a moment.
You watch him continue his own train of thought, shifting to reach for the blinds and open them. “It’s so dark in here, let me see you, love.” He offers again, going back to patting the couch after letting the sun in and making it seem, somehow, more enticing. “Please?”
You listen, quietly making your way to him and sitting closely against him.
“I thought I scared you away because I–um,” He gazes at you as he speaks, seemingly studying the emotional baggage under your eyes. “tried to kiss you.” He trails off, very much wanting to kiss you again.
“That didn’t scare me.” You shake your head, still trying to avoid his eye now that you know the sun is allowing him a true view at how destroyed you must look. “It’s just, we’ve been on a few dates now and I like you– alot.” You say more to yourself than to him, as if you’re confirming internally that you need to explain some things to him before giving him the option to run away. “I feel like I–”
“I like you.” He interrupts you. “Alot.” He continues, becoming hyper-aware of everything in the universe. He can feel the hairs on his head grow, he can hear the birds a country away, he can taste the sunlight spilling against your watery eyes.
You like him, and he likes you.
And he takes intense note of the way you dip your head, a small smile curling up on the permanent frown you previously had.
“But Jake,” You say, letting your face fall again. “I think we need to talk about some things before, like, you decide if you really like me.”
That’s silly. He knows everything about you already. He’s in love with you, nothing you could say or do will ever change that. He wishes you could see it, he wishes you knew that he was made for you.
“There is nothing you could say to change my mind,” He says sternly, turning towards you and attempting to make you look at him by grabbing your chin gently between his pointer finger and thumb, “Hey, look at me.” He urges you, pleased in the way you do turn to look at him.
He’s stunned. The whites of your eyes are red, your eyelids are puffy, you appear to be so tired, and still you are so beautiful to him.
For a moment, you take note of the way he looks at you and wonder how he could genuinely think that way and show it so blatantly. Are you the one who is acting recklessly here, or is it him? Somehow, it brings you comfort, even if you feel the need to force your eyes away from him.
He doesn’t let you, and you let him not let you.
Your eyes stay on his.
“I don’t think you realize how much I want to be with you.” He admits blatantly, forcing you to forget your train of thought for a total of three seconds before your eyes really lock onto his. “I don’t think you’ll ever realize that.” He continues.
“Jake,” You mutter out, feeling so full of emotion that you weren’t quite prepared to accept yet. “Please,” You mutter again, continuously losing your thoughts, only to gain them back moments later, and then lose them again when his eyes stare through you. “Please, let me explain something before you say that.”
He pulls his eyes away now, closing them and pinching the bridge of his nose out of frustration before breathing out and adjusting his eyes to you again.
He nods reluctantly, relaxing against your couch and throwing his arm around the back of you, pulling you to lean against him, where you can instantly hear the way his heart is beating.
It’s beating fast. So fast that it’s almost distracting to you if you think too hard about it. So, you don’t. You try to ignore the way it beats against the top of your head just so you can finally give him some insight on why you haven’t texted him, on why you didn’t let him kiss you, on why you’re so reluctant.
“Remember how we were talking about our last relationships?” You finally say, feeling his hand on your shoulder rub little shapes against your shirt in a comforting way.
He hums, continuing to trace his own name against your sleeve as he confirms your words. Because of fucking course he does. He remembers everything about you.
“Mine was bad.” You pause, willing the emotion to say in your throat. “Really bad.”
“How bad?” Jake encourages you instantly, already knowing the answer.
To be fair though, he’s been waiting to hear the words from your own mouth. He’s been pretending to not know this entire time, holding in his rage when he’s in front of you, seeing how it affected you, feeling what he did to you through your lack of trust and affection.
“I think you could probably guess, considering I didn’t let you kiss me.” You try to say without going too deep into it. “Considering I’m afraid to let you touch me.”
“But you did.” He says calmly, running the hand on your shoulder down to your waist to pull you in closer. “You did let me touch you.”
You recoil internally.
“I let you hug me, and I let you keep me warm.” You admit. “I don’t know why I let you though. I wasn’t afraid when it was with you.”
Jake knows exactly what you’re trying to say to him, and loves that you admit that he’s different. He is different because of you and for you. His stomach flutters at the fact that you know that, and you accept it.
“Because I wouldn’t hurt you.” He continues to echo his words to you, seemingly giving you a final answer to a question in your head that you have yet to find an answer to. “Because I wouldn’t let anyone else hurt you.”
God, the warmth that floods your body is what you’ve been wanting. This is why you wanted him to come over. This is why you need him. You can’t do this alone, you want him here with you.
“I think, deep down, you know that I wouldn’t let anything like that happen to you again.” He continues, talking for you, talking as if he is inside of your head.
“I can make an assumption on what he did to you and I don’t need to know how far it went, but it’s not going to keep me away from you.” He takes in a sigh, releasing his next words with a breathy chuckle. “I have always wanted to be with you, and I still do.”
He feels the way your breathing evens out as you listen to him.
“Did you stop talking to me because of this?” He finally asks, letting the question hang in the air before his hand grips your waist tightly, holding you so close against him that you’re nearly on top of him. “Did you think I wouldn’t fight to have you?”
The words are brash and hard to swallow, but that’s not why.
If you could, you would have gone the rest of your life without telling another person what happened to you. You don’t want it to define you, and you don’t want Jake to ever feel like he needs to fight for you.
You shake your head.
“No.” You say sternly, now wrapping your own arm around his middle and hugging him as tightly as he does to you. Your head dips below his chest, up against his ribs as you curl yourself into him entirely, preparing to tell him. “I moved here to get away from him–” You start, feeling your body shiver in each spot your ex hurt you from before. “And I think he found me.”
You feel it before Jake realizes it himself, but it’s like all of the warmth left his body within seconds. He stiffens, his grip on you loosens, and he trembles for just long enough for it to be noticeable.
“What?” He says, breathing in through his nose and staring straight ahead, seemingly out of it.
“He texted me a few days ago, mentioning he knows where I work, asking if I want to have lunch with him.” You try to explain. “I freaked out, I called in, and I haven’t left my apartment since.”
“He what?” Jake repeats, now slowly turning to you.
For the first time when you meet his eye, you see his pupils constrict. They’re not dilated, in fact, they’re tiny. Horrifically tiny. And if you look hard enough, it’s almost like they’re vibrating against the pretty brown color of his iris. The simple act of watching them change like that felt uncanny. You pull back from him, shocked at the expression and not quite recognizing him compared to moments before.
And then, he realizes your reaction to him and is immediately pulling himself back to you. He pushes that shocked rage back for now. Just for now. His pupils fall back into their permanent dilated state. His face softens, his body relaxes, and then he’s holding you again.
“No one can hurt you when I’m here.” He finally whispers out, trying to keep his voice even and warm to calm you down. “So, he found you? So what?” He continues, letting his confidence take over. “I already told you, he can’t touch you.”
For some reason, his initial reaction sinks into the back of your mind as he holds you like this and says things like that. Why? Because you believe him.
Somehow, you believe him.
“Can you promise me that?” You ask reluctantly, taking everything you can get from Jake at this moment in an attempt to feel safe, to feel better.
He nods instantly, and keeps nodding as he shifts his head to look down at you. This prompts you to look up at him, making direct eye contact and holy fuck. It hurts him not to dip down and make you forget that anyone else in this world exists aside from him.
From this angle, as you look up to him with a promise swirling around the two of you, he knows he’s got you. You’ve never looked at him like this. There is no hint of doubt, curiosity, confusion, or fear in your eyes as you wait for him to answer.
All he can do is stare at you, breath caught in his throat at the constant realization that he’s here. You’re against him, you’re talking to him, you’re looking at him, you’re–fuck, you’re everything he’s ever wanted or needed in life.
“I can promise you that, and more.” He finally whispers out to you, knowing you can feel his words spread across your forehead. “I think I’d do just about anything for you.”
You nod, keeping eye contact with him for a moment more before lying your head back against him and breathing a big sigh of relief.
“I guess I’m yours then.” You sigh out, feeling comfortable saying the words.
And oh.
Oh, the fucking joy that rattles every bone in his body. The immense amount of love, adoration, and wonderstruck devotion he feels for you fills his body from the core, he can feel it seep out of him with each breath, each tear that reaches his eye, each goosebump, all of it.
You’re his. You said it. With your own voice, your own words, your own thoughts, right up by his heartbeat, you fucking said it.
“Yeah,” He says in his own shaking breath, blinking away the first tear he’s felt in his eye for years, wanting to squeeze you so tight that you go numb. “You are.” He continues, swooping down just slightly and prompting you to look at him again.
Those dark eyes are dazed, and once again you feel like he sees you as the only other breathing person on this planet with him. It’s….so nice.
Silence hangs in the air as you look at each other, seemingly confirming a relationship that feels more uncertain to you than it does to him, but you know you’ll try. You want to be his safety too, you want to give him everything you have.
And then he says it.
“Does this mean I can kiss you now?”
It hurts you when you hear the way he says it. So uncertain and reluctant to cross a boundary. You’re trying to confirm his feelings for you, the feelings that you feel so lucky to receive. You’re trying to make him understand that he’s the only person you’re comfortable with. He’s the only one you’d ever let kiss you.
You’ve made him hold back so much, you can imagine.
You nod to him first, watching him almost immediately close in to do just that, but you pull back on instinct.
“Just–” You raise a hand in front of him, putting your fingers to his lips to halt him. “Let’s go slow.” You say, already knowing he will accept it. He will go slow for you.
“Love, you really just don’t get it.” Jake smiles, averting his lips and landing a kiss to your forehead, relishing in the feeling of your skin against his lips for the first time. “I have enough patience for both of us.”
And if only you knew how true that statement is. For him, he’s already been waiting for this moment since before you knew he existed. Despite his small moments of losing control, needing more, he could have waited even longer for this moment with you. All of it is worth it in the end if he gets to hear you call yourself his again.
You are his. You have always been his.
And you decide at that moment that he is right. He’s been nothing but patient with you, and has done nothing to make you feel otherwise.
A kiss wouldn’t hurt, a few kisses wouldn’t hurt.
So, you lift your head just a bit more, closing your eyes softly and waiting for him to do it. Waiting for him to kiss you, waiting for him to–
“Little more,” He encourages you, causing you to open your eyes and look at him. “Just a little closer.”
And you do. The least you can do is close the distance for him, especially after what he just learned about you. He probably wants you to be the one to approach him, he probably doesn’t want to cross a boundary, or scare you.
For Jake, the way you listen without a hint of hesitation is…well. It scares him. It scares him how every assumption he had about you was right. Given, he knew he would be, but experiencing it right here, right now, is amazing to him.
He keeps his eyes open through all of it, seeing your heavy eyes stay closed as you place your lips on his.
It’s so soft. Your lips are plush when they’re puckered against his own, soft, so fucking soft. He chokes back a relieved sob at finally getting this from you, hiding it with a thick swallow and his hands rushing up to cup both of your cheeks in his hands as he lets himself feel you like this.
He’s thought about it so much. Just these few seconds of feeling you kiss him already exceeds his expectations. He can feel your eyelashes flutter on the tips of his fingers, and it only makes him tilt his head just a bit to slot his lips against yours in a more comfortable position.
He doesn’t move after that, nor do you. Both of you just feel it.
It’s the first time you’ve kissed anyone since your ex and even he didn’t hold your face against his like this, despite swearing he loved you more than life itself. You can feel the burn at the corner of your eyes, and you breathe out through your nose to try and keep them in.
You don’t even notice the tears that escape until Jake is tasting them, relishing in what you’ve chosen to give to him. Never realizing how good pain can taste until it comes from you, and then he pulls back just slightly.
It was nothing but a long and drawn out act of lying lips against each other. There was no tongue, there were no frantic movements. It was just…a first kiss, that lasted what felt like years to you, and only a split second for Jake.
He blinks down at you, noting the beads of tears bunching up in your bottom lashes and uses his thumb to swipe just under your eye. That view alone of seeing his hand do it was enough to confirm for him that he is no longer chasing. You are his, and never will another person get the chance to look at you as closely as he does.
“Have I ever told you how pretty you are?” Jake smiles when he says it, feeling your tears nourish his body.
You nod, still blinking up at him.
“In passing, on dates. Never like this though.” You admit in a small voice, feeling a bit shy with the way you feel entirely new when he’s with you.
“I’ll tell you every day.” He says, leaning down to connect his lips with yours once again solely because he can’t choose between staring at you or kissing you now.
All of his senses are in overdrive. Kissing you, looking at you, sitting on your couch in your apartment, none of it will ever satiate his need for more, more, fucking more of you. And all of it is happening right there, in front of his camera.
He can relive this time and time again for the moments he can’t be with you.
You stay silent after that, alternating between the same long and simple kisses and staring at each other until you can see the sun shift positions in the sky. Sometimes he will say things during this time, sweet and passionate words that only make you feel safer and safer in your own space.
Up until you feel his body shift and his hands pull back to his own body.
You look at him as if he just interrupted a very important moment in your life, and in a way, he did. You could sit with him like this for three hours more if he allowed it, but unfortunately, nature does tend to call.
“I’ll be back–” He whispers right up against your lips, knowing that you’re already growing familiar with how they feel against you. Smiling when your lips chase him as he stands up. He lends you one more. A quick kiss, one that reminds you that he isn’t leaving you. “Just a second.” He adds in an even smaller voice, heading straight for your bathroom.
You’re still so in awe at how slow the night feels with him, loving every warm second of it. You’re not thinking about anything but him and the way his lips feel. Hell, you haven’t even gotten a full glimpse of him since that first kiss.
So, of course you don’t notice how he somehow knew which door held your bathroom behind it, or how long he stayed in there. You weren’t paying attention at all as you flop back and do your very best not to kick your legs out of happiness at this moment.
You finally feel comfortable, even while a threat looms just outside of these walls. You have a boyfriend now, one that appears to be willing to stay beside you through all of it.
You’re happy.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
All good things come to an end but at least this time, it’s temporary.
The night with Jake felt much needed on both accounts, but it became one sided when your discomfort kicked in. It’s not that you didn’t want him to stay, above all you almost needed him to.
He was so willing to stay, you could tell just by looking at him sitting next to you with kissed lips and dazed eyes, far too late in the night to excuse what you eventually made happen. He had to go back home.
Again, it’s not because you didn’t want him to stay, it’s because you felt better. You felt so much better that you didn’t think even for a second that Jake wouldn’t come running back over if you so much as hinted through a text that you needed him. Not to mention, upon your anxieties calming, your rational thoughts took back over and reminded you that this was enough. You don’t need him to coddle you more, or to worry for you.
You’re not entirely ready to let a man sleep in your home, despite very much loving the time you spent with him here.
After all, you interrupted his day already by asking for him to cater to you. Cater he did, and you wanted to do the same for him. Kissing him one more time with an apologetic look, stating that it’s best if he goes back home for the night.
You still remember the look on his face when you walked him to the lobby. Reluctance, confusion, even a bit of panic. He needed another kiss, and another kiss you gave.
His shoulders relaxed at that, and you watched him turn on his heel and head back home to presumably sleep without you.
And while you slept well that night, thinking of him and how you somehow found a boyfriend amidst all of your fears, Jake was wide awake and reeling from the conversations he shared with you, the kisses, the cuddling, the smell. Fuck, it was so much to face by the time he made it back into his cold and dreary apartment.
He doesn’t belong in this space, he belongs just across the street with you. But, for your sake…he will continue the patience he promised you. After all, he could see in your eyes that briefly, you considered letting him stay.
And throughout the night, his calm overtakes him as he rethinks, staring down his camera and trying to decide if he should watch it back until you eventually text him after you wake up.
He ultimately decides to watch, checking that your lights are off one last time before moving to his PC and plugging in the camera. The first thing he does is fast forward to your first kiss, and then the second, third, fourth…
He rewinds it to watch again, almost feeling that you’re still against him when he presses play a bit too far back in the footage.
You pull away from him in that moment and suddenly he remembers why.
Before the blissful moments he spent with you, there was a moment of intense and uncontrollable rage within him. When you told him the less-than-detailed story of what your ex did to you, he was expecting it. He knew how to act surprised, he knew how to comfort you, he knew how to make you understand that your past wouldn’t scare him away.
What he wasn’t prepared for was to find out that your fears that he read in your journal were very real. Learning that your ex texted you and that he knew where you were was one thing, but hearing your voice crack upon telling him that he wants to meet with you is another.
Jake couldn’t have prepared a reaction for that even if he tried. Not one that wouldn’t have scared you, at least. And now, this night of reliving the hours in which it took for him to make you his girlfriend once and for all turned into a night of internet sleuthing.
Finding the man on social media can’t be that hard. All he had to do was search your name to find your family, which he has done probably a thousand times by now. He knew that within the public posts of your family, this guy had to have been associated somewhere.
And after three hours of finding nothing, a little hint of who this man is reveals itself.
So far into his searches, intense googling, and even yearbook studying, he finds an older facebook account of your mother and he slaps himself in the forehead for not double checking the profiles sooner, he could have saved at least two hours if he had found this earlier.
She must have made a new account after the divorce that she clearly had and shared with the world. It only takes a single scroll with his mouse wheel to find an image of her, another woman, you, and…that man.
Jake sits and stares at the old image, noting that it’s over four years old. Indicating that you must have been with this guy for a long time. You look happy in the photo, with his arm snaked around your waist and gripping you tight.
Jake, above anyone else, knows that grip he’s got on you. It’s the same one he had on you just hours ago but he tries not to think too hard, prying his eyes away from a happy you with that piece of shit. If he ruminates on this image of you with another man, he very well may resent you for ever letting another man be with you in the first place.
Instead, he has to force his eyes from the younger college version of you and look at the reactions of the photo.
Of course your mother is the type to have hundreds and hundreds of friends, most that she doesn’t even know in real life surely. The image has seventy three likes, and he goes through each and every single one until he finally recognizes the account of the very man in that photo, holding you, as if it’s his rightful place beside you.
God, safety concerns be damned. He cannot believe that your mother never deleted this account. Your ex probably looks at this photo all the time, he probably gets off on it too. Like he must think that because he had you once, he could win you over again. No. Jake will see blood before he ever lets that happen.
Jake rolls his eyes, giving himself a mental note to find a way to tell you that your mother should really watch her online presence if her own daughter’s safety is in danger, and then he continues his snooping on your ex.
One simple google of his name and city and Jake’s got a workplace address. Come Monday morning, you’ll never have to worry about this guy again.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Every. single. day.
Every day you have texted him since the night he left your apartment, and every day he hopes that you force him to be patient with you. Why? Because for the first time, he needs to stay distant for now.
He kept his promise. Maybe he even overdid it a little bit.
Given, he knows you’d probably be happy in knowing what happened, he just thinks it would be best not to tell you about it. For now, at least, he doesn’t want you to see the mark above his eye because if you find out what happened, perhaps you’d stop needing him for comfort. Maybe you’d even break up with him since you’d no longer need him.
He’s going to ensure that you are safe, and he’s going to keep you.
Unfortunately, Jake is awful at telling you no, awful at living up to his patience, and fucking horrible at staying away from you. When you text him this morning, just two days after he met with your ex, it’s not your usual greeting.
You: they need me to go to the office today…
God, has he no shame? No. He doesn’t. Never in his life could he even imagine being ashamed to instantly come at your beck and call. Though you have nothing to be afraid of anymore.
