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#itself is obscure as well???????
just-jammin · 4 months
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i did a thing on famitracker
cover arrangement is based on the original song, as well as a musescore sheet
yt version coming up soon :3
(all links will be listed in subsequent reblogs)
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phoenix-clan · 3 months
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finished a little bit more work on 5, then immediately went on to work on this very quick mockup of the territories in inkarnate
check my tags for information on the territories and their inhabitants :)
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overthinkinglotr · 2 years
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RE: Amazon's Lord of the Rings series: I think this excellent video from Sarah z -- about the way that right-wing backlash against certain media properties makes it nearly impossible to have genuine conversations about them, because you can't talk about them in good faith without inadvertently adding to the right-wing dogpile of people criticizing them for racist sexist reasons -- conveys pretty much everything I should probably say about it ladjflksdfs. Sarah Z makes a great point that this kind of vicious right-wing backlash often tends to deliberately focus media properties that are mediocre because of other reasons (like boring corporate mandates) and claim they're mediocre because of diversity. Right-wingers intentionally ignore properties that have diversity and are Good, and intentionally ignore the billions of shows/movies that aren't "woke" but are also similarly mediocre. Because right-wingers don't actually care about the "quality of art" unless they can use that as a weapon to attack the people they hate.
youtube
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cybermeep · 4 months
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cyrillic letter multiocular o my beloved… ꙮ
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serpentfever · 1 year
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If nobody writes a lovecraftian/eldritch based mob psycho fic I might have no choice but to do it myself 
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astranauticus · 7 months
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so the overall.. shape and tone of my current project is pretty much set in stone (im SO CLOSE to 50% done you guys) but i was looking through my saved videos folder on bilibili and if im gonna be doing another animatic after this one (honestly pretty likely??? given my. floruitshow obsession that doesnt seem to be going anywhere anytime soon) i REALLY want to attempt something closer to that style of animatic you see a lot on bb that employs more on elaborate editing as opposed to like............... the powerpoint presentation type beat i've got going on now
(nevermind the fact that a lot of the projects that really lodge themselves in my brain were also like collaborations between teams of people with like dedicated editor roles and i still havent fully figured out how to use lightworks. like ive also seen one man projects in this style that turn out absolutely gorgeous so i KNOW it can be done. maybe i'll go figure out if capcut is easier to use lol)
#asto speaks#re: the ProjectTM#the massive team efforts are mostly genshin animatics whaddaya know#perks of fandom big?? i guess???#that and the other noir's stultifer cantus amv i feel like i bring it up a lot but it truly genuinely haunts me#i just. love love love their art style so much and its *so* beautiful and well edited#i mean obviously im not pulling that off in the foreseeable future but#映剪/capcut is a software i saw recommended by the creator of an animatic for a rather obscure variety show i was OBSESSED with last year#saw that animatic a few days ago and it immediate lodged itself in my brain its SO GOOD. and it was a one man project!! walaoeh#op made a joke about worrying about paying for adobe after effects and realising capcut has everything they need LOL#and their project SUPER well edited and put together so idk i might check it out#im just. not fully sold on the powerpoint presentation style at least not when i do it lol#anyway if i do try something like that it'll probably be for set me free because if i *am* gonna do the robit floruitshow trinity#lets just say im gonna be procrastinating how can i make you stay for last that song is *fucking long*#its like what. 5 minutes? nabei#also i already have a few shots for set me free in mind i just need to stop... thinking about the xiao animatic for the same song lol#that project has like 8 credited artists and 6 animators comparing myself to that is just like#an exercise in pointlessly creating misery in myself
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morethanwonderful · 9 months
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The thing nobody tells you about running tumblr polls is that if you're obsessive enough, (I'm obsessive enough), gathering the little images to go with each poll is by far the most time-consuming part of the whole process
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friedricebunny · 9 months
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fanfic writer kdj is a idea that sometimes bounces around in my head but honestly i'd have no idea where i'd even go with that idea (also tbh i'm not confident enough in my understanding of kdj or anybody's characterization to want to write them)
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mr--spider · 1 year
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RQ CREW REFERENCING GONCHAROV (1973) ON THE KICKSTARTER MAGNUS PROTOCOL STREAM
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watchingthefog · 2 years
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Abandoning my og!Elias WIP to write some illegally soft LonelyEyes... They should go on vacation together: Peter planned the entire trip himself, hidden the whole time within the obscuring fog of the Lonely, because Elias hates surprises so of course Peter wanted to surprise him
#Peter has always been good at only letting Elias See him when he wants to be seen. Elias worked hard to get through his barriers‚ early on#but Peter of course needs his time alone. he oft keeps Elias out. it's good for their relationship: absence makes the heart grow fonder :P#(it's enthralling to Elias‚ getting close to someone so good at obscuring his sight. tantalizing to have him close but just out of reach)#but needles to say‚ Peter keeping to himself wasn't suspicious by any means. it was‚ then‚ truly a surprise#when Peter announced on a Friday morning that Elias would be joining him that afternoon‚ as soon as he left work‚ on a flight.#to where‚ he refused to say. and the Eye itself could not provide him with the information hidden so well by the Forsaken#it annoyed Elias all day.#the private jet was manned by long-time Lukas employees. they were not nearly as hidden from his gaze as Peter himself‚#but they were good at staying unseen. it was not until hours into the flight that Elias finally Knew where they were going.#“The Caribbean‚ Peter?” Elias muttered. The Edward Bodden Little Cayman Airfield‚ specifically. he rolled his eyes fondly#Of course if Peter was going to pick a tropical island for his vacation spot‚ he'd choose one with a population of less than 200#the Institute employed more people than that.#“All this secrecy just for that?” Elias asked. Peter's only response was to laugh at him. Elias scowled.#he was hiding something else‚ and even if Elias didn't Know‚ he could certainly guess. “I am not getting on a boat with you.”#Peter laughed again‚ far too delighted to have tricked his husband into finally going sailing. well. that's fine.#this marriage had lasted too long already anyway. it was their first time celebrating an anniversary‚ after... all... Oh.#Elias blinked. Peter planned this for their anniversary? yes‚ of course he did. he remembered ahead of time‚ without any input from Elias#that was... that was actually touching.#it did Not make up for the motion sickness Elias was sure to suffer from this weekend‚ but it was... something.#in the end‚ Elias got on the boat.#on Tuesday‚ after the long weekend holiday‚ Elias came back to work horribly sunburnt because *someone* didn't pack sunscreen.#this is exactly why *Elias* plans their trips instead of Peter. he certainly wouldn't have forgotten anything#alright now time to turn those tags into a real fic#i have Thoughts about Lukas employees. Peter is sailing them on an absolutely oversized massive yacht btw. sailboat yacht ⛵#of course it has many employees. chefs‚ cleaners‚ a navigator and a captain for when Peter doesn't feel like driving the boat himself.#Peter doesn't notice any of them. the help don't exist to him. Elias‚ however‚ feels their eyes and knows when they think about him#this is a new yacht and those are new employees and they are not Lonely yet. it's a delightful vacation‚ actually#Elias makes sure that Peter and he are heard and that their activities are gossiped about. Peter remains none the wiser#alone (for a certain value of alone) on the ship‚ for a short while‚ they are both content.
