#「 LITTLE LOST THINGS 」－ promo | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

star-sim · 4 months

Text

hello kitty meets batman (real not clickbait!) ☆ jake sim

☆ youtuber! super down bad! bf! jake x youtuber! fem! reader ☆summary: jake sim was youtube's cut-throat, horror creator, known for his dark video style. meanwhile, you were the cutesy beauty vlogger, lighting up every algorithmically generated home page you touched. no one would have expected you two vastly different people to know each other, let alone be in a long-term relationship. ☆ genre: fluff, youtuber! au, secret dating! au, established relationship, suggestive, im sorry im never letting the ytber au go, cutesy!reader, jake is SO down bad its kinda painful #patheticmen ☆warning(s): no, just fluffy, also reader is really feminine and girly in this ☆ word count: 13.4k words ☆ wrote half of this in spanish class so im sorry if there are mistakes, first time writing established relationship in full, kinda nervy

Jake Sim was many things.

One of the most popular and well-respected content creators on Youtube was one of them.

As Jake's nimble fingers darted across his keyboard, his other hand rested firmly on his mouth, he thought that the blue light emitting from his computer screen should burn his eyes. Except, it didn't. Despite what most people thought, 90% of being Youtuber was just simply staring at a computer screen, rather than being in front of a camera lens. The man felt his nose prickle before he let out a soundless, but satisfying, yawn. He leaned back against his office chair, stretching his neck and arms before he rubbed his eyes.

There was a reason that he was an extremely respected creator on Youtube.

For one, the production quality of his videos were high. Down to the Closed Captions or his camera's grain, Jake's attention to detail was immaculate. Not to mention, the content itself was magnificent.

Whenever people asked Jake what he did for work, it was hard for him to answer.

He'd said that he made horror content, but he'd only earned incredulous looks, like he was a madman. Even then, "horror" content wasn't the correct description.

In short, Jake liked to make videos about obscure things. Which just so happened to be a little spooky. Sketchy true crime cases, searches for lost media, strange Internet phenomena, government cover-ups— Name anything a little bit eerie and Jake probably already covered something of that sort on his channel. Given the nature of his content, Jake almost always maintained a serious tone, but when the opportunity came to offer his opinion, he liked to relay it in a straightforward way.

Another reason why he was so regarded was because of his content style. He preferred using darker colors, having a crisp microphone that picked up every rasp of his deeper voice. When he had camera shots, Jake liked to be in a dimly lit room. Unfortunately, his room was dark, too.

This all combined together to create a singular image for Jake: the cool, high-quality, but a little bit scary, guy that likes to make videos about scary topics.

Now cracking his knuckles, Jake sucked in a sharp breath. Although he could easily export his upcoming video now and upload it, garnering millions of views, he refused to. There was something missing from it; it needed a little umph, a little embellishment to really pull things together. If there was one thing about Jake, it was that he'd put quality over quantity any day.

Jake is torn out of his thoughts when his phone, long forgotten next to his mouse, lit up. Usually, when he worked long afternoons like this, he silenced his phones in order to maintain focus.

However, there was always one exception.

You.

pretty girl: hi babe, do you think you can help me take promo pictures later?

The moment that Jake saw your contact show up, he picked up his phone immediately. His fingers tapped his screen, quickly responding to you.

me: yeah i can do it rn if you want

pretty girl: if youre busy, it doesn't need to be today, it can be tomorrow or something

pretty girl: oh

pretty girl: are you sure?

Of course he was.

Jake was already shutting off his monitor, grabbing his keys and shoving his feet into his shoes at your first message.

me: yeah i'll come over right now

You were Jake Sim's girlfriend. But other than the people in your personal life, no one else knew that.

Not that either of you minded.

Like Jake, you were a Youtuber. Except, your community was the complete opposite from his.

Your niche was cute makeup and lifestyle. Your videos had cute, blushy sets, characterized by cute plushies in the background and pretty, pink decorations. When you weren't making makeup tutorials or "get ready with me's," you were giving your viewers small sneak-peeks into your life. Whether it be your rosy morning skincare, or your sunny afternoon cooking attempts, or your illuminated late night thoughts, your content was light-hearted, soft, and personable.

And if you weren't doing any of those things, you were modeling.

You were a beauty influencer, so you had sponsors from different makeup companies and such. What was most distinguishable from your personal brand was that you were one of Sanrio's biggest ambassadors. If there was someone that was the living embodiment of Hello Kitty, it was you.

Your personability, and your ability to feel authentic to your viewers, was a key factor in your large viewerbase. And what contributed to that the most was the fact that you had no idea how to use a camera. One would think that a content creator would know how to use a camera, but you were somehow the exception.

Not a problem!

Because you had your boyfriend, Jake!

Who was basically the master of content creation and film, in your opinion.

"Jakey!" you pounced on your boyfriend the moment he appeared at your apartment doorway. You threw your arms around his neck, immediately peppering his neck and cheeks with kisses. You heard him let out a few chuckles, feeling the rumble of his strong chest as he did.

"Geez, babe, let me take my shoes off first," Jake teased you, taking in your sweet strawberry perfume. You immediately peeled yourself off of him, your lips forming a cute frown.

"Shut up," you murmured, punching him on the arm while you jutted your bottom lip out. The lip tint and gloss on them shined, which made Jake grin. And when you noticed that he was staring at your lips, you gave him a gentle shove before saying again, “Shut up, Jakey.”

There it was, his favorite thing about you.

You were so, very, really, undeniably, mean to him.

Okay, that sounded weird.

But it was the truth.

Your relationship could be summed up in a few words—

You were just the cutest, and could barely contain your feelings for Jake, so you'd get all cuddly and affectionate with him. He'd tease you about it, so you'd get all shy and flustered, and you would begin to be mean to him. You'd call him stupid or annoying, and you'd tell him to go away but make no effort to resist his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you against his chest. And then he would get to tease you more, until you were so embarrassed that you relented and let him kiss you.

How could he not resist teasing you?

You were always so pretty, with makeup or not, and it was easy to tease you since you got embarrassed so easily.

Even if he was holding his most expensive camera in his hands, he'd still let you pounce on him, if it meant that he got one extra kiss from you.

You led him to your bedroom. It had the same sweet, strawberry scent as you. Your room was pink, and along the walls were shelves, all filled with the many, many plushies that Jake bought you. Plopping onto your bed, Jake watched as you dug around your filming desk.

"Sooo," he started, "You're gonna do a promotional post on Instagram?"

You hummed. Sanrio recently launched a new line of lip tints, and they sent you their newest ones to review and promote.

"I already made a review, and it's going to go up later," you said, digging through your drawers. "I want to make a promo post, too, y'know?"

You let out an 'a-ha!' as you found what you were looking for. It was a tube of lip-tint, the newest one from the collection. You then touched up your makeup a little more.

Jake watched you in awe. The way you applied lip gloss and brushed setting powder (or was it blush? he didn't know anything about makeup) onto your cheeks was so mesmerizing, as you weren't already so captivating to him.

Finally, you stood up, straightening out your outfit. You puckered your lips, and when you noticed Jake staring at you, you gave him a little twirl.

"How do I look?" you asked.

Jake, with his camera in hand, pointed the lens at you. He looked through the viewfinder.

"Beautiful."

As always.

The shoot went smoothly. As you always did when Jake was your photographer, the two of you drove to the film studio, renting out a room for a good hour. Jake was a pro with the camera and you were an even bigger pro at modeling. Other than a few compositional edits or changes in exposure, you and Jake were done as soon as you started. The two of you decided that you’d go back to your place, cook dinner together, and maybe watch a movie.

Except that got delayed.

“Y-You’re so annoying, Jake,” you struggled out. You were in the back seat of your car, legs thrown over your boyfriend’s hips, his soft lips connected to your neck. Your fingers gently tugged on his hair, you yourself pressing soft pecks against his forehead and temples. It started because you gave Jake a kiss on the cheek as a ‘thank you,’ which spiraled into a makeout session in your car.

“What,” he breathed against your skin, dark eyes flickering up to yours. “You said you’d do anything to express your thanks for me.”

Jake kissed your neck again, before trailing up your throat to your jaw. Your fingers raked through his soft hair, pushing his dark locks out of his face so that you could see his face clearly. Jake reached up, took your hand out of his hair, and instead held your palm against his cheek, nuzzling into your warm hand. The way your eyes widened into saucers, lips parting, in response made the man’s lips curve upward.

“W-Well I thought you’d ask me to hug you… or something,” you said sheepishly, your voice soft as your boyfriend’s actions flustered you.

Jake grinned to himself internally before pulling away from you altogether.

“Then do you want to stop?” Your eyes widened a fraction. “Then, let’s go hom—“

“No!” you cut him off, your hands squeezing his shoulders. “Let’s not!”

You stared at him, brows furrowed, for a few moments, before you noticed the growing grin on your boyfriend’s face. That look you knew too well, the one that said that he was going to tease the everlasting fuck out of you.

Jake pulled you in by the waist, close enough so that your chests touched, noses almost brushing against each other. He could feel the heat radiating off your face, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“You sure you don’t wanna stop?” His voice was teasing, but you knew better. The earnest look in his eyes, you stared into yours, was filled with sincerity. He gave your waist a squeeze, almost as if to ask, “Do you actually want this?”

“Yes, Jakey,” you breathed against his lips, matter-of-factly. “I don’t wanna stop.”

The corner of his lips begin to lift.

“So you better kiss me,” you quipped, gripping his shoulders.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he rasped back, before attacking your lips.

(Later, when you were done, you two went home and went about your plan for the night. Except, you had to yell at Jake to go wash his face, because the sight of your lipstick at the corner of his lips was too much for you to take.)

"Hi, everyone!" you greeted the camera, folding your hands in your lap. With your thick, pink, knit sweater's sleeves falling over your wrists, you shot the lens a pretty smile. It was another normal day on the job of making content.

"As you guys know, VidCon is coming up soon." You pulled your makeup pouch toward your chest, leaning against the edge of your filming desk. "So, let's pack with me!"

Vidcon was an event for people to meet all of their favorite Youtubers. This year, you were invited to be one of the featured creators, given your popularity. As you filmed your "Pack with Me!" vlog, surrounded by ring lights aided by your windows cracked open, you recalled the email you had sent earlier, squeezing your eyes shut.

You see, Jake and you were both invited to VidCon. Since no one else, not even Youtube the corporation or your fellow Youtubers, knew that you guys were dating, Jake and you were given vastly different things. Youtube booked an entire hotel complex for all of its creators, and unfortunately, your room was located 10 floors below Jake's room. And worse, your booths and events were so far apart from each other that you probably wouldn't even see your boyfriend even if he decided to traverse the Convention.

That's what you got for being vastly different content creators.

This year would be the first year that you and Jake got invited to VidCon, and you two wanted to share this experience with each other as much as possible.

Which is why you just shot Youtube one of the most embarrassing emails of your life.

"Hi, Youtube. The hotel complex you booked has a bar, and it is much closer to the top than the bottom. I really want to visit that bar. Can I request a room change so that my room is maybe on the 15th or 16th floors?" except add more formalities and much more discreet language, and that was the email you sent to your employers. You knew that it wouldn't be hard, and that the Youtube PR manager wouldn't reject your request. After all, you were the Sanrio beauty girl. Regardless, you'd gotten a response about an hour ago, and your request was approved, luckily.

As you continued talking to your camera, folding your clothes neatly while chatting to your viewers about updates in your life, you thought about what you and Jake should do at VidCon. It was in the LA area, but you definitely wanted to visit other places in Southern California.

It was no surprise that you and Jake had been more than touchy and close to each other. You were dating. Still, butterflies formed in your stomach as you thought about what you would do with him. Your face heated up at the thought of you and him spending time together in the hotel's rooftop hot-tub. The idea of him sneaking in your room at night, warming you up and pepperinging your cheeks with kisses, made your heart rate speed up, and you could only relish in the thought of exploring LA, Irvine, or wherever Jake wanted to take you with him.

You were a grown woman with a job and responsibilities, but the mere thought of your boyfriend being within the same vicinity as you made you nervous.

Just as you finished folding your clothes, you heard your front door crack open.

"Babe?" you hear Jake's voice call out your name. You turn off your camera to greet him, swearing to forget all of the thoughts you just had. Except, the moment that you locked eyes with him, all determination to not be teased left your body. Your lips wobbled, trying to bite back that stupid, bashful, and lovesick smile that made its way onto your face when you thought about Jake, but your eyes gave it all away. Instead of throwing yourself at him like you usually did, you only reached for the hem of his black T-shirt, playing with it sheepishly.

You mumbled a small, "Hi."

You could feel Jake staring at you, and you could hear the way his lips curve into a smug, shit-eating grin.

"Shut up," you told him, your eyebrows crashing together.

"Baby, I didn't even say anything," Jake said, his hands finding their place on your lower back.

You felt shy and exposed before him. "Well, I know you're going to say something."

Jake grasped your chin, gently making you look at him. You tried to avoid his eyes, but it was impossible to avoid those dreamy, caramel eyes. Then, he took your face with both his hands, leaning in.

Was he going to kiss you? Oh my god, he was! Quick! What do you do? You felt like you were going to melt.

Instinctively, your hands tightened on the hem of his shirt, the black fabric scrunching in your fists. You closed your eyes, your lips softly puckering. You could feel him coming closer and closer, until his breath fanned your cheek.

As if he hadn't kissed you a million times before, your heart felt like it was going to fall out of your chest.

Jake ghosted his lips over yours, inching just close enough that he could brush his lip against yours.

And then, he pulled away from you. He took off his shoes, placed down his keys, and made his way into your bedroom, leaving you there standing alone.

Heat spread across your face and neck and ears as you realized your boyfriend had just teased you once again. You hid your face in your palms, letting out a small whine of embarrassment, before recollecting yourself and joining your boyfriend.

"Woah, what's going on here, babe?" Jake asked, standing at your bedroom doorway.

"Oh." There was clothes and film equipment sprawled across your floor and bed. "I was filming a video."

You saw Jake's expression twitch, before he took your hands in his.

"My bad, was I interrupting something?" He was sincere in how his face showed a small drop of guilt for disrupting your filming. How could someone be such a tease one moment yet be so genuine the next?

"No, it's okay, Jakey," you said. "I mean, I need to finish my video, but I don't mind if you're around."

And that's how you found yourself trying not to burst out laughing as you filmed your video. Jake kept making funny faces at you, that goofy grin growing on his face as he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

"Jake, stop making faces!" you laughed, throwing a shirt at him.

He dodged it, throwing his head back into one of the plushies that he bought you. "I'm not doing anything!"

You threw another shirt at him, this time hitting him square in the face. Instead of admitting defeat, Jake only grabbed your shirt, pulling the fabric to his nose and taking a long, dramatic, sniff.

"You smell sooooo good, babe," he said, ignoring your contorted expression, "I think I'm gonna keep this. You won't mind, right?"

"Ugh, Jaaaaakee!"

You plopped on top of him in bed. You felt his chest rumble as chuckles left his lips, rolling your eyes at him. You gave his chest a smack, a pout forming on your lips.

"You're so annoying," you mumbled as his hands slithered up to your hips. He gave your ass a pat, gesturing you to adjust your position. You did, sitting up so that you straddled your boyfriend's hips.

"And you're so pretty," he said, squeezing your hipbone.

"Let go of me," you poked him in the chest, but made no attempt to get off of him.

"No."

"I need to finish my video," you pouted, still not moving to get off of him.

"I don't care." Jake instead sat up on his elbows, his hands sliding down to your lower back, his face getting suspiciously close to your boobs. "Just lay with me."

Your fingers ran through his dark locks, before giving them a tug towards your chest. Jake laid his cheek against your boobs like they were pillows, arms wrapped around your waist. You could feel his hot breath against your skin and neck. The next thing you knew, he was pressing sticky kisses against your chest and neck, soft gasps escaping your lips.

"Sorry, babe," he muttered against the shell of your ear, "I just can't resist you."

You let out a soft "ahhh!" when he bit down on your skin, his teeth brushing against the nape of your neck. Jake briefly pulled away, a smirk making its way onto his face as he admired the red-purple mark on your neck.

"You're just too addicting."

Long story short, your video was still finished and uploaded. As Jake edited his video, he let yours play in the background, your bright voice illuminating his dark room. Somehow, your voice was the only thing that made him focus.

However, when he heard a familiar laugh— his laugh— in your video, Jake stopped in his tracks.

His mind flashed back to what happened the other day in your apartment, when he interrupted you during your filming.

"I don't know if I turned off my camera, Jake," you had purred as Jake's tongue dipped into your collarbone. At that point, both you and him were shirtless, hair disheveled and pupils blown out with desire. Jake remembered the electricity that ran through him as those words left your lips.

"Am I supposed to care?" he had muttered, trailing kisses down your chest. "If they hear us, that's not my problem."