Jake: I’ll walk you there.
You smile at his immediate act of protection of you.
You: It’s okay, my manager is already on her way to pick me up. she knows about everything so i’m still safe!
He pauses, trying to look at the bright side of not seeing you. He’s not in fear of your safety like you are, because he definitely took care of the matter, but…under the guise of you still needing it, he doesn’t like that you’re letting someone else protect you on your trip to work.
Jake: oh
You stare at your phone, feeling bad that you haven't offered him much since he was last at your apartment. You don’t want him to think you’re avoiding him again, or to think that you don’t want to see him but…your manager has a car. If you were to let him walk you to work, you’d just be paranoid of being on the street.
You’d just feel bad for him to have to walk back home alone. And you’d feel even worse knowing he’d make the same trip to walk you back home.
You: i don’t want to have to walk to work, even if I know you’d be there with me. It’s just a huge inconvenience for you and a big safety concern for me…
He reads your text and scoffs. Do you still not understand that it’s what he lives for? He would walk across the fucking country if you so much as suggested there was a leaf on the ground that you wanted to look at. It’s not an inconvenience.
The inconvenience is you giving someone else the right to what he is supposed to be doing for you.
Jake: it’s ok love, just text me when you get there safe
You pause, unable to shake the feeling of guilt that’s threatening your brain right now. It feels awkward, it feels weird. You’re more than aware to know that he probably wants to prove something to you, especially with such a new relationship but you can’t help but feel like you’re the only person who needs to prove something.
You need his protection, but you don’t want to exhaust him. That is your biggest fear, even over the idea of your ex finding you. The idea of being wanted by someone you hate hurts far less than the idea of being unwanted by the man who is seemingly upset with you over not getting to walk you to work.
So, you’ll prove to him that this isn’t because he isn’t capable of protecting you. You’ll prove to him that you do want to see him.
You: Can I see you after i get home? I miss you.
His reactions are always so immediate as he slams his phone against his chest, sighing out of relief that you want to see him tonight. So what if he has a blatant and obvious bruise on his face? He will proudly present it to you, with a lie of course, solely because he knows it’s proof that he would do anything for you.
Jake: I miss you too :) just tell me when she’s bringing you back to me and i’ll be waiting in the lobby for you.
For some reason, those little typed words of “bringing you back to me” hits you hard in the chest. It makes you feel warm, happy even, as you head out of your apartment and straight for your manager’s car.
Sure, you might not be walking to work when they need you to come in for a while, but you’ll sure as hell be certain to make it up to Jake every single time. You can practically feel his excitement through his quickly sent texts, and you can’t help but thrive off of it.
Now, even as you’re worried that you’ll be at work, in a place where he can find you, you feel excited. You’re looking forward to getting to go back home, and looking forward to hugging Jake, and talking to him, and seeing his pretty face.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You don’t recall your work days going by this slowly, as you fiddle around your desk wondering why they called you here today in the first place. “For a meeting” Your manager had said. Well that’s all fine and dandy if it weren’t for the fact that the meeting isn’t scheduled until four thirty in the afternoon, the end of the fucking day.
You could have worked from home and just came in for the meeting if that was the case, but you’re already here and mostly just annoyed that you had to come at all.
You scroll your phone, do some paperwork, scroll some more, more paperwork, and then, just as you open your messages so you can complain to Jake about how stupid this work day is, you pause.
Suddenly, you’re hyper aware of everything and everyone around you, and all you can do is sit at your desk and pretend that you don’t see the man across the large room filled with fifty other cubicles, eyes scanning for you.
The only thing you know how to do is drop to the floor upon seeing that familiar smile. You’re not ashamed when you text your manager, telling her who security just led to your floor. You’re even less ashamed in the way you quickly rush to the back, around a corner, and out the fire escape.
You came to work today to miss not one meeting, but two, apparently. The only reason you even feel safe enough to power-walk back to your apartment is because you know exactly where your stupid handsome ex is, and you know exactly why he’s there.
He’s not following you right now, you’re sure of it. You told your manager exactly who he was before, and she knows exactly where he is now. Surely they’re distracting him, because your manager, bless her, already texted you that she would take care of it and that you should get home quickly.
Insane scenario, really. You should have just called the police, but it’s not like he fucking did anything within these city limits outside of take an elevator to your floor.
God, how did he even know you were going to be at work today?
And as you rush into your apartment building, not even knowing how long or how short it took you to get there, you feel your phone vibrate before you even get in the building’s front door.
Jake: why are you home so early, and why did you walk alone?
Instantly you call him, not thinking even for a second that it’s strange that he saw you come in. If anything, it was probably just a coincidence. He just happened to look outside and you just happened to be panic-walking inside.
“Come over.” You say, out of breath into the speaker.
Jake doesn’t even respond, he just hangs up and is immediately rushing to your building as quickly as his feet can carry him, for the first time unsure of what’s going on with you.
He thinks this may actually be his record time of getting to you even, considering you’re walking up to your door as soon as he steps out of the elevator and rushing up to you.
“What’s wrong!?” You hear his panicked voice from behind you as you unlock your door, stepping inside and grabbing him by the shirt, not even looking at him before pulling him inside.
“I missed you.” You say, desperate to feel safe again and running entirely on adrenaline as you lift up and kiss him harder than you ever have before.
Jake freezes, feeling your grip on his shirt and your hardened pucker against his lips. He doesn’t relax into it at all, in fact, the way you just grabbed him runs straight between his legs and all he can do is grab your shirt back, pulling you up more, kissing you twice as hard.
He knew you could be forceful, and somehow this is the last thing he was expecting. Did you rush home alone and call him with that desperate voice because you needed him? Did you finally give in? Does he mean this much to you already?
There are no words in this breathless moment as you let yourself spiral into a void with Jake. Feeling only safe when he’s with you, on you, holding you, touching you. You really should have let him walk you to work. You should have let him stay with you there, you shouldn’t ever let him leave your side.
You only feel calm when he’s with you, and god you almost hope your ex followed you here so that he can walk in and find you kissing someone else. Someone better.
“What happened?” Jake groans out his words between the harsh kisses that are quickly turning heated. Your grip on his shirt only tightens, and you stumble back to pull him with you.
You don’t want to talk, you don’t want to explain, you just want to…do this. You need him to give you that brain fog that makes you forget about anything else.
And it’s the first time he’s ever felt your tongue. So desperate to part his lips, so frantic, so sweet. The new feeling is more than he ever could have imagined, he feels like he’s almost forgotten how to kiss you back at this point. He lets you do all of the work right now, tasting inside of his mouth and fluttering your lashes against his cheek bone when you skew your head just a little bit to kiss him deeper.
He’s feeling everything at once, and the fact that he’s finally back in your apartment only makes this worse for him. Or maybe, better? He isn’t sure, but what he does know is that if you keep doing this, he won’t be able to hold back. How could he? You’re pulling him, nearly tripping over your own feet just to pull him deeper into the room– right there in front of that same fucking window.
Your tight grip on his shirt warms him along with knowing this is being recorded, right up from the brief amount of cold air that hit him on his run over. It was freezing, and he left without even throwing on his hoodie. Which is nice and detrimental to his health. It’s like you’re closer than you’ve ever been to him without two layers of clothing on, just this shirt keeping you from gripping his skin instead.
And he would let you, he would let you grip and claw through his chest to pull him further into your space. If you missed him so much, perhaps he wouldn’t need to hold back. Your kisses are bruising, and the little breaths you take with each tilt to your head drives his heart to tremble in his chest, he’s sure you may not want him to hold it in any longer.
He’s tasting you right now and only because you’re tasting him first.
Safe to say, he’s in shock and entirely turned on right now with the way you try to overpower him. He lets you. Yes, yes, yes. Why wouldn’t he? You’re not being shy and your defenses are entirely down for him.
You continue to stumble back with him, up until your legs hit your couch and he very nearly falls on top of you, but instead he holds steady, watching you fall from the close proximity against his lips with a huff after you hit the soft cushions.
He felt his shirt slip from your fingers in the descent and can do nothing but look at you in pure awe. You look like you want him right now, you look up at him the same way he looks at you.
Your pupils are dilated, your chest is heaving, and you’re just staring up at him with each breath.
“Jake?” You mutter in a slight whisper and furrow your brows at your findings upon finally looking at him. In your rush to kiss him and to have him as close to you as possible, you nearly missed it.
You reach a hand out and see him immediately take it, your gaze still trained on the bruise above his eye. You pull him to you instantly, landing your lips just below his right brow. “Why is there a bruise?”
He pauses to feel your breath hit his brow, entirely forgetting that he is a human being with flesh that can be marked by another. Forgetting that pain exists, solely because the kiss you just landed against that swollen spot felt good. So good.
“Ah–” He chuckles slyly, feeling you repeatedly kiss the area, bruising it more by the force behind your lips. “Dropped my phone on my face a few nights ago while texting you.”
You smile against it, finding the image endearing before pulling back and taking note of the way he hovers above you, not letting a single part of his body touch you without you prompting it.
“You should be more careful,” You smile, pulling him down more, until he is forced to use his arms on the back of your couch to steady himself. “Stay like this.”
He notes how you look so small under him, and he would want nothing more than to stay like this for you.
“On top of you?” He asks gently, allowing his hungry eyes to fall to a half-lidded stare, he tilts his head and inches back to your lips as he says it, entirely drunk on the image of you against the couch and totally barred from the outside world by his body.
“Yeah,” You sigh at how pretty he is close up, dark eyes taking you in with that deep stare. “Feels like nothing could ever get to me if you’re like this.”
He nods confirmation.
“You were scared of being alone today, weren’t you?” He asks gently, pulling back from the almost-kiss and now adjusting you to lay down on your couch, all so he can more comfortably fulfill the request you just asked of him. “Don’t go anywhere without me again, and I'll stay like this for as long as you need me to.”
You stare up at him and his words as he crawls onto the couch with you, over you. He nudges himself between your legs and only now do you understand what it must feel like to want someone to love. You never imagined you’d let a man be with you like this again, and yet there’s so much truth in his facial expression after he said those words. You can’t help but feel like you were stupid to ever think you could do any of this alone.
You never could do it alone to begin with.
“I won’t,” You confirm for him, lifting your hand to move a strand of hair that hangs over that darkened bruise above his eye. “So, stay like this.”
And he does, eyes lost as they glance at every part of your face, only closing his eyes to feel your fingers in his hair for that short moment. He lets out a long sigh, trying to keep his lower half from losing control, both understanding and not comprehending that he’s on top of you right now.
Only now, with his mind racing and skin reacting does he dip back down.
“Alright.” He whispers just before the kiss, intentionally relaxing his lower half and allowing you to feel exactly what you’re doing to him.
He feels you shift when you feel it, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he presses forward a bit more with his hips, making sure you feel his love for you in its entirety.
And when your hands find their way into his hair and you hum against his tongue, that’s when he pulls back.
“Sorry,” He admits, looking away from you. “Didn’t know you were going to just– grab me like that and kiss me.”
All you can do is smile at him, refusing to question why you don’t recoil at the idea of a man being turned on. If anything, you give in to the feeling of pleasure yourself. Especially after so long of not only denying it to yourself, but fearing it.
And the two of you just lay there, shifting from time to time to get more comfortable and to ease numb limbs. Just kissing. Just making out.
Hot, wet, warm kissing. To the point of being out of breath but not yet pulling back. Never wanting to be the first one to break the contact, but always wanting to be the first to dip back in. You feel his excitement throughout all of it, and you feel his patience as well.
He doesn’t even chase when your body arches into his intense kisses, he doesn’t ask for more, and ultimately, it doesn’t matter that your ex showed up at your workplace today. Because you’ve got Jake right here, on you, shielding you, holding you.
No one can get to you right now.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jake holds you as you sleep, as tight as he can manage without waking you up. Thinking in his head over and over again about how pretty you are, how perfect you are, how utterly infatuated with you he is.
He wasn’t expecting you to fall asleep like that, gentle fingers scratching the back of his neck and holding him just as tightly. Whispering to him that you don’t want him to leave this time.
Muttering that you want him to stay.
He remembers so well how pretty your half-asleep voice sounded, with your half-asleep eyes, and half-asleep legs tangled in his own.
He didn’t sleep.
No, no. He couldn’t have. He didn’t want to miss a single breath or twitch of your brow as you dreamt. And he really didn’t miss a single one either.
The sun is long gone in the sky by the time his own heavy eyes force him to blink. It’s so dark in the room but you brighten it up for him just fine, with that pretty breath and sleeping face. His gaze falls upon the window as he smiles, hugging you even closer to him just to feel you nuzzle your nose up and against his neck.
He has yet to set foot into your bedroom since the first time he’s been here but that doesn’t bother him. You both fit perfectly on this couch. Forced proximity really lives up to its name in this city, apparently. You haven’t ever been without him, and you never will be.
He’s more than delighted to–
His thoughts shake the same way your phone does. A vibration sending his mind into a spiral at who could possibly be texting you at this hour if not him.
The phone lights up the room and he’s very careful to reach for it, smiling when your sleepy brain tells you that he’s reaching over you to hug you closer again, not to grab at your phone that you left forgotten on the table.
He’s so quiet, so careful.
The screen lights up his face, causing his dry eyes to water until they adjust to the notification.
A text message.
From an unknown number.
His eyes fall to you as he tries to remember the patterns of numbers you’ve typed into your phone, only to fail a total of three times before gently shaking you.
“Love,” He whispers, lying his lips against your forehead. “What’s your passcode?”
“Hmm?” You mumble against him, his shirt bunched up against your own lips.
“Your passcode,” He repeats in a more gentle voice, trying to keep from waking you entirely. “I forgot my phone at home, and I want to set an alarm.”
Your sleepy brain barely registers his words, or the fact that he’s lying. You felt his phone in his pocket when he was lying on top of you all night.
“Ah,” You sigh out, clearing the sleep from your throat as you whisper out the numbers to him, slurring out the last one as you fall right back into your deep slumber
Jake smiles, dumbfounded yet again by how adorable you are for him.
Now, with one hand unlocking your phone and the other tracing his name, once again, onto the fabric of your back, he swipes to your messages.
Rage.
Unknown number: so who is the new guy
Unknown number: get me banned from your work then you send him? fought like a bitch
Unknown number: i’ll be seeing you soon babe
Empty threats, he knows they have to be. Blatant lies and empty fucking threats. This idiot can’t do shit considering how battered he managed to leave him.
He thinks hard about the pain against his knuckles and even harder about how you didn’t note that they’re just as bruised as his eye. Thankfully, you were too enveloped in kissing him to take note of his bruised hands, or the lie about dropping his phone.
Jake easily deletes the texts and blocks the number, understanding that this little problem of yours is his problem to solve. And the worst part is that he knows exactly why this man wants you back. He hates that he understands the thought process from the root, knowing that if he, himself, couldn’t have you, he’d have to take desperate measures too. As if he hasn’t already.
He’s similar to your ex, who was far more handsome with blood on his face, and you can never know that. As similar as he is, mirroring the love and abundant weakness he has for you, he would never. fucking. hurt. you. Infact, Jake would set himself aflame before even imagining you crying for him to leave you alone.
Why would he set himself up for you to fear him? Your ex is a royally vacuous man, at least Jake has the smarts to treat you well.
Still, he gets it.
Who wouldn’t want you all to themself anyway?
You’re Jake’s though. You belong to him and only him, you always have, and that’s the only reason, he thinks, that you’re in this mess. Had you not tried to love someone before him, perhaps you wouldn’t have that little journal filled to the brim with night terrors and body shakes.
And as he ruminates on whether or not he should pay your ex another visit, this time without holding back, he searches the rest of your messages simply because he is entitled to it.
Every text you have is from your family and him. Good.
Your photos.
Most of you and your family, one specific photo of you. Deep within your camera roll, pressing your tits together, hand grabbing one of them, panties sitting prettily on your hips.
Who did you send that to? It’s old, your hair is different, but he’d like to hope it wasn’t to the man whose blood he’s currently craving. Still, he feels discomfort in knowing this photo was taken long before he loved you, and long before you loved him. Meaning, whether it was to your ex or not, it wasn’t for him.
His length stirs immediately still, so turned on by the image of you, the feeling of you currently against him, and the internal future promise to feel your ex’s teeth break against his fists. All of it is making his dick ache, as he chews the inside of his bottom lip and easily sends the nude to himself before deleting it from your phone forever. He’d better be the last to see this image of you, and the last to ever feel you hug against him like this. Then, he removes the sent message from your phone to hide the traces of it entirely.
You shift against him at this moment and he pulls back slightly to look at you, quickly closing out your apps, locking your phone, and tossing it to the floor. There, he wraps both arms around you, hugging you so tightly that you do wake up this time.
“You’re so cute,” Jake mumbles against the top of your head. “Wake up so I can kiss you.”
You smile against him, shifting your head up and finding his lips within the dark room. It’s soft at first, and you assume he’s going to pull back, satisfied with it, but he doesn’t.
It’s a quick movement, one that causes your sleepy groan to come out as a surprised yelp. He easily moves on top of you again, using his knees to spread your legs so he can lay between them, and his fingers locking into yours, pressing them into the cushion above your head.
“Sorry,” He pouts, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Sorry, sorry.” He continues, kissing down to your jaw, and just below your ear. “I’ve been so turned on all day, please.”
You chuckle, feeling the tickle of his plush bottom lip meeting the sensitive pulse point of your neck. Pleased with how much he wants you, and even more pleased that you kind of…want this too. But, you’re not entirely ready. Even in this perfect atmosphere with the perfect man. Room shielded entirely by night, warm lips kissing you, strong arms holding you…
You’re still not ready.
“Mm, Jake.” You hum, catching his attention and feeling him move his head back to look at you. “Not yet.”
And then you hear him let out a nervous chuckle, a sigh, and a whisper.
“Alright, baby.” He pouts again.
He moves back to your side and hugs you against him, trying not to seem as disappointed as he really is right now before you hear him speak again. You barely hear it, and you barely comprehend it within the comfort of his hug, but you do think you’ll remember it.
“Then when?”
Even as you fall back to sleep, you think about it. The fact that he’s already been so patient with you and that you knew it would run out eventually. You’ll lose him at this rate, and these soft arms vowing to protect you.
If anything, Jake has given you everything and you’ve given him nothing. If he finds out that you’ve already spotted your ex at work, he might really run away knowing that no matter what he does, you may never be ready to give him intimacy on a deeper level as long as said ex is around.
You felt how much he wanted you today right up against you. If you were any other woman, you wouldn’t have been able to pretend it wasn’t there. You would have touched him, you would have given yourself to him.
And god, you want him so badly at the same time. The only thing holding you back is the fear of it hurting. The fear of regression, of dissociation.
Yet, still, your dream state forces you to promise. You’ll be everything that Jake needs you to be in time, and he will be the only person able to teach you how to love again, the only man that will touch you in a way that feels good.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
part two
taglist: @skzenhalove , @taetaemylovie, @soocult, @nyanggk, @grilledbananas, @dneltrise, @becc09, @nielle002, @sjyfolder, @sd211, @moonmoongi, @sweetiewolfie, @ksnooppy, @woongkification, @laxatives4hre, @hiddensideofmoon, @mywaaw, @beomstarz, @multifandombtvh, @heeverseblog, @floclover, @elliesuh, @iloveleeknow, @crazydelulu, @dasa3040, @sluttyhee, @bethroedtojae, @cherryunie, @hiamlili, @seojunandsoju, @parksunghoonsgf, @jungwon-xo, @fxiryeon, @jwnghyuns, @juliesblogs
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Hey, could you please do a Percy x daughter of Dionysus headcannons pls?