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traitimdoithay · 1 year
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because i’m a gamer™ i do sometimes listen to those game music playlists people make but i’m not even going to lie some of these playlists just have the same games pop up over and over like… it’s okay to broaden your horizons 😭 and also because i have an interest in obscure games i admittedly get a little miffed when someone makes an “obscure game music” playlist and they have songs from the most popular game series ever like pokemon or mario or kirby like come on now…
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star-sim · 3 months
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hello kitty meets batman (real not clickbait!) ☆ jake sim
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☆ 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
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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.
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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.
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.
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.
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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.
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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.”
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cryptotheism · 3 months
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How many languages do you speak?
You are always talking about alchemist that lived all around the world in very differente time periods. And you have mentioned several times that there's a ton of numerology hidden in their texts, counting syllables and letters of certain words and paragraphs. So one would assume you need to read them in the original language it was written, right?
That's a really good question! As with most really good questions, the answer is "kinda, it depends!"
So! Most alchemical texts are written in some form of coded language, but the nature of that code depends on the era and culture the text is being written in. Depending on how its written, modern scholars have a lot of different tools for cracking open alchemical esoterica.
Most ancient Greek/Byzantine texts are written in postclassical Greek. But, they're often written in dense philosophical prose. The reader needs to be familiar with the likes of Plato, Aristotle, and the early Neoplatonists, to make sense of them. Luckily for us, people have been studying postclassical Greek for nearly 2000 years. There are many excellent translations into English.
Late Egyptian alchemists wrote almost entirely in pictograph code. Not as in hieroglyphics, mind you. Egyptian alchemical recipes often made use of custom character sets and symbols that represented alchemical concepts. (One famous example, the Formula of the Crab, uses a complex diagram that looks like a centipede to represent a particular gold compound.) These are damn near impossible to read without expert help.
At the same time, Jewish and Syriac writers of the era could get by on the fact that not everyone could read Hebrew and Syriac lol. The language barrier itself acted as a sort of copyright system for protecting their ideas. Luckily for us, many of these texts were preserved and translated by medieval Arab scholars!
Speaking of Arabic, once you hit the Islamic Golden Age, the amount of alchemical literature increases by a factor of ten. Thing is, the Islamic Polymaths weren't all that interested in obscuring their work. The Islamic Golden Age was all about copying and translating older works, and compiling them into big textbook/dictionaries. They're not intentionally encoded, they're comparatively easy to read once you get a good translation. Thing is, you gotta know your Neoplatonism. Medieval Islamicate scholars love Neoplatonism.
Then we get the reintroduction of alchemy to Europe around the 10th century. What you get is about 400 years of monks painstakingly translating medieval Arabic into Latin. A lot of these texts are very well preserved, and have good translations into English.
Then, around the late 14th century, European entrepreneurial alchemy kicks into high gear, and THIS is where we get all those fancy numerology encoded alchemical texts. Renaissance alchemists loved themselves some puzzles. This would be fine if they were all just writing in Latin, but the printing press meant they could write in any damn language they please. You get a lot of French, German, Dutch, Italian, and antiquated English alchemical texts, and they can be a bitch to read without help.
BUT the introduction of the printing press also gave us something useful: cheap picture books! Late renaissance alchemists loved writing in word games and coded metaphor, but they also loved including esoteric diagrams. And the thing about esoteric diagrams is --if you know your stuff-- you don't need to speak 15th century french to read a picture. Which isn't a replacement for reading the original translation, not even close, but the explicit purpose of these images was to prove to other alchemists that the author knows what they're talking about. So if you can read them, you can get a damn good sense as to what the text is about.
This was fun to write so I'm gonna plug my patreon if you wanna see me write more about alchemy.
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ceilidho · 5 months
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prompt: vegas wedding (ghost/reader)
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Your fingers trail over to the other side of the bed and touch something solid.
It jolts your body back into itself, mind awake when you register the heat of warm skin where there shouldn’t be skin. Not next to you in bed. The other side of your bed is usually cold to the touch, the sheets still pressed and tucked in place, undisturbed because you tend to stick to your side. They’re rumpled now, the sheets; tented under the body next to yours. 