It was almost like you, who edited your video, added that clip to tease him.

Immediately, his cheeks began turning the brightest shade of red possible. If you were here, he would have only coughed and looked away shyly, but since he was alone, his embarrassment spread across his face like a wildfire. Jake almost never showed it when he was flustered, at least when he was around you.

He hid his face in his palms, sucking in a sharp breath. He squeezed his eyes shut, warmth prickling his skin. You were going to be the death of him. He let out a small, lovesick giggle, one that his friends would flame him for. He couldn't help it, not if it was you.

When he read the comments, still flustered out of his mind, he felt a twinge of disappointment when no one seemed to notice him.

For some reason, Jake couldn’t help but want people to know that you were his. He knew that you and him kept your relationship private to preserve it, but he still wanted to show you off.

Except, one comment caught his eye.

“Wait, does [Name] have a boyfriend? Who laughed at 6:34?” it read. Jake’s heart skipped a beat in his chest. The warmth that spread across his chest as his lips pulled upwards. He almost wanted to jump on his bed and roll around while giggling like a schoolgirl, but he contained himself.

At the corner of his eye, Jake spotted a certain plushie.

As you were a partner of Sanrio, for a time there was a Limited Edition [Name] plushie, clad in pink with a cute, ruffle-lace bow to top it all off. Of course he bought one the moment it launched. Jake preferred his room to be completely dark and black, but he liked to keep that plushie on his bed, and although he’d never admit it, he hugged it when he slept if you weren’t with him.

Would it be wrong of him to tease you back? After all, Jake still had to film the brand deal for his new video.

Would it hurt to position the plushie just enough so that it was in frame?

So that maybe someone would see it.

Vidcon came crashing on you and Jake like a meteor, and before the two of you knew it, you were in the venue, wringing your fingers as the event commenced.

Sometimes, it was difficult for you to comprehend the level of your popularity. Sure, the numbers that Youtube loved to display for you told you that you had millions watching you, but mere numerical figures were simply not enough for you to wrap your mind around.

Your schedule that day was simple: you were going to have a booth that you'd tend to for an hour or two, where your fans could take pictures with you and take a few freebies with them. Then, you'd go to your main event, which was in a smaller venue.

At your booth, where you sat currently, your personal table was set up in a very special way: your table was pink, and covered in a lacy, white tablecloth. Even the wall behind you was specifically painted pink and decorated with various Sanrio-esque decorations. You had stickers that you'd give out, as well as a Limited Edition Vidcon Sanrio plushie of you that people could buy. The pink polaroid decorated with Hello Kitty stickers hung around your neck with a pink lanyard. You genuinely looked like Sanrio and Hello Kitty vomited all over you, but you didn't mind. And plus, that didn't matter, because you were cute either way.

You were hit with pure surprise as multiple groups of fans came your way. The amount of people that came to you, rambling nervously about how much they loved you, how much they looked up to you, how much you inspired them and made their days better, made you feel light-headed. And very warm inside.

Jake was the one that did the talking for you (thank goodness!), but for some reason, you pushed through your usual shyness, instead wanting for people to come up to you and talk.

Your face lit up as one of your fans, a girl that looked around your age, maybe only a few years younger than you, approached you. You could tell by the Sanrio sticker of you on her phone case that she was most definitely here for you.

"Oh my gosh, hi [Name]!" She gazed at you with wide, glimmering eyes.

Your initial reaction was surprise, but then you broke out into a smile. You cocked your head, fingers gripping the hem of your dress, both nervous and excited. "Hi, there."

You fan took one look at your face, and squealed. The way that she giggled, bouncing on her feet as she fangirled over you made warmth spread across your cheeks, getting shy and looking down briefly.

"I'm sorry, [Name]!" Your fan couldn't stop giggling, which you thought was very cute. It was now that you noticed the camera in your hand. "I just really love your content, and I'm just so excited to meet you in real life!"

You blinked at her a few times, before you smile only widened.

"Don't worry about it!" you said, taking her free hand in yours. Your shyness melted away as your fan squealed again. "It really means a lot to me that you came out here to personally see me."

Your eyes flickered over to her camera, squeezing her hand and motioning to it with your other. "Can I...?"

She nodded enthusiastically, so you took her camera. Turn on the 'photo' setting, you posed for the camera, taking multiple pictures of yourself for her. You hoped that that would make up for your shyness. The two of you hugged, and you took many polaroids for her.

Almost immediately, after she left, you were tagged in a Twitter thread. It was that fan, reporting her experience with you.

"She was so much prettier in real life, I thought I was in heaven," her tweets detailed, "And [Name] was so sweet! It felt like I was meeting the real life Hello Kitty."

She posted the pictures you took on her camera, and then the videos. You couldn't help but grin like an idiot, especially at the comments (and the rapidly-accumulating likes and retweets).

"The way [Name] gets so shy is so cute!"

"I don't really watch beauty content but I love [Name] so much."

"She's like an actual Disney Princess."

You loved your fans, you really did. You were grateful for them, and you thought they were very cute.

You were excited to see how Vidcon would treat you.

Jake was fighting.

He was fighting demons, wars, the little voices in his head.

Did you have to look so pretty today?

Jake's own event was an entire venue away from yours. He had a few events, so after his first one, he took a small break, where he looked through his notifications.

Of course, the first thing he looked at was your texts. They were from a while ago, during his show when he didn't have his phone on him, so he responded to them now. He smiled at your cute texts, expressing how excited and happy you were. His heart jumped out of his chest when he saw the selfie you sent him: there you were, in all your cutesy Sanrio glory, smiling so prettily for him. Jake had to clasp his face to hide the stupid, love-struck grin that bled onto his face.

"Oi, what're you giggling about?" Jake was interrupted by Jay, another one of his fellow horror Youtubers.

Jake immediately wiped his expression clean. "Nothing."

When he glanced back at his phone, that dumb grin began to form again.

Jay groaned. "This is so weird. It's like watching Batman smile."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jake scoffed.

"I'm sayin' that you're basically Youtube's Batman," Jay scrunched his nose, "And it's weird seein' you all... smiley and stuff."

"I literally smiled earlier!"

"Not in the way that you did just now. I have a bad feeling about it."

"Shut up!"

Jake really tried his best to swallow back his pure admiration for you as he opened his phone screen again, but he failed miserably.

He wished he could see you right now. He loved to see his fans, he loved to talk to them about their shared interest: all things horror and obscure.

But Jake missed you right now.

His heart plummeted to his stomach, however, when he logged onto Twitter, and saw the worst hashtag he could ever think of: #[Name]isSoCute.

He agreed with it. No, he embraced that sentiment with every molecule in his being.

Just... he wished that he could see you right now. When he checked the tag and saw all the cute pictures that people took of you and the sweet experiences they had with you, he frowned— That should be him!

However, Jake actually saw the worst thing to ever materialize when he saw the top video under the tag.

It was a shaky video, starting off with a teenage boy walking up to you. In the background, he could hear your pretty voice in the background, exchanging small greetings and words with the poster. Jake was almost lost in his sheer love for you when his eyes narrowed. The boy in the video let out a little chuckle, before dropping a cheesy pick-up line on you.

"[Name], if you were a vegetable, you'd be a cute-cumber." What made it worse was that you only giggled, leading the boy to drop a few other dumb pick-up lines. The camera panned up to you, showing you all smiley and bashful. Then, you and the boy hugged, before taking a few polaroids together.

Jake almost snapped his phone in half.

He understood better than anyone that you were a content creator just like him. It was part of the job to interact with fans, and given your character, of course you were sweet to them. He could tell that you were perfectly comfortable in the video, and that the kid probably was just joking around with his favorite Youtuber.

But did that stop Jake from mentally lambasting every single aspect of the video? Absolutely not.

Shaky camera, probably filmed on a phone, Jake's hands balled into fists, Fucked up aperture, exposure to low, bad mic.

Was he being a little immature? Yes, and Jake knew that.

Though, Jake would admit that he agreed with a lot of comments and retweets under that post, hearting many of them in agreement.

"[Name] is such a cutie!" one read.

Absolutely.

"I love her so much," another read.

Me too, Jake thought.

"I want her so bad."

Just as Jake's finger hovered over the 'heart' button, he let out a small hmph. Did it annoy him that other people wanted you? Yes. But did he disagree with the comment? Nope. He pressed the "like" button.

He wanted to see you so bad. As Jake was queued up on stage, ready for his second event, he hoped that he could see you soon.

And his wish came true a few hours later.

It was now past noon, and Vidcon was in its (unofficial) intermission period, where a lot of the creators were now taking breaks. As Jake traversed the convention, he texted you trying to find a spot where the two of you could meet.

He passed the many booths and venues of his fellow Youtubers. The layout was unique in the way that Youtubers of similar genres were placed in similar areas. So when he started seeing Youtubers with bright makeup and problematic pasts, Jake knew that he was near you.

And lo and behold, soon he found you. Under the fluorescent light, you still glowed. There was some kind of halo around you as you turned over your shoulder, your face instantly brightening up as you spotted your boyfriend. You had a few fans that you were talking to at the moment, so you tended to them first, while Jake made his way over to you.

You and Jake agreed that you wouldn't make your relationship too obvious at Vidcon, but all of that was left forgotten the moment that Jake saw you.

However, as you ran up to him, people couldn't help but stop and stare.

Why wouldn't they? You were the living embodiment of Sanrio, that one Hello Kitty girl, whereas Jake was that one guy that made scary content and was often shrouded in darkness, dubbed as Youtube's personal Batman. Absolutely no one would have expected to see the two of you interacting with one another, let alone be within the same vicinity.

"Hi, Jakey," you smiled up at him, and Jake thought that he could die right there. With the amount of people staring, Jake had to restrain himself from throwing his arms around you and hugging you.

"Hey, baby," he grinned.

Before either of you could do anything, you and Jake were interrupted by a shrill squeal. You whipped your heads around to see a young girl and her older brother, who still looked relatively young. They explained nervously that the girl liked your content, while the brother liked Jake's content. They were expecting to scour in order for each of them to meet either of you, but were surprised to see you and Jake in one place.

You and Jake took a few pictures with them, both individually. Though, the two of them requested a picture with both you and Jake in the same frame, which you happily did.

When they left, you and Jake shared a look, before going off together.

Vidcon Day 1: Over.

Jake returned to his hotel room, too tired to do anything other than wash up and order room service.

As Jake laid in his half-hard hotel mattress, he scrolled through his phone. He was tagged in a lot of pictures and tweets, and he found himself grinning at a lot of the sweet words his fans left. Although he was tired, he could definitely do this a few more times, feeling invigorated by his fans.

As he scrolled, the trending Twitter hashtag caught his eye.

#HelloKittyMeetsBatman.

Interesting name, he thought as he clicked on it.

Jake's heart skipped a beat as he saw what came up.

Apparently, people were extremely surprised to see you and Jake so close to each other.

There were so many pictures of you and him taken together from afar just from that one instance earlier, from multiple different angles and distances. Jake would admit, the way he was dressed in all black while you were dressed in cute pinks and whites was almost laughable.

What truly caught his attention were the captions of all these pictures.

"Craziest crossover of 2024."

"I'm crying they legitimately look like Hello Kitty and Batman."

"Jake Sim and [Name] interacting was not on my Vidcon 2024 bingo card."

"This is like seeing two worlds collide, absolutely wild but I'm pleasantly surprised."

For the most part, it seemed like everyone just thought that you and Jake were friends, but it was still a little funny how taken aback the entire internet was.

Then, he saw the picture of you, him, and those two kids together.

"They look like a family," was one of the most popular retweets under that post.

Family.

That word rang through Jake's head, before he buried his face in one of the pillows, giggling to himself. He felt a little ridiculous getting so excited over such a small comment, but he couldn't help it. He felt so giddy inside at the thought of having a family with you, and felt even giddier knowing that people could see it, too.

Suddenly, his phone rang. Jake wasn't going to answer it, too caught up in his flustered-ness, but when he realized that it was you, he quickly cleared his throat, instinctively straightening out his hair (because what if he accidentally turns on his camera?-- he needed to look good for you!).

"Baby," he greeted suavely, as if he wasn't just giggling like a schoolgirl seconds ago.

Maybe it was the fact that it was already getting late, or the fact that Jake barely saw you today, or the fact that you were just so goddamn perfect, but your voice sounded so attractive in that moment.

"Jakeyyy," you whined. "Come over."

His chest was already throbbing but Jake played it cool.

He chuckled. "What for?"

"I miss you," he could hear the pout in your voice. "And I want your attention."

It was rare for you to be so direct with him, and while Jake wanted to melt on the spot, he wanted to tease you a bit longer.

"What's wrong with just being on the phone with me?" Jake's lips pulled into a smirk. "You can just talk to me like this."

"Noooo," you said. "I want— I want you."

Jake tried his best to not crumble then and there, but it was too hard.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. "Okay then, baby. I'll come over right now."

He didn't miss the cute little "yay!" you let out before you hung up.

You were going to be the death of him.

"Eep! Jake, what are you doing here—?!”

You’re cut off when you realized that you were, in fact, backstage of one of your events. Today was the second day of Vidcon, and you had just finished up your first event. As you went backstage, carrying the little bags of gifts that your fans got you, you didn’t expect your own boyfriend to be waiting back there for you.

“Hey there, Princess,” he said cheekily, sprawled across the backstage couch. "Miss me?"

He opened his arms up, and you instinctively crawled into them, sitting on his lap and sliding your arms around his neck.

As you did, you eyed him up and down.

Clad in black as always, he wore a black button-up, paired with black slacks, a black belt, and a loose, black tie. That's right: today, Jake was going to have a panel with a whole bunch of other horror creators, ones that transcended the internet— authors, authors that Jake spent his whole life reading and looking up to, which explained why he was dressed significantly more proper today than yesterday.

The way his shirt fit his chest and hugged his shoulders made it hard for you to not stare, and the way that it wasn't buttoned at the top, revealing his honey-tan collarbones, mixed with the scent of his rich cologne, made you feel dizzy.

"Ay, are you checkin' me out?"

On any other day, you'd be embarrassed, maybe even pushing him away, but today, you only nodded your head, humming mindlessly in agreement.

Jake blinked at you, before he pulled you in by the waist so that you were flushed against his chest completely.

"Kiss me," you mumbled, pushing his dark bangs away from his face.

Jake chuckled, rubbing your cheek with his knuckles. "What's with you these days? Getting so bold."

You only leaned into his touch. Maybe it was sometime in the LA air, or maybe it was the vigor that your fans gave you earlier, but all you could do was look at your boyfriend with glossy, wide eyes innocently, watching the way that his resolve trembled.

"Shit," Jake cursed under his breath. "Hold on—"

He grabbed your hips, then tilted your chin so that he could have a better angle. Your lips crashed into one another. Not in the way that a meteor would crash into Earth's delicate atmosphere, but in the way that gentle sea waves crashed onto themselves, dark folds of blue creasing over each other, only to brush up against the foamy seashore, none the wiser.

Jake liked the taste of your lip gloss; it tasted sweet, but not nearly as sweet as you, hungrily squeezing your hips in his hands. He swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, earning a squeal from you, who tugged on his hair.

When you pulled away from each other, you were breathless, chests heaving not for air, but for each other. You stared at each other for a few moments, losing time in each other's eyes, when your eyes trailed down.

God, the button-up and tie were going to drive you crazy.

Without thought, your fingers twirled around his tie, slinking up his chest before you yanked him harshly, jerking Jake toward you abruptly.

In a moment of pure, unadulterated boldness, you attacked his neck, laying sticky kisses all across his skin. One hand laced itself in Jake's hair, keeping a firm hold of his tilted head, while your other hand crept around the buttons of his shirt.

Each soft sigh that Jake let out made you only press more kisses on him. When he let out one particularly loud whine, his arm jerking up to grab at the couch's armrest, you knew that you found the sensitive spot on his neck. You pressed another kiss on that spot, this time sinking your teeth into his skin. The hickey was dark and purple, and when you ran your tongue over it, Jake's hands shot to your hips again.

"Shit, [Name], wait a sec—"

Skillfully, your fingers began to slowly unbutton Jake's shirt, just enough that you could see more of his chest.

Your head was feeling fuzzy now, drunk off your desire for him. The way he threw his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing with each gulp of air he took in, curses falling from his lips, sent electricity coursing through your body.

When you unbuttoned the last button, you noticed the way Jake's eyes were squeezed shut, his other arm resting over them, hands balled into fists as his desperation for you increased.

"Jakey," you said. Jake was going to go mad, the way your voice was so soft and innocent as it said his name, all the while you were kissing and touching him in ways that made him go light-headed. He squeezed his eyes shut, another whimper escaping his lips. If he looked you in the eye right now, he was sure that he'd burst. "I want you to look at me."

He couldn't refuse you. Immediately, he opened his eyes, the arm strewn over his face dropping back to its position on your hips.