⋆⭒˚.⋆ percy jackson x daughter of dionysus! reader hcs
content: percy jackson x daughter of dionysus! reader hcs
warning: language, i think sexual references??? idk, mentions of death and grief
author's note: i might as well just do all the greek gods daughters x percy jackson at this point. look, i love percy, really i do, but where are the leo requests??? the jason requests??? frank??? luke?? guys, save me from drowning in percy requests
the princess of camp half blood has arrived
even before she started dating percy she was little miss popular
shes like that one friend with like no shame or embarrassment, which in turn makes you have no shame or embarrassment and then somehow you guys are apart of a flash mob.
idk how else to explain it, like all inhibitions are gone
actually, it's like being drunk but still being able to think and what not
she, like her father, had a 'revolt against authority' habit.
lets not forget that dionysus got put in charge of camp half blood bc he was pissing off his own father
also, when new campers come and are like mr. d this and mr.d that, she just goes 'the d stands for dad' and walks away
its her funniest bit
she's actually pretty close with her father, but you wouldn't guess it from the way they yell at each other
"OUT OF ALL THE GUYS AT THIS GODS FORSAKEN CAMP?? PETER JOHNSON??"
"YOU KNOW HIS NAME, DEADBEAT. AND AT LEAST HE'S HOT!"
"I DON'T CARE IF HE'S A DAMN MODEL-"
that's love right there
when no one was looking - and i mean literally no one, if you see this, it's the last thing you see - they had their heartfelt moments
"here. it was the deepest back wine bottle i could find. im assuming that makes it the oldest."
"did i ever mention you're my favorite daughter? by far better than all those other ones...and i'm not just saying that because of the wine."
"I know, dad."
when castor died, one of her baby brothers, the first person she went sobbing to was her dad, dragging pollux with her as they both needed their dad in that moment
then she went running to percy, who held her like she would slip away.
percy found healthy ways for her to get her grief out, having found a secluded part of the woods and just letting her grow and kill and grow and kill those plants over and over again.
she'd later take pollux out there, help him the way percy helped her.
following what happened with castor, mr. d approached percy when his daughter wasn't around.
"look, i know we don't get along and you are quite literally the biggest pain in my ass but...i'm willing to be, er, civil. for her."
"you know what? i can look past the years of slander for her, too," percy replied, shaking mr. d's outstretched hand. mr. d rolled his eyes and went to make a smart comment before closing his mouth.
"and you'll look out for her?"
"with every inch of me."
"good."
as much as she loved her cabin, when she hung out with percy it was always in his cabin.
his bed was softer he'd say, but he actually just considered it neutral ground.
to go into the dionysus cabin would be asking to get choked out by vines.
though, the more percy thought about it, the more she was worth it.
his favorite thing to do with her tho is just explore new york
like i mentioned earlier, girly has no shame and will do a cartwheel on the sidewalk if you so much as think about it
it feels like he's seeing the city for the first time all over again, this time through her eyes
and the world was pretty beautiful through her eyes, percy was learning quickly
tho, not even close to as beautiful as her
cheeky bastard
but he’s YOUR cheeky bastard so you put up with his ass
#postcards from covey ౨ৎ#all my love ౨ৎ#percy jackson#pjo#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo fandom#percy jackson x reader
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Let's Actually Talk About The Issues With Vivziepop
Okay, first off, hello you beautiful people! Sorry about this foreboding title, but I needed to catch y'all attention on this so I can break down the issues that I and many have with "Hazbin Hotel" and "Helluva Boss" creator, Vivienne Medrano. Now I am sure you all on here are already aware of at least a couple of the controversies that revolve around this particular creator and if you have seen my posts floating around already, some have been greeted with the problems surrounding her social media presence and just her overall as a person. I know seeing another callout on her seems very very tiring at this point, but I felt that a lot of the current callouts missed key details that were not at all addressed or properly delved on. I plan on shedding light on my issues with her and I hope you get where I am coming from when I say that she sucks.
BULLYING
Okay, I am starting off with Vivienne's blatant use of bully mentality, her agreeing or encouraging her fans to call people who see flaws in her works sub-humans or harass those who find issue or simply jest about her works trademark cussing and and overcrowded designs. She has had this issue for YEARS and refuses to grow up and act her age despite many telling her, even her own fans at times, that she shouldn't be acting so unprofessionally. Clearly, she doesn't care and thanks to her fanbase caring more about her feelings than her being better she feels as though she doesn't need to change or do better. This goes for her friend group as well, who defend her tremendously and act as though she is never in the wrong. Name one time a friend of hers called her out for acting childish, I'll wait.
Now, you're probably wondering, "Wtf could they have done to warrant such a response?"
Criticism...That's all they did. (White Text is random peeps they would speak with or maybe mutuals)
Keep in mind...they used to be a fan as well. They were also a minor at this point
But, Viv doesn't care, this person's critical yet harmless tweets about her shows is what lead to her painting them in a horrible light and making them out to be someone who has attacked her personally and as "nasty".
Rich coming from Viv since she is completely fine doing exactly that for "Ava's Demon". Not only does she criticize it, she takes a shot at the creator as well, but GOD FORBID others do the same towards her.
And according to someone who knew her well, it's all cause they felt creeped out by her.
Her hatred for criticism is so prominent that Ima makes that a section of its own. But let's get back on the topic of bullying.
Vivienne has a fanbase filled to the brim with pushy and overall annoying individuals who have harassed, threatened, disrespected, and wished harm on many people, all cause someone had a negative thing to say about Vivziepop's mid af show. One of the earlier known instances is the one revolving around a MEME of all things.
This was what started it all, and it led to both parties blocking each other and people being mad pushy and calling them an idiot and the like over their opinions. Now look, their take and you're opinion on said take is fine so long as you stay respectful and humane about it all, but don't dogpike someone all cause they think HH sucks. And while Viv can not control her fanbase, for they are not a hivemind (some of y'all act it tho, ima keep it real) she is seen here ENCOURAGING the behavior. Tell me how someone who doesn't even like your trash ass show has the sense to tell people not to harass others, someone with a smaller following, but not your grown damn near 30 year old ass?
Oh, but people wanna act like she can handle criticism, is a sweet person, and grew from her past experiences. Fam, she was 27 in this screenshot [December 16, 2019] and has shown no change from 2013 to fucking 2024. Over a decade of the same petty ass behavior, and keep in mind, according to several of her old friends and workers, she is worse behind close doors. WORSE. She's already acting like she got no damn sense out in the open, imagine behind closed doors.
Last but not least, a glimpse into her outright blatant slander towards Dollcreep, a once good friend of hers that she even visited and spoke with frequently!
She stated that they fetishized pedophilia yet according to the victim and friends of the victim who were once friends with Viv as well, Viv actually threatened to end their friendship if he hadn't drawn NSFW art of her character and his character having sex [Addi was 15 at the time this was drawn]
On top of that, she liked the post, something she didn't need to do. The art also depicted things she had regularly drawn on her own. Addi being tied up forcefully, being sexualized, being harmed to some degree through bondage, etc. The claim that she forced DC to draw this out is backed up by her own art depicting similar elements. Also, if my memory serves me well, Viv and Doll were 17-18 years old [Doll was 17 Viv 18] and have a 1-year age gap. The way Viv frames things here is as if DC was way older and imposed some sort of power over DC, which sources say otherwise. If anything, Viv had a LOT of control throughout all of this drama, which deserves its own section.
I'll be making posts that talk about the different issues regarding Viv, so one post isn't too long (this one is already lengthy enough) and that you can just pick at one post targeting certain issues around this creator.
#vivziepop critical#vivziepop criticism#vivienne medrano#vivziepop critique#anti spindlehorse#anti vivziepop#viv get a grip#vivziepop#hazbin#hazbin hotel#call out post#analysis#creator analysis#hazbin hotel criticism#hazbin hotel critical#hazbin hotel critique#hazbin critical#hazbin critique
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hi i love your writing SO MUCH and idk if i requested this already but… do you think we can get a brothers best friend ellie?? readers brother DOES NOT want them together but they end up fucking when he’s asleep/not home. or reader goes to ellies house and eats her out while shes on call with reader’s brother?? either one is fine i would just love to see you write it
i think you requested that but i made it likee the brother didnt care so heres a second one🤭ill post the first one too tho!!
BBF!ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER
mdni please<3
warnings: 18+!! smut, almost getting caught
writers note: im sorry its so short whateva💔
You couldn't decide whether you like it or not.
Well, of course you did. Ellie never failed to make you feel good, her strap hitting all the right places while her hands caressed your thighs. She was rough, but not too rough. Degrading, but also praising. Basically, she was all you could ever ask for and more. What was there to hate?
But at some point, there was this little voice in your head telling you you're pathetic. Pathetic for liking this, agreeing to this and... just admiring her overall.
Because, jesus, 'she's my brother's friend. Best friend. What am I going to tell him?'
You, as the little sister, always let him insult you. Your opinion didn't matter, you gave up on trying to be important long time ago. You didn't hate him, he wasn't that bad. It was just sibling love language. He just couldn't be nice. If he knew about you and Ellie...
You were good at hiding it, though. When you first met her, you didn't believe she's really friends with your brother. Not to be mean, but you didn't thought he'll get along with someone who seems so... perfect.
'She probably has a shitty personality.'
That's how you explained their friendship. And you were terribly wrong.
After she visited your house once, she kept coming almost every day. At this point, you got used to that.
Oh, well, not exactly... There was some awkward situations, like when you exited the bathroom in only a towel wrapped around your bare skin and you saw her leaning against the handrail in the hallway. She only ruffled your hair and laughed at your embarrassment, seeing you blush and holding onto the fabric like your life depended on it. Maybe it did, actually?
It wasn't long after that before you began to wonder -'She can't be friends with my brother... can she?'- You started to notice more things - her kindness towards you, a tender touch here and there, and the way she looked at you made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. So what if she was his best friend? Would he really mind?
But what if he did? What if he found out?
Suddenly that little voice in your head was screaming louder than ever, and that feeling of shame and guilt crept up on you again.
But no matter how much of the guilt you felt, and despite the small voice in your head telling you you're pathetic, it felt right. You felt accepted. Accepted by someone who was perfect in every way. The thought of telling your brother filled you with dread, but it seemed so far away. You could figure out that little problem later, right? Just for now, you could feel a rush of emotions - mostly guilt, but also a rush of lust that made you want more.
More and more.
And she gave you more.
A quiet -'fuck'- escaped her lips as she saw your cunt throbbing against her strap. Her hands continued firmly holding you down as you didn't even bother to stay quiet. You felt so good... and so ashamed... You wanted it to stop but at the same time, you knew you'd beg for more if she would even simply slow down.
It was really your own fault.
This was the first time in ages you were left home alone, so you immediately invited Ellie over. First time you won't have to bury your face in the pillows. First time she won't have to shush you. First time you could actually do everything.
You were fighting your own thoughts, not knowing which one are the bad ones. You had no idea if you're doing the right thing. And you most definitely weren't but you were too fucked up to realize that.
Ellie chuckled, hearing your not-muffled this time sounds. "Were you always this loud? Jesus, how did we manage to keep this a secret for so long?"
The truth is, she wasn't silent herself. Fine, she wasn't a whining mess, unlike you, but still - the little 'fuck's and praises escaping her mouth weren't too quiet.
You continued squirming and whimpering about how big she is and how much it hurts, hoping it'll magically change, though you didn't really wanted it to. Or maybe you did? You weren't sure. Your mind continued the fight wether it's good or pathetic, none of the sides prevailing.
She clicked her tongue in disappointment, but her smirk told you how proud she really is. "I know, I know, so stop moving so fucking much." She said.
Her raspy, tired voice was enough to make you squirm again. You weren't used to hear it in these circumstances before, since it's obviously the first time she could speak loudly and clearly, without worrying about your brother.
"I said something, doll." Her grip on your hips hardened, almost aggressively pinning you to bed.
You heard the ring hanging near the door, meaning someone opened them. Just by footsteps you could tell it was your brother.
"Should I stop?" She asked with mock-concern and interest. You realized your answer won't change anything - maybe just the intensity of her moves, so you didn't waste your energy answering. That was a sign of your obedience and helplessness Ellie waited for. "Good girl."
She rolled you on your stomach and tangled her fingers in your hair, pressing your head into the pillow. She shoved it down with every thrust - every hit of your climax - to stop you from moaning. And of course it didn't work completely, but they faded enough to be inaudible outside the room.
She was intentionally going faster and faster. She loved playing with you, feeling the thrill of it, even though you didn't find it so amusing. You digged your nails into the tattoo on her forearm, hoping to slow her down.
"Ya know what will happen if he hears?" She didn't seem to care that your fingers were literally drawing blood from her body. "You'll handle it. Unless you want him to find out?" She whispered.
You immediately shook your head, pursing your lips and squeezing your eyes shut.
Then, your moment of focus broke as you heard knocking, on the door to your room this time.
"I'm back!" Your brother announced.
You asked him to tell you whenever he goes out or cames back, mostly so you knew if Ellie's free, since he only goes out with her. Today was the first time he went outside on his own and the poor guy had no idea she found a reason to visit your house anyway, just like he had no idea she did so even when he was home, in his room, right above yours.
The lack of response surprised him, so he knocked once more before shouting confused -'You there?'
Ellie looked down at you, daring you to answer, mouthing silent 'go on' in the most taunting voice she could.
"Yes! That's good!" Your voice was shaky and you knew he will notice.
He wasn't really caring, just curious, so he had to know everything. His first sentence sounded cute, like he really cared, but you figured out he's making fun of you as soon as you heard the other questions. "Are you crying? What, you weren't invited to some lame party? Or a boy you know for a week broke up with you?"
And what were you supposed to say? -'No, your best friend is fucking me for... probably more than an hour now, and her dick is probably bigger than yours, so I can't control my tears'
"Yeah, something lik- Oh, fuck off!" You screamed back, succeeding to pretend you're really hurt because of one of the pathetic things he accused you for.
He laughed. "Mhm- Whatever!"
The footsteps climbed up stairs and got silent. Ellie bit her bottom lip, holding back a chuckle.
"Does he really think of you so low?" Her hips slowed down again, but became more precise. "You did good, don't worry. It'll be over soon."
#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams x you#ellie x reader#ellie x y/n#ellie tlou#reqs open#wlw smut#ellie the last of us#bbf!ellie#bbf!ellie williams#bbf!ellie x reader#bbf!ellie williams x reader#brother's best friend#thank you nonnie#i love you nonnie#send anons
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FINALS!!!
Propaganda:
Taylor Hebert (Worm (webserial by Wildbow))
Human girl who has superpowers that let her control bugs. She shunts all emotions off into her swarm of bugs, leaving her totally blank and stoic. She outsources sensory-input to her bugs, so she never looks or reacts to anything. In a fight, she reacts to opponents there is no possible way she could see, because she sensed them with her bugs. Overall has virtually no facial tells and moves in a way that makes her seem like she isn't a person. very creature <3 she is just a bug girl
shes such a FREAK. shes completely human (tho with an eldritch alien creature extradimensionally attached to her mind) but God does she not act like it sometimes. she has the superpower to control bugs and uses it to become the worlds most terrifying hero slash villain slash warlord slash apocalyptic threat. she has her bugs crawling all over her all the time. she uses a swarm of flies to scout out areas and then leaves flies in everybodys hair so she can keep track of where they are. she practiced having her bugs make noises until she figured out how to combine their noises into human speech so now she can talk through her swarm. she makes decoys of herself out of large pillars of bugs. once she was concussed and in the hospital and subconsciously calling her bugs to her so she was just covered in insects while the doctor tried to help her. then there was ANOTHER time she was hospitalized and got bored so she made a bunch of bugs so a little dance on her chest. whenever she's in costume and talking she has her bugs make noises to distort her voice and make her sound more scary and she doesnt even realize shes doing it anymore. she surrounds herself in a swarm to disorient her enemies. she doesn't even notice when her hair covers her eyes or anything like that because shes scouting out the area using her bugs so she doesnt have to see. she once used a tide of bugs to clean herself off and dust off her dress after having sex.
#she views herself as more of a swarm of bugs with a girl-shaped computer to control them than a girl herself#her body is just an extension of her bugs which is large and inconvenient but ultimately part of the weapon
#taylor “dissociates into bugs” hebert#taylor “keeps bugs in her hair” hebert#taylor “choke them with bugs” hebert#taylor “no one could ever love me” hebert#taylor “violence is always the answer” hebert
#normally i would want a worm character to win#but#bdubs is a strange little man. he's unusual.#Taylor's just got the 'tism.
she literally is a walking superorganism comprised of one human and a lot more bugs to the point where she frequently moves her head as if she can see through walls (with her bugs, she can), talks through her bugs, has been described like a corpse whose ghost is living on in her swarm, keeps functioning thru her bugs even when her human body is out for the count, et cetera. no disrespect intended but genuinely what in the world are you talking about. She cleans her pussy off with bugs after fucking. Her pussy. With bugs. And she thinks it's normal. Because the bugs are part of her. Is this thing on. I reiterate that she literally requires an emotional support cloak of bugs. She is so dissociated from being an actual person that she treats her human body like an inconvenience and her bugs like the primary operators. Is This Thing On.
#now i told myself i wouldnt comment anything on the rb... but#“She cleans her pussy off with bugs after fucking. Her pussy. With bugs.” CHAT IS THAT FUCKIN REAL??? IS THAT CANON???#cause if thats just a hc thats wild and i dont know if its better or worse if its canon#propaganda
this is indeed canon! there is a scene where, after fucking her boyfriend in an abandoned building, she stands up and cleans dust/etc off her naked ass body by having her bugs run across her and clean her, which presumably translates to "they are eating the dirt/sweat/etc off her." her boyfriend smiles affectionately at this, because he also has something wrong with him. she also does things like use bugs and spider silk to deliver her toothbrush straight to her hand in the morning while monologuing about "checking in on her hive" (her hive is the people in her villain territory.) she is a walking panopticon. her friends sometimes talk to bugs under the assumption it's taylor watching them and they're always right. at one point she confusedly asks someone if he's arachnophobic because he doesn't want her 10k black widow spiders to live in his apartment with him. she is basically like if a cockroach was a girl. I would never lie to you about Taylor Hebert, Unsung Champion of Polls About Weird Characters.
#taylor ofc#wait hey those are my tags as propaganda!! cool!#i stand by it#anyways yeah one of her main character traits when looked at by an outside perspective is just how WEIRD she is#everyone thinks she's a freak#even when you're reading her POV you sometimes have to stop and be like 'hey girl what the fuck'#one time she put bugs on her boyfriend's dick
She also turns into a bug monster at one point. Not all on her own, but she very much turns into a bug monster. Literally And Physically.