You open your eyes only to instantly shut them. There’s an ache in your forehead that throbs when the sunlight filtering in through the gap in the windowblinds hits your eyes. You remember drinking the night before, but not much more than that. Actually, you don’t remember much from the night before besides getting dressed up in the hotel room with your friend before parting ways in the casino. 
Getting out of bed feels like it takes every ounce of energy left stored in your poor, aching bones. You turn on your side ever so carefully before shimmying out of bed, woozy enough when you stand up that you have to grab onto the bedside table to keep from crumbling into a ball on the floor. 
It sparkles in the light when you happen to glance down. One big, gaudy rhinestone in the centre and then a band of diamonds all the way around. It’s heavy on your finger, accentuated by the emotional weight and repercussions of it that threaten to actually make you topple over this time. 
“No, no, no, no,” you whisper to yourself, trying to pull it off and wincing when it doesn’t budge past your knuckle. Too small. You must have really shoved it on the night before. 
You wince at the thought of how much work it’ll be to take it off. Surprisingly, it doesn’t hurt though—it catches around your knuckle, but rests perfectly when you push it back down to sit on your finger like a ring should. 
The man under the covers—it’s an assumption, you’ll admit it as you don’t know for sure that it’s a man—makes a noise, shifting in his sleep. Your blood coagulates in your veins as your head whips over your shoulder to watch him carefully for any sign of wakefulness. For the first time since waking up, you get a glimpse of the man probably wearing a ring matching yours and he—well, he really takes up his side of the bed. 
The big lump under the covers doesn’t move as you stare at him. You don’t allow yourself more than a glance, charting the slope of his back muscles and the top of his dirty blond hair. He lies on his stomach, cheek pressed into the pillow facing away from you, obscuring his face. Probably better for you.
Still fighting the urge to scramble out of the hotel room with your things, you allow yourself one smug moment. He’s handsome, whoever he is—you’ve certainly pulled worse. More to your credit, you somehow talked him into getting hitched in Vegas. His back rises with every breath; you stare for a while and wait for the periodic soft, gruff noises that he makes in his sleep. When he turns over onto his back, you muffle a squeak when the covers tent under his barely covered morning wood and slowly back away and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.
The shower doesn’t help at all; it just prolongs your panic attack that worsens every time you glance at the door and imagine the man sleeping in your hotel bed waking up on the other side. It does feel good to wash off the grime from the night before, however, scrubbing every nook and cranny of your body. 
He’s sitting on the edge of the bed when you come out, only a complementary hotel robe wrapped around you. You freeze. Big shoulders undulate when he rolls them back, stretching them out after a long night’s sleep. When he stretches an arm up to scratch his upper back, you almost whimper at the way his arm bulges. 
“Thought you could sneak out, is that right?” he grunts, his accented voice rippling down your spine. You hadn’t expected it to come out of his mouth, not this large, blue collar-looking man with his muscled pectorals and the bit of pudge around his middle, softness that comes with labour and not vanity. He drags his hand over the scruff growing on his face, only slightly darker than the hair on his head.
“…I’m not really sure what to say,” you blurt out, reflexively tightening the belt cinching your robe in place. Conscious that your day-old clothes are still sitting in a pile on the bathroom floor, nothing underneath your robe. 
The man stares at your chest like he knows it too. “‘Course you do, love. Probably would’ve skipped off if I hadn’t gotten up, tail tucked between your legs.” His stare flicks down to your legs then, eyes growing heated, half-lidded. You frown.
“That’s how this goes, isn’t it? We, uh, do…this…that…last night or whatever,” you stutter out, face hotter than you’re comfortable with it being, “and then we go our separate ways. That’s what I’d expect from anyone.”
“‘Anyone’ isn’t wearing my ring on her finger,” he points out, tilting his chin towards your hand. You hide it behind your back. 
“That was an…” you clear your throat, “unfortunate detail. I can fix it though, I swear, just…just give me your email or something and I’ll send you the papers.”
This is precisely the most uncomfortable moment of your life. Thus far, anyway. You’ve had worse things happen to you, but as far as uncomfortable things go, little else comes close to subtly implying that you’ll serve a man whose name you don’t even know divorce papers. It’s certainly not what you expected from a weekend girls’ trip to Vegas.
He tilts his head, eyes locked on you. “Don’t worry about all that, love.”
“Why? Do you—I can give you my email address instead, if you want to…if you have a lawyer friend that’ll help.”
“No. Don’t need help with something that isn’t gonna happen.”
You can feel your temper getting the better of you. This whole weekend is shaping up to be a bigger headache than just the hangover you’re nursing. “A divorce—I’m talking about getting divorced, if that isn’t clear.”
“It is. It just isn’t happening.”
He’s being far too casual, unconcerned with your fists clenching at your sides, eyes lazily sweeping you up and down. He yawns like a big cat. 
“What are you talking about?” you hiss, taking a step towards him. Trying to seem intimidating even though your heart is beating erratically in your chest. “You can’t just say no. This shit happens and then—why wouldn’t it happen? It’s just a divorce!”
“Don’t believe in divorce, love. I gave my word.”
His words hit you so hard that it briefly rocks you out of your headache. “That’s so—that’s so stupid! It’s practically an annulment anyway! We didn’t even, you know—” your voice drops to a whisper, embarrassed, “—consummate it.”
“Maybe didn’t get to the whole course, but we didn’t do nothing,” he teases. A subtle thing, barely a twitch of his lip to let you know that he’s toying with you. Men like him toy with their prey like cats with a mouse. 
He probably isn't wrong. You might remember it with time, but he looks like a man that’s seen you naked. It’s an infuriating look. 