If he didn't die by combustion, Jake was certain that he'd die now— Your pupils were blown out, eyes lidded and staring at him like he was your prey to be slaughtered. He'd seen you wrought with desire so many times before, but the way you gazed at him like he was a piece of meat, like you were going to absolutely ruin him, made him feel weak.

"Watch me, Jakey," your voice sounded so sweet, but your actions said otherwise. You abruptly got up from your seat on his lap, Jake frowning at the loss of your touch. You dug through your purse thrown across the room, returning with a tube of lipstick.

You plopped back onto Jake's lap, making sure that he was watching as you applied it to your pretty, swollen lips.

Then, you discarded it, throwing your lipstick to the side as you snatched his tie again. You brought the black fabric to your lips, staring your boyfriend down as you pressed kisses on his tie. You kissed it a few times, making sure that the color of your lipstick, as well as the shape of your lips, was well-imprinted on it.

Then, you yanked his shirt's collar toward you, pressing a harsh kiss on the fabric, making sure that the shape of your lips was once again imprinted on the fabric.

You looked back up at his face, unable to hide your smugness as his entire expression was painted with red.

"You're so hot—" Jake attempted to force out of his throat, but you only cut him off with a rough kiss to his lips. Without a word, you covered his face, from his forehead to his jaw, with kisses.

You pulled back to admire your work, before you pulled away from him.

"I have to be on stage in a few minutes," you said quietly, your back turned to him as you straightened out your skirt. Dumbfounded, Jake could only stare at you, but when you turned over your shoulder, flashing him a bright, but terribly cheeky, grin, Jake's heart fell out of chest. "I can't be late, right?"

With that, you left your boyfriend, all hot and bothered, on the couch, running off to prepare for your next event.

Almost immediately, Jake melted. He threw an arm over his eyes as he leaned back, letting out a groan.

Was this how you felt when he teased you?

Was he now sexually frustrated? Absolutely. But now he wanted you even more.

After mulling over it for a few minutes, Jake began to go back to his venue. But, as he passed the backstage vanity, he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

Some of it was obvious to him already: disheveled hair, messed up shirt. But what made Jake want to evaporate was the sight of his entire face and neck covered in lipstick marks. The corner of his lip had a big lipstick smudge, the hickey that you gave him earlier was so dark now, and he couldn't even dare to forget your lip imprints on his shirt and tie.

You little tease.

Jake's last straw was.... right now.

After the backstage fiasco, he didn't get to see you all day. That night, you had a PR event to attend with your fellow beauty creators, so he didn't get to see you at night either.

Which was why Jake was practically glowing with a dark and negative storm cloud as he pranced around the third day of Vidcon. It didn't help that he saw so many pictures of you and fans all across platforms. Poor guy almost lost it when one of your fans' vlogs blew up, the most replayed part being when you let out the most angelic and sweet laughs he'd ever heard in his life.

That should be him!

Meanwhile, Jake sat in the convention room at a panel. Lined up along the table were other horror creators, from authors to Youtubers to filmmakers, similar to yesterday. The way that this specific event operated was simple: fans got to ask anyone on the panel questions and they'd answer, which the entire room got to hear, and later there would be one-on-ones along the panel.

Jake was pulled out of his thoughts when one of the fans said that they had a question for him.

"Jake, your videos take a long time to make, how do you balance work and your personal life?"

Good question. He had a simple principle when it came to how to balance everything. Jake thought about it for a moment, before reaching for his microphone.

"I don't have any outright method," he began. Jake's mind flashed with your image: all the cute messages you'd send him throughout the day, all the times where after hours of rotting in front of his computer screen he could always count on your loving embrace to give him life, all times that he'd tune into your Spotify playlist so that he could be listening to what you were listening. It was easy to balance work and life, if it was you. "But I always put my life before the screen."

The room was quiet, intently listening to what Jake had to say. After all, he was renowned all across the Internet.

"To be clear, I understand the privilege of getting to work in a profession like mine," Jake continued. "I don't expect everyone to be able to follow my advice exactly, but the more I live, the more I realize that what happens before my very eyes will endlessly matter so much more than what happens in my own little Youtube bubble."

Jake's mouth jumped to you faster than his mind could stop him.

"My beautiful girlfriend is everything to me," he unconsciously began to grin stupidly to himself, "I'd put her above work any day if I had to."

The moment that those words left his lips, the room erupted with gasps and whispers.

"Wait, you have a girlfriend?!" one of Jake's Youtuber friends asked, leading the room to laugh.

Oh.

Shit.

Jake's eyes visibly widened. He clutched his microphone, bringing it up to his mouth, but no words came out.

There was no way in hell that he'd outright deny you, not even in a million years.

"I.... Well..." Jake stammered, trying his best to generate any words at all. He sucked in a sharp breath, a bashful expression making its way onto his face. "That's..."

The room filled with more laughter, alongside the teasing grins and pats on the back that Jake got from his colleagues.

"Oh, so that's what you were giggling about yesterday, lover boy..." Jay, also on the panel, quipped, his brows raised so high on his forehead that it could have touched his hairline.

"Sh-Shut up, Jay!"

Jake's chest felt fizzy. In a weird way.

A part of him felt on-edge. You and him always wanted to keep your relationship secret, for the sake of preserving it. He'd seen what the Internet did to relationships: it tore them apart. It wasn't like he name-dropped you, but he felt so... exposed, so vulnerable.

But at the same time, Jake felt his chest also swell with pride. That's right. He had a girlfriend (a hot girlfriend at that), a girlfriend that he was nefariously down bad for. He hoped everyone knew that, that he was taken and that if there was anyone that he'd spend the rest of his life with, it would be you.

Jake huffed. "Yeah, I have a girlfriend. What about it?"

No one questioned him further. Probably out of fear.

You were in the middle of trying your best to get through a conversation with some beauty guru that you knew one thing about: their personal makeup line launch failed horribly and they gave everyone hairy lipsticks. It was difficult, to say the least.

Exchanging your final regards, you quickly rushed back to your booth.

The first thing you saw when you checked your phone was a viral video, in which Jake admitted that he had a girlfriend. Your heart plummeted to your stomach when you initially read the caption, but when you watched the video, you had a difficult time processing your feelings.

Did you hate that Jake admitted that he had a girlfriend? … No, you didn’t. You didn’t at all. At a certain point, seeing the way that your boyfriend smiled so earnestly made your heart jump out of your chest. The way he was so giddy and smiley (of course, only you could tell that that was how he was feeling— to everyone else it probably looked like he was brooding) made your neck and cheeks warm up.

But, the way that the room erupted with voices and laughter, combined with the quirked brows of everyone on the panel, made you quiver.

You weren’t prepared for it, for how vulnerable you felt as a chorus of “ooh’s” filled the room.

Frankly, there were too many things that you had to focus on at the moment. You'd rather enjoy Vidcon now, and address it later, when things settle down.

Pushing it to the back of your mind, you tucked your phone away, greeting another wave of fans. Though, not without taking an extra second to "heart" the post, adding it to your favorites folder, and rewatching the video one more time, feeling warmth and giddiness filling your chest.

As the cool night air kissed your cheeks, you fought the shy smile that seeped onto your face. It was late now, late enough that you could see all the city lights gleaming, lighting up the dark sky with blotches of all different colors.

There was a Vidcon party for creators, to celebrate the end of the event. Everyone was going. Although it was meant for any creator, there was a very exclusive VIP section; only those of high prestige could get in. Both you and Jake were invited, but upon realizing that nearly the entire hotel complex would be empty due to the popularity of the party, the two of you ditched it.

You'd been wanting to go to the rooftop hottub for a while now, but you never went because you wanted to go with Jake, and it was always too crowded for the two of you to go there comfortably. But now that everyone was gone, it was the perfect time.

Your boyfriend was already waiting for you up there, towel thrown over his shoulder with a shirt and swim trunks. His face lit up the moment he saw yours emerging from the elevator doors, rushing over to you to take your hands.

He paused for a moment. His dark eyes peered at yours, licking his lips before sucking in a sharp breath. Jake gave your forehead a peck, before saying a small "C'mon" and pulling you over to the hottub.

Jake took your towel for you, folding it next to his and perching it on a sunchair.

"They're gonna get off fireworks soon— Oh, damn," he cut himself off as you pulled your shirt over your head, revealing a bikini top. Your face scrunched up, squirming under his gaze. It's not like Jake has never seen you like this (in fact, he'd seen you in much more compromising positions), and it wasn't like he never complimented you, but as the hottub bubbled, the rosy scent of the water filling the air, you felt shy.

Jake slinked toward you, taking his own shirt off.

"Hey there, Gorgeous," he said, his fingers playing with the hem of your shorts that had yet to be taken off. Your heart pounded in your chest, fighting the urge to squeeze your eyes shut and groan in embarrassment. You kept your eyes glued to the ground. Jake chuckled softly, before clutching your chin gently, making you look up at him.

"Don't get shy on me now, babe," Jake grinned when your lips pressed into an unconscious pout. He squished your cheek, relishing in the look of confusion painted across your face. Then, his hands fell to your hips, pulling them toward his. "You look so beautiful."

Jake's fingers hooked onto the hem of your shorts, meeting your eyes for permission before pulling them down himself, revealing your bikini bottoms.

Jake's eyes glazed over your figure, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth.

"Jaaakee," you whined, squeezing his hands.

"Sorry," Jake's eyes flickered up to your face. "I can't help it. You're just so hot, baby."

You rolled your eyes, biting back shyness, before you pulled him toward the hottub.

The two of you got into the tub, sinking into the warm water, you felt your limbs relax.

Vidcon was very fun, some of the most fun you've had in a while. But, it was very tiring, having to be around so many people at a time. And plus, it was hard not seeing your boyfriend whenever you wanted.

You pulled your knees to your chest. You could hear the loud techno music a few blocks away, probably coming from the club nearby. The bright night lights of LA was something that you could only imagine sleeping under.

Other than the sound of the city bustles, the hot tub’s jet system, and the occasional ripple of water, the night was silent.

“How was your day?” Jake broke the calm silence. The way the blueish water reflected off his skin made you dizzy.

“Good,” You cursed your voice for being so small. You swallowed the lump in your throat. You didn’t know why you felt so nervous. It was your boyfriend, for goodness’s sake!

Jake loved it when you were shy, but sometimes he was genuinely worried about you. Part of why he loved you was the game that was trying to figure out what was going on in that pretty head of yours.

He reached out for you, clutching your knee. "Baby, what's wrong?"

Your stomach churned. For a second, you thought about that video of him admitting that he had a girlfriend. It made your skin crawl, but when your boyfriend squeezed your knee, it all stopped.

"Nothing," you said simply.

There's a few pulses of silence, before Jake clicked his tongue.

"H-Hey—!"

Jake got up from the water, wrapping his hands around your waist, and hoisted you up so that your legs were thrown on either side of the body, before sitting back down so that you were perched right on top of his lap.

Your chest, nearly bare, pressed against his own bare chest in a way that made your heart race. The warmth of his skin as it contacted yours was an addicting feeling, enhanced only by the warm water surrounding you. Either it was the steam from the tub, or the heat collecting between the two of your bodies, that rose to your cheeks.

You rested your hands on his chest, your fingertips barely reaching his broad shoulders, while Jake’s hands stayed in their spot around your waist.

"C'mon," you could feel Jake's warm, strong chest rumble beneath you. "Tell me what's wrong."

Under the sky, his eyes gleamed, like two gems. For the flirt that he was, Jake was too genuine and pure of a person. The sincere worry in his eyes made you feel warm, even warmer than you felt right now. And sometimes that was enough for you.

You leaned into him, your hands coming up to cup his face. You rubbed your thumbs against his cheeks, to which he let his eyelids fall shut, relishing in the comfort that was your presence. Every time your thumb pressed against his lips, he kissed them, unable to hide the smile growing on his lips when you giggled softly.

At the corner of your eye, you spotted the purple hickey you left on him the other day. That combined with his wet hair, the water droplets temptingly running down his chest, and the fact that you were right on top of him made you feel light-headed.

Your hands left his face, and Jake opened his mouth to whine about it, but was shut up when your fingers tangled in his damp hair, pulling him in for a kiss.

It was a soft, innocent kiss, the type you gave when you just wanted to be close to him. Jake hummed against your lips, squeezing your thighs. You pulled away first, but Jake gently guided the back of your head back to his, pecking your lips.

"I just missed you," you said. You kissed his cheek. "I really missed you."

"It's only been a day," Jake teased you, but he knew better than anyone that he had absolutely no right to say that to you: he was practically dying each moment he couldn't see you.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, staring into each other's eyes. You held onto his strong shoulders, eyes glued to his lips. You were feeling needy, needy in the way that you simply wanted to be close to Jake. You were already close to him, but you wanted to be even closer. Your heart thirsted for it.

Then, you heard a rustle, whipping your head around toward the sound.

"Nuh-uh," Jake whispered in your ear, gently holding your face and guiding it to look at him. "I want you to look at me."

It wasn't until a few seconds later that you understood why Jake's tone sounded so teasing: he was referencing you and him the other day backstage.

"Stoppp," you whined, pushing your face into his neck. "You're so annoying."

Jake laughed, his chest rumbling. He stopped to admire the way you were all pressed up against him. He could feel every curve of your body, and he could feel the way your cheeks puffed with air, your lips forming a pout. He poked your cheek.

"You're so cute, baby."

"I know."

"What's with you getting so bold?"

"You're annoying me."

"Awww, you love me so—"

Fireworks fired off in the distance, painting the gray-blue sky with bright colors.

You stayed in your position, only your eyes moving upward to admire the show. However, Jake stayed staring straight at you, practically ignoring the fiery flowers forming in the sky. He gazed into your eyes, watching the reflection in them.

"It's so pretty," you murmur.

"Yeah," Jake felt like he was falling into your eyes, "So pretty."

Just as another round of fireworks shot up into the sky, Jake grabbed your face, crashing his lips onto yours. Your lips fit into each other well, like puzzle pieces, in a way that was so satisfying, almost like you were made for kissing Jake. But for all of the desire and roughness that the kiss was filled with, it was a soft one.

Jake swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, making you squeal and giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. His hands kneaded your body, roaming all over you with no intention of leaving a single part of your skin untouched. Likewise, you gripped his biceps, digging your nails into his skin to keep yourself grounded.

"Fuck—" Jake mumbled against your lips, only to get cut off by your lips attacking his— "Wait—"

Jake tasted sweet, like candy. He tasted like home, like love, like everything was going to be okay no matter what. How could you pull away now?

"B-Baby, wait—"

"Stop talking, Jakey," you pulled away briefly, only to bite his lip, pulling on the pink flesh with your teeth. You let your tongue roam his mouth, feeling the warmth as your own hands began to wander his toned chest.

"Just kiss me," you breathed.

You kept Jake like this for a few more minutes, trapping him in the heaven that was your lips. But when your bikini top began to untie at the back, something that Jake noticed immediately, he ripped away from you.

Something in his eyes had changed.

Quietly, he tied your bikini top back for you, ignoring your confused (and very breathless) gaze.

"If you keep doing what you do to me," he began into your ear, "I don't know if I'll be able to control myself."

With that, Jake threw you over his shoulder as he hoisted himself up to his feet. He grabbed everything that you brought to the rooftop, throwing your towel over you and ignoring you fussing.

"W-Where are we goin—?!"

"Back to my room."

You were in for a night.

You and Jake were going to stay in LA for a little while longer after Vidcon, so you extended your stay in the same hotel rooms.

After last night, Jake and you fell asleep in his bed.

It was going to be the best, Jake thought. Neither of you had anywhere to be, anyone to put on a show for. The two of you could sleep in for as long as you'd like. It didn't really matter to him, as long as he could wake up with you in his arms, he'd be all right.

Which is why Jake's heart dropped to his stomach when he woke up to you already dressed, pacing around the room nervously.

"Baby?" Jake was alarmed, even as he rubbed his sleepy eyes. "Baby, what happened?"

You whipped your head over to him, your expression pinch and painted with anxiety.

"Check your phone," you muttered as you chewed your lip.

Jake did as you said. The moment he opened up his phone, his screen was filled with text messages from everyone: his colleagues, his friends, heck even his own mother. He was tagged in about a thousand posts all across his social media accounts, and his Youtube home page was plastered with his face. But not only his face. Your face too.

What caught his eye was an article from a major Internet news source that made its round across every platform.

Its headline?

Jake Sim and [Name] [Last Name] are reported to be dating.

The worst part was the cover page.

It was a photo of you and Jake, together in the hottub last night, with your arms thrown around his neck with your lips connected. When he read more into it, the photo evidence got more and more specific. Close-up pictures of Jake's neck to reveal a hickey and lipstick mark on his shirt, your smudged lipstick, a screenshot of the Sanrio plush in one of his videos, even that clip of his laugh in the background of one of your videos. Of course, the most crucial one was that clip of Jake admitting that he had a girlfriend.