And she uses this to survive like a cockroach, she had Just Been Ripped In Fucking Half and thrown in the ocean to die and BOOM. bug monster transformation (with a little help) climb out and keep fighting, against an opponent so vast and powerful a human couldn't even comprehend his true form (not eldritch cognitohazard, just planet-sized + multidimensional), who could kill her in an instant. She's always surviving against the odds she's so cockroach coded (affectionate!) #@ pollrunner if you're still accepting propaganda please take the 'turns into a bug monster' as propaganda#the rest can be ignored or trimmed to 'she's always surviving she's so cockroach coded' but pleamse. the Time she Became A Bug
#she's such a freak!!!#she kills like it's the only thing she was built how to do#she kills people and things like it's chess and she's a grandmaster#as soon as the violence is off she's just a fucked up offputting little one woman panopticon
One of my favourite descriptions of Taylor from someone else's POV, from Interlude 14.
“A figure stood behind Yan. Her costume was barely recognizable—She wore a short cape of tattered black cloth over her body armor, a skintight black suit beneath that, and there were folds of black cloth draped around her legs like a dress or a robe. The entire fabric seemed to ripple and move. It took Sierra a second to realize it was crawling with a carpet of insects.”
“The disconcerting part was the girl’s face, or lack thereof. Her expression was masked behind a shifting mass of bugs that moved in and out of her hairline. Sierra couldn’t even tell where the bugs ended and the scalp began, as the small black bodies crawled into and onto the black curls. There was a hint of something like glass where Skitter’s eyes were, but the bugs ventured far enough over her eyelids and around the frames that nothing was visible in the way of goggles, glasses or skin.”
“Skitter hadn’t made a sound as she entered. She hadn’t spoken, and her footsteps had been quiet.”
#taylor “driving while blind wasn’t as hard as I’d thought it would be” hebert#taylor “hangs out in superpowered darkness for a long time without being at all worried” hebert#taylor “fools a near-perfect lie detecting hero by offloading her emotions on her bugs” hebert#taylor “figures out how to communicate with the Dog Autism girl like right away” hebert
#taylor hebert kill them with your self-sustained insectoid dehumanity!
Jonny d’Ville (The Mechanisms)
Since we’re not technically human
He’s so feral hes canonically committed every single crime theres a name for i think he deserves to have a tail that flicks around when hes being mischevous. perhaps some horns or fangs as well. as a treat
Idk why but he's a feral creature
Have you seen the man? Especially in that one picture where he is fully on the wall.
absolutely no canon implications that he isn't human, but that man* absolutely has a tail. and sharp teeth. and creature ears. he purrs but he pretends he doesn't and if you bring it up he'll bite you. he's had rabies more times than you can count.
#Just sayin#Johnny eats people and says it's not cannibalism if you aren't human
#DID LYF SING THE PART IN SLEEPING BEAUTY? NO. VOTE JONNY
#Jonny’s a creature#vote Jonny
#sorry for that Hermitfans but my boy Jonny is feral and i think he is a creature
#chat vote jonny#HES LITERALLY JUST A LITTLE CRITTER PLEASE
#look at that face#he’s a creacher
#it's jonny d'ville i don't have any more to say
All crimes but sex crimes, because Jonny isn’t a MONSTER
#JONNY#i'm so sorry pearl you are too well adjusted for this#he's got devil in his name#(that he gave himself because he's a huge fucking nerd)
#LITERALLY LOOK AT HIM THE GREMLIN ENERGY IS OFF THE CHARTS
#voted jonny for the rabies
also. hold up. the pearl propaganda is saying to vote for her because she's an alien and a bloodthirsty fighter? BOY DO I HAVE NEWS FOR YOU ABOUT JONNY FUCKING D'VILLE
five am pearl this five am pearl that, jonny's just like that all the time
#please vote jonny. i know we're pitting two bad bitches against each other but jonny has tried to eat a guitar
#CMON GUYS VOTE JONNY D’VILLE HES SUCH A CREATURE#HAVE YOU SEEN HIM??? HAVE YOU HEARD HIM TALK ABOUT THE OCTOKITTENS???#VOTE JONNY
#Jonny is such a creature
#jonny is literally THE creature
#come on vote Jonny that thing is creachur incarnate#and he can sing#his fave food is human flesh and more violence
Jonny man entire existence is teeth claws belts and trauma
#that guy is so feral#just vote jonny#also there was this one time where he found a half dead dude on the moon and brang it home to show to his gay pirate friends#just sayin#and also this harmonica solo over his father's dead body in one eyed jacks#iconic#anyway vote jonny
#literally jonny bites people and eats them regularly
#taylor hebert#worm web serial#jonny d'ville#the mechanisms#final round#tumblr polls#polls#creatures fight!
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Slime girl hrt
So, you’ve decided you’re a slimegirl. I’ve been on fluid replacement therapy, commonly referred to as slime hrt or shortened to frt, for five years but I haven’t managed to find a decent guide on the effects I’ve been experiencing anywhere on the internet. So I’ve decided to make this little guide for anyone who might still be on the fence. Keep in mind obviously I don’t speak for everyone and other goorl’s timelines might look a little bit different based on like genetics or something.
0-6 months
• For the first 3 months the effects are, I’m told, similar to estrogen’s first couple months, you’ll notice for sure your skin getting softer, your face might round out a bit, but the most you get are the side effects
• I personally was not prepared for how thirsty I got, I had heard about it but you really don’t know how much of your body isn’t liquid until you’re replacing all of it
• At 4 months is when I noticed my skin and body were moving kinda differently, tho this got the most pronounced at 6 months
• At 6 months all of my skin rippled like the surface of a pond whenever anyone touched me or like if the wind started blowing
• My joints got a lot more flexible, and my elbows and knees became double jointed (don’t do this too much)
• My hair didn’t get tangled overnight anymore
• My finger prints went away
6-12 months
• Here’s where the real magic starts, I got a lot thirstier for one and specifically had cravings for gatorade, I think this has something to do with slimegirls being partially salt water, but it could also be the food coloring in it (this is a joke about me drinking a lot of light blue gatorade and then being light blue)
• On the subject of color my skin got a sort of blue tinge to it, and most notably got completely see through by my 8 month mark
• The changes start from the thinnest part of your body and goes in towards your core, so even by 5 months your fingertips might be completely clear
• This next part is partially why I wanted to make this guide, so obviously your body doesn’t liquify at the same rate all over, for me this meant I was able to see the muscle in my upper arms if I looked through my fingers, this is both normal and something you’re going to have to get used to as you continue your journey
• Your toes are also going to turn at the same rate, this will probably be your first experience with lint getting in your slime bits, you don’t need to worry about your bloodstream getting infected with sock but regularly picking out bits is good hygiene and something you wanna get into the habit of
• My hair officially finished it’s transition into one solid shape, it still had defined follicles but if you tried to grab a strand of hair the rest would try to come with it
• People also started to ask me who dyed my hair, please note it’s always funny to say “it’s the way Goo-d made me” in response to this
12-24 months
• This window is larger than the others because all you’re going to notice from now on are the big changes
• Avoid tanktops past 14 months, your arms should be entirely translucent at this point and while having a buncha stuff floating around in my goo is kinda gender for me, people generally do not like to see slightly dissolved organs and ribcage
• 14 months was also when I noticed that my arm bones had entirely disappeared, my leg bones were also just barely holding in there, moving without bones was so freeing
• if you ever want anyone you know to stick their fingers in your slime, now’s probably the first time anyone's willing to stick their fingers far into your arms and legs, try to get them to wiggle their fingers. if they’re really adventurous they’ll stick their whole arm through to the other side, which still makes me a little squeamish
• Now that we’re at the part where I was mostly slime, we should probably talk about slime color. I’m going to dispel this misinformation, there is no way to find out what color a slimegirl is going to be before she starts transitioning. Some people say its eye color but that’s a lie. I am naturally a blue slime girl but my eyes pretransition were green. To dispel another myth you can dye yourself with food coloring, so you don’t even really have to stress about it
• By 18 months the only part of me that wasn’t slime was my head, the skull takes the longest time to dissolve because you’re doing the skull and all the organs in there all at once, see the human body really really wants to keep the brain safe, so when your brain gets the signal to get rid of your bones, it just does it all at once
• Some people say their eyesight got better, tho that seems to be anecdotal (mine stayed the same sadly)
• 18 months is also when I started experimenting with my shape. This was probably the most frustrating part of it for me, shapeshifting your goo is like a muscle, the more you do it the easier it’ll get. If you want a specific shape, spend enough time in it, and it’ll become your default shape, though you’ll never forget your original shape.
• 24 months is the last point I want to cover, by 24 months I was 100% liquid, the heavy viscosity from early transition leads to something closer to a liquid jello. I can detach parts of my body and then move to replace it, and I can reabsorb the parts I leave behind
• Clothes should rest just on the surface of you, though I know a lot of girls just change themselves to look clothed (probably more than you think ;)
• Suspenders and heavy cardigans break surface tension for me, luckily that's also a cute look so sometimes I match my cardigan with overalls for an aquarium effect on the overall straps
• This was also when I stopped breathing and going to the bathroom
• Some people report “knowing” when certain parts of their brain turn into goo, I didn’t experience that but it certainly could happen
Things I didn’t know where else they would fit
• I feel like a lot of this post was mainly dry, so in the interest of avoiding having a dry slime girl post, this section will mostly just be slime things that brought me joy
• I love speaking in slime puns, I keep a little book of slime puns and slant rimes just in case the slime arises that i would ever ooze some
• Being out in the rain or being out on a windy day is so much better when you can feel your entire body move in the wind, in particular go out on a rainy day without anything on, and lay down on the ground, the rain rippling through your entire body is heavenly
• Speaking of weather, when I first noticed I was refracting light on a sunny day I almost started crying, I felt so pretty and right :)
• I said I stopped needing to use the bathroom, but I still do siphon off some goo once a month. Mostly this is to get out bits of trash that accumulate and also because it feels exactly like taking a shower after a hard sweaty day’s work
• Speaking of bits, get a powerful magnet and metal shaving and you could probably waste a whole day just moving metal shavings through your body
• This might be a bit late in the guide for this, but when my arms finally turned I pulled a great prank on my at the time girlfriend by sticking my hand into a blender (do not do this if you still have bones, or value your girlfriend not being really really mad at you)
So that's all you need to know before starting frt, becoming the slime of your dreams is a difficult and beautiful process. I know a lot of what i described here might be frightening but if it sounds enticing at all know that it’s worth it.
#hrt that makes you slime#slime girls#slimegirl#slimegender#slimegirls#slime girl#fantasy hrt#creative writing#my writing#writing#slime#the writer's poorly disguised transition goals#slight body horror#transgender#goo girl#goo#monster girl
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𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 !
and it's me getting to write henry being a simp🥴🥰. thank you for requesting, I honestly didn't think I'd get any for henry danger, so just this one has me allll /ᐠo⩊oマ !!! So ya, enjoy :).
𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬
《 ♡ 》 oneshot
───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────
𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 :
being the girlfriend of swellview's resident sidekick could be tough sometimes. always covering for him, constantly worrying about his safety, forever missing him...
but, regardless, he always made sure to remind you that you are the most important thing in his life. even if he has to wake you out of a dead sleep to do it...
𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 :
fem!girlfriend!reader x henry hart - she/her/hers pronouns! - knows henry's super-identity/works with captain man!
𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞 :
during season four (and up) (vaguely) - it's mildly implied to be winter
𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞����𝐭 :
cursing (I think? I don't remember, but just in case lol) - yelling (in a jokey/lighthearted way tho) - henry being so boyfriend - a poison ivy knock-off gets featured in here cuz I thought it would be funny lmao - lmk if I missed anything /ᐠ~˕~マ.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────
As you stocked shelves and marked down certain pricey items for the holiday's swift approach, you couldn't help but huff. Couldn't help but wonder why it was you had agreed to such a position. Hardly anyone even comes into Junk n' Stuff! Why did you have to play pretend employee for a vacant audience when you could be down in the Mancave with Charlotte and Schwoz, observing and maybe even solving crime and mysteries?
At this point, you might as well have taken real a job at a real shop or store.
But, then again... you were getting the bonus perks of higher pay, given as your boss was a literal superhero. And, because of the fact that the whole of Junk n' Stuff was a front, customers were rare. It was like being on break from three to ten, only ever selling to the occasional old person looking for a rare trinket, or a curious kid looking to resell something "vintage." Whatever the case, you were on your phone for most of the time, and were always happy to work alongside your best friend and your superhero boyfriend.
The third perk, you realized, even if you weren't exactly on the field beside him. You supposed it wasn't all bad. It's not like a lot of other girls had the guilty pleasure of saying the same.
"I work at a fake mom and pop shop that barely gets any customers, but it's okay because it's just a cover up for my boss who's actually Captain Man, and his sidekick, Kid Danger, is actually my boyfriend. My best friend Charlotte and I work to keep him safe every other day, and to top it all off, I get paid more than what my parents make in a week."
You shook your head, huffing to yourself in amusement. Not only was it a mouthful to say, but it sounded insane. Not that you'd ever actually say it to anyone but yourself in your head. But, speaking- er, thinking of...
You pulled your phone from your back pocket, taking your focus off of the box of probably stale snacks you were stacking near the front desk and onto Henry's already open contact. You scanned over your thread of texts between each other, your last message from earlier in the day still left on delivered. You didn't take this to heart, already aware of how busy his missions tended to get. And dangerous, too, hence why you had initially sent...
─────────────────────
my man😙❤️
───────────
Be careful out there today, k?
Ily💞✨️
Delivered
─────────────────────
And sure, after checking now, seeing you'd been left on delivered the whole time mildly stung. But you understood and didn't allow that to be the thing that slightly dampened your mood. Instead, you remained worried for your boyfriend, contemplating if you should send another text his way. Or maybe even call him. Just to see...
You fanned the idea away, setting your phone face down on the floor and continuing to do your "job." Anything to take your mind off of the peril Henry could be facing right now, and the last thing he needed was you distracting him. You wouldn't be needy. At least, not right now. But you'd continue to wonder what was happening, where he was, what dangers he was facing...
"Oh...! (Y/N)."
You turned at the sound of your name, smiling as Charlotte stepped out of the elevator.
"It's past ten, I thought you'd be home by now."
"Me too...!" You sighed, a dry chuckle leaving along with. "I guess I was just subconsciously hoping Ray and Henry would be back by now."
Charlotte gave her own chuckle and an understanding nod at your half-joking confession, moving closer until she was squatted beside and assisting you with the rest of your stocking.
"I wouldn't worry too much. They got this. They always do."
"I know, it's just-"
"-Besides, it's only Greenleaf. And you already know..."
You two shot each other a knowing glance, finishing her sentence at the same time together before laughing.
"...She always folds for Ray."
As you set up the last of the snacks, the two of you stood, cardboard box on your hip while Charlotte had scooped up your phone and handed it back to you.
"You're right, you're right." You admitted, tossing your head from side to side with a shrug. "Plus, I'm pretty sure her goals are relatively Mother Nature related. Can't say I blame her."
"Excatly." Charlotte agreed. "She rarely ever does any real harm, so trust me, Henry will text you back before you know it."
And with that, you two shared your final goodbyes for the evening, and your fret had subsided. Like you said, she was right, Greenleaf more of a particular "low level" classified supervillain, which meant an easy battle. If you'd even call it that. You predicted that right about now, Ray was doing his best to appeal to her charm and romance to subdue her, and though gross... it always seemed to work, so you didn't question it.
With that in mind, you finally decided to call in, clocking out for the evening and daydreaming on the walk home of a hearty dinner, a hot shower, and the warmth and cozy of your bed.
───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────
In the comfort of your room with your nighttime routine accomplished, you remained settled in bed with your eyes glued to your phone. Maybe not the healthiest option, but TikTok was very compelling in the late evenings. Especially when you needed a good laugh or a new song/audio to discover and add to your playlist. You scrolled endlessly, allowing the time to tick by without worry or care because tomorrow (in an hour or two) would be a stress free Saturday.
The millionth swipe upwards of your thumb brought you to your next video, a boy and a girl close in age to yourself participating in a trend that had been circling around for a little bit. It was cute, the way they both adorned wide, cheesy smiles, and their pajamas matched with each other. Even while they performed a popular dance, sticking to routine, you could sense the chemistry they had with one another through the screen. All of it ending with the boy scooping her into his arms, littering kisses across her face that she giggled at over the music.
If anyone asked, you'd be a little embarrassed to admit that you had let the video replay several times before giving it a like and then scrolling away. But, you couldn't - no - wouldn't deny the achy feeling it left you with.
Suddenly, you were no longer laughing at everything you saw and/or heard. No longer wishing to be on the app itself any longer because the ache in your chest was growing too much to bear. Too much for you to ignore, thinking about that random couple and their adorable antics.
How much it reminded you of your own boyfriend; how much you really did miss Henry. It wasn't like you didn't see each other often, practically every day. But it didn't stop you from always wishing to be near him, that he was with you. Family, school, and being a superhero did take up quite a bit of his attention, not that you doubted you were the fourth thing on his list. Selfishly, you assumed the second, at least...
But anyhow, in an attempt to rid yourself of the ache and to refrain from pestering him, you migrated from TikTok to your gallery, scrolling around until you reached a large cluster of pictures and videos from days past.
First thing, you were met with a short thread of silly pictures, Henry striking poses and making faces he'd forbid from showing to anyone, and you immediately sent them to Charlotte and Jasper agreed, for the sake of his dignity. Or just some random action shots, the complete blur of his figure due to moving too fast, which you would keep because they were still funny, after all.
But eventually, you came across a video, it automatically playing as you watched in reminiscence of your time at the mall together. You were both fresh from a Bath & Body Works, your phone's point of view shaking and aimed as though it were snooping around in your bag before pulling away and revealing your hand being held by none other than Henry himself.
"What'd ya' get me?" You chirped as though you hadn't just shown the audience already. But, it was clear you wanted to hear it from him at the time, both past/video and present you giggling at the way Henry shot a smirk your way with eyes that read, "Really?"
"What I always get you." He answered simply, looking ahead as you two walked. "The world."
"Harhar." You could be heard giving an equally sarcastic laugh before adding, "Yes, but specifically this time."
"Boba and (signature/scent)."
Again, both past/video and present you shared another laugh, and you were sure of the fact that you were admiring him shamelessly with your eyes full of love at that moment, just as you were now as the video went on.
"How come?" You pressed with glee, Henry's head shifting back towards you as he spoke.
"'Cause I love you. 'Cause you deserve it. 'Cause it feels gooood."
He laughed along with you at the way he elongated his words at the end of his sentence, a quirk he picked up from who-knows-where that always had you playfully rolling your eyes. In real time, though, the video had ended there, and you were swift to find another one, craving more of that feeling... that mock-comfort of Henry being with you when he actually wasn't.
It was the best you could do, for now, so you'd continue, snuggling deeper into your blankets and pillows while his voice kept ringing out from your phone.
"You smell really good." Was his first comment, ironically per the last video, stated while you admired yourself in selfie mode before switching to the back camera.
He was already stalking closer towards your position on his bed, in his room, before flopping down right into your lap and looking up at you like a puppy.
"And I love your eyes."
"My eyes?" You questioned, as though you were surprised, or as if he should be talking about someone else's.
"Mhm." He nodded slowly. "Your beautiful eyes and those lips of yours. You're too perfect, y'might have to get that checked out or something."
Your laugh at his joking statement caused the camera to shake, and it made you realize that in the moment, you had missed the way he continued to behold you. To cherish the rest of your features and run his hand against your lower stomach as his face flushed with red at the sound of your giggles. Laughter he caused, which made him happy, you assumed, given the way he couldn't even fight his own smile.