“Look, I’ve got—my friends are probably wondering where I am anyway.”
“Give ‘em a call; you can tell ‘em you spent the night with your husband.” No mistaking it now, the heat in his eyes. Nor the blankets bunched in his lap in lieu of his clothes, a fact you’d been carefully not letting yourself focus on for fear that you’d wind up just staring at his crotch. 
Like you are now, helpless to do anything as he drags the sheet away, letting it slip off the bed. His thighs are dusted in dark, coarse hairs, wide enough that you could comfortably sit on one of them. He gives one a pat too, beckoning you towards him. 
“Come back to bed,” he suggests, dick resting red and heavy against his stomach, big enough that you know you would’ve remembered having that inside you even if you’d blacked out. “Let me wake my wife up the right way.”
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bensolosbluesaber · 11 months
Text
Nowhere to Run: Part 1 (Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader)
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Pairings: Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader
Warnings: Hints of suicidal ideation on reader’s part, Fang stuff (Miguel uses fangs on reader), Chasing, Miguel is maybe ooc (I only saw the movie once and was mostly trying to keep from audibly moaning every time he was on-screen), Miguel and reader fight - he does some damage, Poison, Wounds, Not edited (but I will come back for some minor edits later on), Let me know if I missed anything
Summary: After the collapse of your universe, you resort to jumping around the multiverse to survive. Evolution gave you the powers needed to escape your universe. Technology of your own design stopped the glitches. But you haven’t found a way to escape the man relentlessly hunting you across every universe - Spider-Man 2099. ~2,500 words
Angst, hurt/comfort, eventual happy ending
A/N: This is for all of us who watched the Nueva York chase scene/train sequence and thought ‘when do I get to be Miles?’ This is dedicated to the Miguel O’Hara editors on TikTok - you guys are doing god’s work over there (especially with the captions). There shouldn’t be any spoilers in here beyond what was shown in trailers, but tread as carefully as you feel you need.
EDIT: Part 2
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A persistent tingle deep in your mind vibrated madly the closer Spider-Man 2099 was to you. It was your Spidey-sense warning you of danger.  For the first few months, you managed to stay several universe’s ahead of the terrifying Spider-Man variant, but after running for months with no one to help you, dodging the Spider-Person in each universe, and growing more exhausted with each portal you opened, 2099 was catching up.
He was catching up quite literally. The man was a few blocks behind you, pursuing you through the streets of a Queens in a universe you had never seen before. Buildings were built into trees. The entire city was a perfect symbiosis between nature and technology. It was beautiful, but there was no time to appreciate it. The time on your wrist ticked down. Seventy-six seconds. Seventy-five.
You shot out another web. It caught a window, and you took a sharp corner then another trying to lose the hunter.
Seventy seconds until you could safely open another portal. Well safe was a relative measure. Ideally you would allow a full day between jumps, but if you only had twelve hours, well then odds of survival rose to about fifty-fifty. Anything less than twelve hours and implosion was basically guaranteed.
Sixty-eight. You extended your legs for more momentum, rolled in the air, shot out two webs and used them to zip forward. Sixty-two. 2099 was fast, faster than you. You didn’t dare to look back to see if he was still in pursuit.
He protected the multiverse, kept it from collapsing in on itself, and you put the entire web of connection at risk just by being alive outside of your universe. You didn’t begrudge 2099 for what he thought he had to do. Maybe it was true that your presence could cause a universe to collapse, but you were careful not to stay for too long, not to interact with the Spider of that universe, not to fight any super-villains. If he could just understand that you were careful, that you didn’t want a multiversal collapse anymore than he did, maybe he would be reasonable.
Then again, maybe not. He was relentless, and from what little you had heard of Spider-Man 2099, he wasn’t one for talk and negotiation.
Fifty-five. You dived down, shot another web, swung again. You could never go back to your world’s boundless emptiness and not another living soul. That thought kept your exhausted muscles working. Fifty. The void was all that remained of your collapsed universe, a void in which you could not die but where no one else could live.
Forty-eight. Forty seven. This block was all future, half-built apartment buildings.
Thirty. You’d long ago lost your suit. All that remained was the mask that obscured your face. You must look ridiculous swinging around in stolen street-clothes: a baggy sweatshirt, leggings, dirty sneakers.
Twenty-one. Nearly there. Just a few-
A solid mass of muscle stole the breath from your lungs and flattened you into a cement wall. Claws shattered the cement beside your head into a fine gray powder. A hand closed around your throat, and you were crushed between the blue and red clad Spider-Man and the wall.
He was pure muscle. This was the closest you’d ever been to 2099, and his sheer size was terrifying. The red lines on his mask narrowed with his eyes as he studied you.
Eighteen. You pushed at his broad chest, struggling desperately to fight him off, but he was enhanced too and probably well-fed and rested - two things you were not.
“Stop fighting me,” 2099 growled into your ear, his voice a deep rumble that you felt in his chest.
“I won’t go back.” You choked out the words while you planted a knee against him and tried to kick him away. Your efforts were utterly useless. Quite literally, you could feel muscles rippling across his chest and arms as he held you against the wall while you trid to wriggle free.
In the corner of your eye, you watched the red numbers tick down. Six. Five. Was it even possible? It had to be.
2099 brought you forward then slammed you into the wall again. The impact made your head spin. The red lines of his mask doubled and tripled. He was trying to get something around your wrist.
“Hold still!”
Two.
With the last vestige of strength left in your body, you brought a hand to his face and shot a wad of webbing at his eyes. He growled and stopped his attempt to hand-cuff you - or whatever he was doing - to wipe the webbing away. For a second he was distracted. You imagined the glowing golden portal. Closed your eyes. Energy sparked in your body, coursed through your veins and arm. You shot a web at the wall behind you. It shimmered gold, dim gold, but still gold.