This was what he wanted, wasn't it? For everyone to know about you, to be able to show you off.

Objectively, this was bound to happen.

But as Jake watched you pace around, your hands shaking as you looked like you were about to cry, he didn't feel the pride that he thought he would feel if everyone knew. He didn't feel happy, he didn't feel excited that he got to show you off. All he felt was a mix of guilt and anger.

And before he could reach out to hold your hand and pull you close, you quietly said that you were going to go on a walk, and left the hotel room.

The quiet that filled the hotel room was piercing. Jake stilled in his spot, still groggy and disheveled.

Had he always been like this?

He swore that at the beginning of your relationship, he took every measure to keep it private. Because you asked him to. Because he respected you.

Why did he throw it all away?

He agreed to keep things private.

But now he put you in an uncomfortable position and an even more vulnerable position than you'd ever been in before.

Was he a bad boyfriend? Were you going to break up with him? Would your relationship with him ever be the same? That made Jake's heart palpitate. He couldn't lose you. No, he'd die. But then again, he fucked up, he knew that.

Jake ran a hand through his hair. This was an asshole move.

But he couldn't help feeling his fingers twitch for his phone when it ding'd.

The first thing he saw when he opened up Twitter were tweets at him.

And they were surprisingly... supportive?

"Emo boyfriend, cute girlfriend, the best combo!"

"Sending love to both of you. Hope you're doing well. We support you."

"I'm very pleasantly surprised."

"This is literally like Hello Kitty and Batman meeting this is crazy"

But as he scrolled deeper, he found more obscure comments.

"Feel so bad for [Name]. Her boyfriend is a freak."

"He doesn't deserve her."

And the nail in the coffin:

"No wonder they kept it a secret. I'd hide it too if someone like that was my boyfriend."

Why did you keep your relationship with him secret? Jake knew the answer to that: you just wanted to keep your personal life private.

But as Jake plunged himself deeper and deeper into the hole that was the media, he could only imagine alternative answers, and one stuck out.

Were you ashamed of him?

Of course you would be.

You were beautiful in every capacity and just the most perfect person in the world. And Jake was just himself. You were always cute, and sometimes, Jake felt like he couldn't keep up with you. You were far out of his league. His content was considered "niche" and "obscure," of course people, maybe even you, considered him a freak.

He was a bastard, and you were a princess. He didn't blame you for being embarrassed about him.

That's why you were so anxious and against your relationship being exposed, right?

No, no, no!

Shut up, shut up, shut up, Jake thought, his hands balling into fists. You wouldn't. He knew you better than anyone, and he knew that you would never be embarrassed about him. You weren't like that, and he was a fool for even thinking of you in that way. He was being insecure and stupid.

But even so, as Jake let all the guilt, shame, anger, and anxiety settle in while he thought of an apology to you, he couldn't help but feel his insecurity seeping in.

You knew that you were overreacting. You shouldn't have left Jake in there all alone, you should have sat down and talked to him about it.

But there was something scary about having everybody's eyes on you at once, scorning you. You were a Youtuber, of course you knew what it felt like to be watched, but to have the entire internet so hellbent about your personal life made you jump into your own skin.

You just took a walk along the early city streets, you reflected upon yourself.

Why did you keep your relationship with Jake secret?

Part of it was privacy. You didn't want the internet to interfere with your personal life, of course.

But it wasn't like you wanted to hide your love for your boyfriend forever. It wasn't like you wanted to stow him away somewhere no one could find him. You were both adults, and you had to start living at some point.

You'd be lying if you said that you never thought about making a cute video with him, if you said you never wanted to post a cheesy anniversary picture on Instagram with a long caption just for him, if you said you never wanted the world to know that Jake Sim was yours.

You remembered the first time you and Jake talked about keeping it private. He was unsure, but because he cared so much about you, he agreed. Had you ever stopped to think about how he felt? You may have wanted to keep your relationship quiet, but did he? To a degree, there was something selfish about you, both now and in the past. You wanted to preserve yourself and your feelings, but you never even considered how Jake felt.

You were afraid, you felt vulnerable and too exposed to the world. But you cared far more about Jake than those fleeting emotions. Desire outweighed fear, you had to see him now.

But as you marched back to your hotel, your mind racing as you came up with paragraphs of words that you'd spill to Jake, you began to notice your worst nightmare.

A group of men, each with massive cameras that had even bigger microphones.

They called themselves the paparazzi, but they were really only middle-aged men that made money off of being invasive towards people half their age.

Maybe you should have worn a hat, or something, as you were in a camera-infested area that was even more infested with celebrities and influencers. As they approached you, you quickened your steps, trying to get as far as you could from them. You tried your best not to make eye-contact, but alas, they got to you before you could escape.

"[Name]?" one of them called out your name, practically running to you.

Oh my god, you thought, ignoring them as you sped up. Please not right now.

"[Name], are you dating Jake Sim?" The sound of your boyfriend's name out of their mouths made your stomach churn. You kept walking, but you could feel them pointing their massive cameras at you, taking any measure to make a buck off of you.

You had a few choices.

You could make a run for it. Though, you had about six men double your age who would probably chase you down.

You could also give in to them, and give very vague answers. That would require a lot of patience, and simply, you wanted to go kiss your boyfriend, not talk to these so-called paparazzis.

Your last option was the one that seemed the most appealing, but could stir the pot of the media even more and it would give the tabloids what they wanted: you could tell them off and shut them down completely. The only issue was that you were the cutesy, sweet, Sanrio Hello Kitty girl. You've talked about adult topics before, but for you to be hostile and mean to another person? That was completely unheard of to anyone on the Internet. It would also be very reactive, and the media could twist that into something more.

But you wanted to get out of there.

You wanted to go see Jake. If you had to throw a few curse words at people if it meant that you could go home to Jake, then you'd use every curse under the sun.

"[Name], everyone is saying that your relationship with Jake Sim is real and not a publicity stunt. Any comment on that-?"

You were getting irritated.

You stopped in your tracks, turning over your shoulder.

"Will you fuck off?" Your gaze hardened on the group of men shoving cameras in your faces. You didn't even bother looking into the lens. "It's 10 in the morning, I don't have time for this."

"We didn't mean to offend you, [Name], we just wanted to know your relationship with Jake Si—"

You huffed to yourself, rolling your eyes. They loved acting polite only to violate your privacy.

"Cut the bullshit, okay?" you narrowed your eyes. You were only a few meters from the hotel entrance, and they were still stalking you with their massive cameras. How shameless.

Your anger was bubbling up inside you. It was rising, rising so much that you could feel it attempting to spill out of your mouth.

"You want to make a quick buck off of me so bad?" You stepped through the hotel doorway.

If the media was so curious about your life, and if they wanted to go so far as to try to disrupt your relationship, you wouldn't give them that satisfaction.

Everyone loved seeing what you were doing, everyone loved to watch you. It was your job to put on a show, to give people what they wanted. If you wanted to live, then you'd have to accept that.

You were an influencer, a micro-celebrity. You could make tides move if you wanted to. Why be so fearful of the eyes of so many?

But more than anything, you were a performer. And if that's what they wanted from you, that's what they'll get.

"Fine," you huffed. "I'll give you a story: me and Jake have been together for six years. In fact, we met each other in high school when he was my Physics lab partner. Go investigate that, won't you?"

With that, you slammed the hotel entrance door in their faces.

Jake swore he heard the trumpets of heaven when the hotel room door cracked open, revealing you.

He'd been waiting in front of it for a while now, and he jerked up immediately as he saw your face. He jumped right to his feet, ready to spill every word he thought of on you. You deserved an explanation.

But all you did was raise your hand, silencing him instantly. Instead, you took off your shoes, took his arm, and pulled him with you to the bed. You motioned for him to lay down, and did so yourself.

Jake stared at you like you were insane. Were you not going to yell at him? Why weren't you hitting him or telling him that you wanted to break up with him? Should he be on his knees begging you to stay at this point? But he complied (because of course he did, it was you).

You laid on his chest in silence, pressing your cheek up against him.

That made his mind wander.

Maybe you were trying to ease him into a hard conversation. Maybe you were going to forget this until later.

He didn't want that. No, you deserved to hear what he had to say. If you were going to leave him, Jake wanted to say everything that he wanted to.

"I'm sorry," Jake blurted. The silence was deafening, before you took a deep breath, turning over onto your stomach so that your chin laid on his chest.

"What for?"

The gentle look in your eye as you looked at him made Jake choke up himself. He had to hold back or he'd start sobbing.

"For going against your wishes a-and..." Jake searched through his mind for all the words he practiced, but nothing came to mind. Not with you looking at him like you still loved him. "And for telling people about our relationship. I—I shouldn't have done that and I'm sorry for disrespecting the promise w-we made.... And... And—"

Jake sucked in a loud, sharp breath. His eyes were getting watery. He took your hands in his, squeezing them.

"And I know that you're ash—ashamed of me, and I know that y-you won't— you won't want to be with me anymore, but—"

"Wait what?" you interrupted him, squeezing hands back. "I'm not ashamed of you, Jakey."

Jake stared at you.

Jakey.

"I'm not breaking up with you either. What makes you think that?"

The gate that was holding back Jake's emotions broke.

Jake let the tears that he tried so hard to hold back roll down his face. He let out a sob before he clamped a hand over his mouth.

You didn't hate him? You still wanted to be with him?

You instantly threw your leg over his hips, straddling him as you pulled his head to your chest. He melted into your touch, his wet face hiding in the crook of your neck. You pet his hair, pressing kisses to the crown of his head.

"Baby," you whispered into his ear gently. "Why are you crying?"

Jake's crying only got louder, and you couldn't help but giggle. He was a total softie. The way his hold around you tightened told you enough.

Jake sniffled through his words, cutting himself off every now and then with a hiccup and more sobs. "Th-Thought you were gonna l-leave me."

Your fingers stopped in his hair. "Leave you? Why would I?"

Jake pushed his face back into your shoulder, shaking his head.

You let him cry like that for a little while longer, whispering sweet reassurances in his ear as you patted his back.

And when he was ready, the two of you talked it out, because that's what people did when they loved each other. You exchanged apologies, explained to each other your thought processes, and created an agreement: start anew, and you both didn’t mind that your relationship was now public, and if either of you disagreed, you had to voice it immediately. You ended it with a kiss.

You clicked the camera on, checking in the viewfinder that you were in-frame. You were back at home, the pink Hello Kitty decorations in your room, as well as the scent of strawberries, surrounding you.

“Hi, everyone!” you smiled brightly, clasping your hands together. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you all. How are you?”

You chatted about a few updates since Vidcon, telling about your wonderful experience there and how you were so happy to meet all your fans.

“Now, onto the video!”

You peered to the side, where you spotted Jake sitting at the edge of your bed, waiting intently for your cue.

“Oh, Jakey!” you said in a sing-songy voice. “Come out now!”

With that, Jake popped into frame, dorkily saying a quick hi before plopping down onto the chair beside you.

“Today, I will be doing my boyfriend’s makeup!” you chirped happily. “Are you ready, boyfriend?”

The two of you shared a grin.

“Of course, girlfriend.”

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen fic #jake sim fluff #jake sim x reader #jake sim imagine #jake enhypen #jake sim #jake fluff #sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun fluff #sim jaeyun x rader #star-sim #vanya-writes

2K notes · View notes

fatummortem · 2 years

Text

Got a bit distracted in my free time this morning, I have to give the kiddo a call in a bit so I may work on things after if I have the energy or tomorrow if I have time.

#ooc #i really need to find a dude ooc fc i swear #I just walked looking to see who was hiring in the area & too hot even if kiddo isn't up for another chat today.#goodness #but yeah i spent way too much time this morning messing with promo templates #why do they oversaturate things and when you take it off the writing just doesn't pop. they either cause your muse with lovely cocoa skin #look way too dark or if you lighten the image just a little to show it whites it out....#whut if i love the cocoa skin mm?#anyway i was messing with them trying to find a happy middle ground when i was free and lost track of time. sorry~#then i tried to mess with a banner from similar templates and ended up trashing everything #the struggle is real

1 note · View note

dilemmaontwolegs · 9 days

Text

Already Gone {8} || MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x spy!fem!reader Summary: After a record smashing 2023 season it seems to be about to repeat as 2024 begins. Warnings: 18+ only, violence, reader injury WC: 2.3k One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight

The season had ended on a high with Max rightfully where he belonged. You had accompanied him to the FIA awards and cheered proudly as he accepted the winners trophy before jetting off to the Swiss Alps for a much needed break. Unfortunately work was never far away and all too soon it was time to make your grand entrance at the annual end of year Board of Directors meeting at the Scuderia Ferrari Headquarters.

The memory of the shocked faces when you walked into the meeting room and took the last chair around the table never ceased to make you smile. The brooch pinned to your Chanel suit jacket had recorded the moment of silence before chaos erupted while you reclined back in the chair to watch the men scramble for an answer.

Now it was time for the new season to begin.

Melbourne, Australia

It should have been a safe place. You had walked the perimeter three times just to check for any signs someone would be trying to get into the event. You hadn’t found any. Leaving the security team to their job, you returned to Max and accepted the cocktail he had ordered.

Australia was always a lively place for Red Bull as they gathered a range of their athletes across a dozen extreme sports and created some promo videos for the year. This year was no different with a party to kick off the week long trip down under and it was more than just the Red Bull family in attendance.

“What’s wrong, liefje?”

You shook away the lingering feeling that something was amiss and draped your arms around Max. “Nothing, baby, I’m just a little on edge.”

“I thought things were going well with the Board?”

You scanned the room for the current Ferrari drivers, and the future one, spotting them all in separate areas and deep in conversation. “They are, I haven’t been able to find anything planned yet but it doesn’t mean they won’t try something.”

“Relax,” he soothed as he kissed his way across your collar and up to your lips. “You can have the night off worrying. I want my girlfriend not my bodyguard.”

“Maybe if you stop winning all the time I will be able to relax,” you teased. “You’re just too damn fast, baby.”

Max’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he dipped his head to your ear. “I went slow last night, didn’t I? I think I got in trouble for that too the way you begged me to go faster.”

The witty retort you had to torture him with was lost as two men stumbled over their feet and knocked into Max. Unsure of their intentions you shoved them back and stepped in front of him protectively but all they could sum up were a few drunken expletives at your lack of hospitality. It was only going to get worse when you signalled for security to escort them off of the premises.

“It’s fine, liefje, I’m safe, we’re safe,” Max soothed as he rubbed your tense shoulders. “Have another drink with me.”

You turned to the bar and reached over the counter for two shot glasses and a bottle of vodka. “I don’t know how many more 1-2 finishes I can survive,” you admitted as you tapped his glass and downed your shot. You could feel the desperation growing with each Ferrari board meeting but it was the meetings that were happening in the shadows that concerned you more. The only reprieve was that Mercedes had started the season off poorly so it was one less team for them to worry about competing with. “I think we should hire more personal security for you and maybe Checo too now.”

“Do you know what I think? I think you worry too much.” Max laughed at the roll of your eyes in response.

“One of us has to be the responsible one.”

Max took your shot glass and the bottle of vodka, placing them on the bar top before taking your hand and giving it a small tug.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m being the responsible one and taking you back to the hotel,” he said with a grin. “A bottle of wine in the jacuzzi with you is much safer.”

There were plenty of drivers parked outside the venue for when guests wanted to leave and the valet waved one forward. Plastic barriers kept fans back, photographers snapped shots for the newspapers and police lined the entrance for anyone that grew too bold. You scanned both sides of the tiled floor for anything out of place and shifted as you saw a flash catch the glint of metal.

When the gunshot rang out, your first thought was of Max. He had only been a few feet behind you, but with the crowd that had gathered in the hopes to get an autograph you had lost sight of him. Had he been hit? Had he ducked along with everyone else? You dared a glance over your shoulder and found he had been quickly covered by the policemen while the man you had spotted tried to make his escape.

Max’s leather jacket billowed at your sides as you sprinted after the shooter and you heard his voice over the screams of panic, he was calling you back, but there was no way you were letting the man get away. You made it two blocks before he dove into the back seat of a black sedan and fired off a few wild shots as it shot away from the curb.

Grabbing your phone from your pocket you dialled Max’s head of security and it picked up on the first ring. “1NF 2DU, Toyota Caldina,” you panted as you leaned against a building and watched the car disappear around the corner. “Male, early 30’s, brown hair, and fucking short. 9mm Beretta Nano.”

“Got it,” Harry noted before the phone was jostled. “Schatje, where are you? Are you alright?”

You looked down at the tear in his jacket and pulled it aside to see blood soaking your blouse beneath. You closed your eyes as the burning spread to your lungs and your panting grew more laboured. “I’m fine, baby, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, they won’t let me leave,” he growled the last part at Harry who was holding him back from chasing after you.