You wished you hadn't missed it all at the time, but were glad you were seeing it now; all of his love that then went poured into one gesture before the video ended.
He brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles with a gentleness you were still currently missing, the video ending, and the silence of your room setting in.
It didn't help the ache like you thought it would, possibly even making it worse. And because of that, you thought it wise to call it a night, giving your messages one more check before making the last minute choice to send another. A final one for the evening, because at least that would bring you peace of mind.
─────────────────────
my man😙❤️
───────────
Be careful out there today, k?
Ily💞✨️
Delivered
Goodnight
I love you sm<3
❤️✨️
Delivered
─────────────────────
───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────
"So, uhh... you ever try Olive Garden?"
The woman, hair fiery red and a fitted suit made from the vines and plants she created (which were now being chopped away at by police in light of her villainous attempts), shot the man, Captain Man, a look of confusion and disgust. If her wrists hadn't been bound by handcuffs, she'd send another vine after him just for his obliviousness.
"No. I would never in my life..."
She didn't even have to finish her sentence, the tone implying that she wouldn't be caught dead eating from a place that required slaughtering animals and ripping plants from the ground just to serve "fine" cuisine.
"Is Olive Garden not vegan?"
Greenleaf couldn't even fathom a rebuttal to such stupidity, that fact clearly written all over her face as she was hauled away by more policemen. Ray, of course, didn't exactly catch on but jumped at Henry's shout from behind.
"Dude...!" A pause, striking out a hand to further enforce his demand. "Stop flirting with the supervillain...!"
"I'm-! . . ." Ray couldn't even deny that he was doing such a thing (granted, Greenleaf is an attractive woman), but would take advantage of his older age anyhow, pointing an index finger towards his younger partner sternly.
"Mind your business! Unlike you, Kid Danger, I have had the pleasure of time, which has allotted me the grace of perfecting my wit, savvy, and charm, I'll have you know. So-"
He was interrupted by Henry's gloved palm resting against his face, serving as a method to stop him from strolling any closer while Henry casually scrolled through his phone, his tone all the same.
"Hang on, my girlfriend just texted me."
Ray scoffed, seconds away from letting Henry know that he shouldn't be distracted on the job. That is, until he continued to go on with a flat tone, underlying bits of hilarity under it in attempts to get under Ray's skin.
"Y'know, the thing you don't have? The girl I used my natural born wit, savvy, and charm on to win over?"
"I get it!!"
Henry looked up with a smile at Ray's exclamation, innocently nodding with a swift, "Yeah." before putting his attention back to his screen.
─────────────────────
my wife❤️
Be careful out there today, k?
Ily💞✨️
9:23p.m.
Goodnight
I love you sm<3
❤️✨️
11:37p.m.
─────────────────────
What had been giddiness at first morphed into a feeling of guilt, thoughts of your saddened face sinking deep into his brain the moment he realized he had missed your texts. That you had apparently even gone to bed without hearing so much as a word from him all evening.
And sure, he knew you'd probably excuse it the next day, simply telling him that it "was fine" and that you "understood." And while that might be the case, he couldn't help but give in to the thought that you'd much rather have gotten to hear from him tonight. At the very least.
Besides, it's not like he didn't miss you, too. He missed you a lot, actually. You constantly on the brain every single time he fought and/or solved any crime, because if there was one person he'd guarantee the safety of while being in Swellview, it was you. But, along with your safety, he also wanted to make things up to you. He wanted your happiness. And he knew he was one of the sole people who could provide that, therefore...
"Alright, I gotta' get outta' here."
"What?" Captain Man blinked rapidly, unexpecting of Henry's sudden announcement of departure. "No-! No, we have to clean up this mess. Look at all of these vines!"
"Yep, it's...quite the jungle." Henry admitted lacklusterly, nodding to himself before throwing a thumb over his shoulder and slowly backing away. "But, uh, it's Friday, and..."
"Exactly! Friday night, no school, which leaves you plenty of time to help me out. You're on clean-up duty tonight, bud!"
Henry, again, nodded along with Ray's words. He continued to take his giant steps away from the scene, talking fast and only thinking about you in the process, hence why his logic came out a little more than flawed...
"Right, except no, because last I checked, the saying goes, "Blow bubbles fight crime, feels good." Not, "Blow bubbles, fight crime, clean up a mess that's not mine." And, I gotta be honest, that would not feel very good. It would actually feel baaaad, which is exactly how you-know-who is probably feeling right about now..."
"Don't even say her name, kid."
A pause lingered in the air before Henry disobeyed direct instruction.
"I gotta go see (Y/N)."
And he was gone before the conversation could continue, Ray left on his own to help the police with deforesting the city's town hall. And, as much as it behooved him to do so, he couldn't help but admit to himself that if he was still Henry's age with a girl like you, he'd probably do the same.
He huffed, giving his sidekick the benefit of the doubt for tonight.
───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────
Tossing and turning slowly as you woke, you hadn't yet processed what it was that had actually brought you from your slumber until you were fully sitting up in bed, finally able to recognize the sound as a gentle knock.
This then alarmed you, your head whipping around your surroundings in a flurry in an attempt to pinpoint the sound that had spiked up your heart rate in the dead of night. But, once you had managed to place the noise coming from your window, your fear settled into more of a light curiosity and confusion. It brought you from your bed, your feet now met with the cold air around you as you crept forward towards your window.
Steadily pulling back your curtains, your caution slowly turned into joy and surprise, a smile spreading across your face that matched the one on your boyfriend's own face behind the glass.
"Henry...!" You whisper-shouted, his name muffled as he watched you move to unlock your window. He was grateful that you were quick with this action, no longer having to mildly shiver outside while you pulled him through and onto your bedroom floor, admiring his figure in the dimness of your room.
"It's so late, what're you doing here?"
Your question escaped in the midst of a yawn, rubbing the sleep from your eyes while his own darted back to where the clock sat on your nightstand.
12:54a.m.
"I know, I'm sorry, (N/N). I didn't mean to wake you." He apologized, using a nickname that brought another smile to your face once the yawn had passed.
"I just...didn't want you to think I was ignoring you, y'know? I would've answered your texts sooner, I was just-"
"-I know." You cut in with a nod. "I understand, it's okay."
He laughed quietly to himself, all too correct about your compassion when it came to him that he sometimes felt he didn't fully deserve. Like now, keeping his hands hidden behind his back with something that'd hopefully make up for it all.
"It's not, though. I wanna be fair to you with my time. Want you to know that I care about you and that I'll be there for you, whether I'm Kid Danger or just Henry Hart."
"Woah, hey, you're not... just Henry Hart." You corrected, coming closer and placing a tired hand on his shoulder. It was only here that you realized he wore nothing but a white t-shirt, the rest of his super-apparel tied around his waist, red cargo pants and combat boots still intact. Pretty on point symbolism for the moment, if anyone asked you...
"You... are Henry Hart. You're my boyfriend with a lot on your plate, and I know that it's just not fair of me to expect all of your time, which is why I don't. But no matter what, I do love you for giving me whatever you can, so it's very much okay."
You didn't have to be able to see his face clearly to know he was probably just as red as he was in your videos from earlier, his bashful smile going hidden when he let his head drop for just a moment.
"I love you, too." A pause before he quickly debunked your reassurance with some of his own. "And it's not okay, which is why I got you these..."
And suddenly, you realized why he had kept his hands hidden behind him like some wise old man, revealing to you a bouquet of flowers of all kinds. An almost randomized assortment that'd be pretty hard to find in any flower shop. At any shop at all, given...
"Oh my gosh, they're so pretty! It's like, midnight, though, where did you get these?" You squealed quietly, doing your best not to wake up any family in the house while you took the flowers into your hands and admired them the best you could under the moon's light.
"Uhh..."
Henry really didn't know how to answer that, scratching the back of his neck in remembrance of his horrid sneak attempt through his neighbor's backyard.
"I stole 'em." Was what came out way too nonchalantly, leaving you to choke on air while your eyes widened.
"What...?! Henry-!"
"I'm kidding, I didn't steal-... Well... I mean, technically, yes, but not in the way that you're thinking."
"I don't know what I'm thinking...!" You burst through confused laughter. "My boyfriend just told me he stole flowers for me. From where?!"
His eyes shifted from you, to the side, and then back again, folding at the sight of your expecting face looking back up at him.
"My neighbor..." His voice strained quietly, and you could all but sigh and shake your head, letting your nose bury itself back into the makeshift bouquet of freshly stolen flowers.
"That old lady is gonna strangle you with her bare, wrinkly hands."
Henry snorted, sparing you his impulsive thought of the fact she'd have to know it was and catch him first, and instead, fake pain at your light slaps to his chest.
"You're supposed to be a superhero, not a midnight theif...!"
"Hey, c'mon..." He cooed, tugging you closer and smiling when you did begrudgingly move forward towards him.
"...You know I'd go rogue for you any time."
"Y'know, I'm starting to miss Kid Danger." You quipped with a smirk. "At least he'd know better than to pluck flowers from someone's garden."
"Mmm. Fair." He nodded before obnoxiously pushing his forehead up against yours. "But does he kiss you the same way I do?"
"Mmm-"
And before you could pretend to debate the matter, he had done just that, forever gentle with you as he placed his lips on yours and stole any thoughts, stability in your legs, and air in your lungs you had left.
Well, maybe not steal. You'd let him have that any time, the same way he'd bring you flowers at midnight to make up for any of his absences.
Just the thought had you breaking the kiss with another giggle, your turn to grow shy at the attention before you were finally able to fully heal the last little remnants of that ache in your chest.
"You should stay."
You threw it out as a casual suggestion even though you were practically screaming inside for him to say yes. And of course, you got your wish, because what wouldn't he do for you?
"I will."
𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭, 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐨🤭...
but seriously, I really hope you enjoyed, this was super fun and cute for me to write. got me wishing he was under my tree for xmas😔✋🏽.
also, I apologize for this taking as long as it did, there's reasons I have that will be later explained in a separate post/announcement, so ya :'D.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 :
@junknstufff
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wishful thinking. (06)
chapter six: like lightning
summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.
pairing: minho x f!reader
rating: 18+ (minors dni)
genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; mentions of sex, swearing, this chapter is also pretty mild in terms of warnings? the angst begins here tho !!! could've been more edited but yk lol
word count: 4.9k
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
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If I never laid eyes on you
Would I feel something missing?
If you never laid eyes on me
Would you know something’s gone?
Happy Accidents - Saint Motel
You don't know if you've ever changed, even once, in your life.
You feel like you're still 8 years old and your best friend is the neighbors' elderly dog that they let you play with every weekend. She's a golden retriever, and she would stand taller than you if she could walk on two legs.
You're still 16 and your happiest memories are of a boy who doesn't love you back. But all of your friends say that he does, and oh, how much you want to believe that their words are true.
And at the same time, you're 22, just a few months shy of 23, sitting in front of a canvas showcasing your own bleeding heart. Your growing pains, laid out by acrylics and gentle brush strokes. You liken yourself to the figure in front of you, the one that's standing in the corner of your painting, overlooking a sea of blues and grays. There's a piece of you that's left behind in everything you create. Sometimes, you leave it there on purpose, a memorabilia for your future self to look back at fondly.
You think of everything in your life that has changed and how you're the only thing that has managed to remain the same. The dog eventually dies and the boy moves on with his life. The passage of time is relentless but you seem to be the only one who can't keep up with the tireless flow. You're always running in place, always stuck behind in the end. There's a past in which you still live, one where you don’t know if you'll ever make it out of.
You think of home and the search comes up empty, like it does every single time. Home isn't here inside of your own body, nor is it within the four walls of your childhood bedroom. You've never felt like you belong anywhere. Everything is always fluctuating, constantly and unabatingly spinning and spinning and spinning when all you're asking for is a minute to stand still and catch your breath.
Home isn't always a place, that much you know. Maybe home isn't even a thing that you build but something that you find, in a person or a touch, in a feeling or a scent. Perhaps that's the problem, isn't it? Home is something you find, and you've spent your whole life searching.
People say your early 20s are supposed to be the best years of your life but that sentiment has never resonated with you. These are the years that you spend in excruciating limbo, where you're not an adult but you're forced to be anyway. The years where loneliness is an invisible friend that shadows you day in and day out, a presence you don’t want around but can't seem to shake off, a haunting that's far too gentle to be considered such. These aren't your best years; these are your saddest years.
None of it helps build character. It just hurts.
It hurts. You accept that it hurts. You keep on living, always accompanied by the hurt. At some point, it stops bothering you as much; you've grown numb to the way it stings, but it doesn't mean that there aren't days where you're pierced with a sudden and debilitating hollowness in your chest.
Here you are, half an adult but still a child, wondering if you know anything more than you did when you were 8.
You just want to go home, but you don't know where home is.
You look at the small pool of yellow acrylic paint that's been sitting on your palette for a while now. It feels so out of place among the other insipid tones, even though that has always been your intention - a burst of life amidst a sea of blues.
You don't think about anything in particular when your fingers pick up a brush and dab it in a generous amount of paint. It doesn't make much sense, but it feels right. You don't think about anything in particular when your hand smears the color on the cavas, on the figure, a startling stroke right in the center of her chest, contrasting all of the dulls and darkness surrounding.
Though, you do think of him afterward. Of him and daffodils and spring.
The rest of your friends are already present when you and Felix show up at Chan and Jess' shared apartment, holding boxes of pizzas and a case of beer.
It's a cute tradition that was started last year, when all of you promised to gather the final Friday of every month to have a cozy little dinner party among yourselves. It usually takes place at Chan's, since his apartment is bigger than the rest of yours, and because him and Jess are practically the parents of the group anyway.
The second you step into the living room, a chorus of groans erupts all around. Hyunjin and Jisung are the most vocal petulant babies, pouting from their seats, complaining that you two took too long and that they've been starving for hours.
You and Felix shrug off your jackets before delegating the tasks to the lot of them, since you were in charge of picking up the food for tonight. Minho and Seungmin grabbing plates and cups from the kitchen for Changbin and Jeongin to set on Chan's large coffee table.
You opt for a seat on the carpeted floor, next to the spot on the cream-colored couch where Minho left his phone, feeling more comfortable this way since the table is a little low for your liking. They come back a few minutes later, and you smile up at Minho when he reclaims his seat on the couch.
"Hi." He smiles back, smoothing a hand over your hair in greeting.
"Hi," you say. Even a touch so simple warms you up from the outside chill you were in mere minutes ago. No one else notices his lingering hand on you, or it's just such a you and Minho thing to be mildly affectionate with each other that the others don't care to comment on anymore.
You all fall into easy conversation soon after everyone starts digging in, chatting amongst yourselves as you always do. You and Hyunjin lament about your respective projects, reiterating the frustration that you've already expressed through your texts for the zillionth time. Chan and Jess nag Jeongin about introducing his girlfriend to the group, to which the younger one responds with an exaggerated groan as one would when their parents ask about grandchildren, though he does placate them by promising to bring her along the next time there's a party.
You don't care enough to tune into Minho's conversation with Changbin and Felix about the new gym they started going to. You do, however, catch Changbin's attempt to tease Minho. A playful scoff, followed by, "Minho lost his abs ages ago."
Your response is automatic and therefore, it doesn't warrant much thought from you before the words are tumbling out of your mouth. "No, he has abs. They're still there."
You don't recognize the weight of your words until you notice all chatter has halted, and you look up to find all eyes on you.
"How do you know that?" Jeongin is the one to voice everyone's collective thought, puzzled, a little surprised.
"Yeah, isn't Minho notoriously weird about that stuff?" Felix adds.
You blink in a daze, and you don't know if your face is reddening because of embarrassment but you sure hope that it isn't. The mouthful you're munching on gives you a reason to stall, your reputation of being a slow eater makes the excuse more believable when you don't answer right away.
As subtly as you can, you nudge Minho's leg with an elbow. He just laughs, though you're pretty certain he can tell that you're internally freaking out.
"I was walking her home from class a few weeks ago and we got caught in the rain. She let me come up to her apartment to change," he says calmly.
You remember that day. He was walking you from campus back to yours, so that part was true. But it didn't start raining until you were both sheltered in the comfort of your apartment, with him on top of you as he fucked you nice and slow on the couch. You didn't know when the rain stopped, but it must've been some time during your shower that you offered him to join with the innocent intention of cleaning yourselves up and saving water, only for him to end up on his knees with his face between your legs and his fingers buried deep inside of you. He'd made you come three times that afternoon, then took you out to udon afterward.
"And you just... changed in the middle of her living room or something?" Changbin asks, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Minho shrugs, completely nonchalant. "Yeah."
The silence in the room persists as you swallow down the bite. Their stare lingers on the pair of you, then they turn to look at each other like they're speaking a secret language that you're unfamiliar with. Why is it such a scandalous thing for you to see Minho without a shirt? You've seen your other guy friends shirtless numerous times before, when all of you are hanging out in someone's apartment on particularly hot summer days.
Though, they aren't wrong. The arrangement between the two of you muddles your memory, but you don't really remember seeing Minho flaunt his bare skin often before.
You're about to squeeze out a weak response to aid Minho's explanation, but your friends just start nodding along in acceptance.
"I guess that makes sense. If there's anyone who would see him naked, it'd be Y/N."
This definitely makes you blush. Minho laughs again.
"What?! I did not see him naked."
Well, look who's a liar now?
"Y/N, and whoever he's banging," Hyunjin supplies, which seriously doesn't help the flush on your cheeks at all.
"Why would it make sense that it was me?" you protest.
"Because you're his favorite." Jess is the one who answers, to which the rest of your friends all hum in agreement. The way they're reacting makes it seem as though it's just a fact of life that you're Minho's favorite, and that whatever boundary he lets you cross or whatever rule he breaks when it comes to you is simply a result of this fact.
Not once has it crossed your mind that everyone might have a favorite person in the group, but now that it's been said, you quickly conclude that Minho would be your favorite too (your secret arrangement notwithstanding.)
You glance up at him, seeking reassurance with a curious blink. "Am I?"
"You're alright," is what he tells you in lieu of a confirmation. "The least annoying one."
And you don't know if it's the way he speaks ever so gently when he looks at you or how his lips curl up in a knowing smile that sends a tingle of warmth down your spine. Or perhaps the culprit is the softness in his sharp eyes that makes you a little dizzy, makes a pair of butterflies go rampant at the pit of your stomach, as though they're prepared to soar when the ardor of spring begins to thaw the winter frost.
Chan laughs, "That's practically a declaration of love from Minho."
At one point, Hyunjin looks around and comments with a mouth stuffed full of pizza, "Wow. We are literally perfectly divided."
All eyes fall onto him, clearly no one is catching his drift.
Hyunjin swallows his food and washes it down with a big sip of beer before gesturing vaguely at the group, "All the singles are on the floor."
You look at the people on the couch while they stare back at you, Hyunjin, Seungmin, Changbin and Felix sitting comfortably on the fluffy rug.
"I'm single," Jisung says, pointing at himself. "Should I get on the floor?"
"No, you're not," Seungmin says flatly.
"What?"
"Didn't you get back together with your ex girlfriend?"
"What?" Jisung practically squeaks out. "Man, what are you talking about?"
"I live with you. We literally share a wall. I heard you last week. The whole two hours."
“You were home?!”