There was a moment where you thought it hadn't worked. Then the wall crumbled away and you felt wind whip you backward as a bright gold light filled the space. 2099 reached for you, claws extended. Four knife-like talons dug into your shoulder, ripping through the ratty sweater, digging into your skin, and tearing four long bloody stripes into your flesh as the portal drug you away..
You planted both feet on his stomach and kicked him off. A bright red web shot out from 2099’s hand to tangle in a tree. The last thing you saw was 2099 falling then catching himself before you tumbled away from him and toward a new universe.
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It was raining on this new Earth. Actually, ‘raining’ was a bit of an understatement. It was absolutely pouring, and you were soaked before you hit the ground. Hard.
You hadn't been as focused as you needed to be, and the portal had opened in the sky and dropped you ten feet to the roof of a towering building in some universe’s version of New York. You couldn’t tear the mask from your face quick enough as you gasped desperately for air. 2099 was strong, and he’d smashed you half a foot into solid cement.
Your ribs ached. So did your head for that matter. But it was the dull ache spreading across your shoulder, down your arm, and seeping through your muscles like liquid fire that really made you afraid.
The gray of your stolen sweater was soaked in crimson blood. Carefully, you pushed the stained fabric over your shoulder.
Shit. Shit!
Beneath the torn fabric, your skin glowed a sickly, dare you say radioactive red - the same red as 2099’s suit. His talons must have been poisoned, and now that poison was making it’s way through your body, causing unknown damage and immense pain. There had to be a lab on this Earth. Right? If you could only get there, you were smart enough to whip up an antidote.
But as you stood, it was obvious that you wouldn’t be going anywhere. The poison was potent and fast-acting. Insanely, you wondered if it was really poison or if you should be calling it venom. It didn’t matter, because a moment after gaining your feet, your legs failed. You careened forward and nearly smashed your head again, only just catching yourself before slowly laying down in the rainwater.
City lights sparkled in the distance and reflected in the puddle forming around your head. Purple and blues and few bright yellows. Not a bad view if this was how you died. If only the poison weren’t so painful. You wanted to scream, but you lacked the strength.
A familiar tingle shot across your spine a second before the bright gold light of a portal obscured the reflection of the city lights. No! He was so close when you jumped universe’s. He must have tracked you; no wonder he hadn't bothered to chase you through the portal.
You scrambled backwards weakly, your feet struggling for purchase on the slick roof as the broad shouldered man appeared. He was wreathed in gold light. You couldn’t jump again, couldn’t even stand, could barely drag your body through the rain as Spider-Man 2099 strode closer.
“Nowhere to run,” he said. His voice was flat, like he took no pleasure in finally having you trapped.
“I won’t go back!” You tried to sound tough, strong, but your voice cracked over the words. “There’s nothing there. I can’t. I’d rather die than- than go back to nothing. 2099, don’t send me back”
Your fingers felt the ledge of the building and empty air beyond it. Poison. Fall. The clawed Spider-Man. A slow descent into madness trapped in the empty and endless remains of your home universe. A fall seemed fastest. But you didn’t want to. You were scared. You didn’t really want to die. Your shoulder throbbed and head filled with fog. The skin was glowing such a bright red you could see it in the corner of your eye.
In the brief moment you hesitated, he was on you. 2099’s red webs wrapped around your chest, and he yanked you forward and away from the ledge. You crumpled at his feet, and he just stared down at you through that mask. His blue and red mask swam in your vision as you stared up at him. Was it the rain that was so cold? Or was it the poison? No, venom. Poison? Venom?
2099’s face got bigger as he knelt beside you.
“What is this?” He pulled at the torn sweater, his gaze falling on the bright red mottling your skin.
Miguel O’Hara had never seen his claws damage anyone like this. There was no venom in them… unless in whatever universe you had come from something about them was venomous. It was possible. His fangs were venomous, that he did know.
Miguel pulled off his mask, the adrenaline of the chase fading while he watched you struggle for life. He’d meant to stop you, take you back to base, figure out where you’d come from… not kill you. He ran his tongue over one of the fangs protruding from his mouth.
The next thing you knew, 2099 was sitting next to you and pulling you onto his lap. It might have all been a dream, you couldn’t tell. The lights were so beautiful. Your head lolled to one side, your whole body limp as a ragdoll in his muscular arms. His face filled your vision and blocked out the pretty lights.
He had a strong jawline, dark curls, sharp cheekbones, a broad nose, and were those fangs? And were his eyes glowing red? Yes, two orbs as red as the suit and your poisoned skin shone down at you. He was pretty too. This had to be a dream. The monster chasing you couldn’t be so handsome. You blinked, eyes unfocused. Your Spidey-sense was going wild, but you couldn’t bring yourself to fight. 2099 was warm, and you could go to sleep right here.
He shifted your body again so your side was pressed against his chest. “2099,” you whispered weakly, pathetically.
“I’m sorry for this,” he whispered in that low growl. Now it was tinged with what almost sounded like real regret. “It’s the best I can think of.”
He guided your head to rest in the curve of his shoulder, face turned toward his neck. One hand brushed hair away from your neck, the other wrapped around your waist. His fingers were no longer clawed, and his movements were gentle as he held you close, muscles tensing underneath your body. The expression on his face was tender. It seemed impossible that this was the same man who had made you his prey for months.
“Don’t panic now,” he whispered as he lowered his lips to your neck. “Stay still.”
You were barely aware of what was happening. His lips were warm, then four sharp pricks stung the base of your neck just above your collarbone and the deep poisoned wounds. Panic tried to rise in your throat, but you weren’t conscious enough to really process that a man currently had his fangs sunk into your throat. He drew back and spit out bright red poison, then bit into you again. Then again. And again.