“Good…that’s good…you’re good,” you sighed in relief and slid down the brick wall. “I love you, Max.”

You heard what could only be described as a roar of pain before the line died and you were left looking at the background image on your phone. You had never been happier than that moment of waking up in Max’s arms on a lazy Sunday before the season began, your head on his bare chest and Achilles curled up on your feet with Jimmy and Sassy. The daily stresses of life hadn’t begun to claw itself to the forefront of your mind and nothing existed outside of those four walls.

As a teenager you lived life a day at a time, not caring if it was the last one because you had never had something to look forward to. Now, the longer you stared at that photo, determination grew stronger than the pain in your chest and you cut your palms on the brick as you pulled yourself to your feet.

“Liefje! Y/N!” Max’s voice carried above the sound of sirens and you tried to call back to him but only a hacking cough sawed through your lungs and your vision dimmed. “Where’s the fucking ambulance?”

Your steps faltered as you followed his voice and when your legs collapsed beneath you his strong arms were there to catch you.

Max thought about just going to the car but there was a young boy holding out a cap and he couldn’t leave the little guy disappointed. He looked up to tell you he would just be a moment when he saw you shift suddenly, then the gunshot rang out. Everything moved so quickly as bodies surrounded him and the crowds screamed in the chaos, and he lost sight of you making chase down the street.

“Max, stay down, we’ll get you out of here,” Harry stated calmly as he pulled Max away from the policemen.

“I’m not going anywhere without Y/N.”

“These are her orders, shh,” Harry growled as he saw your contact calling and answered in an instant, listening intently. “Got it.”

Max snatched the phone from Harry before he could hang up. “Schatje, where are you? Are you alright?”

The pause was long enough for him to hear his heartbeat in his ears and when you finally answered your voice didn’t sound quite right, “I’m fine, baby, are you okay?”

Max looked at Harry who was using his muscle mass to build a wall between him and the street you had run down. “I’m fine, they won’t let me leave.”

“Good…that’s good…you’re good.” Your voice was growing quieter as he grew more agitated. “I love you, Max.”

Max looked at the floor where he had last seen you and noticed the darkened spot of blood stains that led away from him. Strength he had never known flooded through him and not even Harry’s arms that were as thick as Max’s thighs could hold him back. His trousers threatened to rip from the long strides and the quick pace of Max’s sprint and he screamed for you, praying for an answer as he followed the blood drops down the street.

Max knew there were people following him as he ran to the silhouette he innately knew was you. “Where’s the fucking ambulance?”

“On its way.”

The street lights illuminated the pain etched in your face when you tried to walk to him but your legs collapsed. “I’ve got you, liefje, I’ve got you,” Max promised as he felt his hands grow slick with the blood leaking out of your side. “I’m not letting you go.”

Max could count on his hand the number of times he had felt true fear. He remembered the way his mother cried when she had him down to tell him she was leaving and how she wished she could take him too. He could remember the sound Achilles made when the neighbours dog escaped their property and chased him. He would always remember the look in your eyes before they closed.

For three days Max sat at your side, only moving from the room when you were wheeled away for scans and tests. Christian stopped by each night for an update that hadn’t changed and flowers arrived from the Board but Max dumped them straight in the bin, but other than that the room was empty and quiet.

Max knew he wasn’t liked by a lot of people but he never really believed that his life had become a target. You loved that he was still naive to the dark side of the sport and you happily became the shield that protected him from the innocence that had long been stolen from yourself. It was why you put yourself into the trajectory of the bullet meant for him.

Max could still see the footage that Harry had found from the lobby cameras. He had nearly thrown the laptop across the room where he waited for you to come out of surgery. That minute shift, the smallest of movements, had saved him - but at what cost?

“I found a little house,” Max said quietly as he held your hand. “It has an orchard and plenty of space for our babies, and no city around for miles. It needs some things fixed up before we could live there, but it sounds like a good place to retire.” He closed his eyes and lay back in the uncomfortable chair, your hand still resting in his so he could feel for any sign of life.

“I didn’t die just for you to retire now,” you rasped, your throat dry and voice hoarse.

Max was on his feet in an instant, capturing your face delicately as he kissed you with a sound that was some cross between a sigh of relief and a joyous laugh. “You didn’t die, liefje, I couldn’t have survived that.”

“I’m pretty sure I met the devil,” you groaned as you tried to sit up, “he spoke Italian.”

“That’s just Benedetto,” Max said with a flat laugh, placing a hand on your shoulder to stop you moving while the other pressed the call button. “You need to keep still.”

You weren’t impressed by the intrusion of the doctors and nurses who came flooding in and after answering dozens of pointless questions, because yes you were in pain after being shot, they finally left again.

“They’re just doing their job,” Max murmured as he found space on the bed to sidle in with you. He carefully shifted you so that he could lay his arm out before tucking you in to rest your head on his shoulder. “Let them prod and poke you until they are satisfied you are completely healthy again.”

“I just want to go home-hey! Why aren’t you at the track?”

“Did you seriously think I would leave you?” Max shook his head at the idea and kissed your forehead. “You risked your life to save mine, I know exactly where I want to be.”

The stitched in your side stretched as you craned your head back so he could reach your lips. You had thought there would never be another kiss so you were going to savour the feeling that came with it. “I love you, Max.”

“Ik hou van jou.”

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula one imagine #max verstappen x you #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you

279 notes · View notes

jinkiezzsstuff · 2 months

Note

Is it okay to leave a vox x fem!reader request based on G.U.Y by Lady Gaga? You can do whatever you want ofc but in my head vox hires her as a singer at one of his nightclubs and when he gets a call from Valentino telling him how amazing this new girl he's hired is, he comes down to watch her perform her new song, G.U.Y and becomes infatuated with her? If not dont stress! 🤍

i fuckin loooooove this ideaaaa it’s so cute and i love a good singer fic i really do, and it’s vox eeee i haven’t got to post any of him yet! :D i hope it’s what you imagined i enjoyed writing this a lot i got a little carried away.

the song in question if anybody wants to listen quick

warnings: possibly stalky behaviour from vox, i mean obvi teehee, Female reader, swearing, drinking, possible cringe descriptions of song performances, reader is quite confident, mainly focused on vox and him becoming obsessed rather than the two together, NOT PROOFREAD lmk what i missed!

word count: 2.3k

Vox rarely paid attention to the people he hired, at times he would do a quick scan of the person and then promptly send it off to whomever could waste their time on silly things such as resumes. So it was quite a surprise to him when Valentino continuously gushed about this singer he supposedly hired. “No~ You don’t understand Voxy, she’s a minx! A siren. You should listen; really she’s hypnotic. Yknow we get a lot of promo from her, and her little songs in the back of my pornos, mm mm.” Valentino purred, flicking his pipe around in his hand. Vox faced away from the moth, bending over his desk he was zeroed in on a spreadsheet for the next broadcast, eliminating any lesser cared about topics in favour of some newer hot topics.

Humming noncommittally, as his gaze flickered over to Valentino. Admittedly he knew that Valentinos genuine praise was rare, and he typically only gave such to his favourites like Angel Dust, or Vox himself. “Well, go on.” Vox urged flatly eyes narrowed, inwardly he scolded himself for loosing his poise, but the red fuck had him more tense then he usually was. “What?~ You don’t know who she is, you hired her.~” Valentino emphasised, saying his words in a sing song voice that made Vox eye glitch. “Val,” The man brightened his screen, his tone warning. In the back of his mind he worried about how it would look if it ever got out that he didn’t keep track of his employees. Surely some scummy sinner would make trouble with that, using their lack of attention to snoop around.

What if you were some spy, Valentino did refer to you as a hypnotic siren. Vox was pulled out of his paranoid sprawl by Valentino huffing loudly and dramatically. “I’m leaving, you’re so cranky boo~, come see her, it’ll be worthwhile.” With that Valentino strut out, his hips swaying as he exited. Vox stayed frozen in his hunched over position, his eyes void as he blankly stared into oblivion lost in thought. Now he needed to see you, there was no doubt about it. Sliding into his leather office chair, Vox leaned back sighing, he called on his assistant not needing to even reach for a phone thanks to his demonic abilities. Oh the luxury. The small shirt demon waddled in a clipboard in hand, after basic pleasantries about the workload in the building, Vox got down to business.

“Singer at my nightclub, when does she perform?” Vox tried to appear nonchalant as if he already knew, but his voice held an eagerness to it that was unmistakable. “Uh YN? Uh sir, she’s on every night? Y-you booked her to be?” The little demon was obviously scared, his speech was anxious and meek, uncertain of his own claims despite them being true. Groaning Vox closed his eyes and took a breath, he didn’t like doing scheduling he left that to some lower hire, obviously they’re dumb. Too much of a good thing makes it bad, if she’s as good as Val said she is, she needed to be yearned for, they’d need other singers to fill in her days off. Vox’s 40 yard stare made the assistant uncomfortable, not wanting to interrupt Vox’s thought process the room fell silent.

After a few sluggish moments, Vox shot up from his seat with a charming smile on his screen. “Alright you’re so right! My mistake, I'm going to go down for her performance tonight, see if this is something we can keep up.” The assistant mumbled words of compliance and flipped through a few pages on his clipboard. “Alright sir, tonight at midnight she’s performing, her voice is quite raw so she’s only doing a few of her songs.” The shark explained fumbling with his pen as he tried to stick it back into the clipboard. “Ah! Good, that’ll be just fine, reserve me a table for twelve thirty, she’ll be on still, right?” The demon nodded, making Vox clap his hands together in finality. “Great! You know what to do,” Vox flicked his wrist at the demon, making him mumble and exit Vox’s office.

The night club was booming, as it should, Vox was a businessman it would’ve been wasteful if it wasn’t packed. Vox enjoyed leisure where he could find it in his busy life, so he was more than pleased to be comfortably seated closely to the stage in a private booth, hugged next to a wall. The stage wasn’t grand or massive, but it was classy, surrounding the back of the wall was ads for Vox, Val, and Velvettes companies and products, the same was with the menus on the table. VoxTechs products were littered all around, from the radios to the tvs angled at the bar, which already had preprogrammed ads promoting the VoxTech name. Vox sat eyeing the stage impatiently, scotch sitting on the table in front of him on the table, there was a dance floor like area that stepped down from the platforms where the booths were, and in it sinners partied together, lewdly grinding on each other to the music.

No one dared to bother the TV overlord, however he kept his screen dimmed and slumped in his seat, the lowlight of the club making him feel the weight of reality. Sighing, he gulped down the liquid, it didn’t really burn, but then again he couldn’t really taste. Finally the neon lights in the club dimmed, a voice sounded through the speakers telling patrons to exit the dance floor, and announced your performance. Before he had came, he looked into who you were, he was shocked to find out you were a pretty sought out sinner, it seemed like most of your powers revolved around your voice too. You were sultry, fun, and demanding, in reality from what he could find, you were a colourful array of personalities, there was no one box he could place you in because you’d never quite fit.

Vox presumed you too had some kind of hypnosis, it was pretty obvious to him in the way people described you online, you even topped hellborn Verosika Mayday when it came to sales in music, and the microscopic rivalry bred many fans to speculate. It was pretty impressive for someone who wasn’t an overlord, it made Vox suspicious, with how the radio fuck was up his ass, he had means to believe this vocal gift to the radio in the form of you, was someone not to be trusted. The stage lights came on as did a smooth buzzing sound, as if somebody had dragged their fingers up the strings of an electric guitar. “Greetings, Himeros, God of sexual desire, son of Aphrodite. Lay back, and feast as this audio guides you through new and exciting positions,” Vox watched intently as you walked onto the stage confidently, the words fell from your mouth smoothly effortlessly, and a quick glance around the room told Vox he wasn’t the only one to think so.

You were gorgeous, the embodiment of beauty; even if it wasn’t to the typical standards. You were shrouded in pretty fabric that clung to your figure and left barely anything to the imagination, and the jewellery you had on from head to toe made you twinkle in the stage light. Vox couldn’t help but gawk, he felt as though he was viewing a work of art, some sort of ancient painting of a goddess come to life. Without control his fans kick started whirring loudly in the back of his monitor, thankfully Vox was rather secluded compared to the rest of the crowd, however it was still frustrating to be so worked up over some sinner. Suddenly the bubblegum pop music kicked in and you were going.

You sung like you were and killed to, and the way you interacted with the audience, facial expressions matching every coy insinuation from the song, your hands moving along your body as you sang on. You about wanting to be top, while being underneath a man, you wanted to be that guy, girl under you, it made him glitch at the thought of you wearing his bow tie and nothing else as he-, lord he had to stop. He could feel himself letting go of control which isn’t an ideal situation for being in a public club he owned. It was hard though, you were whining, begging in song to be fucked, and Vox felt entirely enamoured with the thought, especially the way you sung it.

Eventually as you strutted to the other side of the stage the song starting to wrap up, and finally you had spotted him. Vox immediately met your eyes, and you were very much beaming at the sight of him, the observant could actually hear you faintly gasp into the mic. Mic to your mouth, your eyes drooped looking sleepy and seductive as you looked at him, pouting you made sure all your attention was directed to Vox.

“I don’t need to be on top to know i’m worth it; 'cause I'm strong enough to know the truth, I just want it to be hot. Because I’m the best when I'm in love, and I'm in love with you.” You sung out, clenching your hand over your heart dramatically, a cheeky grin on your face. You were more focused on Vox at this point rather than the performance, after all he was the reason you accepted the job, and you’ve been working two months and have only just seen him. “G.U.Y- touch me, touch me- mount your goddess; touch me, touch me- a skimmer moon comes into full phase. Get on top of me, touch me, touch me; don’t be shy,” You swung your hips as you stepped off the stairs of the stage, intently focused on the glitching TV. Most patrons seemed too absorbed into their own fun to really pay attention to what you were doing, but there was an occasional person zeroing in on what you were up to.

Sitting yourself on the edge of the table your finger came up under his flat screen forcing him to peer up at your angelic form. “I’m in charge like a G.U.Y, I’ll lay down face up this time, under you like a G.U.Y; I wanna be that guy. I'll wreck you right up, guy, I'll lie down face up, guy, he girl under you, guy.” With that Vox immediately blue screened, smoke coming out from the back of his head.

Vox opened his eyes and was immediately greeted by the comfort of his personal lounge, in the tower. Sitting up he groaned at the immediate pain he felt in his body. “Finally, you’re up.” Valentino purred from his spot on the couch. He had been creepily sitting there waiting for Vox to wake, sucking in his smoke to pass the time. “What the hell happened?” Vox asked, standing from the couch, he slugged himself over to the mini fridge and grabbed a sparkling water, it was his favourite for tasting like static. “Oh you know, you just malfunctioned in the middle of the club~” Valentinos teasing tone told Vox that he wasn’t going to live this down anytime soon. “Oh great, that's just what I love to hear! Vox the powerful overlord- crashed by some singer cocktease. Great.” Vox spat pacing the room, his head buzzing painfully with every turn of his head.

His mind cycled through varying different scenarios and possible headlines that could come out of this- it was ridiculous, made him look like some horny teenage boy. Without another word to Valentino, Vox marched off to his TV room where he could monitor various sinners and places in hell, intending to do intense background checking on you. After all you had to be using some sort of hypnosis, there wasn’t any other way for Vox to overheat by a simple woman. Sitting in his chair he plugged himself in and sat back taping his claws against the arm rest as he waited for things to start up. His movements were rushed, impatient to find all he could about you, sitting back he walked old footage of you walking around, talking with friends, singing in the nightclub, performances you’ve done in other places.

He went through your photos; your entire sinstagram was such a treat to him, he saved your pictures in his files to use for later when he was alone in his room. Vox hadn’t realised how many hours he had been sat in his seat absorbing all the content he could of you, he even found himself reading what others had to say about you, mentally making notes for people to be weary of when it came to becoming a little too close to you. As far as he could tell you were in no connection with other overlords, and if you had made a deal it was kept under tight wraps, not something that you nor the overlord flaunted around.

The TV overlord suddenly jolted forward at the sound of the door opening, quickly he shut the screens off, leaving an ambient blue light keeping the room from going fully dark. Velvette was the one who entered, immediately bitching and complaining about the lack of light, and the “static slacker” that he was being. “What do you need Velvette?” Vox groaned, mind fried from being all consumed with you. “I need you to do your fuckin’ job, yeah? C’mon flat face it’s been six hours. Broadcast time.” She flung her phone flash all around making Vox wince from the obnoxious flashing. “Alright, alright, I was working on very important matters. Go bug Val,” Velvette scoffed as she walked to the door. “Stalking your little hummingbird ain’t it, get on with it.” She snapped looking behind her shoulder to shoot him a glare before promptly leaving the room with a slam of the door.