"My shoes were by the door. I had dishes in the sink. I went to the bathroom to pee several times."
Jisung gasps, growing redder and redder as more eyes start diverting their attention to him. He opens his mouth only to promptly close it as he thinks of what to say. Repeats the process a few times. "We didn't hear you. You never said anything," is what he settles on stuttering out. Then, "Why didn't you bring it up? Why do you have to air out my dirty laundry now?"
"It's more entertaining to embarrass you in front of everyone." Seungmin shrugs, and ignores Changbin's subsequent comment calling him a pervert. "And no wonder you didn't hear me. You were going at it like you were rabid."
"Wait," Jeongin says, "when did you even get back together?"
"We didn't. It's complicated! We're just… y'know…"
When Jisung trails off sheepishly with the bright blush still apparent on his cheeks, Minho cuts in, finishing his sentence bluntly, "Boning."
You send him a glare from where you're seated on the floor, to which he just gives you a lopsided grin and nudges you with his knee.
While everyone else is busy bombarding Jisung with questions on potentially getting back together with his ex, Minho quietly slithers down to the floor like a stealthy cat, squeezing himself into the space between you and Felix. Minho rests his arm behind you on the couch, leaving it stretched out comfortably on the cushions, just lightly touching your back. Usually, when you two are alone, he would have his arm wrapped around your shoulders so he could pull you close, until you're safely tucked into his side where you would remain on most of your evenings spent together. But for now, he leaves his arm where it grazes you only slightly as you sit among friends, with the exception of his hand reaching to play with your hair once in a while.
"Hey!" Hyunjin practically screeches, pointing at Minho when he notices. "Why did you get on the floor?"
"What?" Minho asks innocently. "You said the singles are on the floor."
"You're not single. You have a girlfriend."
"I don't have a girlfriend."
Hyunjin scoffs. "You have a sneaky link."
"Hmm, not the same as a girlfriend."
"Why can't you just tell us, man? There's gotta be something else you're hiding."
You stay quiet, still as a statue while they bicker back and forth, like the mere motion of your breathing could give your secret away. You don't doubt that Hyunjin has been hounding Minho about his new discovery ever since the night of Yeonjun's party, but Minho seems unfazed about it, evading Hyunjin's badgering with a calm composure that's distinct to no one else.
You excuse yourself to the bathroom, quickly shuffling away as if your absence at the table would help make things seem less suspicious for Minho. You splash some water on your face, wait for a while until it feels like an appropriate amount of time has passed for them to have already moved onto another topic. You are, quite literally, hiding from your own friends.
Moments later, you re-enter the room with gentle footsteps and a certain tension in your spine, but you soon grow relieved when you find that the conversation has somehow shifted to Seungmin and his on-again off-again not-girlfriend, about which he just seems kinda sad for a few seconds before he's telling everyone to fuck off and mind their own business, always quick to conceal any and all emotions. He's similar to you in that way, you suppose.
You sit back down next to Minho who's still on the floor, though you put a little distance between your bodies that wasn't previously there. You don't know if it's enough to be noticeable, but he does look at you for a brief moment before leaning a bit closer, asking softly so only you could hear, "Walk you home later?"
You embark on the familiar route from Chan and Jess' place back to yours. It's not that late, barely even 10PM on a Friday night, but the streets are almost deserted. Barely anyone tipsily roaming the streets with their friends in tow; just a few cars passing by every now and then. You relish in the peace and quiet, sighing softly to yourself as you walk in the crisp evening air.
Minho takes casual strides next to you, letting his hand brush against your hand for a while until his pinky finds its way around yours. The tranquility of the city is nice, but being with Minho is even nicer.
Just some of the stars have come out to play, though the way they gleam and glimmer is enough to make up for what they lack in numbers. It's easy to get lost tonight, when you're looking up at an infinite sky with little light and only Minho's pinky hooked around yours like an anchor to guide you back home.
In the grand scheme of things, you're just a speck of dust. You're young and confused - 23 is still a child in your mind - and most of all, you're insignificant. Not in a self-disparaging way. Maybe in the literal sense of the word would be more accurate.
You are insignificant, merely a face among billions of faces. In a crowd of hundreds, or maybe only dozens, you're not someone who would stand out and be picked. Sometimes, it's nice to blend right in and hide in plain sight; you don't particularly enjoy being under the spotlight anyway. But sometimes, it's lonely to be just a drop in the ocean. You could sink right to the bottom and no one would even notice.
Maybe that's why you enjoy being around Minho so much. He makes you feel safe, and seen, like you matter in the end. He makes you feel like if you were to disappear one day, there's a person out there who would go to the ends of the earth in search of you.
You hope that he sticks around, that he wants to be in your life for as long as you can have him. You're not sure what it is that makes you sick to your stomach at the mere thought of losing him; perhaps because you know you will never come across another one like Minho in your lifetime. There's nobody else that can make you feel the same way he does.
I don't want to lose you. You're the only good thing I have.
An intersection, two left turns, and your apartment building comes into view all too soon.
"Wanna come up?" you ask bashfully. The streetlights do a good job at masking your light flush.
"I can't tonight," he says, a little apologetic. "I'm going to my parents' house first thing in the morning."
"Oh." You're disappointed for no specific reason. Sure, you were practically glued to Minho's side for most of the evening, but you were also surrounded by the very friends who are unaware that you two have been sneaking around behind their backs. It's been about over a week since you hung out with him alone, which isn't that long ago by any means, but still. "For the weekend?"
"Yeah, just for the weekend."
There's a selfish urge, just a tiny one, to ask him to come for a while anyway, maybe only twenty minutes or so, but you swallow it down and wave it away. "Okay, have fun. Say hi to the cats for me."
"I'll send you pictures," he tells you. "They miss you, y'know."
You smile at that, laughing a little. "They've met me once."
Last fall, you and your friends all took a weekend trip to Minho's childhood home for his birthday. It was fun for you, though you're not sure how much his parents actually enjoyed it, considering they had to house and feed almost a dozen kids that weren't their own. You remember the cats, of course you do, and how Soonie took an immediate liking to you, how he mostly hovered around your personal space whenever you were in the house.
"No, seriously. My mom says Soonie meows your name once a day."
You throw him an eye roll, accompanied by a light punch to his shoulder.
"Goodnight, Min," you say. "Text me when you get home."
"Okay."
Even after that, the two of you still stay rooted to the spot, your pinkies interlocked. Minho's gaze doesn't leave your face, and for a moment there, it feels like most of the stars didn't show up because they all left to gather in his eyes.
"Can't go up if you don't let me,” you quip, glancing at your hands, knowing full well that you can easily retract your finger if you want to.
His eyes stay on you for just a moment longer. "Let me kiss you," he asks softly, releasing your pinky only to take your hand in his, tugging you closer until you’re all up in each other's personal space.
You blink at him, your heart caught somewhere in your throat. You're close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off his body. "Min…" you murmur but you don't actually know what you want to tell him, so the nickname hangs like an idle lantern in the bubble of space between your faces.
"Just a goodnight kiss."
"Friends don't kiss," you say meekly, reminiscent of your conversation over a week ago.
"Friends don't have sex either," he repeats.
"But we’re not having sex."
"You asked me to come upstairs. What do you think we would've done?"
And he's right. If he had agreed to come up, then you would probably be pressed against the door right now, with his hands trailing down your body, removing every article of clothing they find, his lips kissing every exposed patch of skin along the way.
Minho would've been kissing you regardless - anywhere and everywhere, and you wouldn't have had any qualms about it like you do right now, even though you want to kiss him too.
"Maybe I wanted you to come up to make you peel tangerines for me while we watch a movie."
He says nothing to that, only grins amusedly and leans in to nudge his nose against yours. It's so cute that you can't help but mirror the quirk of his lips. You're sure that no one else gets to see this version of him - the one that boops you like an overly affectionate cat and smiles like you're his favorite person not just in your little group, but in the whole wide world.
"I haven't kissed you all week," he murmurs, his voice so gentle in the quietude that surrounds you. "You were right there but I couldn't kiss you all night."
You lose yourself in his brown eyes, the same eyes that hold nothing but sincerity and fondness for you. The stars here are brighter than the ones overhead.
"Let me kiss you," Minho says, "please?"
You cave. Of course you do.
The first glide of his lips over yours has you weak in the knees. Something sinks in as he kisses you deeply. Under the streetlights, not surrounded by your familiar four walls like a long lost secret but out in the open where anyone can see, even though there's not a single soul around.
Again, tears well up behind your eyelids the same way they did that morning you woke up next to him for the first time. You don't know what it is, never felt this way around anyone except for him. It's akin to the feeling of finally coming home after being away for a long time, or at least that's what you think that's how it would feel.
You don't want to be caged in by the walls of your own making. You want to be seen, and you want to be seen by him. You're the remnants of snow and ice stuck between cracks in the sidewalk, and he is warmth. You're a mosaic of a daffodil garden caught in an endless winter, and he is spring. Minho is the brief but wonderful moment when cherry blossoms have yet to fall from their branches, but green leaves are already growing impatiently, resulting in the beautiful coexistence of pinks and greens if only just for a few days.
You let him kiss you until you're both out of breath, let him wrap his strong arms around your body and hold you like he could mend all of your broken pieces. Maybe he could. Maybe you'd like him to make you whole again.
When Minho pulls away, he doesn't stray very far. He puts enough distance between your faces so you can catch your breath. But even then, you have a hard time getting air back into your lungs. He's looking at you like he would pick the moon for you if you asked, like moving mountains is no more difficult than peeling tangerines for you whenever you get a craving.
The streetlights are dim, but the stars in his eyes are bright enough to tell you something that his words don't.
It hits you all at once, in a moment where even the wind is still, as if it's been reduced to a mere spectator, watching the two of you with bated breath on the sidelines. The tipping point can be something as simple as him asking - almost pleading - to kiss you goodnight with no ulterior motive, no other intention than because he wants to. As though it would kill him if he had to go another minute without kissing you.
You realize why he's the yellow to your sea of blues, why you're so happy every time you look at the bracelet on your wrist. You realize why you feel so safe around him, why he makes you experience emotions that no one else can. You realize why you don’t like hearing about Hana, or any other person in the same sentence as his name with the implication that he could be romantically involved with them.
You realize why you kissed him for the first time all those months ago, and it wasn't because you were sad and he just happened to be there and let you cry on his shoulder. The times that your friends would tell you how you and Minho would be perfect together - you wanted it to be true. You knew it was true - that he was someone you could love, the only person who's worth opening up to. You kissed him because you wanted to love him. You realize why it made you soar when he kissed you back, because you wanted him to love you too.
You realize why the thought of losing this friendship terrifies you. You realize why you asked him to stay that night after the party and the club, even though you had never allowed him to sleep over before. You realize why the other week you let him only kiss you and nothing else, and you realize why your heart is hammering in your chest this very second, why your knees are weak, why you can't really breathe here in the middle of an empty street under a moonless sky, just because he's looking at you as if it's not the sun that the earth revolves around but rather, it's a girl who has never learned how to say what she means.
You're good at leaving things alone; it's a skill that you've unintentionally mastered over the years. Nothing has to change if you let it remain the same. And yet, the one exception always seems to be Minho, and you're a mirror of yourself when you're with him. You like the version of you that only he's able to bring out, and he does it effortlessly every time. He pulls happiness out of you so easily that it's hard to ignore what you feel for him, hard to convince yourself that what you harbor for him is still only platonic affection.
It comes bubbling up to the surface without your permission. It strikes you the same way lightning splits open the whole sky on a cloudless night, abrupt and unmistakeable. Love isn't something that you've ever come close to, and you have always been an unbeliever when people answer "You just know," in response to "How do you know when it is love?"
Though as you stand right here, right now, you think maybe this is what love is supposed to look like, personified with starry eyes and shallow dimples when he smiles.
Before he leaves, Minho presses another sweet kiss to your cheek. You're still dazed by the dawning, overwhelmed by the recognition that you can only mutter a stupid "Bye," when he bids you good night.
As you watch him go, there's something else you realize, almost tragically, that you've always been a ruiner. You run away the moment shit starts getting too real, even if it means letting beautiful things slip through your fingers like running water.
Love just isn't something you've ever learned to hold.
all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 15.04.2024]
#stray kids fic#stray kids imagines#stray kids x reader#skz fic#skz imagines#skz x reader#skz x you#lee know fluff#lee know angst#lee know smut#lee know scenarios#lee know x reader#lee know imagines#lee know x you#lee minho x reader#lee minho x you#stray kids#lee know#lee minho#fic: wishful thinking
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I'm sorry but the more I think about the Rebirth ending the more I love it actually like. The whole trilogy has been a meta commentary of sorts and, specially, Aerith's death is at the epicenter of it. She both dies and doesn't die exactly because us, as an audience, want both things to happen.
People have been clamoring to be able to save Aerith since 1997, there were fake hidden hacks, AU fictions, retellings, everything. Everyone has been at Squeenix's doorsteps begging them to let us save her. Like, it's at a point where the "Square will let us save Aerith if you pay for the DLC" joke is much more than a decade old.
On the other side, there's this very expressive unwant for any change whatsoever from the source material. It's not a feeling that is exclusive to FF7 either, there's this very clear pushback against any new remake/adaptation that deviates, even slightly, from it's original. People don't want new content, they want the old one they experienced when they were younger, but prettier, they want to both feel the nostalgia and experience everything as if for the first time again.
From that camp, I think the most prominent argument is that FF7 is about loss, right? And they're not wrong. Aerith's death is the crux of the story, it's the very thing that made FF7 as known as it is, there would be no actual weight to what it's trying to tell if the heroine doesn't die in the middle of it, an unexpected, hurtful, avoidable death. What's the point of a narrative about grief if you can just... avoid losing someone? Avoid having it be cruelly taken from you?
And yet, you see, if want someone to die, if you want something to be taken from you, are you really losing it? In the original, part of the impact was that no one could see it coming, it was a straight representation about how death is sudden and takes away opportunity from you. Aerith doesn't go into the sleeping forest willing to make a sacrifice for the greater good, she has barely started her adventure, she makes a promise to go on the highwind, the group is one location away from finding out more about her ancestry and her family.
That's not true for the remake, tho. Everyone knows about her fate, about what is going to happen to her. That's probably the most spoiled moment in video game history. I personally knew about her death before I truly understood what Final Fantasy even was. So now we have an audience that is extremely aware of what, when and how her death is going to happen. That's why the Confluence of Worlds is put at that moment, because it's the single most expected moment in the entire triology, it's the one moment that made the narrative resonate so well.
The impact is impossible to recreate now, even for newer fans of the series. People want a 1:1 retranslation but such a thing would always be a gimmicky shadow of it's original. It's why the focus shifts, now the most emotionally impactful scene is not the killing of her but of her goodbye, in the church after the dream date. "Thank you," Aerith echoes "It's been fun", a callback to her conclusion on Remake where she says "I'm grateful for all the words we shared. All the moments and the memories. You've made me more happy than you know."
So she dies and she doesn't, both at the same time. Effectively in limbo now, narratively explained by lifestream shenaningans. We put her there ourselves, by refusing to move on, refusing to accept her death but also refusing to change, allowing a different outcome. I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing, at least, Aerith's words sound like the very sincere feelings of the developers, who are grateful for all the love we all have powered into their work all these years.
I just love it so much, I could spend hours talking about it.
#ff7 rebirth#ff7 rebirth spoilers#ff7 remake#final fantasy vii#aerith gainsborough#aerith#meta analysis#ff7
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Hazbin hotel theory (not circus related 🙄)
So we all know Charlie and Vaggie resemble alot of Lucifer and Lillith right?
Lucifer is a fallen angel and Vaggie is a fallen angel. Both sacrificing so much for their lovers. Both having different ideals and beliefs aside from the majority of heaven, because of that they both end up in hell. Also literal head over heels for their wives. Lucifer still wears his ring and Vaggie has very few scenes outside of Charlie.
Charlie and Lillith are both demons, although I guess Lillith is more human I think. But, they both fit in the other category. They both have fallen angel lovers. It's said in the opening cutscene that Lillith was an activist who sang as a way to influence. Charlie is an activist who sings in "ready for this" to persuade the cannibals to join her fight against heaven.
Personality and design wise though, Charlie and Lucifer are the most similar. Lillith and Vaggie? From what we've seen Lillith seemed loving in her pictures but calm and serious at the majority, if that doesn't describe Vaggie I don't know what does. Also Lillith wears purple and Vaggie is at this point purple coded 💀
It's implied that Lucifer had romantic or at the least smeggsual 🤭 relations to Eve. Sure it could have been a joke/lie, but clearly Adam gets pissed and doesn't say that he's wrong. I'd like to think Lillith and Eve also had romantic ties but there's not enough shown of them to make even an evidential guess. It's obvious tho that Lucifer at least was with the both of them at some point. (Maybe even Eve gave birth to Charlie since Lillith was cursed with miscarriages. At least if Viv still wants to keep that. No. No... Lucifer did NOT give birth to Charlie... youre jst weird... /j)
So... if Lucifer, Lillith, and Eve were once all in a polycule or at least a vee(two date one)....
who would be the one that stands in as Eve since Charlie and Vaggie are Lillith and Lucifer?
Plot twist. I'm a two and half halo shipper. It's Emily yall... 😨
HEAR MEE OUTTT!!!
In this image below, Vaggie is jealous that Charlie is holding Emily's hands(YES. CHARLIE IS HOLDING HER HANDS, NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND. Charlie is very touchy sshh) which is kind of weird they would include that tiny scene. Sure, it could just be comedic but what's comedy except a person who looks too much into a small 1 millisecond scene. It still puts in a dynamic that at first isn't implied to be romantic but! But, having this one scene still creates a slightly romantic undertone dynamic. Even if it's not heavily implied, Vaggie sees Emily as someone who's taking moves on her girlfriend. (Which could also imply Lillith and Eve's first impression before they got in a polycule.)
What I'm about to say is pure speculation, there still isn't much to go off of in the show at the moment with these six. But I think I have some points that maayyy just be smart for an idiot like me :3. Emily is an angel yes, but we aren't sure what Eve's fate was, where she went or what happened to her after. Maybe she stayed with Adam(after the creation of sin), and if Adam could go to heaven, a man who also ate the apple, then I believe Eve could too, it doesn't matter who started(assuming Adam did eat the apple in the show. Most likely.) What I like to speculate is that Eve went to heaven with Adam, although she didn't feel happy in their marriage and decided to make herself a fallen angel to be with Lucifer and Lillith, her true lovers.