Miguel was exceptionally careful with you, holding you perfectly still and being sure to sink his fangs into the same spot each time so as not to mark your skin any more than necessary.
Slowly, the world began coming back into focus. You were exhausted, but the poison was being was successfully being leeched from your system by his fangs. Brown curls were the first thing you became aware of, then the almost unnatural warmth coming from the man beneath you, then the cold pricks on rain on your back, then... then that something was biting you. Before you could wrench your head back, a large hand cradled the back of your head. You desperately tried to struggle as you realized what this vampiric Spider-Man was doing to you. The muscles in his arm flexed as he held your head still.
2099 pulled his fangs from your neck, spit bright red then let go of your head. You sat up quickly. The movement made you dizzy.
“I know you’re scared.” Miguel could see the fear in your eyes. He nodded to your still glowing shoulder. It was dimmer now and hurt less, but it was still obvious poisoned. “But this is working. Let me help you.”
You were looking him right in the eyes, the glowing red eyes, and though you didn’t trust him, you knew instinctively he was right.
“Okay,” you breathed lowly.
You laid your head on his shoulder. Miguel could feel how your whole body trembled, but whether it was from fear or cold or something else entirely he couldn’t tell. When his lips touched your skin you whimpered. That was fear.
Miguel still had one arm around you, but he took your hand in his free one, interlaced your fingers, and squeezed once. Then he sunk his fangs into your neck. It stung a bit but didn’t really hurt. Now that your were conscious, you could feel the poison being drawn toward the spot where his mouth connected to your skin. That didn’t really hurt either. It was like stretching a sore muscle - a satisfying pain that ultimately brought relief.
2099 drew back to spit out his poison. When was the last time you’d touched someone like this? A touch that was more than an accidental brush in the street - or a purposeful one so you could steal someone’s wallet. 2099 was your enemy, your hunter. He was dangerous. But he was saving your life and holding you so tenderly it made your chest ache.
“Once more,” he promised.
His fangs brushed over your skin for the last time. You pulled your hand from his and splayed your fingers across his chest. 2099 brought his now free hand to your poisoned shoulder and pushed the ripped fabric apart.
Miguel watched the last of the poison be pulled from your veins as it filled his mouth. He spit it out then turned back to study how your body was pressed against him.
“Can you stand?” He asked.
“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. Then panic hit and you jerked back, still sitting on his lap but with your face now safely away from his fangs. “You- you’re going to send me back. 2099, please don’t.”
“Why do you keep calling me that? My name is Miguel.”
Miguel. 2099 had a name. Of course he did, but hearing it made him seem so human. And his face was handsome. That was no venom or poison induced hallucination. The man was beautiful.
“And no. Not yet.”
“My universe collapsed. There’s nothing for me to go back to.”
His red eyes softened as they met yours.
“We won’t send you back to an empty universe,” he paused, and one side of his lips twitched up. “You ran because you thought I’d send you back to a void? I see I have quite the reputation.”
Miguel lifted you to your feet easily. He set you on your feet and tapped the watch-like contraption on his wrist. You leaned against his muscled chest for stability. Even without his poison, you were still wounded and tired and malnourished. A portal spiraled out in front of you both.
“You promise not to send me back there?” You looked up at Miguel. He squinted at the portal’s bright light and tugged the mask back over his face.
“Promise.”
To be continued... 
Part 2
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A/N: Part 2 will be a little time jump, and we’ll actually see Miguel and reader get into a relationship!
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fawnpires · 1 year
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TORN ON YOUR HEART. — KÖNIG.
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(in short: a concept about your husband, könig, wanting to ruin his pretty wife - and her pretty makeup.)
꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ contents: poorly google-translated german, husband!könig, slight dumbification, size kink & difference, body worship, soft dom!könig, manhandling, face-sitting, possessive sex, overstimulation, dirty talk, stomach bulge.
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"Let me ruin that makeup off your face, mein kleines reh." his accented voice muffles from underneath you.
With his large anatomy in contrast to your much small-scaled body, it was without a doubt that the flat palms of his hands secured at the flesh of your thighs could keep you right where he wanted you to be. The veil of your husband's hood had been pushed up to a right enough amount to where his hooked nose had been exposed as well as his mouth where there was a visible scar starting at the right side of his lips that curved upwards to his cheek and possibly even up into his eyes — which were still shrouded behind the covering veil of his face, only two eyeholes teared in them to reveal the hazy blue irises that peek up at you when you were currently situated at his exhibited mouth.
"Köni! Mmph, baby... it's too much." Your voice comes out but nothing but a sole tone of a quivering tone, bare thighs sheen with sweat at this point while your chest rises and falls with each heaving breath. A mind fogged of entirely him and the pleasure he brings upon you, it causes you to have lose track of time; meaning that your trembling figure has rested on König's face for quite some time, but an obscured head of ecstasy forbids any kind of coherent thought to cross your head about anything outside of this dome of rapture. "I can't do a lot more, m'sensitive..."
"Awe. Come on, liebchen, don't be like that." König said, giving a small pause in between his words to lap more at your soaking cunt which he positions himself underneath; the warm muscle of his tongue causing your eyes to willingly roll back in your head while your thighs squeezed at his masked head with a bit more pressure, a faint squeal leaving your mouth from the mere pleasure of it all. "Just hold back a little longer, then you'll get your big reward, okay? Can my pretty girl do that for me?"