With a growl, Vox turned himself back to his monitors and began to prep for tonight’s broadcast. Maybe he’d leave a little message in it just for you.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin vox #xreader #x reader #hazbin x reader

193 notes · View notes

matan4il · 1 year

Text

Buddie 613 meta

We now know that the man who risked himself to get Buck out of the line of fire during the shooting arc is Jeshan, which means ‘clear’ (if you’re interested, you can find more name meanings for 911 characters here). So let me just giggle for a second about the fact that 911 had once again reunited Buddie with a character who can be referred to as Captain Clear Me(h)ta. Coincidence? IDK. But I have to admit, it kinda made me reflect back and feel nostalgic. When I first started watching the show, I had no intention of writing meta for 911, but after going ballistic when 309 aired, I knew I would HAVE to use the s3 hiatus to write down all my thoughts about everything Buddie related so far. That’s what I did, I wrote and shared my baby, my first round of Buddie meta. That’s where it was supposed to end, but then people asked and encouraged me to write meta for the eps in 3b as they would air, too. I figured I could try, and that’s how my Buddie weekly meta posts were born. At the time, there was no one else writing proper weekly meta (I don’t mean a summary/review of the ep, or meta posts that stand on their own, but proper analysis on Buck, Eddie and those who matter to them, organized and serialized for each ep as it aired). And now, I’ve been writing them for almost 3.5 seasons. And I feel like they’ve inspired others to do the same. TBH, I can’t actually remember seeing weekly meta posts in other fandoms (maybe they exist and I just haven’t come across them, IDK). So I got all emotional, thinking about how these posts may be love notes to Buddie and the show, but most of all they’re a love letter to the wonderful people who have been supportive and encouraging, who’ve been reblogging the posts, who’ve been commenting on them and telling me that what I do makes a difference for them. Thank you so much, these posts wouldn’t exist without you. You have a much bigger impact on the fandom than you might have realized! So if Captain Mehta is indeed a nod to the meta, it’s a loving, appreciative nod that belongs to all of you. ~~

When Chim shows up to escort Hen to work, he ends up sitting down for a talk with Denny instead, and I really enjoyed this scene, it was lovely, but it also once again emphasized the difference between the firefam kids’ relationship with their parents’ colleagues and the r/s Buck and Chris have. Chim talks to Hen’s son when he happens to come across the kid, but he only sits down for a proper conversation because Denny implies Hen and Karen are up to something intimate, and Chim shouldn’t interrupt them just yet. Consider how different that is to how Buck intentionally looks to spend time with and dedicated to Chris! And then Chim is impressed by how smart Denny is. It’s cute, but it also reveals just how little they interact that this comes as a surprise to Chim. It’s so different to the intimate familiarity of a parent, which is what we know Buck has with Chris (and that Chris has with Buck, which can even be seen in the kid’s teasing, for example regarding the snoring in 414). ~~

You might have seen that, when the promo came out, I momentarily lost my sanity and posted this. I just couldn’t get over the fact that they actually had Eddie correct the chief on the duration of Buck’s death. It was such a spouse thing to do. It was a declaration about the anguish that each single second represented, when Eddie couldn’t breathe because Buck wasn’t. It was a confession of sorts, on how Eddie felt as he desperately NEEDED his husband to live (I’m not even joking when I ascribe him this title, Eddie said with his whole chest, “THAT IS MY IDIOT HUSBAND THAT I HAD TO WATCH DIE FOR THREE MINUTES AND SEVENTEEN SECONDS AND I WILL NEVER FORGET ANY OF THOSE SECONDS, NOR LET ANYONE ELSE DO THAT”). It was a glimpse into how time must have moved differently for him as each second etched itself forever into Eddie’s mind. And yes, it’s a clear parallel to 413, when we witness time slowing down for Eddie. And I mentioned in my post that in both scenarios, Buck is just out of his reach, so close, but simply not close enough. In one case, this forced Eddie to believe he must now accept his own death. In the other, he couldn’t accept the possibility that Buck would die, so he just fought harder, and if he couldn’t save Buck with one course of action, he tried another, Eddie just had to keep going, 'coz the idea of those three minutes and seventeen seconds turning into an eternity? Unacceptable. ~~

But notice in my unhinged post from that day, I used the word ‘counting.’ Eddie counted the seconds, and this is revealed to us at a poker game where Buck is counting the cards. I already noticed that when we saw the promo, but this connection was reinforced in the ep itself when Chief Williams vocalized what Buck was doing. The thing about counting is that it’s reserved for what matters, what’s crucial. Buck is counting the cards in order to win, and he wants to win because it matters to Eddie. Buck wasn’t the one who initiated the search for a poker game where he could use his newfound skills, Eddie was the one to take that initiative. And he could bring Buck along without telling him where they’re going (I would normally scream for a whole separate paragraph just about Eddie telling Buck to dress nice and there being no need for any further explanation or prompting, but we were so well fed, I’ll have to scream about it into my fist for just one sentence) 'coz Eddie was so sure his husband would go along with whatever crazy scheme he’d come up with. And he was right, even though Buck didn’t think it would end well, he still went along with what his husband wanted. Please let me reiterate: Buck’s counting cards because Eddie is so important to him, and Eddie was counting the seconds because Buck’s his vital sign. ~~

Another thing to keep in mind about the poker game is that the only other time we’ve seen Buck playing poker was in 312. In that ep, Eddie was off to meet Christopher’s school teachers (leading to his eventual lackluster r/s with Ana), so having a free evening, Buck spends it with Maddie, Chim and Josh (and is told he unequivocally sucks at Poker). Jokes were made about setting Josh and Buck up, and it was implied whatever Buck’s sexuality was, that was not the reason why Maddie abstained from making the match. What I find interesting is seeing how far our boys have come! In that ep, they were operating separately, and it led them down the wrong paths.

In this ep, Buck and Eddie were inseparable both as a couple (even sharing the winnings from Buck’s new talent, because what don’t these two share? And I was particularly chewing glass when Chief Williams asks Buck how he wanted HIS winnings, but instead of answering her, he looks at his husband. THEY ARE SO FREAKING MARRIED), and as a family unit with Chris (which is maybe a good moment to point out that all of the romantic couples were paired off in 613, and so were Buddie! Now, one could argue that Buck and Eddie were paired off because, well... who else is left for them to hang out with? But 312 is a reminder that when the show wants to, it can push the main cast and minor characters into the same orbit, so it still didn’t HAVE to pair Buck and Eddie off here. It chose to. On top of that, by showing them with Chris as well, 911 reminded us they’re far more bonded than just two best bros hanging out together ‘coz none of their other friends are single). In short, during 312, Buck lost and Eddie was about to be lost on a detour in his romantic journey. In 613, they ARE a family, they work as one throughout the ep, not just in parts of it, and they’re both winning. ~~

Something that gets to me is that when I first shared the BTS pic of Buddie at the poker game, it was clear that Eddie was just bursting with self confidence. He looked like he would be the star of that game. But when we got the promo, we discovered that it was actually going to be Buck who would shine that night. So what makes me slightly froth at the mouth is that all of that sexy confidence we picked up on in the photo? It was real. We weren’t wrong. It just wasn’t confidence that Eddie had in himself, it’s confidence he has in Buck. All of his swagger? Is a reflection of how much he believes and enjoys seeing his husband be a star. I am gonna need 3-6 working weeks at least to recover from knowing this. ~~

Speaking of things that destroyed me forever, everything about the Buckley-Diaz family in this ep falls into that category. I mean, not only did we once again have incredibly domestic scenes, we had one that was very reminiscent of the lasagna one in 601 (Eddie with Chris at the table, Buck fussing around them only to join in once he brings along something to be consumed), reinforcing that this is THEIR NORM, we also had Eddie and Chris being so cute and supportive when it comes to Buck’s new ability (Chris calls him a superhero, Eddie goes along with it, and when Buck’s upset he didn’t get a better superpower, naming some he would have liked to have, Eddie comforts him by saying those other options sound horrible).

And then to top it all off, we had Buck and Chris cooking together. Bobby’s been explicitly acknowledged as basically being Buck’s dad by both of them, and we know Bobby’s been teaching Buck how to cook. Now we get Buck doing the same with Chris, clearly marking them as father and son, especially since this is done with just the two of them, this special time that’s allocated just to their bond together. Eddie is not needed as a middleman. I know that this isn’t news, but every single time the show reinforces this truth, that Buck is Christopher’s other dad, that their bond is that deep, I gain 10 years, so I have to mention it. ~~

For 613, I made my weekly gifset about Buck and answers, but I’d actually like to elaborate on what you see there. In 602, at the happiness center call, we see Buck looking to Lev in search for his own answers on what his happiness looks like. When he still can’t find any, he turns to Hen, because she always has them. Along this season, that’s been his theme. He’s trying to figure out what he wants in order to be happy, which is connected to the couch theme we’ve all been screaming about since 601 (and especially after he fell asleep on Eddie’s in 612). In 613, Buck suddenly finds that he’s the guy with the answers and he likes it. But has he really got them? Buck says these words to Eddie and Chris, and in addition to that, while he utters them, he’s literally captured in the same frame together with Eddie. But it’s also essential that we heard why Chris can’t just be given the answers. It’s in order to learn, Eddie tells him. That’s exactly what Buck has to do, he has to find his answers in order to learn from the search process. He’s not just there yet, but the framing of the whole scene coupled with the ongoing couch theme is very loud. ~~

What gets me maybe most of all in a whole ep of REALLY GOOD BUDDIE CONTENT, is the way the whole thing wraps up. The storyline on Buck’s new abilities doesn’t end with any commentary on those or on his recovery process. His last scene in this ep is the one with Chris. It follows directly the one with Hen and Karen, a scene which reminds us that we’re never surprised at either woman spending solo time with and caring about Denny, even though neither is biologically related to him, because they ARE BOTH his parents. In the same way, it’s only natural that we see Buck spending alone time with Chris, without Eddie around. It is so meaningful that the last shot of Buck in this ep is not about his story line at all, and neither his abilities, nor having died for several minutes is the point. Instead, the last, and therefore most significant shot of Buck in this very Buddie domestic ep, is him smiling at their son. I feel like that says everything about his trajectory.

~~ (my weekly meta posts) (my Buddie gifs) (all of my content)

~~ My tag list will follow in the reblog, please let me know if you wanna be added/removed here.

~~ Thank you so much for reading and for any reblog, like, comment or supportive tag! Also, HUGE thank you to @whosoldherout. On top of real life stuff, she makes her own amazing gifs AND helps make these posts so much better. She’s the one with the real superpowers!

#buddie #911meta #buddie meta #911 meta #9-1-1 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 spoilers #evanbuckleyedit #eddiediazedit #christopher diaz #wm #911edit #buddie gifs #buddieedit #911onabc #911 on abc #911abc #911 abc

853 notes · View notes

brighter-by-the-daly · 6 months

Text

Millie Bright x Reader

Part One: Lover’s Auction

AN: This turned out so long I’ve decided to turn it into a series.

Prompt: Billionaire reader meets Millie though a charity event, reader bids on one of Millie’s shirts, Millie then asks reader out for drinks (reader spoils Millie) ~ @kayls93

TW: this story is based around reader’s mum who passed away (past tense). No mentions of how/why she died to minimise triggers.

It was the night of the auction your dad had spent all year planning, it was to raise money for his company’s charity in honour of his late wife and your mother. He often hosts big auction nights to celebrate the woman you both loved and lost and this year it’s the 20th anniversary which coincides with your 27th birthday. All your life you’ve only known him to be a manager of some big company in London, it’s meant you’ve led a very comfortable life but never completely understood his job role. You did know that he was very well connected and treats his staff like family - from the moment you were born you were adored by all his colleagues, you made them all aunties and uncles. He would often bring you into work with him as a little girl and enjoyed watching you crawl around his office, dreaming of the day he would hand his empire over to you. After your mum’s death he bought you in everyday for months, he needed somewhere to take his mind off things and knew you loved being fussed over by your extended family. They would sit with you to do homework and talk about the friendship drama at school while your dad worked - he was never short of babysitters!

Your dad is the only man you have ever loved, he knew you would come out years before you actually did. He held you when the tears didn’t stop after your first break up, he attends Pride with you every year and always texts that he loves you at the end of every day. Since your mum passed away he had become your best friend and no other woman has entered his life except for you. Whenever he was invited to work parties or social events you were always his plus one and would parade you around the dance floor standing on his feet as he tapped along to the music. In his eyes, you were a princess and nobody would ever be good enough for you.. or so he thought.

Your dad had been running around all week putting the final touches into place, trying to rally up promo and extra giveaways to make this year’s auction extra special that he hadn’t noticed how down you had been lately. The anniversary was a lot to bare for you - hating the world that your mum wasn’t here to spend your adult days with, often wondering if she would have been your best friend and sad that you’ve missed out on growing up with her. Dad was rushing around the house like a tornado when he stopped in his tracks at the sight of you on the sofa under a blanket. “Honey, why aren’t you dressed?” his tone soft and gentle as he ushered over to join you. “I don’t feel like it dad” you tried to brush off the emotion held in your throat as you stood up to correct his tie. You didn’t know that he knew exactly how tie them himself but your simple act reminds him of the mornings he would kiss your mum goodbye after she corrected it for him. Straightening it down his chest you tiptoed to kiss his cheek “you can buy anything you want?” he said with a cheeky smile as he waved his credit card in the air which was enough to get your attention. Holding out your hand to shake a deal with him you rushed upstairs to your bedroom to see a new dress hanging on your wardrobe, smiling at how dad had got the perfect colour to match your skin tone. Over the years he has had to be your dad and mum; learning how to plait your hair to teaching you why periods happen and buying your first bra, he was practically one of the girls by now. You slipped on your heels and delicately curled your hair but before leaving you snuck into dad’s room, fumbling around on your hands and knees trying to reach under the bed until you felt a velvet box. Blowing the dust off, your fingers traced your mother’s name etched into the woodwork, clicking the latch open the black and white photo of your family hidden inside made you choke up as you chose her favourite necklace to pair with your outfit. You heard dad calling as you straightened your dress in the mirror then made your way down the stairs like you were on your way to prom. Your dad was still rushing around the house to get ready when he suddenly came to a halt at your entrance. “Darling” his voice whimpered as he spotted the pearls around your neck, holding out his arms for one of his famous bear hugs.

Entering the formal occasion you were quickly swamped by your dad’s colleagues, greeting them as Aunty This and Uncle That they gawped at how grown up you looked. Pawing over the “when did you get so big” and pulling at your cheeks like they haven’t seen you in years when you only saw them last week. You instantly felt the glow of love they shared and was so glad you’d came as they showered you both in affection. When the group dispersed you immediately turned to dad with a puppy dog look in your eyes and your hand spread waiting for him to offer up his credit card, pecking him on the cheek when he did and making a beeline for the bar. “My darling (y/n)” the bar lady called as you approached, “hi Aunt Sally” - yet another one of your make believe family. “I’m going to need some ID my dear” the dark skinned woman joked with you. “Aunty, you know I’m nearly 30!” batting your eyelashes at her. “My dear, don’t be wishing your life away, you’re miles off that number yet” her thick Jamaican accent rolled off her tongue like honey. Sipping on your cocktail she asked if you’d had a chance to view what’s on offer yet, you said the bar was your first pit stop as she started listing off some things that she had spotted earlier. Glancing around the room at all the people from your bar stall your attention was caught when you heard her say “vaginal rejuvenation” making you scoff just as you took a big gulp of your drink, trying not to choke the liquid dribbled out of your mouth and back into the glass in the most unladylike manner. Trying to hold your giggles inside she passed you another drink when and said you don’t think your dad would appreciate that purchase on his card!

After a few cocktails and catching up with Sally you wandered over to the rows of items and experiences up for auction. Running your finger along the table your eyes scanned the placards of descriptions; bungee jump – “no”, flying lessons – “no”, lunch with Harry Kane – “who?”, spa day - “hmm..” scribbling your name and bid down before moving on, personal shopper spree - “yes!” enthusiastically setting a high bid that you anticipated wouldn’t be beaten. Moving to the next row you spotted the vaginal rejuvenation Sally was talking about earlier, snickering to yourself as you wrote down her name and a bid. Looking up you saw dad watching you intently, raising his eyebrow as he caught your gaze when you threw him a sarcastic little wave.. you knew he was watching how many items you were bidding on! You finished scrolling past the next few tables until your eyes landed on a pristine condition football shirt. Your fingers stroked the fabric as your brain flooded with memories of simpler times, days where mum would drive you miles to games and sit for hours in all weathers watching you play. Remembering how you would purposely tackle as many people as you could to try and get your kit dirtier than the week before, your mother’s groans rang through your mind when it rained knowing she’d have a hard time beating the stains out. It didn’t take her long to get clued up on your antics because she began packing a change of clothes, threatening to tie you to the roof so you wouldn’t sit in her car in your muddy kit. “Are you gonna bid or stare into space with a weird smile all night?” a voice suddenly made you jump out of memory lane. Still stroking the comfort of the fabric with your thumb and forefinger you answered them, “it just brought back some memories, that’s all” upset that your daydream had been interrupted. You didn’t make eye contact or even look towards the person before scurrying off toward the bathrooms to hide the tears that had started to fall. Hearing your heels click audibly across the wooden floor your dad’s eyes looked on in worry as he could tell something had upset you.

