#muttposting

learning your routes, fallowing you, noting your traces.

you leave behind a coat one day and it becomes their most prized possession. the way they inhale your sent from it, used the fabric to get some friction.

they originally were just ment to hold on to it until they could return it to you, a good excuse to finally talk to you, but now they could never let you touch something soiled with their bodily fluids. they don’t deserve to breathe the same air as you much less let you wear something they dirtied, despite how tempting the thought is.

the thought of you marked by them in the most disgusting way and not even knowing it.

taking photos of you on your commute home, blissfully unaware. photos just for them… for them to look at when alone… their pride at keeping your best photos as their lock screen, while trying to ignore the gnawing guilt they feel for recording you from compromising angles, and the way the guilt worsens at what they do with those videos.

they can’t help it though! you’re just such a work of art, if everyone could see you the way they did they would obviously get it! the need to capture every angelic moment! collections of those moments, you looking out the window on your way to the grocery store, the sun on your face as you ride to work, your rare smile on your day off just taking a ride.

they almost forget how insane it is to just send someone a candid photo of themselves, unfortunately they remember far too late. they know you’ve received a photo from an unknown number and it drives them crazy that they can’t tell how you feel when you check your phone. the anxiety gets to them that they get off at the next exit.

hiding in a bathroom in their shame, they didn’t mean to memorize your number! they just couldn’t help it! and they were so stupid to send that photo! it’s over! they’ll never see you again! only when they checked the notification on their phone, stomach turning, they’re flabbergasted by your response.

“nice shot”

they get more emboldened by this. it was like reaching the tipping point into an avalanche. they couldn’t stop getting closer and closer. sending more candid photos, progressing into sending messages, “you look nice today” “did you skip breakfast?” “there’s a free seat to your left if you want to rest your feet.”

they can’t stop themselves from getting bolder, they start to stand closer to you, they swear they catch your eye every now and then. then things get gross again…

they know they should be ashamed, but it was late at night, the bus was empty, and the back wasn’t as well lit, you were sitting on the second row to the back, and they didn’t think twice about sitting in the seat right behind you, not thinking about how odd it would be to sit so close to someone on a deserted bus… but the back seats were slightly higher than the seats in front… they could see your phone screen, how it was open on the photos they sent you…

god they were going to hell if their tented jeans had anything to say…

but… they didn’t stop their hand from trailing to the front of their jeans, starting to palm themselves through the fabric… the way youd shift in your seat spurred them on… arousal winding tighter… they might’ve been breathing a bit harder, they hoped that it was covered up by the bus engine…

then they caught your eye in the window… you where watching… fuck… you where watching… and you could see what they where doing… fuck-

they had never finished so fast or hard in their life…

they should feel ashamed, but you grabbed your bag and got off at your usual stop, acting as nothing happened…

they were seriously regretting their life actions with rapidly cooling damp boxers… when they get a single text from you…

“when are you planning on giving me my jacket back?”