Voluntarily, you nod your head all of desperation to his words — nothing but absolute commitment to make the larger man underneath so proud of you in the moment. At your non-verbal response, a faint phrase of "süßes mädchen" came muffled below you as the motions of his tongue became more rapid without breaks. One of his hands had combined with the movements of his mouth, a circling thumb pressing on the nub of your clit which only sent your mind into a more in-depth condition of personal ecstasy. Your head was now fully thrown back, vulgar sounds of moans and whines falling from an agape mouth while a heated sensation began to birth at your lower abdomen. One of your hands plants itself right next to the bedsheets nearest to where your head laid while the other had a flat palm to his hooded head, your fingers twitching as I had started to lose myself more.
"König, fuck!" You whined out in a more high-pitched tone than intended, pools of sweat sticking to the soft material of your laced bra — chest puffed out which only pronounced on how heavily you were breathing, giving König the view of a lifetime; your breasts cradled above in the feminine-designed cloth of your bra, white and lining with a lace trim around the edges. The more his tongue sloppily lapped at your drooling cunt, the more that familiar sensation grew in intensity at your lower abdomen; the one that felt all tingly, like sparks were threatening to explode right there and now.
His eyes linger onto the soft plush of your breasts before peeking through your thighs up at your face before speaking: "Ah. That's it, kleines Reh, lose yourself to me." the man mumbles into your soft skin, palming at the flesh with his larger hands as the ministrations of his tongue could only speed up without break. The sensation at your lower abdomen approaches towards an end the more his tongue slid up the puffy lips of your cunt, bumping up right against the nub of your swollen clit along with the tip of his nose. Small whispers and mumbles of praises, which were barely audible, came from König as some sort of accommodation to the reach the final stage of an orgasm — he knew you were sensitive, and he knew damn well that the useful combination of both his voice and larger touch could make you easily fall compliant to him; your brain easily so stupefied into a state of only existing bliss.
By now, the tears that brimmed at the slightest corners of your eyes were ruining over the mascara that tinted your lashes — faint black streaks rolling down the sides of your face, the whites of your eyes mostly visible as they rolled back into the inner barriers of your head. Your hips had started to grind down onto his mouth while your trembling body had begun to get more responsive to him. "M'god... I'm gonna cum..." you whined out softly into the air, voice slightly hoarse from all the noises that creeped up your throat.
"Oh, you're gonna cum?" König asks, feigning a mocked innocence with a now more huskier voice and a growl to it. "Then go ahead, nobody is going to stop you, schatz." he adds on with a slight hiss, his hands moving from being wrapped to your thighs up towards your hips, then the soft skin of your stomach, then to your bra-confined breasts. He pulls off the delicate fabric and tosses it over to the floor, leaving you now completely bare above him.
Given his confirmation you don't hesitate to oblige with them — your body trembling a little more violently as you succumb into the tingling sensation that had expanded inside of your lower abdomen, pouring out without delay as you felt your orgasm finally burst into reality. Both of your hands moved to grip the bedsheets established at his head, holding them between your fingers in a near death grip while you rode out your climax. After a duration of a few more lasting seconds, you come down from your high; body coated in a light sheen of sweat, mouth widened to catch your breaths, and your grip loosening up at the sheets. Your head tilts in a downwards angle to get a better look at your mountain of a husband, steadily moving yourself down to sit on his bare and sturdy chest to gain a better perspective of his face.
König hadn't even given you a chance to catch even the slightest view of the aftermath of himself before his hands were back to your hips against, forcing you off his frame. He moved to lean up against the headboard, still holding you hostage in his more stronger grasp at your waist until he settles you in his lap. In his head, he almost thought of you as a fragile doll while you found placement on him; so much smaller in size, so easy to move around without a struggle with his more substantial clutch. His then leans into you and presses his mouth up against yours in a swift movement leaving you no time to think, breaching your mouth with his tongue that still had the aftermath of your orgasm residing there. Fingers trailed up the inner section of your legs before tickling at your thighs, slowly moving upwards to your sensitive cunt. His index and middle finger drag a slow line up your puffy lips, causing you to moan softly into his mouth while your tongue shyly wraps to his.
Those two fingers of his decide to no longer exist on the outer region of your cunt, plunging inside instead in a stretching method. A gasp is earned into his mouth as your body falls frail against his chest, back slightly arching at the sudden pressure inside of your aching cunt. You felt his fingertips drag at your inner walls the more they pumped in and out of you; it had first started off slow and careful, but they increasingly grew a little more violently with desperation. Your makeout session with König had gotten more heated and explicit, his tongue crowding your mouth and tasting every crevice that he could possibly reach to. His free hand held you steady on his lap easily as he took note of your hips bucking at the movements of his fingers pumping with more brutality. He can't help but chuckle to himself at your needy condition as he found it quite adorable, the sound resonating within his chest.
As he withdrew his head back from you, a thick line of saliva bonded at his tongue and had been shared into your mouth in a sloppy manner. He continues to move his fingers in and out of you without stop, your body squirming as your head was angled to look at him — but never breaking off eye contact with him. König grips that one side of your waist a little tighter, fingers speeding up to an intense rate while your inner thighs were now soaking of your leaking pre-arousal.
"A-Ah... König. Please, I want you." You whined out underneath your breath, the constant stretch of his fingers opening up your cunt was a bit painful but it didn't take long for them to subside into a stinging pleasure.
"You want me, do you?" He asks in response to your whining request, but never allowing his fingers to falter from their built rhythm.
You took a few seconds to pant out before replying. "I do, please... want you to fuck me."