Locking yourself in a stall you tried to dab your eyes without ruining your make up and took some deep breaths to compose yourself before making your way back to the event. Just like when you walked in a few hours earlier you went straight back to the bar, “my sweet child, are you okay?” Sally greeted you with a cocktail she’d already made when she saw you leave the room. “I bid on that treatment you wanted” you laughed, trying to move past what had just happened. Watching Aunty Sal gasp in disbelief but her face turning from embarrassment to amusement made your heart happy as she moved away to serve someone else. Hearing the voice of the person ordering was the same as the one who approached you at the bidding table moments earlier your body tensed up again. You looked up to examine them, catching her eyes as she shuffled closer to you, “erm, I didn’t mean to hit a nerve” she said eyes firmly on her drink. “You didn’t, the shirt did. A nice nerve” you reassured before going on to tell the woman about your childhood days on the pitch and all about your mum. She hadn’t realised that this event was for you, your dad had done business with her a few months ago and had asked for a favour, the woman can never say no to charity, so she says! “Why did you stop.. playing football?” she said quietly, wondering whether that was okay to ask. “It hurt too much not seeing mum there” your voice croaked as you tried to hold back the tears again. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to” she said, placing a comforting hand on your arm. “No, I want to. It was the only place I felt truly happy and then suddenly… it wasn’t” peering into your drink stirring it anxiously with the straw, you were yet to make eye contact with the woman and she must have noticed. She invited you over to a table that was free where you talked about how you’d have a competition of how muddy you could get your kit and soon you were laughing and smiling over the memories rather than letting the sadness take hold.

You spent the rest of the evening talking to your new friend until your dad announced himself on stage, tapping the microphone as it echoed around the room. “That’s my dad!” you hollered from your seat as all eyes found you and the table full of empty glasses. He started muttering into the microphone as he began to read out the winners - “the vaginal rejuvenation goes to Sally!” Laughing to yourself as you stood up and shouted for the woman who’s been the closest thing to a mum you have had for years as she hid her face behind the cocktail shakers in her hands. Dad listed off the final prizes until he reached the last one - “the signed England shirt goes to my beautiful daughter (y/n)” Double taking to check what you heard was correct, your face turned to confusion.. you didn’t bid on it? “I know how much you enjoyed football with your mum and I saw your face as you remembered those times earlier, you were smiling and I hope it helps you hold onto the good times” he said as tears welled in his eyes. “Oh dad!” you whined an alcoholic filled ‘aww’ as you run up onto the stage to hug him. His arm pulled you into his side when he thanked everyone for coming. “From both of us, thank you so much for coming out tonight and raising such an incredible amount of money for an outstanding charity that we hold so close to our hearts. We welcome you to stay as long as you wish, to Marla!” “To mum!” raising your glasses into the air as clinks rattled around the room.

Stumbling back to your seat with the shirt in one hand and a drink in the other. you slumped next to the mystery woman who had turned into your company for the evening. “I think you could use some air” she giggled trying to stop all the glasses from clattering as your hip nudged the table. Nodding reluctantly she held out her arm for you to balance on and walked you out to the car park underneath the street lights. Clicking her car keys made the boot of her car rise by itself, “ohhhh fancy!” your voice echoed at the magical car opening before a hand had even been laid on it. “Think fast!” the blonde shouted as a football came flying towards your face. “What the fuck?!” you yelled dropping the shirt to catch the ball at the last possible second. “You’ve still got it! Didn’t you say you were a goalie?” she smiled. “I played everywhere! I did like being in goal but I preferred tackling people, risky business as a goalie!” instinctively dropping the ball to land on your foot as you started keepy uppys, counting 12 until you got distracted by the woman rummaging in her boot for something else. “If you throw another ball at my face you’re gonna get it!” kicking the ball above your head and catching it under your arm. “Fancy a 1v1?” she appeared behind the boot lid wearing a Chelsea shirt… “with a Chelsea fan? My mum would turn in her grave!” you laughed as she asked who you support. “I was raised on our home team, not the big guns!” you continued to poke fun at her but admitted you hadn’t kept up with the growth of the women’s game, you hadn’t watched a match since your mum’s passing and was very out of touch with the sport. “Arms up!” she instructed as she pulled the new shirt over your head, “first to 5?” You objected at first as you were wearing heels until she suggested moving to the grass verge next to the car park and made the trees the goalposts. Kicking your shoes off to cries of cuteness at how short you really were in comparison to her and tying the skirt of your dress into a knot to be able to move more freely. Little did she know how fiercely competitive you are and how surprised you were that you still knew how to play.. amateur maybe, but it felt good with a ball at your feet even though the cold condensation from the grass tickled your toes. Cheering as you scored your first goal in 20 years it lit a fire in your belly as you went in to tackle her, laughing at how you bounced straight off the broad woman leaving you laid on the ground as she scored too.

You didn’t know your dad was watching from the window as she came to lie down next to you. “Look you’ve got your brand new shirt dirty already!” she cried tugging at the grass stained patch on your side. “My mum would be so annoyed!” you laughed as she pulled you onto her chest. “You’d make a good defender yknow!” you suggested to her, eyes fluttering with tiredness as she stroked your hair. “Good job I am then, aih?” she squeezed you a little tighter, making you sit up immediately alert. “Really?” “Yeah… that’s my shirt you’re wearing” she smirked watching you glance down at the crest displaying three lions as the realisation suddenly broke through your drunk mind. “Shut! Up!” your voice irritatingly loud as all the puzzle pieces started falling into place, “you play for England?!” Shrugging at your question she nodded and snickered before adding “and Chelsea!” Your mouth became wider with each admission, “why didn’t you tell me?” you slapped her arm thinking about what you’ve said, especially taking the piss out of her ‘being a fan’ of the London club. “I just did!” her voice turned high pitch as she raised her hands to display innocence. Your head tilted in a confusion as you tried to work her out. Moments of silence passed as your mind ran through everything you’ve talked about since the beginning of the night. “Did my dad set this up?” you questioned her integrity. “No, not at all” she assured you but you were already looking towards the building that the party was continuing in. Spotting your dad at the window with a huge grin on his face and holding a thumbs up to the glass. Mumbling under your breath you clambered to your feet with your hands on your hips to show him you’re very unamused with him playing Cupid. He displayed a “shoo” action with his hands trying to usher you back to the woman who was also now on her feet. “If I knew who you were why would I say what I did at the auction?” she tried to reassure you. Her question changed your demeanour, looking up at the blonde in a way that showed she had a fair point. “I didn’t think I’d have so much fun tonight, I didn’t plan on staying out this long!” she said packing the ball and her shirt back into the boot of her car. “Oh sorry, you probably have a boyfriend to get home to” untying the knot in your dress. “Girlfriend. Annddd.. nope, just the dogs” your eyebrow raised at her admission which she couldn’t see as you were still trying to make yourself presentable again. Grabbing your hand she turned you around so your back was facing her and wrote something on the back of your shirt. Her fingertips grazed down your arms, tightening around your wrists to lift your arms in the air as she slipped your shirt over your head. Pulling it in the right way she laid it over your hands and pointed at the name she’d scribbled above ‘BRIGHT’ on the back. “Millie” you said squinting to read her hand writing and noticing her phone number written inside the number 6. “Yes, Millie.. nice to meet you” she smiled, holding out her hand to shake yours. “(Y/n), it’s been a pleasure” you joked, holding your dress out and dipping into a curtsy, almost losing your balance when she grabbed your arms to keep you upright. Asking to borrow her pen you delicately wrote your number on her arm like a teenager in school, not registering that it was a marker until the last number. Millie had known the whole time but didn’t stop you, she just wondered how she’d explain it to the girls at training tomorrow.

Part Two

#millie bright #millie bright x reader #lionesses #lionesses x reader #woso x reader #woso masterlist #woso fic #woso community #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #wlw fanfic #fanfic series

182 notes · View notes

silversainz · 1 year

Note

Oh pls pls pls the promos 1. “Let me see those eyes.” & 25. “Does that feel good?” with Charles

Thanks, lots of love 🫶🏻

warnings: p n v, praise, this is a mixture of fluff.

early mornings were possibly one of your favorite things. the sun beamed into the room lighting up the room with a pure golden color, as sounds of moaning and little whimpers filled up the once silence room.

“Does this feel good, love” legs thrown over his hips you nodded lost for words only whines and quiet moans falling from your lips, “you feel so good, fuck.” his grip on your thigh tightened up, surely going to leave bruises later on.

“please Charles please” his hand left your breast to grip your jaw turning your head backwards to face him, “let me see those eyes”you slowly opened them, his green one’s staring back at you.

“you look fucking gorgeous” his brutal thrust into your pussy became sloppy, “so, so gorgeous”

“Fuck Charles” it was hard keeping eye contact with him the pleasure becoming too much, “I’m gonna cum, please”

“shh cum sweetheart”

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc drabble #f1 drabbles

552 notes · View notes

cheriladycl01 · 3 months

Text

The Rookie Prodigy - Carlos Sainz x Driver! Reader Part 4

Plot: You are a rookie coming into the 2022 season of Formula One into Alfa Romeo with team member Zhou Guanyu, being in a mid tier team can you help them rise up the ranks. What pressures occur for the only rookies within the 2022 line up!

Credit to macrazylive for the GIF

After Saudi, you and Zhou travelled all the way back to Switzerland to the Sauber Factory where you had a debrief. You talked about your unfortunate DNF but how it shouldn't affect you going into Australia. Talked about Zhou's consistent P11 and that he just needed to push a little harder to get in the reach of points.

You'd spent a good few days there, getting photo's, doing promo's for some of the sponsor brands you guys were partnered with this year and trying to work out what you guys could improve on the car.

It was a good few days but, heading back to your parents home was strange. Nowhere had quiet ever felt like home to you, you'd lived between houses and hotels, the closest experience you'd ever had to finding a home was with Zhou and his family.

They would take you out for karting together and you would stay in the spare bedroom.

Once you left Switzerland you spent all your time up until race weekend with your family. Now they were a little older and had retired they'd managed to retire with quite the fortune, enough to keep them going on holidays whenever they felt like it.

They had time for you now, which felt even stranger considering you were never that close to your parents arguably when you needed them the most and now that you were an adult with your own place they wanted to get to know you.

You couldn't decide if it was painful and endearing, but when they asked to attend the Australian race with you, you felt like things were getting weird.

They of course offered to pay for their own flights, hotel and any other expenses but they wanted to actually see you drive.

So now you were sat in the First Class lounge in Qatar waiting for your connection to Australia.

"How are you feeling about the race?" your dad asks you.

"Yeah, I mean... it's been hard you know I have no-one to look up to on the team. Zhou and I are setting the standard together. In some ways that drives me more, but at the same time it's a lot of self learning this year!" you nod, not really sure how you were feeling about your team this year.

"Do you think they'll see you talent and get you in a better car next year?" your mothers asks.

"I'm not sure, Charles did it after one year... maybe I can too. But everyone seems pretty set on where they are right now!" you explain, knowing the grid seemed pretty locked up until 2024. The only place you might be able to go would Red Bull if they took Sergio Perez out, which was likely considering he was struggling to second Max. But he'd most likely be replaced with the Red Bull B team, AlphaTauri. It was all very up in the air.

The race weekend started up and you barley saw people outside of you team. You tried to find Daniel, to see of he'd come round the city with you but it wasn't looking likely with the tight schedule you had.

"Y/N! Y/N Wait up!" a voice shout's coming out of the Ferrari hospitality, you head spins looking to who the voice come from, but because of the accent you already knew.

"Hello Carlos!" you smile, looking over him. He was wearing his team polo similar to you and jeans although you were wearing shorts as it was extremely hot.

"Come with me!" he tells you, grabbing your arm and pulling you through the paddock.

The great thing about the paddock was how busy it was, it was rare for you to get spotted or caught on camera because everyone was running around, moving stuff, getting to the places they needed to be, helping lost fans who had paddock passes.

Carlos pulled you into the back of the Ferrari motorhome close to the garage where the tires were all stacked and lined up.

"You look so beautiful" he smiles, tucking some hair behind your ear. You blushed not expecting the light touch.

"I'm just in my team gear Carlos!" you giggle, not understanding the appeal.

"Well, i think you look beautiful in everything, a true work of art" he smiles and before you can even thank him or react, he places a hand on your cheek. He starts to lean in, and it feels like your heart is moving so quickly unlike everything else that seems to slow.

And the worst part is you find yourself leaning in too.

You'd sworn you'd never date or get involved with a fellow driver just because you knew it wouldn't end well.

However, when your lips joined you couldn't stop yourself pushing yourself closer into him, deepening the kiss further. He held you closer, the kiss getting more and more heated making him grab at your hips, squeezing them tightly.

"Carlos!" you whisper looking into those vacant brown eyes that didn't have a thing swimming behind them other than adoration. You'd always thought his eyes looked so clueless like a confused puppy.

"Yes mi carina" he says looking down at you, in seconds your lifted up pushed against the wall as he helps your legs wrap around him before his lips attach themselves to yours again.

"Carlos, no we cant" you say pulling away, you push against his chest, and unwrap your legs from around his waist, accidentally pushing your crotch into his making him groan in satisfaction. You can feel him under his own trousers and it makes you scramble even quicker to get your two feet on the ground.

"W-What?" he asks panting a little from the heated make-out.

"We- we cant be doing this. We are colleges professional athlete colleges. And, its a conflict of interest. I'd be at risk for loosing my seat. We just cant do anything, I'm sorry" you explain with a frown before walking off. You shake your head, knowing you'd done the right thing, for the betterment of your career.

As a female you always had to be more careful what you did and what you said as your seat was already more at risk than anyone else's on the grid. You couldn't make this kind of blunder as it would simply ruin your career.

You made your way back to the Alpha Romeo garage, and you knew you'd have to avoid Carlos for the rest of the weekend until you could talk to someone privately and trusted about everything that happened.

You knew it would be Zhou, but you couldn't talk to him now with the nosy members in the garage that would always be wondering what was going on the drivers room, just to get the scoop.

The race was the most interesting Carlos head wasnt in the game after what happened with you. He was overthinking everything and when he got onto the race track, that all relayed. He made a stupid move, backed out of an overtake and spun off which was awful considering he'd qualified P8 and has a good line up to make his way up the ranks and get the team more points, maybe even a double Ferrari podium.

You on the other hand was solely focused on racing, your team only told you it was a Ferrari that crashed out, you made your way up the grid from twelfth where you'd originally started to end up in P8, your team were ecstatic for you but again Zhou missed out on the points for a rookie era that cost him, points of a second on P10.

"So how do you feel about P8, great come back after your unfortunate DNF in Saudi!" the interviewer asks you and you had the biggest smile on your face.

"Amazing, obviously its great from the team getting those points again, I think me and Zhou are both still learning as rookies and it can be hard where we are both rookies on the same team, but I think the more races we do the better drivers we become. Today was hard, but I'm happy where we are right now!" you grin explaining to the interviewer your feelings.

"It really was an amazing race for you today. I think I'll be bold and say that all of us are excited to see what you can do in a better car!" he smiles at you and you nod.

"I think it's really funny you say that. As a rookie, coming from F2 the car's are majorly different so getting used to a mid field car is much easier than fighting your own skills in the likes of a Ferrari or Mercedes or a Championship car of the Red Bull. So I'm happy gaining the skills I am, in the car that I am in now. It's a good car and I have a great team behind me!" you explain and he nods, loving your level of maturity.

"Well, we are all really excited to see what you can bring to the table in IMOLA, what do you plan to do with that break?" he asks and you shake your head.

"Yeah, I'm excited for IMOLA, its got some really tight corners that I'm excited to see how the car holds up! As for my break, I'll be training making sure my body is ready for a fight and in top notch condition, my trainers told me no cheat days until after IMOLA now, so it's going to be intense" you joke before he offers you a goodbye and you leave.

As your PR manager pulls you to the car, you look over seeing Carlos watching you, stood by his personal trainer watching you get into the car, a sad look resting on his face.

"Awww poor Carlos, he must be gutted about the DNF" you manager says catching whats distracted you.

"Yeah, poor him!" you mutter.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane

#f1 imagine #formula 1 x you #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz jr #cs55 #cs55 x reader #cs55 imagine

139 notes · View notes

springlock-suits · 7 months

Text

I am having. Thoughts.