Now the similarities with Eve and Emily? They both are against the ideas of those higher than them in heaven. Emily is against the idea of extermination in hell because she feels its unnecessary genocide. Eve went against heavens orders and ate the apple from Lucifer for knowledge. Oh also look haha their hair is kinda similar in the images below(not actual evidence but still its kinda cool) That's where the current canon similarities end. But ofc the big well known theory is that Emily will become a fallen angel because she goes against Sera's wishes. I HOPE she doesn't but in this show? Yeah, most likely. Currently Emily hasn't taken action, but maybe one day she will, which is the most likely situation. And if I'm right that Eve was a fallen angel then that would also be ANOTHER similarity. (Also. Ya'll.... the woman who picked up baby Charlie in "more than anything" was NOT Lillith. Like okay, maybe she is, but that didn't look like her AT ALL. She didn't have the same slick back mullet. But, in the image below, Eve and the woman who picked up baby Charlie have the exact same hair. Jst another thing I wanted to throw in to further evident that Lucifer Lillith and Eve were in a polycule/vee)
I LOVE TWO AND A HALF HALOS SO MUCH GUYSS. PLEASE FEED INTO MY NAIVETY. LUCIFER'S STOLEN WIVES AND CHARLIE'S ANGELS ARE LITERALLY CANON AND NO ONE CAN SAY OTHERWISE TO ME 😭😭
BONUS!! Adam is Lillith's ex rightt??? Well Lute is basically Vaggie's ex. Sure, you could argue that- no. No girl, they was exes, I know, Viv told me herself smhhh..... not only are both Lucifer and Vaggie fallen angels because they had different ideals from heaven, Lillith and Charlie are both activists who use their voice as powers, Eve and Emily go against heaven, BUT LILLITH AND VAGGIE BOTH HAVE EXES??
Bro, Adam and Lute are also besties like? The polycules kicked them out and then they were like, "nuh uh, now we're gonna date eachother since yall don't want us" 😭
Basically what I'm saying is that Lucifer's stolen wives and Charlie's angels are Canon and no one can say otherwise because I'm so smart. If anyone says they aren't just link them to here and BOOM we got another one added to the small ship. Also. This is so underrated. Ya'll.. the potential is so crazy. And since Charlie and Vaggie are already established it would be so intense and adorable to watch Emily try to impress and date them both. Uggghh so.... hyperfixated..... I hope this isn't my special interest now 😭
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin hotel lilith#hazbin hotel eve#hazbin hotel charlie#hazbin hotel vaggie#hazbin hotel emily#lucifer morningstar#lillith morningstar#eve morningstar#because atp thats her name bro 🙄#charlie morningstar#vaggie#two and a half halos#unholy trinity#what are the ship names again#lucifers stolen wives#I DONT KNOW IF THERES A SHIP NAME FOR THEM I HAVENT CHECKED AT ALL#chaggie#rainbowmoth#varlie#angelicmoth#royalhalo#lucilith#hazbin hotel theory#hazbin theory#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel lute#ALSO. SINCE EMILYS BLOOD IS GOLD LIKE THE POOL IN MORE THAN ANYTHING WHEN CHARLIE TOUCHED THE URINE IN ALASTORS CIRCUS#DOES THAT MEAN EMILY KNOWS THAT ALASYOR IS SECRETLY A CIRCUS THAY LURES PPL INTO HIS TENT TO TOUCH HIS URINE??!?!?!
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ׄ ׅ ྀ 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚 .ᐟ
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ✶ ׅ ࣪ smut, oral!male, pet names; (baby, mama, pretty girl, slut), p in v, protected sex; (always wrap before you tap!)
𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 ✶ ׅ ࣪ dom!chris & fan!reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ׄ ׅ ྀ summer been a fan of the triplets for ages. you finally were able to get tickets to their new “LTT” coming up. when summer arrived; she had been so anxious. anxious for one thing only. chris sturniolo. summer had the biggest crush on him since she had started watching the channel. and one thing she knew; he doesn’t fall for fans. or she thought she knew.
chris - orange
summer - pink
ׄ ׅ ྀ SUMMER’S hands were shaking as she walks into the building for the let’s trip tour. she has been nervous about coming since she bought the ticket’s.
she wasn’t nervous to see matt, or nick. she was actually the most excited to see nick. but summer was nervous to see chris. ever since she began watching their channel she’s gained the biggest crush on the youngest triplet.
his hair— his eyes— his personality, just every little thing about him she thinks is perfect.
when she walks in, she follows the carpet on the floor to the booth for meet and greets. she was luckily able to get the premium ticket’s so she gets to meet them twice and take a group photo as well.
their booths go in birth order. nick ; matt ; chris. oh was she nervous to see chris. summer has no clue what she would even say to him— to any of them.
she’s atleast 10th in line, so summer has to wait a couple of minutes to even begin the session. when she walks up she’s greeted with nicks face. he’s got his arms open for a hug which she quickly accepts. they talk about thinks from vlogging to music to anything until time runs out. their time limit was short as hell so she wasn’t able to finish their conversation.
next is matt— she was getting more nervous by the second knowing chris is just after this one. she takes a glimpse over as she catches chris’s eyes on her, but he takes them off quickly before she fully has time to process anything.
her and matt really just walk about writing or anything under those lines. he’s more of a comfort triplet in her eyes since they struggle with the same things. they take their photo as summer gives him one last hug as she grabs her signed cards and walks over to chris’s stand.
he already has his arms wide open for her, which she accepts just like the rest. she could smell his dior sauvage with how close their contact was. he pulls away and looks down at her— a huge smirk plastered on his face.
“so, what’s your name?” chris asks as he bends over and begins to sign her card. she clears her throat. “s-summer,” she stutters. she stutters. fuck that’s embarrassing!
“cute name,” chris says in a flirty tone. she doesn’t take it that way tho because she KNOWS he would never flirt with a fan. especially a fan he’s known for less than 30 seconds.
summer mumbles a quick thank you as she looks back up at him, her cheeks turning a cherry color from their eye contact.
“so,” he says as he runs his hand through his hair, she thought that was the most attractive thing ever. “you got the premium ticket? y’know, for another selfie later?” chris asks as she nods. she can’t pull herself to say anything.
“alright alright, see you later then?” chris asks as his bottom lips now in his mouth, top teeth out for display. this makes her feel some type of way. “see you later,” she says to his as he hands her the signed card.
their time runs out, but chris pulls her in for another hug as he shoots his brothers a secret wink, them rolling their eyes. chris’s hands find her waist as he gives them a squeeze, letting her walk off.
ׄ ׅ ྀ chris point of view .ᐟ
FUCK. the moment the fan— summer— walked into the room, i couldn’t control myself. her dark brown hair that lays on her shoulders covered in freckles made me feel some type of way.
she’s perfect. she’s all i’ve ever wanted. i gave her the last hug as i look over at matt and nick and give them the — i want her — look. they let out a silent laugh as they roll their eyes at me.
i give her waist a squeeze as i watch her walk off. she’s so fucking perfect. all i’ve ever dreamed about if i’m being completely honest.
jesus fuck— how am i gonna last on stage knowing she’s there. watching us. watching me.
a tent builds up in my pants as i think about her, thinking about the possibility’s i have with the girl. summer, that’s her name.
cute name for a cute girl.
ׅ ྀ summers point of view .ᐟ
I swear i was catching chris looking at me on stage with that slutty smirk on his face. jesus christ. i know he’d never get with a fan, but the way he’s acting— i’m slowly second guessing my assumption.
i would catch him giving small smirks and winks towards my way, girls behind me saying it was for them. if only they knew.
i felt my core grow wetter every time his eyes landed on mine. his eyes would constantly move down to my lips, causing them to get sucked between my top teeth. fuck i just wanted him so bad.
i wasn’t even paying attention to what was happening around me, but all i heard was chris winning- cheers- and girls saying freaky shit.
right before he walked off stage while everyone was leaving the crowd, christ’s eyes moved to me and he shot me a “excited-to-see-you” wink.
ׅ ྀ 3rd person point of view .ᐟ
as she walks up to meet the three, chris’s eyes immediately wandering around her body. the sexual tension between them was beginning to get to intense, both of them wanting nothing bout to fuck each-other senseless.
after hugging the other two, she hugs chris, “missed me?” he mumbles against her ear as he pulls away— her just looking at him.
she poses between both chris and nick, doing just a group photo. chris’s hands wander around her waist like earlier, giving it a squeeze. the heat between her core was burning— all she wanted was him.
*FLASH!* the camera clicks as she walks away from the boys, giving chris a little wave.
after that you either left or went to the back for the last round of photos, which the second option was summer’s.
she walks over and has her talks with the other 2 triplet brothers as they talk about anything, talking 0.5’s, tiktok’s, whatever.
then it was chris. his eyes were already on her the whole time which caused butterflies to swarm all in her stomach.
“hey chris,” she mumbled as she went in for another hug, chris’s hot breath going right onto her neck. “hey pretty, missed you y’know?” he says. what a fucking tease he is.
“really? to bad theirs only 3 minutes left,” summer tells him as she looks up to get a better view of him, sudden boldness coming out. her words made chris’s eyes widen, “yeah i know,” chris says as his eyes wander to the room next to him.
BATHROOM!
a smirk plasters on chris’s face as he notices the girls jaw slightly dropping, knowing what he was getting at. “i—“ summer clears her throat. “you know! maybe i should just—“ she starts to finish her statement from before but quickly gets dragged by her wrists by chris.
summer hears a click from a lock as chris’s hands find their way to the hem of the cargo skirt she wore. “been thinking of taking this off you,” he mumbles as he places a soft kiss right under her ear. his hands find way to her throat as he backs her up into the wall and places his lips on her roughly.
“f-fuck,” she breathes out which allows chris to slide his tongue past her lips, exploring every inch of her mouth that he could. the sound of teeth clashing and wet noises filling up the hollow room. “mmgh- fuck, knees,” he says as summer quickly gets on her knees as told.
he tries to take his belt off but he can’t, so summer quickly steps in to help. she takes his underwear down with his black jeans as her eyes widen at the sight of his length.
“like what you see baby?” he whispers as her eyes look up into his, she doesn’t reply as her hand is met with the base of his cock. his angry red tip on display right in-front of her eyes.
she lets spit drip down from her lips as she takes all the length that she could into her mouth— bobbing her head up and down. chris’s hands find their way into her hair as they make a ponytail.
he helps her take his full length as she stays their for a few seconds, then continuing to suck him off. groans come from chris’s mouth. he could get off at just the sight of you.
“such a fucking slut— my slut,” chris groans out-loud which caused her to get more soaked— which at this point wasn’t even possible.
right before chris was about to cum into your mouth, he pulls out. you let out a whimper as you stand up. he grabs the condom he left in his pocket as he puts it on around his length.
“c-“ before you could finish, your stomach hits the sink in front if you as he rips down her skirt, wasting no time to stick himself into her core. a loud groan falls from both their lips as she adjusted to his size. fuck was he huge.
“don’t have long— gonna cum!” chris moans a little louder than expected as the room is filled with skin slapping and groans from the pair.
he pushes his full length into you as he rolls his hips, a loud whimper coming from your mouth. “fuck chris, so good. so good!” she moans which made chris let out a satisfied whimper.
“fuck mama’s, gonna cum! gonna cum!” he moans as his load shoots into the condom, slowly pulling out of you. both your chests rising with slight sweat on you both. “fuck that was amazing,” you whimper out as you get your skirt back on.
“mm, yeah it was. doing that again for sure mama’s.” chris says. again?
#ׄ ׅ ྀ 𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬 .ᐟ#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#chrissturniolo smut#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#nathan doe#nick sturniolo#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#nathan doe smut#smut
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Every single concept with ProHero Dynamite having socials and showcasing his s/o to the world only to receive a crazy online following response and get amazing PR points. IS. SO. GOOD. 👏
———— BUBBLEGUM POP————
Personally I like to imagine that Bakugou likes to do the occasional gym workout video.
his socials include quite a lot of shirtless pics of him at the gym with kirishima anyway so he’s not opposed to having a gym livestream (he’s got a pretty solid following from his cooking videos!)
And so Bakugou usually just sets up his phone or laptop on some shelf in the corner of the gym. The whole stream is just him going about his workout. In his tanned chiseled, glistening, and shirtless glory. The signature Dynamite scowl center frame!
The videos are usually punctuated by him being greeted by various ProHeros floating around the gym.
However, once again Red Riot is a frequent guest as he’s more often than not Bakugous spotter and gym buddy.
- but there’s sometimes where you like to go to the gym with him.
and despite the eccentric looking plethora of proheros his online followers seem to notice you whenever you do show up in the background.
and it’s just little you tagging along, doing your own thing.
usually you’re dressed up like you’re secretly supposed to be the star of this show. some cute little matching sports bra and bike shorts number, and a sporty updo, but you’re never actively interested in being on the stream.
you’re understandably a little body self-consciousness in front of the camera, it’s completely normal, even tho ‘tsuki thinks you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.
- you are damn gorgeous. yes, it’s a fact.
and you actively try and take care of yourself
regardless Bakugou loves when you tag along. always moving things around in his duffel bag to accommodate your water bottle, wireless earbuds, and a spare towel.
he knows you’ve gotta have these things.
and he always has a spare hair tie on his wrist even tho his bag already has a healthy sprinkling of scrunches stuffed in the side pocket.
————
Katsuki’s checking his social media one week raising a brow as he sees your name popping up in all the comments from his last gym video
“the fuck’ what’s so crazy ‘bout what she’s doing in the background at 23:45??”
Bakugou curiously hovers his mouse over and finds that exact timestamp to see what these extras are all chatting about ??
and it’s just him doing some regular deadlift routine and he can’t figure out the hype until he starts to notice some movement behind him
“Huh?”
and if he zooms in there’s a lil’ mini you on the screen absolutely lip-singing and strutting/ arm-dancing your little heart out over on the treadmill
and suddenly all those comments . . .
‘Y/N’s on fire 🔥’
‘PARTAYYY IN DA BACK’
‘Turn around.’
‘ TURN AROUND DYNAMITE UR GIRLS GETTING IT BACK THERE’
‘does she have her earbuds in? WHAT is she listening to?? 🥹😂’
‘quick! someone tell @proherodynamite!’
. . . on his feed make perfect sense.
and Katsuki just keeps replaying the little clip of you being in you own world. until he puts up one comment that blows up in response.
‘yes. she’s got her earbuds in you fuckin’ extras.’
—————
but you bet the next time you’re tagging along to the gym. the people are on a mission.
On. A. Mission.
and your bf Bakugou Katsuki, for that matter.
so the next time you’re going he makes sure you have your “fuckin’ earbuds fully charged and all that shit’ “
and you just breeze past him in your neon pink outfit that reminds him too much of Pinky and press a chaste kiss to his cheek with a small “thanks” as his palm rests against the small of your back to steady yourself on your tiptoes in those chunky cushiony running shoes of yours
And he wanders off to set himself and the livestream fans up in a corner of the gym that’s got a good angle of you over at the treadmill area
And he can’t lie . . . he’s kinda invested.
Bakugou is doing some mindless arm work so he can focus on the music playing in his earbuds from the Bluetooth pairing mode he has turned on
so him and the fans are all watching as he grunts and walks over to grab another weight
“so far nothing yet” he mutters towards the laptop.
It’s just your usual playlist that he recognizes filtering through his ear. All bubbly and pop. Just like you, he grins.
catching a look over at your form walking it out; with that perfect posture you pride yourself on. your hair all done up in a bubble braid ponytail. - and yes he knows what that is he had to wait for you to do it before driving your ass over here.
when suddenly your stride starts to change and Bakugous perceptive red eyes notice the way your face lights up and all of a sudden you’re glowing
like a queen caught up in your own world as the next song comes on
and it’s . . .
BTS’s Dynamite . . ?!
that’s the one that’s got you strutting and dancing and lip singing all the way across the room?
And Katsukis back is to the livestream, facing you, as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head.
“Of course,” you went ga-ga dancing to the one KPop song with HIS hero name as the title.
Katsuki then, expertly schools his face back into the scowl as he turns to type in the chat to the livestream:
‘Attention Extras’: the song Y/N is listening to is Dynamite. 💥’
#katsuki bakugou#bakugou imagine#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugou headcanons#dynamight#pro hero katsuki#fluff#not edited at all sorry#not sorry lol#I’m trying to get into working out and going to the gym this year#so hopefully this works#some good vibes my way lol
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I know we've got Lottie x innocent reader.. But what about th othe yjs 🤔🤔🤔
ooooh 🤭 imma give a few thoughts for each of them cause i love this but can't come up with full hcs sorry. thank you for continuing the innocent reader vision anon 🫶 also this is more with their adult versions in mind!
shauna -
- shauna adores your innocence, she literally thinks it's the cutest thing ever when you two first get together, how you haven't done anything like smoking or drinking, how you wear whatever clothes you want without realizing the way people look at you in said outfits
- she will subconsciously baby you tho, she will of course stop if you say for her to but she loves babying you :( not in like a weird way but just in a nurturing way that shows she loves you dearly
- she has such a thing for marking you up for everyone else to see how your hers and hers only, a smile always forming on her face whenever you don't try to cover it up and you two go out being given weird looks by the amount of hickeys on your neck
- she tries to start out slow with you during your first time with her but she can't help but get rough at the sounds of you whining and moaning just for her :(
nat -
- she's the one who enjoys your innocence the most, the fact that you have barely done anything rebellious in your life leads nat to being the gf who will make you do reckless things and live life to the fullest, maybe getting arrested in the process (oops)
- nat also thinks it's kinda cool that you two are polar opposites when in public and you're wearing the cutest thing possible and she's just in her leather jacket and jeans, she'd rather die than use the word aesthetic for how pleasing it is, but that's what it is lol
- nat is also the biggest on the corruption side of things, to just break down those innocent walls that stop you from whimpering her name underneath her is like winning a prize to her and when you finally let go of feeling shy and innocent, she is going to make sure you know you're hers
- thinking of her teaching you how to ride her strap for the first time and she slowly coaxes you into moving your hips faster and make more pretty noises for her, smiling at your whines before flipping you over and just pounding into you
misty -
- misty definitely takes advantage of your innocence, most of the time without you even realizing it, which makes it better for her in the end when she makes you do things that you wouldn't do otherwise without her there, it gives her a sense of pride and that she's needed
- she also just thinks it's cute when you have little to no idea what's going on or when people try to flirt with you and you just think they're being nice, misty is one to get jealous, but just so she can take you back home and make sure you remember who you belong to
- misty is the second biggest on corruption imo, she loves how innocent you are, buying you pretty revealing clothing to wear around the house so she can have you whenever she wants and seeing your eyes widen when she grabs you by your hips pulling you towards her gets her going so bad she will take you right then and there
- roleplay is huge for misty, especially medical themes, and she loves opening your mind to those things and show you how to have fun and have a good time as well even when she's three gloved fingers inside of you and is degrading you beyond belief mixed with praises
tai -
- the only normal one (jk), tai is one that thinks it's cute and enjoys the way that your innocence is genuine and how it's just how you are, not like you're doing it on purpose or something
- tbh tai doesn't seem like she would get jealous because of it, will she glare daggers at whoever is attempting to flirt with you to the point they back off? yes. but she won't be verbal about it 😭 you go over to her wondering why the overly kind person just left and she's like "ah idk babe" acting like she wasn't killing them with her mind
- tai will make you be verbal with what you want, she won't do anything until you tell her what it exactly is that you want, loving to see the way you break down crumbling and soon start begging for her to do something, anything
- you cannot tell me this woman doesn't have a thing for being called ma'am, like you'd say it as a joke and she would immediately change up and tell you to say it again which leads to a newly found word to use when having sex
van -
- van thinks your innocence is a little silly at first (affectionately), how you don't realize the certain things you do would be seen as flirting or not noticing when others are flirting with you, they think its silly
- they definitely show you all kinds of movies you haven't seen before to expand your horizons of cinema and entertainment, especially the more spicy ones to open your mind to some things 🤭
- van grins so hard when you tell them you wanna try something that you saw in a movie or something else and immediately drops everything to do it, they'll take their time with you to make sure you actually want to do it before going down on you like never before
- van is into experimenting with anything, whatever you wanna do they will gladly do for you, you basically become their pillow princess/prince and they will make sure the neighbors can hear cause they just love the sounds you make when they're pounding into you with their strap
#yellowjackets x reader#yellowjackets#shauna shipman x reader#shauna x reader#natalie scatorccio x reader#nat scatorccio x reader#nat x reader#misty quigley x reader#misty x reader#taissa turner x reader#taissa x reader#van palmer x reader#van x reader#yellowjackets thoughts 💭
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Hi, I saw you were asking for requests and I thought I'd give you an idea for Max Verstapppen x reader fic. I don't request much so if it's too detailed I'm sorry, you can change anything you want, it's just a scenario I've had in my head for a while. I was thinking about enemies to lovers, grumpy x sunshine (also I'm a sucker for angst with a happy ending) ❤️❤️❤️
Ok, so imagine this: Reader is a new redbull media person/photographer and Max has an instant crush on her but acts like an a**hole cause he can't understand his emotions towards the reader. Other drivers tease him about it. I imagine someone ask why he doesn't like her and Daniel just straight up says "cause he loooves her" and Max gets all flustered. The reader is an absolute sunshine and tries to make him like her, even tho she is hurt by his behaviour. At some point (maybe right before a race or smth) he says something about her and she overhears and is heartbroken and suddenly stops talking to him.