Your words were like a shot of adrenaline to him, a sudden primal urge listing at his necessities. His exposed, scarred lips give you a smirk — one without teeth, but showing a smug kind-of expression to them even if you couldn't fully view his full face. He slowly extracts his fingers from your cunt before moving to the only article of clothing that was on his body at the moment, his pants. Underneath where you sat on his lap, his hand found the buckle of his belt and undid it from the hoops of his tactical pants. There was a distinct noise of a zipper coming undone as well as the rustling of pants to get off. Without even looking down, you felt it; there was no separation of fabric between the two of you anymore, just bare skin. Bare and sweaty skin against each other.
His erected cock rested against your inner thighs, only fueling the amount of eagerness you had that had lead up into this situation. Hands were placed at both sides of your waist while he guided you a little up above his lap to turn around and lean up at his chest, hovering over his cock. He lowered you just the right amount so your cunt could rub up against the head of it — smearing his precum around your swollen lips and clit, more wetness starting to pool down your thighs. König elicited a deep sigh and you bit your lip, full-on whimpers escaping past the bitten flesh.
"Want it so bad, oh, please..." The words slipped out into the usual whine of your tone, nails digging into the skin of your palms at the sense of his precum soaking your cunt. "Need t'feel you inside of me..."
"I know, mein Reh, and I will." he responds through a quick breath, carrying on with moving your hips so that your cunt was rubbing up against the head of his cock. "Don't worry that head of yours, my pretty little wife will get what she wants."
Those were his last words before sheathing himself entirely into your smaller anatomy, the more extreme stretch of his cock compared to his fingers had made you squeal out at the first thrust. You squealed as you felt him fill you up, make you full; allowing your cunt to swallow him up until he was right at the base. He was warm when sheltered in your inner walls, but you had felt you were being impaled in a good way. He kept a firm grip on your hips as he fucked up into you, starting off with slow yet powerful thrusts that made a loud squelching noise — but it wasn't long for him for his carnal wants to take over, slow thrusts becoming animalistic and eager. You supported yourself laying at his chest while your head slightly sloped back to rest at his shoulder, moans leaving your mouth at his vicious onslaught on you.
His fingers imprinted tightly into the skin of your waist as grunts began to emerge from behind his veil, his hips moving quickly against your soaking cunt. He rested his forehead against your shoulder as curses in his native language were muttered under his breath, muscles already layered with a sheet of sweat while pounding into you. His cock brushed up against your cervix with each of his pushes, inner walls pulsing as you savored the moment. Skin slapping against skin and personal sounds of ecstasy had started to reverberate against the room's walls, a divided choir of unadulterated material. His movements got more aggressive, more quicker as the both of you were left with no room to speak anymore; only grunting and moaning, incoherent words along with wet skin smacking so delightfully in a connected way.
You felt his hands transport from your waist to cup your breasts, still keeping you in a solid hold if you had wanted his fucking to continue. Large palms kneaded at your flesh while his head at your shoulder was turned towards the side of your neck, pressing small kisses there while he proceeded with splitting you open on his cock.
"This pretty body is alles meins, you hear me?" he manages to get out between grunts and heavy breaths. "Nobody else, just me... it will always be me." It's not like his words were some heavy lie to use you for your body, but they were genuine and came from his heart; the beauty of your anatomy was truly a treasure to him, and god consider him the luckiest man alive to have a woman possessing such angelic features as his wife.
"Mmhm, yes, all yours." you said through a foggy head full of rapture, head cocked to the side to give König better access to your neck.
His lips formed into a smirk at your words before he grabbed at your hips again, kissing and sucking marks of love into your neck while he pounded into your cunt; feeling himself on the brink of a climax as his grunts grew heavier, more pronounced with your cunt clenching around him like a vice. Your moans grew in volume as you felt a familiar heat start to ride at your lower abdomen, back arching into a curve off his chest as you slightly leaned your upper half forward — basking in the severe intensity of this moment. A more saturated wetness starts to drool down your inner thighs and onto his lap, the skin of his thighs glowing in your abnormally dripping arousal.
König moves one of his hands to the sweep of your stomach, taking notice of the obvious bulge that swells through the soft, sweaty flesh. His fingers inch their way on top of that protruding bump which appears more prominent each time the head of his cock pushed up against the barrier of your cervix, pushing against the area. Your eyes widened at the almost overbearing feeling, more arousal dripping down your thighs.
“-Eep! K-König! Hngh, please.” you said in a whining voice as you could only writhe against his touch, eyes glazing of tears that sourced from an overwhelming arousal, a second climax forming at your lower abdomen and threatening to spill over any second now.
“Mein gott, you’re so tight.” he growls, thrusts becoming less steady but more hostile; fingers pressing down harder on himself that showcases through the skin of your stomach. “Mmm - Scheiße, doing so good, almost there.”
It was a fact you weren’t going to last once he spoke those very words to you — his husky voice, his nonstop thrusts assaulting at your cervix, and his mouth presses wet saliva-soaked kisses to your neck; you couldn’t help but spiral into your second orgasm of the night, squirming at his lap and allowing everything to pour out. It was wet, everything was wet — his lap and bare muscular chest, your legs, the sheets of the bed. Your naked back was pressed to his chest as you immediately felt weakened by the experience. Soon enough, his own release followed your own and you felt every inch of him in your guts.
Your stomach was warmed and full, both of your skin sticky and blanketed with sweat. While he rested at the headboard, your head was idle on his shoulder — taking in his natural scent while you could only gaze absentmindedly at the sharp features of his face. He adjusted his head to stare back into your eyes, his left arm slowly coming to pat and wipe at your messy face with his thumb; streaks of mascara staining that thumb in an almost clay-like material, the sight causing him to chuckle lowly.
“Oh, süßes Reh. Who knew you could be even more gorgeous with a ruined face?” he whispers in a hoarse voice, giving you a small smirk which pressed to one side of his lips - leaning in shortly to press a small, gentle kiss to your cheek.
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