The fnaf movie made alot of things that were already canon stand out to me, really click in my head and make me actually think about it, even though it's already clearly been there for ages

The latest one is me probably realizing that Springbonnie is like. An actual character that Freddy's used. And not just at the Diner

Of course it's always been there and I've always known this but now I'm like. Thinking about it

Was Springbonnie ever in any promotional material? Had merchandise along with Freddy and gang in universe? Is Fredbear/Springfreddy known as well?

I bet after the missing children's incident, even though they couldn't prove what happened, fazbear ent quietly removed the Springbonnie character and tried to hide traces of the walk around rabbit

I wonder if people in lost media subreddits are trying to remember and find the yellow rabbit animatronic this old pizzeria had

Anyway. Back to the REAL thoughts. Promotional material. Advertisements for Freddy's, and so on. Freddy and gang are all based off of plushies, and are all children. Not in a possession since, but like, I figure the animatronics themselves have "ages" around the same as their target audience, mostly bc chica is a yellow chicken like baby chicks are, you could also note that bear cubs have blue eyes but adults don't really

So like. The main animatronics? Children. But what about their dear Springbonnie? A different model and size from the rest, notably different, but the same, and has an actor inside. Well. I figure he'd be the dad of course! Or play a generic adult/guardian role

And now I just. Keep thinking about Freddy's ads, or shorts. Like maybe a back to school thing where he's giving them all their little fazbear brand lunchboxes, giving them a kiss on the forehead or hugs, helping with homework. Or some sorta safety promo, where all the animatronics are running out to play but Spring stops Foxy, and replaces his hook with a hand while it talks about not running or playing with sharp objects because you could accidentally hurt yourself or others

Just. I can't stop thinking about this. Springbonnie in Freddy's shorts or ads or promotional material in general as the animatronics guardian, their adult who's there to help and show them affection

And basically I love this idea because it hurts me greatly

Another 'ad' I keep thinking of would be William out of costume with plushies of the characters. Kinda working as a Barney or Winnie -esque thing going on (to get kids to buy more Freddy's plushies-)

Like just. William and Springbonnie existing, being known and beloved characters. Springbonnie being seen alongside Freddy and gang in the 80s locations just. Fazbear ent trying to erase traces of his and Springbonnie's appearances from the company history because of the murders.

#fnaf movie #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #springbonnie #freddy fazbear's pizza #fazbear entertainment #darlingsfnafau #<-canon to me now #william afton #darlingsfnafau: lore rambles

160 notes · View notes

timotey · 4 months

Text

Some time ago, during one of these promo things, Billy & Babe were asked to reenact the cap pulling beach scene. Let's just say that Billy changed it... a little.

This moment was absolutely fantastic. After putting on Babe's imaginary cap, Billy did this and you could see that Babe totally lost his train of thought there for a second, he didn't expect this and they just stared at each other. That was... wow.

I hope someone gifs this moment because it's breathtaking!

(Vid source)

#the sign #the sign the series #vid recs #billybabe #billy patchanon #babe tanatat #mé

75 notes · View notes

yesimwriting · 1 year

Note

hello! I was hoping for a Joel miller imagine where the reader gets hit on in a bar when she’s dating Joel and he sees this and confronts the guy and hits him because he’s aggressive and is all protective over the reader!

I love your writing and this would be amazing thank you xx

A/n first joel request,, slay

update: watched the new episode, bill and frank, still crying

i feel like this gives post outbreak joel a little more bc of the physical protectiveness,, but i can't remember if there's much/any descriptions of like literal bars in the QZ,, i've only watched the show and i don't remember seeing details,, like ik there's alc/pills available, but actual bars??

idk it's possible i've missed it or forgot bc i have terrible memory

so enjoy my 'makeshift' bar concept as i try my best to deviate from canon as much as possible

not to shamelessly self promo,, but if you like this fic i have another joel fic with what i feel like is a more developed version of this dynamic (bc it’s longer and more internal monologue centered) here and i’m making a part 2 for it so if you like these vibes and want something similar, it’s there, it exists :)

----

You're staring again, and trying your hardest to convince yourself that you're not. It's more than pointless, it's bordering on ridiculous.

Joel Miller is not some fleeting crush that’d fit somebody in grade school better than it’d fit you. Not anymore. You know what you are. You've had a talk. The kind of talk that you didn't think existed anymore in this world.

It wasn't exactly the rom-com 'what are we', but after a man Joel was dealing with got a little too friendly, it led to an argument. One you didn't fully understand, especially since Tess practically lived by his side.

Don't pretend, you might come off as all innocent, but you're too smart to be that naive. Men like that only have one intention.

And that had rightfully infuriated you, because after weeks of lingering touches that could be justified with a few words but never were and all the goddamn looks, he had no right to lecture you about another man's intentions with you. His intentions don't matter because that has no affect on me and who I am. Why the fuck does it even matter?

Why does it matter? It had been this subtle scoff of a response that made you take a step back. That made your back brush against the wall of his apartment. Because I don't want other men like that lookin' at you, let alone speaking to you.

The world stopped spinning on its axis and all the air preparing to leave your lungs was trapped with no where to go. Too many implications. 'Other men like that', the inclusion of himself in men that had those intentions. Maybe even more importantly, the implication that he’s some sort of exception.

Even more deafening, your response: Well maybe I wouldn't speak to them if you didn't entertain ev--

The rest of your sentence, whatever it would have been, was lost to his mouth on yours. A snapping of tension that took its time fizzling down to something less consuming. Something that allowed you both to talk enough to make it clear that Joel was yours and you were his.

It wasn't a magical snapping into place like it might have been in a world without the outbreak. In some ways, it added a new layer of hesitance, and in other ways it propelled you forward. There are growing pains with anything new, and the whole relationship thing is definitely new to you. Especially in this world.

If only you could get past staring. Maybe after Joel secures the whiskey-bourbon-hybrid whatever they're passing as alcohol these days from a less than trustworthy trading contact, you'll get buzzed enough to graduate to handholding, or at the very least, you'll be able to do something besides sit there.

You're starting to feel insane. How is making out easier than the small things? Maybe the setting is more at fault here than you. In the outside world, any form of attachment could easily be twisted into weakness. It’s likely best that you keep some distance from Joel here, especially with the way other men keep looking over at the two of you.

It’s not like you’re never awkward about the little things when confined safely between the walls of Joel’s place, that’s slowly but surely starting to feel like it’s at least partially yours, as well. But the way you get in public is something else entirely. It’s probably for the best. There are already too many eyes on you.

Like the guy with red hair that glints oddly in the yellow light of the stranger’s building. He��s swaying slightly, a dark looking glass in his hand that he’s yet to release in the entire time you’ve been here. Every time one of his friends leaves him, his gaze returns to yours.

Your skin crawls each time, but you keep your expression as stoic as possible. Joel’s getting better at trusting you, better at letting you serve as a sort of backup in the way that Tess usually would. You know that if it came down to it, the man that keeps looking at you wouldn’t be an actual issue, and you know Tess wouldn’t let it get to her.

Ugh. Another thing you want to get yourself to stop doing. Comparison. It’s ugly and so insignificant. Tess didn’t exactly welcome you with open arms when you first showed up, but you get that. And eventually she warmed a little. You think she’d still trade you for a few ration cards, but she doesn’t hate you. She’s, at the very least, no longer skeptical of you. The other day you caught her hiding a smile over a joke you made.

But it’s hard not to compare. They were the closest thing either of them had to a support system for years before you showed up, and you know that they’ve been together casually. Always casual. Joel stressed that part, but that doesn’t mean it’s an easy thing to know, especially now.

You bury the thoughts the way you often do and turn your attention back to Joel. Back to staring. At least you’re consistent.

A man peaks out of the closet that seems to be the source of all the alcohol. He gestures vaguely in your direction. “That’s us,” Joel says, voice flat, “Wait here, I’ll be back.”

Nodding as if to dismiss your own thoughts, you beg your mind to not create imaginary problems by reading into him telling you to stay. He’s walking a few feet away to get some boxes, it’s not the rejection insecurity is making it out to be. “I’ll hold down the fort, keep away trouble.”

Joel blinks, turning his head in your direction briefly. The corner of his mouth turns up slightly, which is more of a reaction than he likes to give when in these kinds of places. He shifts his hand casually, his fingers brushing against yours briefly as he stands. The gesture is small but immediately dislodges the lump in your chest.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” It’s little more than a whisper, but there’s something hidden beneath the roughness of his tone. A pinch of lighthearted humor that’s only visible to you.

It eases you even further. Joel turns away, moving behind the long table serving as a sort of bar counter. You tap your fingers against the surface without much thought, taking a second to absorb the easiness of it all. It’s rare that getting anything require so little. You don’t think anything’s ever come as easy as sitting on an uncomfortable bar stool.

“So...” You blink, posture straightening as your eyes flit to the source of the sound. “Guard dog finally left you alone, princess?”

Okay. Ew. Of course it’s the guy that’s been staring you down since you first sat down. You have to fight to not let your nose wrinkle. There’s no good in reacting, in escalating the situation. “Not a guard dog.”

You hope that it’ll be enough to show that you’re not interested. “Aw, not feelin’ too friendly, baby.” Ew. You’re torn between cussing him out or actually punching him. Neither is an actual option. Places like these are a minefield and you refuse to be the one to set off a series of explosions. “Maybe you’ll cheer up after a drink, could get you one.”

Turning your head, you take a breath before replying. “I have enough friends.” The stranger is clearly apart of a group. You don’t know if you could call them all friends, you’re not sure there’s enough casual trust in the world left for genuine friend groups. But they’re at least acquaintances, or work associates, or maybe they met here, equally inebriated enough to accept each other. It doesn’t matter, the point is they were chatting up a storm before he decided to wander over here and bother you. “And it looks like you do, too.”

“Fine,” he relents too quickly, “Let’s not be friends, then.” His hand shoots forward, landing firmly--and disgustingly--on your waist. “Let’s be something else.”

You’re unsure if you’re more repulsed by his hand on you or how terrible that line was. Your own hand clasps his, pushing and pulling in an attempt to create a space. He’s relentless, even when your nails start clawing at him. “If you want to keep your hand, I suggest getting off of me.”

He blinks at your threat and then grins, flashing a smile that’s missing teeth. And then he laughs. A cold chuckle that makes its way beneath your skin. “God, I like them feisty.”

Shoving your fingers under his, you manage to pry him off of you. Your foot moves, heels smashing into his toes as subtly as possible. “And I like them when they know how to fuck off.”

His smile broadens, a cynical undertone to the look that makes it worse than before. “Oh, darling,” his hand finds your arm, tugging you forward, “You’re gonna pay for that.”

“Pay for what?” Relief washes through you before you’ve even fully registered the familiar, even timber of Joel’s voice. He’s speaking in a lower tone than usual, an icy rage that you can feel in your bones and it’s not even directed at you. “Touching what’s not yours, ‘cause you’re the only one doing that.”

There’s probably something you should say. A subtle warning to not go beyond scaring off the man that is clearly incapable of respecting a woman’s autonomy outside of another man’s claim over her. To not take it too far because it’s not worth it. Because you have it under control. Relatively.

Instead, you’re silent as the man releases you. He takes his time assessing Joel. The stranger is physically smaller and Joel does have that edge that only comes from someone that’s lost enough to be dangerous to anyone threatening what’s left.

The man holds his hands up in defense, his glass sitting precariously between his thumb and pointer finger. “Easy, man.” You don’t even have to look at Joel to know that that was the wrong thing to say. “I didn’t mean any harm, if you set the price right, I’d be--”

The rest of the proposition is taken care of by Joel’s fist connecting with the man’s jaw. You hear the audible crack before your mind can make the connection between Joel’s quick movement and the man’s silence.

Holy shit. Joel didn’t just throw a punch, he threw a punch meant to shatter bone. He barely glances at you, and you’re too focused on the fact that Joel’s standing there, completely fine like he didn’t exert enough force to knock over a grown man. You blink as Joel extends the arm he’s been using to hold the small case.

You’re too shocked to do more than take the box. The implication of why he’d hand you the box while still standing there doesn’t settle until Joel’s throwing another punch. Each hit is more committed than the last, even when the stranger’s knees give in and he collapses.

Yeah, there’s definitely something you should say. Now. Like right now. You’d never ask him to hit anybody once, let alone do whatever he’s doing now. But words like ‘stop’ and ‘okay, think he gets it’ all jam themselves so far down your throat, you wouldn’t be able to pry them out with a wrench.

All you can do is watch. It’s the kind of morbid fascination that reminds you of what it felt like to drive a little slower when passing a car wreck. You’re rooted in place by a realization that’s always been there at the back of your mind, an implied awareness. Joel’s more than just prone to violence when he needs to be. He’s angry.

It should scare you. Terrify you. Your stillness should be some byproduct of that. But it’s not. Joe’s not a danger to you, he’s a danger for you.

It’s a level of protectiveness you never thought you’d experience. Your chest feels warm. You hope you’re not messed up enough to consider this some grand display of love. However, there’s a vulnerability in the violence you can’t deny. You’re in a public place, the kind of morally questionable people that are far from above exploiting vulnerability. And yet here he is, announcing an undeniable attachment.

Joel finishes, chest heaving and hands still curled into fists. The low light makes the thin layer of sweat on his skin seem like he’s practically glowing. His knuckles are already evidently split and swirling in distinct shades of blue and red. You’re mesmerized.

“You can’t do that shit here.”

That’s it. The only reprimand. In the world of before, he would have gotten the cops called on him. He would have gone to jail.

Joel looks up, mumbles something under his breath that sounds suspiciously close to fuck off. He then looks at you, gestures with a tilt of his head for you to follow, and walks forward.

You try not to think of what it must look like when you follow, quickening your steps to get closer to him after you’re out of focus. When you reach the door, Joel pulls it open with one hand and reaches for your fingers with the other.

----

The way your eyebrows draw together when you’re examining an injury is different than the way they pull together for anything else. It’s too focused to be concerned and too concerned to be focused.

Joel could stare at that expression for longer than he’d ever admit to. He could concentrate on that little line above your forehead and forget about everything else. “I’m fine,” he mutters, knowing that there’s no real point. You’ll do what you’re going to do when it comes to these kinds of things.

You nod absentmindedly, another small sign that you’re not as here as you normally odd. “It’d be awfully sad if you died of something as small as non-fungal infection.”

He swallows, minding that look behind your eye. Things are still normal, you’ve yet to show any sign of rejection. He kept your fingers locked practically the entire way here and you let him. Never pulled away.

It’s not like he needs to apologize. Joel did nothing wrong. He even gave you a minute to handle the situation, but the man was relentless. The kind of asshole that takes advantage of a world with little order to prey on women. Joel would do it again. And again. And again. There are no regrets there.

You’re not naive. You know what you signed up for when you accepted him. He’s never hid that from you. That doesn’t change the fact that you’ve always had a pension for forgiveness, a pinch of empathy the world hasn’t managed to snuff.

“You’re dramatic, anyone ever tell you that?”

A touch of a smile pulls on the corner of your mouth. “Hm. Think I’ve heard that once or twice from this one guy. Dark hair, dark eyes, cute, but not really my type.”

Joel smiles, a partial laugh escaping him. “Really?”

Turning over his hand with a gentleness he still finds difficult to understand, you press a quick kiss to his palm. You move back into your previous position so quickly it almost feels bashful. “I think you know the answer.” You flip his hand so that his knuckles face you again and go back to cleaning them. “You know, you didn’t have to...I wouldn’t have ever asked you to do that.”

Joel can’t help his partial smile at that. Like there was ever any doubt. “I know,” he manages, “You’re not that.”

It takes a second for you to understand what he’s implying. That you’re not like him. Yes, you get mad and you have nothing against putting people in their place, but you don’t like hurting people. Your lips part awkwardly, like you want to say he’s not that either, but you can’t. He just proved it to the both of you.

“Nothing wrong with being like that,” you say, all too casual, “So don’t say it like it’s this big thing.” There is no end to the level of understanding you offer him. He doesn’t deserve it, he never will. “And you’re not like that in the way you mean. That asshole was, you’re not.”

Joel lets out a low breath. Of course, even this you’d find a way to reframe. “You’d think so.”

“I’m right.” It’s a quick reply, and the exact kind of response he expected. “You’re not a shitty person just because you beat up some guy or any of the reasons you’re thinking. New world, new morals. Accept it.”

Your lips pull together into what’s almost a pout in your determination. Always so sure when it comes to him. “Mhm,” he breathes, watching your surprise at his compliancy. You know something’s coming, but not what. Your awareness does little to help you when Joel twists your hand in his pushes you back against the couch. “And what about you?”

He hasn’t grabbed your hands yet, but you stay still, eyes trained on him. “I am a lot meaner than you think I am.”

He tilts his head down to hide his amused expression. Your version of mean is fighting back. “You want to prove it?”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #tlou #tlou x reader #the last of us #the last of us x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us fanfic #tlou show #tlou fluff

677 notes · View notes