I don't have an idea for an ending except that if you are up to I would love some smut 😂
Behind your walls
Max Verstappen x Reader
Genre: grumpy x sunshine, smut, angst if you squint.
Request: yes and it made me so happy. I hope I did your idea justice! My requests are open (specifically for Charles, Max Lando, and Oscar). Please don't hesitate to send in an idea!
Summary: Max knows he loves you but can't admit it to anyone, including himself. What happens when you over hear something he say? Will he be able to finally be vulnerable?
Warnings: Max is a jerk (blame is on Jos), pining, mentions of anxiety and a panic attack, smut, fingering, oral (female receiving)
Notes: second pov, I got a bit carried away, and I've never written smut before, so figured crossed it's not as cringe to you as it is to me. I think I changed like one or two things about the request but tried to follow it as much as I could.
If you have the chance, please check out my other work. likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. I've started posting small snippets relating to my novel I'm currently editing, support for that is also always appreciated.
Masterlist
The following media is intended for those 18 and over. If you are underage, then please don't interact with this post.
Max has never been the best at dealing with his emotions. Sure he’s had his fair share of girlfriends, but all of them ended in confusion and heartbreak because of father wanting him to dedicate his entire being to racing.
So he did the only logical thing and walled himself off. Only having the occasional fling and never letting himself get to attached.
Then everything changed when he met you. Your sweet personality hired to drag him around all of his PR duties.
He'd made several of his PR managers quit. Ironically, not because he was an asshole to them, but because he had a talent for hiding from the press. It drove his managers insane. Redbull hoped that hiring someone warm and gentle was that you could coax him into fulfilling his responsibilities.
Everyone seemed to love you. Wherever you went, smiles followed. You'd even managed to convince Daniel into being productive and out of whatever his next shenanigan was. Not that you minded them, often laughing along with him if the situation arose. And to everyone's surprise, Max did spend more time with the reporters.
This, however, came at a price. For some reason that nobody could understand, Max Verstappen despised you. Or that's what you thought.
Max himself just thought he was doing the right thing for himself. No matter how many delicious coffies you brought him for early mornings. No matter how many of his jokes caused you to laugh. No matter the praises for wins and comforts for losses. Not even the look of admiration and respect you had for him and how he wanted nothing more than to sweep you away from this terrible world. He would not fall in love.
So he became a jerk to you. Giving you the cold shoulder. He always made sparky remarks at your expense. He even went as far as verbally telling you to 'piss off' even though deep down it hurt him too. Yet you still never wavered. Merely brushing it off and going back to whatever you were previously.
One day during a race weekend, Max found himself with Daniel during his downtime. The two of them eating lunch and chatting about life. The conversation was pleasant until Daniel brought up you.
"I don't understand why you don't like her, mate." Daniel chuckled a little, but there was genuine curiosity behind his eyes. Then, a realization hit the Australian. "I bet you love her! Like a crush from a schoolboy!" He announces for everyone in the vicinity to hear.
Was he wrong? No. But Max wasn't going to tell him that.
"You're wrong, mate. I personally find her incredibly annoying." He scoffed. He was also trying to convince himself of this. It wasn't working like he'd been intending.
"Why do you think? She's like the sweetest person I've ever met." Daniel gives a confused look to Max, who is struggling to find a reason why.
He finally gives the Aussie and awnswer. "She thinks anyone will do whatever she wants cause she's so nice. It's aggravating to see people flit around at her beck and call like she owns the place."
Daniel's face falls, a frown now gracing his lips. "Damn, that's too bad, I think you would've liked her if you'd giver her the chance."
It's at this moment that Max felt a looming presence behind him. The grimace if Daniel's face apparent.
"Sorry for interrupting, Christian is looking for you, Max." Came your voice. Not the one he was used to, you sounded on the verge of crying.
You turned on your heels and swiftly left to find somewhere secluded to compose yourself.
You hadn't intended on eaves dropping. You caught the tail end of their conversation as you were walking up. There wasn't much other noise around, and it's not like either male knows the definition of quiet.
Max, on the other hand, knew he messed up. He placed his hands over his face, shaking his head repeatedly. "I am stupid. I am stupid." He mumbled.
After the race that he managed to win, despite a rough start, he found himself immediately looking for you. Then he looked for you from the podium. And again, when it was time to be harassed from the media.
When he couldn't find you anywhere, he decided to ask Christian. He was hoping to get the chance to explain himself. Maybe even opening up a little because you deserved it after what he said.
Christian looked at him skeptically when he asked. "I thought you'd been told. She went back to the hotel. Security found her hyperventilating, so I had Daniel drive her back."
The rest of the day went by in slow motion for Max. Daniel mentioned a couple of times that you had anxiety. He'd mentioned that you are a people pleaser. You just wanted everyone to smile.
He hadn't realized how much damage his statement had done at the time. The guilt is now settling into the pit of his stomach.
He had someone else following him around. Definitely not as nice as you. He knew he'd fallen for you but couldn't admit it to himself. He needed to make this right. He didn't care if you hated him forever, but he wasn't going to let you think he hated you any longer.
Finally he was able to escape the cameras and locate Daniel. "I need your help."
You had spent your time in the hotel watching the race under your blankets and calming yourself down. You wouldn't lie that you genuinely liked Max. He started as an aquintance, but then you picked up on any grain he would give you. Any story he would tell to fill the silence. You wanted him to enjoy your presence as much as you enjoyed his. You knew you couldn't force it, but it wasn't going to stop you from at least being nice. Had you pushed it too far anyway?
Daniel knew about your crush. He said he saw that way you would listen to his long wonded explanations with patience and understanding and new only someone who loved him could manage that.
However, Daniel had also given you a false sense of hope. The Australian said that he saw how Max wanted to make you laugh. How he followed every PR obligation so you could keep your job. He wanted you around, too.
The tears started rolling again at the thought.
It's evening now. You hadn't eaten since this morning, but your stomach had no intention of letting you nourish yourself. Your anxiety over needing to make everyone happy getting the best of you. You hadn't had a panic attack like that in awhile. Even going as far as to dry heave because of the intensity.
You were exhausted, to say the least.
You wanted to sleep, but Daniel had texted, saying he didn't care if you wanted it or not, he is on route to bring you comfort food.
You did your best to make yourself look presentable. Though when you looked in the mirror, you definitely didn't look happy.
The inevitable knock came. You didn't hesitate to swing open the door, ready to be greeted by a cheeky smile.
What you got was a Dutch with a sheepish smile holding your favorite food and some flowers.
"Before you say anything, please let me explain." He rushed out. He needed to, though, since you were trying to close the door on him. Instead, you pause, considering his offer, and let him inside without a word.
He steps in the door. Finally taking in your appearance and the state of your room. Both are in dissaray. You sit on the edge of the bed and patiently wait for him to gather his thoughts.
You'd always been patient with him. Another reason he loved you.
"I'm sorry for what I said."
You didn't want to believe him, but there was a genuine look behind his blue eyes. You don't say anything. Opting to just listen to him instead.
"I know I fucked up." Max continues. His voice shaking more than you'd ever heard. "And I know you may never forgive me for what I've done to you. But I am truly in love with you." He stares at the floor. Anxiety making him cast his eyes to the floor.
You are shocked, rendered completely speechless at the confession. "Why?" Wat the only thing you could get out.
Max sets down what he is holding and finds the spot next to you on the bed. "I know I treated you poorly. I thought that in pushing you away, I would protect myself. But I fell for you anyway."
He inhales sharply. Staring at your glassy eyes. How were you so calm? He felt exposed and vulnerable. "You don't have to talk to me ever again. But I couldn't let you go without telling you I love you."
"I love you too." You whisper. His head snaps up in surprise. Is he hearing things? "I have for a while."
Nope, he definitely heard right. He watches your lips twist upward into a small smile and let's out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
"I know it'll take time, but please stick around. Let me show you hard I've fallen."
"It dosen't excuse how you treated me, but I'll give you a chance."
(AN: You can end here if you're not in the mood for spicy things or want to leave it at cute and fluffy... or not. Your choice )
The proximity between you two is so close now. Your foreheads practically touching.
Giving into the intense pull towards you, Max gives in and places his lips on yours. You taste sweet, exactly how he'd imagined. He could already tell he was going to become addicted. "Can I start tonight?" He might be pushing boundaries, but he'd be damned if he didn't at least ask.
He didn't hesitate to kiss you again when you gently nodded your head, yes. Giving him permission to continue for now.
This kiss was much more heated. Both of you hungry to act on all the pent-up emotions you had for each other.
You had one or two partners before Max. You know how to please. So immediately you moved to straddle him. Your inate need to put others first taking over.
It shocked you when Max pulled you off. Suddenly not knowing what to do with yourself. "Tonight is about you." He whispered in your ear. Planting kisses on your jaw as he lays you on the bed. "I'm going to show you how I've fallen for you." Kiss to your nose. "How much I love you." Kiss you your forehead. "And how much I need you." Puncuated by a slow sensual Kiss to your lips.
His lips move against yours with passion and lust. You open your mouth to give him access to your mouth, and he instantly begins exploring.
His hands gently caress the insides of your thighs and run up along your sides. Pulling your shirt up little bits at a time.
Your hand find themselves underneath his shirt. Your fingers are trying to memorize the feeling of his skin.
Max pulls away for you, panting heavily. "Can I take off some of your clothes?" He asks. His voice laced with new found confidence.
You'd never been treated like this. Often take advantage of because you are a giver. You gave constent sure, but this is a whole new level. You nod your head yes again, though looking skeptical.
Max picking up on this stops everything he's doing. "Are you ok? Your face is telling me something different."
"Yes, sorry, this is just a little new to me." You explain.
The shock hits Max once again. "Are you a virgin?!" His mind reeling that he was possibly going to take your virginity and he wouldn't have known.
He's more confused when you start laughing. "No, no! It's just that nobody has treated me so well before!"
"Oh, well if that's the case." A smirk finds its way onto his face as he straps you your shirt, then his. Then he takes your pants, your bra, and finally pauses. Laying kisses to every party of your body.
"I wish I hadn't closed myself off for so long. You're so beautiful. I've wanted you to myself like this for so long."
You pratically moan at his words. "Are you going to finish undressing?"
"What do you not get about me taking care of you." He places a finger over your lips to shush you. You sigh and comply. Letting him take control of the rhythm.
Max is over the top of you. Inching his way down. Sucking and leaving little marks as he goes.
He makes a pit stop at your chest. Gently taking your nipple and rolling it between his fingers. His tongue then finds the other one. Swirling it around, then sucking. Listening to you whimper beneath him.
"Do you like that lovely?" The cockiness in his voice not going unnoticed.
He trades sides with his hand and mouth. Trying to give equal attention to both your tits. His free hand now placed firmly on your hip to keep you still.
When he felt he'd given ample attention in one area, he made his way down lower. He stopped at your still clothed lower half. "Can I take these off you now?"
"If you don't I might cry."
Max has them off seconds layer. Now discarded with the rest of your clothes.
His gaze burns into you. His breathing erratic just looking at you. "Your are the most gorgeous thing on the planet."
You swallow hard as he finds a comfortable position. His head now in-between you thighs.
His finger gently rubs where you need him, and he places love bites to the insides of your thighs. "Glad to know I'm doing good so far." He smiles. His fingers are now coated in your slick substance.
You whimper again. His name falls from your lips like a prayer.
He licks the finger that was previously touching you. Savoring every bit of the tast he can. "Exactly like how I dreamed."
It was your turn to chuckle now. "You dreamed of me?"
"Almost every night. I got off in the morning to the memory."
You want to dwell on his dirty confession, but Max's tongue doesn't let you.
It doesn't take him long to have you writhing. His tounge unrelenting.
His fingers find their way inside of you. The act alone almost sends you off the edge. Instincts take over as you find yourself closer to utter bliss. Your arms struggle to push max away. His arms hooked under your thighs to hold you close keep you from doing so.
Your back arches as you release. Max is slowly coming to a stop as your ride out your high.
Both of you are breathing heavily. Max's fingers are still caressing your hips as you both catch your breath.
Realization hits you. "Don't you need something too?" You ask, voice laced with anxiety over not pleasing him also.
Max only smirks, laying his head against your leg. "I fine, don't you worry. Tonight, we cuddle, and tomorrow I take you for round two."
And that's exactly what you did. Max helped clean you up and put on your pajamas. Then you two curled up in bed together. Him telling you everything he had been wanting to since he laid eyes on you.
You know this road worh Max certainly wouldn't be easy. But you're patient, and you'll wait for him. As long as he needs to let himself fully tear down his walls.
#x reader#f1 fic#formula one#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x y/n#fanficion#smut#grumpy x sunshine#max verstappen x you#daniel riccardo x reader#daniel ricciardo#formula 1#f1 fanfic#redbull racing#redbull#super max#orange army#open requests#please request#I have a thing for his tongue#have you watched him speak?#it does things to me#max#maxy#emotional constipation#jos verstappen#i blame him#racing#daniel is the best wingman
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Tokyo revengers |°- random head cannons that I had stored
๑ Hanma ironically and out of nowhere 'sang' twist by Korn next to kisaki to get his reaction which caused kisaki to immediately whip his head over at the doofus with genuine fear in his eyes, he took a step backwards from Hanna, hands up and everything. but after a few seconds of staring at the 'possessed' specimen he just annoyingly does a "what the fuck is wrong with you..."
๑ ran doesn't crack his bones/knuckles often but if someone's around him that absolutely despises the sound of cracking bones he'd do it continuously without a care and finds major enjoyment in watching the person's face scrunch up in discomfort, sometimes he snickers too
๑ while chifuyu was in his 'major delinquent era, thinking he's better than everyone else' he was walking down the school stairs all cool and trying to be intimidating but then slipped on one of the stairs and fell on his butt. only one person saw but the amount of embarrassment he got from that when they made eye contact made him want to disappear from earth -this caused him to always be slow and actually look out for the steps so that it doesn't happen again.
๑ seishu finds it hilarious to fake a laugh at someone's awful joke for a second or two but then immediately go dead silent and just stare at the person with no seen emotion at all
๑ seishu is amazing at cooking, he's like a chef. but where'd he learn all this from? he doesn't answer, it's basically a mystery. but in his room he hides written down recipes that he copied out from books and other places
๑ when Baji was younger he decided to try and cook his own food for himself but accidently set a kitchen towel on fire by mistakingly setting it on top of the wrong oven circle -out of panic he got rid of it by quickly throwing it out the window in a panic making it land on someone's car windshield
๑ kazutora is actually quite close with Baji's mom. at some point he slipped up when calling out for her and accidentally called her 'mom' and sure enough he got embarrassed real quick and by a lot. ryoko took pride into that title tho, knowing that she mistakenly got called mom by someone else other than her own son made her feel oddly happy - although she mentioned that kazu is fine in calling her 'mom' he never did it again cause he still finds it embarrassing
๑ kazutora secretly takes photos of his friends crushes and sniggers about it while showing it to his friend. it's basically his little thing whenever he's told that someone has a crush, he doesn't do it to a big extent but just one of two pictures and it's usually just from the back or the side. he's been told multiple of times to quit and delete them but secretly they all knows he's doing them a favour cause when kazu sends them the photos they don't delete 'em
๑ peh holds grudges against people just for the sake of it, if he met someone and they had accidentally done something like step on peh's shoe then the next time they see eachother he would death stare them until they walk past and out of eye view, sometimes he just randomly feels like making enemies even despite being on 'silent and mutural' terms with someone.
๑ when akkun first had the thought of becoming a hairdresser he attempted in cutting his own hair and it actually turned out pretty good, cause of this he ended up cutting makotos hair however akkun had purposely cut his hair badly out of revenge for leaving 'filthy magazines' in akkuns room where his mom had found- making him to be unintentionally framed by makoto
๑ kisaki has a shit tone of books about manipulation and how to read people, how to carefully plot plans and use everything and anything to his own advantage even if things don't work out
๑ the reason why shion get frequent stomach aces is cause he has a bit of sweet tooth, he doesn't get hungry often so he forgets to actually eat a propper meal sometimes but when he sees something sweet and colourful he can't help but take more than a peck at it.
๑ at some point mitsuya accidentally knocked over a massive jar of beads over at the sowing club and took 2 hours collecting each one
๑ when taiju first started mending to his restaurant he had a bit of a high temper and would crack easily to his new employees if they spilled something or cut up a carrot with incorrect sizes, but after getting used to owning a business he somehow became the 'best boss' and grew to be pretty chill even if someone does a mistake - unless if it's a continuous mistake, then he'll get pissed
๑ taiju had a massive fixation with sharks and cool, colourful looking fish when he was younger. going to aquariums on a daily basis and as a kid he had collected little figurines of sharks, orcas and killer whales that he displayed. up till now he still have one of the shark toys displayed on a shelf since it was his all time favourite.
๑ yazuha hates bugs (cannon) and at some point she saw a weird looking incest in the bathroom and was begging hakkai to kill it or simply get it away for her but even he was disgusted by it so they kept on going back and forth about what to do about it before they both decided to team up and tackle it together. yazuha put a cup over it but while doing so the cup got knocked over from her shaky hands causing the both of them to scream as the bug started to move about but hakkai quickly put the cup back over it. they had to take a small breather and relax a little from the nerves before following through any more.
๑ Hina has a small collection of cute keychains, some of them are small plushies and a few are her favourite characters and others are random, small objects. she has some hanging on many different bags, her keys and a few hanging on thumb tacks that are stuck in a cork board on display
๑ Hina is really confrontational about anything that bothers her for other people's sake, in class most people try not to say anything rude about other people knowing that she'll over hear and they'll get their ear bitten off by her. cause of this she's kinda like the school hero against the bullies.
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#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers headcanons#tokyo revengers fluff#kazutora hanemiya#baji Keisuke#hanma shuji#kisaki tetta#ran haitani#matsuno chifuyu#seishu inui#inupi seishu#peh yan#makoto suzuki#atsushi sendo#shion madarame#hakkai shiba#taiju shiba#yazuha shiba#hina tachibana#mitsuya takashi
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